Zibaldone

by Leopardi, Giacomo

  Moreover, from the observations I have made on the need of Europe and the human spirit for new illustrious languages in order to make progress both in customs and in sciences, in letters, and in philosophy following the rebirth of studies, on the great detriment and delay brought to the renascent civilization by the renewal of the exclusive use of Latin as the illustrious language, and on the even greater damage and delay which the continued use of this language would have brought to it, it becomes clearer than ever not just how much the Italian language owes to Dante, which is often proclaimed, but the nation itself, all of Europe and the human spirit. For Dante was absolutely the first in Europe (against custom and the sentiment of all his contemporaries, and many who have come since who take issue with him for doing so; see Perticari, Apologia, ch. 34) to dare to conceive [3339] and compose a classical work of literature in a modern vernacular, raising a modern language to the level of an illustrious language capable of taking the place of or, at least ranking alongside, the Latin language, which until that time had been esteemed by all, and even afterward by quite a few, as the only one capable of reaching such heights. And this classical work was not merely a work of poetry, but like the poems of Homer, expressly embraced all the knowledge of its age, theology, philosophy, politics, history, mythology, etc. And it proved to be classical not just with respect to its own time but to all times, and among the foremost, not just with respect to Italy, but to all nations and literatures. Without such an example and such daring, or if it had proved less successful and dazzling, if this work had been less universal in its subject matter and belonged less—so to speak—to all genres of literature and teaching, it may without doubt be believed, if nothing else, that both Italy and the other nations would have taken considerably longer than they did to elevate their own modern languages to the status of illustrious languages, and then to form their own [3340] modern literatures conforming to the times, and hence the national and modern, distinct, determined spirit and character, etc. Dante set the example, opened up and smoothed the path, showed the purpose, and with his daring and success gave courage to Italians: Italy to other nations. So much is incontrovertible. Nor was what Dante did done by chance, or without reason and reflection, profound reflection. He deliberately sought to replace Latin with a modern illustrious tongue, for he judged that this was what the circumstances of the times and the nature of things required, and he expressly sought to have the Latin language banished from the use of the cultured, the learned, legislators, notaries, etc., as no longer befitting the times. What Dante did came as a result of proposition and design, and was aimed at a specific purpose. And this proposition, design, and purpose (insofar as these are relevant to our argument, for he also pursued other designs, and set other goals for himself, all wonderful and most wise, but which have little bearing on my own proposition here)1 (and in the same way also the choice and use of means) were those of a most acute, profound, and wise philosopher. See Perticari, in the passage quoted. (2 Sept. 1823.)

  The French like to use ordinal numbers for cardinal numbers. Louis catorze,2 livre deux [book two], etc. [3341] This is pure idiom and ungrammatical. But see also, if I am not mistaken, Suetonius, Divus Julius, Chapter 39, § 4, and the other authors listed by Pitiscus, etc. (2 September 1823.) See pp. 3544, 3557.

  The limits of matter are the limits of human ideas.1 (3 September 1823.)

  For p. 3235. Instigo as [to goad on] comes from instinguo is [to incite], from which instinctus a um and instinctus us [instigation] both come. The simple form is stinguo [to pierce] (from which exstinguo [to extinguish], restinguo [to quench], distinguo [to separate], etc., also come); I have discussed this verb elsewhere [→Z 2237–38, 2297] in another regard. Those who derive instigo from insto [to press in or upon], etc., are very much mistaken. The other verbs I have collected in this category show that it comes from instinguo, as jugo [to unite together] comes from jungo, etc. Note that instigo properly speaking is a continuative form because of its meaning, for instinguo literally means the act of goading, hence pushing, inducing, whereas instigo means to stimulate, to gather around, to swarm around with a view to inciting. Instinguere is the purpose of instigare. Anyone wishing to argue that insidior [to lie in ambush] (possibly also insidio might be found) comes directly from insideo [to sit in or upon] rather than insidiae [ambush] (which in this case would come from insidior rather than insideo) would argue that it belongs to this category, in which case it should be noted that it does not come from a verb of the third conjugation but (from an anomalous one) of the second. (3 September 1823.) However, it could also come from insido [to sit down in, to settle on] is.2 However, it is more likely that it comes from insidiae (see p. 3350). Otherwise it would be insidor aris, as sedo as comes from sedeo [to sit] (or from sido is [to sit down]), on which see elsewhere [→Z 3020–21]. Invideo [to look maliciously], invidia [envy], invidiare in Italian [to envy], etc. (3 Sept. 1823.)

