repeat that such deeds of impulsive bravery are more to be admired than imitated. It must be borne in mind, however, that Colonel Bell received the Victoria Cross, not only for capturing the Russian gun at the Alma, but also for bringing the regiment out of action when his superior officers had fallen, and exhibiting the same daring spirit on many subsequent occasions. It is a pleasure to see his manly figure among the other heroes in the Victoria Cross Gallery, and we hope he will long continue to wear the badge of distinction which his sovereign conferred upon him. [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XII. COMMANDER (NOW CAPTAIN) FIOTT DAY, R.N., AND THE VICTORIA CROSS. Our sailors do not occupy a very prominent place in Mr. Desanges’ Victoria Cross Gallery. We find that only four of his paintings have been devoted to the gallant deeds of our naval heroes, but we must not infer from this that British sailors are inferior to British soldiers, or that blue jackets have deteriorated since the days of Nelson. This is far from being the case, as we all know. But two conditions are necessary to constitute a hero: it is not enough that a man be brave, he must also have an opportunity of displaying his bravery. There are, doubtless, many Hampdens sleeping in our village churchyards, and many Nelsons serving on board our ships; all that has been wanting is the opportunity of displaying their patriotism or their courage. We are all more or less the creatures of circumstances; the race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, because the swift and the strong are often debarred by fate from either running or fighting. Time and chance, as the wise man tells us, happen to all. Nelson would never have been a hero if he had not robbed an orchard, and Fiott Day might have been known only as a very intelligent commander in the British navy if it had not been for the Crimean war. It was one of the oratorical or conversational hits of Lord Palmerston, that if the Crimean war had no other advantage, it at least extended our knowledge of geography. Some hard-headed people may imagine that we paid dear for the lesson, but not one will deny that the long-protracted contest _did_ increase our knowledge of those semi-barbarous regions, the names of which, we fear, were little familiar even to those schoolboys who had gained the first prizes in geography. Knowledge thus acquired, however, is seldom permanent; when the war ceased, our interest in the localities where the great battles were fought became less vivid. It is well that the rising generation, in whom all the hopes of England are centred, should be familiar with the courage, the endurance, and the heroic deeds of those who took part in that disastrous war; such knowledge excites their sympathy, stimulates their ambition, and elicits that spirit of adventure which has made Britain the mistress of an empire far more extended than that of ancient Rome.