It is not necessary here to expose the fallacy of such reasoning. Our soldiers were quite as brave when there was no Victoria Cross at all as they are at the present moment: that Cross was intended not to _create_, but to _reward_ valour. The British soldier requires no outward stimulus, no promised reward, to incite him to do his duty: a true hero will prove himself to be a hero, because it is his nature to be so, and he cannot help it. Nelson never thought of ribbons or peerages when he was fighting our battles at sea; his only ambition was to conquer or to die. The soldier or sailor who distinguishes himself in action never dreams of reward: he is a hero, and he does heroic deeds almost without knowing it. Of all the men who wear the Victoria Cross upon their breasts, there is not one, we believe, who ever thought of that badge of distinction at the moment he earned it. It was innate heroism or tender humanity that placed him at the head of the forlorn hope, or led him to risk his own life to rescue a wounded comrade. The man who would do such deeds from such a purely mercenary motive as the love of applause, would be unworthy of the name of soldier; his selfishness would be even more remarkable than his courage. The Queen’s own Cross was not intended to encourage such selfishness, or to reward such courage; nor has it ever done so. Many of those who wear it were surprised at its being awarded to them, so humble was their estimate of the value of the deeds by which they obtained it; no one ever performed those deeds for the purpose of being awarded the Victoria Cross. It is the expression of our national admiration for deeds which demand some public recognition, and cannot be adequately rewarded in any other way. These remarks have been elicited by the strictures with which Sir Colin Campbell accompanied the letter of expostulation from the officers of the 64th Regiment, which he forwarded to His Royal Highness the Duke of Cambridge. In that letter they complained, with much appearance of reason, that their own honour and that of the regiment had been compromised by an officer of the staff usurping the place of Major Stirling, the officer in command, when there was nothing to justify him in doing so. Major Stirling was at the head of his regiment, and the 64th were discharging the duty assigned to them. If he was not mounted, there was a sufficient reason for this: his horse had been wounded by the bursting of a shell, and was unable to carry him. If the regiment had betrayed any irresolution, or hesitated to advance, the occasion might have justified young Havelock’s interference; but they positively denied that such was the case, and requested that some steps might be taken to vindicate their honour, which had been impugned by awarding the Victoria Cross to one whose conduct was more deserving of censure than of praise.