is another theory of the
personal motive in these fine sayings and doings, which I believe to be
true and wholesome. People usually do things, and suffer martyrdoms,
because they have an inclination that way. The best artist is not the
man who fixes his eye on posterity, but the one who loves the practice
of his art. And instead of having a taste for being successful merchants
and retiring at thirty, some people have a taste for high and what we
call heroic forms of excitement. If the Admirals courted war like a
mistress; if, as the drum beat to quarters, the sailors came gaily out
of the forecastle,--it is because a fight is a period of multiplied and
intense experiences, and, by Nelson's computation, worth "thousands" to
any one who has a heart under his jacket. If the marines of the _Wager_
gave three cheers and cried "God bless the king," it was because they
liked to do things nobly for their own satisfaction. They were giving
their lives, there was no help for that; and they made it a point of
self-respect to give them handsomely. And there were never four happier
marines in God's world than these four at that moment. If it was worth
thousands to be at the Baltic, I wish a Benthamite arithmetician would
calculate how much it was worth to be one of these four marines; or how
much their story is worth to each of us who read it. And mark you,
undemonstrative men would have spoiled the situation. The finest action
is the better for a piece of purple. If the soldiers of the _Birkenhead_
had not gone down in line, or these marines of the _Wager_ had walked
away simply into the island, like plenty of other brave fellows in the
like circumstances, my Benthamite arithmetician would assign a far lower
value to the two stories. We have to desire a grand air in our heroes;
and such a knowledge of the human stage as shall make them put the dots
on their own i's, and leave us in no suspense as to when they mean to be
heroic. And hence, we should congratulate ourselves upon the fact that
our Admirals were not only great-hearted but big-spoken.

The heroes themselves say, as often as not, that fame is their object;
but I do not think that is much to the purpose. People generally say
what they have been taught to say; that was the catchword they were
given in youth to express the aims of their way of life; and men who are
gaining great battles are not likely to take much trouble in reviewing
their sentiments and the words in which t