The Works of Samuel Johnson, LL.D. Volume 10

To these arguments, sir, I shall content myself with answering, that those who are versed in the history of Britain, know that we have had colliers and weavers for many years before a standing army was heard of among us, and that it is, nevertheless, nowhere recorded that any of our kings were deposed by those formidable bodies of men, or that any remarkable changes were made by them in the form of our government; and, therefore, till some reason shall be alleged, why such insurrections are now more dangerous, and our civil magistrates more impotent than in former ages, I humbly conceive, that even without the protection of a standing army, we might yet sleep in security, notwithstanding the plots of the colliers, and the combinations of the weavers.

But I must own, sir, these are not our only enemies, for there is somewhere, yet in existence, a person that lays claim to the dominion of these kingdoms, and pleads an hereditary title to dispose of our wealth, to subvert our liberties, and destroy our religion.

If any foreigner, sir, unacquainted with our affairs, were to be present at our debates, and to hear with what ardour we animate each other to an obstinate resistance of this pretender to the throne, how often he is represented as hovering over us, and how often we have caught a general panick, and imagined ourselves upon the verge of destruction, how often our most zealous patriots take opportunities of declaring their resolution to die in defence of their liberties; and how pathetically our most elegant declaimers have expatiated on the misery of that unhappy race, whom they should leave behind to groan under the oppression of absolute power, what would be his opinion of this pretender, whom he saw so perpetually dreaded, against whom so many alliances were formed, so many armies were levied, and so many navies equipped?

Would he not believe him to be some formidable tyrant in a neighbouring country, the lord of wide dominions, and the master of numerous armies and powerful fleets? Would he not imagine that he could assemble half the continent at his call, that he was supported by powerful alliances, and that nothing but a fair wind was required to land him on our coasts at the head of millions? And would he not, even on that supposition, be inclined to censure us as timorous, as somewhat regardless of the honour of our nation, and condemn us for giving way to such suspicions and exclamations, as have a natural tendency to heighten the apprehension of danger, and depress the spirits of the people?

But what would be his conclusion, sir, when he should be told, what in reality is true, that this dreadful pretender is an unhappy fugitive, driven in his infancy from this country, and by consequence without any personal interest; that he is supported by the charity of a prince whose name is hated almost by every inhabitant of the kingdom; that he has neither sovereignty, nor money, nor alliances, nor reputation in war, nor skill in policy; that all his actions are watched by British spies; and that the few friends that remain to support the farce of a court, are such only as dare not return to their native country, and are, therefore, without fortune, and without dependants?

What could a wise man conceive of a nation held in continual alarms by an enemy like this; of a nation always watchful against an invasion from a man who has neither dominions to supply, nor money to hire a single regiment; from a man whose title all the neighbouring princes disown, and who is at such a distance from them, that he cannot be assisted by them without open preparations, of which we cannot fail of having intelligence, and which may be defeated, without danger, by the vessels regularly stationed on our coasts?

Would not any stranger imagine, sir, that we were a nation infected with a general phrensy, that cowardice had perverted our imaginations, filled us with apprehensions of impossible invasions, raised phantoms before our eyes, and distracted us with wild ideas of slavery and tyranny, oppression and persecution?

I have dwelt thus long on this point, because I know the pretender is the last refuge of those who defend a standing army; not that I propose to convince any man of the folly of such apprehensions, or to fortify him against such terrours for the time to come; for if any man, in reality, now dreads the pretender, fear must be his distemper; he is doomed to live in terrours, and it is of no importance whether he dreads an invasion or a goblin, whether he is afraid to disband the army, or to put out his candle in the night; his imagination is tainted, and he must be cured, not by argument, but by physick.

But the greatest part of those who disturb our consultations with the mention of the pretender, are men of a very different character, men equally unconcerned about his designs, or his motions, with those who are most desirous of setting the nation free from the burden of an army, and very often such as we may discover, from their conduct, to be determined to comply with every government; and such as have, therefore, nothing to fear from a change of masters.

The men, for whose sake I am now speaking, sir, laugh equally with myself at the apprehensions of those whom they contribute to terrify; they know too well the impotence of the pretender to dread an invasion from him, and affect only to continue their outcries, that they may not be deprived of a topick, on which, by long practice, they have attained an uncommon facility of haranguing, which they know how to diversify with various combinations of circumstances, and how to accommodate to any emergent occasion, without the pain of torturing their inventions.

It may be useful, sir, to inform these men, that their disguise ought at last to be thrown off, because it deceives no longer, and that the nation cannot be cheated but at the expense of more cunning than they are willing, or perhaps able, to display. A mask must necessarily be thrown aside, when, instead of concealing, it discovers him by whom it is used.

