differing chiefly in regard to the nature and amount of the provocation
which will move them to violence and combat. To this day nothing moves
the admiration of the people so quickly as composure, ingenuity, and
success in fighting; so that even in political contests all the terms
and similes are drawn from war, and among American sports the most
popular have in them a large element of combat. Washington was roused
and stimulated by the dangers of the battlefield, and utterly despised
cowards, or even men who ran away in battle from a momentary terror
which they did not habitually manifest. His early experience taught him,
however, that the Indian way of fighting in woods or on broken ground
was the most effective way; and he did not hesitate to adopt and
advocate that despised mode of fighting, which has now, one hundred and
fifty years later, become the only possible mode. The Indian in battle
took instantly to cover, if he could find it. In our Civil War both
sides learned to throw up breastworks wherever they expected an
engagement to take place; and the English in South Africa have
demonstrated that the only possible way to fight with the present long
range quick-firing guns, is the way in which the "treacherous devils,"
as Washington called the Indians, fought General Braddock, that is, with
stratagem, surprise, and ambuscade; with hiding and crawling behind
screens and obstacles; with the least possible appearance in open view,
with nothing that can glitter on either arms or clothes, and with no
visible distinction between officers and men. War is now a genuinely
Indian performance, just as Washington saw one hundred and fifty years
ago that it ought to be.

The silent Washington's antipathy to the press finds an exact parallel
in our own day. He called the writers of the press "infamous
scribblers." President Cleveland called them "ghouls." But it must be
confessed that the newspapers of Washington's time surpassed those of