For p. 4211. And codex 224, col. 708. ἐδίδου … τοῖς ὁρῶσιν ἐννοεῖν [led the onlookers to think].
“Οἱ γὰρ πάλαι ῥήτορες ἱκανὸν αὐτοῖς ἐνόμιζον εὑρεῖν τε τὰ ἐνθυμήματα, καὶ τῇ φράσει περιττῶς ἀπαγγεῖλαι” (phrasi eximia): “ἐσπούδαζον γὰρ τὸ ὅλον περί τε τὴν λέξιν καὶ τὸν ταύτης κόσμον· πρῶτον μὲν ὅπως εἴη σημαντικὴ καὶ εὐπρεπής” (significativa et venusta), “εἶτα καὶ ἐναρμόνιος ἡ τούτων σύνθεσις” (compositio). “ἐν τούτῳ γὰρ αὐτοῖς καὶ τὴν πρὸς τοὺς ἰδιώτας διαφορὰν ἐπὶ τὸ κρεῖττον περιγίνεσθαι” (ex hoc enim se praestituros vulgo loquentium). [“In fact, orators in the past thought it sufficient to find a subject and to express it in an elevated style. Their greatest concern was for words and their arrangement, that the word should first of all be significant and apt, and therefore that their composition should be harmonious. That was how they set themselves apart from the common people and showed their superiority”]. Caecilius, the Sicilian rhetorician, speaking about Antiphon, one of the 10 Greek orators, in Photius, codex 259, col. 1452, Greek-Latin ed.
[4214] For p. 4197. For some time now there have been schools of pugilism (boxing)1 in England, and the men who go there to learn the art are not just those intending to become professional boxers, but also a great number of gentlemen of every condition who wish to use it in everyday life, which in that country quite often offers occasions for using one’s fists; to defend oneself when other people use theirs.
For p. 4200. “Solevano portar le donne intorno al collo e alle maniche de’ bottoncelli d’ariento indorato” [“Women used to wear around the neck and sleeves some small buttons of silver gilt”]. Francesco da Buti in the Crusca under Bottoncello.
The French do not have a poetic language because they have rejected their ancient language, because they cannot bear what is ancient in poetry any more than in prose: and without the ancient there cannot be a poetic language. The Latins who had little antiquity of language, because the progress of their literature was extremely rapid, and because they rejected, with the exception of a few short parts in verse, the little antiquity they had, did not have a poetic language properly speaking, nor would they have had a poetic diction or style if they had not used in their poetry bold constructions, new meanings and verbal metaphors, which the French cannot bear in their language. Note therefore that with the Latins each poet was the artificer of his own poetic language; the poetic language of the Latins was the work of the individual poet, and if the poet did not forge it himself, he did not have one: whereas in Italian and in Greek it was universal, and the poet already had it before he started to compose. And perhaps this is the source of the abuse and excessive production of versifying and versifiers, etc. etc. Moreover the fact that the Latins and the French, unlike the Greeks and the Italians, rejected their ancient language in their good and perfect ages, came about, among other reasons, because they did not have truly great writers in their ancient language, unlike the Greeks, who had Homer, Hesiod, Archilochus, Hippocrates, Herodotus, etc., and the Italians, who had Dante, Petrarch, Boccaccio, in fact (like the Greeks) a literature already established, fixed and formed even before their language and before the maturity of their civilization. (Bologna, 12 Oct. 1826.)
