Another example and consequence of national hatred among the ancients. In the very earliest times, when the world was not so populated, so that it was not so easy to change [1079] where you lived, conquered nations would lose not only liberty, property, etc., but also the very soil they trod. And if they were not carried off as slaves, either every last one of them or that part that survived war, the ensuing massacre, and slavery, went off into exile. And that as much of their own free will, since they could not bear to obey the victor, and preferred to go without anything, and renounce even the tiniest item of property they had owned in the past, rather than depend on the foreigner. But partly also through compulsion, for the victor occupied the fields and the conquered lands, not just by means of government and laws, not just by owning the fields or taxes, etc., but in the fullest and most complete way by going to live there, by establishing colonies, etc., in short, by altering the name and nature of the conquered lands, by uprooting the conquered nation, in fact, and transplanting a part of the conquering nation there. That is what happened to Phrygia, to Aeneas, etc., or if we do not want to believe what is told of them, this demonstrates nonetheless what was the custom of those times. (23 May 1821.)
For p. 366. In a machine that is very vast and composed of countless different parts, no matter how well and carefully crafted and assembled, breakdowns are bound to happen, especially over a long period of time, breakdowns [1080] that cannot be ascribed to the maker or the making and which the maker could not either clearly foresee or prevent. See p. 1087, end. Belonging to this kind of breakdown are those we call accidental difficulties in the huge and very complicated system of nature, and over the long span of its duration. For although they do not always seem to us to be small, we have to think of them in relation to this immensity and complexity and great duration of time.
In order, on the one hand, to excuse nature and, on the other, to ascertain if such difficulties are really accidental and contrary to the system and do not derive from it, one simply has to see if they are at odds with the way of proceeding that nature had prescribed and originally laid down for things, and if it has set all suitable obstacles against them which, as in the best conceived and fashioned machine, may often prove to be insufficient. When, therefore, we find in man’s unhappiness something directly at odds with the original system and discover that nature had set a countless number of carefully calculated obstacles against it, and that we have had to apply the utmost force to nature, to the original, etc., order, and have required a very long series of centuries to reach this unhappiness, then this unhappiness, great and universal and enduring and even irremediable though it may be, cannot be regarded as [1081] inherent in the system, nor as natural. Nor should we wrack our brains to bring it into harmony with the system of things (which is impossible), nor should we imagine a system transcending these difficulties, a system founded on accidents, a system which has as its foundation and form the alterations accidentally done to us, a system designed to consider some things that are accidental and contrary to the primordial order as necessary and original. Rather, we must formally recognize the opposition between our unhappiness and the system of nature, and the difference there is between it and its effects and the effects of its alteration and partial and accidental degradation.
Setting aside the fact that many difficulties that are so for some beings but not for others, and many which are so for some in one respect but not for the same beings in another respect, etc. etc.
By thus demonstrating the very diverse and most formidable obstacles that nature puts up against our present state, I am able to demonstrate that the latter (and the unhappiness of man which derives from it) is accidental, and independent of the system of nature, and contrary to the order of things, and not essential, etc. (23 May 1821.) See p. 1082.
[1082] If it were really useful or necessary for man’s happiness and perfection to be freed from natural prejudices (I mean natural, not the offspring of corrupt ignorance), why on earth should nature root them so deeply in man’s mind, put up so many obstacles to their eradication, make it take so many centuries for them to be eradicated or simply weakened, and impossible for them all to be eradicated, even in educated people and those who know them best, and finally arrange things in such a way that still today among a large part, indeed the majority, of even very highly cultured peoples (leaving aside the uncultured), a substantial part of these prejudices which are thought to be directly contrary to man’s well-being and perfection endure? Indeed, why on earth should it have put them in men’s minds in the first place? (24 May 1821.)
For p. 1081, end. Conversely, by demonstrating how illusions, etc. etc. etc., have been directly fostered by nature, how they follow on from the order of things, etc. etc., I am able to demonstrate that they essentially belong to the natural system and to the order of things, and are crucial and necessary to the happiness and perfection of man. (24 May 1821.)