  [3342] For p. 3098. All primitive nations and societies, no differently from the savage ones today, held the unhappy or wretched man to be an enemy of the Gods, because of the vices or crimes of which he himself was guilty, or because of envy or some other passion or whim which moved the Numens to hate him in particular or his stock, etc., depending on the various ideas which such nations had of justice or the nature of the Gods. An undertaking that did not succeed showed that the Gods were against it, either for itself or out of hostility toward the person or persons undertaking it. A man accustomed to échouer [to fail] in his undertakings was unfailingly held to be in the wrath of the Gods. Illness, shipwreck, or some other such misfortune deriving more directly from nature were indisputable signs of divine wrath. The unfortunate person was thus avoided, as culpable; all succor and compassion were denied to him, for fear that in this way they might become accomplices to his guilt, and hence be made to participate in its punishment. Here one should mention the public infamy in which lepers were held among the Jews, and still are among the Indians if I am not mistaken. Job’s friends and his wife [3343] held him to be a villain when they saw him struck by so many misfortunes, despite having been witness to the blamelessness of his previous life. The Barbarians on the island of Malta, in seeing St. Paul shipwrecked, and despite coming to shore safely, and then being attacked by a viper, judged him to be a murderer relentlessly pursued by divine justice (Acts 28:3‒6). The trace of these opinions remains in the ancient languages, as it does of all ancient things. Tάλας (Aristophanes, Plutus 4, 5, 19), κακοδαίμων (ibid. 4, 3, 47), ἄϑλιος and similar terms had the sense of unhappy as much as they did of evil, or villainous, etc. See the Latin words. Thus also in Italian words such as sciagurato, disgraziato, misero, miserabile, etc., have both meanings; that is, they are used of people also as terms of humiliation and scorn. The same is true in French of words like malheureux, misérable, etc., whereas cattivo in Italian has completely lost the sense of wretched which it had previously, but not that of villainous, evil, wicked, which is its most ordinary and common meaning today. (3 September 1823.) See p. 3351.

  Μοχϑηρός [suffering], πονηρός [evil] (πόνηρος infelix [unhappy]), μοχϑηρία [wickedness, depravity], πονηρία [wickedness], etc. etc. See Scapula, and p. 3382. κακοδαίμων, he who has as his enemy τὸ δαιμόνιον, that is the deity, or τὸν δαίμονα. But it means unhappy. Lucian combines ϑεοῖς ἐχϑροὺς καὶ κακοδαίμονας [enemies of the gods and unhappy]. Εὐδαίμων, he who has the gods as his friends, but it means lucky, happy. See Scapula under these entries and under ἐχϑροδαίμων [hated by the gods] and βαρυδαίμων [oppressed by the gods], plus derivatives, etc., and Aristotle, Politics, bk. 3, p. 260, and ibid. Vettori’s commentary (Florence 1576).1

  Where could tapino [wretched] come from, if not ταπεινός [base]? (3 September 1823.)

  [3344] It is as though scrissero [they wrote], vissero [they lived], dissero [they said], videro [they saw], diedero [they gave], tennero [
they held] and a host of others like them came from scripsĕrunt, vixĕrunt, dixĕrunt, vidĕrunt, dedĕrunt and tenuĕrunt. This is how many poets, especially the most ancient ones, actually said them; and that this pronunciation was or remained proper to the Roman populace who preserved antiquity in this respect too and handed it down to us, may be inferred from certain verses of the people quoted by Suetonius in Divus Julius, ch. 80, § 3 (on which see the commentary by Pitiscus, etc.), which were current in Rome toward the end of the time of Julius Caesar. I say of the people,a and in fact they are to be compared with the verses quoted again by Suetonius, ibid., ch. 49, § 7, where they were sung by Caesar’s soldiers.1 (3 Sept. 1823.)

