The courage of meeting death in an honorable cause is more commendable than any trickery to evade it.
A conceited willow once challenged its mighty neighbor, the oak, to a trial of strength, to be determined by the next storm. Eolus, god of the winds, was asked to exert his most powerful efforts. A violent hurricane arose. The pliant willow bent and shrank under the blast, evading its full force, while the noble oak, disdaining to yield, stood firm and was torn up by the roots. The willow then began to exult and claim victory. The fallen oak interrupted, “Call this a trial of strength? Poor wretch! Not to your strength, but your weakness; not to your courage, but your cowardice, do you owe your present safety. I am an oak, though fallen; you are still a willow, though unhurt. But who, except such a mean wretch as yourself, would prefer an ignominious life preserved by craft or cowardice to the glory of meeting death in a brave contention?”
