On many occasions in these thoughts of mine [→Z 1370–72, 1455–56, 1628–29, 1682–83, 1828–30, 2151–52, 2268–69, 2484–85, 2569–72], I have sought to show how man owes virtually everything to circumstance, habituation, and practice; how much of that which is referred to as natural talent, and diversity and superiority or inferiority of talent, is in fact no more than habituation, practice, and the work of circumstances which are not natural or necessary but accidental, of differences in habit and circumstance, of greater or lesser degrees of habituation, and of more or less propitious or unpropitious circumstances and secondary accidents, the diversity of which disproportionately magnifies the small differences and superiorities or inferiorities in ability found naturally and primitively in this or that intellect of this or that individual or nation, in this or that century. By this, however, I do not mean to deny that there is a natural difference between the various talents, abilities, and primitive characters of men. I merely affirm and demonstrate that such absolutely natural, innate, and primitive diversities are much [3198] more limited than other people ordinarily suppose. Mind you, no one has ever doubted, in any period of time, that the intellects, spirits, in short the minds of men differ naturally and primitively from one another, albeit with differences that are minute, but genuine and actual and significant differences nonetheless, and that their natural dispositions vary, in some cases more than others, some directed toward certain objectives, others toward others. All of this is well-founded and true, and is demonstrated by many observations which, or at least some of which, I shall identify hereunder by means of headings, in summary fashion, so that the subject may, indeed should, be developed more extensively under each heading than I do here.1
(1) There are notable differences between the external figure and form of man, when one century is compared with another, savage or corrupt or civilized nations with one other, civilized nations with civilized nations; the same also for savage or barbarous nations, one climate with another, one family with another, one individual with another. Differences which are regular or irregular, ordinary or extraordinary, natural or accidental, but nonetheless [3199] still physical, monstrosities,1 etc. The difference between languages reflects a genuine difference in the physical speech organs among the various speaking peoples, a difference which is caused either by climate or some other natural cause, but which is certainly independent of habituation given the essential, general, and consistent nature of such differences. In the various other external organs of man, many other notable natural differences are also found between man and man, climate and climate, nation and nation, individual and individual—differences of disposition, that is, disposition toward more or fewer abilities, or to certain abilities in particular rather than others, or greater or lesser disposition, greater or lesser physical agility, speed, and swiftness according to natural qualities of muscles and nerves which belong to any specific organ. If therefore the human exterior naturally differs significantly when one man is compared to another, it is quite reasonable to suppose that the natural form of the interior should also differ considerably among different men, the clear analogy and perfect correspondence [3200] between the exterior and the interior of men in every respect being beyond dispute. And with reference to the intellect in particular, the different exterior form of the head in different individuals and nations, which is visible and incontrovertible, clearly shows that what is contained in the head wherein the intellect resides also differs in form, whence it may be established that there is also a natural difference between men in terms of intellect. Indeed, it has perhaps been proved that a large forehead signifies a large and capacious natural intellect, while the opposite is true of a narrow forehead. Likewise, the other external differences of the head observed by craniologists,1 whose observations, even if not all true, do not, however, for this reason fail to prove that there is generally a natural difference in spirit and character between different men. And while they are often deceived in their judging such differences, this is because they take into consideration only the physical aspect, when sometimes habituation and circumstance can increase, wipe out or turn entirely into the opposite the differences noted in natural dispositions, and may make pronouncements on these alone, and not on their effects which are influenced by a great many other causes, [3201] and often prove to be contrary to the dispositions outlined. In this connection, see the episode of Zopyrus and Socrates referred to in Cicero, Tusculan disputations, bk. 4, ch. 37.1 Reference must also be made to differences of physiognomy, of the eyes, which are so expressive and demonstrate the mind and the intellect, and to the art of the physiognomists.