Natural history. It is curious to observe how small, disparate, and distant are the causes which determine the most stable, and the most universal, habituations and [4215] ideas of men. What is called natural history is a true science, since it defines, distinguishes into classes, has principles, and draws conclusions. If we had to call it history because it narrates the characteristics of animals, of plants, etc., the same name would have to be given to chemistry, to physics, to astronomy, to all nonabstract sciences. All these sciences narrate, that is they teach what can be learned from observation, which is their subject, as is equally the case in natural history. Only the arts can dispense with narration, since in that case giving rules is sufficient. Even ideology narrates, although it is an abstract science. Besides the word history, as it is generally understood, is the narration of successive events one following after the other, not of what always happens and happens in a certain way. Such narration is part of the sciences. It is teaching. And this is the kind of narration which natural history does. Why then do we give this science the name of history? Because it was established by Aristotle: who called it history, because the noun in Greek comes from istor (a learned man, an expert), a verbal noun formed from the verb isémi (scio) [to know] meaning knowledge, information, erudition, know-how, doctrine, science, φυσικὴ ἱστορία, information on nature. Likewise Aelian’s Various History means only “Various erudition,” likewise the books παντοδαπῆς ἱστορίας [of history of all kinds] of other Greek writers are works of philology. And history in Greek is in a certain sense the equivalent of philosophy, and often is taken for it, especially by the most ancient writers, or by the archaicizing sophists. So Aristotle gave the title History of Animals to a work of his on zoology, Theophrastus History of Plants to a work of phytology, etc., Pliny Natural History to an encyclopedic work, one not restricted in the terms of the science named in its title.1 See p. 4234. But we, who attach quite another idea to the word history, would have had to translate it, [4216] especially if it did refer to a science; after all if every term in science must be precise with no room for ambiguity, that is more true of the name itself. Nevertheless we have adopted it exactly as it is; and the effect of such a disparate cause is that the name of this science, a name which has universally always been and always will be fixed to it and inseparable from it, produces in everyone an ambiguous idea, which confuses the notions of history with that of science; which makes us give to those who study and write about it the name of historians of nature, which no one ever thought to give to Lavoisier or to Volta, or to call Cassini or Galileo historians of the stars or of the sky. A confused and imprecise idea, against which no one will be able to defend themselves as long as such a name is kept for such a science, which will never be taken from it by any nation until our present civilization is extinct (Bologna, 13 Oct. 1826), and another one comes into being that does not derive from this one.
Rhetoric. Here let us cite an example of the acute philosophical thought of the rhetoricians. Demetrius (one of the most esteemed rhetoricians) περὶ ἑρμηνείας, On Elocution, section 67, referring to figures of speech (σχήματα τῆς λέξεως as opposed to σχήματα τῆς διανοίας [figures of thought] sententiarum or sententiae: λέξεως verborum),1 which are just constructions and phrases that are nonstandard, illogical, uncommon, etc., grammatical mistakes, Alfieri would call them.2 “One should not use such figures too much,a3 because they are not very elegant, and give a certain unevenness to the discourse, and make the discourse uneven. The ancients, who do however make abundant use of figures, manage to be more fluent and familiar than the moderns when they do not use them. The reason is that the former employ them skillfully” (“χρῆσθαι μέν τοι τοῖς σχήμασι μὴ πυκνοῖς· ἀπειρόκαλον γὰρ καὶ παρεμφαῖνόν [4217] τινα τοῦ λόγου ἀνωμαλίαν. Οἱ γοῦν ἀρχαῖοι, πολλὰ σχήματα ἐν τοῖς λόγοις τιθέντες, συνηθέστεροι τῶν ἀσχηματίστων εἰσί, διὰ τὸ ἐντέχνως τιθέναι”).1 The observation is quite true in all languages: but the reason is the very opposite of what Demetrius says. The ancients used figures naturally, without artifice, and because they did not know the rules of grammar very well. The moderns pick them up from the ancients, then use them deliberately, and break the rules on purpose. That is why they seem, as they are in fact, artificial, affected, labored, different from the language of everyday. Dear Demetrius, not ever
ything effective and successful is attributable to art. Allow some tiny little thing to nature, and to ignorance as well, even if you are a master of rhetorical art. See p. 4222.
For p. 4206. That other well-known little story, about the Spartan: “quo fugis, anima bis moritura” [“where are you fleeing to, soul who will die twice?”];2 will probably have been invented as well in order to exaggerate and deride clumsiness, and stupid physical courage.
