t in the use of the same.

Strategy is the employment of the battle to gain the end of the War; it
must therefore give an aim to the whole military action, which must be
in accordance with the object of the War; in other words, Strategy forms
the plan of the War, and to this end it links together the series of
acts which are to lead to the final decision, that, is to say, it makes
the plans for the separate campaigns and regulates the combats to be
fought in each. As these are all things which to a great extent can only
be determined on conjectures some of which turn out incorrect, while a
number of other arrangements pertaining to details cannot be made at
all beforehand, it follows, as a matter of course, that Strategy must go
with the Army to the field in order to arrange particulars on the spot,
and to make the modifications in the general plan, which incessantly
become necessary in War. Strategy can therefore never take its hand from
the work for a moment.

That this, however, has not always been the view taken is evident from
the former custom of keeping Strategy in the cabinet and not with the
Army, a thing only allowable if the cabinet is so near to the Army that
it can be taken for the chief head-quarters of the Army.

Theory will therefore attend on Strategy in the determination of its
plans, or, as we may more properly say, it will throw a light on things
in themselves, and on their relations to each other, and bring out
prominently the little that there is of principle or rule.

If we recall to mind from the first chapter how many things of
the highest importance War touches upon, we may conceive that a
consideration of all requires a rare grasp of mind.

A Prince or General who knows exactly how to organise his War according
to his object and means, who does neither too little nor too much, gives
by that the greatest proof of his genius. But the effects of this talent
are exhibited not so much by the invention of new modes of action, which
might strike the eye immediately, as in the successful final result of
the whole. It is the exact fulfilment of silent suppositions, it is the
noiseless harmony of the whole action which we should admire, and which
only makes itself known in the total result. Inquirer who, tracing back
from the final result, does not perceive the signs of that harmony is
one who is apt to seek for genius where it is not, and where it cannot
be found.

The means and forms which Strat