It is the combination of these by no means original or very distinct ideas
that we are told has brought about so entire a change in the conduct of war
that it has become altogether a different thing. It is unnecessary for our
purpose to consider how far the facts seem to support such a conclusion,
for in the inherent nature of things it must be radically unsound. Neither
war nor anything else can change in its essentials. If it appears to do so,
it is because we are still mistaking accidents for essentials, and this is
exactly how it struck the acutest thinkers of Napoleonic times.

For a while it is true they were bewildered, but so soon as they had had
time to clear their heads from the din of the struggle in which they had
taken part, they began to see that the new phenomena were but accidents
after all. They perceived that Napoleon's methods, which had taken the
world by storm, had met with success in wars of a certain nature only, and
that when he tried to extend those methods to other natures of war he had
met with failure and even disaster. How was this to be explained? What
theory, for instance, would cover Napoleon's successes in Germany and
Italy, as well as his failures in Spain and Russia? If the whole conception
of war had changed, how could you account for the success of England, who
had not changed her methods? To us the answer to these questions is of
living and infinite importance. Our standpoint remains still unchanged. Is
there anything inherent in the conception of war that justifies that
attitude in our case? Are we entitled to expect from it again the same
success it met with in the past?

The first man to enunciate a theory which would explain the phenomena of
the Napoleonic era and co-ordinate them with previous history was General
Carl von Clausewitz, a man whose arduous service on the Staff and the
actual work of higher instruction had taught the necessity of systematising