Johann P. L. Withof: MDCCLVI

Hominem, qualem eum Natura fabricat, illa adeo potens, divina illa Natura, saepius ego miratus sum, tam incredibiliter exiguis intervallis a bruto animali distare; ita quidem ut aliquando mentem mihi illa traxerit dubitatio, utrum homo bene sapiens bruta animalia, an haec potius hominem recens natum pluribus parasangis superarent. Infantes certe a matre adhuc rubentes quam nihil penitus earum facultatum possident, quibus homines bene educati animantibus ceteris praestamus!

The human being, such as Nature fabricates him, that power so potent, that divine Nature, I have quite often marveled to be separated by such incredibly small intervals from the brute animal; so indeed that doubt has sometimes drawn my mind, whether the well-wise man surpasses brute animals, or rather these surpass a newly born human by many parasangs. Infants, to be sure, still red from the mother, how utterly they possess nothing of those faculties by which well-educated men excel the other animals!

Praestamus certe illis, quidquid Despreauxius rideat, quidquid renitatur Rovarius; usque adeo, ut facta non tantum marmoreis monumentis digna, sed & ipsa haec monumenta in gloriam et existimationem nostram nobis ipsi efficere queamus. Atque hanc certe veram hominis excellentiam literarum praecipue disciplinis deberi, neminem vestrum fore puto, qui hoc, utcunque velit, in dubium vocare ausit.

We certainly surpass them, whatever Despreauxius may mock, whatever Rovarius may gainsay; to such a degree that we are able to make not only deeds worthy of marble monuments, but even these monuments themselves into our own glory and estimation. And that this, surely, the true excellence of man, is owed especially to the disciplines of letters literature, I think there will be none of you who, however he may wish, would dare to call this into doubt.

Quandoquidem illi vero, qui literarum studia unice in rei familiaris incrementum crude detorquent, deque scientiarum augment securi in utramque aurem dormiunt, Mercenariorum potius, quam Eruditorum, nomen merentur: vel sine me monitore vos omnes ex facili intellecturos esse confido, illas demum scientias a nobis Literarum titulo insigniri, quae in divitiarum minus, quam in augmentum culturamque Veritatum, quarum capax nempe humana mens est, usurpantur.

Since, indeed, those who crudely distort the studies of letters solely toward the increase of private fortune, and, unconcerned for the augmentation of the sciences, sleep soundly, deserve the name of Hirelings rather than of the Learned: I am confident that even without me as monitor you all will easily understand that those sciences, and those alone, are to be marked by us with the title of Letters, which are employed less for riches than for the augmentation and cultivation of Truths, of which the human mind, to be sure, is capable.

Quid igitur iustius, quid videri aeqiuspotest, quam istas tam efficaces artes, a quibus omnem nostram praestantiam proficisci apparet, perenni cedroque dignissima laude concelebrare? Et ergo quidem eodem propemodum temporis momento, quo dimidiata verba tentare, earum etiam sacris, quae reverenter dein, nec sine religione unquam habui, optimo Parente duce unico et certissimo, initiari coepi.

What therefore more just, what can seem more equitable, than to celebrate with perennial and cedar-worthy praise those so efficacious arts, from which it appears that all our preeminence proceeds? And therefore indeed at almost the same moment of time when I began to attempt halved words, I also began to be initiated into their sacred rites (sacra)—which thereafter I have held reverently, and never without religion—with my best Parent as guide, sole and most sure.

Quam mihi igitur operam vel magis honorificam eligere, vel suaviorem perficere facilioremque possem, quam si pro virili maximaque animi contentione praestantissima quaevis, nonnulla etiam aliis minus forte observata argumenta in earum laudem artificiose construerem? Etiamsi mihi venerendum videretur, ne omnem sic propemodum operam oleumque perderem ea operose commendans, quae nemo sanae mentis compos unquam vituperabit; quum ea nunc rursus tempora vivere incipiamus, quibus ut quisque vel animo honestiore, vel excellentiore est ingenio, ita divinas has artes maiore etiam cultu prosequi deprehenditur.

What work, then, could I choose as more honorific, or bring to completion as more suave and more facile, than if, to the best of my ability and with the greatest striving of spirit, I were to construct artfully in their praise whatever most preeminent arguments, and even certain points perhaps less observed by others? Even though it would seem to me a thing to be venerated, that I should not thus almost entirely lose my effort and oil by laboriously commending those things which no one in possession of a sane mind will ever vituperate; since we are now again beginning to live in those times in which, the more each person is either of a more honorable mind or of a more excellent ingenium, so he is found to pursue these divine arts with even greater cult.

Faciamne erg, quod procul dubio cogitatis? Cogitatis certe, quoniam laudare scientias detrectavi, eas me nunc accusaturum esse. Et hoc faciam: bona scilicet vestra cum venia, Viri magnanimi, qui ab eruditione immortale nomen, uti optima quaevis hominum societas a vobis doctrinam accepit atque polituram.

Shall I then do what you without doubt are thinking? You certainly are thinking, since I have declined to praise the sciences, that I am now going to accuse them. And this I shall do: with your good leave, Magnanimous Men, you who have an immortal name from erudition, just as whatever is best in human society has received from you doctrine and polish.

Itaque de Scientiarum in animi corporisque enervando robore damnosa efficacia breviter disserere, apud animum meum constitui. Vanus esem, si vestram, Auditores, benevolentiam, quam quum alias, tum in hoc etiam loco satis probatam habeo, longo verborum syrmate, dum brevissimus nunc esse laboro, mihi exorandam esse putarem. Favete quotquot aequo animo adestis et rem cognoscite.

Therefore I have resolved in my mind to discourse briefly concerning the damaging efficacy of the Sciences in enervating the strength of mind and body. I would be vain, if I were to think that your benevolence, Auditors, which I have found sufficiently approved both at other times and even here in this place, must be entreated by me with a long train of words, while I am now striving to be most brief. Be favorable, all you who are present with an even mind, and come to know the matter.

Scientiae, quotcunque nomen hoc tueri possunt, vel ad elegantiores literas, vel revocari ad philosophiam omnes debent. Non alio quippe nomine Scientias quasvis ad examinis hic lancem exigimus, nisi qua parte tenus vel inveniendae vel demonstrandae Veritati, vel illi denique exornandae inserviunt. Quibus horum enim finium cura nulla est, iis ex vulgari etiam loquendi usu Eruditorum nomen negamus.

The Sciences, however many can defend this name, all ought either to belong to the more elegant letters or to be called back to philosophy. Indeed under no other designation do we here bring whatever sciences to the scale-pan of examination, except in so far as they serve either for Truth to be found or to be demonstrated, or finally for her to be adorned. For those to whom there is no care for these ends, we deny, even by the vulgar usage of speech, the name of the Learned.

Pulcherrima Veritatis imago lepores spirat tam mirificae suavitatis, quique sensum exigunt tam exquisitum, tam tenerum nobilemque, ut duriores istae turbulentis negotiis agitatae, aut crudioribus voluptatibus lymphatae mentes ne e longiquo quidem eorum gratiam subolfacere possint. Fibras enim corneas, ut cum Persio loquar, sensumque magis stupidum reddunt, quotquot animum nunc huc, nunc illuc distrahunt, cogitationes. Dum mens e contrario quieta longaque meditatione sensus suos omnes in arctius veluti spatium congregans universum hominem ad omnia magis sentientem, aut, quod eodem redit, teneriorem efficit.

