Belgian essays (French) -- Translations into English; Death
This is why our efforts are difficult and worthy of praise. We are
setting ourselves—we cannot too often repeat it—against the will of
earth. Our enemies are urged forward by a force that drives us back.
They are marching with nature, whereas we are striving against the great
current that sweeps the globe. The earth has an idea, which is no longer
ours. She remains convinced that man is an animal in all things like
other animals. She has not yet observed that he is withdrawing himself
from the herd. She does not yet know that he has climbed her highest
mountain-peaks. She has not yet heard tell of justice, pity, loyalty
and honour; she does not realize what they are, or confounds them with
weakness, clumsiness, fear and stupidity. She has stopped short at
the original certitudes which were indispensable to the beginnings of
life. She is lagging behind us; and the interval that divides us is
rapidly increasing. She thinks less quickly; she has not yet had time
to understand us. Moreover, she does not reckon as we do; and for her
the centuries are less than our years. She is slow because she is almost
eternal, while we are prompt because we have not many hours before us.
It may be that one day her thought will overtake ours; in the meantime,
we have to vindicate our advance and to prove to ourselves, as we are
beginning to do, that it is lawful to be in the right as against her,
that our advance is not fatal and that it is possible to maintain it.
4
For it is becoming difficult to argue that earth or nature is always
right and that those who do not blindly follow earth’s impulses are
necessarily doomed to perish. We have learned to observe her more
attentively and we have won the right to judge her. We have discovered
that, far from being infallible, she is continually making mistakes.
She gropes and hesitates. She does not know precisely what she wants.
She begins by making stupendous blunders. She first peoples the world
with uncouth and incoherent monsters, not one of which is capable of
living; these all disappear. Gradually she acquires, at the cost of
the life which she creates, an experience that is the cruel fruit of
the immeasurable suffering which she unfeelingly inflicts. At last she
grows wiser, curbs and amends herself, corrects herself, returns upon
her footsteps, repairs her errors, expending her best energies and her
highest intelligence upon the correction. It is incontestable that she is
improving her methods, that she is more skilful, more prudent and less
extravagant than at the outset. And yet the fact remains that, in every
department of life, in every organism, down to our own bodies, there is a
survival of bad workmanship, of twofold functions, of oversights, changes
of intention, absurdities, useless complications and meaningless waste.
We therefore have no reason to believe that our enemies are in the right
because earth is with them. Earth does not possess the truth any more
than we do.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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