For every kind of Vagabonds, high and low, agree in their dislike to give an account of the way they get their living; still less, of how much they have got sewn up in their breeches. It does not, however, matter much to a country that it should know how its poor Vagabonds live; but it is of vital moment that it should know how its rich Vagabonds live; and that much of knowledge, it seems to me, in the present state of our education, is quite attainable. But that, when you have attained it, you may act on it wisely, the first need is that you should be sure you are living honestly yourselves. That is why I told you, in my second letter, you must learn to obey good laws before you seek to alter bad ones:--I will amplify now a little the three promises I want you to make. Look back at them. I. You are to do good work, whether you live or die. It may be you will have to die;--well, men have died for their country often, yet doing her no good; be ready to die for her in doing her assured good: her, and all other countries with her. Mind your own business with your absolute heart and soul; but see that it is a good business first. That it is corn and sweet pease you are producing,--not gunpowder and arsenic. And be sure of this, literally:--you must simply rather die than make any destroying mechanism or compound. You are to be literally employed in cultivating the ground, or making useful things, and carrying them where they are wanted. Stand in the streets, and say to all who pass by: Have you any vineyard we can work in,--not Naboth's? In your powder and petroleum manufactory, we work no more. I have said little to you yet of any of the pictures engraved--you perhaps think, not to the ornament of my book. Be it so. You will find them better than ornaments in time. Notice, however, in the one I give you with this letter--the "Charity" of Giotto--the Red Queen of Dante, and ours also,--how different his thought of her is from the common one. Usually she is nursing children, or giving money. Giotto thinks there is little charity in nursing children;--bears and wolves do that for their little ones; and less still in giving money. His Charity tramples upon bags of gold--has no use for them. She gives only corn and flowers; and God's angel given her, not even these--but a Heart. Giotto is quite literal in his meaning, as well as figurative. Your love is to give food and flowers, and to labour for them only. But what are we to do against powder and petroleum, then? What men may do; not what poisonous beasts may. If a wretch spit in your face, will you answer by spitting in his?--if he throw vitriol at you, will you go to the apothecary for a bigger bottle?