For p. 4389. Similar enthusiasm also produced in the Greek people, even in civilized times and after the introduction of writing, and therefore in very similar circumstances to those of the people of Naples, by the poems recited by the rhapsodes. See the Platonic dialogue Ion.1 (13 Oct. [1828].)
“A. W. Schlegel pense que l’Iliade est composée de 3 poèmes, dont le premier finit avec le neuvième livre, le second avec le dix-huitième, et dont le troisième comprend la mort de Patrocle, celle d’Hector. Il regarde comme des compositions à part la Dolonéide et le vingt-quatrième livre. Les derniers chants, dit-il, sauf les 30 vers qui terminent le tout, se rapprochent déjà de la pompe et de la majesté préméditée de la tragédie” [“A. W. Schlegel thinks that the Iliad is composed of 3 poems, the first of which finishes with the ninth book, the second with the eighteenth, and the third of which comprises the death of Patroclus, and that of Hector. He considers the tenth book and the twenty-fourth book to be separate compositions. The final songs, he says, apart from the 30 lines which conclude the whole, are already close to the pomp and majesty of tragedy”]. Constant, loc. cit. above, p. 462, note. (13 Oct. 1828.)
“On ne peut lire les chants d’Ossian sans être frappé de leur uniformité, et néanmoins Ossian n’a certainement pas été un seul et même barde” [“One cannot read the songs of Ossian without being struck by their uniformity, and yet Ossian was certainly not one single bard”]. Ibid., 457–58. (13 Oct. [1828].)
For p. 4359. “Mais toutes ces différences entre les deux races” (dorienne et ionienne) “sont bien postérieures aux âges homériques: ceux même qui les ont le mieux observées ont reconnu cette vérité. ‘Les Grecs d’Homère,’ remarque M. Heeren, ‘se ressemblent [4409] tous, quelle que soit leur origine. Il n’y a nulle distinction à faire entre les Béotiens, les Athéniens, les Doriens, les Achéens que nous rencontrons dans ses poèmes. Les héros de ces diverses peuplades n’ont rien de local. Les contrastes qui les séparent, proviennent de leur caractère individuel et de leurs qualités personnelles.’ (Heeren, Ideen. Grecs, (sic) p. 117.) Il en est de même des dieux. Bien que Junon soit la divinité spéciale de l’Argolide, Jupiter de l’Arcadie, de la Messénie et de l’Élide, Neptune de la Béotie et de l’Égialée, Minerve de l’Attique, toutes ces spécialités disparaissent dans la mythologie homérique” [“But all these differences between the two races” (Dorian and Ionian) “come long after the ages of Homer: even those who have looked at them most closely have recognized this truth. ‘Homer’s Greeks,’ remarks Monsieur Heeren, ‘are all alike, whatever their origin. There is no distinction to be made between the Boeotians, the Athenians, the Dorians, the Achaeans whom we come across in his poems. There is nothing local about the heroes of these different tribes. The disputes which divide them come from their individual character and their personal attributes.’ (Heeren, Ideen. ‘Grecs,’ (sic)1 p. 117.) The same is true of the gods. Although Juno is the special divinity of Argolis, Jupiter of Arcadia, Mycenae and Aeolia, Neptune of Boeotia and Aegialea, Minerva of Attica, all of these specializations disappear in Homeric mythology”]. Ibid., bk. 7, ch. 3, pp. 286–87. Is this lack of local identity in the characters, etc., of Homer’s Greeks not more likely to come from a failure of art in the poet, rather than, as these writers believed, from a real uniformity among all Greeks at that time (a completely implausible uniformity, considering that there were so many peoples, with different forms of government, and constituting in a certain way so many different nations)? (14 Oct. 1828.) In that case, however,2 the Homeric poems would be by a single author, or by authors all from a single place, which is not improbable. In fact they were hardly known in the Peloponnese at the time of Lycurgus, who took them to Sparta, i.e., took with him from Ionia the rhapsodists who sang them. (14 Oct. 1828.)