Μέδω, μέδομαι, μήδω, μήδομαι, μηδέω, etc. (verbs mentioned elsewhere [→Z 3352–57] with reference to medeor [to heal], meditor [to reflect on], etc.), must originally have been one and the same verb, not just among themselves, but also with μέλω, μελέω, μέλομαι, μελέομαι, distinguishable only by their pronunciation, like δασύς–λασὺς, λάσιος3 and Spanish dexar (today written dejar with the j, which corresponds to our sci and to French ch) from Laxare, lasciare, laisser, lâcher [to release]. Δάκρυον—lacrima [tear].
For p. 4200. The Greeks also say ἀναλαμβάνειν [to recover, to rescue] with the same meaning. Memnon, the historian, History of the City of Heraclea Pontica that is of Pontus, in Photius, codex 224, col. 724, Greek-Latin ed. “καὶ ἀπορίας αὐτοὺς καταλαβούσης, ἀνελάμβανον οἱ ἀπὸ τῆς ῾Ηρακλείας, σῖτον εἰς ᾿Αμισὸν πέμποντες.” “When they were suffering from a shortage of provisions the people of Heraclea rescued them, by sending wheat to Amisus.”4 (Bologna, 14 Oct. 1826.) Id. [4218] in the same author, loc. cit., col. 732. “καὶ παραυτίκα τὰ πρὸς τὴν χρείαν χορηγοῦντες ἀφθόνως τοῖς Χιώταις, τούτους ἀνελάμβανον,” [“and then in fact they recovered the Chians, the inhabitants of Chios, by providing them with everything they needed”] “et tunc quidem, large rebus necessariis suppeditatis, reficiunt Chiotas” (the Chians). Id., col. 736. “Λεύκολλος δὲ ἐπὶ τοῦ Σαγγαρίου ποταμοῦ στρατοπεδεύων, καὶ μαθὼν τὸ πάθος, λόγοις ἀνελάμβανεν ἀθυμήσαντας τοὺς στρατιώτας.” “Lucullus, who was camped on the bank of the river Sangarios, when he heard about the extent of the rout, comforted his despondent troops with words of encouragement.”1 A similar phrase is used by the author, col. 753, after the middle.
Nuovamente, novellamente, di novello, di nuovo [again], for di fresco [freshly, newly, just], di poco, poco innanzi, poco fa [a little while ago]—“῾Ως δ' ὅτε Πανδαρέου κούρη χλωρηΐς ἀηδὼν Καλὸν ἀείδησιν, ἔαρος νέον ἱσταμένοιο” [“and as when the daughter of Pandareus, the olive-green nightingale, sweetly sings, when spring is newly begun” Odyssey 19, ll. 518–192 νεῶτα that is, νέον ἔτος—anno nuovo [new year] for prossimo venturo [year about to come]. (Bologna, 14 Oct. 1826.)
Spicio or specio, conspicio, etc.—conspicor, auspicor, etc., suspicor.
Sperno–aspernor, aris.
