Which course he adopts depends on how far his character has been moralized-that is, on his fighting spirit, which, in its turn, depends on the conditions which surround him. These conditions must be such that, though his nerves may be assailed, his confidence in the possibility of his task is not shaken.

Which course he adopts depends on how far his character has been moralized-that is, on his fighting spirit, which, in its turn, depends on the conditions which surround him. These conditions must be such that, though his nerves may be assailed, his confidence in the possibility of his task is not shaken.
This confidence depends on certain factors:
i. Limitations to the task set.
ii. Ability to carry it out.
iii. Encouragement while so doing.
iv. Protection during the accomplishment.
v. Immunity from danger once the task is completed.
Danger, so far as it affects each individual, must be reduced to a minimum. As this is always difficult, the greater the danger the less must a man doubt his abilitv to overcome it. Though in war it matters much what an individual can do, it matters far more what he thinks he can do ; consequently the art of command does not only consist in the power of enforcing obedience, but in stimulating the imagination. Frequently it happens that the soldier who believes that all is right when all is wrong is morally stronger than he who believes that all is wrong, even if his beliefs be justified.
This power of belief does not only depend on the soldier’s training, or on the perfection of the organization to which he belongs, but on the loss of the sense of danger. Morally, this is accomplished by reducing his feeling of isolation and increasing his sense of security ; physically, by reducing resistance through increasing the power of his weapons.
A saying we frequently hear repeated is that moral is to the physical as three to one, and in our turn we often repeat it quite meaninglessly. In some minds this saying of Napoleon’s conveys the idea of a feud between the moral and physical means of waging war, so that two schools of thought arise-the moral and the matériel schools. The first asserts that moral is more important than weapons, and the second that perfection of matériel is the most potent factor in war.
In my opinion, both schools of thought are wrong, because they base their ideas on a division between the moral and physical spheres of war. No such division exists, any more than it does in man himself. The heart is not superior to the body, or the body to the heart. Together these two form an integration which cannot be separated, and, as the body gives expression to the will, and, through the muscles, protects the brain, so do the physical means of war give expression to the moral, and protect moral itself.Consequently if Napoleon’s dictum be true, and the moral is three times as potent as the physical, then logically we should not leave a stone unturned to obtain all possible superiority of physical means so that our moral is given the very fullest security.In the past, so I hold, we have thought far too much on the lines of guts versus guns, and when I come to discuss the physical sphere of war I will show that this conception is a fallacious one, and that there is no versus in the question.I will now return to the subject of this chapter.
An unlimited objective requires unlimited endurance ;this is impossible ; consequently the task to be accomplished must be within the mental and physical limitations of man. These powers do not only depend on preparation and training before battle, but on support and protection during it. Thus men will continue to advance if they know that they are being followed. Their self-deception urges them to believe that the moving masses behind them are immediately protecting them.
This, of course, is not so, for their protection is probably being provided for by invisible guns in rear. The support here is purely moral ; it stimulates the nerves of the attackers by reducing their feeling of isolation, just as the bursting shells in front of them, by reducing the enemy’s resistance, are physically enabling them to move forward.
The instinct of self-distinction urges men on, for public applause is the greatest of all trinkets, and it would be a shameful thing to lag behind whilst countless eyes are following the advance. Further, it would be a dangerous action, for behind them stands the inexorable law of the soldier which requires certain death for uncertain courage.
Ultimately the instinct of self-preservation, which has filled their hearts with an almost uncontrollable fear of individual danger, explodes into the frenzy of revenge, once the distance between them and danger is so reduced that to fall back would be to commit suicide. Collectively men “ see red “ ; their reason vanishes, their self-deception disappears, self-distinction is forgotten, their whole being crystallizes in one word-killor truer, perhaps, in one word-murder, for the bayonet knows no pity.
If complexities arise in the physical struggle of battle, how much more so is this the case when we enter the psychological struggle of will against will, of nerve against nerve, of impulse, of sentiment, and of instinct.Round this struggle, between the souls of men, gyrate success and failure ;for, whatever his weapons, his means of movement, and methods of protection may be, ultimately we come back to man-the frail, fearful, yet cunning creature whose supreme aim is life, whether in the peaceful field of trade or among the death-groans of the battlefield.