(2) General, regular, and consistent differences are found between the characters, talents, and spiritual dispositions of the various nations, in particular according to the differences in climate. There are those with extremely coarse minds, such as the Lapps;2 others with very sharp minds, such as the Orientals; others who are lazy or industrious; brave or timid; in some the imagination is strongest, in others the rational faculty, more so in some, less so in others; some prove, and always have proved, to be outstanding in one area, others in another, etc. etc., and all this constantly so. It cannot be denied that the principles and foundations of such differences are natural, hence it cannot be denied either that there is a true, primitive difference of character or intellect between nation and nation, climate and climate, just as there is a real, visible, natural and, generally speaking, constant difference in terms of external appearance, features, etc., between nations and climates, savage and civilized, etc. etc. Hence it should be said that, [3202] in proportion at least, between two individuals of the same or different nations there is also, from birth, a genuine difference in terms of character and talent, or rather a principle and disposition of difference which ad idem redit [comes to the same thing].
(3) Leaving to one side for a minute many of the things that could be said regarding physical influence, or rather the natural action of the body and senses, and hence of external objects, on the mind without taking into account habituation, we shall merely touch on a few examples here that are most pertinent in this case. I have heard of a man who was habitually foolish or exceptionally slow of thinking, and who fell from a great height and hit his head dangerously, as a result of which, once he had recovered, he became very sharp-witted and very clever, and is alive to this day. I have heard of many other intelligent men who have become stupid and dull through similar accidents. Without dwelling on these instances, it is indisputable that bodily illness (and hence also health) has an enormous impact on the intellect and character. Without going into minor influences, which may be observed every day, we may note what Caluso recounts in his “Letter” attached to Alfieri’s Life regarding the verses of Hesiod, which he had [3203] read just the once, but recited straight off during his final illness.1 And I was told too, by eyewitnesses, of the marvelous spirit, the clever comments and ripostes, the quite extraordinary speed of mind and tongue, the prodigious facility, fecundity, and quantity of inventions that were noted in an old Cardinal (Riganti)2 (not normally given to pleasantries, or great wit, whose character was anything other than energetic, swift, or mobile), shortly after having had a stroke and while bedridden (which infirmity then caused paralysis of his limbs, and as a result of which he died several months later). Example of Hermogenes and the like, which you can see in Cancellieri’s Dissertation on people who lose their memory, etc.3 A correspondence which may be observed, generally speaking, between the intellects and characters of man on the one hand and their respective constitutions on the other. Mad and frenetic; febrile, delirious. Illness can sometimes change, as is said, the intellect and character, either permanently or for short periods of time, or for more or less time; this is true in particular when it affects the brain. Which, although it may be altered significantly by illnesses and the various circumstances and accidents that occur during [3204] the life of one man, one cannot also help but believe and adjudge that just as the exten
sive and inexhaustible diversity of circumstances and accidents that combine in the generation of various individuals alters their physical constitutions, and this and that other part of their bodies, in the same way it alters the part where the intellect and mind reside, i.e., the brain, and hence also the talent, and native and primitive character of the various individuals, nations, etc.
(4) Man, even completely independent of habituation, that is, assuming equal amounts of study, exercise, science, practice, etc., differs from himself, so to speak, in terms of character and talent, not just in life, but even in the course of the same day. Today my mind might be most alert, my character most agreeable, whereas tomorrow it might be quite the opposite, without any moral or apparent reason, but certainly not without physical causes, which, in affecting the mind differently, effectively change it from one hour to the next, from one day to the next, from one season to the next (someone once said that they were better able to write in extreme heat or cold than in the medium temperatures of the year, in [3205] the morning rather than the evening, etc.), etc. etc., and return it to its former state, and make it more suitable first to one thing, then the next, then to more things then to fewer, first more suited then less so, etc. etc. The different physical circumstances which clearly impact on, change, give, take away, increase, reduce, diversify, etc. etc., passions and inclinations in the same individual, in different individuals, in various nations and climates and times, etc., completely independent of both their will and their habitual behavior, are so many and so varied that it would take forever to list and describe them, with their most evident and incontrovertible effects.
