,,essays ,,and ,,dialogues    ,,of      
,,giacomo ,,leopardi4    ,,translated   
,,by    ,,charles ,,edwardes4    ,with  
,biographical ,sketch4    ,,london3     
,,tr,,bner  ,,co41 ,,ludgate ,,hill4    
#ahhb4        ,,contents4               
,,biographical ,,sketch        ,,history
 ,,of ,,the ,,human ,,race              
,,dialogue ,,between ,,hercules ,,and   
,,atlas      ,,dialogue ,,between       
,,fashion ,,and ,,death      ,,prize    
,,competition ,,of ,,the ,,academy ,,of 
,,sillographs      ,,dialogue ,,between 
,a ,,goblin ,,and ,a ,,gnome            
,,dialogue ,,between ,,malambruno ,,and 
,,farfarello      ,,dialogue ,,between  
,,nature ,,and ,a ,,soul      ,,dialogue
 ,,between ,,the ,,earth ,,and ,,the    
,,moon      ,,the ,,wager ,,of          
,,prometheus      ,,dialogue ,,between  
,a ,,natural ,,philosopher ,,and ,a     
,,metaphysician      ,,dialogue         
,,between ,,tasso ,,and ,,his ,,familiar
 ,,spirit      ,,dialogue ,,between     
,,nature ,,and ,,an ,,icelander         

,,parini ,,on ,,glory      ,,dialogue   
,,between ,,ruysch ,,and ,,his ,,mummies
      ,,remarkable ,,sayings ,,of       
,,philip ,,ottonieri      ,,dialogue    
,,between ,,columbus ,,and ,,gutierrez  
,,panegyric ,,of ,,birds      ,,the     
,,song ,,of ,,the ,,wild ,,cock         
,,dialogue ,,between ,,timandro ,,and   
,,eleandro      ,,copernicus            
,,dialogue ,,between ,,an ,,almanac     
,,seller ,,and ,a ,,passer-,,by         
,,dialogue ,,between ,,plotinus ,,and   
,,porphyrius      ,,comparison ,,of     
,,the ,,last ,,words ,,of ,,brutus ,,and
 ,,theophrastus      ,,dialogue         
,,between ,,tristano ,,and ,a ,,friend  
,,biographical ,,sketch4      ,manure   
with ,despair1 but let it be genuine1   
and you will have a noble               
harvest4--,,rahel4      ,the name of    
,giacomo ,leopardi is not yet a         
household word in the mouths  of        
,englishmen4 ,few of us have heard of   
him2 still fewer have read  any of his  
writings4 ,if known at all1 he is       

probably coupled1 in a                  
semi-contemptuous manner1 with other    
foreign representatives of a phase  of  
poetic thought1 the influence of which  
has passed its zenith4 ,as  a           
contemporary of ,byron1 ,leopardi is    
perhaps credited with a certain  amount 
of psychological plagiarism1 and        
possibly disregarded as a mere          
satellite of the greater planet4 ,but if
 this be so1 it is unjust4 ,his  fame is
 his own1 and time makes his isolation  
and grand individuality  more and more  
prominent4 ,what ,byron and ,shelley1   
,millevoye1 ,baudelaire  and ,gautier1  
,heine and ,platen1 ,pouchkine and      
,lermontoff1 are to  ,england1 ,france1 
,germany1 and ,russia respectively1     
,leopardi is1 in a  measure1 to ,italy4 
,but he is more than this4 ,the jewel of
 his renown  is triple-faceted4         
,philology1 poetry1 and philosophy were 
each in turn  cultivated by him1 and he 
was of too brilliant an intellect not to
  excel in them all4 ,as a philologist  

he astonished ,niebuhr and delighted    
,creuzer2 as a poet he has been compared
 with ,dante2 as a philosopher  he takes
 high rank among the greatest and most  
original men of modern  times4 ,one of  
his biographers 7,dovari3 ,studio di ,g4
 ,leopardi1 ,ancona1  #ahgg7 has termed 
him the greatest philosopher1 poet1 and 
prose-writer  of the nineteenth century4
 ,though such eulogy may be1 and        
doubtless  is1 excessive1 the fact that 
it has been given testifies to the      
extraordinary nature of the man who is  
its subject4    ,in ,germany and        
,france1 ,leopardi is perhaps as well   
known and highly  appreciated as in     
,italy4 ,his poems have been translated 
into the  languages of those countries2 
and in ,france1 within the last year1   
two  more or less complete versions of  
his prose writings have appeared4       
,biographies1 reviews1 and lighter      
notices of the celebrated ,italian  are 
of repeated and increasing occurrence on
 the ,continent4 ,england1  however1    

knows little of him1 and hitherto none  
of his writings have  been made         
accessible to the ,english reading      
public4 ,the following brief  outline of
 his life may in part help to explain   
the peculiarly sombre  philosophical    
views which he held1 and of which his   
works are chiefly  an elaboration4      
,giacomo ,leopardi was born at          
,recanati1 a small town about fifteen   
miles  from ,ancona1 on the #bith ,june 
#agih4 ,he was of noble birth1 equally  
on  the side of his father and mother4  
,provided with a tutor at an early  age1
 he soon left him far behind in         
knowledge2 and when only eight  years   
old1 he discarded the ,greek grammar he 
had hitherto used1 and  deliberately set
 himself the task of reading in         
chronological order the  ,greek authors 
of his father's library4 ,it was due to 
his own industry1  and his father's     
care1 that later he acquired a perfect  
acquaintance  with classical literature4
 ,in #ahaj he received his first        

tonsure1 in  token of his dedication to 
the ,church2 but this early promise was 
not  destined to be fulfilled4 ,before  
he was eighteen years of age ,leopardi  
had attained recognised distinction for 
the amount and matter of his  erudition4
 ,the mere catalogue of his             
writings--chiefly philological--by  that
 time is of sufficient length to excite 
wonder1 and their  nature is still more 
surprising4 ,latin commentaries and     
classical  annotations were apparently  
child's play to him4 ,writing in #ahae  
to  the ,roman scholar ,cancellieri1 who
 had noticed one of these classical     
productions1 ,leopardi says3 ,i see     
myself secured to posterity in  your    
writings4444 ,commerce with the learned 
is not only useful1 but  necessary for  
me4 ,he was only seventeen when he      
completed a task  which represented the 
sum of all his early study4 ,this was an
 ,essay  on the ,popular ,errors of the 
,ancients1 of considerable length 7first
  published posthumously71 in the course