The most beautiful image of Truth breathes charms of so marvelous a suavity, and which demand a sense so exquisite, so tender and noble, that those tougher minds, agitated by turbulent affairs or crazed by cruder pleasures, cannot even from afar catch a whiff of their grace. For the thoughts, as many as distract the mind now here, now there, render the fibers horn-like (to speak with Persius) and the sense more stupid; while the mind, on the contrary, being quiet and by long meditation gathering all its senses, as it were, into a narrower space, makes the whole man more sentient to all things—or, which comes to the same, more tender.

Operae pretium me facturum esse confido, si breviter, quid per animi Teneritudinem intellectum velim, doceam; quandoquidem omnis in ea rei cardo versabitur. Duo nobis cogitentur homines, quorum alter objecta quaevis, sive ea laeta fuerint, sive ingrata, animo suo facile complectatur; usque eo ut quid boni, quid mali vilioribus etiam rebus insit, quantocius persentiscat; eaque propter aeque cito gaudio, quam moerore animi perfundatur: ad quae omnia alter immoto plerumque animo consistat sine sensu penitus, gaudio omni tristitiaque vacuus: tum illum Tenerum, hunc Granem recte vocare solemus; Ut ille ergo Tener, qui ad omnia facile mobilis, qui vero immobilis ad ea magis est, Gravis vulgo dicatur. Quod si vero iste facillime moveri non tantum possit, sed & actu ipso sui impotens ad omnia commoveatur, tum Levitatis eum vitio laborare dicimus; uti hic e contrario Pertinax vulgo audit, si non modo natura difficulter mobilis sit, sed et revera difficillime moveatur.

I am confident I shall do something worth the effort, if I briefly teach what I wish to be understood by Tenderness of mind; since the whole hinge of the matter will turn upon it. Let two men be imagined by us, of whom the one readily embraces with his mind whatever objects are set before him, whether they be gladsome or ungrateful; to such a degree that he very quickly perceives what good or what evil is lodged even in meaner things; and on that account he is as quickly suffused with joy as with sorrow of mind: whereas the other for the most part stands with an unmoved mind, utterly without sensation, void of all joy and sadness: then we are wont rightly to call the former Tender, the latter Grave; thus he is called Tender who is easily mobile toward everything, but he who is more immobile with respect to them is commonly called Grave. But if indeed that one not only can be moved most easily, but also in the very act, being powerless over himself, is stirred to everything, then we say that he suffers from the fault of Levity; just as this one on the contrary is commonly called Pertinacious, if he is not only by nature with difficulty mobile, but in fact is moved with very great difficulty.

Equidem fateor, dubitari nullo modo posse, quin illa tenera mentis indoles ab ipsa fibrarum, ex quibus humani corporis tota compago contexta est, teneritudine adeo pendeat, ut, quemadmodum alias demonstratum damus, animus usquequaque talis sit, quale corpus esse deprehendatur. Verum et mortalium nemo, qui sacris nostris rite et ex ordine adscripti sunt, inficias ire tentabit, hanc scilicet Naturae legem, quod a mutata mentis indole totius etiam corporis ratio, omniumque eius virium atque actonium facultas immutetur, aeque sanctam, aeque constantem, aeque inviolabilem esse.

Indeed I confess that it can in no way be doubted that that tender disposition of the mind depends to such a degree upon the very tenderness of the fibers, from which the whole compago of the human body is woven, that, just as we elsewhere give it as demonstrated, the mind is everywhere of such a sort as the body is found to be. But neither will any among mortals who have been duly and in order enrolled to our sacred rites attempt to deny that this law of Nature—namely, that from a changed disposition of mind the constitution of the whole body also, and the faculty of all its forces and actions, is changed—is equally sacred, equally constant, equally inviolable.

Quod si nunc Veritatis non tantum, vel inveniendae, vel demonstrandae, vel denique exornandae rationes, sed totum pariter illud sentiendi et percipiendi negotium curate subducatis, illud, ducibus ratione et experientia, videbitur extra omnem controversiae aleam collocari deberi, animum nimis gravem, pertinacem, rigidum; animum nimis immobilem, nimis austerum, somnolentum nimis, pigrum aut phlegmaticum animum illi sentiendae Dulcedini, illique Solido Veroque perspiciendo prorsum imparem esse, quod detegere in Veritate oportet. Enimvero illud Verum, illud Solidum, illud Dulce, quo foeta Veritas est, tam profunde saepenumero in scientiis latet, ut non nisi acutissmi diuque exercitati sensus usque eo pertingere valeant.

But if now you carefully take into account not only the methods of Truth—whether for being found, or demonstrated, or finally adorned—but likewise the whole business of sensing and perceiving, then, with reason and experience as guides, it will seem that this ought to be placed outside every hazard of controversy: that a mind too heavy, obstinate, rigid; a mind too immobile, too austere, too somnolent, too slothful or phlegmatic, is altogether unequal to that Sweetness to be felt, and to perceiving that Solid and True which must be uncovered in Truth. Indeed that True, that Solid, that Sweet, with which Truth is teeming, lies so deeply, and so often, hidden in the sciences that only the most acute and long-exercised senses are able to reach so far.

Accedit ulterius, quod nec sola Veritatis etiam haec cognitio omnibus numeris perfecta dici possit; quoniam ceteroquin penes plebem quoque, quam a Vero tamen arcemus, multum Veri esset. Namque et ultra haec opus est, ut ipsum non modo Verum illud, sed et ipsam huius Veri imaginem intellectui impressam ab omni parte intueri et spectare possit Philosophus, eamque facili penicillo ductam vividis coloribus Literator exornare. Quae quum ita sint, cereum is in haec omnia flecti animum habear, necesse est, quicunque eruditioni dare.nomen suum voluerit.

Further is added, that not even this cognition of Truth alone can be said to be perfect in all respects; since otherwise there would be much of the True in the common people also, whom, however, we ward off from the True. For beyond these things it is needful that the Philosopher be able to gaze upon and contemplate from every side not only that Very True itself, but also the very image of this Truth impressed upon the intellect, and that the Literator adorn it, drawn with an easy brush, with vivid colors. Since these things are so, it is necessary that whoever will have wished to give his name to erudition have a waxen mind to be bent toward all these things.

Quo fit, ut rarissime, si unquam, homines vobis occurrant vere eruditi, qui duro ferreoque sint ingenio, quorumve corda triplici veluti aere circumdata horreatis: modo ab illis hi distinguantur, qui tam crudos se simulant; vel ex ima plebis faece evecti per ineptae educationis culpam incondito et agresti vivendi genere talem speciem prae se ferunt, vel per melancholici denique morbi, aut etiam vitae foedis libidinibus inquinatae causam taciturna morosae mentis silentia exigunt.

Whence it comes about that most rarely, if ever, men truly erudite occur to you who are of a hard and iron nature, and at whose hearts, as if surrounded with triple bronze, you shudder: provided only that these be distinguished from those who merely feign themselves so raw; or who, lifted from the very dregs of the plebs through the fault of an inept education, by an incondite and rustic manner of living put forth such an appearance; or finally, through the cause of a melancholic disease, or even of a life defiled by foul libidines, exact the silences of a taciturn, morose mind.

Quocirca si illud certum est, uti revera est, aliam esse Ignorantiae, aliam faciem, aliam naturam, aliam causam, alios effectus Veritatis; et hoc fateamini oportet, animum Veritatibus imbutum, si cum pristino caliginoso statu comparetur, penitus immutatum esse. Quidni igitur clarum esset, universam corporis oeconomiam plane nunc quoque aliam esse; quoniam, veluti supra innuebamus, ab animi mutatione corporis quoque mutationem similem sequi, tam certum est, quam quod certissimum. Quare evidens est, quoniam Veritatis studium sine animi quadam teneritudine egregium esse nequit, acutiorem quoque sensum ipsum corpus eo acquirere.

