VICO AND THE TENDENCIES OF CONTEMPORARY CULTURE
Having reached, in his review of the course of history, his own time,
a time of civilisation spread over all nations, Vico gives a rapid
description of the contemporary world and then says no more: perhaps
unsatisfied, at any rate uncertain or cautious. As he was not led to
embark upon the New Science by the direct call of political problems,1
at least in the ordinary meaning of the phrase, he never descends from
the contemplations of the New Science to: the practical life, even
in the form which it most usually takes with a philosopher, a work
or short treatise criticising laws and institutions or suggesting
improvements. Even when he does dimly conceive the idea of a "practical
aspect" of his science, he never supposes that so far as he is
concerned it could ever exist except "within the academies."
Practical philosophy "within the academies," that is to say, within the
sphere of culture, is however still practical and political; and it is
assuredly not the least important branch of politics. And a historian
or philosopher can never entirely avoid it, though he can emphasise it
more or less and develop it more or less fully.
Vico does emphasise and develop it freely. The first expression of
his scientific life was precisely an examination of modern methods
of study and education as compared with those of the ancients: an
examination which after various attempts and uncertainties in his first
discoveries, took form in his University inaugural lecture of 1708, _De
nostri temporis studiorum ratione._ In the following years, engaged as
he was upon the New Science, he gave no further public demonstration
of his discontent with the prevailing tendency of studies; but he
expressed his feelings on the subject all the more often and all the
more strongly in private letters, and did not wish to pass over the
question in his autobiography. We need not then infer his polemical
attitude from hints and chance phrases of his chief work; since he has
himself more than once converted these hints into explicit statements
and these chance phrases into leading propositions.
This polemic occupies two closely-related spheres corresponding to
the double aspect of the New Science as a Philosophy of Mind and a
Generalising Science. Under the first aspect Vico had vindicated
the claims of imagination, the imaginative universal, probability,
certitude, experience and authority, and therefore also of poetry,
religion, history, observation of nature, scholarship and tradition.
Under the second, he had traced a scheme of the natural development of
the mind both in the history of mankind and in that of the individual,
which he brings into constant relation with the phases of history.
Hence his examination was bound to extend on the one hand to the mental
condition of his own time and on the other to the way in which the
education of children and young people was conceived and undertaken.
In both spheres Vico saw the same defects; he was met by the same and
intellectualism which had made impossible the process of thought and
had mutilated and falsified the truth of human history.
On emerging from grammar-schools, boys were immediately plunged into
logic. The logic studied might be, according to the teacher's taste,
either the scholastic or more often that composed by Arnauld and
called the Port-Royal Logic, itself in substance Aristotelian and
Scholastic, but full of dry judgments concerning abstruse subjects in
advanced sciences and far removed from common knowledge; overloaded
in fact with examples drawn from such sciences. Such a discipline was
meant to make boys critical and to eradicate from their minds not
only false, but even probable and plausible opinions. As a matter of
fact it eradicated nothing, since their minds were still empty or
scantily furnished, and unable to make any use of criticism for lack
of matter to criticise. They were to be taught to judge before being
taught to apprehend, an order false to the natural course of ideas,
which are first apprehended, then judged, and finally reasoned. The
result was that minds educated in this way became arid and unfruitful
in development, and believed themselves capable of judging everything,
while able to create nothing. They remained all their lives intensely
acute in formal thinking, but incapable of any great labour; critical,
in fact, but sterile. This caused not only unsoundness and arrogance of
judgment but incapacity in practical life, dealings with men, and civil
eloquence, which is founded less upon criticism than upon plausibility,
and attains its end by making opportune remarks, understanding the
psychology of one's inter-locutor and acting in a manner adapted to it.
Vico himself had suffered from the logico-critical method of education.
One of his first teachers, the Jesuit Del Balzo, had put into his hands
the works of the epitomist Paulus Venetus: and his mind, being too weak
as yet to cope with this kind of Chrysippean logic, almost broke down
under the strain; so that having given up his studies in despair it was
eighteen months before he resumed them. He preserved a happier memory
of his youthful essays in poetry in the wildest style of the Neapolitan
school of Marino: a form of diversion, he says, almost necessary to
the mind of the young when metaphysic has rendered it too subtle and
too rigid in precisely those years when the ardour of youth ought to
lead the mind into errors, so as to save it from becoming chilly and
dry. This age, the "barbarism of intellect," vigorous in imagination
and also, through the close connexion that exists between the two,
in memory, requires to be nourished and exercised by the reading of
poetry, history and rhetoric as well as by the study of languages. The
art which it ought to learn is not criticism but "topic," the true
art of the "_ingenium_" or faculty of invention. By means of this art
children acquire materials which enable them to form sound judgments in
later life; for sound judgment depends upon a complete knowledge of its
subject-matter, and "topic" is the art of discovering the whole content
of any given thing. In this way young people simply by following the
course of nature become at once philosophers and good speakers.