[1083] It is in part due to the value placed upon the grace deriving from the out of the ordinary that we see that one of the most frequent and reliable means of pleasing women is to treat them with contempt and to mock them, etc. Which also comes from a sort of contrast, etc., which creates piquancy.1 And likewise from self-love set in motion and made to desire the love and esteem of someone who despises you because it seems to you more difficult and you therefore covet it all the more, etc. And this is what also happens to men faced with women who are either coy or mocking, etc. (24 May 1821.)
On account of the ancient system of national hatred, virtuous behavior toward the enemy did not exist, especially not in the very earliest times, and cruelty toward the defeated enemy, abuse of victory, etc., were virtues, that is, forthright expressions of patriotic love. Hence it may be seen how profound and knowledgeable about human history are those philosophers who reproach Homer with having made his Heroes too merciless and implacable toward the defeated enemy. He made them out to be utterly great and virtuous in terms of the times when the enemy of the nation was what the Devil, sin, etc. etc., are to Christians today. Nonetheless, Homer, whose great genius and sublime and poetic soul, even in the very early times in which he lived, caused him to conceive of the beauty of mercy toward the enemy, of generosity toward the defeated, etc., considered this beauty to be the child of his imagination and did things in such a way that it was with the greatest of difficulty that Achilles managed to show mercy to the supplicant Priam in his tent, and to the body of Hector. A difficulty that to us seems absurd. (And so incidentally you infer the authenticity [1084] of that much disputed Episode, etc.) But to him, and to his times, it seemed noble, natural, and necessary. And note in this regard the difference between Homer and Virgil.1 (24 May 1821.)
For p. 1078. Relate to this rebirth of civilization (which is anyway ephemeral and weak and false) the alleviation of despotism and the more wide-spread intolerance displayed toward it, the perfection dating from the revolution of what is termed the sentimental genre, the rebirth of certain chivalric ideas which, as such, were subjected to utter ridicule in the 18th century, and in part of the 17th century (as in the novels of Marivaux, etc.), in respect of which Mariana, as is well known, blames Don Quixote (which is as much as to say the ridicule heaped upon strong and intense and sweet illusions) for the undermining of valor (and hence of national life and the appalling advances of despotism) among the Spanish. I said Mariana, and I think that’s who it is. I find the same thought, however, in Father D’Orléans, Rivoluzioni di Spagna, bk. 9. But I think Mariana is quoted in this regard by the Marquise de Lambert, Réflexions nouvelles sur les femmes.2 And likewise so many other opinions and social prejudices, which are nonetheless noble, charming, and appropriate, etc., which we wouldn’t dare ridicule now, as was the fashion in those times; rather more respect for the religion of our forebears, etc. etc. All things that demonstrate a degree of rapprochement of the world with nature and with natural opinions and feelings, and which show that we have stepped back a little, though listlessly, and for reaso
ns that are feeble, not impelled by life but deathly, that is, the progress of reason, philosophy, and knowledge. (24 May 1821.)
One of the obvious, everyday proofs that the beautiful is not absolute but relative is the fact that everyone acknowledges that beauty cannot be demonstrated [1085] to someone who does not see or feel it on his own account, and that in judging beauty it is not only times and nations that differ from one another; contemporaries and fellow citizens also, and even colleagues, often differ, and some judge to be beautiful what to others appears ugly, and vice versa. And since all agree that nobody can be persuaded in matters of beauty, they end up, in short, agreeing that neither of the two who have conflicting opinions can claim to be more in the right than the other, even when there are a hundred or a thousand on the one side, and just one on the other. All this applies both to things that pertain to the senses—and this whether they are natural or, more especially, artificial—and to literature, etc. etc. See in this regard Father Cesari, Discourse to the readers prefaced to the book De ratione regendae provinciae, letter of M. T. Cicero to his brother Quintum, with notes, an Italian translation by Jacopo Facciolati, and a new translation by Antonio Cesari. Or the Spettatore of Milan, number 75, p. 177, where the passage from the above discourse touching on my argument is reproduced.1 (25 May 1821.)
