PATRIOTIC OBSCURANTISM.

WE have noticed of late with some dismay the wide spread in this country of an idea which was formerly almost confined to the Continent, that patriotism requires all politicians to be obscurantists. It is alleged, and not only by Tories, but by many Liberals, that if a politician knows any fact which tells to the disadvantage of his country, he should conceal it ; that he should, when the public interest requires the sacrifice, help to keep things pleasant ; that he should avoid the ex- posure of a weak place in the national armour, as he would a treachery to his country. This idea is carried into all depart- ments of political thought. If Mr. Gladstone denounces an Arms Act professedly intended for one purpose, but really in- tended for another, he is unpatriotic ; if Sir Arthur Hobhouso says and proves that the Indian Government has broken faith about a Famine Fund, ho is unpatriotic ; if a publicist de- clares a threat to a foreign Power to be a bit of unreal braggadocio, he is unpatriotic, the degree of his" unpatriotism " depending upon the degree of his influence and responsibility. It is bad enough for a journalist to say we could not march a British army from Bushire to the Caucasus, but if Lord Hartington were to say it, he would be almost a traitor. It is a serious error for an Irish Member to say that Ireland employs half a corps d'armee, but if Mr. Lowther were to say it, his sin would be unspeakable, or rather would have been, had he been a Whig. Especially in military matters is a belief in obscurantism held to be essential to the character of a lover of his country. To say that the Indian Army has no transport, with Russia looking on, is positively wicked ; and to petition publicly for great-coats for soldiers serving in 10 degrees of frost, is to lend direct "aid and comfort to the enemy." To state the strength, or rather the weakness, of our regiments is to "open communications with the foe," and to point out that official numbers are in- correct in the sense of exaggeration is treason, which ought to be punishable in a Court. Unfavourable criticism of any pending military operation is "croaking," calculated to dis- hearten the nation, and hostile comment upon a General who may possibly be employed, is best, because most vaguely, de- scribed as " incendiarism." Even when terms of this kind are not employed, there remains in the minds of many excellent men an impression that criticism is, after all, only a solvent force, and not a constructive force, and that when the nation is at work on perilous operations, criticism should cease, and all men await results in patient silence, giving only such assistance as they can.

It would be easy to dispose of this idea upon the general principles that truth-telling must always be expedient, and that it is the duty of men in high positions to guide as well as to lead their countrymen ; but we wish just now to bring the argument down to a lower basis,—the one upon which those who condemn political and military criticism always try to place it. We contend that free speech about affairs, and more especially the free communication of facts, so far from diminishing, directly increases, the national strength, and especially the intelligence and force with which those affairs are directed. Every nation, or at all events, every nation with European life in it, and directed by a national and not a foreign Government, is in times of excitement, and especially in times of war, governed by a democracy. It does not matter a straw what its form of government may be ; the "people "—the whole mass—in great crises give the order, and must be and are obeyed by their appointed agents. The ultimate controlling power is with them, in Russia under a Czar, as in France under a Napoleon, in Germany almost as completely as in England. Comer or Czar, Chancellor or Premier, the Government which fails in under- takings of vital importance falls, and the new direction of policy or of military effort comes directly from the people. To inform that people, and to inform it continuously and fully, is therefore in times of crisis exactly as necessary as to inform the head of the State. The greatest martinet who ever wrote would pronounce a General who sent in a flattering report or deceptive estimate to his Commander-in-Chief a fool as well as a rogue, and he is just as clearly entitled to those epithets—except, indeed, that he has not broken pro- fessional laws—when he sends one in to the people. Ho just as much helps to disable that people from providing rein- forcements, or securing the right leader, or making the right sacrifice, as, had he reported to his superior, he would have disabled his Department. The nation must, in the last resort, help, and govern, and appoint ; and it cannot do its work wisely unless it is thoroughly acquainted with the facts. This is so well understood, that national opinion always weighs alike on statesmen and Generals, and its anticipations are felt as a kind of driving wind which it is impossible to evade. The effect of this situation when the democracy knows nothing—and we repeat that every nation when excited is a democracy—is to cause, in all cases, a de- mand for impossibilities. The statesmen are to defy a " cry," though behind it may be a rebellion ; to carry a "reform," though it may be fatal to a society ; to insist on terms, though the insistence may endanger national independence. Every one of those things has happened,—the first in this country, when the English mass wished to refuse Catholic emancipation, though refusal would have been followed, as Wellington said, by civil war, and might have been followed by a revolt of the Irish regiments ; the second, in France, on August 10, 1792, when society became for a time anarchical ; and the third, in Piedmont, when Parliament and the people rejected the