Some antidote is doubtless necessary to the exuberance of the
imagination. But this must be sought in linear geometry rather than in
logic: for geometry is to some extent pictorial in character, while it
strengthens the memory by the great number of its elements, ennobles
the imagination by the delicacy of its figures and stimulates the
inventive faculty by forcing it to review all these figures in order to
choose those suitable to the demonstration of the quantity required.
But the whole value of geometry also was annulled by the method then
in favour with the schools, the algebraic method; which like the
scholastic logic numbs all the vigour of youthful faculties, obscures
the imagination, enfeebles the memory, and renders the inventive power
and the understanding sluggish; thus damaging the liberal arts in four
distinct ways, in the knowledge of languages and history, in invention
and in prudence. More particularly algebra is fatal to the inventive
faculty, because in using the algebraic method one is conscious only of
the immediate field of vision; it weakens the memory because once the
second sign is found the first need no longer be remembered; it blinds
the imagination, because that faculty is not used at all; it destroys
the understanding, because it lays claim to the power of divination.
Young men who have devoted their time to it on proceeding to deal with
the affairs of civil life find themselves, to their great grief and
remorse, unfitted for such a life. Hence, to make it useful in some
degree and to prevent these ill effects, it should be studied for a
short time only at the close of the mathematical course, and employed
only as a means of abbreviation. The habit of reasoning is formed much
better by metaphysical analysis, which in all questions begins by
taking truth in the infinity of being, and then descends by degrees;
through the genera of the substance, eliminating in every species that
which the thing is not, till it arrives at the ultimate differentia
constituting the essence of the thing we wish to know.
Education as a whole was suffering from an excess of mathematics and
a lack of concreteness. As if boys, on emerging from academic life,
were to enter a human world composed of lines, numbers and algebraic
symbols, their heads were crammed with the magnificent phrases
"demonstration," "demonstrative truth," and "evidence," and the rule
of probability was condemned; though this rule is the only guide of
statesmen in their counsels, generals in their campaigns, orators in
their treatment of a cause, judges in giving a decision, physicians in
treating bodily diseases, and moralistic theologians in treating those
of the conscience; the rule which the world accepts, and upon which
it rests in all disputes and controversies, in all measures, and in
all elections; which are universally determined by unanimity or the
majority of votes. Such an education bred up an empty and inflated
generation, pedantry without wisdom and argument without truth.
The educators themselves, that is to say, the general atmosphere of
culture, resembled this scheme of education. Poetry was dead. The
analytic methods had "numbed" (to repeat once more a word which Vico
uses with great frequency and force) "all the generosity of the better
poetry." And indeed Europe was never so entirely barren of all poetic
growth as it was in the first half of the eighteenth century. Italy
was reduced to the drama of Metastasio; France had produced no one to
succeed Corneille and Molière; in Spain the national drama, that great
outburst of the national spirit, was dead, and a rationalism imitating
that of France was taking its place; England seemed to have entirely
forgotten that she once gave birth to Shakespear, and even Germany was
wasting her time over neo-classical imitations. Not only did nobody
create new poetry, but nobody wanted it. The philosophers, following
Descartes and Malebranche, had declared a war of extermination against
all the faculties of the mind which depend upon sense, and especially
against the imagination, which they hated as the source of every
error. They condemned the poets on the false pretext that they told
"fables," as if the fables they told were not those eternal properties
of the human mind which to the political philosophers, economists and
moralists are the subject-matter of reasoning, and to the poets that of
representation.
The Cartesians also used their authority to belittle the study of
languages. Did not Descartes say that the knowledge of Latin was no
greater knowledge than was possessed by Cicero's servant-girl? Serious
scholarship in Latin and Greek had come to an end with the writers
of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries; the study of oriental
languages was confined to the Protestants; and Holland was the only
country in which law was still a subject of research. The famous
library of Valletta at Naples, rich in the finest editions of Greek
and Latin works, was generously bought by the fathers of the Oratory,
but for less than half its original value owing to the depreciation
of books. In France the library of Cardinal Dubois found no purchaser
and was sold in small lots. Princes no longer loved good Latin, and
none of them thought of preserving to posterity by the pen of pure
Latin scholarship even an event so weighty as the War of the Spanish
Succession, comparable only to the second Punic war.