A number of philosophers have formed the habit [1086] of looking at the world, and the affairs of others, as if from on high, but very few have adopted that of really and constantly looking from on high at their own affairs. In which the summit of practice and ultimate fruit of wisdom may be said to reside. (25 May 1821.)
On the very difficult invention of a language that might nonetheless have some form sufficing for speech, and how it must have been almost entirely the work of chance, see the “Osservazioni,” etc., by Sulzer in the Scelta di opuscoli interessanti, Milan 1775, vol. 4, pp. 90–100.1 (25 May 1821.)
“Just as the grammatical perfection of a language depends on reason and genius” (the French language is perfect as regards reason but not as regards genius), “so, too, may it serve as a scale for measuring the level of reason and genius in various peoples.” (Using this scale, French genius will be found to be as meager and pitched at as low a level as the reason of that people will be high.) “If, for example, we had no other documents attesting to the happy genius of the Greeks, their language would indeed suffice.” (We can say the same of the Italians, bearing in mind how modern times, which [1087] are not conducive to genius, measure up to ancient times.) “When a language, generally speaking,” (that is, not one or more sentences, or some refinement or other, but all of them taken en masse) “is not up to the task of rendering in translation the refinements of another language, it is proof positive that the people for whom one is translating have a less cultured mind than does the other.”1 (What shall we then say of the mind of Frenchmen where genius is concerned? Whose language is not up to the task of rendering the refinements not just of one, but of all other languages? I, for my part, have no doubts—and Raynal is compelled implicitly to admit as much—that France has never had, see p. 1091, nor is it predisposed by its own nature to have, genuine, all-powerful geniuses, who tower above the rest of men.2 I refer here to fully developed geniuses, since some may certainly arise in France, too, but certainly not develop because of the social circumstances of that nation.) Sulzer, etc., loc. cit. above, p. 97.
For p. 1080, margin. We shall say the same of constitutions, regulations, legislations, governments, statutes (whether public or particular to some organization or company, etc.), which, no matter how well and meticulously fashioned they may be, and by the most expert and farsighted men, too, can never in practice avoid being subject to a greater or lesser number of difficulties. [1088] It is not possible for these legislations, etc., not to encounter circumstances which were not foreseen or allowed for, or could not have been foreseen or allowed for, and, even supposing that everything was foreseen and allowed for as much as possible, practice does not correspond perfectly to the intention, spirit, and the actual disposition of such statutes. In short, there is in the world no order, dispensation, or system so perfect that in practice many difficulties and irregularities, that is, clashes with that order, do not occur. And one of the simplest and most common and at the same time principal errors is to believe that, given the way things work, they are supposed to work in this way, and so are ordained to work in this way, and to deduce the whole idea of such and such an order or system from what is involved and appears in its use, development, implementation, etc. In which there are bound to be very many accidents and difficulties that are not therefore imputable to the system. Accidents and difficulties that are far greater and more serious and substantial and more numerous in those systems, orders, machines, etc., which are the work of man (no matter how very fine it may be), a maker so very inferior to nature both in skill and power. Greater, however, and more numerous, all else being equal, that is, in relation to the smallness and unimportance, [1089] duration, etc., of human systems, when compared to the vastness, etc., of the system of nature. In which, absolutely speaking, much greater and more numerous accidental improprieties may and do occur than in any human system, even if they are much less great and less numerous relatively speaking. (26 May 1821.)