 of which he cites more than four       
hundred authors1 ancient and modern4 ,a 
single extract will suffice to  show    
that his youthful powers of expression  
were as precocious as his  learning1    
though his judgment was doubtless at    
fault4 ,he thus reviews  the wisdom of  
the ,greeks3        ,the philosophy of  
the ancients was the science of         
differences2 and their academies were   
the seats of confusion      and         
disorder4 ,aristotle condemned what     
,plato had taught4      ,socrates mocked
 ,antisthenes2 and ,zeno scandalised    
,epicurus4      ,pythagoreans1          
,platonians1 ,peripatetics1 ,stoics1    
,cynics1      ,epicureans1 ,sceptics1   
,cyrenaics1 ,megarics1 ,eclectics       
scuffled with and ridiculed one another2
 while the truly      wise laughed at   
them all4 ,the people1 left to          
themselves      during this hubbub1 were
 not idle1 but laboured silently to     
increase the vast mound of human errors4
    ,he ends this ,essay with a eulogy  

of the ,christian religion3 ,to live  in
 the true ,church is the only way to    
combat superstition4 ,shortly           
afterwards1 increasing knowledge1 which 
,goethe has called the  antipodes of    
faith1 enabled him to perceive that     
,roman ,catholicism1  the antidote which
 he then prescribed for superstition1   
was itself full  charged with the poison
 he sought to destroy4    ,in #ahag     
,leopardi made acquaintance by letter   
with ,pietro ,giordani1 one  of the     
leading literary men of the day1 and a  
man of varied experience  and knowledge4
 ,in his first letter ,leopardi opens   
his heart to his new  friend3        ,i 
have very greatly1 perhaps immoderately1
 yearned for      glory 444 ,i burn with
 love for ,italy1 and thank ,heaven that
      ,i am an ,italian4 ,if ,i live1 ,i
 will live for literature2 for          
aught else1 ,i would not live if ,i     
could4 7#bast ,march #ahag47    ,a month
 later1 from the same source we are able
 to discern traces  of that             

characteristic of ,leopardi's           
temperament which by certain  critics is
 thought to explain his philosophy4     
,writing to ,giordani1  he expatiates on
 the discomforts of ,recanati and its   
climate2 and  proceeds3--        ,added 
to all this is the obstinate1 black1 and
 barbarous      melancholy which devours
 and destroys me1 which is nourished    
by study1 and yet increases when ,i     
forego study4 ,i have in      past times
 had much experience of that sweet      
sadness which      generates fine       
sentiments1 and which1 better than joy1 
may      be said to resemble the        
twilight2 but my condition now is       
like an eternal and horrible night4 ,a  
poison saps my powers      of body and  
mind4--    ,in the same letter he gives 
his opinion on the relative nature of   
prose  and poetry4        ,poetry       
requires infinite study and application1
 and its art      is so profound1 that  
the more you advance in proficiency1 so 
much the further does perfection seem to

 recede4444 ,to be a      good prose    
writer first1 and a poet later1 seems to
 me to be      contrary to nature1 which
 first creates the poet1 and then       
by the cooling operation of age concedes
 the maturity and      tranquillity     
necessary for prose4        7#cjth      
,april #ahag47    ,the correspondence   
between ,leopardi and ,giordani lasted  
for five years1  and it is from their   
published letters that we are able to   
form the  best possible estimate of     
,leopardi's character and aspirations4  
,his own  letters serve as the index of 
his physical and mental state4 ,in them 
we trace the gradual failure of his     
health1 the growth of sombreness  in his
 disposition1 and the change which his  
religious convictions  underwent4       
,during his twentieth year he suffered  
severely in mind and  body4 ,forced to  
lay aside his studies1 he was constantly
 a prey to  ennui1 with all its         
attendant discomforts4 ,he thus writes  
to ,giordani  of his condition1 in      

,august #ahag3        ,my ill-health    
makes me unhappy1 because ,i am not a   
philosopher who is careless of life1 and
 because ,i am      compelled to stand  
aloof from my beloved studies4444       
,another      thing that makes me       
unhappy1 is thought4 ,i believe you     
know1      but ,i hope you have not     
experienced1 how thought can crucify    
and martyrise any one who thinks        
somewhat differently from      others4  
,i have for a long time suffered such   
torments1      simply because thought   
has always had me entirely in its       
power2 and it will kill me unless ,i    
change my condition4      ,solitude is  
not made for those who burn and are     
consumed in      themselves4 7#ast      
,august #ahag47    ,his mental activity 
was numbed by his physical incapacity2  
the two  combined reduced him to a state
 of despair4 ,there is a noble fortitude
  in the following words of another     
letter addressed to ,giordani3--        
,i have for a long time firmly believed 

that ,i must die      within two or     
three years1 because ,i have so ruined  
myself      by seven years of immoderate
 and incessant study4444 ,i am          
conscious that my life cannot be other  
than unhappy1 yet ,i      am not        
frightened2 and if ,i could in any way  
be useful1 ,i      would endeavour to   
bear my condition without losing heart4 
,i have passed years so full of         
bitterness1 that it seems               
impossible for worse to succeed them2   
nevertheless ,i will      not despair   
even if my sufferings do increase 444 ,i
 am born      for endurance4            
7#b;d ,march #ahah47    ,leopardi was   
now of age1 and at the time of life when
 mans aspirations  are keenest4 ,he had 
repeatedly tried to induce his father to
 let him go  forth into the world1 and  
take his place in the school of         
intellect2  but all his endeavours were 
in vain4 ,though seconded by ,giordani1 
who  some months before had become      
personally acquainted with his young    

correspondent during a visit of a few   
days to ,casa ,leopardi1 the ,count  was
 resolute in refusing to grant his son  
permission to leave ,recanati4          
,giacomo1 driven to desperation1        
conceived a plan by which he hoped to   
fulfil his desire in spite of the       
paternal prohibition4 ,the following    
extract from the ,count's diary         
furnishes the gist of the matter1 and   
also gives us some small insight into   
his own character3--        ,giacomo1   
wishing to leave the country1 and seeing
 that ,i      was opposed to his doing  
so1 thought to obtain my consent by     
a trick4 ,he requested ,count ,broglio  
to procure a passport      for ,milan1  
so that ,i might be alarmed on hearing  
of it1      and thus let him go4 ,i knew
 about it1 because ,solari wrote        
unwittingly to ,antici1 wishing ,giacomo
 a pleasant journey4 ,i      immediately
 asked ,broglio to send me the passport1
 which he      did with an accompanying 
letter4 ,i showed all to my son1 and    

