the point here, for that increase of force could not be necessary if the force had been so much larger at the first.  But it would be contrary to all experience to suppose that an Army coming fresh into the field is to be esteemed higher in point of moral value than an Army already in the field, just as a tactical reserve is more to be esteemed than a body of troops which has been already severely handled in the fight.  Just as much as an unfortunate campaign lowers the courage and moral powers of an Army, a successful one raises these elements in their value.  In the generality of cases, therefore, these influences are compensated, and then there remains over and above as clear gain the habituation to War.  We should besides look more here to successful than to unsuccessful campaigns, because when the greater probability of the latter may be seen beforehand, without doubt forces are wanted, and, therefore, the reserving a portion for future use is out of the question.

This point being settled, then the question is, Do the losses which a force sustains through fatigues and privations increase in proportion to the size of the force, as is the case in a combat?  And to that we answer “No.”

The fatigues of War result in a great measure from the dangers with which every moment of the act of War is more or less impregnated.  To encounter these dangers at all points, to proceed onwards with security in the execution of one’s plans, gives employment to a multitude of agencies which make up the tactical and strategic service of the Army.  This service is more difficult the weaker an Army is, and easier as its numerical superiority over that of the enemy increases.  Who can doubt this?  A campaign against a much weaker enemy will therefore cost smaller efforts than against one just as strong or stronger.

So much for the fatigues.  It is somewhat different with the privations; they consist chiefly of two things, the want of food, and the want of shelter for the troops, either in quarters or in suitable camps.  Both these wants will no doubt be greater in proportion as the number of men on one spot is greater.  But does not the superiority in force afford also the best means of spreading out and finding more room, and therefore more means of subsistence and shelter?

If Buonaparte, in his invasion of Russia in 1812, concentrated his Army in great masses upon one single road in a manner never heard of before, and thus caused privations equally unparalleled, we must ascribe it to his maxim that it is impossible to be too strong at the decisive point.  Whether in this instance he did not strain the principle too far is a question which would be out of place here; but it is certain that, if he had made a point of avoiding the distress which was by that means brought about, he had only to advance on a greater breadth of front.  Room was not wanted for the purpose in Russia, and in very