generalship on the judgment of individuals. The law of storms and tides, of
winds and currents, and the whole of meteorology are subject to infinite
and incalculable deflections, and yet who will deny nowadays that by the
theoretical study of such things the seaman's art has gained in coherence
and strength? Such study will not by itself make a seaman or a navigator,
but without it no seaman or navigator can nowadays pretend to the name.
Because storms do not always behave in the same way, because currents are
erratic, will the most practical seaman deny that the study of the normal
conditions are useless to him in his practical decisions?

If, then, the theoretical study of strategy be approached in this way--if,
that is, it be regarded not as a substitute for judgment and experience,
but as a means of fertilising both, it can do no man harm. Individual
thought and common-sense will remain the masters and remain the guides to
point the general direction when the mass of facts begins to grow
bewildering. Theory will warn us the moment we begin to leave the beaten
track, and enable us to decide with open eyes whether the divergence is
necessary or justifiable. Above all, when men assemble in Council it will
hold discussion to the essential lines, and help to keep side issues in
their place.

But beyond all this there lies in the theory of war yet another element of
peculiar value to a maritime Empire. We are accustomed, partly for
convenience and partly from lack of a scientific habit of thought, to speak
of naval strategy and military strategy as though they were distinct
branches of knowledge which had no common ground. It is the theory of war
which brings out their intimate relation. It reveals that embracing them
both is a larger strategy which regards the fleet and army as one weapon,
which co-ordinates their action, and indicates the lines on which each must
move to realise the full power of both. It will direct us to assign to each