deposited the passport in an open       
cupboard1 telling him he      could take
 it at his leisure4 ,so all ended4      
,thus the plot failed1 and ,giacomo was 
constrained to resign himself1  as best 
he could1 to a continuance of the life  
worse than death  which he lived in     
,recanati4 ,two letters written in      
anticipation of the  success of his     
scheme1 one to his father1 and the other
 to ,carlo1 his  brother1 are of most   
painful interest4 ,they suggest unfilial
 conduct  on his part1 and unfatherly   
treatment of his son on the part of     
,count  ,monaldo4        ,i am weary of 
prudence1 he writes in the letter to    
,carlo1      which serves only as a clog
 to the enjoyment of youth 444      ,how
 thankful ,i should be if the step ,i am
 taking might act      as a warning to  
our parents1 as far as you and our      
brothers      are concerned6 ,i heartily
 trust you will be less unhappy         
than myself4 ,i care little for the     
opinion of the world2      nevertheless1

 exonerate me if you have any           
opportunity of      doing so4444 ,what  
am ,i8 a mere good-for-nothing creature4
      ,i realise this most intensely1   
and the knowledge of      it has        
determined me to take this step1 to     
escape the      self-contemplation which
 so disgusts me4 ,so long as ,i         
possessed self-esteem ,i was prudent2   
but now that ,i despise      myself1 ,i 
can only find relief by casting myself  
on fortune1      and seeking dangers1   
worthless thing that ,i am4444 ,it were 
better 7humanly speaking7 for my parents
 and myself that ,i      had never been 
born1 or had died ere now4 ,farewell1   
dear      brother4    ,the letter to his
 father is in a different key4 ,it is   
stern and severe1  and contains         
reproofs1 direct and inferential1 for   
his apparent  indifference to his sons' 
future prospects4 ,giacomo upbraids him 
with  intentional blindness to the      
necessities of his position as a youth  
of  generally acknowledged ability1 for 

whom ,recanati could offer no scope1  or
 chance of renown4 ,he goes on to say3  
,now that the law has made me my own    
master1 ,i have      determined to delay
 no longer in taking my destiny on my   
own shoulders4 ,i know that man's       
felicity consists in      contentment1  
and that ,i shall therefore have more   
chance      of happiness in begging my  
bread than through whatever      bodily 
comforts ,i may enjoy here4444 ,i know  
that ,i shall be      deemed mad2 and ,i
 also know that all great men have been 
so regarded4 ,and because the career of 
almost every great      genius has begun
 with despair1 ,i am not disheartened at
      the same commencement in mine4 ,i 
would rather be unhappy      than       
insignificant1 and suffer than endure   
tedium4444      ,fathers usually have a 
better opinion of their sons than       
other people2 but you1 on the contrary1 
judge no one so      unfavourably1 and  
therefore never imagined we might be    
born      for greatness4444 ,it has     

pleased ,heaven1 as a punishment1       
to ordain that the only youths of this  
town with somewhat      loftier         
aspirations than the ,recanatese should 
belong to      you1 as a trial of       
patience1 and that the only father who  
would regard such sons as a misfortune  
should be ours4    ,the relationship    
between ,giacomo and his parents has    
been a vexed  question with all his     
biographers1 who1 for the most part1 are
 of the  opinion that they had little   
sympathy with him in the mental         
sufferings  he underwent4 ,the ,count   
has been called despota sistematico in  
the  administration of his household2   
and the most favourably disposed        
writers have agreed to regard him as    
somewhat of a ,roman father4 ,but  there
 does not seem to be sufficient evidence
 to support the theory  that he was     
intentionally harsh and repressive to   
the extent of cruelty  in his treatment 
of his children4 ,he was an ,italian of 
the old school1  and as such his conduct

 was probably different from that of    
more  modern ,italian fathers2 but that 
was all4    ,in #ahai1 when his whole   
being was in a turmoil of disquiet1     
,leopardi  made his dbut as a poet1 with
 two ,odes--the one addressed to ,italy1
  and the other on the monument to      
,dante1 then recently erected in        
,florence4 ,the following literal       
translation of the first stanza of the  
,ode to ,italy gives but a faint echo of
 the original verse3--        ,o my     
country1 ,i see the walls and arches1   
the columns1      the statues1 and the  
deserted towers of our ancestors2 but   
their glory ,i see not1 nor do ,i see   
the laurel and the iron      which girt 
our forefathers4 ,to-day1 unarmed1 thou 
showest a      naked brow and naked     
breast4 ,alas6 how thou art wounded6    
,how      pale thou art1 and bleeding6  
,that ,i should see thee thus6      ,o  
queen of beauty6 ,i call on heaven and  
earth1 and ask who      thus has humbled
 thee4 ,and as a crowning ill1 her arms 

are      weighed with chains2 her hair  
dishevelled and unveiled2 and      on   
the ground she sits disconsolate and    
neglected1 her face      hid in her     
knees1 and weeping4 ,weep1 ,italia mine1
 for thou      hast cause1 since thou   
wert born to conquer 'neath ,fortune's  
smiles and frowns4        ,o patria mia1
 vedo le mura e gli archi      ,e le    
colonne e i simulacri e l' erme         
,torri degli avi nostri1      ,ma la    
gloria non vedo1      ,non vedo il lauro
 e il ferro ond' eran carchi      ,i    
nostri padri antichi4 ,or fatta inerme1 
,nuda la fronte e nudo il petto mostri4 
,oim quante ferite1      ,che lividor1  
che sangue6 oh qual ti veggio1          
,formosissima donna6 ,io chiedo al      
cielo1      ,e al mondo3 dite1 dite3    
,chi la ridusse a tale8 ,e questo       
peggio1      ,che di catene ha carene   
ambe le braccia4      ,si che sparte le 
chiome e senza velo      ,siede in terra
 negletta e sconsolata1                 
,nascondendo la faccia      ,tra le     

ginocchia1 e piange4      ,piangi1 che  
ben hai donde1 ,italia mia1      ,le    
genti a vincer nata      ,et nella      
fausta sorte e nella ria4    ,these     
odes1 which represent the first fruits  
of his muse1 ring with  enthusiasm4     
,they are the expression of a soul fired
 with its own flame1  which serves to   
illumine and vivify a theme then only   
too real in his  country's experience1  
the sufferings of ,italy4 ,patriotism   
pervades  his earliest verse2 sadness   
and hopelessness that of later times4   
,for  these two odes ,giordani bestowed 
unsparing eulogy on his young protg4    
,before their appearance he had begun to
 regard ,leopardi as the rising  genius 
of ,italy1 and had not hesitated to say 
to him1 ,inveni hominem6  ,now1 however1
 his admiration was unbounded2 he thus  
apostrophised him3  ,o nobilissima1 e   
altissima1 e fortissima anima6 ,he      
referred to the  reception of his poems 
at ,piacenza in these terms3 ,they speak
 of you  as a god4    ,in #ahbb         

