But human intelligence not only balks at this explanation, it declares categorically that the whole method is faulty because in the course of this explanation a very slight phenomenon is taken as the cause of a much greater one. It was the sum total of men’s individual wills that caused both the revolution and Napoleon, and nothing but this sum total of wills went on to suffer them and ultimately destroy them.
‘But whenever there have been conquests there have always been great conquerors; whenever states have been rocked by revolution there have always been great politicians,’ says history. ‘Yes, indeed, whenever there have been great conquerors there have been wars,’ replies human intelligence, ‘but this doesn’t prove that the conquerors actually caused the wars, or that the laws behind wars can be discovered in the personal doings of a single man.’
Whenever I look at my clock and see the little hand get to the number ten, bells start ringing in the church next door and I hear them, but the fact that the bell-ringing always starts when the hands get to ten o’clock doesn’t give me the right to assume that the position of the hands on my clock actually causes the movement of the bells.
Whenever I see a steam-engine move, I hear the whistle, and see the valves opening and the wheels turning, but I have no right to assume that the blowing of the whistle and the turning of the wheels actually cause the movement of the engine.
Peasants say that in late spring a cold wind blows because the oak-buds are coming out, and it is certainly true that every spring there is a cold wind blowing just as the oak-tree puts out its shoots. But even though I don’t know what causes a cold wind to blow just when the oaks are bursting forth, I cannot agree with the peasants that the cause of the cold wind is the budding of the tree, because wind power is not affected by buds. All I am seeing here is a coincidental series of events common enough in all walks of life. What I can see is this: however often and however closely I scrutinize the hands on the clock, or the valves and the wheels on the engine, or the oak-buds, I shall never discover what makes bells ring, the engine move, or the wind blow in springtime. In order to do that I shall have to change my angle of approach completely and study the laws that govern the motion of steam, the ringing of bells, and the blowing of the wind. History must do the same thing. And some efforts have already been made in this direction.
In order to study the laws of history we must change the subject completely, forget all about kings, ministers and generals, and turn to the homogeneous, infinitesimal elements that move the masses to action. No one can say how far it is within man’s grasp to arrive at the laws of history in this way, but it is obvious that this is the only possible way of discovering any historical laws, and human intelligence has hitherto not devoted to this way of thinking a millionth part of the effort that historians have put into describing the doings of various kings, ministers and generals, and expounding their own opinions of those doings.
CHAPTER 2
An armed force speaking a dozen different European tongues has invaded Russia. The Russian army and population pull back to avoid a confrontation, first to Smolensk, then from Smolensk to Borodino. The French army moves on towards Moscow, its goal, accelerating all the time. The advance gathers momentum as the army nears its goal, just as the speed of a falling body increases as it nears the ground. Behind them lie hundreds of miles of hunger and hostility; ahead, only a few dozen miles separate them from their goal. This is sensed by every soldier in Napoleon’s army, and the invading force, propelled by its own momentum, needs no driving.
Among the retreating Russian troops bitter hostility and hatred of the enemy flare up more and more furiously as they go; every step back concentrates the mind and builds determination. At Borodino the armies come together. Neither is destroyed, but immediately after the conflict the Russian army pulls back; this is inevitable, just as a billiard-ball automatically recoils when hit by another ball travelling faster towards it. And just as inevitably, even though the ball of the invading army has discharged its energy in the collision, there is just enough left for it to go trundling on a short distance further.