[4410] “Les dieux sont jaloux, dit Homère (Il. 7, 455) non seulement du succès, mais de l’adresse et du talent. Toute prospérité mortelle fait ombrage à l’orgueil divin. On trouve chez les Grecs modernes un vestige assez curieux de cette ancienne idée, que les dieux sont jaloux de tout ce qui est distingué. Ils considèrent la louange comme pouvant attirer les plus grands malheurs sur la personne qui en est l’objet, ou qui est propriétaire de la chose qu’on admire; et ils demandent avec instance au panégyriste indiscret de détourner l’effet de ses éloges par quelque signe de mépris qui désarme le corroux céleste (Pouqueville, Voyage en Morée)” [“The gods are jealous, says Homer (Iliad 7, 455), not only of success, but also of ability and talent. All mortal prosperity offends divine pride. A rather curious vestige of this ancient idea that the gods are jealous of everything that is distinguished is found among modern Greeks. They regard praise as something that is capable of attracting the greatest misfortunes on the person who is its object, or who is the owner of the thing that is admired; and they demand insistently of the indiscreet panegyrist to ward off the effect of his praises with some sign of contempt which might disarm the wrath of the heavens. (Pouqueville, Voyage en Morée)”]. Ibid., ch. 6, pp. 344–45, text and notes.1 But the origin of this could also be the fear of Turkish extortion and slavery. (14 Oct. 1828.)
Death considered by the ancients as the greatest of misfortunes: the ancients found consolation only in life, their dead had no other comfort but to imitate the life they had lost; the sojourn of souls, good or bad, was a sojourn of grief, sadness, exile; they continually looked back upon life with desire, etc. etc. On all these things observed by me elsewhere [→Z 79, 116, 2943–44], see Constant, ibid., bk. 7, ch. 9, tome 3. (14 Oct. 1828.)
The ancient gods of Greece, etc., were monstrous and frightening figures in the imagination of the Greeks, etc., and in their simulacra, etc.; gradually embellished with the progress of civilization: an indication that the origin of religion was fear, etc., as I suggest elsewhere [→Z 2206–208, 2387–89, 3638–43, 4126]. See ibid., ch. 5. (14 Oct. 1828.)
[4411] “Il y a chez tous les peuples, comme le remarque un érudit célèbre (Wolff (sic),1 Prolegomena, p. 69), un fait qui constate l’époque à laquelle l’usage de l’écriture devient général; c’est la composition d’ouvrages en prose. Aussi longtemps qu’il n’en existe point, c’est une preuve que l’écriture est encore peu usitée. Dans le dénûment de matériaux pour écrire, les vers sont plus faciles à retenir que la prose, et ils sont aussi plus faciles à graver. La prose naît immédiatement de la possibilité que les hommes se procurent de se confier, pour la durée de leurs compositions, à un autre instrument que leur mémoire” [“In all peoples, as a famous scholar remarks (Wolf, Prolegomena, p. 69), there is one fact which establishes the era in which writing becomes general; it is the composition of works in prose. As long as there are none, it is evidence that writing is still little used. Given the penury of writing materials, verse is easier to remember than prose, and also simpler to carve. Prose is born directly from the possibility that human beings acquire of entrusting themselves, for the duration of their compositions, to an instrument other than their memory”]. Ibid., bk. 8, ch. 3, pp. 441–42. (15 Oct. 1828.)
*“In the Grammaire comparée des langues de l’Europe latine avec celle des troubadours, page 302, I have proved that the present of the infinitive, preceded by a negative, sometimes stood in for the imperative; that this form was found in old French as well as in Italian: but the verb must necessarily be preceded by the negation, as the verb is in this case: NE t’accompagner MIE À home de malvese vie.”* Raynouard. —Journal des Savans, 1825, p. 184. March.2 (15 Oct. 1828.)
On the use of ἀκμὴν (ἀκόμη in modern Greek) for ἔτι [still, as yet], see Monsieur Letronne in “Nouvel Examen critique et historique de l’Inscription grecque du roi nubien Silko,” article 1, line 12 of the Inscription, in the Journal des Savans, 1825, p. 108. February. (15 Oct. 1828.)
[4412] For p. 4364. The correct way of citing this Essay by Monsieur Letronne, is: “Nouvel examen critique et historique de l’Inscription grecque du roi nubien Silco,” Historical part. Section 2. —Journal des Savans, 1825, May (
3rd and last article).1 (15 Oct. 1828.)
For p. 4407. The correct title is: Nomadische Streifereien unter den Kalmüken (that is, Promenades nomades chez les Kalmuks) Riga 1804, 4 vols. 8°, work translated by Monsieur Moris into French: Voyage de Benjamin Bergmann chez les Kalmuks (made in 1802 and 1803); Châtillon-sur-Seine, 1825, 1 vol. 8° (this does not include the last 2 vols. of the German work, which contain translations from Mongolian, etc.) (Journal des Savans, 1825, pp. 363ff. June).
The benefit of patience, etc. A tedious or tiresome task, a journey, etc., becomes more difficult than ever when it is about to end, the final miles seem the longest, etc., not just because one is more tired by then, but because impatience grows thanks to that desperation to arrive, which comes from having the end in sight. (17 Oct. 1828, Florence.)
For p. 4388. This example could confirm the belief that the Homeric diaskeuasts came only a short time after Peisistratus, for which see p. 4355. (17 Oct. 1828.)