A few years ago (1823) we heard in the newspapers about people who emit sparks from their body, whose hands and other parts of their body were set on fire without getting burned, and the flames could not be put out with water, etc. And the famous Bandi case was mentioned in this regard.3 Now, whatever credence such tales had or deserved, here are some parallel cases among the ancients. Damascius, in the Life of the philosopher Isidore, in Photius, codex 242, col. 1040, Greek-Latin ed., writes: “τούτου” (Σεβήρου) “τοίνυν ὁ ἵππος, ᾧ τὰ πολλὰ ἐχρῆτο, ψηχόμενος” (tractatus), “σπινθῆρας” (scintillas) “ἀπὸ τοῦ σώματος πολλούς τε καὶ μεγάλους ἠφίει, ἕως αὐτῷ τὸ τέρας εἰς τὴν ὑπατικὴν ἀρχὴν” (of which Severus himself became a member) “ἐν ῾Ρώμῃ κατηνύσθαι. ἀλλὰ καὶ Τιβερίῳ” (Emperor) “ὄνος, ὡς Πλούταρχος ὁ Χαιρωνεὺς φησὶν” (in the Life of Tiberius, now lost) “ἔτι μειρακίῳ ὄντι καὶ ἐν ῾Ρόδῳ ἐπὶ λόγοις ῥητορικοῖς διατρίβοντι,” column 1041 “τὴν βασιλείαν διὰ τοῦ αὐτοῦ παθήματος προεμήνυσεν. ἀλλὰ καὶ τὸν” (I read τῶν) “περὶ ᾿Ατήλλαν ἕνα ὄντα τὸν Βαλέμεριν” (Balemerin, unum ex Attilae aulicis, Schottus) “ἀπὸ τοῦ οἰκείου σώματος ἀποπάλλειν” (iecisse) [4219] “σπινθῆρας. ὁ δὲ ἦν, ὁ Βαλίμερις” (sic) “Θευδερίχου πατὴρ, ὃς νῦν τὸ μέγιστον ἔχει κράτος ᾿Ιταλίας ἁπάσης. Λέγει δὲ καὶ περὶ ἑαυτοῦ ὁ συγγραφεὺς” (Damascius) “ὡς καὶ ἐμοὶ ἐνδυομένῳ τε καὶ ἐκδυομένῳ, εἰ καὶ σπάνιον τοῦτο συμβαίνει, συμβαίνει δ' οὖν σπινθῆρας ἀποπηδᾶν ἐξαισίους” (ingentes), “ἔσθ' ὅτε καὶ κτύπον παρέχοντας· ἐνίοτε δὲ καὶ φλόγας ὅλας” (integras) “καταλάμπειν τὸ ἱμάτιον” (vestem), “μὴ μέν τοι καιούσας· καὶ τὸ τέρας ἀγνοεῖν εἰς ὅ τελευτήσει.” (The good Damascius expected perhaps in his own mind some kind of imperial power, or perhaps even a Consulship, although he does not dare say it.) “ἰδεῖν δὲ λέγει καὶ ἄνθρωπόν τινα ἀπὸ τῆς κεφαλῆς ἀφιέντα σπινθῆρας, ἀλλὰ καὶ φλόγα ἀνάπτοντα, ὅτε βούλοιτο, ἱματίῳ τινὶ τραχεῖ” (veste asperiore) “παρατριβομένης” (i.e., τῆς αὑτοῦ κεφαλῆς). [“This horse” (of Severus) “then, his habitual mount, when it was being rubbed down, emitted from its body many large sparks; the portent lasted until he gained consular rank in Rome. There was also, as Plutarch of Chaeronea relates,” (in the Life of Tiberius, now lost) “a donkey who, with a similar phenomenon, predicted to Tiberius, when he was still a young boy in Rhodes where he studied rhetoric, that he would one day be Emperor. There is also Valamir, a man of Attila’s court” (one of Attila’s courtiers, Schottus), “who emitted sparks from his body. This Valamir was the father of Theodoric, who now rules over the whole of Italy. The author” (Damascius) “next says about himself ‘even if rarely, it happens to me when dressing or undressing that extraordinary sparks shoot out of my body, which sometimes also produce a crackling noise, and sometimes even whole flames light up my garment without burning it’; and he writes that he does not know what the result of this prodigy will be. He declares as well that he saw a man who made sparks come out of his head and that this man created a flame when he wanted one by rubbing his head with a rough cloth”]. (Bologna, 16 Oct. 1826.)
