All these are the natural effects of their government, and situation; they are accidentally more formidable as they are less happy. But the favour of the Indians which they enjoy, with very few exceptions, among all the nations of the northern continent, we ought to consider with other thoughts; this favour we might have enjoyed, if we had been careful to deserve it. The French by having these savage nations on their side, are always supplied with spies, and guides, and with auxiliaries, like the Tartars to the Turks or the Hussars to the Germans, of no great use against troops ranged in order of battle, but very well qualified to maintain a war among woods and rivulets, where much mischief may be done by unexpected onsets, and safety be obtained by quick retreats. They can waste a colony by sudden inroads, surprise the straggling planters, frighten the inhabitants into towns, hinder the cultivation of lands, and starve those whom they are not able to conquer.
(To be continued.) 7
Of the Duty of a JOURNALIST.1
It is an unpleasing consideration that Virtue cannot be inferred from Knowledge; that many can teach others those Duties which they never practise themselves; yet, tho’ there may be speculative Knowledge without actual Performance, there can be no Performance without Knowledge; and the present state of many of our Papers is such that it may be doubted not only whether the Compilers know their Duty, but whether they have endeavoured or wished to know it.
A Journalist is an Historian, not indeed of the highest Class, nor of the number of those whose works bestow immortality upon others or themselves; yet, like other Historians, he distributes for a time Reputation or Infamy, regulates the opinion of the week, raises hopes and terrors, inflames or allays the violence of the people. He ought therefore to consider himself as subject at least to the first law of History, the Obligation to tell Truth. The Journalist, indeed, however honest, will frequently deceive, because he will frequently be deceived himself. He is obliged to transmit the earliest intelligence before he knows how far it may be credited; he relates transactions yet fluctuating in uncertainty; he delivers reports of which he knows not the Authors. It cannot be expected that he should know more than he is told, or that he should not sometimes be hurried down the current of a popular clamour. All that he can do is to consider attentively, and determine impartially, to admit no falsehoods by design, and to retract those which he shall have adopted by mistake.
This is not much to be required, and yet this is more than the Writers of News seem to exact from themselves. It must surely sometimes raise indignation to observe with what serenity of confidence they relate on one day, what they know not to be true, because they hope that it will please; and with what shameless tranquillity they contradict it on the next day, when they find that it will please no longer. How readily they receive any report that will disgrace our enemies, and how eagerly they accumulate praises upon a name, which caprice or accident has made a Favourite. They know, by experience, however destitute of reason, that what is desired will be credited without nice examination: they do not therefore always limit their narratives by possibility, but slaughter armies without battles, and conquer countries without invasions.
There are other violations of truth admitted only to gratify idle curiosity, which yet are mischievous in their consequences, and hateful in their contrivance. Accounts are sometimes published of robberies and murders which never were committed, men’s minds are terrified with fictitious dangers, the publick indignation is raised, and the Government of our country depreciated and contemned. These Scriblers, who give false alarms, ought to be taught, by some public animadversion, that to relate crimes is to teach them, and that as most men are content to follow the herd, and to be like their neighbours, nothing contributes more to the frequency of wickedness, than the representation of it as already frequent.
There is another practice, of which the injuriousness is more apparent, and which, if the law could succour the Poor, is now punishable by law. The Advertisement of Apprentices who have left their Masters, and who are often driven away by cruelty or hunger; the minute descriptions of men whom the law has not considered as criminal, and the insinuations often published in such a manner, that, though obscure to the publick, they are well understood where they can do most mischief; and many other practices by which particular interests are injured, are to be diligently avoided by an honest Journalist, whose business is only to tell transactions of general importance, or uncontested notoriety, or by Advertisements to promote private convenience without disturbance of private quiet.
Thus far the Journalist is obliged to deviate from the common methods of his Competitors by the laws of unvariable morality. Other improvements may be expected from him as conducive to delight or information. It is common to find passages, in Papers of Intelligence, which cannot be understood: Obscure places are sometimes mentioned without any information from Geography or History. Sums of money are reckoned by coins or denominations, of which the value is not known in this country. Terms of war and navigation are inserted, which are utterly unintelligible to all who are not engaged in military or naval business. A Journalist, above most other men, ought to be acquainted with the lower orders of mankind, that he may be able to judge, what will be plain and what will be obscure; what will require a Comment, and what will be apprehended without Explanation. He is to consider himself not as writing to Students or Statesmen alone, but to Women, Shopkeepers, and Artisans, who have little time to bestow upon mental attainments, but desire, upon easy terms, to know how the world goes; who rises, and who falls; who triumphs, and who is defeated.