(5) Very often the intellect is awakened by manifest and obvious physical causes, like a sweet or shrill noise, or smells, like tobacco, wine, etc. (see p. 3386, end) and what I say here of the intellect is equally true of the passions, sentiment, character, etc.; and what I say here of awakening the intellect is equally true of sending it to sleep, of moving, affecting or altering it in any way, of increasing, producing, or destroying it, either for good or just a short period of time, etc. All these effects in the cases considered have nothing whatsoever to do with habituation, and consequently demonstrate that the spirit of man [3206] may be altered and otherwise molded by causes, circumstances, and physical accidents other than those he is used to. Hence, e.g., light is naturally a cause of joy, as is sound, and darkness is a cause of melancholy, the former often excites the imagination, and inspires it, while the latter depresses it, etc. A clear and bright, or dark and murky, place, apartment, climate, has an impact on the imagination, the intellect, the character of inhabitants, whether individuals or peoples, irrespective of habit. Thus a cloudy or sunny season, day, moment; finding oneself for a longer or shorter time in some dark or bright place, without, however, living there; all these physical circumstances, irrespective of habit and moral circumstances, affect the spirit of man, some temporarily, others for longer periods of time, make it disposed to different things, and make it used to different things, etc. etc. etc. (19 August 1823.) See p. 3344.
Having proved that there is no agreement on the idea of what constitutes beauty among either natural men or among simple and uncorrupted spirits such as those of children, and hence that there is no single such idea in nature; and that moreover, cultured, wise, experienced, and profound men, [3207] artists themselves and poets, etc., disagree on what constitutes beauty, and also in essential things, more or less according to the differences between nations, climates, opinions, habituation, customs, lifestyles, and ages; and that they also disagree, I maintain, very often where they think they are in agreement (for they do not understand each other); that they disagree with each other, and with children and with natural or ignorant men; and that such differences regarding the idea of beauty are found between individual and individual within the same nation, in the same individual in different ages and circumstances; are found, consistently so, between nation and nation, climate and climate, century and century, civilized people and uncivilized people; are found between barbarian and barbarian, learned men and other learned men, ignorant people and other ignorant people, savages and other savages, cultured and uncultured, more and less barbarian people, more and less civilized people, children and children, adults and adults, knowledgeable and not, artists and artists, speculators and speculators, philosophers and philosophers; having proved all this, I say, as I have done on many occasions [→Z 1183ff., 1367–68, 1413ff.], it becomes clear that the ideal, unique, eternal, unchanging, universal idea of beauty is a myth, for neither does nature teach or show it, nor have the philosophers or artists ever discovered it, nor do they discover it by virtue of observations [3208] or cognition, as other stable and invariable ideas belonging to the sciences of truth have been discovered or are discovered, etc. etc. (20 August 1823.)
That what constitutes melody in music, that is, the successive harmony of tones, or rather, harmony in the successive sequence of tones,1 is, like any other form of harmony or congruence, determined by habituation, or by arbitrary laws, may be shown by the fact that musical melodies do not delight the unknowledgeable unless the succession, the successive arrangement, of tones in them is such that our ears become used to them, that is, that such melodies are either entirely popular, in that the people, in hearing the opening sequence, is able to guess the middle, the end, and the entire development, or resemble the popular, or have some popular part or one which resembles the popular.2 Nor is the popular in musical melody anything other than a succession of tones to which the ears of the people, or the listeners generally, have in some way become accustomed. The music of Rossini is universally appreciated for no other reason than because [3209] his melodies are either entirely popular, and lifted, so to speak, from the mouths of the people; or resemble those successions of tones which the people are generally familiar with and have become accustomed to, i.e., popular ones, more than those of other composers do; or have more popular parts, or parts which are similar to the popular, or more similar than is generally the case with other composers. And since what the people and the musically uninformed have become used to in relation to the various successions of tones has no set rules, and differs according to time and place, melodies which are popular, or which resemble popular melodies, are liked more in some places than in others, by some people more than by others, depending on whether they are excessively familiar to their listeners or not familiar enough, or as familiar as is necessary but with the important addition that sufficient room is left for habituation to enable the melody in the succession of tones to be heard, for melody is determined by what the ear has become accustomed to hear. Hence the same musical melody will be more pleasing to one individual than another, more pleasing in one [3210] city than another, universally liked in Italy, or liked by the people but not by the knowledgeable, or when transported to France or Germany not liked by anyone, or liked by the knowledgeable but not by the people—according to whether what each ear has become accustomed to in terms of successions of tones conforms more or less, or is more or less similar, to the elements and parts (μέλη) of that melody, namely what is called its motif.
