in, and stops, hesitating with himself, when
he should rush forward; or in despondency he lets his arm drop, leaving
everything to fate.

The consequence which this effect of victory brings forth in the course
of the War itself depend in part on the character and talent of the
victorious General, but more on the circumstances from which the victory
proceeds, and to which it leads. Without boldness and an enterprising
spirit on the part of the leader, the most brilliant victory will lead
to no great success, and its force exhausts itself all the sooner on
circumstances, if these offer a strong and stubborn opposition to it.
How very differently from Daun, Frederick the Great would have used the
victory at Kollin; and what different consequences France, in place of
Prussia, might have given a battle of Leuthen!

The conditions which allow us to expect great results from a great
victory we shall learn when we come to the subjects with which they are
connected; then it will be possible to explain the disproportion which
appears at first sight between the magnitude of a victory and its
results, and which is only too readily attributed to a want of energy
on the part of the conqueror. Here, where we have to do with the great
battle in itself, we shall merely say that the effects now depicted
never fail to attend a victory, that they mount up with the intensive
strength of the victory--mount up more the more the whole strength of
the Army has been concentrated in it, the more the whole military power
of the Nation is contained in that Army, and the State in that military
power.

But then the question may be asked, Can theory accept this effect of
victory as absolutely necessary?--must it not rather endeavour to find
out counteracting means capable of neutralising these effects? It seems
quite natural to answer this question in the affirmative; but heaven
defend us from taking that wrong course of most theories, out of which
is begotten a mutually devouring Pro et Contra.

Certainly that effect is perfectly necessary, for it has its foundation
in the nature of things, and it exists, even if we find means to
struggle against it; just as the motion of a cannon ball is always in
the direction of the terrestrial, although when fired from east to west
part of the general velocity is destroyed by this opposite motion.

All War supposes human weakness, and against that it is directed.

Therefore, if hereafter in another place we