《War And Peace》 Epilogue2 CHAPTER XII
by Leo Tolstoy
EVER SINCE the law of Copernicus was discovered and proved, the mere
recognition that not the sun, but the earth moves, has destroyed the whole
cosmography of the ancients. By disproving the law, it might have been possible
to retain the old conception of the movements of the heavenly bodies; but
without disproving it, it would seem to be impossible to continue studying the
Ptolemaic worlds. But as a fact even after the discovery of the law of
Copernicus, the Ptolemaic worlds long continued to be a subject of study.
Ever since the first person said and proved that the number of births or
crimes is subject to mathematical laws, that certain geographical and
politico-economical laws determine this or that form of government, that certain
relations of the population to the soil lead to migrations of peoples—from that
moment the foundations on which history was built were destroyed in their
essence.
By disproving those new laws, the old view of history might have been
retained. But without disproving them, it would seem impossible to continue
studying historical events, merely as the arbitrary product of the free will of
individual men. For if a certain type of government is established, or a certain
movement of peoples takes place in consequence of certain geographical,
ethnographical, or economic conditions, the free will of those persons who are
described to us as setting up that type of government or leading that movement
cannot be regarded as the cause.
And yet history goes on being studied as of old, side by side with laws of
statistics, of geography, of political economy, of comparative philology and
geology, that flatly contradict its assumptions.
The struggle between the new views and the old was long and stubborn in
physical philosophy. Theology stood on guard over the old view, and accused the
new view of violating revelation. But when truth gained the day, theology
established itself as firmly as ever on a new basis.
As long and as obstinate is the conflict to-day between the old and the new
view of history; and in the same way theology stands on guard over the old view,
and accuses the new of attacking revelation.
In both cases on both sides, the struggle rouses evil passions and stifles
truth. On one side there is dread and reGREt at demolishing the edifice that has
been raised by the ages; on the other, the passion for destruction.
To the men who fought against the new truths of physical philosophy, it
seemed that if they were to admit that truth, it would shatter faith in God, in
the creation of the firmament, in the miracle of Joshua, the son of Nun. To the
champions of the laws of Copernicus and Newton, to Voltaire, for instance, it
seemed that the laws of astronomy were destructive of religion, and the latter
made use of the law of gravity as a weapon against religion.
So now it seems that we have but to admit the law of necessity to shatter the
conception of the soul, of good, of evil, and of the political and
ecclesiastical edifices reared on the basis of those conceptions.
So too, like Voltaire in his day, the champions of the law of necessity use
the law as a weapon against religion, though, like the law of Copernicus in
astronomy, the law of necessity in history, far from destroying even strengthens
the foundation on which political and ecclesiastical edifices are reared.
Just as then in the question of astronomy, now in the question of history,
the whole difference of view rested on the recognition or non-recognition of an
absolute unit as a measure of visible phenomena. For astronomy, this was the
immobility of the earth; in history, the independence of personality—free
will.
Just as in astronomy the difficulty of admitting the motion of the earth lay
in the immediate sensation of the earth's stationariness and of the planets'
motion, so in history the difficulty of recognising the subjection of the
personality to the laws of space and time and causation lies in the difficulty
of surmounting the direct sensation of the independence of one's personality.
But just as in astronomy, the new view said, “It is true, we do not feel the
movement of the earth, but, if we admit its immobility, we are reduced to
absurdity, while admitting its movement, we are led to laws”; so in history,
the new view says, “It is true, we do not feel our dependence, but admitting
our free will, we are led to absurdity; admitting our dependence on the external
world, time, and cause, we are led to laws.”
In the first case, we had to surmount the sensation of an unreal immobility
in space, and to admit a motion we could not perceive of by sense. In the
present case, it is as essential to surmount a consciousness of an unreal
freedom and to recognise a dependence not perceived by our senses.
