We see then that there are many ways to one’s object in War; that the complete subjugation of the enemy is not essential in every case; that the destruction of the enemy’s military force, the conquest of the enemy’s provinces, the mere occupation of them, the mere invasion of them—­enterprises which are aimed directly at political objects—­lastly, a passive expectation of the enemy’s blow, are all means which, each in itself, may be used to force the enemy’s will according as the peculiar circumstances of the case lead us to expect more from the one or the other.  We could still add to these a whole category of shorter methods of gaining the end, which might be called arguments ad hominem.  What branch of human affairs is there in which these sparks of individual spirit have not made their appearance, surmounting all formal considerations?  And least of all can they fail to appear in War, where the personal character of the combatants plays such an important part, both in the cabinet and in the field.  We limit ourselves to pointing this out, as it would be pedantry to attempt to reduce such influences into classes.  Including these, we may say that the number of possible ways of reaching the object rises to infinity.

To avoid under-estimating these different short roads to one’s purpose, either estimating them only as rare exceptions, or holding the difference which they cause in the conduct of War as insignificant, we must bear in mind the diversity of political objects which may cause a War—­measure at a glance the distance which there is between a death struggle for political existence and a War which a forced or tottering alliance makes a matter of disagreeable duty.  Between the two innumerable gradations occur in practice.  If we reject one of these gradations in theory, we might with equal right reject the whole, which would be tantamount to shutting the real world completely out of sight.

These are the circumstances in general connected with the aim which we have to pursue in War; let us now turn to the means.

There is only one single means, it is the fight.  However diversified this may be in form, however widely it may differ from a rough vent of hatred and animosity in a hand-to-hand encounter, whatever number of things may introduce themselves which are not actual fighting, still it is always implied in the conception of War that all the effects manifested have their roots in the combat.

That this must always be so in the greatest diversity and complication of the reality is proved in a very simple manner.  All that takes place in War takes place through armed forces, but where the forces of War, i.e., armed men, are applied, there the idea of fighting must of necessity be at the foundation.

All, therefore, that relates to forces of War—­all that is connected with their creation, maintenance, and application—­belongs to military activity.

Creation and maintenance are obviously only the means, whilst application is the object.