imagine, since they are not able to give their wearers either more strength or courage than they had before, nor to preserve them from the attacks of those whose appearance is more homely. But since you are so little acquainted with the business of a soldier, I must show you a little more clearly in what it consists. Instead, therefore, of all this pageantry, which seems so strongly to have acted upon your mind, I must inform you that there is no human being exposed to suffer a greater degree of hardship; he is often obliged to march whole days in the most violent heat, or cold, or rain, and frequently without
victuals to eat, or clothes to cover him; and when he stops at night, the most that he can expect is a miserable canvas tent to shelter him, which is penetrated in every part by the wet, and a little straw to keep his body from the damp unwholesome earth. Frequently he cannot meet with even this, and is obliged to lie uncovered upon the ground, by which means he contracts a thousand diseases, which are more fatal than the cannon and weapons of the enemy. Every hour he is exposed to engage in combats at the hazard of losing his limbs, of being crippled or mortally wounded. If he gain the victory, he generally has only to begin again and fight anew, till the war is over; if he be beaten, he may probably lose his life upon the spot, or be taken prisoner by the enemy, in which case he may languish several months in a dreary prison, in want of all the
necessaries of life."
"Alas!" said Harry, "what a dreadful picture do you draw of the fate of those brave men who suffer so much to defend their country. Surely those who employ them should take care of them when they are sick, or wounded, or incapable of providing for themselves."
"So indeed," answered Mr Barlow, "they ought to do; but rash and foolish men engage in wars without either justice or reason, and when they are over they think no more of the unhappy people who have served them at so much loss to themselves."
Harry.—Why, sir, I have often thought, that, as all wars consists in shedding blood and doing mischief to our fellow-creatures they seldom can be just.
Mr Barlow.—You are indeed right there. Of all
the blood that has been shed since the beginning of the world to the present day, but very little indeed has been owing to any cause that had either justice or common sense.
Harry.—I then have thought (though I pity poor soldiers extremely, and always give them something if I have any money in my pocket) that they draw these mischiefs upon themselves, because they endeavour to kill and destroy other people, and, therefore, if they suffer the same evils in return, they can hardly complain.
Mr Barlow.—They cannot complain of the evils to which they voluntarily expose themselves, but they may justly complain of the ingratitude of the people, for whom they fight, and who take no care of them afterwards.