BOSWELL IN NORMANDY
By MILES JUVENIS SOME time before we left England I had been collecting a few suitable books to take with me on my travels. The choice is one which most people have considered at one time or another, more often than not merely as a mental exercise. But now, with the Second Front assuming actuality at last, for the first time in my life the problem was real. The principle to be followed obviously was that each book must be small and light, while the whole collec- tion must cover as wide a range of literature as possible. But if emphasis were needed, it was to be on books which would contain plenty of food for thought and yet not be indigestible. High in this category came Boswell ; an advertisement in The Times produced one by return of post. My anonymous benefactor wished me luck and hoped that I too would find him an excellent companion. I have indeed.
I had known that I should find the great Doctor's company pleasant and stimulating, for in a world of censorship he would say exactly what he thought, in a world of curt military messages he would speak with his own rich and sonorous style ; and whatever opinion he offered would be founded on great experience of life. But what I did not know was this, that his wisdom would travel safely down the years and mean as much to me today as ever it meant to his contemporaries. I had expected an entertaining guest, but I found also a friend whose word I could trust and whose advice was simple, wise and up-to-date.
Of course some of his remarks have aged and some now seem grossly unreasonable. For instance, his opinion of our Allies, the Americans, cofidted in the most uncompromising language, has lost any significance it ever had ; we have better targets now at which to aim that violent criticism which serves often as the relief-valve of a boiling temperament. The times have changed also since Johnson visited the Lincolnshire militia : for " in walking among the tents, and observing the difference between those of the officers and private men, he said, that the superiority of accommodation of the better conditions of life to that of the inferior ones was never exhibited to him in so distinct a view." Come back, my dear Doctor, and see the little bivouac nestling against the side of the Lank and inside it the crew asleep, crowded side-by-side, officers, on-commissioned officers and men. I read that passage of yours aloud in the bivouac, and we laughed, and were glad that times had Changed.
But time has not touched Johnson's outlook on life. The advice which he gave came from careful observation and long experience of human nature ; human nature changes but slowly. On two broad questions this advice has been particularly relevant, two questions Which most soldiers are -asking themselves before and during the battle : what is the meaning of fear and where, if anywhere, is ppiness to be found. Johnson said that fear was natural to man. You remember that the Emperor Charles V, when he read upon e tomb of a Spanish nobleman, 'Here is one who never knew fear,' wittily said, ' Then he never snuffed a candle with his fingers.'"
Johnson himself had a very strong fear of death, and was con- stantly saying so ; Boswell talks of his direful apprehensions of futurity. It is because he had met and faced the problem of feat that his wisdom has such value. A philosopher is not a theorist, but a man who has experienced the difficulties of life, has drawn rational conclusions from his experience and has acted in accordance with his conclusions.
So when Johnson tells us not to overrate the power of fear, we know that these are not the words of a man who was unacquainted with the problem. He was one who had to struggle to live up to his own advice ; for it requires great self-control. First, he said, try to see difficulties without emotion and without exaggeration. " Don't, Sir, accustom yourself to use big Ards for little matters." Then put them in their correct proportion and see them against the background of flowing time. "Consider, Sir, how insignificant this will appear a twelvemonth hence." A strong mind will thus be able to overcome most fears by seeing them in retrospect ; they are then shown in their true perspective. This, however, provides no cure for those direful apprehensions of futurity which Johnson felt. This question he answered not by advice but by example. He never tried to shirk the problem ; he saw it in its full horror. Six months passed between the first stroke of paralysis and the day of his death, and in those six months he suffered from dropsy, asthma and periodic insomnia. "My diseases are an asthma and a dropsy, and what is less curable, seventy-five." Nevertheless, he suffered in patience and with great piety.
A philosopher is certainly one who can, and who does, visualise and anticipate the worst that could befall him, so that he is pre- pared for what may come ; but he is also one who studies the pursuit' of happiness so that he may live his life to the full. No man would struggle to overcome fear if he were not spurred on by hope of some happiness to come ; indeed, hope is the key to the conquest of fear. For all fear is counterbalanced to some small extent by hope. Almost every soldier goes into battle with the feel- ing that somehow, come what may, however great the losses, he him- self will come through safe. That is the foundation of most of man's bravery. Johnson once supported with fervour the truth of Pope's remark, " Man never is, but always to be, blest." It would be wrong to assume that he therefore believed present happiness to be unrealisable, for he often argued against his own opinion. But he clearly regarded hope as one of the pillars of happiness.
He was wise enough never to prescribe a recipe for happiness. That has never successfully been done. For in his philosophy happiness was something more than the sum of its parts. "Pound St. Paul's church into atoms, and consider any single atom ; it is, to be sure, good for nothing : but put all these atoms together, and you have St. Paul's church. So it is with human felicity, which is ,made up of many ingredients, each of which may be shown to be very insignificant." There surely speaks the voice of experi- ence, as clearly and as wisely, to us young men today as to the young ambitious Boswell some two hundred years ago.
And now I need another " desert-island " book ; I need another friend and teacher. Who should it be?
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