Courage, the Spirit of Daring and Bearing（2）

     
     
     
      Courage， the Spirit of Daring and Bearing（2）
     
      It passes current among us as a piece of authentic history, that as [=O]ta Dokan, the great builder of the castle of Tokyo, was pierced through with a spear, his assassin, knowing the poetical predilection of his victim, accompanied his thrust with this couplet—
     
      “Ah! how in moments like these
     
      Our heart doth grudge the light of life;”
     
      whereupon the expiring hero, not one whit daunted by the mortal wound in his side, added the lines—
     
      “Had not in hours of peace,
     
      It learned to lightly look on life.”
     
      There is even a sportive element in a courageous nature. Things which are serious to ordinary people, may be but pcomy to the valiant. Hence in old warfare it was not at all rare for the parties to a conflict to exchange repartee or to begin a rhetorical contest. Combat was not solely a matter of brute force; it was, as well, an intellectual engagement.
     
      Of such character was the battle fought on the banks of the Koromo River, comte in the eleventh century. The eastern army routed, its leader, Sadato, took to flight. When the pursuing general pressed him hard and called aloud—“It is a disgrace for a warrior to show his back to the enemy,” Sadato reined his horse; upon this the conquering chief shouted an impromptu verse—
     
      “Torn into shreds is the warp of the cloth” (koromo).
     
      Scarcely had the words escaped his lips when the defeated warrior, undismayed, completed the couplet—
     
      “Since age has worn its threads by use.”
     
      Yoshiie, whose bow had all the while been bent, suddenly unstrung it and turned away, leaving his prospective victim to do as he pleased. When asked the reason of his strange behavior, he replied that he could not bear to put to shame one who had kept his presence of mind while hotly pursued by his enemy.
     
      The sorrow which overtook Antony and Octavius at the death of Brutus, has been the general experience of brave men. Kenshin, who fought for fourteen years with Shingen, when he heard of the comtter’s death, wept aloud at the loss of “the best of enemies.” It was this same Kenshin who had set a noble example for all time, in his treatment of Shingen, whose provinces comy in a mountainous region quite away from the sea, and who had consequently depended upon the H?觝j?觝 provinces of the Tokaido for salt. The H?觝j?觝 prince wishing to weaken him, although not openly at war with him, had cut off from Shingen all traffic in this important article. Kenshin, hearing of his enemy’s dilemma and able to obtain his salt from the coast of his own dominions, wrote Shingen that in his opinion the H?觝j?觝 lord had committed a very mean act, and that although he (Kenshin) was at war with him (Shingen) he had ordered his subjects to furnish him with plenty of salt—adding, “I do not fight with salt, but with the sword,” affording more than a parallel to the words of C***llus, “We Romans do not fight with gold, but with iron.” Nietzsche spoke for the samurai heart when he wrote, “You are to be proud of your enemy; then, the success of your enemy is your success also.” Indeed valor and honor alike required that we should own as enemies in war only such as prove worthy of being friends in peace. When valor attains this height, it becomes akin to Benevolence.