Those who are attempting, sir, to deceive others, and whose character is exalted, in their own opinion, in proportion to the success of their endeavours, have surely a sense of shame, though they have none of virtue, and cannot, without pain, find their artifices detected, and themselves made the objects of ridicule, by those stratagems which they employ for the deception of others.

I hope, therefore, sir, that, for their own sakes, these declaimers on the exploded story of the pretender, will change their bugbear, that if it be necessary to frighten those whom they want art or eloquence to persuade, they will find out some other object of terrour, which, after a little practice in private meetings, they may first produce in the court, and then turn loose in the senate.

The world, methinks, allows them a sufficient choice of tyrants more formidable than the pretender. Suppose they should revive the history of the Mohocks. The Mohocks are a dreadful race, not to be mentioned without horrour, by a true lover of his country, and a steady adherent to the house of Hanover; they might then very easily increase our army, or enhance our taxes; for who would not be urged by his wife and daughter to agree to any measures that might secure them from the Mohocks?

But as an army is, at present, likely to be kept up for our defence, against an enemy less formidable, it may be more seasonable to propose the regulation than the dismission of our troops, and to mention those evils which arise from the present establishment, rather than those which are inseparable from the expense of a standing force.

If it be necessary, sir, to support soldiers, I suppose that it will not be denied by the advocates for an army, that we ought to levy such troops as may be of use; yet in their practice they seem to have paid very little regard to this principle. Our troopers are mounted upon horses which can serve no purpose but that of show, which may, indeed, wheel about in the park with a formidable air, but can neither advance upon an enemy with impetuosity, nor retreat from him with expedition; and which, therefore, though purchased by the nation at a very high price, and supported at a large expense, can only grace a review, but are of very little use in an enemy's country, and must perish in the march, or stand unactive in the battle.

Nor is much more service to be expected, sir, from their riders, than from the horses, for there are very few of them acquainted with the first elements of their profession, or who have ever learned more than a few postures of exercise, and the meaning of a few words of command, but have a number of officers with large appointments.

The French troops, sir, if they are doubly officered, are officered and maintained at a less expense, and to greater effect; for the soldiers are better instructed, and the same number of men cost not, perhaps, much more than half the charge of a British regiment.

The guards, sir, that are maintained about this metropolis, for no other purpose than to keep up the splendour of a modern court, cost the nation, yearly, such a sum as would be sufficient to support an army of Frenchmen, for the protection of their frontier towns, or the invasion of neighbouring countries.

For my part, I cannot see what injury would be done to the nation by abolishing an establishment, at the same time useless and expensive, and employing that money which is at present squandered upon idlers without effect, upon levies of useful soldiers for marching regiments, who might be employed, when occasion should require them, in the service of their country.

It will, doubtless, be objected, that the officers of this body of men, many of whom are persons of the highest merit, and who have, generally, purchased their commissions, might very justly complain of being deprived, without a crime, of that which they have bought at its full value, and to which, therefore, they imagine themselves entitled, till they shall forfeit their right by some offence against the laws, or some neglect of their duty.

I shall not, sir, at present, inquire into the justness of this plea, nor examine, whether he who purchases an employment, which he knows to be useless, and therefore burdensome to the publick, deserves that the publick should be solicitous to support him in the enjoyment of it; but I shall declare, on this occasion, with confidence, that I know many of the officers of the guards to be men of honour, who would gladly exchange their posts, so chargeable to the nation, for an opportunity of serving it, and who are not very anxious for the increase of their pay, so they may not be degraded from their present rank.

If these gentlemen, sir, might, in the regiments that should be raised by disbanding the guards, be advanced to higher commissions, though with some diminution of their pay, they would imagine themselves abundantly compensated by the happiness of becoming useful subjects, and serving that nation by which they have been, hitherto, supported only to fill up the pomp of levees, and add to the magnificence of drawing-rooms, to loiter in antechambers, and to quarrel at gaming tables.

If this scheme should not be approved, the method eligible, in the next degree, seems to be that of incorporating our new levies into the regiments already raised, that being associated with men already acquainted with discipline, they may learn their duty much more expeditiously than in separate bodies, where one officer will be obliged to attend to the instruction of great numbers, and where no man will be excited to application, because no man will see any degree of excellence which he may be ambitious of attaining.

I have, indeed, heard no reason alleged for the necessity of new levies, which appeared likely to convince even those by whom it was produced. It appears to me that our present army is more than sufficient for the publick service, without an augmentation, and that some of our regiments might immediately embark, not only without danger to the nation, but with far greater hopes of success, as our enemies would have less time to strengthen their fortifications, and collect their troops, and as disciplined forces are more formidable than troops newly levied; for discipline must be of great efficacy to the success of military undertakings, or all arguments which have been used in the defence of a standing army fall to the ground.

