leaders imposed at pleasure to serve their own in

terest.

I will quit this subject for the present, when I have told one story: "There was a great king in Scythia, whose dominions were bounded on the north by the poor mountainous territories of a petty lord, who paid homage, as the king's vassal. The Scythian prime minister, being largely bribed, indirectly obtained his master's consent to suffer this lord to build forts, and provide himself with arms, under pretence of preventing the inroads of the Tartars. This little depending sovereign, finding he was now in a condition to be troublesome, began to insist upon terms, and threatened upon every occasion to unite with the Tartars: upon which the prime minister, who began to be in pain about his head, proposed a match betwixt his master and the only daughter of this tributary lord, which he had the good luck to bring to pass; and from that time valued himself as author of a most glorious union, which indeed was grown of absolute necessity by his corruption." This passage, cited literally from an old history of Sarmatia, I thought fit to set down, on purpose to perplex little smattering remarkers, and put them upon the hunt for an application.

* The author of the MEDLEY, one of those "smattering remarkers," did not fail to translate this piece of Sarmatian history into plain English. It contains that account of the Union, which Swift says was sanctioned by Lord Somers' avowal, and which afterwards, when published in the "Public Spirit of the Whigs," gave such bitter offence to the Scottish Peers, that they waited upon Queen Anne in a body to state their complaint against the author. England being bounded on the north by a poor mountainous people, called Scots, who were vassals to that crown; and the English prime minister, being largely bribed, obtained the q's consent for the Scots to arm and exercise themselves; and they,

66

No. XX.

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 21, 1710.

-pugnacem scirent sapiente minorem.

Arms to the gown the victory must yield.

I AM very much at a loss how to proceed upon the subject intended in this paper, which a new incident has led me to engage in. The subject I mean is, that of soldiers and the army; but being a matter wholly out of my trade, I shall handle it in as cautious a manner as I am able.

It is certain, that the art of war has suffered great changes almost in every age and country of the world; however, there are some maxims relating to it, that will be eternal truths, and which every reasonable man must allow.

In the early times of Greece and Rome, the armies of those states were composed of their citizens, who took no pay, because the quarrel was their own; and therefore the war was usually de

finding they were now in a condition to be troublesome, began to insist upon terms, and threatened, upon every occasion, to join with the French. Upon which the prime minister, who began to be in pain about his head, set on foot a treaty to unite the two kingdoms, which he had the good luck to bring to pass, and from that time valued himself as author of a most glorious union, which, indeed, was grown of absolute necessity, by his corruption."-Medley, No. 14.

cided in one campaign; or, if it lasted longer, yet in winter the soldiers returned to their several callings, and were not distinguished from the rest of the people. The Gothic governments in Europe, although they were of military institution, yet observed almost the same method. I shall instance only here in England: those, who held lands in capite of the king, were obliged to attend him in his wars with a certain number of men, who all held lands from them, at easy rents, on that condition. These fought without pay; and when the service was over, returned again to their farms. It is recorded of William Rufus, that being absent in Normandy, and engaged in a war with his brother, he ordered twenty thousand men to be raised, and sent over hence to supply his army; but, having struck up a peace before they were embarked, he gave them leave to disband, upon condition they would pay him ten shillings a man, which amounted to a mighty sum in those days.

Consider a kingdom as a great family, whereof the prince is the father, and it will appear plainly, that mercenary troops are only servants armed, either to awe the children at home, or else to defend from invaders the family, who are otherwise employed, and choose to contribute out of their stock for paying their defenders, rather than leave their affairs to be neglected in their absence. The art of making soldiery a trade, and keeping armies in pay, seems in Europe to have had two originals: the first was usurpation; when popular men destroyed the liberties of their country, and seized the power into their own hands, which they were forced to maintain by hiring guards to bridle the people. Such were anciently the tyrants in most of the small states of Greece; and such were those in several parts of Italy, about three or four centuries

The other original

ago, as Machiavel informs us. of mercenary armies seems to have risen from larger kingdoms, or commonwealths, which had subdued provinces at a distance, and were forced to maintain troops upon them, to prevent insurrections from the natives. Of this sort were Macedon, Carthage, and Rome of old; Venice and Holland at this day, as well as most kingdoms in Europe. So that mercenary forces in a free state, whether monarchy or commonwealth, seem only necessary, either for preserving their conquests, (which in such governments it is not prudent to extend too far,) or else for maintaining war at a distance.

In this last, which at present is our most important case, there are certain maxims, that all wise governments have observed.

The first I shall mention is, that no private man should have a commission to be general for life, * let his merit and services be ever so great; or, if a prince be unadvisedly brought to offer such a commission in one hand, let him (to save time and blood) deliver up his crown with the other. The Romans, in the height and perfection of their government, usually sent out one of the new consuls to be general against their most formidable enemy, and recalled the old one; who often returned before the next election, and according as he had merit, was sent to command in some other part ; which perhaps was continued to him for a second, and sometimes a third year. But if Paulus Æmilius, or Scipio himself, had presumed to move the senate to continue their commission for life, they

*This, it is confidently affirmed by the Tory writers, was a scheme of the Duke of Marlborough.

would certainly have fallen a sacrifice to the jealousy of the people. Cæsar, indeed (between whom and a certain general, some of late, with much discretion, have made a parallel)* had his command

* The EXAMINER seems to allude to the following remarkable, and, to say the least, imprudent, article in the TATLER, No. 37. Such a passage, published by so warm an adherent of Marlborough as Steele, gives credit to Macpherson's assertion, that there really was some intention of maintaining the Duke in power, by his influence in the army. It is even affirmed, that under pretence his commission under the great seal could not be superseded by the queen's order of dismissal, it was designed that he should assemble the troops which were in town, and secure the court and capital. To prevent which, his commission was superseded by another under the great seal being issued as speedily as possible. The industrious editor of the Tatler in 1786, is of opinion, that the following article was written by Addison; but the violent councils which it intimates, seem less congenial to his character than to that of Steele, a less reflecting man, and bred a soldier. It is worthy of notice, that the passage is cancelled in all subsequent editions of the Tatler, till restored from the original folio in that of 1786. This evidently implies Steele's own sense, that more was meant than met the ear; and it affords a presumptive proof, that very violent measures had at least been proposed, if not agreed upon, by some of Marlborough's adherents.

"Will's Coffee-house, July 3.

"A very ingenious gentleman was complaining this evening, that the players are grown so severe critics, that they would not take in his play, though it has as many fine things in it as any play that has been writ since the days of Dryden. He began his discourse about his play with a preface.

"'There is, said he, somewhat (however we palliate it) in the very frame and make of us, that subjects our minds to chagrin and irresolution on any emergency of time or place. The difficulty grows on our sickened imagination, under all the killing circumstances of danger and disappointment. This we see, not only in the men of retirement and fancy, but in the characters of the men of action; with this only difference, the coward sees the danger, and sickens under it; the hero, warmed by the difficulty, dilates and rises in proportion to that, and in some sort makes use of his very fears to disarm it. A remarkable instance of this we