,leopardi first left home4 ,repeatedly1 
year after year1 he  had besought his   
father to permit him to see something of
 the world4  ,he longed to associate    
with the men who represented the        
intellect of  his country4 ,with his own
 fellow-townsmen he had little sympathy1
 and  they on their part regarded him as
 a phenomenon1 eccentric rather than    
remarkable4 ,they gave him the titles of
 little pedant1 philosopher1  hermit1   
c41 in half ironical appreciation of his
 learning4 ,as he  was naturally very   
sensitive1 these petty vexations became 
intensified  to him1 and were doubtless 
one of the chief reasons of his         
unfailing  dislike for his native place4
 ,in one of his essays1 that of ,parini 
on ,glory1 we discover a reference to   
,leopardi's life at ,recanati1  which   
place is really identical with the      
,bosisio of the essay4 ,yet the  prophet
 who is not a prophet in his own country
 when living1 seldom  fails of          
recognition after death4 ,a statue is   

now raised to ,leopardi  in the place   
that refused to honour him in life4 ,the
 appreciative  recognition he failed to 
attract in ,recanati1 he hoped to obtain
 at  ,rome4 ,but ,count ,monaldo1 his   
father1 long maintained his resistance  
to  his son's wishes4 ,himself of a     
comparatively unaspiring mind1 content  
with the fame he could acquire in his   
own province1 he saw no necessity  why  
his son should be more ambitious4       
,probably also his paternal love  made  
him fearful of the dangers of the world1
 to which his son would  be exposed4 ,of
 these hazards he knew nothing from     
experience2 and  they were doubtless    
magnified to him by his imagination4    
,yet1 though  naturally a man rather    
deficient in character than otherwise1  
,count  ,monaldo was1 as we have seen1  
in his own household1 a stern not to    
say unreasonable disciplinarian4 ,only  
after repeated solicitations  from his  
son1 and remonstrances from his friends1
 did he give ,giacomo  the desired      

permission1 chiefly in the hope that at 
,rome he might be  induced to enter the 
,church1 towards which he had latterly  
manifested  some signs of repugnance4   
,the five months spent by ,leopardi in  
,rome  sufficed to disenchant him of his
 ideas of the world of life4 ,a day or  
two after his arrival he writes to      
,carlo his brother3        ,i do not    
derive the least pleasure from the great
 things ,i      see1 because ,i know    
that they are wonderful1 without feeling
      that they are so4 ,i assure you   
their multitude and grandeur            
wearied me the first day4        7#beth 
,november #ahbb47    ,again1 to ,paulina
 his sister3 ,the world is not          
beautiful2 rather it is  insupportable1 
unless seen from a distance4    ,ever   
prone to regard the real through the    
medium of the ideal1 he was  bitterly   
disappointed with his first experience  
of men4 ,the scholar1  whom he was      
prepared to revere1 proved on           
acquaintance to be--        a blockhead1

 a torrent of small talk1 the most      
wearisome      and afflicting man on    
earth4 ,he talks about the merest       
trifles with the deepest interest1 of   
the greatest things      with an        
infinite imperturbability4 ,he drowns   
you in      compliments and exaggerated 
praises1 and does both in so            
freezing a manner1 and with such        
nonchalance1 that to hear      him one  
would think an extraordinary man the    
most ordinary      thing in the world4  
7#beth ,november #ahbb47    ,the        
stupidest ,recanatese he termed wiser   
and more sensible than the  wisest      
,roman4 ,again1 to his father he        
complains of the superficiality  of the 
so-called scholars of ,rome4            
,they all strive to reach immortality in
 a coach1 as bad      ,christians would 
fain enter ,paradise4 ,according to     
them1 the      sum of human wisdom1     
indeed the only true science of man1    
is antiquity4 ,hitherto ,i have not     
encountered a lettered      ,eoman who  

understands the term literature as      
meaning      anything except archology4 
,philosophy1 ethics1 politics1          
eloquence1 poetry1 philology1 are       
unknown things in ,rome1      and are   
regarded as childish playthings compared
 to the      discovery of some bit of   
copper or stone of the time of ,mark    
,antony or ,agrippa4 ,the best of it is 
that one cannot find      a single      
,eoman who really knows ,latin or       
,greek2 without a      perfect          
acquaintance with which languages1 it is
 clear that      antiquity ,cannot be   
,studied4 7#ith ,december #ahbb47    ,he
 was disheartened by the depraved       
condition of ,roman literature4         
,everywhere he saw merit disregarded or 
trodden under foot4 ,the city was  full 
of professional poets and poetesses1 and
 literary cliques formed  for the       
purpose of the self-laudation of their  
members4 ,illustrious  names of the past
 were insulted by the pseudo-great men  
of the day1  whose fame was founded on  

writings of the most contemptible       
nature4  ,these circumstances made      
,leopardi confess1 in a letter to his   
brother1  that had he not        the    
harbour of posterity1 and the conviction
 that in time      all would take its   
proper place 7illusory hope1 but the    
only1 and most necessary one for the    
true scholar71 7#afth      ,december    
#ahbb47    he would abandon literature  
once for all4 ,but it was only during   
moments of depression that such words as
 these escaped him4 ,he  loved study for
 its own sake2 fame was1 after all1 but 
a secondary  consideration4 ,nor were   
men of genuine worth entirely wanting in
 ,rome4  ,niebuhr1 then ,prussian       
ambassador at the ,papal ,court1        
,reinhold1 the  ,dutch ambassador1 ,mai1
 subsequently a cardinal1 were noble    
exceptions  to the general inferiority4 
,by them ,leopardi was highly esteemed4 
,niebuhr especially was profoundly      
struck with his genius4 ,i have at  last
 seen a modern ,italian worthy of the   

old ,italians and the ancient  ,romans1 
was his remark to ,de ,bunsen after his 
first interview with the  young scholar4
 ,both he and ,de ,bunsen became firm   
friends with ,leopardi4  ,they          
endeavoured their utmost to procure for 
him some official  appointment from     
,cardinal ,consalvi1 then ,secretary of 
,state1 and his  successor2 but owing to
 the intrigues1 prejudices1 and         
disturbances of  the ,papal ,court they 
were unable to effect anything on his   
behalf4 ,it  was an unfulfilled         
intention of ,de ,bunsen's1 later in    
life1 to write  a memoir of ,leopardi1  
for whom he always felt the highest     
esteem and  admiration4    ,count       
,monaldo's wish that his son should     
become an ecclesiastic was  never       
realised4 ,leopardi was of too honest a 
nature to profess what was  not in      
accordance with his convictions4 ,the   
secular employment that he  sought1 he  
could not obtain1 so perforce he seems  
to have turned his  mind towards        

