ifficulties arise--and that must
always happen when great results are at stake--then things no longer
move on of themselves like a well-oiled machine, the machine itself then
begins to offer resistance, and to overcome this the Commander must have
a great force of will. By this resistance we must not exactly suppose
disobedience and murmurs, although these are frequent enough with
particular individuals; it is the whole feeling of the dissolution of
all physical and moral power, it is the heartrending sight of the bloody
sacrifice which the Commander has to contend with in himself, and
then in all others who directly or indirectly transfer to him their
impressions, feelings, anxieties, and desires. As the forces in one
individual after another become prostrated, and can no longer be excited
and supported by an effort of his own will, the whole inertia of the
mass gradually rests its weight on the Will of the Commander: by the
spark in his breast, by the light of his spirit, the spark of purpose,
the light of hope, must be kindled afresh in others: in so far only
as he is equal to this, he stands above the masses and continues to be
their master; whenever that influence ceases, and his own spirit is
no longer strong enough to revive the spirit of all others, the masses
drawing him down with them sink into the lower region of animal nature,
which shrinks from danger and knows not shame. These are the weights
which the courage and intelligent faculties of the military Commander
have to overcome if he is to make his name illustrious. They increase
with the masses, and therefore, if the forces in question are to
continue equal to the burden, they must rise in proportion to the height
of the station.

Energy in action expresses the strength of the motive through which the
action is excited, let the motive have its origin in a conviction of
the understanding, or in an impulse. But the latter can hardly ever be
wanting where great force is to show itself.

Of all the noble feelings which fill the human heart in the exciting
tumult of battle, none, we must admit, are so powerful and constant
as the soul's thirst for honour and renown, which the German language
treats so unfairly and tends to depreciate by the unworthy associations
in the words Ehrgeiz (greed of honour) and Ruhmsucht (hankering after
glory). No doubt it is just in War that the abuse of these proud
aspirations of the soul must bring upon the human race the most s