[3839] The young person is in these things so constant, resolute, strong, durable, that educators and those who have charge of him, even if they are most benevolent, very frequently and most often consider such resolutions and forms of life to be natural to him, to arise from his inclinations, to be consistent with his true character, his true pleasure, and therefore they decide not to take them from him, not to deny him them, to confirm him in them, to humor him, and that is what they do, even sometimes without any self-interest but solely out of concern and affection for him. They deceive themselves mightily, and in such cases their limited knowledge of the human heart and its wondrous workings, of the phenomena of self-love and of its very subtle and fleeting operations and ways of acting, and its extraordinary effects and transformations, does great harm to these poor young people, who could still, though not without great force and skill, be snatched away from those harsh resolutions, actions, and habits, and reconciled with themselves and with life, a true decision which ought to be taken in such cases by a prudent and philosophical and compassionate guardian and is the only means of turning the young person away from the wretched decisions which he has embraced or is about to embrace, and to take him away from the true unhappiness which he is about to follow, especially once the fury of his age has calmed and its ardor has cooled, which are precisely those things which cause that endurance of his and turn him to ice, and which sustain and nurture him in that icy, sterile, and arid life which he has undertaken, or in his resolution to undertake it. But they cannot long continue to sustain him, and once they are consumed or diminished, he will feel the whole [3840] torment of his state, and he will lack the strength to suffer it, after having imposed the need for it upon himself. This strength is lacking along with the satisfaction which he feels in suffering or in the wish to suffer, which satisfaction cannot be perpetual, and time and age, if nothing else, extinguish it. Especially as he cannot be consoled and made indifferent toward his deprivations by disillusionment, since he has never experienced what he deprived himself of and has not deprived himself of it on account of any disillusionment and contempt he might have for it, in fact the opposite, because he was deluded, because he set great store by it, because depriving himself of it cost him a great deal. For this is the difference between the sort of sacrifice which we are presently discussing, and that simpler and better known sort (deriving as it does from a cause which is clearer and easier to understand and to see its connection with the effect) and perhaps more ordinary, or as ordinary, which arises from disillusion, from experience of enjoyments, from disgust with life which can be so happy.
It therefore happens that such young people who are old in their youth by their own choice, and more strongly old than the old themselves, precisely because their moral old age happens to arise from their physical youth, and from the strength and ardor of this and of their character, when they reach maturity and old age (assuming that they have carried through their resolutions) they are morally young, and a great deal younger than the very young people who have had a little experience, or who have a less ardent and sensitive nature. Because the latter are in part disillusioned, or less avid and eager for enjoyment. The former continue and preserve their youthful error complete and fresh [3841] as they do their illusions, and like fruit in winter, preserved in wax, having been kept from all contact with the air, preserve under the old age of the body, almost intact and complete, the youth of the soul (kept far from external influence, etc., in seclusion, etc.), the only true youth, because the youth of the body, which drove them to suffer, and made them take pleasure in it, and gave a value to it for them, is over. These people, well advanced in age, are eager for enjoyment, avid and thirsty for happiness without any hope for it, but since they are fully convinced, just as they were at the beginning, that it is possible and not difficult or rare, they have regained the desires which are proper to man, and especially to youth, with all their ardor, etc. And so they live and die desperate and unhappy, all the more so the more they think others are happy, and that their unhappiness, their suffering, their not enjoying, or the thought that they have never enjoyed and always suffered, comes from them, and that they could have done something different if they had so wished. And this opinion and regret are the bitterest part that can be found in any habitual or existing unhappiness or misfortune or privation, etc., and the peak of unhappiness.1
Relevant to this discussion and arising from the psychological reasons and principles, and from the internal events and circumstances developed above, are a great part of the young people joining religious orders, etc., or choosing to live at home or in the countryside, withdrawals from society, etc., decisions carried out at the beginning of youth, especially by people who are very much alive and sensitive, etc., and it then becomes necessary to continue these things, out of habit, out of human considerations, out of the consequent lack of experience of social intercourse, out of panic fear [3842] of opinion, of being ridiculed, etc., which usually accompanies what is extraordinary, innovation, making a start, changing plans and life at a time, at an age which is not suitable, which is not usual for beginning, or for a new plan and life for itself, etc. etc. (5 Nov. 1823.)
For p. 2779, margin, end. That the active form βούλω once existed is confirmed by not only an argument by analogy, but by fact; that is that βούλομαι [to wish] is to be found used also in a passive sense. Therefore if it is passive, it must have arisen from an active, and must have had its active form, of which it was the passive. See Creuzer, Meletemata e disciplina antiquitatis, part 2, Leipzig 1817, pp. 55, end–56, beginning.1 (6 Nov. 1823.)
