Chapter 7.—Of the Diversity of
Languages, by Which the Intercourse of Men is Prevented; And of the
Misery of Wars, Even of Those Called Just.
After the state or city comes the
world, the third circle of human society,—the first being the
house, and the second the city. And the world, as it is larger,
so it is fuller of dangers, as the greater sea is the more
dangerous. And here, in the first place, man is separated from
man by the difference of languages. For if two men, each ignorant
of the other’s language, meet, and are not compelled to pass,
but, on the contrary, to remain in company, dumb animals, though of
different species, would more easily hold intercourse than they,
human beings though they be. For their common nature is no help
to friendliness when they are prevented by diversity of language
from conveying their sentiments to one another; so that a man would
more readily hold intercourse with his dog than with a foreigner.
But the imperial city has endeavored to impose on subject nations
not only her yoke, but her language, as a bond of peace, so that
interpreters, far from being scarce, are numberless. This is
true; but how many great wars, how much slaughter and bloodshed,
have provided this unity! And though these are past, the end of
these miseries has not yet come. For though there have never been
wanting, nor are yet wanting, hostile nations beyond the empire,
against whom wars have been and are waged, yet, supposing there
were no such nations, the very extent of the empire itself has
produced wars of a more obnoxious description—social and civil
wars—and with these the whole race has been agitated, either by
the actual conflict or the fear of a renewed outbreak. If I
attempted to give an adequate description of these manifold
disasters, these stern and lasting necessities, though I am quite
unequal to the task, what limit could I set? But, say they, the
wise man will wage just wars. As if he would not all the rather
lament the necessity of just wars, if he remembers that he is a
man; for if they were not just he would not wage them, and would
therefore be delivered from all wars. For it is the wrongdoing of
the opposing party which compels the wise man to wage just wars;
and this wrong-doing, even though it gave rise to no war, would
still be matter of grief to man because it is man’s
wrong-doing. Let every one, then, who thinks with pain on all
these great evils, so horrible, so ruthless, acknowledge that this
is misery. And if any one either endures or thinks of them
without mental pain, this is a more miserable plight still, for he
thinks himself happy because he has lost human feeling.