Wherefore, if this is certain, as indeed it is, that Ignorance has one face, one nature, one cause, and Truth another, and other effects; you must also admit this: that a mind imbued with Truths, if compared with its former caliginous state, is thoroughly transformed. Why then should it not be clear that the whole oeconomy of the body is now plainly also different; since, as we hinted above, from a change of the mind a similar change of the body likewise follows—this is as certain as that which is most certain. Wherefore it is evident that, since the pursuit of Truth cannot be excellent without a certain tenderness of mind, the body itself thereby acquires a keener sense.

Mens enim perspicax ingeniumque acutum in rigido inertive corpore, somnium quoddam est, quod nec vel Dii cum ratione cogitare quidem possunt.

For indeed a perspicacious mind and an acute genius in a rigid or inert body is a kind of dream, which not even the gods can rationally conceive.

Altius nunc inquirere non licet, quo modo videlicit fibrillae istae incredibiliter subtiles, quibus mirabiles cerebri machina contexta est, eo tempore agant, si quando animus ideae cuidam paulo curiosius intenditur. Hoc interim innititur firmissimo experientiae fundamento, quo diutius quoque frequentius hae fibrillae a mente meditabunda excitantur, eo fieri acutiores sensus, eo mobiliores tenerioresque. Nec intra solius modo cerebri angustos terminos omnis haec teneritudo continetur, verum ad cordis etiam atque pulmonis ventriculique nobilissima viscera, ut ne aliorum mentionem nunc faciam, extenditur, morbosque in illis, levissimo quovis alio errore accedente, ciet, qui ut probe a paucioribus medicis intelliguntur, ita curantur difficilius.

It is not permitted to inquire more deeply now, namely, in what manner those incredibly subtle little fibrils, by which the marvelous machine of the brain is woven, act at the time whenever the mind is directed a little more curiously to a certain idea. This meanwhile rests upon the firmest foundation of experience: the longer and the more frequently these fibrils are excited by the meditative mind, by so much the senses become more acute, and the more mobile and more tender. Nor is all this tenderness contained within the narrow confines of the brain alone, but it extends also to the most noble viscera of the heart and of the lungs and of the stomach, not to make mention now of others, and it stirs up diseases in them, when any other most slight error supervenes; which, although they are well understood by fewer physicians, are therefore cured with greater difficulty.

Hac corporis sentiendi facultate, hacque animi teneritudine auctis, fit inde primo ut anima actionibus suis omnibus longe aptius perfungatur, deinde etiam ut non agat modo, sed et se agere acutissime sentiat. Quo significatu lepide, se animam suam vidisse, refert Helmontius, insignis superiorum temporum medicus. Nec dissimili adeo ratione celeberrimum Delphici Apollinis oraculum, illud xxxx xxxx, Marcus noster Tullius explicat Tusculanar.

With this faculty of the body for sensing, and with this tenderness of mind increased, it follows first that the soul more aptly discharges all its actions, then also that it not only acts, but also most acutely feels itself to act. In this signification, wittily, Helmontius, a distinguished physician of former times, reports that he saw his own soul. Nor by a much dissimilar rationale does our Marcus Tullius explain, in the Tusculans, the most celebrated oracle of Delphic Apollo, that xxxx xxxx.

Quast. lib. I. Est, inquit,illud quidem vel maximum, ANIMO IPSO ANIMUM VIDERE; et nimirum hanc habet vim praeceptum Apolinis, quo monet, ut se quisque noscat.

Questions, book 1. It is, he says, that indeed the very greatest thing, TO SEE THE SOUL WITH THE SOUL ITSELF; and assuredly the precept of Apollo has this force, whereby he admonishes that each person know himself.

Quo me rem perducturum esse existimatis, Auditores, si id, quod in universum hactenus de omni re literaria evici, singulatim nunc in Literis, uti per excellentiam vocantur, Humanioribus ulterius statuere vellem? Hae enim non rectam modo rationem, non solum animum, imo nec solum etiam corpus ad maiorem teneritudinem efformant, sed omne potius id, omnes illas vires, facultates illas omnes, quibus homines sumus, maiorem in modum acuunt.

To what point do you think I would carry the matter, Auditors, if that which up to now I have established in general concerning every literary matter I should now wish to determine further in the Letters, which, by way of eminence, are called the Humane? For these do not fashion right reason, not only the mind, nay not even the body alone, into greater tenderness, but rather they sharpen, in greater measure, all that—those forces, all those faculties, by which we are human.

Poesis, illa Divum aeque, ac hominum voluptas, Deorum illud idioma, ornamentum religionis, dulceque miseriarum lenimen, Poesis, divina illa poesis quam potens est in ferocissimis hominum mentibus emolliendis! Nobilissimum hoc ingenui otii & quietis honestamentum ad bene constituendas respublicas, ad feros hominum mores in rationis gyrum redigendos, ad Deorum commehdandum cultum, ad mansuetudinem, generositatem, &, ut paucis omnia complectar, ad humanitatem veram promovendam excellentissimum omni tempore, cui non par aliud deprehenditur, habitum instrumentum est. Quot Orphei, tot Theologi.

Poetry, that delight of gods equally and of men, that idiom of the gods, the ornament of religion, and the sweet solace of miseries, Poetry, that divine poetry—how powerful it is in softening the most ferocious minds of men! This most noble honorable adornment of liberal leisure & quiet, for well-constituting republics, for bringing the wild manners of men back into the gyre of reason, for commending the worship of the gods, for gentleness, for generosity, &, to embrace all in few words, for promoting true humanity, is an instrument most excellent at every time, one to which no other equal is found. As many Orpheuses, so many theologians.

Inculta terra est, quae nullum Poetam alit.

Uncultivated is the land which nourishes no Poet.

Poeticae Oratoriam nunc artem adiungatis, quam reliquarum omnium Reginam merito dixerim; quae tum etiam, si nihil velle, si iubere nihil, nihil mandare videtur, si nil nisi gratissima verborum lenocinia, nil nisi mellitos modo verborum globulos dictionesque sesamo sparsas et papavere adhibet, tacitam tamen quandam et absolutam potestatem in hominum animos exercet, regnumque gerit, cui, ut quisque inculto magis est ingenio, ita quidem obloqui vehementius, reluctari vero illudque evertere nemo unquam mortalium deprehensus est.

Now add to Poetics the art of Oratory, which I would deservedly call the Queen of all the rest; which then even, if it seems to will nothing, to command nothing, to mandate nothing, if it employs nothing except the most pleasing blandishments of words, nothing except honeyed little globules of words and phrases sprinkled with sesame and poppy, nevertheless exercises a certain silent and absolute power over the minds of men, and bears a sovereignty to which, the more uncultivated one’s natural talent is, the more vehemently indeed one is wont to gainsay; yet as for resisting it and actually overthrowing it, no mortal has ever been found.

Iusto audacius his temporibus divini nobis Homeri sigmentum esse videtur, quando de fascinante illa Circes virgula commemorat, vi illam dotatam fuisse, unicum modo, voluptarium scilicet affectum in omnium animis excitandi. Nec minus celebratum in Saule, si quando ira aestuabat, placando Davidis artificium est. At Eloquentiae propria haec dos est, ut non istos modo, sed omnes, quotquot velit, animi motus in omnium mortalium pectoribus, quousque libuerit, intendat, auctosque dein pro suo iterum lubitu sub iugum rationis revocet et obedientiae.