For p. 4208. Damascius in the passage quoted in the preceding thought, column 1033, says of his master and hero the philosopher Isidore: “῾Ρητορικῆς καὶ ποιητικῆς πολυμαθίας μικρὰ ἥψατο, εἰς δὲ τὴν θειοτέραν φιλοσοφίαν ἐξώρμησε τὴν ᾿Αριστοτέλους. ὁρῶν δὲ ταύτην τῷ ἀναγκαίῳ μᾶλλον ἢ τῷ οἰκείῳ” (his own, private, individual) “νῷ πιστεύουσαν, καὶ τεχνικὴν μὲν ἱκανῶς εἶναι σπουδάζουσαν, τὸ δὲ ἔνθεον ἢ νοερὸν οὐ πάνυ προβαλλομένην, ὀλίγον καὶ ταύτης ὁ ᾿Ισίδωρος ἐποιήσατο λόγον. ὡς δὲ τῶν Πλάτωνος ἐγεύσατο νοημάτων, οὐκέτι παπταίνειν ἠξίου πόρσιον, ὡς ἔφη Πίνδαρος” (Olympian Odes, ode 1, and ode 3, end; Pythian Odes, ode 3)1 “ἀλλὰ τέλος ἔχειν ἤλπιζεν εἰ τῆς Πλάτωνος διανοίας εἴσω τῶν ἀδύτων δυνηθείη διαβαλεῖν” (sic),2 “καὶ πρὸς τούτῳ” (in the margin it is corrected to τοῦτο) “ὁ πᾶς αὐτῷ δρόμος ἐτ
έτατο τῆς σπουδῆς” [“He was little devoted to rhetoric and poetic learning, but he applied himself passionately to the more divine philosophy of Aristotle; when he saw however that it was carried out more by what is necessary than individual insight and that it was preoccupied with method and the correction of error, without any regard for mysticism or intuition, Isidore ended up by not being interested in that either. But when he had some taste of Plato’s ideas, he did not want to look any further, as Pindar says, and he promised himself he could attain perfection, if he penetrated the depths of Plato’s thought; and it was to this end that he then passionately devoted all his study and attention”]. “Rhetoricas, poeticasque artes parum attigit: sed ad sanctiorem Aristotelis philosophiam se convertit, vidensque illam necessariis ratiocinationibus magis quam proprio sensui credere, et ut via ac ratione procedat, divinis autem imaginationibus non adeo uti, parum etiam de hac sollicitus fuit: ubi autem Platonis sententias gustavit, non iam aspicere, ut ait Pindarus, dignatus est ulterius. Sed finem consecuturum speravit” (dic, perfectionem, vel quid simile [i.e., perfection or something similar])3 “si in Platonis sententiarum adyta penetrare potuisset, et eo omne suum studium impetumque convertit.” Translation by Andreas Schottus. “Τῶν μὲν παλαίτατα [4220] φιλοσοφησάντων,” adds Photius, “Πυθαγόραν καὶ Πλάτωνα θειάζει” (that is, Damascius) … “τῶν νεωστὶ δὲ Πορφύριον καὶ ᾿Ιάμβλιχον καὶ Συριανὸν καὶ Πρόκλον, καὶ ἄλλους δὲ ἐν μέσῳ τοῦ χρόνου πολὺν θησαυρὸν συλλέξαι λέγει ἐπιστήμης θεοπρεποῦς. τοὺς μέν τοι θνητὰ καὶ ἀνθρώπινα φιλοπονουμένους,” column 1036, “ἢ συνιέντας ὀξέως ἢ φιλομαθεῖς εἶναι βουλομένους, οὐδὲν μέγα ἀνύττειν εἰς τὴν θεοπρεπῆ καὶ μεγάλην σοφίαν. τῶν γὰρ παλαιῶν ᾿Αριστοτέλη καὶ Χρύσιππον, εὐφυεστάτους γενομένους, ἀλλὰ καὶ φιλομαθεστάτους γεγονότας, ἔτι δὲ καὶ φιλοπόνους, οὐκ ἀναβῆναι ὅμως τὴν ὅλην ἀνάβασιν. τῶν νεωτέρων ῾Ιεροκλέα τε καὶ εἴ τις ὅμοιος, οὐδὲν μὲν ἐλλείποντας εἰς τὴν ἀνθρωπίνην παρασκευήν, τῶν δὲ μακαρίων νοημάτων πολλαχῆ πολλῶν ἐνδεεῖς γενομένους φησίν” [“Among the more ancient philosophers,” adds Photius, “he exalts Pythagoras and Plato … and among more recent ones he affirms that Porphyrius, Iamblichus, Syrianus, Proclus, and the others who lived in the middle period amassed a treasure trove of divine science. But those who apply themselves to what is fleeting and human, or who seize and want to know many things quickly, do not ever reach the highest divine wisdom. In fact, among the ancients, Aristotle and Chrysippus, the most perceptive minds, but also the ones most avid to know and the most diligent, did not ever