In the Middle Ages the lesser nobles used to follow their chiefs on horseback; they were called Knights (the word originally meant servants, in German Knechte) and the system of knightly rules and customs was called chivalry (French chevalerie). The order of knighthood was only bestowed after many years of training and discipline. In later times the movement lost its early meaning and usefulness; but for many centuries the traditions and ideals of knighthood did much to keep alive the Christian standard of a pure and courageous manhood.
On one of the last days of His earthly life Jesus Christ did a thing that astounded the men who saw it. At the close of a supper with the inner circle of His followers, He took water and a towel and went round the little company washing each man's feet in turn. And then He explained to them His acted parable. He told them that they, like Himself, were put in the world to serve: "not to be ministered unto but to minister." They learnt their lesson; and for the rest of their lives every man, save one, spent himself ungrudgingly in serving others.
The word knight, as we saw, means "servant"; and it is not for nothing that the Army and Navy are called "The Services." Taught by stern discipline, the soldier and the sailor know that self counts nothing, and others everything. That is perhaps the biggest truth in life. Many people had forgotten it before the War; but we have learnt it now. That great host who have laid down their lives for their friends, and those countless others who have learnt to hold the nation dearer than safety and comfort, than pleasure and money--all these have shown it to be startlingly true that a man's life consisteth not in the abundance of things that he possesseth; and that it is verily "more blessed to give than to receive." Chivalry is re-born; Honour has come to its own again. As that young poet sang so truly and beautifully, shortly before he gave his own life:[1]
[1] Rupert Brooke died in the Aegean, April, 1915, aged 28. From 1914 and Other Poems.
"Blow out, you bugles, over the rich Dead!
There's none of these so lonely and poor of old,
But, dying, has made us rarer gifts than gold.
These laid the world away; poured out the red
Sweet wine of youth; gave up the years to be
Of work and joy, and that unhoped serene,
That men call age; and those who would have been,
Their sons, they gave, their immortality.
"Blow, bugles, blow! They brought us, for our dearth,
Holiness, lacked so long, and Love, and Pain.
Honour has come back, as a king, to earth,
And paid his subjects with a royal wage;
And Nobleness walks in our ways again;
And we have come into our heritage."
True knights are called to chivalrous service, not in war-time only, or just for a temporary Cause, but always, and everywhere, on behalf of all. If Christians generally lived up to this Christian ideal, and cared little for getting, but everything for giving, the world would rapidly become a very different place. Selfishness is the cause of nearly all our ills; and chivalry is just the opposite of selfishness. There is no chivalry in the man who is wrapped up in his own affairs, and who turns a cold eye on all except his own particular friends. It is chivalry that makes you interested in that other fellow who happens to be less fortunately situated than yourself, and sets you wondering how you would like it if you were in his shoes, until at last you feel you must somehow find some way of being a friend to him and giving him a helping hand. And it is chivalry that is always on the watch to protect the defenceless. In every group of people, in all sections of society, there are always some individuals who seem curiously unable to fend for themselves and invariably get pushed to the wall. Do you do your share in the general pushing? Or do you, with Christian chivalry, try and stand up for those who cannot or do not stand up for themselves?
