Chapter 12.—That Even the
Fierceness of War and All the Disquietude of Men Make Towards This
One End of Peace, Which Every Nature Desires.
Whoever gives even moderate
attention to human affairs and to our common nature, will recognize
that if there is no man who does not wish to be joyful, neither is
there any one who does not wish to have peace. For even they who
make war desire nothing but victory,—desire, that is to say, to
attain to peace with glory. For what else is victory than the
conquest of those who resist us? and when this is done there is
peace. It is therefore with the desire for peace that wars are
waged, even by those who take pleasure in exercising their warlike
nature in command and battle. And hence it is obvious that peace
is the end sought for by war. For every man seeks peace by waging
war, but no man seeks war by making peace. For even they who
intentionally interrupt the peace in which they are living have no
hatred of peace, but only wish it changed into a peace that suits
them better. They do not, therefore, wish to have no peace, but
only one more to their mind. And in the case of sedition, when
men have separated themselves from the community, they yet do not
effect what they wish, unless they maintain some kind of peace with
their fellow-conspirators. And therefore even robbers take care
to maintain peace with their comrades, that they may with greater
effect and greater safety invade the peace of other men. And if
an individual happen to be of such unrivalled strength, and to be
so jealous of partnership, that he trusts himself with no comrades, but makes his own plots, and commits depredations and murders on his own account, yet he maintains some shadow of peace with such persons as he is unable to kill, and from whom he wishes to conceal his deeds. In his own home, too, he makes it his aim to be at peace with his wife and children, and any other members of his household; for unquestionably their prompt obedience to his every look is a source of pleasure to him. And if this be not rendered, he is angry, he chides and punishes; and even by this storm he secures the calm peace of his own home, as occasion demands. For he sees that peace cannot be maintained unless all the members of the same domestic circle be subject to one head, such as he himself is in his own house. And therefore if a city or nation offered to submit itself to him, to serve him in the same style as he had made his household serve him, he would no longer lurk in a brigand’s hiding-places, but lift his head in open day as a king, though the same coveteousness and wicked
ness should remain in him. And thus all men desire to have peace with their own circle whom they wish to govern as suits themselves. For even those whom they make war against they wish to make their own, and impose on them the laws of their own peace.