So the Commonwealth's man, Sir John Eliot, went alike
bravely to his death on the same spot, saying: "Ten thousand
deaths rather than defile my conscience, the chastity and purity
of which I value beyond all this world." Eliot's greatest
tribulation was on account of his wife, whom he had to leave
behind. When he saw her looking down upon him from the Tower
window, he stood up in the cart, waved his hat, and cried: "To
heaven, my love!--to heaven!--and leave you in the storm!" As
he went on his way, one in the crowd called out, "That is the most
glorious seat you ever sat on;" to which he replied: "It is so,
indeed!" and rejoiced exceedingly. (5)
Although success is the guerdon for which all men toil, they have
nevertheless often to labour on perseveringly, without any glimmer
of success in sight. They have to live, meanwhile, upon their
courage--sowing their seed, it may be, in the dark, in the hope
that it will yet take root and spring up in achieved result. The
best of causes have had to fight their way to triumph through a
long succession of failures, and many of the assailants have died
in the breach before the fortress has been won. The heroism they
have displayed is to be measured, not so much by their immediate
success, as by the opposition they have encountered, and the
courage with which they have maintained the struggle.
The patriot who fights an always-losing battle--the martyr who
goes to death amidst the triumphant shouts of his enemies--the
discoverer, like Columbus, whose heart remains undaunted through
the bitter years of his "long wandering woe"--are examples of the
moral sublime which excite a profounder interest in the hearts of
men than even the most complete and conspicuous success.
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