literary work--the drudgery of letters  
as distinct from  the free1 untrammelled
 pursuit of literature4 ,he obtained the
 charge  of cataloguing the ,greek      
manuscripts of the ,barberine ,library1 
and his  spirits rose in anticipation of
 some discovery he hoped to make which  
might render him famous4 ,in due time we
 will astonish the world1 he  writes to 
his father4 ,he was indeed successful in
 finding a fragment  of ,libanius       
hitherto unpublished2 but the glory     
seems to have been  stolen from him1    
since the manuscript was ushered forth  
to the world by  alien hands4 ,poor     
,leopardi6 all his hopes seemed destined
 to be proved  illusive4 ,it was time   
for him to leave a place that could     
furnish him  with no other pleasure than
 that of tears4 ,i visited ,tasso's     
grave1  and wept there4 ,this is the    
first and only pleasure ,i have         
experienced  in ,rome 7,letter to       
,carlo1 ,february #ae1 #ahbc74 ,already 
he had begun  to steel himself to the   

shocks of fortune2 suffering and        
misfortune  he could bear2 mental agony 
and despair were too strong for him4 ,in
 a  long letter to his sister ,paulina1 
he tries to impart to her a little  of  
the philosophy of ,stoicism which he had
 taken to himself4 ,she was  distressed 
about the rupture of a matrimonial      
arrangement contracted  by the ,count   
between her and a certain ,roman        
gentleman of position and  fortune4     
,leopardi thus consoles her3            
,hope is a very wild passion1 because it
 necessarily carries      with it very  
great fear4444 ,i assure you1 ,i        
,paolina mia1'      that unless we can  
acquire a little indifference towards   
ourselves1 life is scarcely possible1   
much less can it be      happy4 ,you    
must resign yourself to fortune1 and not
 hope too      deeply4444 ,i recommend  
this philosophy to you1 because ,i      
think you resemble me in mind and       
disposition4 7#aith ,april      #ahbc47 
,four years later ,leopardi confesses   

the insufficiency of his own  remedies4 
,writing to ,dr4 ,puccinotti in #ahbg1  
he says3        ,i am weary of life1 and
 weary of the philosophy of             
indifference which is the only cure for 
misfortune and      ennui1 but which at 
length becomes an ennui itself4 ,i look 
and hope for nothing but death4         
7#afth ,august #ahbg47    ,in ,may      
#ahbc1 he left ,rome1 and returned to   
,recanati4    ,the succeeding ten years 
of ,leopardi's life were1 during his    
intervals  of health1 devoted to poetry 
and literature4 ,he had passed the      
,rubicon  of his hopes2 henceforth he   
studied to expound to the world the     
uselessness of its own anticipations1   
and its essential unhappiness4  ,his    
bodily infirmities increased with years4
 ,his frame1 naturally  weak1 suffered  
from the effects of early               
over-application2 his eyes  and nerves  
were a constant trouble to him4 ,to     
obtain what relief was  possible from   
change of air1 and to remove himself    

from ,recanati1  which he detested      
increasingly1 ,leopardi went to         
,bologna1 ,florence1  ,milan1 and ,pisa1
 wintering now at one place1 now at     
another4 ,from  family reasons1 his     
father was unable to supply him with    
sufficient  money to secure his         
independence4 ,consequently he was      
obliged to  turn to literature for a    
livelihood4 ,the publisher ,stella1 of  
,milan1  willingly engaged his services1
 and for several years ,leopardi was  in
 receipt of a small but regular payment 
for his literary labours4  ,he compiled 
,chrestomathies of ,italian prose and   
poetry1 and made  numerous fragmentary  
translations from the classics4 ,a      
commentary on  ,petrarch1 to which he   
devoted much time and care1 is1 in the  
words  of ,sainte-,beuve1 the best      
possible guide through such a charming  
labyrinth4 ,as he said of himself1      
mediocrity is not for me1 so in  all    
that he undertook the mark of his genius
 appeared4 ,at ,florence  ,leopardi was 

honoured by the representatives of      
,italian literature and  culture1 who   
there formed a brilliant coterie4       
,colletta was desirous  of his          
co-operation in the ,history of ,naples1
 with which he was  occupying the last  
years of his life4 ,the ,antologia and  
,nuove  ,ricoglitore reviews were open  
to contributions from his pen4          
,giordani1  ,niccolini1 ,capponi1 and   
,gioberti1 amongst others1 welcomed him 
with  open arms4 ,to these his ,tuscan  
friends he dedicated his ,canti in      
#ahcj1 with the following touching      
letter3--        ,,my ,,dear            
,,friends1--,accept the dedication of   
this book4      ,herein ,i have striven1
 as is often done in poetry1 to hallow  
my sufferings4 ,this is my farewell 7,i 
cannot but weep in      saying it7 to   
literature and studies4 ,once ,i hoped  
these      dear resources would have    
been the support of my old age3         
pleasures of childhood and youth might  
vanish1 ,i thought1      and their loss 

would be supportable if ,i were thus    
cherished      and strengthened4 ,but   
ere ,i was twenty years of age1 my      
physical infirmities deprived me of half
 my powers2 my life      was taken1 yet 
death was not bestowed on me4 ,eight    
years      later ,i became totally      
incapacitated2 this1 it seems1 will     
be my future state4 ,even to read these 
letters you know      that ,i make use  
of other eyes than mine4 ,dear friends1 
my      sufferings are incapable of     
increase2 already my misfortune      is 
too great for tears4 ,i have lost       
everything1 and am but a      trunk that
 feels and suffers4 444    ,it is       
scarcely wonderful that1 under such     
circumstances1 his philosophy  should   
fail him4 ,a code of ethics1 however    
admirable intrinsically1 has  but cold  
consolation to offer to one whose life  
is prolonged pain4  ,leopardi at one    
time allowed the idea of suicide to     
rest1 and almost  take root1 in his     
mind4 ,he describes the incident3 ,a    

great desire  comes into my mind to     
terminate once for all these wretched   
years of  mine1 and to make myself more 
completely motionless4 ,but he was of a 
nature noble and strong enough to resist
 such temptation4    ,he left ,recanati 
for the last time in #ahcj4 ,the next   
two years were  passed in ,florence1    
,rome1 and ,pisa4 ,whilst in ,rome1     
,leopardi received  substantial proof of
 his fame in being elected an           
,academician of the  ,crusca4 ,at length
 the doctors recommended him to try     
,naples1 from the  mild air and general 
salubrity of which place they           
anticipated much  improvement in his    
condition4 ,thither he went in company  
with a young  friend1 ,antonio ,ranieri1
 whose acquaintance he had made in      
,florence4  ,in the house of ,ranieri he
 stayed from #ahcc until his death in   
#ahcg1  tended by him and his sister    
,paulina 7his second ,paulina1 as he    
used  to call her7 with a devotedness   
and affection as rare as it was noble4  

