of subsistence, it is a choice which even the most civilized would not feel disposed to deny to him.
It will not be supposed for a moment that the death of a fallen warrior has something in it more beautiful to my eyes than the death of the fearless Pliny, or, to instance devotion somewhat too little honoured, the death of Robert and Pilatre du Rozier. But such instances are rare; and it may be fairly questioned whether they would ever, even, occur without the inspiring memory of those former examples. Neither have I selected the most favourable position in the case of war, nor regarded the finer manifestations of its high-souled enthusiasm. Let me recall the Spartans at Thermopylæ, and ask what influence such an illustrious example of heroism in its sons is likely to exercise on the general character of a nation. I do not deny that such a spirit of daring devotedness and self-sacrifice can find room for manifestation in any form or position in life, nor that it actually does thus exhibit itself; but can we blame him, if, as a sentient being, man is most fondly captivated with its most vivid and visible embodiment, or refuse to believe that such a conspicuous expression of courageous virtue exercises the most living and lasting influence on the national spirit and character? And as to the bracing discipline of ordinary life I would observe that, with all that I have heard of evils more terrible than death, I never yet knew any, save the enthusiast, who, while in the full fruition of all the joys of existence, could really afford to despise it. Least of all would we look for such a spirit in antiquity, where as yet the thing itself was superior to the name, and the reality of the present more highly prized than the shadowy uncertainty of the future. My view of the warrior, then, does not apply to such as were trained up and devoted to warlike pursuits in Plato's Republic,[1] but to men who take life and death,
- ↑ These were to be trained to regard death not as something terrible and