In these times it seems to us rather more boldly than is just that a fragment of divine Homer, when he commemorates that fascinating little wand of Circe, asserts it to have been endowed with the power of arousing in all minds only a single passion, namely the voluptuary. No less celebrated is David’s art in the case of Saul, for soothing him whenever anger was seething. But this is the proper dowry of Eloquence: that not only these, but all motions of the mind, as many as it wishes, it may stretch taut in the breasts of all mortals for as long as it pleases, and then, once augmented, recall them again, at its own pleasure, under the yoke of reason and obedience.

Quam ego quidem ob causam maius in nullo artifice, quam in Poetis et Oratoribus, virtutis studium exigere soleo; quod quoniam eorum multi susque deque habent, fit inde ut Poetae quidem omne animorum robur infringere et enervare, Oratores vero ad tumultus sive religionis specie, sive alio praetextu excitandos, aptissimi esse vulgo et recte putentur. Quos ideo utrosque in bene ordinata republica compescendos et intra modestiae decorique cancellos coercendos esse, semper arbitrati sunt, quibus publicae rei salus curae unquam cordique fuit.

For which reason indeed I am accustomed to exact a greater zeal for virtue from no artist than from Poets and Orators; since many of them hold it indifferently, it comes about that Poets are commonly and rightly thought to break and enervate all the strength of souls, while Orators are most apt for exciting tumults, whether under the guise of religion or under some other pretext. Wherefore both of them in a well-ordered republic have always been judged by those to whom the safety of the commonwealth was ever a care and at heart to be curbed and kept within the barriers of modesty and decorum.

Istis breviter sic excussis, nam omnia pro dignitare persequi, neque temporis patitur ratio, neque necessitas exigit, id nunc satis patere posse puto, et has divinas artes in augenda, quam ita vocavimus, animorum teneritudine potentissimas esse.

These things thus briefly examined, for to pursue everything according to its dignity neither does the consideration of time permit, nor does necessity demand, I now think it can be sufficiently evident, that these divine arts are most potent in augmenting, as we have so called it, the tenderness of souls.

Inde adeo fieri solet, ut quamprimum orientis Veritatis lux tetras ignorantiae tenebras dissipare inceperit, quantocius etiam truculenti populorum mores detumescant; religiones omnes fiant amiciores; Misericordia et Generositas, cumque Gratia Comitas Lenitasque, atque adeo similes virtutes ad clavum rerum gerendarum confideant; ipsa denique bella minore cum crudelitate absolvantur.

From this, indeed, it is wont to come about that, as soon as the light of dawning Truth has begun to dissipate the gloomy darkness of ignorance, the truculent manners of peoples also subside the more quickly; all religions become more amicable; Mercy and Generosity, together with Grace, Courtesy, and Gentleness, and indeed kindred virtues, take confidence at the helm of the management of affairs; finally, wars themselves are concluded with less cruelty.

Nemine igitur, nisi Caio Mario, homine factioso, rustico, saevo, inexplebili, qui sanguine, qui caedibus omnique calamitatum genere totam rempublicam implevit, et quicunque se illi similem praestiterit, digna haec vox est: Non placere sibi Literas. Infelices, qui ex anima sententia Marianum hoc dictum suum facere possunt! Equidem Princeps ille incomparabilis Antoninus Philosophus similiter ad bonam suam fortunam referebat xxxxxxxxxxx, quod et ab arte Rhetorica, et Poetica et omni denique cultioris styli exercitio abstinuerit.

Therefore, to no one, except to Gaius Marius—a factious, rustic, savage, insatiable man, who with blood, with slaughters, and with every kind of calamities filled the whole republic and whoever shall have shown himself similar to him—is this a worthy utterance: “That Letters do not please him.” Unhappy are they who, from the sentiment of their soul, can make this Marian saying their own! Indeed that incomparable Prince, Antoninus the Philosopher, similarly attributed to his good fortune xxxxxxxxxxx, that he had abstained both from the art of Rhetoric and from Poetic art, and finally from every exercise of a more cultivated style.

Sed commodam in sequentibus hanc causam reddit: Quod illis fortasse studiis totum animum consecrasset, si quidem feliciter se progredi sensisset; tantum nimirum temporis reipublicae detrahere nolens, quantum his impendendum exercitiis esse putabat. Non igitur hae displicebant illi literae; sed temporis avarus evitabat eas, quas odio habere non poterat.

But in what follows he gives this suitable cause: that he would perhaps have consecrated his whole mind to those studies, if indeed he had felt himself advancing felicitously; being unwilling, to be sure, to detract so much time from the Republic as he thought must be expended upon these exercises. Therefore those Letters did not displease him; but, a miser of time, he avoided them, which he could not hold in hatred.

Ceterum latere praestantissimum Imperatorem nequibat, in mitiganda gentium barbarie earumque societate qualibet rite ordinanda literarum usum prorsus excellentissimum esse; ita quidem ut semper sine omni dubio statuere queamus, omnem penitus barbariem ex regione quadam exulare, dummodo certo constet, communem doctrinarum cultum, ideoque et animorum illic teneritudinem locum habere.

Moreover, it could not be hidden from the most preeminent Emperor, that in the mitigating of the barbarity of the nations and in the duly ordering of their association of whatever kind, the use of letters is altogether most excellent; so indeed that we may always, without any doubt, determine that all barbarism is utterly banished from a certain region, provided it is certain that a common cultivation of doctrines, and therefore also a tenderness of minds, has place there.

Animorum haec teneritudino, seu quod eodum redit, corporis hic maior sensus Moralitatis, ut ita loquar, tam fida mensura est, ut actiones hominum, sive bonae illae, sive malae esse videantur, ex vero nequaquam metiri, illisque nec Virtutis, nec Criminis nomen adscribere queamus, nisi haec normae loco adsumta fuerit teneritudo. Singularis haec est excellentium hominem, sive virtibus illi, sive sceleribus emineant, proprietas; quum in fungum durumve stipitem bonitatis honor, aut opprobrium malignitatis minime cadant. Solus tener animus pietatis capax est, atque sceleris.

This tenderness of souls, or, which comes to the same thing, this greater bodily sense of Morality, so to speak, is so faithful a measure that we can by no means truly measure the actions of men, whether they seem to be good or evil, nor can we assign to them the name of Virtue or of Crime, unless this tenderness has been assumed as the norm. This is a singular property of excellent men, whether they stand out by virtues or by crimes; since upon a mushroom or a hard stump the honor of goodness or the opprobrium of malignity can in no wise fall. Only a tender mind is capable of piety, and of crime.

Pigri, phlegmatici, immobiles animi neutrius participes fieri possunt: nihil, si proprie loquendum est, mali faciunt, sed et boni nihil quidquam. Numerus sunt et ad consumendas fruges nati.

The sluggish, the phlegmatic, spirits immobile cannot become participants in either: they do, if we are to speak properly, nothing of evil, but also nothing at all of good. They are a mere number and born to consume the fruits.

Ergo sensuum istud augmentum pro summo, cui non par aliud, reipublicae bono habendum esset; si quidem vel naturalis hominum conditio, vel adolescentum in lubrico iuventutis versantium sapientior educatio, vel praepositorum denique quotidiana exempla virtuti potius, quam luxui et vanissimae levitati velificarentur. Nunc vero quum omnia in peius ruant, liberis hominum actionibus ad errorem, perinde uti corpora ad telluris meditullium, naturali veluti impulsu tendentibus; fieri inde aliter nequit, quam ut cum hoc sensu, cum hac teneritudine aucta minores quidem, quae societatem omnem exornant, incrementa virtutes capiant: maiores autem illae, ut Castitas, Temperatia, Fortitudo, Laborum Tolerantia non item; sed opposita quidem vitia faciem suam plurimum mutent, virtutibus nempe, istis minoribus, tamquam adulterinis coloribus quibusdam incrustatam; sed, tanto simul maius quoque regnum sibi parent. Quotquot horum sunt, totidem veluti Sirenes concinunt, quarum tanto periculosior cantus, quanto auditus, id est, universus sensus, acutior est et tenerior.

