The National tribune., 1881-12-17
ABOUT BACKBONE.


the buildings were quietly sleeping, unconscious
of the dangers hedging them in upon every side.
Aroused from their slumbers, some effected their
escape, while yet others remained within, a prey
to the devouring clement, terrifying the hearts of
the quickly gathering multitude by their agon-
iZing cries for succOr.
To all human seeming there could be no res
cue. The wall of fire intervened, and beyond it
lay death in it's most cruel guise.
Not far away party of gamblers sat in their
room, engaged in following their usual ayOcation.
Curiosity led them to the scene Of the confagra-
ton.
Among their number there was a young man
one of those quiet even-tempered, imperturbable
persons, not given to boasting, and of whom we,
as a general thing, take little account. He was
not by any means reckless mamie was not an
enthusiast. On the contrary, he belonged rather
to the cold -blooded, calculating class, as are
divided up in the judgment of their fellows. He
was a gambler by profession, outlawed by respect
able society, and yet doubtless did not lightly
hold his life. 1t was as dear to him as was their
own to any one of the thousands who thronged
the streets upon that fatal occasion, grOaning in
agony because they could render no assistance.
"Those people must be saved!" l can almost
fancy him saying in his Slow measured accents
as he took in the situation at one sweeping glance.
Has no one made the effort?"
at is impossible" cry the multitude He does
not think so. With him nothing is impossible
until complete failure has set it's seal upon the
attempt.
His arrangements are quickly made but with
as little show of excitement as though he were
sitting at a friends table and about to lead the
play in game at cards.
He enters the building The lookers-on stand
speechless, breathless, horror, stricken.
Presently he emerges with a something wrap
ped up in blankets in his arms. 1t is little
child
A great shout goes up from the vast throng
He is no longer a gambler; he is hero. The
cheering does not affect him. | doubt if it even
sets his heart throbbing faster by single pulsa-
ton. He places his burden tenderly upon the
ground, alive saved, and with singed hair and
eyebrows blackened face, blistered hands, and
smoking garments, that plainly tell of the fear
full gulf he has just left turns to retrace his steps
They seek to dissuade him, endeavor to hold him
back; but others are within the burning pile
awaiting their savior. He will not listen. He
cannot be restrained. Three times he enters the
Jaws of death; three times he emerges from the
gates of the flaming hell
But flesh and blood cannot withstand another
ordeal like the last. His will is adamant; his
heart is strong and tender and true to the noblest
impulse Of manhood; yet he is of mortal mold
He makes one feeble effort to return and falls,
bruised and blackened mass, beside the forms of
those for whom he has cheerfully yielded up his
life
He died-died hero-such an one as woman
weep over and men have not words to eulogize
His story has been well-nigh forgotten; his name
even is no longer remembered but [ point to
him and his sublime sacrifice of self for an inter
probation of the meaning of my text. He pos
sessed courage-a strong but tender heart-a no
BILE, powerful will He had the true Saxon grit;
he had backbone"
Backbone, then, as metaphor means courage,
determination, endurance, grit. But it has also a
broader, more elevated meaning; the attribute of
manhood which enables its possessor to have first
conception of his duty of what is right and
then actively or passively work out the problem
as best he may; but ever keeping the star of duty
for his guide
Could we but gather up tithe even of the
incidents of the past where this great moral
quality has been exhibited we would be inclined
to wonder that the supply had not become ex-
hausted. But the world is full of it now, as it
has been from the beginning.
1t is true that there are those who are weak,
who have no more backbone than an oyster out
of it's she'll and that there are others whose back
bones are worn upon the outside like the lob
ster's. There are those, too, whose backbones
like dromedary s. seem to centre all in one spot
who may be courageous upon occasion, under
the impulse Of some great danger threatening
them touching some particular matter, but
who nevertheless do not possess those qualities
of endurance and nobility of soul which make
men really brave. There is distinction, too to
he drawn as regards the character of backbone.
Mere animal courage indicates it, but not the
highest and most perfect type.
A man may charge battery with the utmost
sang Jtroid, and yet upon the lonely pcket-post,
where he can imagine vengeful eyes ever seeking
him out through the darkness, become veritable
coward.
Or he may rush into the midst of the fight
without one thought of danger, and yet succumb
beneath the dropping fire from the enemys guns.
Old soldiers have experienced this feeling over
and over again, and so have others, although the