In answer to this proposal, we shall probably be once again intimidated with an invasion, whether from the pretender, the Spaniards, the French, or any other power, it is of no great importance. An invasion is a formidable sound; the sack of towns, the destruction of villages, the captivity of our children, the ruin of our fortunes, and the desolation of our country, are frightful images, and may, therefore, be successfully produced, on this occasion, to perplex our thoughts, and embarrass our inquiries.

To remove, therefore, this panick, and to dissipate, for ever, the phantoms of invasion, I will lay before the house the opinion of the great commander whose name has already been introduced in this debate. In the late reign, on a day when the great officers of the crown, and many of the council, were at a publick feast in the city, a report was suddenly spread that the duke of Ormond had landed in the west, with two thousand men. This account was, in appearance, well attested, and universally believed; all jollity was, therefore, at an end, the company departed, the council was summoned, and every man offered such expedients as his present thoughts, confused and oppressed with the proximity of the danger, suggested to him. One proposed, that a body of troops should be sent to a distant part of the kingdom, to restrain the seditions of the populace; another apprehended more danger from a different quarter, and advised that the inhabitants should be awed by another detachment sent thither; the most experienced easily saw the unprofitableness of the measures proposed, but could not so easily strike out more efficacious expedients, and therefore sat in great perplexity. Lord Somers, particularly, shook his head, and seemed to consider the kingdom as in the hands of the invaders, and the dreadful pretender as seated on the throne.

At last, the duke of MARLBOROUGH, who had hitherto sat silent, asked calmly, whether they were certain that any forces were really landed, and was answered, that though it might not be absolutely certain, yet they were to consult and send orders upon that supposition. Then, says he, I will lay down this great rule to be observed invariably, whenever you are invaded. Attend only to one point, nor have any other purpose in view than that of destroying the regular forces that shall be landed in the kingdom, without any regard to petty insurrections, which may be always easily quelled, and which will probably cease of themselves, when the army by which they were excited is cut off. For this end, let it be your rule, to keep your army undivided, and to make no motion but towards the enemies; fight them with the utmost expedition before they can fortify themselves, or receive reinforcements from the continent. By the observation of this plain method of operation, continued he, I will engage, without any other force than the regiments generally stationed about the capital, to put a stop to any troops that shall be landed on the coast of Britain.

So far was this great officer, who was acquainted with the whole art of war, from sinking into astonishment at the sound of an invasion, and so far from thinking it necessary that the nation should be harassed by standing troops, to preserve it from being plundered by a foreign army.

But though our troops, sir, should not be necessary to prevent an invasion, they may be useful in services of equal importance; the ministry may think the suffrages of the officers more serviceable than their swords, and may be more afraid of exposing themselves than the nation by any detachment of their forces.

Such is, at present, sir, the state of this unhappy country, that neither in peace nor war are any measures taken, but with a view of increasing or confirming the power of the ministry; for this purpose those troops whose officers have seats here, are to be retained at home, and the fate of our American settlements to be committed to new-levied forces, without military skill.

For this reason is an army to be raised without necessity, and raised in a manner that may furnish the court with an opportunity of extending its influence, by the disposal of great numbers of new commissions. By this plan every family that is burdened with a relation whose vices have ruined his fortune, or whose stupidity disqualifies him for employment, will have an opportunity of selling, for a commission, its interest at the approaching election; dependence will be propagated, and the troublesome spirit of liberty be depressed.

To little purpose will it be objected, that soldiers and officers will be equally ignorant, that discipline is not infused instantaneously, that a military dress will not make a soldier, that men can only know their duty by instruction, and that nothing is to be hoped from ploughmen and manufacturers, commanded by schoolboys. The success of the expedition is not so much considered by those who have the direction of the levies, as that of the election, and while they keep their posts, they are very little concerned about the affairs of America.

In defence of this method, it has, indeed, been affirmed, that it was preferred by the duke of MARLBOROUGH; but we are not informed to whom, or upon what occasion he declared his opinion, and, therefore, are left at liberty to doubt, whether his authority is not produced for a method which he did not approve, or approved only at some particular time for some extraordinary service.

It is urged, that he recommended it by his practice, and that his success is a sufficient proof that his practice was founded upon right maxims. But if it be remembered what was, in that time, the method of obtaining commissions, and who it was that had the disposal of them, it will appear not absolutely certain, that his practice ought to be produced as a decisive proof of his opinion.

If the success of troops be properly urged as an argument for the form of their establishment, may not the victories of prince Eugene afford a proof, equally convincing, that a few officers are sufficient? And if the arguments which arise from success are equal on both sides, ought not the necessity of saving the publick money to turn the balance?

