Benedict Arnold battled nobly for the American colonies, but he blackened his fair name beyond the power of rehabilitation when he plotted to secure and betray West Point. It is pathetic to read of his last hours in London when he donned his old American uniform, put on the insignia that Washington gave him after his victory at Saratoga, and said: “Let me die in this old uniform in which I fought my battles. May God forgive me for ever putting on any other.”
This reminds us of Esau’s remorse when he lost his chieftainship, and the despair of Judas after selling his Master. Infidelity to trust is an awful sin. Unfaithfulness is inexcusable and often brings with it direst penalty. It is a gradually increasing sin. There is first a lack of love to God. Then, like Peter on the sea and Elijah under the juniper tree, disbelief creeps into the heart, earnestness is lost, unwatchfulness results, joy vanishes and unholy living follows. In the end, unless there is a returning to God like the prodigal son to his father, death becomes sad and eternity awful.
DEAD ON THE FIELD OF HONOR.
Faithfulness is a beautiful and noble characteristic, which never fails to bring respect and honor. Fame comes only to a few, but faithfulness should actuate the life of every boy. Latour D’Auberque was only a private soldier who defended alone a fort in a mountain pass against a regiment of Austrian soldiers. He knew it was important that the Austrian army should not pass through this mountain defile, and he hastened to inform the garrison of their approach. When he arrived he found the soldiers had deserted, leaving their guns.
D’Auberque loaded rapidly and fired upon the advancing regiment, causing fearful havoc. For one hour he kept the Austrians at bay. Finally he raised a flag and sounded a bugle, thus announcing the fort would surrender if the garrison should be permitted to carry out their arms and depart in safety. The proposition was accepted, and D’Auberque took his arms full of guns and marched out alone. “Where are the others?” cried the Austrians. “There are no others,” replied the brave grenadier. “I defended the fort alone.” The Austrians threw their caps in the air and shouted “Hurrah!” They honored the man who could and would stand alone, though many of their comrades had fallen under his fire. When Napoleon heard of the brave action, he offered to make him an officer, but D’Auberque refused to accept. One day he was killed in battle. Whenever after the roll was called, a grenadier, by the command of Napoleon, stepped forward and answered, “Dead on the field of honor.”
THE PROMISE TO THE “FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.”
When John was banished by the cruel Domitian to the isle of Patmos, he had a vision in which he was commanded to write to the pastor of the church in Smyrna concerning many things. He closed his letter with these words: “Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life.” What a promise! No other person ever offered such a reward with such a condition. Faithfulness must characterize the aspirant, not for a few days, months or years, but “unto death.” Then there are no terrors for the Christian. As the bee loses its power to hurt when its sting has been removed, so death had no sting for the child of God. It lost its power to harm when Christ died for us.
THE ARAB MARTYR.
It was about three hundred and fifty years ago that a martyrdom took place, long considered legendary, but which was verified in 1853. An Arab baby was taken by Spanish soldiers and brought to Oran to be sold as a slave. The good Vicar-general, Juan Caro, bought him and named him Geronimo. When he was eight years of age, some Arab slaves escaped from Oran, and, thinking to do the boy a kindness, took him with them. For years he lived with his people as a Mahometan, but the holy faith which through Juan Caro had been planted in the boy’s heart had taken firm root and could not be destroyed. For twenty-five years he remained with them and then ran away and returned to the Vicar-general. “Because I wished to live henceforth in the faith of the Divine Saviour,” he said, “I returned to you.” Juan Caro was delighted. He received the young Arab as a lost child.
Soon after he entered the Spanish Guard as a soldier and after performing many brave acts received a high military position. He married and for ten years nothing but happiness shone into his life. He won the respect and confidence of all. He was Juan Caro’s right hand man, and his wife was a daughter to his adopted father. One bright May day in 1569 news came to Oran that a small Arab encampment was a short distance away. The rumor did not seem important. A handful of Spaniards could easily manage the Arabs, at least so thought Geronimo. Taking nine soldiers he manned a little boat and rowed out of the safe harbor and along the blue sea past the coral fishery of Mers-el-Kebir. Suddenly two Moorish brigantines which had been lying in wait chased and ran them down. The nine soldiers escaped but Geronimo, who was a marked man, was seized and carried to Euldij Ali, the Calabrian renegade. A great cry spread among the Arabs through Algeria that the apostate was captured. The Moors who knew his history made a solemn vow that they would restore him to his old religion. For this they sent Marabouts to convert him with arguments and fair promises, but they returned discomfited to Euldij Ali. Another method was now tried. Geronimo was loaded with chains, treated with the utmost cruelty and when faint from torture and scarcely able to speak, the Marabouts stood around him offering him liberty, power, honor and riches. No offer, however, made him deny his faith, no longing for freedom made him forswear for one single moment his religion. Once, after some most horrible threats, he raised his poor suffering head, and with a voice so weak it could scarcely be heard, he said, “They think they will make me a Mahometan, but that they shall never do, even if they kill me.”