Essays of Schopenhauer
there is a scene in the second act between Zenobia and Decius where the
latter says, _Cielos, luego tu me quieres? Perdiera cien mil victorias,
Volviérame_, etc. (Heavens! then you love me? For this I would
sacrifice a thousand victories, etc.) In this case honour, which has
hitherto outweighed every other interest, is driven out of the field
directly love--_i.e._, the interest of the species--comes into play and
discerns something that will be of decided advantage to itself; for the
interest of the species, compared with that of the mere individual,
however important this may be, is infinitely more important. Honour,
duty, and fidelity succumb to it after they have withstood every other
temptation--the menace of death even. We find the same going on in
private life; for instance, a man has less conscience when in love than
in any other circumstances. Conscience is sometimes put on one side even
by people who are otherwise honest and straightforward, and infidelity
recklessly committed if they are passionately in love--i.e., when the
interest of the species has taken possession of them. It would seem,
indeed, as if they believed themselves conscious of a greater authority
than the interests of individuals could ever confer; this is simply
because they are concerned in the interest of the species. Chamfort's
utterance in this respect is remarkable: _Quand un homme et une femme
ont l'un pour l'autre une passion violente, il me semble toujours que
quelque soient les obstacles qui les séparent, un mari, des parens,
etc.; les deux amans sont l'un à l'autre, de par la Nature, qu'ils
s'appartiennent de droit devin, malgré les lois et les conventions
humaines_.... From this standpoint the greater part of the _Decameron_
seems a mere mocking and jeering on the part of the genius of the
species at the rights and interests of the individual which it treads
underfoot. Inequality of rank and all similar relations are put on one
side with the same indifference and disregarded by the genius of the
species, if they thwart the union of two people passionately in love
with one another: it pursues its ends pertaining to endless generations,
scattering human principles and scruples abroad like chaff.
For the same reason, a man will willingly risk every kind of danger, and
even become courageous, although he may otherwise be faint-hearted. What
a delight we take in watching, either in a play or novel, two young
lovers fighting for each other--i.e., for the interest of the
species--and their defeat of the old people, who had only in view the
welfare of the individual! For the struggling of a pair of lovers seems
to us so much more important, delightful, and consequently justifiable
than any other, as the species is more important than the individual.
Accordingly, we have as the fundamental subject of almost all comedies
the genius of the species with its purposes, running counter to the
personal interests of the individuals presented, and, in consequence,
threatening to undermine their happiness. As a rule it carries out its
ends, which, in keeping with true poetic justice, satisfies the
spectator, because the latter feels that the purposes of the species
widely surpass those of the individual. Hence he is quite consoled when
he finally takes leave of the victorious lovers, sharing with them the
illusion that they have established their own happiness, while, in
truth, they have sacrificed it for the welfare of the species, in
opposition to the will of the discreet old people.
It has been attempted in a few out-of-the-way comedies to reverse this
state of things and to effect the happiness of the individuals at the
cost of the ends of the species; but here the spectator is sensible of
the pain inflicted on the genius of the species, and does not find
consolation in the advantages that are assured to the individuals.
Two very well-known little pieces occur to me as examples of this kind:
_La reine de 16 ans_, and _Le mariage de raison_.
In the love-affairs that are treated in tragedies the lovers, as a rule,
perish together: the reason for this is that the purposes of the
species, whose tools the lovers were, have been frustrated, as, for
instance, in _Romeo and Juliet, Tancred, Don Carlos, Wallenstein, The
Bride of Messina_, and so on.
A man in love frequently furnishes comic as well as tragic aspects; for
being in the possession of the spirit of the species and controlled by
it, he no longer belongs to himself, and consequently his line of
conduct is not in keeping with that of the individual. It is
fundamentally this that in the higher phases of love gives such a
poetical and sublime colour, nay, transcendental and hyperphysical turn
to a man's thoughts, whereby he appears to lose sight of his essentially
material purpose. He is inspired by the spirit of the species, whose
affairs are infinitely more important than any which concern mere
individuals, in order to establish by special mandate of this spirit the
existence of an indefinitely long posterity with _this_ particular and
precisely determined nature, which it can receive only from him as
father and his loved one as mother, and which, moreover, _as such_ never
comes into existence, while the objectivation of the will to live
expressly demands this existence. It is the feeling that he is engaged
in affairs of such transcendent importance that exalts the lover above
everything earthly, nay, indeed, above himself, and gives such a
hyperphysical clothing to his physical wishes, that love becomes, even
in the life of the most prosaic, a poetical episode; and then the affair
often assumes a comical aspect. That mandate of the will which
objectifies itself in the species presents itself in the consciousness
of the lover under the mask of the anticipation of an infinite
happiness, which is to be found in his union with this particular woman.
