TEXT D Visitors to St. Paul Cathedral are sometimes astonished as they walk round the space under the arch to come up a statue which would appear to be that of a retired armed man meditating upon a wasted life. They are still more astonished when they see under it an inscription indicating that it represents the English writer, Samuel Johnson. The statue is by Bacon, but it is not one of his best works. The figure is, as often in eighteenth-century sculpture, clothed only in a loose robe that leaves arms, legs and one shoulder hare. But the strangeness for us is not one of costume only. If we know anything of Johnson, we know that he was constantly ill all through his life; and whether we know anything of him or not we are apt to think of a literary man as a delicate, weakly, nervous sort of person. Nothing can be further from that than the muscular statue. And in this matter the statue is perfectly right. And the fact which it reports is far from being unimportant. The body and the mind are closely interwoven in all of us, and certainly in Johnson’s case the influence of the body was extremely oblivious. His melancholy, his constantly repeated conviction of the general un-happiness of human life, was certainly the result of his constitutional infirmities. On the other hand, his courage, and his entire indifference to pain, was partly due to his great bodily strength. Perhaps the vein of rudeness, almost of fierceness, which sometimes showed itself in his conversation, was the natural tem-per of an invalid and suffering giant. That at any rate is what he was. He was the victim from childhood of a disease that resembled St. Vitus’s dance. He never knew the natural joy of a free and vigorous use of his limbs; when he walked it was like the struggling walk of one in irons. All accounts agree that his strange gestures and contortions were painful for his friends to witness and attracted crows of starters in the streets. But Reynolds says that he could sit still for his portrait to be taken, and that when his mind was engaged by a conversation the convulsions ceased. In any case, it is certain that neither this perpetual misery, nor his constant fear of losing his reason, nor his many grave attacks of illness, ever induced him to surrender the privileges that belonged to his physical strength. He justly thought no character so disagreeable as that of a chronic invalid, and was determined not to be one himself. He had known what it was to live on four pence a day and scorned the life of sofa cushions and tea into which well-attended old gentle-men so easily slip. According to the passage, which is NOT true to Johnson
A. He once did not have enough money to live on.
B. He lived singly in the past.
C. He was a little cynical.
D. He received little care from his friends.
TEXT C Moral responsibility is all very well, but what about military orders Is it not the soldier’s duty to give instant obedience to orders given by his military superiors And apart from duty, will not the soldier suffer severe punishment, even death, if he refuses to do what he is ordered to If, then, a soldier is told by his superior to burn this house or to shoot that prisoner, how can he be held criminally accountable on the ground that the burning or shooting was a violation of the laws of war These are some of the questions that are raised by the concept commonly called "superior orders", and its use as a defense in war crimes trials. It is an issue that must be as old as the laws of war themselves, and it emerged in legal guise over three centuries ago when, after the Stuart restoration in 1660, the commander of the guards at the trial and execution of Charles I was put on trial for treason and murder. The officer defended himself on the ground "that all I did was as a soldier, by the command of my superior officer whom I must obey or die," but the court gave him short shrift, saying that "When the command is traitorous, then the obedience to that command is also traitorous." Though not precisely articulated, the rule that is necessarily implied by this decision is that it is the soldier’s duty to obey lawful orders, but that he may disobey--and indeed must, under some circum-stances-unlawful orders. Such has been the law of the United States since the birth of the nation. In 1804, Chief Justice John Marshall declared that superior orders would justify a subordinate’s conduct only "if not to perform a prohibited act," and there are many other early decisions to the same effect. A strikingly illustrative case occurred in the wake of that conflict which most Englishmen have never heard (although their troops burned the White House) and which we call the War of 1812. Our country was baldly split by that war too and, at a time when the United States Navy was not especially popular in New England, the ship-in-the-line Independence was lying in Boston Harbor. A passer-by directed abusive language at a marine standing guard on the ship, and the marine, Bevans by name, ran his bayonet through the man. Charged with murder, Bevans produced evidence that the marines on the Independence had been ordered to bayonet anyone showing them disrespect. The case was tried before Justice Joseph Story, next to Marshall, the leading judicial figure of those years, who charged that any such order as Bevans had invoked "would be illegal and void," and, if given and put into practice, both the superior and the subordinate would be guilty of murder. In consequence, Bevans was convicted. The order allegedly given to Bevans was pretty drastic, and Boston Harbor was not a battlefield; perhaps it was not too much to expect the marine to realize that literal compliance might lead to bad trouble. But it is only too easy to conceive of circumstances where the matter might not be at all clear. Does the subordinate obey at peril that the order may later be ruled illegal, or is protected unless he has a good reason to doubt its validity According to the fourth paragraph, Bevans was found guilty because he ______ .
A. obeyed illegal orders
B. was accused of murder
C. disobeyed the superior orders
D. offended against the law of war