The martyr goes to the stake, the patriot to the scaffold, not
with a view to any future reward, to themselves, but because it is a
glory to fling away their lives for truth and freedom. And so through
all phases of existence, to the smallest details of common life, the
beautiful character is the unselfish character. Those whom we most love
and admire are those to whom the thought of self seems never to occur;
who do simply and with no ulterior aim--with no thought whether it will
be pleasant to themselves or unpleasant--that which is good and right
and generous.
Is this still selfishness, only more enlightened? I do not think so. The
essence of true nobility, is neglect of self. Let the thought of self
pass in, and the beauty of a great action is gone, like the bloom from a
soiled flower. Surely it is a paradox to speak of the self-interest of a
martyr who dies for a cause, the triumph of which he will never enjoy;
and the greatest of that great company in all ages would have done what
they did, had their personal prospects closed with the grave. Nay, there
have been those so zealous for some glorious principle as to wish
themselves blotted out of the book of Heaven if the cause of Heaven
could succeed.
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