Original causes
In the attempt to form an accurate estimate of the moral character of human actions and opinions, it is often of importance to inquire how they have been produced.
There is always great reason to doubt the rectitude of that of which the causes and motives are impure;
and if, therefore, it should appear from the observations which follow, that some of the motives to war and of its causes are inconsistent with reason or with virtue,
I would invite the reader to pursue the inquiry that succeeds them, with suspicion, at least, of the rectitude of our ordinary opinions.
There are some customs which have obtained so generally and so long, that what was originally an effect becomes a cause and what was a cause becomes an effect,
until, by the reciprocal influence of each,
the custom is continued by circumstances so multiplied and involved that it is difficult to detect them in all their ramifications, or to determine those to which it is principally to be referred.
What were once the occasions of wars may be easily supposed:
Robbery, or the repulsion of robbers, was probably the only motive to hostility, until robbery became refined into ambition, so that it was sufficient to produce a war when a chief was not content with the territory of his fathers.
But by the gradually increasing complication of society from age to age, and by the multiplication of remote interests and obscure rights,
the motives to war have become so numerous and so technical that ordinary observation often fails to perceive what they are.
They are sometimes known only to a cabinet, which is influenced in its decision by reasoning of which a nation knows little, or by feelings of which it knows nothing;
so that of those who personally engage in hostilities there is, perhaps, not often one in ten who can distinctly tell why he is fighting.
This refinement in the motives of war is no trifling evidence that they are insufficient or bad.
When it is considered how tremendous a battle is, how many it hurries in a moment from the world, how much wretchedness and how much guilt it produces, it would surely appear that nothing but obvious necessity should induce us to resort to it.
But when, instead of a battle, we have a war with many battles, and of course with multiplied suffering and accumulated guilt,
the motives to so dreadful a measure ought to be such as to force themselves upon involuntary observation, and to be written, as it were, in the skies.
If, then, a large proportion of a people are often without any distinct perception of the reasons why they are slaughtering mankind, it implies, I think, prima facie evidence against the adequacy or the justice of the motives to slaughter.