Therefore this augmentation of the senses would have to be held as the highest good of the republic, to which no other is equal; if indeed either the natural condition of men, or the wiser education of adolescents turning about on the slippery slope of youth, or finally the daily examples of superiors, were to be set full-sail toward Virtue rather than toward Luxury and most vain Levity. But now, since all things rush for the worse, with the free actions of men tending to error, just as bodies to the earth’s mid-center, by a kind of natural impulse; it cannot hence be otherwise than that, with this sense, with this tenderness augmented, the lesser virtues indeed—which adorn the whole society—gain increments; but the greater ones, such as Chastity, Temperance, Fortitude, Tolerance of Labors, do not likewise: rather, the opposite vices greatly change their face, encrusted, namely, with these lesser virtues as with certain adulterine colors; and at the same time they also prepare for themselves so much the greater a kingdom. As many as these are, just so many Sirens as it were sing in concert, whose song is the more perilous, the sharper and more tender the hearing—that is, the entire sense—is.

Plumbeus enim homo ad magna vitia ineptus est.

For the leaden man is inept for great vices.

Videri quidem prima fronte potest, quasi divina illa sapientiae praecepta, quibus hominum mentes eruditio imbuit, totidem sint ad virtutem incitamenta, vitiorum irritamentis, illorumque veluti oculiferis opposita. Verum enim vero quotusquisque arbitraris, pulcherrimam boni speciem plerisque mortalium prae infucato vitiorum colore placituram esse, nae tu hominem hominem nondum omnino nosti.

It can indeed seem at first blush, as though those divine precepts of wisdom, with which erudition imbues the minds of men, were just so many incitements to virtue, set in opposition to the irritants of vices, and, as it were, eye‑bearing against them. But in very truth—how many do you suppose—will the most beautiful aspect of the good be more pleasing to most mortals than the unpainted color of vices? Verily, you do not yet altogether know man, man.

Addite praeterea, longe paucissimos homines prudenti et fevera lectione usque adeo mitigari, ut sapientiae praeceptis debito modo undecunque collectis turbida desideria rite componere adsuescant; Dum muti e contrario per ineptum librariae rei usum mentem aliunde iam satis superque aegram ulterius infringunt, quam non admodum validae, imo febriculosae suae frigidaeque Philosophiae ope umbratici dein Doctores frustra restituere annituntur. Quam equidem ob causam rectissime apud Thucydidem li. II. hoc modo sensisse Pericles nobis videtur: xxxxxxx. Ignorantia, inquit, audaciam, id est, animum ab omni levitate longissime remotum, ratiocinatio vero, seu mediocris tantum rationis vis, timiditatem adfert, et, cuius assecla timor est, levitatem.

Add, moreover, that by prudent and severe reading very few men are softened to such a degree that, with the precepts of wisdom duly gathered from everywhere, they grow accustomed rightly to compose their turbulent desires; while many, on the contrary, through an inept use of the bookish business, further shatter a mind already from other quarters all too sick, which the umbratic Doctors then strive in vain to restore by the aid of their not very strong—nay, feverish and frigid—Philosophy. For which reason, it seems to us that Pericles very rightly felt thus in Thucydides, Book 2: xxxxxxx. “Ignorance,” he says, “brings audacity—that is, a spirit very far removed from every levity—whereas ratiocination, or only a mediocre force of reason, brings timidity, and levity, of which fear is the follower.”

Levititatem nil adeo arcet, quam Ignorantia, et mascula, ad quam paucissimi perveniunt, Sapientia. Quemadmodum etiam summus ille naturalium scientarum instaurator iudicabat Franciscus Baco de Verulamio, modice nimirum delibatam Philosophiam longius nos a DEO abducere, exhaustam vero penitus nos propius adducere DEO.

Nothing so much keeps levity at bay as Ignorance and manly Wisdom, to which very few attain. Just as that greatest restorer of the natural sciences, Francis Bacon of Verulam, also judged: that Philosophy, to be sure, when only slightly tasted, leads us farther away from GOD, but, when utterly drained, truly brings us nearer to GOD.

Vi igitur eorum, quae breviter hactenus, sed curate tamen, ni fallor, extricavi, dictum hoc animis vestris, Auditores Honoratissimi, iterum iterumque inculcare pace vestra liceat: Illa, quae ab Eruditione augetur,animorum Teneritudo summas mortalium virtutes Temperantiam, Fortitudinem, Castitatem, Industriam imminuit, iterque parat ad vitia illis opposita Imbecillitate, Lipidem, Luxum, Levitatem: DIXI.

By the force, therefore, of those things which I have hitherto briefly, yet carefully, unless I am mistaken, untangled, let it be permitted, with your leave, to inculcate this dictum into your minds, Most Honored Hearers, again and again: That Tenderness of souls, which is increased by Erudition, diminishes the highest virtues of mortals—Temperance, Fortitude, Chastity, Industry—and prepares a path toward the vices opposed to them: Imbecility, Libido, Luxury, Levity: I HAVE SPOKEN.

Dissertatio altera

Second Dissertation

Habita in inauguratione
Viri Eberhardi Tilingii

Delivered at the inauguration
of the man Eberhard Tilingius

Me vero minime latere potest, non publici adeo saporis fuisse, quem hesterno die vobis sermonem habui. Semper enim recordor, non sapori, sed usui duntaxat, publico me omnem meam industriam, aut si quid in me ingenii est, unice dedicasse. Singularem tamen in modum gaudeo, quod neque vobis displicere, et assensum vestrum mihi comparare potuerim.

To be sure, it cannot in the least be hidden from me that the discourse which I held for you yesterday was not so much to the public savor. For I always recall that I have dedicated uniquely to the public, not to savor but solely to use, all my industry, or, if there is in me anything of genius. Nevertheless, I rejoice in a singular manner that it did not displease you, and that I was able to procure your assent.

Quapropter eiusdem me sententiae adeo tenacem hodie deprehendetis, ut eam nunc clarioribus adhuc ex ipso rerum eventu petitis argumentis ulterius demonstrare, illisque, qui bonam mentem amant, quique cum insanientibus furere neque pulchrum, neque necesse habent, eam de meliore nota commendare sim allaboratus; dum interea etiam atque etiam opera a me dabitur, ut maiore adhuc brevitatis studio vestram mihi benevolentiam rursus acquiram. Valde enim mihi incongruum vidtur, statim in principio orationis auditorum favorem conceptis veluti formulis pacisci velle, quem disertissimus utcunque orator non nisi sermone finito potest.

Wherefore you will find me today so tenacious of the same opinion, that I now further demonstrate it with still clearer arguments sought from the very outcome of things, and that I have been at pains to commend it, of a better mark, to those who love good sense, and who hold it neither fair nor necessary to rage with the raving; while in the meantime effort will again and again be given by me, that with an even greater study of brevity I may once more acquire your benevolence. For it seems to me very incongruous, straightway at the beginning of an oration, to wish to bargain for the favor of the auditors by, as it were, pre-conceived formulas—a favor which the most eloquent orator, however eloquent, cannot obtain except when the discourse is finished.

Heri vobis abunde, ni fallor, demonstrandum dedi, eam esse eruditionis omnis indolem, ut ad damnosissimam animi levitatem, vitiaque adeo inde pendentia, homines impellat: id, inquam, quum ex hominis ipsius, tum ex scientiarum etiam natura et ingenio satis superque evici. Restat, ut idem illud evidentis etiam experientiae ope certissimaque historiarum fide prorsus confirmem.