For p. 4359.2 The epic forms part of lyric poetry, not simply because of its origin, but in its totality, insofar as it is able to conform with nature, and true poetry, that is, consisting in [4413] short songs, such as those of Homer, Ossian, etc., and hymns. See p. 4461.
For p. 4372. In fact Italian is considered to be the modern language with the oldest literature, because it has the oldest books that are truly literary, and which have exercised (and continue to exercise) a perpetual influence upon the national language and literature. But for antiquity of writing alone, that is, of verses and prose written in vernacular language (including long poems, long Chronicles, etc.), the Italian language falls a long way short of French and Spanish, etc., not to mention German, etc. (indeed in this respect Italian is among the more modern, if not the most modern). Nevertheless it is true that Italian literature is the oldest of the living literatures, because Dante, Petrarch, and Boccaccio are the oldest classic writers among the moderns, the oldest writers that are read and referred to, not only by national scholars but by all educated Europeans.
When I say: “nature desired, did not desire, intended, etc.,” by nature I mean that intelligence or power or necessity or fortune, whatever it may be, which has formed the eye to see, the ear to hear, and which has coordinated effects to the partial final causes which are apparent in the world. (20 Oct. 1828.)
For p. 4406. Anyone who said that Aeschylus’s Persians is by a Persian, or composed in the Persian manner and spirit, because the interest and compassion therein is entirely favorable to the Persians, would be correct from the modern point of view, even though he would in fact be wrong. It was written by a Greek, belonging to the nation responsible for those misfortunes, etc. (indeed, if I am not mistaken, Aeschylus fought against the Persians), and written to be performed [4414] to Greeks.1 Considered in this way, The Persians is really the pendant [counterpart] of the Iliad (and the commentary), and the reverse of Phrynichus’s Μιλήτου ἅλωσις [Conquest of Miletus].2
Umbra [shadow, darkness], ombra–Sombra (Spanish), Sombre (French).
For. p. 4363, margin. Because the grammarians, diaskeuasts, etc., were far from successful in rendering all Homeric verses metrical.
For p. 4369. Thus all of the Caledonian poems were attributed to Ossian:3 to Homer all of those which now make up the Iliad and Odyssey. Among these, supposing that this Homer is a real person, it is very difficult, as with Ossian, to determine which are his, which another’s, and even if any at all are his; indeed it is truly impossible. I say nothing about the many other poems attributed to Homer (and Hesiod), including the Batrachomyomachia, which is such an obvious parody of the Iliad: and this since the time of Herodotus, who mentions τὰ Κύπρια ἔπεα [Cypria] as a work attributed to Homer, an attribution which, however, he rejects (bk. 1, ch. 117, Schweighaeuser), and likewise the ᾿Επίγονοι [Epigoni], over whose attribution to Homer he also has doubts (bk. 4, ch. 32, Schweighaeuser).4 (21 Oct. [1828].)
The observation that Homer (to use this collective name, as Constant says)5 in describing his own poetry, never says write, but always sing or say, is greater evidence than might be thought that his verses in fact were not written. We, even though our verses are written, talk about singing them, because the ancient language, i.e., the language of Homer, used this expression in poetic composition. But in the language of Homer, there could be no other reason [4415] for using it and for never mentioning writing, unless poems were in fact sung without being written. I have shown elsewhere [→Z 4214] that wherever a formed poetic language exists, this language is none other than an ancient language. But the times of Homer could not have a poetic language (except in style, like the French), because their language had no antiquity. And in fact they did not have a separate poetic language, and Homer names all the customs of those times, names the cities, people, magistrates, etc., by their proper and prosaic names. This happened in all primitive poetry, and likewise Dante is full of proper and prosaic names, taken from geography (Montereggione,1 etc. etc.), the customs of his times, titles, etc., names which have now either disappeared from poetic language, or are only allowed in the way they were used by Dante. See p. 4426. If therefore the practice in Homer’s time had been for poetry to be written, Homer would have straightforwardly said write. Seeing that he never says this, not even by way of periphrasis or metaphor (as does the author of the Batrachomyomachia at the very beginning, in the invocation; who Wolf states, as if it were proven, to have lived probably around the time of Aeschylus;2 see p. 4483) is almost conclusive proof that he did not write it down. (21 Oct. 1828, Florence.)
Why is modernity, newness, never or unlikely to be romantic;3 and antiquity, oldness, the opposite? Because almost all pleasures of the imagination and feeling consist of remembering—which is the same as saying that they exist in the past rather than in the present. (22 Oct. 1828, Florence.)