War, sir, is in its own nature a calamity very grievous to the most powerful and flourishing people, and to a trading nation is particularly destructive, as it at once exhausts our wealth, and interrupts our commerce, at once drinks up the stream and chokes up the fountain. In those countries whose affairs are wholly transacted within their own frontiers, where there is either very little money, or where their wealth is dug out of their own mines, they are only weakened by the loss of men, or by the diminution of their dominions, and, in general, can only suffer by being overcome.

But the state of Britain is far different; it is not necessary to our ruin that an enemy should be stronger than ourselves, that he should be able to pour armies into our country, to cover the sea with fleets, to burn our villages by incursions, or destroy our fortresses with bombs; for he that can secure his own dominions from our attacks, to which nothing but distance and some advantages of situation are necessary, may support a war against us, and he that can fit out privateers to interrupt our trade, may, without obtaining a victory, reduce us to distress.

Our situation, sir, as it preserves us from the danger of an invasion, except from that powerful monarch, the pretender, who is, indeed, always to be dreaded, has, likewise, the effect of securing other nations from being invaded by us; for it is very difficult to transport in one fleet, and to land at one time, a number sufficient to force their way into a country where the ports are fortified, and the inhabitants in arms.

Our wars, sir, are, therefore, to be determined by naval battles, and those nations have very little to fear from us who have no trade to be disturbed, and no navies to be destroyed; if they can only fit out cruisers, which may always be done by granting commissions to foreign adventurers, they may ruin our merchants by captures, exhaust the nation by the necessity of convoys, and give neutral traders an opportunity of establishing their credit at those markets which have been, hitherto, supplied by our manufactures.

This is, indeed, far from being at present an exact account of the state of Spain, whose wide-extended dominions are liable to insults, and from whom many of her most wealthy provinces may be torn without great hazard or difficulty. The particular state of her commerce, which, being only carried on from one part of her dominions to another, can only be for a time interrupted, but is in no danger of being invaded by any rival, or lost by disuse, at least requires our consideration, and we ought to make war with the utmost frugality, against a people whom no hostilities can really impoverish, whose commerce may be said to lie at rest rather than to be shackled, as it will rise into greater vigour at the end of the war, and whose treasures, though the want of them is a present inconvenience, are only piled up for a time of security.

As the only method, sir, of reducing this nation, must be that of invading its colonies, and dismembering its provinces, by which the chief persons will be deprived of their revenues, and a general discontent be spread over the people, the forces which are levied for this expedition, an expedition on which so much of the honour of our arms and the prosperity of our trade must necessarily depend, ought to be selected with the greatest care, and disciplined with the exactest regularity.

On this occasion, therefore, it is surely improper to employ troops newly collected from shops and villages, and yet more irrational to trust them to the direction of boys called on this occasion from the frolicks of a school, or forced from the bosoms of their mothers, and the softness of the nursery. It is not without compassion, compassion very far extended, that I consider the unhappy striplings doomed to a camp, from whom the sun has hitherto been screened, and the wind excluded, who have been taught, by many tender lectures, the unwholesomeness of the evening mists and the morning dews, who have been wrapt in furs in winter, and cooled with fans in summer, who have lived without any fatigue but that of dress, or any care but that of their complexion.

Who can forbear, sir, some degree of sympathy, when he sees animals like these taking their last farewell of the maid that has fed them with sweetmeats, and defended them from insects; when he sees them drest up in the habiliments of soldiers, loaded with a sword, and invested with a command, not to mount the guard at the palace, nor to display their lace at a review; not to protect ladies at the door of an assembly room, nor to show their intrepidity at a country fair, but to enter into a kind of fellowship with the rugged sailor, to hear the tumult of a storm, to sustain the change of climates, and to be set on shore in an enemy's dominions?

Surely, he that can see such spectacles without sorrow, must have hardened his heart beyond the common degrees of cruelty, and it may reasonably be expected, that he who can propose any method by which such hardships may be escaped, will be thought entitled to gratitude and praise.

For my part, I should imagine, sir, that an easy method might be discovered of obviating such misery, without lessening that number of officers, which, perhaps, in opposition to reason and experience, some gentlemen will continue to think necessary, and hope that this may be no improper time to declare my opinion.

I have observed, that for some time no private centinel has ever risen to any rank above that of a serjeant, and that commissions have been reserved as rewards for other services than those of the camp. This procedure I cannot but think at once impolitick and unjust.

It is impolitick, sir, as it has a natural tendency to extinguish in the soldiery all emulation and all industry. Soldiers have an equal genius with other men, and undoubtedly there might be found among them great numbers capable of learning and of improving the military sciences; but they have, likewise, the same love of ease, and the desire of honour and of profit, and will not condemn themselves to labour without the prospect of reward, nor sacrifice their time to the attainment of that knowledge, which can have no other effect than to make them discover the stupidity of their commanders, and render their obedience more difficult, as it will destroy that reverence which is necessary to subordination.