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For five hundred centuries, two thousand generations have struggled for that terrain in a calendar of wars whose beginning is as obscure as its end. Even the sophisticated mind, made blasé by habituation to magnitude and marvel, is applied by the panorama of historic war, from the occasional brawl and annals of Egypt, Summer, Babylonia, and Assyria. The untiring fratricide of the Greek city-states, the conquest of Alexander and Caesar, the triumph of Imperial Rome, the wars of expanding Islam, the slaughter of Mongol hoards, Tamerlane’s pyramid of skulls, the Hundred Years War, the Wars of the Roses, the Thirty Years’ War, the War of the Spanish Succession, the Seven Years’ war, the English, American, French and Russian Revolutions, the Napoleonic Wars, the Civil War, the Franco-Prussian War, the Spanish-American War, the Russo-Japanese War, the First World War, the Second World War. . . . This , to our pessimistic moments, seems to be the main and bloody current of history, beside which all the achievements of civilization, all the illumination of literature and art, all the tenderness of women and the chivalry of men, are but graceful incidents on the bank, helpless to change the course or character of the stream. ` Page 91
. . . a chronicle of conflict exaggerates, without doubt, the role of war in the record of our race. Strife is dramatic, and (to most of our historians) peaceful generations appear to have no history. So our chronicles leap from battle to battle, and unwittingly deform the past into a shambles. In our saner moments we know that it is not so; that lucid intervals of peace far outweigh, in any nation’s story, and mad seizures of war; that the history of civilization -- of law and morals, science and invention, religion and philosophy, letters and the arts -- runs like hidden gold in the river of time. ~ Page 91
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