Yesterday I gave you, unless I am deceived, an abundant demonstration, that such is the disposition of all erudition as to impel men toward the most ruinous levity of mind, and to vices so dependent thereon: this, I say, I proved more than enough both from the nature of man himself and also from the nature and genius of the sciences. It remains that I altogether confirm that same point by the help of evident experience and by the most certain faith of histories.

Germanorum itaque antiqua fortitudo, singulare illud temperentiae, quam rarior vini abusus elidere non potuit, et castitatis studium (modo studium id vocare licet, quod sine studio ab ipse fere natura habebant) nemini vestrum admirabile videri non potest, cui veterum perlecta monumenta sunt, Romanorum in primis, alienae tamen laudi tanto magis invidentium, quanto patriae gloriae curiosiores erant. Cum istis vero si hodiernos Germanos comparaveretis, quantam, bone Deus! discrepantiam offendetis!

Therefore the ancient bravery of the Germans, that singular temperance, which the more infrequent abuse of wine could not dash down, and the study of chastity (if only it is permitted to call that a “study” which they possessed, almost from nature itself, without study) cannot fail to seem admirable to any of you who have read through the monuments of the ancients, of the Romans especially, who yet begrudged another’s praise the more, the more they were solicitous for their fatherland’s glory. But if you should compare present-day Germans with those, how great, good God! a discrepancy you will encounter!

Eruditionem nostris hominibus, ingenii polituram, morumque mirificam quandam gratiam ex voto nunc cedere, quotusquisque est harum rerum aequus iudex qui inficiari id ausit? Magnanimitatem vero, et iuxta cum temperantia sobrietatem, fortidudinem, pietatemque, quae omnia in rudi maiorum nostrorum populo propriam veluti sedem sibi legisse visa sunt, haud raro desideraveritis.

That erudition among our men, the polish of genius, and a certain wondrous grace of manners now turn out according to wish—how many are there, fair judges of these matters, who would dare to deny it? Magnanimity, however, and, together with temperance, sobriety, fortitude, and piety—all of which seemed to have chosen for themselves, in the rough people of our ancestors, as it were their proper seat—you have not seldom missed.

Sed odiosa quum sint hodiernorum populorum exempla, ad fortissimas antiquae Graeciae, easque incultas adhuc nationes vos reducam. In argumentum nunc stupendam illam Cynaegiri fortitudinem non vocabo, qui manibus primum, illis denique amputatis, mordicus naviculam, quam navem enim antiqui scriptores recte vocant, hodie inepte ita dixeris, per aliqout momenta retinere conatus est. Tacebo nunc etiam insignem Milonis istius Crotoniatis virtutem, qui molles Sybaritas praelio victos delevit, cuique crassissimas ligna manibus divellere lusus erat.

But since the examples of today’s peoples are odious, I will bring you back to the very brave, and as yet uncultivated, nations of ancient Greece. As evidence I will not now summon that stupendous fortitude of Cynaegirus, who at first with his hands, and when these at last were amputated, with his teeth, tried for several moments to hold fast a little ship— which the ancient writers rightly call a “ship”; today you would ineptly say it so. I will also now be silent about the distinguished prowess of that Milo of Croton, who destroyed the soft Sybarites, conquered in battle, and for whom to tear apart with his hands the very thickest pieces of wood was a game.

Has, inquam, similesque singulorum hominum res gestas, neque temporis, nec instituti etiam ratio altius repetere finit. Enimvero in universa olim Graecia literis nondum exculta constantia, gravitas, fortitudo, magnanimitas, temperantia tam altas radices egerant, ut ab ortu literarum non nisi post longam demum annorum seriem antiqua haec gloria penitus evanesceret.

These, I say, and similar deeds of individual men, neither the limits of time nor even the plan of the undertaking allows me to trace further back. Indeed, in all Greece of old, not yet cultivated by letters, constancy, gravity, fortitude, magnanimity, and temperance had driven such deep roots that, from the rise of letters, not until after a long series of years did this ancient glory wholly evanesce.

Namque post ipsa adeo Anacreontis et Saphus, tenerrimorum periculosorumque Poetarum, tempora mirabiles adhuc illas cum Dario Xerxeque pugnas Graeci commisere, in quibus omnis veluti eorum fortitudo masculique animi vis exhausta esse videtur: ita quidem ut non diu post infelici petulantia, quae levissimorum hominum epidemicus quasi morbus esse solet, agitati in propria viscera saevire, seque mutuo atterere, hinc peregrinum sibi iugum arcessere atque domari, postremo omnes se literarum studiis dedere, imbelles postremo levesque homines fieri inciperent. Quo quidem pacto ineffabilem quandam morum eligantiam sibi comparaverunt, qua Romani suo tempore ita fascinati erant, perinde uti ridiculis saepe Gallorum quorundam gesticulationibus Germani trahimur, animumque porro variis Philosophiae dictaminibus non infeliciter quidem mitigare annisi sunt: verum ad tantam simul levitatem degenerarunt, ut quum nimium Iuvenali videretur, Graecos eos vocare, Graeculos cum contemtu dixerit, Ciceronis exemplo, qui eorum nominatim iudices Graeculos vocare non erubuit.

For indeed after the very times of Anacreon and Sappho, the most tender and most perilous of Poets, the Greeks still engaged those marvelous battles with Darius and Xerxes, in which all, as it were, their bravery and the force of a masculine spirit seems to have been exhausted: so indeed that not long after, agitated by an unhappy petulance, which is wont to be as it were an epidemic disease of the lightest men, they began to rage against their own vitals, and to wear one another down, then to summon upon themselves a foreign yoke and to be tamed, finally all to give themselves to the studies of letters, at last to begin to become unwarlike and frivolous men. By which method indeed they procured for themselves a certain ineffable elegance of manners, by which the Romans in their time were so fascinated, just as we Germans are often drawn by the ridiculous gesticulations of certain Gauls, and furthermore they strove, not unsuccessfully indeed, to soften the mind by various dictates of Philosophy: but at the same time they degenerated into so great levity, that, when it seemed too much to Juvenal to call them Greeks, he with contempt called them “Greeklings,” after the example of Cicero, who did not blush to call their judges in particular “Greeklings.”

Par fere Romanorum imperio fatum incubabat. Illi quidem primis temporibus, quum omnium paene literarum ignari essent, gravitate, fortitudine, religione, labore, frugalitate vix sibi pares habuere; ut mirum non sit, tam insolita inter illos virtutum monstra, Horatium illum Coclitem, Mutium Scaevolam, atque adeo excellentissimam illam viraginem Claeliam eminuisse. At posteaquam Graeca apud illos literae adoleverant, longe illis numerosissima fortitudinis exempla; donec, Iulio Caesare per Brutum, et Bruto per se ipsum interfectis, antiquum illud Italorum robur in dies decrescerent, nominisque tandem et Romanae togae ipsi foede obliti in effoeminatissimam levitatem prolaberentur.

A fate almost equal was brooding over the empire of the Romans. They indeed in their earliest times, when they were ignorant of almost all letters, by gravity, fortitude, religion, labor, frugality scarcely had equals for themselves; so that it is no marvel that such unusual prodigies of virtues stood out among them—Horatius that Cocles, Mucius Scaevola, and even that most excellent virago Claelia. But after Greek letters had grown up among them, they still had by far the most numerous examples of fortitude; until, Julius Caesar having been slain by Brutus, and Brutus by himself, that ancient robustness of the Italians decreased day by day, and at last, foully forgetful of their very name and the Roman toga, they slid down into a most effeminate levity.