If the Writer of this Journal shall be able to execute his own Plan; if he shall carefully enquire after Truth, and diligently impart it; if he shall resolutely refuse to admit into his Paper whatever is injurious to private Reputation; if he shall relate transactions with greater clearness than others, and sell more instruction at a cheaper rate, he hopes that his labours will not be overlooked. This he promises to endeavour; and, if this Promise shall obtain the Favour of an early Attention, he desires that Favour to be continued only as it is deserved.
The Bravery of the English Common Soldiers.1
By those who have compared the military genius of the English with that of the French nation, it is remarked, that the French officers will always lead, if the soldiers will follow; and that the English soldiers will always follow, if their officers will lead.
In all pointed sentences some degree of accuracy must be sacrificed to conciseness; and, in this comparison, our officers seem to lose what our soldiers gain. I know not any reason for supposing that the English officers are less willing than the French to lead; but it is, I think, universally allowed that the English soldiers are more willing to follow. Our nation may boast, beyond any other people in the world, of a kind of epidemic bravery, diffused equally through all its ranks. We can shew a peasantry of heroes, and fill our armies with clowns, whose courage may vie with that of their general.
There may be some pleasure in tracing the causes of this plebeian magnanimity. The qualities which commonly make an army formidable, are long habits of regularity, great exactness of discipline, and great confidence in the commander. Regularity may in time, produce a kind of mechanical obedience to signals and commands, like that which the perverse Cartesians2 impute to animals: discipline may impress such an awe upon the mind, that any danger shall be less dreaded than the danger of punishment; and confidence in the wisdom or fortune of the general, may induce the soldiers to follow him blindly to the most dangerous enterprize.
What may be done by discipline and regularity, may be seen in the troops of the Russian Empress, and Prussian Monarch.3 We find that they may be broken without confusion, and repulsed without flight.
But the English troops have none of these requisites, in any eminent degree. Regularity is by no means part of their character: they are rarely exercised, and therefore shew very little dexterity in their evolutions as bodies of men, or in the manual use of their weapons as individuals: they neither are
thought by others, nor by themselves, more active or exact than their enemies, and therefore derive none of their courage from such imaginary superiority.
The manner in which they are dispersed in quarters over the country during times of peace, naturally produces laxity of discipline: they are very little in sight of their officers; and, when they are not engaged in the slight duty of the guard, are suffered to live every man his own way.
The equality of English privileges, the impartiality of our laws, the freedom of our tenures, and the prosperity of our trade, dispose us very little to reverence of superiors. It is not to any great esteem of the officers that the English soldier is indebted for his spirit in the hour of battle: for perhaps it does not often happen that he thinks much better of his leader than of himself. The French Count,4 who has lately published the Art of War, remarks how much soldiers are animated, when they see all their dangers shared by those who were born to be their masters, and whom they consider as beings of a different rank. The Englishman despises such motives of courage: he was born without a master; and looks not on any man, however dignified by lace or titles, as deriving from Nature any claims to his respect, or inheriting any qualities superior to his own.
There are some, perhaps, who would imagine that every Englishman fights better than the subjects of absolute governments, because he has more to defend. But what has the English more than the French soldier? Property they are both commonly without. Liberty is, to the lowest rank of every nation, little more than the choice of working or starving; and this choice is, I suppose, equally allowed in every country. The English soldier seldom has his head very full of the constitution; nor has there been, for more than a century, any war that put the property or liberty of a single Englishman in danger.
Whence then is the courage of the English vulgar? It proceeds, in my opinion, from that dissolution of dependance which obliges every man to regard his own character. While every man is fed by his own hands, he has no need of any servile arts: he may always have wages for his labour; and is no less necessary to his employer, than his employer is to him. While he looks for no protection from others, he is naturally roused to be his own protector; and having nothing to abate his esteem of himself, he consequently aspires to the esteem of others. Thus every man that crowds our streets is a man of honour, disdainful of obligation, impatient of reproach, and desirous of extending his reputation among those of his own rank; and as courage is in most frequent use, the fame of courage is most eagerly pursued. From this neglect of subordination I do not deny that some inconveniencies may from time to time proceed: the power of the law does not always sufficiently supply the want of reverence, or maintain the proper distinction between different ranks: but good and evil will grow up in this world together; and they who complain, in peace, of the insolence of the populace, must remember that their insolence in peace is bravery in war.
Appendix I Johnson’s prayer on beginning The Rambler
Almighty God, the giver of all good things, without whose help all Labour is ineffectual, and without whose grace all wisdom is folly, grant, I beseech Thee, that in this my undertaking thy Holy Spirit may not be witheld from me, but that I may promote thy glory, and the Salvation both of myself and others,—Grant this O Lord for the sake of Jesus Christ. Amen. Lord bless me. So be it.
Taken from Samuel Johnson, Diaries, Prayers, and Annals, ed. E. L.
McAdam, Jr (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1958), p. 43.