Treaty of Novara. The Generals, on the other hand, are to rush at the obstacles, ready or unready ; to defy the foe, though he is superior in strength ; to march, and march quickly, even if they march without food or ammunition. We have all seen the destruction of Napoleon for this reason, the dismemberment of Turkey for a similar one, and might, but for the English habit of debate, have seen, on a small scale, the same thing only yesterday among ourselves. The demand for a rush to Cabul to avenge Cavagnari became so loud that, but for the" pessimist," and therefore "unpatriotic," information instantly published, it might have been obeyed, and an army left stranded, without provisions or ammunition, in front of Charasia,b. The careful instruction of the people arrests its rash impulses, which is as useful as to arrest the rash impulses of any other Sovereign. It is precisely the same when energy, instead of caution, is required. There is no force, and can be no force, within a nation equal to that which a nation itself, when aroused and instructed, can and will exert to gain its ends. But until thoroughly informed, the nation naturally prefers its ease. No particle of the horror of

the Indian Mutiny was concealed from the English people—

it was, if anything, slightly exaggerated—and the nation, completely informed, made up its mind, and performed

the greatest of its many historic feats, sending 80,000 men.

to reconquer India, and maintaining them there till the mutineers. to the last hopelessly outnumbering the British, sank back despairing into their old quiescence. Nothing was concealed from the people of the North in the American Civil War, and knowing everything, the nation grew as de- termined as its soldiers, and at last sanctioned the tremendous

resolve to expend two lives for one, which enabled Grant and Sherman to close the war with victory. Only a nation speak- ing for itself could have made that effort, and only a nation

aware of every difficulty, of every impending danger, of every obstacle to less expensive warfare, would have sanctioned its being made. At this very moment, supposing circumstances

to demand the despatch of an army to India, the chiefs of the State would preface it by the fullest revelation of danger, just as, if we could send transport from hence, the full revela- tion of the break-down of transport would make that huge expenditure seem light. There is no such error as the fancy that democracies are cowed by the revelation of adverse facts. They are always, unless the adversity amounts to ruin, excited by them, even France, the most sensitive of all de- mocracies, exerting herself after Sedan ten times as much as before it. Without the facts, France would have sunk in torpor, vainly believing in her own possible success until she was entirely subjugated.

But the facts may inform the enemy ? Yes, and leading at whist from your strongest suit will inform your adversary as well as your partner, but still you must make that lead. No-

body who understands human affairs doubts that in many cases the choice lies between two sets of evils, or that every course open for adoption will involve mischief of some sort or other. We should never dream of denying that the extreme publicity of our day, and especially the English habit of

publicly criticising all things, had its attendant evils, both in politics and war. A threat is sometimes seen to be unreal, or a promise hard of fulfilment ; an impending movement is some- times revealed, and the weakness of a position occasionally made

known prematurely. A good General does occasionally get scant justice—though the rule is the other way—and it is sometimes

most difficult to support the best men when they have made, as all Generals must make, an unexpected failure. Our contention is, that the balance of benefit is on the side of publiolty,-and

especially that it increases the intelligence, the energy, and the tenacity of the ultimate Commander-in-Chief, the nation, which must find all resources, select all agents, and make up for all mistakes, and which, if only it is enlightened by those it trusts, will do all those things. The mode of enlightenment is an open question, but hitherto, at all events, the rough and ready plan of hearing everybody, reading everything, noting every comment, particularly if distrustful, and then deciding for itself, has been found by the nation to be the best. The only alternative is to use the official historiographer, and we all see what that comes to in this Indian affair, in which no fact of importance is ever stated correctly by official reporters, and consequently the nation, while only half awake to what is occurring, disbelieves pleasant news and bad news with im- partial incredulity. The monopoly of intelligence by officials produces no effect, except occasional violent panic.