Equidem nihil quidquam addubito, fore vestrum plerosque, Auditores, qui ingentem hanc Graecorum, Romanorumque praecipue levitatem, si non maiore, aequo tamen iure ab insanis istis divitiis derivandam esse putant, cum quibus Asiatica videlicet luxuria a superbis illis gloriaque sua paene ebriis victoribus recepta eos veluti pestilenti quodam sidere afflavit, seque subacta tandem Asia a victoribus Romanis usque adeo vindicavit, ut non immerito quis dixerit, sicut Capua Hannibali Cannae, sic Asiam Romanis Hannibalem fuisse.

Indeed I do not at all doubt, that most of you, Auditors, think that this immense levity of the Greeks, and especially of the Romans, if not with greater, yet with equal right, must be derived from those insane riches, with which Asian luxury, having been received by those proud victors almost intoxicated with their own glory, breathed upon them as with a certain pestilential star; and that Asia, at last subdued by the Roman victors, so far avenged herself, that one could not without reason say: just as Capua was a Cannae to Hannibal, so Asia was a Hannibal to the Romans.

Sed tamen luxus non modo, quantumvis immensus, sine tali levitate omnino consistere potest: verum et maximas praeterea divitias per multa secula, easque procul omni luxu, procul omni levitate ab integris populis possideri potuisse, relatum legimus. Quemadmodum anbitiosissimi sic olim Carthaginensis medias inter divitias in ipso etiam incredibili luxu nihilominus ad crudelitatem usque graves, seu pertinaces potius erant. Parique ratione maiores nostri Peruanam quondam gentem divitiis affluentem, sed rudem omnis scientiae, ignaramque cuiusvis nostratium luxus, omnique levitate vacuam reperere.

But yet luxury, not only, however immense, cannot at all subsist without such levity: but we also read reported that very great riches, moreover, through many ages, and those far from all luxury, far from all levity, could be possessed by upright peoples. Just as the most ambitious Carthaginians of old, in the very midst of riches, even in incredible luxury itself, nevertheless were weighty unto cruelty, or rather were stubborn. And by a like reckoning our ancestors once found the Peruvian nation abounding in riches, but raw in all knowledge, and ignorant of any of our native luxury, and void of all levity.

Certissimo, si quidquam hic video, id documento est, non tam ab Asiaticis divitiis, quam a scientiarum potius cultu ad tantam postremo mollitiem iuxta cum Graecis redactos Romanos fuisse. Ita profecto se res habet: ut ipsa quidem inopia nunquam animum animum masculum, ita nec divitiae levem eum et effoeminatum faciunt.

Most certain—if I see anything here—this is proof that the Romans were reduced at last to such mollity, in company with the Greeks, not so much by Asiatic riches as rather by the cultivation of the sciences. Thus indeed the matter stands: just as indigence itself never makes a masculine spirit, so neither do riches make it light and effeminate.

Vestra igitur pace, Auditores eruditissimi, novissime vobis acclamo, Levitatis, qua in republica nullum successu temporis damnosius vitium datur, vanissime inquam, Levititatis mater Eruditio est.

With your leave, therefore, most erudite Auditors, lastly I proclaim to you, of Levity, than which in the republic no vice is more damaging in the course of time, most vainly, I say, Erudition is the mother.

Optimane ergo mortalium tam diu conditio censebitur, donec procul omni doctrina animo nulla cultura roborato vivamus? Prouti sanctissimos maximque pios nos esse, dum corpore sumus infirmo atque aegroto, Caius olim Plinius secundus arbitrabatur, vir perfectissimi ingenii, ipso Socrate prope omni laude maior, quique sui similem habuit neminem, nisi unum forsitan Petrum Cunaeum sanctissimum virum, cuiusque summam animi pulchritudinem ego quidem sic exosculor, uti variam eius amplamque eruditionem cum Literatoribus Iurisconsulti admirari solent et Theologie.

Therefore, will the condition of mortals be deemed best only so long as we live far from all doctrine, with the mind strengthened by no culture? Just as Gaius Pliny Secundus once thought us most holy and most pious when in body we are weak and sickly—a man of most perfect genius, almost greater than Socrates himself in every praise, and who had none like himself, unless perhaps one, Peter Cunaeus, a most holy man—whose supreme beauty of soul I for my part so devoutly kiss, as both the Literati, the Jurisconsults, and the Theologians are wont to admire his manifold and ample erudition.

Satiusne ergo esset, literarum studia solis tantum illis hominibus relinquere, quibus ea nimirum demandata Sparta est, quocunque demum modo eas in reipublicae usum adhibere; ceteros autem omnes ab illis arcere, ut in vulgus ne propagentur? Aegyptiorum videlicet exemplo, qui ad res maxime arcanas scientiam omnem referebant, nemini quippe, nisi, praeter sacerdotes, Regibus modo eorumque filiis patentem: quam fere eandem etiam normam Indorum Bramines hodiedum sequi solent.

Would it therefore be better to leave the studies of letters only to those men alone to whom, indeed, that “Sparta” has been entrusted, to apply them, in whatever way, to the use of the Republic; but to keep all the rest away from them, lest they be propagated among the populace? Namely after the example of the Egyptians, who referred all knowledge to matters most arcane, open to no one, in fact, except—besides the priests—only to the Kings and their sons: which nearly the same norm the Brahmins of the Indians are still accustomed today to follow.

Suntne denique aterrimo carbone notandi eruditi, qui insaniente sua sapientia extra prudentiae et rationis gyrum agitati tam tetro vitio remplubicam inquinavere?

Are the erudite, then, to be marked with the blackest charcoal, who, their wisdom raving, driven outside the gyre of prudence and reason, have polluted the commonwealth with so foul a vice?

Quod si nunc aequi harum quaestionum arbitri esse velitis, ingentia haec incommoda cum aliisliterarum commodis rite componere, dein vero duo haec accurate cogitare vos oportet, primo non nisis ipsius tamen huius eruditionis ope periculosi istius mali causas nos detexisse; dein etiam hominem multa eruditione subactum facile medicinam illi invenire posse.

But if now you should wish to be equitable arbiters of these questions, you must duly reconcile these enormous disadvantages with the other advantages of letters, and then indeed carefully consider these two things: first, that we have detected the causes of that perilous evil only by the aid of this very erudition itself; then also that a man disciplined by much erudition can easily find a remedy for it.

Horrendum in humana societate et ingens monstrum ignorantia est, fons detestandae crudelitatis immensarumque calamitatum. Harum miserarium imas etiam radices evulsit, qua patet, eruditio. Quis sanae mentis igitur glandibus rursus vesci cuperet, inventis frugibus?

Horrendous in human society, and a huge monster, is ignorance, the fount of detestable cruelty and of immense calamities. Erudition, as is evident, has torn up even the deepest roots of these miseries. Who, of sound mind, therefore, would wish to feed on acorns again, once fruits have been discovered?

Sed eadem, proh dolor, eruditio aliis rursus malis viam patefecit, non minus periculosis; quorum quasi familiam Levitas animique muliebris quaedam mollities ducit; quae ut mentes virtutibus innutritas non attingit, ita in rempublicam semper tantum semidoctam maximo cum detrimento redundat.

But the same erudition, alas, has again laid open the way to other evils, no less perilous; whose, as it were, family is led by Levity and a certain womanish softness of spirit; which, just as it does not touch minds nourished by virtues, so it always redounds upon the commonwealth, ever only half-learned, with the greatest detriment.