  For p. 3206. —(6) The imagination, the faculty of invention or inventive faculty, the aptitude and fecundity, the poetic spirit, genius, etc., are clearly less strong in old people and mature men than in young people and children, etc., and decrease gradually and naturally in accordance with age, not only for moral reasons but for physical ones as well. They are also clearly more or less strong in different individuals, not merely as the result of external and accidental circumstances, but originally and naturally.

  [3345] (7) Memory clearly (at least ordinarily) decreases the older one gets, irrespective of practice, which in fact increases memory the more, the more assiduous and extensive it is. Indeed, if one looks closely one sees that in children it is naturally stronger, but weaker through lack or shortage of practice, and that with age the so-called artificial and acquired forces increase and the natural ones diminish, until by old age, the latter having been destroyed almost entirely, the former too become useless and are lost and dispersed, for their subject has disappeared, that is, the physical disposition for retention which organs for use by the memory have. The forces of memory in a mature man are more or less midway between those of a child and an old man, for in him the acquired abilities take the place of the natural ones, which are much more considerable in the child than in the mature man, but in the mature man are much greater than in the old man, and still sufficient to serve as matter and subject for the artificial abilities that are the result of practice, general and specific, past and present, which is stronger in the mature man than it is in the child, etc. It is also indisputable that physically some have stronger and some weaker memories, some prodigious and others nonexistent ones, and this at the same age, and [3346] all other circumstances being equal. And this physical difference is at times original and innate, that is, from birth, at others occasional, but physical nonetheless, and independent, at least in large part and radically, of moral reasons, etc. It is equally certain that in one and the same individual at the same age, often even at different times during the same day, for what are clearly physical reasons the memory may be quicker and stronger and clearer, and at other times less so, quicker or slower both to learn and to recall, and disposed to do so more or less perfectly, etc. Now, why can this entire argument about memory, in which the physical, etc., occupies so great a place, not also be applied to mental ability, talent, intellect, etc., which is also a faculty of the soul, like memory is, and which, like it, comes from, and is founded on, a disposition that is natural, original, and innate in man, etc.? (3 September 1823.) If the physical and natural disposition is different in relation to the memory in different ages, different individuals, different times, etc., independently of moral features, why then not equally so [3347] in relation to the intellect and talent?1 (3 September 1823.)