,posterity will couple together the     
names of ,ranieri and ,leopardi as      
naturally as we associate together those
 of ,severn and ,keats4 ,all that  could
 be done for the unfortunate poet1      
,ranieri did4 ,his condition was  a     
singular one4 ,before he left ,florence 
for ,naples1 the doctor said of  him    
that his frame did not possess          
sufficient vitality to generate a       
mortal illness2 yet he was seldom1 if   
ever1 free from suffering4 ,he  died on 
the #adth ,june #ahcg1 as he and his    
friend were on the point of  setting out
 from ,naples to a little villa that    
,ranieri possessed on one  of the slopes
 of ,vesuvius4 ,on the night of the     
#aeth he was buried1 in  the church of  
,st4 ,vitale1 near the reputed grave of 
,virgil4 ,his tomb is  marked by a stone
 erected at the expense of ,ranieri1    
bearing the signs  of the cross1 and the
 owl of ,minerva1 together with an      
inscription from  the pen of ,giordani4 
,the few following lines from his own   

verse would  form a suitable epitaph for
 one whose life was spent in bodily and 
mental disquietude3--        ,o weary   
heart1 for ever shalt thou rest         
,henceforth4 ,perished is the great     
delusion      ,that ,i thought would    
ne'er have left me4 ,perished6          
,nought now is left of all those dear   
deceits2      ,desire is dead1 and not a
 hope remains4      ,rest then for ever4
 ,thou hast throbbed enough2            
,nothing here is worth such             
palpitations4      ,our life is         
valueless1 for it consists      ,of     
nought but ennui1 bitterness1 and pain4 
,this world of clay deserveth not a     
sigh4      ,now calm thyself2 conceive  
thy last despair1      ,and wait for    
death1 the only gift of ,fate4          
7,poem ,a ,se ,stesso47    ,these words 
might have been an echo of kyamuni's    
utterance beneath  the sacred fig-tree  
of ,bdhimanda1 when1 according to the   
legend1 he  was in process of           
transformation from man to ,buddha3 the 

resemblance is  at any rate a remarkable
 one4    ,in #ahdf1 the ,jesuits made an
 impudent attempt to convince the public
  that ,leopardi died repenting of his  
philosophical views1 and that he  had   
previously expressed a desire to enter  
the ,society of ,jesus4 ,a  long letter 
from a certain ,francesco ,scarpa to his
 ,superior1 giving  a number of         
pretended details of ,leopardi's        
history1 conversion1 and  death1        
appeared in a ,neapolitan publication1  
entitled ,science and  ,faith4 ,ranieri 
came forward to show the entire falsity 
of these  statements2 and to give a more
 authoritative denial to them1 he       
engaged  the willing help of ,vicenzo   
,gioberti4 ,the latter in his ,modern   
,jesuit  contested their truth in every 
respect4 ,he said3 ,the story put       
forward  in this letter is a tissue of  
lies and deliberate inventions2 it is   
sheer romance from beginning to end4 ,it
 is thought by some people  that        
,leopardi's father was concerned in this

 ,jesuit manifesto4 ,but1  although the 
,count was doubtless shocked beyond     
measure that his son  did not hold the  
same beliefs as himself1 it is scarcely 
credible that  he should concoct a      
series of such absurdities as were      
contained in  ,scarpa's letter4         
,leopardi anticipated that posterity1   
and even his contemporaries1 would      
endeavour to explain the pessimism of   
his philosophy by his personal          
misfortunes and sufferings4             
,accordingly1 in a letter to the        
philologist  ,sinner1 he entered a      
protest against such a supposition3     
,however great my sufferings may have   
been1 ,i do not seek      to diminish   
them by comforting myself with vain     
hopes1      and thoughts of a future and
 unknown happiness4 ,this same          
courage of my convictions has led me to 
a philosophy      of despair1 which ,i  
do not hesitate to accept4 ,it is       
the cowardice of men1 who would fain    
regard existence      as something very 

valuable1 that instigates them to       
consider my philosophical opinions as   
the result of my      sufferings1 and   
that makes them persist in charging to  
my      material circumstances that     
which is due to nothing but my          
understanding4 ,before ,i die1 ,i wish  
to make protest against      this       
imputation of weakness and trifling2 and
 ,i would beg of      my readers to burn
 my writings rather than attribute them 
to      my sufferings4        7#bdth    
,may #ahcb47    ,ranieri thus describes 
,leopardi's personal appearance3        
,he was of middle height1 inclined to   
stoop1 and fragile2      his complexion 
was pale2 his head was large1 and his   
brow      expansive2 his eyes were blue 
and languid2 his nose was well          
formed 7slightly aquiline71 and his     
other features were very      delicately
 chiselled2 his voice was soft and      
rather weak2      and he had an         
ineffable and almost celestial smile4   
,his friend here scarcely even suggests 

what others have perhaps unduly         
emphasised1 that is1 ,leopardi's        
deformity4 ,he was slightly humpbacked2 
doubtless the consequence of those      
studies which simultaneously ruined  him
 and made him famous4    ,it were an    
omission not to refer to the influence  
which love exerted  over ,leopardi's    
life4 ,so strong was this1 in the       
opinion of one of his  critics1 that he 
even ascribes his philosophy to an      
infelicissimo  amore4 ,another writer   
says of him that his ideal was a woman4 
,ranieri asserts that he died unmarried1
 after having twice felt the  passion of
 love as violently as it was ever       
realised by any man4 ,his  poems also   
testify how omnipotent at one time was  
this bitter-sweet  sensation4        ,i 
recall to mind the day when love first  
assaulted me2 when      ,i said1 ,alas6 
if this be love1 how it pains me6       
7,the ,first ,love47    ,again3         
,it was morning1 the time when a light  
and sweeter sleep      presses our      

rested lids4 ,the sun's first grey light
 began to      gleam across the balcony1
 through the closed windows into      my
 still darkened chamber4 ,then it was   
that ,i saw close by1      regarding me 
with fixed eyes1 the phantom form of her
 who      first taught me to love1 and  
left me ,weeping4 7,the ,dream47    ,his
 poem to ,aspasia is a frank confession 
of love1 and the humiliation  he        
suffered in its rejection4 ,it is a     
noble1 yet a terrible poem4  ,opening   
with a description of the scene that met
 his eye as he entered  the room where  
his charmer sat1 robed in the hue of the
 melancholy  violet1 and surrounded by a
 wondrous luxury1 pressing tender and   
burning kisses on the round lips of her 
children1 and displaying her  snowy     
neck1 he saw as it were a new heaven1   
and a new earth1 and the  lustre of a   
celestial light4        ,like a divine  
ray1 ,o woman1 thy beauty dazzled my    
thought4      ,beauty is like such music
 as seems to open out to us an          

unknown ,elysium4 ,he who loves is      
filled with the ecstasy      of the     
phantom love conceived by his           
imagination4 ,in the      woman of his  
love he seeks to discover the beauties  
of      his inspired vision2 in his     
words and actions he tries      to      
recognise the personality of his dreams4
 ,thus when he      strains her to his  
bosom1 it is not the woman1 but the     
phantom of his dream that he embraces4  
,then comes the awakening4 ,he          
vituperates the reality for not         
attaining  to the standard of his ideal4
        ,rarely the woman's nature is   
comparable with that of the      dream  
image4 ,no thought like ours can dwell  
beneath those      narrow brows4 ,vain  
is the hope that man forges in the fire 
of those sparkling eyes4 ,he errs in    
seeking profound and      lofty thoughts
 in one who is by nature inferior to man
 in      all things4 ,as her members are
 frailer and softer1 so is her      mind
 more feeble and confined4    ,he       

betrays his position1 and gives the key 
to his unjust censure of  woman's       
powers4        ,now1 boast thyself1 for 
thou canst do so4 ,tell how thou art    
the only one of thy sex to whom ,i have 
bent my proud head1      and offered my 
invincible heart4 ,tell how thou hast   
seen me      with beseeching brows1     
timid and trembling before thee 7,i     
burn with indignation and shame in the  
avowal71 watching      thy every sign   
and gesture1 beside myself in adoration 
of      thee1 and changing expression   
and colour at the slightest of      thy 
looks4 ,the charm is broken2 my yoke is 
on the ground1      sundered at a single
 blow4 7,aspasia47    ,who were the real
 objects of ,leopardi's affection1 is   
not at all clear4  ,certain village     
girls of ,recanati1 immortalised in his 
verse as ,nerina  and ,silvia1 were the 
inspirers of his first love2 but his    
brother ,carlo  bears witness to the    
superficial nature of his affection in  
their  cases4 ,they merely served as the

 awakeners of the sensation2 his own    
mind and imagination magnified it into a
 passion4 ,true it is that his  nature  
was one that yearned and craved for love
 in no ordinary degree4  ,when at ,rome1
 isolated from his family1 he wrote to  
,carlo3 ,love me1  for ,god's sake4 ,i  
need love1 love1 love1 fire1 enthusiasm1
 life4 ,he  addressed similar demands to
 ,giordani and others with whom he was  
on the most intimate terms4 ,indeed we  
are tempted to conjectures as  to what  
might have been the fruit of ,leopardi's
 life had he found a  helpmate and a    
consoler in his troubles4    ,a brief   
consideration of the general nature of  
,leopardi's poetry and  prose may not be
 out of place in this short summary4    
,his poems are masterpieces of          
conception and execution4 ,their matter 
may be open to criticism2 but their     
manner is beyond praise4 ,his odes  are 
of the nobler kind4 ,full of fire and   
vigour1 they reach the sublime  where he
 stimulates his fellow-countrymen to    

action1 and urges them  to aspire to a  
freedom1 happily now obtained4 ,his     
elegies breathe out  an inspired sorrow4
 ,they are the pro-duct of a mind filled
 with the  sense of the misery that     
abounds on earth1 and unable1 though    
desirous1  to discern a single ray of   
light in the gloom of existence4 ,his   
lyrical pieces are the most beautiful   
and emotional of his poems4 ,the        
following1 entitled ,the ,setting of the
 ,moon1 though pervaded with the  spirit
 of sadness that is so predominant a    
characteristic of ,leopardi's  verse1   
contains some charming imagery3--       
,as in the lonely night1 over the       
silvered fields and the      waters     
where the zephyrs play1 where the       
far-off shades take      a thousand     
vague appearances and deceitful forms1  
amid the      tranquil waves1 the       
foliage and the hedges1 the hill-slopes 
and the villages1 the moon arrived at   
heaven's boundary      descends behind  
the ,alps and ,apennines into the       

infinite      bosom of the ,tyrrhenian  
,sea2 whilst the world grows pale1      
and the shadows disappear1 and a mantle 
of darkness shrouds      the valley and 
the hills2 night alone remains1 and the 
carter singing on his way salutes with a
 sad melody the last      reflection of 
that fleeing light which hitherto had   
led his      steps3 ,so vanishes our    
youth1 and leaves us solitary with      
life4 ,so flee away the shadows which   
veiled illusive joys2      and so die   
too the distant hopes on which our      
mortal nature      rested4 ,life is left
 desolate and dark1 and the traveller1  
trying to pierce the gloom1 looks here  
and there1 but seeks      in vain to    
know the way1 or what the journey yet   
before him2      he sees that all on    
earth is strange1 and he a stranger     
dwelling there4444 ,you little hills and
 strands1 when falls      the light     
which silvers in the west the veil of   
night1 shall      not for long be       
orphaned4 ,on the other side of heaven  

the      first grey light of dawn shall 
soon be followed by the sun1      whose 
fiery rays shall flood you and the      
ethereal fields      with a luminous    
stream4 ,but mortal life1 when cherished
      youth has gone1 has no new dawn1  
nor ever gains new light2      widowed  
to the end it stays1 and on life's other
 shore1 made      dark by night1 the    
gods have set the tomb's dark seal4     
,in his interpretation of nature he is  
literal1 but withal truly poetic3  he   
worships her in the concrete1 but       
vituperates her in the abstract1  as    
representative to him of omnipresent    
,deity1 creative1 but also  destructive4
 ,the two or three poems that may be    
termed satirical1  are at the same time 
half elegiac4 ,in them he ridicules and 
censures  the folly of his              
contemporaries1 and mourns over the     
mystery of  things4 ,to these1 however1 
there is one exception1 the longest of  
all  his poems4 ,this is known as the   
,continuation of the ,battle of the     