Mollitiei, quod crudelitati oppositum vitium est, omni opera obviam eundum ab illis praecipue, quibus animorum ad meliorem frugem formandorum sanctissima provincia commissa est. Illi quidem si paulo curiosius secum perpenderent, tantum religionis, quantum exulceratis his temporibus longe lateque serpit, conremtum, non tam ex crudelitate, quae idololatriae ut plurimum se mancipavit, quam ex levitate potius enasci, hoc, inquam, si serio secum reputarent, maiore, ni fallor, industria in id incumberent, ut magis frugalis, ut sobria magis et severior iuventutis educatio instituretur, quam ipsi quidem domestico in suis, seque etiam ipsis, exemplo pulchre illustrarent. Grandisonus enim utcunque et sine specimine tragicus boatus inanis plerumque sonus est, qui plerumque in ventum, in aera, elementum quippe suum, evanescit.

Softness, which is the vice opposed to cruelty, must with all effort be met head‑on, especially by those to whom the most holy charge has been committed of shaping souls to a better fruit. If they would but weigh with themselves a little more carefully that so much “religion” as, in these ulcerated times, creeps far and wide is contaminated, springing not so much from cruelty, which for the most part has enslaved itself to idolatry, as rather from levity—this, I say, if they would seriously consider with themselves—they would, unless I err, apply themselves with greater industry to this: that a more frugal, more sober, and more severe education of youth be instituted, which they themselves would handsomely illustrate by a domestic example in their own household, and even in themselves. For a grand‑sounding and, without a specimen, tragic bellow is for the most part an empty sound, which for the most part vanishes into the wind, into the air—indeed its own element.

Ad hunc scilicet finem tota nostra tendit oratio, ut educationem commendemus diligentiorem severioremque. Qui ab ignorantia sunt, duros et efferatos mores Literarum studia mitigent! Quam scientiae faciunt, Levitatem Temperantia caveat Frugalitas, Labor, Sapientia!

To this, namely, end our whole discourse tends: that we commend an education more diligent and more severe. Let the studies of Letters soften the harsh and savage manners of those who come from ignorance! And, as much as the sciences effect, let Levity be guarded against by Temperance, by Frugality, by Labor, by Wisdom!

Mea mens te, Pater, unum veneratur:
Age, virtus, et ad ipsos Garamantas,
Et ad Indos proocul errans, stupefactis revocetur!

My mind venerates you alone, Father:
Come, virtue, and to the Garamantes themselves,
And to the Indians, far wandering, let it be called back, with them astonished!

Procul omnis, precor, absit levitatis.
Sceleratae procul absit nota vitae.
Placeamus vacuatis animorum tibi claustris.

Far off, I pray, let all levity be absent.
Far off let the mark of a wicked life be absent.
Let us placate you with the vacated cloisters of our spirits.

Sacra nobis tua virtus sit imago,
Sacra nostrae sit imago probitatis.
Pudeat nos muliebris Vitiorum dominatus.

Let your virtue be for us a sacred image,
Let there be a sacred image of our probity.
Let us be ashamed of the womanish domination of Vices.

Amor aethrae radianti face surgat;
Tot amores abiget sic procul atros
Amores insons quoque terrae, simul insons quoque nostri.

Let Love rise with the radiant torch of the aether;
thus let it drive far away so many dark loves—
Love innocent also of the earth, likewise innocent also of us.

Amor aethrae, Patris ingens amor alti
Prope voces ad inanes tenuatus,
Tumidorum modo adornans blateronum vaga dicta,

Love of the aether, the immense love of the lofty Father
attenuated nearly to empty voices,
in the manner of the tumid blatherers, adorning vague sayings,

Referendum tibi cultum, precor, ornet,
DEUS omnem; tibi qui nos adamatos
Facit, idem faciat nos et amantes aliorum.

May the worship to be rendered to you, I pray, be adorned,
GOD all; who makes us enamored of you,
may the same also make us lovers of others.

Nec in arae strue quidquam, nec acerrae
Opis unquam, bene scimus, reperiri,
Sed Amanti patefacta reserari fore coelum.

Nor in the altar’s pile anything, nor in the censer
Of Ops ever, we know well, to be found,
But for the Lover heaven, laid open, will be unbarred.

DIXI

I HAVE SPOKEN

En brevem vobis, Auditores Nobilissimi, et, ut spero, utilem istius morbi, qui tot hominibus tam graviter incubat, imaginem; cuique tollendo operam quoque suam, ut plane confidimus, daturus est Vir doctissimus et in primis ingenuus, qui collegium nunc nostrum aucturus, et in posterum haud parum etiam condecoraturus est.

Behold for you, Most Noble Auditors, a brief and, as I hope, useful image of that disease, which weighs so gravely upon so many men; for the removing of which a most learned and, above all, ingenuous Man, as we plainly trust, will also devote his efforts, who is now about to augment our college, and for the future also to adorn it not a little.

Igitur ut cathedram hanc superiorem conscendas, Vir plurimum Reverende, rogaris a me peramanter.

Therefore, Most Reverend Sir, you are most affectionately requested by me to ascend this higher chair.

Videte Theologum, Auditores Honoratissimi, Theologum videte pium, doctum, prudentem, frugalem, laboriosum, modestum: Profecto rarae, fateamini hoc oportet, rarae profecto virtutes! tanto maioris pretii, quanto sunt rariores. Sunt hae virtutes vinculi ad instar, quo ille literaria nostrae Societati adstrictus erit.

Behold the Theologian, Most Honored Auditors, behold the Theologian, pious, learned, prudent, frugal, laborious, modest: Assuredly rare—confess this, as is fitting—indeed rare virtues! of so much the greater price, the rarer they are. These virtues are in the likeness of a bond, by which he will be bound to our Literary Society.

Quandoquidem vero et aequitas et iura et consuetudo postulant, ut vinculi istius, externis quippe sensibus non expositi; tessera veluti quaedam nobis exhibeatur, oportet sane, Vir. Plur. Reverende, ut iuris iurandi religione honestatem tuam nobis confirmes.

Since indeed both equity and the laws and custom demand that, of this bond—indeed not exposed to external senses—there be exhibited to us, as it were, a certain token, it is surely proper, Most Reverend Sir, that by the religion of an oath you confirm your integrity to us.

Itaque veluti quaedam tu nobis debes officia, ita vicissim nos quoque alia quaedam tibi debemus, Illorum quasi tessera iuris tui iurandi sacramentum est: Horum vero documentum tibi esto diploma hoc regium, tibi sane perquam honorificum: quod eadem nunc reverentia, qua ego illud e manu tua accepi, e manu mea, velim, recipias.

And so, just as you owe to us certain obligations, so in turn we also owe certain others to you; of the former, as it were a token, is the sacrament of your oath: but of the latter let this royal diploma be the document for you, indeed very honorific to you: which, with the same reverence with which I received that from your hand, I would wish you to receive from my hand.

Salve mihi nunc, Collega Praestantissime, quo ego quidem antiquo nomine te primus compello. Dumque vivis in incrementum religionis, in decus literarum, in honestatis ornamentum, vive etiam in tuam salutem, in honorem tuum, in laetam denique tuam fortunam. Quam ab aliquot iam inde annis tibi probatam dedi, quamque tu mihi amicitiam corrobarasti, eam ego aeternam et inviolabilem esse iubeo.

Hail now to me, Most Excellent Colleague, by which indeed ancient name I first address you. And while you live for the increment of religion, for the honor of letters, for the ornament of honesty, live also for your health, for your honor, and, finally, for your happy fortune. The friendship which for some years now I have given you as proven, and which you have corroborated toward me, this I decree to be eternal and inviolable.

Rursus salve, vive, vige, vale! DIXI

Again, hail, live, thrive, farewell! I HAVE SAID