[4416] “Qu’on jette une poultre entre ces deux tours de Notre-Dame de Paris, d’une grosseur telle qu’il nous la fault à nous promener dessus, il n’y a sagesse philosophique de si grande fermeté qui puisse nous donner courage d’y marcher comme si elle estoit à terre” [“If you lay a plank between the two towers of Notre Dame in Paris, wide enough for us to walk on, there is no philosophical wisdom so firm that could give us the courage to walk across it as though it were on the ground”]. Montaigne, Essais, bk. 2, ch. 12. Pascal (Pensées) appropriated this idea: “Le plus grand philosophe du monde, sur une planche plus large qu’il ne faut pour marcher à son ordinaire, s’il y avoit au-dessous un précipice, quoique sa raison le convainque de sa sûreté, son imagination prévaudra” [“If the greatest philosopher in the world, on a plank wider than necessary for him to walk as he ordinarily does, had a precipice underneath him, however much his reason convinces him of his security, his imagination will take over”].1 Tightrope walkers do even more; but this does not destroy the aptness of the above observation. (Florence, 23 Oct. 1828.)
Grace in short is generally none other than ugliness in beauty. Ugliness in ugliness, and pure beauty, are both alien to grace.2 (Florence, 25 Oct. 1828.)
For p. 4369. “Le nom d’Ésope étoit d’ailleurs devenu dans la Grèce une espèce de sceau banal, qu’on attachoit à tous les apologues utiles et ingénieux, comme ceux de Pilpay, de Lockman, de Salomon, dans l’Orient” [“Aesop’s name had anyway become in Greece a kind of all-purpose seal, which people applied to every ingenious and useful apologue, such as those of Pilpay, Lockman, Solomon, in the East”]. (The same with all the Psalms attributed to David, etc.). Charles Nodier, Questions de littérature légale, 2nd ed., Paris 1828. § 8, pp. 68–69. “C’est le propre de l’érudition populaire de rattacher toutes ses connoissances à quelque nom vulgaire. Il y a peu de grandes actions de mer qu’on n’attribue à Jean Bart, peu d’espiègleries grivoises qu’on ne mette sur le compte de Roquelaure. Il en est [4417] de même, pour la foule, des auteurs à la portée desquels son intelligence peut s’élever. Il y a cent cinquante ans qu’un bon mot ne pouvoit éclore que sous le nom de Brus
cambille ou de Tabarin” [“It is characteristic of popular learning to attach all of its knowledge to some widely known name. There are few seafaring exploits that are not attributed to Jean Bart, few lewd tricks that are not laid at the door of Roquelaure. It is the same, as far as the crowd is concerned, with authors whom its intelligence can bring it within reach of. A hundred and fifty years ago, a witty remark could only blossom under the name of Bruscambille or Tabarin”]. Ibid., note, pp. 68–69. (Florence, 26 Oct. 1828.)
I took a little wine, quanto per [enough to] get to sleep ὅσον καθεύδειν, or πρὸς τὸ καθεύδειν [for getting to sleep], etc. (3 Nov. 1828.)
Οἶκος–vicus [house—row of houses].
With regard to the Italian and Latin diaskeuasts, see Perticari (Degli scrittori del Trecento) where he describes the terrible spelling of Petrarch, Tasso, etc., in their own hand and where he shows that Latin writers of the classical age copying or citing Ennius and the other ancients, generally adapted them to modern spelling.1 (3 Nov. 1828.)
The Divina Commedia is none other than a long Lyric poem, where the poet and his own feelings are always to the fore. (Florence, 3 Nov. 1828.)
῾Ως ἔρχομαι φράσων, ὡς ἔρχομαι λέξων, περὶ οὗ ἔρχομαι λέξων, and likewise; phrases which are very frequent in Herodotus, in the very simple meaning of the French comme je vais dire [as I am going to say], etc. (Florence, 8 Nov. 1828, Saturday.)
Fratta [hedge, thicket]—φράττω [to put up a fence], καταφρακτὸς [enclosable], etc. (Recanati, 30 Nov. 1828, Sunday.)2
I do not know how to express the love which I have always felt toward my brother Carlo, except by calling it amor di sogno [dream love]. (30 Nov. [1828].)
“Memories of my life.” —Happiness felt by me at the time [4418] of composing, the best time I have ever spent in my life, and where I would be happy to stay as long as I live. To pass the days without noticing, the hours seeming so short, often wondering to myself how easily they pass.1 See p. 4477. —Pleasure, enthusiasm, and emulation caused in me in my early youth by the games and antics I played with my siblings which involved the use and testing of bodily strength.2 For some time, this kind of small glory eclipsed in my eyes that other, for which with my daily studies I was continually and so greedily searching. (30 Nov. [1828].)
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