In the evening, just before they sat down to cards, the Colonel opened the campaign, by saying, "It is natural for every man to give a decided preference to his own profession; but for my part, if I were to begin life again, and had my choice, I would enter the army. There it is a man acquires glory."
"And there it is," said Emma, "he is exposed to danger."
"Why, very true, Miss Holmes, but you know that the field of danger is where the crown of honour is won!"
"Yes, but what sacrifice of feeling does it require?"
"Why, very true, but you know feeling is rather sentimental!"
"Sentimental, Sir!" said the lively young lady, "and did you think so when you received your wound in the head? It was then, I suspect, felt to be real."
"Why, yes," said the Colonel, somewhat embarrassed, "very true; but we don't pay much regard to feeling when engaged in the conflict."
"So I suppose; nor much regard to feeling in prospect of the conflict, and still less when it is over."
"There you are mistaken; for before the battle begins, a death-like horror comes over the most courageous spirit; but when it is over, the shout of victory gives an ecstasy of delight."
"But how is it changed when you look round on the mangled bodies of the slain—on your friends and comrades weltering in their blood—or think of the wives and children whom the sword makes widows and orphans!"