New methods were in great favour: but none of these could point to new
facts discovered by their help. New formulae, old facts; and instead of
facts, a futile hope of attaining universal knowledge in the shortest
time and with the smallest effort. Civil and political learning was
neglected for physical science, and physical science for mathematical;
experience was almost ignored; the inventive thought of the previous
century all but entirely exhausted. Scepticism, the result of the
Cartesian method, invaded the field of knowledge.
The whole of Europe was during this period still under the dominion
of the French language, a language which differs from the Italian in
its hostility to poetry and eloquence; rich, says Vico, in terms of
substance, and consequently, since substance is a brutal and immobile
thing and does not admit of comparisons, incapable of giving colour,
amplitude or weight to its statements; it resists inversion and is
barren of metaphor. The French have no periods but only members
of periods: their prosody has no verse better than the so-called
Alexandrine, a system of couplets more thin and lifeless than the
elegiac: and their words admit of no accent except those on the last
two syllables. French is a language incapable of the sublime, but well
adapted to the petty: owing to its abundance of terms of substance or
abstract terms it is adapted also to the didactic style, and instead of
eloquence it offers _esprit._ It was not unfitting that criticism and
analysis originated in France and made use of the French tongue.
The only possession of value which grew up day by day in all this
poverty was the abstracts, the encyclopaedias, the dictionaries of
science which bore the names of such men as Bayle, Hoffmann and Moreri:
the idlest and most casual method of learning that could possibly
be devised. The genius of the age was more drawn towards expounding
second-hand knowledge in an abbreviated form than towards attempting to
enlarge its bounds. That seemed impossible: so men went on compiling
dictionaries of mathematics. Every one felt a thirst for cheap science.
To be thought good, a book must be clear and simple, capable of being
discussed with ladies as a pastime; if it demanded wide and copious
erudition of the reader, and forced upon him the unpleasant exercise of
thought and synthesis, it was condemned as unintelligible.
These dictionaries and abstracts recalled to Vico's mind the similar
products of the Greek decadence, the anthologies, lexicons and
encyclopaedias of Suidas, Stobaeus and Photius. The whole culture
of his time seemed to him to be repeating the downfall of Greek
science, exhausting itself in a metaphysic either useless or harmful
to civilisation and a mathematics engaged in investigating quantities
intangible by rule and compass, and incapable of application. Like
others among the best minds of his country he was persuaded that
the republic of letters was approaching dissolution, if the divine
providence failed by one of its innumerable secret paths to infuse
new vigour into it. Where was now the wise man, the real "_sapiens_"
whom Vico had found in history, first in the barbaric figure of the
theologian-poet, then in the civilised and rational figure of Greek
philosopher and Roman jurist, the man whom for to-day he hoped to find
in the master of eloquence like himself, called to give unity, life and
power to all knowledge? Wisdom is indeed not this or that science, nor
yet the sum total of science; it is the faculty which rules over all
studies and by which all the sciences and arts that go to make humanity
are acquired. And since man is both thought and spirit, intellect and
will, it must satisfy both these sides of man, the second as a result
of the first: it must teach the knowledge of divine things, to bring
to perfection things human. The wise man is man in his totality and
entirety, the whole man.
The ideal is no doubt lofty, and the criticism upon the educational
method and tendencies of thought current in his age are, no doubt,
perfectly just. And yet among all these admirable truths, far in
advance of the eighteenth century as they are, we feel in Vico the
educationalist and critic something of the reactionary. We feel
that, in his exclusive care for the fate of the highest and most
austere science and his exclusive attention to the most complete
form of human life, he failed to grasp the revolutionary importance
of this scepticism or rationalism, this rebellion against the past,
the necessary weapon of a warfare against kings, nobles and priests;
of these abstracts and dictionaries which were to develop into the
Encyclopaedia; of this popular science, the forerunner of journalism,
and these booklets for the use of ladies in fashionable conversation
which were the nourishment of the eighteenth-century salons and
prepared men's minds for the radicalism of the Jacobins. We feel in
him here as in his philosophical system, the Catholic chained to the
philosopher, the Christian pessimist weighing down the dialectic
of immanence. Unable to realise his adversaries' progress, he does
not comprehend their real nature as lower than himself, but yet
constituting steps leading up to himself, steps which he ought to
have traversed in order to attain a truer understanding and grasp
of himself. His polemical attitude towards the culture of his time
completes and confirms the analysis already given of the merits and
defects of his philosophy.