T.

* * * * *

No. 152. Friday, August 24, 1711. Steele.

[Greek (transliterated):

Ohiae per phyll_on geneàe toiáede kaì andr_on].

Hom. 'Il.' 6, v. 146.

There is no sort of People whose Conversation is so pleasant as that of

military Men, who derive their Courage and Magnanimity from Thought and

Reflection. The many Adventures which attend their Way of Life makes

their Conversation so full of Incidents, and gives them so frank an Air

in speaking of what they have been Witnesses of, that no Company can be

more amiable than that of Men of Sense who are Soldiers. There is a

certain irregular Way in their Narrations or Discourse, which has

something more warm and pleasing than we meet with among Men who are

used to adjust and methodize their Thoughts.

I was this Evening walking in the Fields with my Friend Captain SENTRY,

and I could not, from the many Relations which I drew him into of what

passed when he was in the Service, forbear expressing my Wonder, that

the Fear of Death, which we, the rest of Mankind, arm ourselves against

with so much Contemplation, Reason and Philosophy, should appear so

little in Camps, that common Men march into open Breaches, meet opposite

Battalions, not only without Reluctance but with Alacrity. My Friend

answered what I said in the following manner:

'What you wonder at may very naturally be the Subject of Admiration to

all who are not conversant in Camps; but when a Man has spent some

time in that way of Life, he observes a certain Mechanick Courage

which the ordinary Race of Men become Masters of from acting always in

a Crowd: They see indeed many drop, but then they see many more alive;

they observe themselves escape very narrowly, and they do not know why

they should not again. Besides which general way of loose thinking,

they usually spend the other Part of their Time in Pleasures upon

which their Minds are so entirely bent, that short Labours or Dangers

are but a cheap purchase of Jollity, Triumph, Victory, fresh Quarters,

new Scenes, and uncommon Adventures.'

Such are the Thoughts of the Executive Part of an Army, and indeed of

the Gross of Mankind in general; but none of these Men of Mechanical

Courage have ever made any great Figure in the Profession of Arms. Those

who are formed for Command, are such as have reasoned themselves, out of

a Consideration of greater Good than Length of Days, into such a

Negligence of their Being, as to make it their first Position, That it

is one Day to be resigned; and since it is, in the Prosecution of worthy

Actions and Service of Mankind they can put it to habitual Hazard. The

Event of our Designs, say they, as it relates to others, is uncertain;

but as it relates to ourselves it must be prosperous, while we are in

the Pursuit of our Duty, and within the Terms upon which Providence has

ensured our Happiness, whether we die or live. All [that [1]] Nature has

prescribed must be good; and as Death is natural to us, it is Absurdity

to fear it. Fear loses its Purpose when we are sure it cannot preserve

us, and we should draw Resolution to meet it from the Impossibility to

escape it. Without a Resignation to the Necessity of dying, there can be

no Capacity in Man to attempt any thing that is glorious: but when they

have once attained to that Perfection, the Pleasures of a Life spent in

Martial Adventures, are as great as any of which the human Mind is

capable. The Force of Reason gives a certain Beauty, mixed with the

Conscience of well-doing and Thirst of Glory, to all which before was

terrible and ghastly to the Imagination. Add to this, that the

Fellowship of Danger, the common good of Mankind, the general Cause, and

the manifest Virtue you may observe in so many Men, who made no Figure

till that Day, are so many Incentives to destroy the little

Consideration of their own Persons. Such are the Heroick Part of

Soldiers who are qualified for Leaders: As to the rest whom I before

spoke of, I know not how it is, but they arrive at a certain Habit of

being void of Thought, insomuch that on occasion of the most imminent

Danger they are still in the same Indifference. Nay I remember an

Instance of a gay _French-man_, who was led on in Battle by a superior

Officer, (whose Conduct it was his Custom to speak of always with

Contempt and Raillery) and in the Beginning of the Action received a

Wound he was sensible was mortal; his Reflection on this Occasion was,

_I wish I could live another Hour, to see how this blundering Coxcomb

will get clear of this Business._ [2]

I remember two young Fellows who rid in the same Squadron of a Troop of

Horse, who were ever together; they eat, they drank, they intreagued; in

a word, all their Passions and Affections seemed to tend the same Way,

and they appeared serviceable to each other in them. We were in the Dusk

of the Evening to march over a River, and the Troop these Gentlemen

belonged to were to be transported in a Ferry-boat, as fast as they

could. One of the Friends was now in the Boat, while the other was drawn

up with others by the Waterside waiting the Return of the Boat. A

Disorder happened in the Passage by an unruly Horse; and a Gentleman who

had the Rein of his Horse negligently under his Arm, was forced into the

Water by his Horse's Jumping over. The Friend on the Shore cry'd out,

Who's that is drowned trow? He was immediately answer'd, Your Friend,

_Harry Thompson_. He very gravely reply'd, _Ay, he had a mad Horse_.

This short Epitaph from such a Familiar, without more Words, gave me, at

that Time under Twenty, a very moderate Opinion of the Friendship of

Companions. Thus is Affection and every other Motive of Life in the

Generality rooted out by the present busie Scene about them: they lament

no Man whose Capacity can be supplied by another; and where Men converse

without Delicacy, the next Man you meet will serve as well as he whom

you have lived with half your Life. To such the Devastation of

Countries, the Misery of Inhabitants, the Cries of the Pillaged, and the

silent Sorrow of the great Unfortunate, are ordinary Objects; their

Minds are bent upon the little Gratifications of their own Senses and

Appetites, forgetful of Compassion, insensible of Glory, avoiding only

Shame; their whole Hearts taken up with the trivial Hope of meeting and

being merry. These are the People who make up the Gross of the Soldiery:

But the fine Gentleman in that Band of Men is such a One as I have now

in my Eye, who is foremost in all Danger to which he is ordered. His

Officers are his Friends and Companions, as they are Men of Honour and

Gentlemen; the private Men his Brethren, as they are of his Species. He

is beloved of all that behold him: They wish him in Danger as he views

their Ranks, that they may have Occasions to save him at their own

Hazard. Mutual Love is the Order of the Files where he commands; every

Man afraid for himself and his Neighbour, not lest their Commander

should punish them, but lest he should be offended. Such is his Regiment

who knows Mankind, and feels their Distresses so far as to prevent them.

Just in distributing what is their Due, he would think himself below

their Tailor to wear a Snip of their Cloaths in

Lace upon his own; and below the most rapacious Agent, should he enjoy

a Farthing above his own Pay. Go on, brave Man, immortal Glory is thy

Fortune, and immortal Happiness thy Reward.

The Spectator, Volume 1 Eighteenth-Century Periodical Essays · 第 282 / 351 题