This illusion to a man deeply in love becomes so dazzling that if it
cannot be attained, life itself not only loses all charm, but appears to
be so joyless, hollow, and uninteresting as to make him too disgusted
with it to be afraid of the terrors of death; this is why he sometimes
of his own free will cuts his life short. The will of a man of this kind
has become engulfed in that of the species, or the will of the species
has obtained so great an ascendency over the will of the individual that
if such a man cannot be effective in the manifestation of the first, he
disdains to be so in the last. The individual in this case is too weak a
vessel to bear the infinite longing of the will of the species
concentrated upon a definite object. When this is the case suicide is
the result, and sometimes suicide of the two lovers; unless nature, to
prevent this, causes insanity, which then enshrouds with its veil the
consciousness of so hopeless a condition. The truth of this is confirmed
yearly by various cases of this description.
However, it is not only unrequited love that leads frequently to a
tragic end; for requited love more frequently leads to unhappiness than
to happiness. This is because its demands often so severely clash with
the personal welfare of the lover concerned as to undermine it, since
the demands are incompatible with the lover's other circumstances, and
in consequence destroy the plans of life built upon them. Further, love
frequently runs counter not only to external circumstances but to the
individuality itself, for it may fling itself upon a person who, apart
from the relation of sex, may become hateful, despicable, nay, even
repulsive. As the will of the species, however, is so very much stronger
than that of the individual, the lover shuts his eyes to all
objectionable qualities, overlooks everything, ignores all, and unites
himself for ever to the object of his passion. He is so completely
blinded by this illusion that as soon as the will of the species is
accomplished the illusion vanishes and leaves in its place a hateful
companion for life. From this it is obvious why we often see very
intelligent, nay, distinguished men married to dragons and she-devils,
and why we cannot understand how it was possible for them to make such a
choice. Accordingly, the ancients represented _Amor_ as blind. In fact,
it is possible for a lover to clearly recognise and be bitterly
conscious of horrid defects in his _fiancée's_ disposition and
character--defects which promise him a life of misery--and yet for him
not to be filled with fear:
"I ask not, I care not,
If guilt's in thy heart;
I know that I love thee,
Whatever thou art."
For, in truth, he is not acting in his own interest but in that of a
third person, who has yet to come into existence, albeit he is under the
impression that he is acting in his own But it is this very _acting in
some one else's interest_ which is everywhere the stamp of greatness and
gives to passionate love the touch of the sublime, making it a worthy
subject for the poet. Finally, a man may both love and hate his beloved
at the same time. Accordingly, Plato compares a man's love to the love
of a wolf for a sheep. We have an instance of this kind when a
passionate lover, in spite of all his exertions and entreaties, cannot
obtain a hearing upon any terms.
"I love and hate her."--SHAKESPEARE, _Cymb_. iii. 5.
When hatred is kindled, a man will sometimes go so far as to first kill
his beloved and then himself. Examples of this kind are brought before
our notice yearly in the newspapers. Therefore Goethe says truly:
"Bei aller verschmähten Liebe, beim höllichen Elemente!
Ich wollt', ich wüsst' was ärger's, das ich fluchen könnte!"
It is in truth no hyperbole on the part of a lover when he calls his
beloved's coldness, or the joy of her vanity, which delights in his
suffering, _cruelty_. For he has come under the influence of an impulse
which, akin to the instinct of animals, compels him in spite of all
reason to unconditionally pursue his end and discard every other; he
cannot give it up. There has not been one but many a Petrarch, who,
failing to have his love requited, has been obliged to drag through life
as if his feet were either fettered or carried a leaden weight, and give
vent to his sighs in a lonely forest; nevertheless there was only one
Petrarch who possessed the true poetic instinct, so that Goethe's
beautiful lines are true of him:
"Und wenn der Mensch in seiner Quaal verstummt,
Gab mir ein Gott, zu sagen, wie ich leide."
As a matter of fact, the genius of the species is at continual warfare
with the guardian genius of individuals; it is its pursuer and enemy; it
is always ready to relentlessly destroy personal happiness in order to
carry out its ends; indeed, the welfare of whole nations has sometimes
been sacrificed to its caprice. Shakespeare furnishes us with such an
example in _Henry VI_ Part III., Act iii., Scenes 2 and 3. This is
because the species, in which lies the germ of our being, has a nearer
and prior claim upon us than the individual, so that the affairs of the
species are more important than those of the individual. Sensible of
this, the ancients personified the genius of the species in Cupid,
notwithstanding his having the form of a child, as a hostile and cruel
god, and therefore one to be decried as a capricious and despotic demon,
and yet lord of both gods and men.
Συ δ' ὠ θεων τυραννε κ' ἀνθρωπων, Ἐρως.
(Tu, deorum hominumque tyranne, Amor!)
Murderous darts, blindness, and wings are Cupid's attributes. The latter
signify inconstancy, which as a rule comes with the disillusion
following possession.
Because, for instance, love is based on an illusion and represents what
is an advantage to the species as an advantage to the individual, the
illusion necessarily vanishes directly the end of the species has been