It is this, and nothing else, that brings about the difference in musical tastes between different peoples. I say between peoples, and not between the knowledgeable who, given that they all have a uniform art distinguished into rules which is universally embraced and recognized with its fixed, invariable, and universal principles, like those of any other science, and which is the same in Italy as it is in Poland, Portugal, or Sweden, in judging a musical melody have no regard to the ear, but to the rules and principles which they have in their art or science, that is, in counterpoint. And given that these rules and principles are the same everywhere and universally recognized in all places, the judgments that different knowledgeable people make cannot differ significantly [3211] from each other, all the more so, the more knowledgeable they are. But the same cannot be said of the people and the unknowledgeable, who have no rule or canon apart from
their own ear, which as principles only has its own habits, certainly not principles universally dictated and inspired by nature, as is generally believed to be the case. Therefore our melodies do not sound like melodies to the Turks or Chinese, nor to other barbarian or indeed civilized nations that are different from our own. And if the latter do sometimes take pleasure in our melodies, such pleasure is born not of the melody itself, that is from the sense of the successive harmony of tones, which they do not perceive or understand even in the case of our most popular melodies. Rather, it is of the pure tones themselves, and the delicacy, smoothness, rapidity and ease with which they succeed, blend and alternate with each other (whether in the voice or on instruments), the sweetness of the voices or instruments, the sonorous or penetrating or similar qualities, and the smoothness of the relationship of one tone to another in terms of the ease and delicacy with which one passes into the other (whereas such passages in the [3212] music of barbarian nations are extremely harsh, for they pass from one tone to another that are too distant from one another, or from one pitch to another that are too distant),1 in short, of a hundred (so to speak, extrinsic) qualities of our music which have nothing whatsoever to do with the respective harmony or propriety of the tones in their succession, that is, with melody and its meaning and flavor, which neither the Turks nor barbarians experience in the slightest when they listen to our music. Exactly the same thing, with all due proportion, occurs to the musically uninformed, and to the people, in Italy, when they hear melodies, as they do all the time, which have nothing or too little of the popular about them. They take no pleasure in them, other than the so-called extrinsic pleasure I described earlier, born of the qualities of the music itself which are different from, and independent of, the harmony of the tones in succession. I shall discuss these nonpopular melodies, which make up the majority of our music, in due course. And in order to conclude the discussion regarding the barbarians and nations that have different ideas, tastes, and emotions in music from our own, I should say that with them, as is also the case [3213] with us, it is habituation that determines the successive arrangements of tones that should be regarded as melodies, and habituation that occasions, as it does with us, the meaning and pleasure of those melodies when they are listened to. If such peoples have no musical theory, the same thing is true of the nation as a whole. If any of these peoples do have their own musical theory, though different from ours, as the Chinese do, the knowledgeable among them have another factor to determine their judgment and cause pleasure in them as a result of the melodies, which is, as it is for our own experts, the degree to which those successions of tones conform to the principles and canons of their musical theory, art, or science. And given that these differ from our own, so too must the judgments of the knowledgeable differ in terms of the various melodies, national or foreign, from those of our own, and so too must the pleasure experienced be different. This is indeed the case in China, where both the people (who everywhere, wherever there is music, would have judged in the same manner) and the knowledgeable (which could not happen in barbarous nations where there is no musical theory [3214] sufficiently distinguished into principles and rules, and ordered and complete, as the Chinese have) expressly judged their music to be more beautiful than the European music which our people sought to introduce along with our theories, an enterprise expressly encouraged by one of their emperors. It was the Jesuits, if I recall correctly, who sought to do this.1
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