reach the end of their ascent. Among more recent philosophers, he affirms that Hierocles and others like him, who did not overlook anything in terms of human science, were, in many respects, inferior in divine knowledge”]. Θειάζει means he exalts, deifies, praises to the heavens, a word and meaning common in Photius. “Antiquissimos, etc. De recentioribus, etc., et alios mediae aetatis, magnum thesaurum collegisse divinae scientiae dicit. Eos autem qui in caducis, et humanis studiis libenter occupantur, vel qui intelligere acute” (cito [rapidly]),1 “ac scire multa volunt, non magnopere conferre ad sublimem ac divinam sapientiam. Antiquorum enim Aristotelem et Chrysippum ingeniosissimos, et discendi cupidissimos, quin etiam laboriosos, nec tamen omnino ad summum ascendisse. Recentium vero Hieroclem, et similes, scientiis humanis nulli quidem fuisse inferiores, sed in divinis notionibus non admodum fuisse versatos.” Translation by Schottus. Further down in the same column 1036, Damascius says of Isidore: “ἐξαίρετον δ' ἦν αὐτῷ παρὰ τοὺς ἄλλους καὶ τοῦτο φιλοσόφους· οὐκ ἠβούλετο συλλογισμοῖς ἀναγκάζειν μόνον, οὔτε ἑαυτὸν οὔτε τοὺς συνόντας, ἐπακολουθεῖν τῇ ἀληθείᾳ, μὴ ὁρωμένην κατὰ μίαν ὁδὸν πορεύεσθαι συνελαυνομένους ὑπὸ τοῦ λόγου, οἷον τυφλοῦ τινὸς ὀφθὴν ἀγομένου” (in the margin ἀγομένους) “πορείαν· ἀλλὰ πείθειν ἐσπούδαζεν ἀεὶ, καὶ ὄψιν ἐντιθέναι τῇ ψυχῇ, μᾶλλον δὲ ἐνοῦσαν διακαθαίρειν” [“For this reason too Isidore was different from other philosophers: he did not want to restrict himself or his own disciples to the pursuit of truth with the help of syllogisms alone, nor to follow a single road, driven by reason, without seeing it, like a blind man guided by a straight path; he, on the other hand, sought always to persuade and to instill in the soul the ability to see, or rather to make perfectly clear the sight that already existed”]. A corrupt passage, which however can just about be understood. “Hoc etiam a ceteris philosophis distabat Isidorus, quod non sola syllogismorum vi se at suos vellet adhaerere veritati: cumque veritas non una videatur via, nolebat eos ratione, veluti caeca in rectam viam ductrice, impelli. Sed persuadere semper adnisus est, et oculos ad animam referre” (dic, visum, speciem intromittere [i.e., to turn inward the sight]):2 “aut si inessent, [4221] repurgare.” —Does that make you laugh? Now translate whatever seems foolish to you, from the ancient into modern philosophical language, and you will see what Dutens says happen, that is how many truths (here though it will be a matter of errors) you would find in the ancients, that you would think modern,1 if we knew how to translate what they say into the language of modern philosophy. These idiotic statements of the mystical philosopher Isidore, generally common to other mystics of that century and centuries before and after, and prevalent in that age of dreams and creuseries [grubbing around], what else are they, only with different words, but the mystical ramblings of those modern thinkers, who when they cannot prove with rational argument what they want to, when they are obliged to admit that there are no arguments to prove it, that in fact there are plenty of arguments proving the opposite, have recourse to the great proof of feeling, and claim that that must be our only guide, ruling law, and teacher of truth in the things that matter most?2 And whereas we laugh at these passages in Damascius, we do not laugh at such modern sententiousness, we actually