Appendix II Parallel texts of the original and revised states of The Rambler No. 1
First edition (1750)
Fourth edition (1756)
Cur tamen hoc libeat potiùs decurrere campo,
Cur tamen hoc libeat potius decurrere campo,
Per quem magnus equos Auruncæanimus si te non deficit æquus flexit Alumnus,
Per quem magnus equos Auruncæ flexit alumnus,
Si vacat, et placidi rationem admittitis, edam.
Si vacat, et placidi rationem admittitis, edam.
Juv.
Juv.
Why to expatiate in this beaten field,
Why arms, oft us’d in vain, I mean to wield;
If time permit, and candour will attend,
Some satisfaction this essay may lend.
ELPHINSTON.
THE Difficulty of the first Address, on any new Occasion, is felt by every Man in his Transactions with the World, and confessed by the settled and regular Forms of Salutation, which Necessity has introduced into all Languages. Judgment was wearied with the inextricable Perplexity of being forced upon Choice, where there was often no Motive to Preference; and it was found convenient that some easy Method of Introduction should be established, which, if it wanted the Allurement of Novelty, might enjoy in its place the Security of Prescription.
THE difficulty of the first address on any new occasion, is felt by every man in his transactions with the world, and confessed by the settled and regular forms of salutation which necessity has introduced into all languages. Judgment was wearied with the perplexity of being forced upon choice, where there was no motive to preference; and it was found convenient that some easy method of introduction should be established, which, if it wanted the allurement of novelty, might enjoy the security of prescription.
Perhaps few Authors have presented themselves before the Publick, without wishing that such ceremonial Modes of Entrance had been anciently established, as might have freed us from the Dangers, which the too ardent Desire of pleasing is certain to produce; and precluded the vain Expedients of softening Censure by Apologies, and of rousing Attention by Abruptness.
PERHAPS few authors have presented themselves before the public, without wishing that such ceremonial modes of entrance had been anciently established, as might have freed them from those dangers which the desire of pleasing is certain to produce, and precluded the vain expedients of softening censure by apologies, or rousing attention by abruptness.
The Epic Writers, indeed, have found the proemial Part of the Poem such an Addition to their laborious Undertaking, that they have almost unanimously adopted the first Lines of Homer, and the Reader needs only be informed of the Subject to know in what Manner the Scene will open.
THE epic writers have found the proemial part of the poem such an addition to their undertaking, that they have almost unanimously adopted the first lines of Homer, and the reader needs only be informed of the subject to know in what manner the poem will begin.
But this solemn Repetition has been hitherto the peculiar Distinction of Heroic Poetry, and has never been legally extended to the lower Orders of Literature, and seems to be considered as an hereditary Privilege, to be enjoyed only by those who can claim it from their Alliance to the Genius of Homer.
BUT this solemn repetition is hitherto the peculiar distinction of heroic poetry; it has never been legally extended to the lower orders of literature, but seems to be considered as an hereditary privilege, to be enjoyed only by those who claim it from their alliance to the genius of Homer.
The Rules, which long Observation of the injudicious Use of this Prerogative suggested to Horace, may, indeed, be applied to the Direction of Candidates for inferior Fame; and it may be proper for all to remember, that they ought not to raise Expectation which it is not in their power to satisfy, and that it is more pleasing to see Smoke gradually brightening into Flame, than Flame sinking into Smoke.
THE rules which the injudicious use of this prerogative suggested to Horace, may indeed be applied to the direction of candidates for inferior fame; it may be proper for all to remember, that they ought not to raise expectation which it is not in their power to satisfy, and that it is more pleasing to see smoke brightening into flame, than flame sinking into smoke.
Yet though this Precept has been long received, both from regard to the Authority of his that delivered it, and its Conformity to the general Opinion of the World, as well since as before his Time, there have been some, who have thought it no Deviation from Modesty, to recomme
nd their own Labours, and imagined themselves entitled, by indisputable Merit, to an Exemption from general Restraints, and to Elevations not allowed in common Life. They, perhaps, believed, that when, like Thucydides, they bequeathed to Mankind κτnμα ες αει, an Estate for ever, it was an additional Favour to inform them of its Value.
THIS precept has been long received both from regard to the authority of Horace and its conformity to the general opinion of the world, yet there have been always some, that thought it no deviation from modesty to recommend their own labours, and imagined themselves entitled by indisputable merit to an exemption from general restraints, and to elevations not allowed in common life. They, perhaps, believed that when, like Thucydides, they bequeathed to mankind κτημα ες αει, an estate for ever, it was an additional favour to inform them of its value.
It may, indeed, be no less dangerous to claim, on some Occasions, too little than too much. There is something captivating in Spirit and Intrepidity, to which we often yield, as to a resistless Power; nor can he reasonably expect the Confidence of others, who, too apparently, distrusts himself.
Selected Essays (Penguin Classics) Page 63