As long as man thinks, he desires, because as much as he thinks, he loves himself. And at every moment, depending on how free and intact and with little impediment his faculty of thinking is, and to the extent to which he fully and intensely exercises it, his desiring is greater. So in a state of drowsiness, of lethargy, of certain forms of intoxication (see pp. 3835–36 and 3846, end–3848), as sleep comes on or recedes, and in similar states in which the proportion, the amount, the force of thinking, the exercise of thought, the freedom and present faculty of thinking is less, more hampered, insufficient, etc., man desires less profoundly in proportion, his desire, force, its content, is less, and therefore man is proportionately less unhappy. When one extends that action of the mind which is inseparable from the feeling of life, and always in proportion [3843] to the degree of this feeling, one extends by the same amount, and always in proportion to the degree of life, the desire of man and the living being, and the action of desiring. Every free act of the mind, every thought which is not independent of the will, is in some way an existing desire, because all such acts and thoughts have some end or other, which is desired by man at that point in proportion to the intensity, etc., of that act or thought, and all such ends are connected to the happiness which man and the living being by their nature necessarily desire above all other things and cannot not desire. (6 Nov. 1823.)
Positivized diminutives. Mamilla or mammilla diminutives of mamma (mammella, etc.) [breast]. Papilla [nipple] diminutive of papula [pimple], as fabella [story] of fabula [talk] and similar, of which elsewhere [→Z 3054–55, 3061, 3312] (see the following page); and diminutive in illa, like mammilla which Forcellini calls *“diminutive from mamma, and often meaning the same thing”* (that is to say the same as mamma). (6 Nov. 1823.)
For convexo as see Forcellini and apply it to what I said elsewhere [→Z 2020–21] about convexus deriving it from veho, like vexare [to shake, to afflict], from which comes convexare which means the same thing, etc.
The distinction which Priscian makes1 between nectus and necatus is not valid (according to Forcellini under Neco [to kill]). If he is not intending to do the same with necui and necavi. Since nectus is from necui, and necatus from necavi, according to what I have said elsewhere [→Z 3715–17, 3723–25] about the formation [3844] of supines and passive participles from perfects. And it is indeed certain that necui from which nectus, is
nothing other than a corruption of necavi from which necatus, so that nectus turns out to be nothing other than a corruption of necatus. This is at least as far as its origin and grammatical cause are concerned. One could believe Priscian’s contention that the use and meaning of the two participles mentioned are different, if he were to bring forward suitable examples, or if the ones we have favored or did not contradict the distinction he makes. Now, for nectus we do not have any certain examples; but necatus which appears in a passage of Ovid (Forcellini under necatus), said of bees, certainly does not mean “killed with the sword.” And see in Forcellini the examples of Enecatus and Enectus. Besides, it actually seems in the passage of Forcellini referred to, that is under Neco, that Priscian makes the same distinction in meaning between the two perfects (which in origin are just one) as between the two participles, which likewise in origin are just one, but indirectly, that is insofar as they come from perfects which are in origin one and the same. (6 Nov. 1823.)
For what I have said elsewhere [→Z 3054–55, 3062–63] about asinus–asellus [ass], fabula–fabella [story], populus–popellus [rabble], etc., add pagina–pagella [written page]. Also add what is said on p. 3875 showing that many Latin nouns in ulus, culus, etc., are not diminutives even in origin and the rule of formation. And note our positivized diminutive favella, favellare, etc. (see p. 3896), for which verbs see elsewhere on another subject. Poculum–pocillum [cup], Papula–papilla, Geminus–gemellus [twin-born], Tabula–tabella [writing tablet], Femina–femella [woman], Baculum or us [stick]–bacillum or us [stick], Pulvinus–pulvillus [cushion]. Catulus–catellus [whelp, puppy]. Anellus [ring] (anello, etc.) is a diminutive of anulus [ring] (which in its turn is perhaps a diminutive of annus [year], but different in meaning from the positive, therefore does not come into our discussion of positivized diminutives). So our anello, etc. (and see the Glossary), is a positivized diminutive. See p. 3901, paragraph 2 and the place to which that paragraph refers. (7 Nov. 1823.)
[3845] Nouns in uosus. See Forcellini under fetuosus [prolific]. (7 Nov. 1823.)
For p. 3585. And these texts, and consequently these two verbs, are ancient, that is the first is from Catullus, the other from Paulus Diaconus in Festus.1 For the rest assulito [to jump, to assault] is for assilito, with the i changed to u, because of the great affinity of these two vowels, considered elsewhere [→Z 1279, 2152–53, 2824, 3834]. The same affinity does not exist between a and u; neither in compounds nor elsewhere does a (as far as I recall) ever change to u, nor vice versa. So that assulito cannot be instead of assalito, nor assulto, resulto, etc., instead of assalto, resalto, etc., but instead of resilto, assilto, etc. And the same with all the compounds of salto, all of which (as far as I am aware) have the forms in ulto (except resilito, which is probably from salito). Either they come directly from salto, in which case the a would have changed to u, or indirectly, that is first of all to i (normal mutation in compounds, as I have said elsewhere in various places [→Z 1154, 2359] and exactly as happens to the a of salio, in its compounds), then the i goes to u (so that in truth it is not the a but the i which changes to u); or, what is more likely, they come from the participles or supines of the respective original compounds, that is from assultum, resultum, etc., parts of assilio, resilio, etc. So facul, difficul, facultas, difficultas for facilitas, difficilitas, etc., with the i mutating to u, and the other i suppressed. See p. 3852. And these participles and supines regularly would be resilitum, assilitum, etc. (and this is demonstrated as factually correct by the verb resilito), but they had the first i changed to u, as maximus–maxumus (and in that state, that is from assulitum, comes assulito, and proves our assertion), and the second i was suppressed, as in the simple salitum–saltum: from which came assultum, resultum, etc., from which assultare contracted from assulitare. It may well be that the very ancient, before [3846] assilio, etc., pronounced them assulio, resulio, etc., as maxumus is perhaps a more ancient pronunciation or writing, etc., than maximus; and consequently assulitum, resulitum (which afterward in their subsequent contraction preserve the pronunciation of the writing of the u), etc. In such a case assulito would be the more ancient form of the compounds of salto, and resilito would be more modern, from the more modern resilitum. (7 Nov. 1823.)