repeat what they say and sing its praises. This is a true case of mutato nomine [with the name changed] (just the name and nothing else) de te fabula [the story applies to you]. What else is this feeling, this sensibility, this enthusiasm, this inspiration, which is not in everyone’s nature, or is more natural in some than in others, but which is set down as the principal means of knowing the truth, and to which every other means is to be subordinated, including reason; what else is it, I ask again, if not what Isidore called εὐμοιρία [good disposition] in another passage of Damascius (which makes us laugh) in Photius, column 1033? “ἀγχίνοιαν καὶ ὀξύτητα ὁ ᾿Ισίδωρος, φησίν” (Δαμάσκιος), “ἔλεγεν οὐ τὴν εὐκίνητον φαντασίαν, οὐδὲ τὴν δοξαστικὴν εὐφυΐαν, οὐδὲ μόνην (ὡς ἄν τις οἰηθείη) διάνοιαν εὔτροχον καὶ γόνιμον ἀληθείας· οὐ γὰρ εἶναι ταύτας αἰτίας, ἀλλὰ τῇ αἰτίᾳ δουλεύειν εἰς νόησιν. Τὴν δὲ εἶναι θείαν κατὰ κωχὴν” (the correction κατοχὴν is given in the margin), “ἠρέμα διανοίγουσαν καὶ ὑποκαθαίρουσαν τὰ τῆς ψυχῆς ὄμματα, καὶ τῷ νοερῷ φωτὶ καταλάμπουσαν, εἰς θέαν καὶ γνώρισιν τοῦ ἀληθοῦς καὶ τοῦ ψευδοῦς. εὐμοιρίαν ταύτην ἐκεῖνος ὠνόμαζε. καὶ ὡς οὐδὲν γένοιτ
' ἂν ὄφελος ἄνευ εὐμοιρίας, ὡς οὐδὲ ὀφθαλμῶν ὑγιαινόντων ὄφελος ἄνευ τοῦ οὐρανίου φωτὸς, διετείνετο” [“Isidore asserted, according to Damascius, that sagacity and sharpness are not quickness of imagination, nor the readiness to form hypotheses nor just (as some might think) a fertile mind which produces truth. In fact, these are not the causes, but are subject to the cause of understanding: which is a divine inspiration that gently opens and refines the eyes of the soul illuminating them with intellectual light, enabling it to see and to know what is true and false. He called this a good disposition, and maintained that without it, there was no profit, like eyes are of no profit without the light of heaven”].3 [4222] “Sollertiam et acrimoniam Isidorus dixit esse imaginationem non facile mobilem, neque ingenium facile opiniones comminiscens, neque solam, ut aliquis putarit, intelligentiam volubilem et gignentem veritatem. Neque enim has esse caussas, sed ad intelligendum caussae servire: divinum vero esse instinctum, sedate aperientem et repurgantem animae oculos, et intelligibili lumine illustrantem, ad verum falsumque et videndum et cognoscendum. Bonam constitutionem ipse appellavit, nullumque sine ea esse emolumentum, neque oculorum sanorum commodum sine coelesti lumine asseveravit.”1 —Moreover, I have said that these principles were common and prevalent in those centuries; but Damascius is right to say “ἐξαίρετον δ' ἦν αὐτῷ” [“for this reason he was different”], etc., and to single out Isidore from the others, because few philosophers before or at the time (or later) had dared so brazenly to repudiate reason, or to subordinate it to feeling, to enthusiasm, to inspiration; to pour scorn on universal sense in order to exalt individual sense, to belittle and condemn Aristotle, precisely because he was a follower τοῦ ἀναγκαίου [of what is necessary], that is, of exact methods of knowing the truth, of reasoning, of convincing people through incontestable principles and the deduction of necessary consequences, and to put Plato, Pythagoras, etc., ahead of him, because they did not reason, because they were πιστεύοντας [putting their faith in] untrammeled feeling and the power of the imagination, which Isidore calls divine, etc.2 (Bologna, 17 October 1826.)
Zibaldone Page 309
