Although our intellect always feels itself urged towards clearness and certainty, still our mind often feels itself attracted by uncertainty.  Instead of threading its way with the understanding along the narrow path of philosophical investigations and logical conclusions, in order, almost unconscious of itself, to arrive in spaces where it feels itself a stranger, and where it seems to part from all well-known objects, it prefers to remain with the imagination in the realms of chance and luck.  Instead of living yonder on poor necessity, it revels here in the wealth of possibilities; animated thereby, courage then takes wings to itself, and daring and danger make the element into which it launches itself as a fearless swimmer plunges into the stream.

Shall theory leave it here, and move on, self-satisfied with absolute conclusions and rules?  Then it is of no practical use.  Theory must also take into account the human element; it must accord a place to courage, to boldness, even to rashness.  The Art of War has to deal with living and with moral forces, the consequence of which is that it can never attain the absolute and positive.  There is therefore everywhere a margin for the accidental, and just as much in the greatest things as in the smallest.  As there is room for this accidental on the one hand, so on the other there must be courage and self-reliance in proportion to the room available.  If these qualities are forthcoming in a high degree, the margin left may likewise be great.  Courage and self-reliance are, therefore, principles quite essential to War; consequently, theory must only set up such rules as allow ample scope for all degrees and varieties of these necessary and noblest of military virtues.  In daring there may still be wisdom, and prudence as well, only they are estimated by a different standard of value.

23.  War is always A serious means for A serious object.  Its more particular definition.

Such is War; such the Commander who conducts it; such the theory which rules it.  But War is no pastime; no mere passion for venturing and winning; no work of a free enthusiasm:  it is a serious means for a serious object.  All that appearance which it wears from the varying hues of fortune, all that it assimilates into itself of the oscillations of passion, of courage, of imagination, of enthusiasm, are only particular properties of this means.

The War of a community—­of whole Nations, and particularly of civilised Nations—­always starts from a political condition, and is called forth by a political motive.  It is, therefore, a political act.  Now if it was a perfect, unrestrained, and absolute expression of force, as we had to deduct it from its mere conception, then the moment it is called forth by policy it would step into the place of policy, and as something quite independent of it would set it aside, and only follow its own laws, just