"No, sir; you were in danger. At any moment a bullet might have ended your life."
"I did not realize the situation, then."
"Well, I must confess that you had the advantage of me, then," said he.
"What? You, Captain? You felt that you were in danger?"
"Yes, Jones; every moment I knew our danger."
"But you did not fear."
"May I ask if you do not regard fear as the feeling caused by a knowledge of danger?"
"I know, Captain,--I don't know how I know it,--but I know that a man may fear and yet do his duty; but there are other men, and I am afraid that I am one of them, who fear and who fail in duty."
"I congratulate you, sir; I wish all our men would fear to fail in duty," said he; "we should have an invincible army in such case. An army consisting, without exception, of such men, could not be broken. It is those who flee, those who fail in duty, that cause disorganization. The touch of the elbow is good for the weak, I think, sir; but for the man who will do his duty such dependence should not be taught. Good men, instructed to depend on comrades will be demoralized when comrades forsake them. Our method of battle ought to be changed. Our ranks should be more open. Many reasons might be urged for that change, but the one we are now considering is enough. The close line makes good men depend on weak men; when the weak fail, the strong feel a loss which is not really a loss but rather an advantage, if they could but see it so. Every man in the army ought to be taught to do his whole duty regardless of what others do. Those who cannot be so taught ought not to fight, sir; there are other duties more suited to them."
"And I fear that my case is just such a one," I said.