To what I have said elsewhere [→Z 945–49] about the reasonableness, indeed the necessity of a system for anyone who thinks and reflects on things, one may add that in fact things do indeed have a system and are ordered in terms of a system, a design, a plan. Whether one supposes all of nature to be ordered in terms of a system that is wholly connected and harmonious and interlinked in each of its parts, or divided into so many individual systems, each independent from the other, yet thoroughly harmonious, connected, and interlinked within their respective parts, it is certainly the case that the idea of a system, that is, of harmony, propriety, correspondence in connections and relationships is a real idea, and has its foundation and its subject in substance and in what exists. So it is that those who speculate about nature and about things, if they wish to arrive at the truth must find systems, since things and nature are in fact systematized and harmoniously ordered. They may well err in taking an imaginary or even an arbitrary system to be a real and natural system, [1090] but they do not err in searching for a system. Such and such a system may be false but not the idea that it contains, that is, the fact that nature and things are regulated and laid out in a system. Someone who outlaws the idea of system is opposed to the evidence there is of the mode of existence of things. Anyone who despairs of finding the true system, or systems, of nature and is therefore content to consider things separately (if indeed there is any thinker who I do not say limits himself but who could be limited in this fashion) would be excusable, and even praiseworthy. But apart from the fact that, when he has posited despair of ever knowing the true system as his ground, he has posited as his ground despair of knowing the summa of nature and the most important of things, one should ponder the following thought, which will bring out another utterly crucial disadvantage of giving up the search for the natural and true system of things. (26 May 1821.)
Neither the reasons nor all the reasons behind any truth are ever perfectly known, indeed, no truth is ever perfectly known, unless all the relations that that truth has with other truths are perfectly known. And just as all truths and all existing things are linked to one another much more closely and intimately and essentially than the general run of philosophers themselves believe or are able to believe [1091] and conceive, so too we may say that no truth, no matter how small, isolated, and particular it may seem, can be perfectly known unless all its relations with all subsisting truths are perfectly known. Which is tantamount to saying that no truth (though it be minimal, though it be utterly obvious, clear, and simple) has ever been or ever will be understood perfectly, wholly, and in every regard. (26 May 1821.)
Thus, without the precondition mentioned above, neither all the premises that result in a consequence, that is, i
n the knowing of such and such a truth, nor the whole of the relation and connection nor all of the relations and connections that the premises (even where known) have with that consequence are ever known. (26 May 1821.)
For p. 1087. Except for a very few, such as Descartes, Pascal, etc., and the like, none of whom strictly belongs to the sphere of genius but rather to those things that destroy it, that is, to science and truth, which is all the more inimical to genius the deeper and more hidden it is, even though it is not dug out nor discovered other than by genius. (26 May 1821.)
[1092] For p. 894, margin. And to the same origins relate the damage, the killings, the poverty, the powerlessness, e.g., of Italy in the middle ages, that Italy which was at the same time inspired by so intense, so active, and often so heroic a love of the homeland.1 But a homeland that was small and weak and obscure, namely, the miniature republics and cities and regions into which the nation was then divided, themselves forming so many nations, and all, as is only natural, hostile to one another. From this arose the smallness and weakness and obscurity of patriotic virtues and the limited splendor of such heroism as did exist. To those same origins, that is, overwhelming division and smallness, and the resulting proliferation of enmities, relate the infamous damage and extreme wickedness of the feudal system. Relate likewise to those same origins the damage that all wise men today recognize in the overwhelming love of private homelands, love, that is, of cities or even native provinces. Damage that is unfortunately both obvious and serious in Italy today, as a natural consequence of its being divided not only into states and territories (as is the case with every kingdom), but also politically. And it is evident that love of country (I mean love of the private homelands) prevails today in Italy all the more powerfully and deep-rootedly, the greater is the ignorance or lack of commerce or smallness of each city or region or province (such as Tuscany), in short, in proportion to [1093] the relative level of civilization and culture. And in some of the smallest cities of Italy love of country and the hatred of outsiders is truly implacable. And so too, proportionately, in Tuscany, a land that for some reason has unfortunately been left behind culturally.1 And the same is true of more ignorant individuals, etc. (26 May 1821.)
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