The part played by the second force is more obscure.  Few facts are so encouraging to the student of human development as the desire, which most men and all communities manifest at all times, to associate with their actions at least the appearance of moral right.  However distorted may be their conceptions of virtue, however feeble their efforts to attain even to their own ideals, it is a pleasing feature and a hopeful augury that they should wish to be justified.  No community embarks on a great enterprise without fortifying itself with the belief that from some points of view its motives are lofty and disinterested.  It is an involuntary tribute, the humble tribute of imperfect beings, to the eternal temples of Truth and Beauty.  The sufferings of a people or a class may be intolerable, but before they will take up arms and risk their lives some unselfish and impersonal spirit must animate them.  In countries where there is education and mental activity or refinement, this high motive is found in the pride of glorious traditions or in a keen sympathy with surrounding misery.  Ignorance deprives savage nations of such incentives.  Yet in the marvellous economy of nature this very ignorance is a source of greater strength.  It affords them the mighty stimulus of fanaticism.  The French Communists might plead that they upheld the rights of man.  The desert tribes proclaimed that they fought for the glory of God.  But although the force of fanatical passion is far greater than that exerted by any philosophical belief, its sanction is just the same.  It gives men something which they think is sublime to fight for, and this serves them as an excuse for wars which it is desirable to begin for totally different reasons.  Fanaticism is not a cause of war.  It is the means which helps savage peoples to fight.  It is the spirit which enables them to combine—­the great common object before which all personal or tribal disputes become insignificant.  What the horn is to the rhinoceros, what the sting is to the wasp, the Mohammedan faith was to the Arabs of the Soudan—­a faculty of offence or defence.

It was all this and no more.  It was not the reason of the revolt.  It strengthened, it characterised, but it did not cause. [’I do not believe that fanaticism exists as it used to do in the world, judging from what I have seen in this so-called fanatic land.  It is far more a question of property, and is more like Communism under the flag of religion.’—­General Gordon’s journals at Khartoum, bk.i. p.13.] Those whose practice it is to regard their own nation as possessing a monopoly of virtue and common-sense, are wont to ascribe every military enterprise of savage peoples to fanaticism.  They calmly ignore obvious and legitimate motives.  The most rational conduct is considered mad.  It has therefore been freely stated, and is to some extent believed, that the revolt in the Soudan was entirely religious.  If the worst untruths are those that have some appearance of veracity, this impression must be very false indeed.  It is, perhaps, an historical fact that the revolt of a large population has never been caused solely or even mainly by religious enthusiasm.