The chivalrous man, moreover, is never unfair nor unmerciful. War-time makes a big demand on the qualities of fairness and mercy. Thank God our Nation has, on the whole, and despite terrible provocation, shown itself to be a chivalrous foe to the enemy. If you are going to be chivalrous, there is no room for vengeance or retaliation. Soldiers and sailors know this by instinct, and act accordingly. I always notice that it is newspaper people, and people who sit snug in their arm-chairs at home, who talk so loud about reprisals and retaliation. In the trenches it's quite different. When Thomas Atkins takes a prisoner he generally offers him a cigarette. As an Officer said the other day, "Tommy's only idea, when he catches these fellows, is to feed them." At least that is his usual practice, whatever his theories are about what he will do to the "blanked Hun" when he catches him. A recent number of Punch*[2] had a lovely description of Thomas Atkins' vengeance. A Cavalry outpost in Egypt, sweltering in the heat, devoured by mosquitoes, in a temper reflecting the choice surroundings, decides that the only thing to do with wandering parties of the treacherous Arabs is to shoot them at sight. Sudden report from the sentry: "Corporal, I can see 'alf-a-dozen of them blighters coming along about a mile away. Shall I give 'em one?" "No, you idiot," says the Corporal, "Let's 'ave a look at 'em first." There arrives on the scene a middle-aged Arab, dressed in indescribable rags, and in the last stage of exhaustion, and decidedly populous as to his person; various members of his family are hovering about a short distance away. He falls flat on his face at the sight of the Corporal, crying, "Bimbashi, bimbashi, mongeries, mongeries." "Yes, I'll bash yer all right," says the Corporal, "Grey-'eaded old reprobate, you ought to know better." "Lor'," comments one of the Troopers, "'e do look thin, pore beggar, *Mongeries--that means food, don't it? 'E looks as if 'e hadn't eaten nothing for weeks. 'Ere, 'ave a biscuit, old Sport." "Try 'im with some bully," suggests another Trooper; "they say they won't eat that, though." "Won't 'e!" says the first, "I never seen the stuff go so quick. 'Ere, old fellow, don't eat the tin." "Don't give him any more," says the Corporal, "or 'e'll kill 'isself. Let's see if his family can do the disappearing trick as quick as he can. Poor devils they've been through something. 'Ere, you family, mongeries." The family are brought up and fed on the day's rations. "Take 'em back to camp now," orders the Corporal, "and 'and 'em over. Come on, old boy; you're all right. Lor', ain't they pretty near done. Lucky they found us when they did." Such is the way of Thomas ... and it is the way of chivalry; and that is the way of Christ. "If thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirsts, give him drink."
Another mark of the chivalrous man is the stainless honour of all his relations with women. In the days of our fathers and grandfathers it was thought very important that the relations between men and women should always be what was called "proper," with the result that they often became self-conscious, stilted, affected, and even stupid. In our day there is a strong reaction against those Victorian ideas and manners. This reaction is very natural, and much of it is sane and sound. The relation between the sexes to-day is often that of a healthy, happy, easy comradeship, born of sport or some other rational joint interest, a thing of the open air, metaphorically as well as literally. And there are many men who have cause to bless a blameless friendship with a good woman. But if some profit by this new liberty, others, it must be confessed, have shown themselves less worthy of it. It is all too easy for the man of to-day to fall below the standard which is planted in the conscience and instinct of every true gentleman. There is much--too much--in modern life to make men think that women are in the world just to minister to their amusement and gratification, and to make women acquiesce in that idea. There are those who deliberately give effect to that degraded conception. There are others who, without descending to vice, have half-unconsciously allowed their thought of the man and woman relationship to be lowered and coarsened. Influenced by the presentment of life which they see at most theatres and cinemas, and in a certain type of novel, they learn to think of love as something easy, exciting, pleasurable, irresponsible, unfettered by ordinary restraints, something to be gazed at, feasted on, dissected, toyed with; and so perhaps they come to play with love in their own experience, and thus both work grievous hurt on other lives, and, for themselves, fritter away in little bits, cheaply and unthinkingly, that which is the very highest thing in all the capacity and heritage of their manhood. Far otherwise is it with the man who is mindful of the dictates of true chivalry. His whole thought of womanhood is on a different level, breathes another atmosphere. For him, Love is a high and holy thing, to be revered, not played with. For him, all that womanhood is and may be, the tender grace and charm, the beauty of form and face, the appeal of her dependence, the subtle surprises of her companionship, the ministries of her sympathy, the wonder of her friendship, the selfless glory of her love--all this he sees to be God's sheer gift for the blessing of humanity. Something of this vision, this instinct, will be at the back of his mind in all his contact with the women he knows and sees. And, therefore, his one guiding principle as he meets and mixes with them will be--reverence. A deep reverence for womanhood is the hall-mark of true chivalry.
[2] May 10, 1916.
Does this seem an impossibly high standard for a man who has to live his life in modern society? Perhaps it would be out of reach of us ordinary men, if it were not for a new and mighty spiritual stimulus which, if we will, we may make our own. The secret of chivalry, like the secret of courage, may be learned in the companionship of the one perfect chivalrous Gentleman that the world has seen--Jesus of Nazareth. He, born of a human mother, acquainted with family love. Friend of gentle women, for ever blessed and sanctified the friendship and love of men and women. From the Manger to the Cross He lived out and taught the first law of all chivalry, the great guiding principle of all human relationships, the highest glory both of manhood and womanhood, that it is ever more blessed to give than to receive. As Charles Kingsley, himself a most chivalrous gentleman, sung of his Master in lines noble and true: