Dr. Johnson defines valor, bravery, and courage almost as synonymous terms. Mr. Addison distinguishes between that sort of courage which springs, by instinct, from the soul, and from that which originates in a sense of duty, and is strengthened by reflexion. Count Turpin, on the other hand, establishes a wide difference between bravery and courage, which he makes two terms. In page 5, of the preliminary discourse to his Essay on the Art of War, he has the following passage:
“Is the officer—speaking of the requisite qualifications in a general—who loves his duty, and who would make himself master of it, under no obligation to ascertain what qualifications his station requires? That he ought to have such or such a quality, under such or such a circumstance? That here only bravery is necessary, there only courage? And that he is not always obliged to have both at the same time?”
These two qualities, which are often confounded in the same subject, merit a particular distinction; they are not so closely united, but that one may be found without the other. Courage seems fittest for a general, and for all those who command; bravery more necessary for a soldier, and for all those who receive orders; bravery is in the blood; courage in the soul; the first is a kind of instinct, the second a virtue; the one is an impulse almost mechanical, the other a noble and a sublime conception. A man is brave at a particular time, and according to circumstances; but he has a courage at all times, and upon all occasions: bravery is impetuous, in as much as it is less the result of reflexion; courage, on the contrary, in proportion as it grows out of reason, becomes more or less intrepid. Bravery is inspired by the force of example, by insensibility of danger, and by the mingled fury of conflict and action; courage is infused by the love of our duty, the desire of glory, and by the zeal we feel to serve our country: courage depends on reason, but bravery on the constitution. Achilles, such as Horace describes him from Homer, implacable, cruel, despising every law except that of the strongest! presents nothing to the idea, but the hardiness of a gladiator. But the Roman general, whose death would have occasioned the ruin of the army, the great Scipio, when covered by the bucklers of three soldiers, to avoid a shower of arrows, which the enemy directed against him, approaches in safety the walls he besieged, and standing only a spectator of the action, exhibits the picture of true courage, whilst he contents himself with giving the necessary orders. Bravery again, is involuntary, and does not depend wholly upon ourselves; whereas courage (as Seneca observes) may be acquired by education; provided nature has sown the first seeds of it. Cicero, sheltering himself from the hatred of Cataline, undoubtedly wanted bravery; but certainly he possessed an elevated firmness of mind (which is in reality courage) when he disclosed the conspiracy of that traitor to the senate, and pointed out all his accomplices; or when he pleaded for Deiotarus against Cæsar, his friend and his judge.
Coolness is the effect of courage, which knows its danger, but makes no other use of that knowlege, than to give directions with greater certainty; courage is always master of itself, provided against all accidents, and regulated by existing circumstances; never confounded by any danger, so as to lose sight of the motions of the enemy, or of the means by which he may be most effectually opposed:
The chevalier Folard makes the following remarks upon this quality of the mind and heart. He says, in his notes on Polybius, there are various kinds of that species of courage, intrepidity, or strength of soul, which no circumstances can vanquish, and no events can shake. I do not know whether a quality, so diversified in its nature, can be found united in the same person to the full extent of its activity. We generally, discover that some men possess a larger proportion of it than others.
In order to form a correct opinion of its existence in the human character, we should find out some individual who had acted through all the vicissitudes of life, and had uniformly discovered the same firmness of mind and intrepidity of heart. But where shall we pick out a character of this sort? Life is too short for the full exercise of its various powers, and were it of a longer date, the circumscribed faculties of man render the research useless. I do not believe it possible to point out an individual who, free from the natural weaknesses that are attached to our constitution, has in adversity as well as prosperity been equally firm, and equally determined throughout all the changes to which military operations are unavoidably subject.
This intrepidity and strength of mind, have been peculiarly visible on manifold occasions in some extraordinary characters, who have been equally remarkable on others for weakness and pusillanimity. We have seen them bold to the full extent of hardihood during a succession of triumphs; we have then beheld them shamefully agitated under a temporary reverse of fortune, and we have again seen them recover their wonted energy on the first favorable opportunity. These opposite qualities succeed one another; and we see boldness and timidity occupy by turns the same man, so as to produce, according to circumstances, the utmost solicitude and caution in some instances, and the greatest courage, firmness, and decision in others, during the prosecution of a war.
These fluctuations of the human character may be traced, almost every day, in a certain description of generals. When they are reduced to defensive operations, their understanding becomes perplexed; they know not how to act, and not only omit to make use of favorable opportunities themselves, but unwittingly afford them to their enemies; whilst, on the other hand, in offensive war, their genius expands itself into a variety of expedients; they create occasions that did not seem to exist, turn them to account, and finally succeed. Thus we see united in the same men, promptitude, vigor, and enterprize in one species of warfare; and timidity, doubt, and consternation in another.
I have known, says Folard, generals of marked intrepidity, (who in trifling matters have discovered a solicitude that approaches to a want of manliness) conceive projects of vast extent, that were full of intricate developements, and chequered by incertitude; and I have seen them conquer the greatest obstacles by their courage and good conduct.
Human nature is so strangely constituted, that whilst one man will rush into danger, as if attracted by blood and devastation, another will not have firmness enough to stand his ground, and face the coming evil. He, who in the hour of battle would give fresh courage to his troops, by being the foremost to advance, has been known to turn pale in the very trench where a soldier’s boy or woman has sat undisturbed selling spirits and provisions, or has been discovered to tremble when the signal for storming was given. The very man that would courageously lead his troop into action, or would prove the most expert marksman in the world, were he directed to practise in the front of a whole line, has been known to shrink at a single combat, and would rather rush headlong into a guarded breach, than measure swords or point a pistol with an antagonist. Another again, whom no danger could affect in public contests or in private feuds, when visited by sickness is full of apprehension, has recourse to physic, and in proportion as his malady increases, grows timid, scrupulous, and unhappy. It sometimes happens, on the other hand, though rarely, that the rankest coward will he peaceably in bed amidst all the surrounding terrors of dissolution, and will even smile as his agony approaches.