For p. 3281. The conclusion and the force of this thought are that compassion, beneficence, sensitivity, etc., considered by everyone (and in particular Rousseau)1 as generally proper to young people (especially men), and insensitivity, harshness, etc., considered as proper to the mature, and even more, to old people (especially women)—see pp. 3520–25—do not so much derive from the innocence, inexperience, and negligible worldly awareness of one group, and from the experience and worldly knowledge, the moral disillusionment, etc., of the other group, as is ordinarily believed and stated, so much as from other reasons, both physical and moral referred to in this discussion. Or certainly to a great extent from them, and perhaps principally, and if not from each of them, taken alone in comparison with that mentioned above, which is certainly very great, and to which belongs the difference in virtue between the ancients and moderns, etc., then at least from their sum. In fact with a man and a woman equally young and inexperienced and given parity in all other qualities and circumstances, the man, because he is stronger, etc., is naturally more compassionate than the woman, more beneficent, etc., and more inclined to compassion, to care about others, etc. So of two young people, equal in every other matter and circumstance, the stronger is more prone to help others, to sympathize, to do good, etc. etc. (7 Nov. 1823.)
As long as the living being is aware of its existence, and all the more so the more it feels its existence, that being loves itself (see pp. 3835–36, 3842–43), and always presently, [3847] that is with a succession of acts that is continuous and not interrupted, acts which are all the more intense, the more the feeling mentioned is presently or habitually greater. Always and in each instant that the living being loves itself presently, it desires its own happiness, and desires it presently, with a continuous series of acts of desire, or with a desire which is always present, and not only potential, but always carried into act, all the more intense, the more, etc., as above. The living being can never achieve its happiness, because it would wish it to be infinite, as has been explained elsewhere [→Z 165ff., 1017–18], and desires it to be so, but it cannot be so in effect. Therefore the living being never obtains and can never obtain the object of its desire. As long therefore as it desires, it is necessarily unhappy, because in fact it is desiring uselessly, even if we exclude every other reason for unhappiness. For a desire which is not satisfied is a painful state, therefore a state of unhappiness. And all the more unhappy the more intensely it desires. There is not therefore for the living being any other happiness possible, and this only negative, that is the lack of unhappiness. It is not possible, I mean, for the living being to lack positive unhappiness except by not desiring its own happiness, nor through any other means than that of not yearning for happiness. But as long as it loves itself, it desires happiness, and while it feels that it exists, it cannot, even for a moment, cease to love itself, and the more it feels that it exists, the more it loves itself and the more it desires. The discussion therefore about human happiness and that of any other living being is reduced through the evidence to these terms, and to this conclusion. A species of [3848] living being with respect to another or others generally, etc., is that much happier, that is, that much less unhappy, that much more poorer in positive unhappiness, to the extent that it feels its existence less than the other, that is, when it is less alive and the closer it is to genera which are not animal. (Therefore the species of polyps, zoophytes, etc., is the happiest of living beings.)1 So for an individual with respect to another or others. (Therefore the stupidest of men is the happiest of them, and the nation of Lapps the happiest of nations, etc.)2 And an individual with respect to himself then is most happy when he feels his life and himself less, therefore in a state of lethargic intoxication, in an opium stupor,
like the Turks, a weakness which is not distressing, etc., in the instants which precede sleep or awakening, etc. And only then man, and the living being, is and can be completely happy, that is completely not unhappy and devoid of positive unhappiness, when he in no way feels his life, that is in sleep, lethargy, total swoon, in the instants which precede death, that is the end of existing as a living being, etc.3 This means when he is not capable of any happiness, nor of any pleasure or good, in absolute terms; when he, living, does not live; only then is he completely happy. If he desires happiness, he cannot be happy; the less he desires it, the less unhappy he is; desiring nothing, he is not unhappy at all. Therefore man and the living being are also that much less unhappy, the more they are diverted from the desire of happiness, through exterior or interior action and occupation, as I have explained elsewhere [→Z 172–73, 1584–86]. Either diversion or lethargy: these are the only means of happiness which animals have and can ever have. (7 Nov. 1823.)
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