For what can war, but endless war, still breed?

"For what can war, but endless war, still breed?" These somber words, spoken by the mighty poet John Milton, strike like a thunderbolt in the hearts of those who dare to look upon the true nature of conflict. They are not mere words; they are a prophetic warning, a cry for reflection that echoes across the annals of history. Milton, the blind seer, whose vision of the world burned with the fire of knowledge and truth, understood as few did the terrible consequences of war. In this question, he asks us to peer into the abyss, to see that war, once unleashed, is a beast that feeds upon itself, growing ever more voracious, spreading ever wider, until it consumes all that lies before it.

Let us think deeply upon this question: What can war breed? Milton’s words are not rhetorical—they are a challenge. He tells us that war, far from bringing an end to strife or achieving the noble ends it promises, only breeds more war. This is the nature of conflict—it is not a solution, but a perpetuation of destruction. Every battle fought in anger and bitterness spawns new resentments, new reasons to fight, new cycles of violence and hatred. In this endless dance of death, there is no final victory, no true peace, but only the perpetuation of conflict itself. Those who wage war, Milton suggests, become trapped in a cycle from which there is no escape, their thirst for blood unquenchable, their enemies forever multiplying.

In the history of mankind, we need not look far to see this truth play out. Consider the Hundred Years' War, a conflict that stretched over a century and consumed generations of men and nations. What was gained in all that time? Kingdoms rose and fell, but the cycle of violence continued, and the cost of this endless war was paid not in land, but in the lives of countless men and women. The war begat more hatred, more violence, and in the end, no resolution. The consequences of war, once begun, are never easily contained. The peace that is so often promised in the aftermath of conflict remains a fleeting illusion, as new grievances and new causes for war take root in the fertile soil left behind by the last battle.

Milton, in his wisdom, knew that war does not simply end when the final blow is struck. No, it breeds more war—just as a stone cast into a lake creates ripples that stretch far beyond its point of impact. These ripples, though invisible at first, gather strength and momentum, until the lake is disturbed once more. The American Civil War serves as a sobering reminder of this cycle. The brutal conflict, though it tore the nation asunder, did not bring lasting peace. Instead, it laid the foundation for another century of racial strife, inequality, and division. War, once it takes root, does not simply vanish—it lingers, festers, and spreads, like a poison coursing through the veins of the land.

Now, consider the implications of Milton’s question for our own lives. The world in which we live today is still haunted by the specter of war. Nations rise against each other, empires clash, and the cries of the innocent echo through history. But the truth of Milton’s words remains as relevant today as it was in his time: war breeds war. It is a law of nature, a cosmic truth that applies not only to nations but to individuals as well. When we fight—whether with weapons or words—we sow the seeds of future conflict. Every act of vengeance, every unresolved grievance, is a spark that can ignite a fire. To wage war is to enter into a cycle from which there is no escape, for the cycle of hatred will always find new ways to feed itself.

The lesson here, then, is one of immense wisdom and profound self-reflection. If war breeds only more war, what are we to do? The answer lies in the act of forgiveness, in the pursuit of peace, and in the resolution to seek dialogue rather than destruction. Milton’s words compel us not to glorify war or to seek justice through violence, but to recognize that peace is the only true solution. It is through understanding, compromise, and the willingness to break the chains of resentment that we can break the cycle of violence. Just as the seeds of war are sown through small acts of hatred, so too can the seeds of peace be sown through small acts of kindness and mercy.

Thus, the practical action we must take in our lives is clear: choose peace over conflict, understanding over judgment, and forgiveness over retaliation. In our personal lives, we must resist the urge to strike back when wronged, to escalate the small skirmishes of daily life into full-scale battles. In the larger world, we must support those who seek diplomacy over warfare, dialogue over division. We must understand that every action, every word, has the potential to either perpetuate the endless war or to bring us closer to true peace. Let us learn from the wisdom of John Milton, who saw through the fog of violence and asked the hard question: What can war breed, but endless war? May we, in our hearts, seek the end of this cycle and the birth of a new world, one not of endless conflict, but of lasting peace.