  The cold season and climate provide greater strength to act, and less desire to do so, greater contentment with the present, and inclination to order and method, to the point of fostering uniformity. Hot weather diminishes the strength to act, and at the same time inspires and kindles the desire to do so, makes people extremely prone to boredom, intolerant of life’s uniformity, desirous of novelty, unhappy with themselves and the present. It seems that the cold weather fortifies the body, and binds up the mind; that hot weather numbs and softens the body, and makes it drowsy and sluggish, while exciting and awakening and unleashing the mind. In the cold weather one has the strength to act, but not without discomfort. The temperature of the air surrounding you, in setting itself against you à ce que [so that] you cannot leave the house or your room without suffering, counsels you to inaction and immobility at the same time as it furnishes you with the strength for action and movement. One might say that we feel both the strength and the difficulty at the same time. The opposite is true when it is hot. One feels the ease of action and movement at the same time as one’s forces are lacking. Man expressly feels a sense of physical liberty which comes from the friendliness offered by the air and nature that surrounds him, a sense which invites him to movement and action, and which he sometimes confuses with that of strength, but which in fact is very different from it, as a man may become aware of when, having given in to the restlessness which that sense inspires in him, and in giving himself to action, the complete lack of strength which then comes upon him, removes from him that sense of freedom, and compels him to desire and seek rest. Even in itself the weakness and relaxation produced by a cause not related to illness, such as the heat, gives a certain ease in resolving to act, to move, to make an effort, more so than the tension produced by the cold. It may seem paradoxical, but it is proved also by individual experience. It seems that the body thus relaxed is more manageable in its own right. However, its ability to make an effort is short-lived, etc.2 Physical activity is characteristic of northerners, mental activity of southerners. But the body does not act unless moved by the mind. Hence, and despite the fact that activity and laboriousness are undoubtedly characteristic of northerners, they are truly the calmest peoples of the earth, and southerners the most restless, despite the fact that sloth is characteristic of them. Northerners require great stimulus to be moved, to get up and seek out new things; but [3348] once moved, they are not easily calmed down again. This may be seen in their histories, especially the modern ones and especially those involving Germany, where very few revolutions will be found (especially compared to those by southerners), but such revolutions as there are tend to be long-lived, like the religious one initiated by Luther which soon became political. They endure tyranny easily until it pushes them à bout [to the limit], as with the Swiss.1 Northerners obey willingly, and work under orders (possibly to excess) more willingly than if they were operating of their own accord. This may be seen in their troops. Southerners are easily, quickly, and frequently roused, rebellious, intolerant of tyranny, ill-disposed toward obedience, but they are very easy to calm down and they return to a state of rest very easily; volatile, changeable, unstable, desirous of political innovation and incapable of maintaining it; desirous of freedom, and incapable of retaining it; the opposite of northerners, who rarely seek it and care little for it; but who, once they have sought or somehow attained it, hold onto it for a very long time. Indeed, the northerners, and in particular the Germans or Teutonic peoples, are the only ones in Europe who retain some vestige of liberty, some semblance [3349] of the ancient republics; the only ones among whom the republics are seen through experience to be capable of lasting even in modern times. See, for example, the Swiss, the free cities of Germany, the little republics of the Moravian Brethren,1 etc. In southern Europe not even a shadow of a republic exists any longer, anywhere outside of San Marino. In Germany there are quite a number, and some small principalities there are governed today in the manner almost of a republic or free state, by will of the prince (such as the Saxe-Gotha)2 or by constitution.

  These observations should be applied to the comments I made on pp. 2752–55, pp. 2926, end–28, and vice versa. (3 Sept. 1823.) See p. 3676.

  If no idea of right or wrong, of moral good or evil, exists or is conceived per se in the intellects of men, no law passed by a legislator can render any action or failure to act just or unjust, good or bad. For there can be no reason why obeying any given law is right or wrong, good or bad, and there can be no principle [3350] on which to base the right which any
one person has to govern another, if the idea of legitimacy, duty, and right is not innate or inspired (as Voltaire would have it, that is, naturally and by innate disposition rising in the minds of men, when they reach the age of reason) in human intellects.1 (4 Sept. 1823.)

  Verbs ending in uo. Heluor or helluor, aris [to guzzle] from helluo or heluo, onis [glutton]. Mutuo, as and mutuor, aris [to borrow] from mutuus [mutual]. Cernuo, as [to fall head foremost] from cernuus [inclined forward]. (4 Sept. 1823.)

  Insidiae [ambush], desidia [idleness] are clearly made up of in or de plus the noun sedia,2 with the e being changed to an i as is customary, as with insideo [to sit in or upon], desideo [to sit idle], from sedeo [to sit] (see p. 2890). But the simple word sedia which must have existed in Latin, since its compounds existed, has been lost from written Latin, but has been preserved in Italian. See the Glossary, etc. (4 Sept. 1823.)

  Continuative forms. Mutito [to interchange] and mutuito [to wish to borrow]. See Forcellini under both of these entries. (4 Sept. 1823.)

  For p. 2843. Indeed, the fact that we say incettare [to hoard up, to corner], instead of incattare (like, as we also say, [3351] accattare [to beg], riscattare [to redeem], etc.), leads me to believe that this verb belongs to the classical age of the Latin language, for in later times, and even less in the vernaculars, the custom of changing the a of the Latin verbs to an e or i to make compounds, and the e to an i, etc., was not preserved and was ignored. (4 Sept. 1823.)