refused to be comforted, one might take some pride in giving
them compulsory comfort! and, as it were, "_occupying_ a country" with
one's gifts, instead of one's armies? If one could only consider it as
much a victory to get a barren field sown, as to get an eared field
stripped; and contend who should build villages, instead of who should
"carry" them! Are not all forms of heroism conceivable in doing these
serviceable deeds? You doubt who is strongest? It might be ascertained
by push of spade, as well as push of sword. Who is wisest? There are
witty things to be thought of in planning other business than
campaigns. Who is bravest? There are always the elements to fight
with, stronger than men; and nearly as merciless.

The only absolutely and unapproachably heroic element in the soldier's
work seems to be--that he is paid little for it--and regularly: while
you traffickers, and exchangers, and others occupied in presumably
benevolent business, like to be paid much for it--and by chance. I
never can make out how it is that a _knight_-errant does not expect to
be paid for his trouble, but a _pedlar_-errant always does;--that
people are willing to take hard knocks for nothing, but never to sell
ribands cheap; that they are ready to go on fervent crusades, to
recover the tomb of a buried God, but never on any travels to fulfil
the orders of a living one;--that they will go anywhere barefoot to
preach their faith, but must be well bribed to practise it, and are
perfectly ready to give the Gospel gratis, but never the loaves and
fishes.

If you chose to take the matter up on any such soldierly principle; to
do your commerce, and your feeding of nations, for fixed salaries; and
to be as particular about giving people the best food, and the best
cloth, as soldiers are about giving them the best gunpowder, I could
carve something for you on your exchange worth looking at. But I can
only at present suggest decorating its frieze with pendant purses; and
making its pillars broad at the base, for the sticking of bills. And
in the innermost chambers of it there might be a statue of Britannia
of the Market, who may have, perhaps advisably, a partridge for her
crest, typical at once of her courage in fighting for noble ideas, and
of her interest in game; and round its neck, the inscription in golden
letters, "Perdix fovit quae non peperit."[217] Then, for her spear, she
might have a weaver's beam; and on her shield, instead of St.