,frogs and ,mice1 ,it consists of eight 
cantos1 comprising about three  thousand
 lines1 and was first published         
posthumously4 ,the abruptness  of its   
ending gives the idea1 erroneous or not1
 of incompleteness4  ,leopardi had1     
several years before1 translated and    
versified ,homer's  ,batrachomyomachia1 
and this satire takes up the story where
 ,homer  ends4 ,it is exclusively a     
ridicule of the times1 with especial    
reference to his own country and her    
national enemy1 ,austria4 ,in style  and
 treatment it has been compared with    
,byron's ,don ,juan1 from which1        
however1 it totally differs in its      
intrinsic character4 ,it abounds in     
beauties of description1 sentiment1 and 
expression1 and well deserves  to be    
considered his chef d'oeuvre4 ,leopardi 
thus describes his  method of poetic    
composition3--        ,i compose only   
when under an inspiration1 yielding to  
which1 in two minutes1 ,i have designed 
and organised      the poem4 ,this done1

 ,i wait for a recurrence of such       
inspiration1 which seldom happens until 
several weeks have      elapsed4 ,then  
,i set to work at composition1 bub so   
slowly      that ,i cannot complete a   
poem1 however short1 in less than       
two or three weeks4 ,such is my method2 
without inspiration      it were easier 
to draw water from a stone than a single
      verse from my brain4              
,leopardi's reputation was firmly       
established by the appearance of his    
,operette morali1 as his prose writings 
were termed4 ,monti classed  them as the
 best ,italian prose compositions of the
 century4 ,gioberti  compared them to   
the writing of ,machiavelli4 ,giordani1 
with his usual  tendency to             
extravagance1 gives his friend the      
following pompous  panegyric3--,his     
style possesses the conciseness of      
,speroni1 the  grandiloquence of ,tasso1
 the smoothness of ,paruta1 the purity  
of ,gelli1  the wit of ,firenzuola1 the 
solidity and magnificence of            

,pallavicino1  the imagination of       
,plato1 and the elegance of ,cicero4    
,leopardi has  been aptly termed an     
aristocrat in his writing4 ,too much of 
a reasoner  to be very popular with the 
masses1 who do not care for the exertion
 of  sustained thought1 his logic is    
strikingly clear to the intelligent4    
,his periods are occasionally as long as
 those of ,machiavelli or               
,guicciardini1 but their continuity and 
signification are never obscure4        
,ranieri bears witness to the fact that 
his prose was the fruit of very  great  
labour4    ,the subject and tendency of 
,leopardi's writings will be evident to 
the reader of the following dialogues4  
,framed on the model of ,lucian1  they  
will compare favourably with the        
writings of the ,greek satirist  in     
subtlety and wit1 in spite of their     
sombre tone4 ,they cannot be  said to   
possess much originality1 save in       
treatment4 ,the subjects  discussed1 and
 even the arguments introduced1 are     

mostly old4 ,every  acute moraliser     
since the world began has1 in more or   
less degree  commensurate with his      
ability1 debated within himself the     
problems  here considered4 ,facts1      
beliefs1 opinions1 theories1 may be     
marshalled  to produce an infinite      
number of diverse harmonies2 but no one 
such  combination formed by the mind of 
man may be put forward as the true  and 
ultimate explanation of the mystery of  
life4 ,leibnitz1 with his  harmony of   
universal good1 is as fallible as       
,leopardi or ,schopenhauer  with their  
harmonies of evil4 ,in either case the  
real is sacrificed  to the ideal1       
whether of good or evil4 ,either from   
temperament or  circumstances1 these    
philosophers were predisposed to give   
judgment on  life1 favourably or        
adversely1 without duly considering the 
attributes  of existence4 ,as ,m4       
,dapples1 in his ,french version of     
,leopardi1 has  remarked1 he early      
withdrew from actual life1 i4e41 life   

with all  those manifold sensations     
which he himself defines to be the only 
constituents of pleasure in existence4  
,his body proved little else than  the  
sensation of suffering4 ,all his        
vitality was concentrated in his  mind2 
so that he was scarcely a competent and 
impartial judge of the  ordinary        
pleasures and ills of life4 ,he could   
not be otherwise than  prejudiced by his
 own experiences1 or rather lack of     
experiences4 ,yet1  though ,leopardi was
 physically incapable of many of life's 
pleasures1  he none the less            
passionately yearned for them4 ,strength
 and desire  struggled within him1 and  
the former only too frequently proved   
weaker  than the latter4 ,thus he was   
innately adapted for pessimism4    ,we  
consider ,leopardi to have been a man of
 the grandest intellectual  powers1     
capable originally of almost anything to
 which the human mind  could attain2 but
 that his reason1 later in life1 became 
somewhat  perverted by his sufferings4  

,were human life as absolutely miserable
  a thing as he represents it to be1 it 
would be insupportable4 ,that  he should
 so regard it does not seem remarkable  
when we consider his  circumstances2 he 
was poor1 seldom free from pain1 and    
unsupported by  a creed4 ,for the       
sufferings of his life1 he could see no 
shadow of  atonement or compensation3 a 
future state was incomprehensible to    
him4  ,he bestows much gratuitous pity  
on the human race1 which we1 though     
revering his genius1 may return to him  
as more deserving of it than  ourselves4
 ,his heart was naturally full of the   
most lively affection2  but he could    
never sufficiently satisfy the yearnings
 of his nature4  ,like ,ottonieri1 whose
 portrait is his own to a great extent1 
his  instincts were noble2 like him also
 he died without effecting much in      
proportion to his powers4    ,the       
conclusions of ,leopardi's philosophy   
may be thus summed up4 ,the  universe is
 an enigma1 totally insoluble4 ,the     

sufferings of mankind  exceed all good  
that men experience1 estimating the     
latter in  compensation for the former4 
,progress1 or1 as we call it1           
civilisation1  instead of lightening    
man's sufferings1 increases them2 since 
it  enlarges his capacity for suffering1
 without proportionately augmenting  his
 means of enjoyment4    ,how far are    
these conclusions refutable8 ,it may be 
regarded as  indubitable that the first 
two cannot be refuted without the aid   
of revelation4 ,science is incompetent  
to explain the why and the  wherefore of
 the universe2 it is yet groping to     
discover the how4  ,still less can any  
satisfactory explanation be given of the
 purpose  for which suffering exists1   
unless we rely on revelation4 ,religion1
  which modern philosophers somewhat    
contemptuously designate as popular     
metaphysics1 can alone afford an        
explanation of these problems4  kyamuni1
 nearly #bejj years ago1 asked1 ,what is
 the cause of all the  miseries and     

sufferings with which man is afflicted8 
,he himself gave  what he considered to 
be the correct answer3 ,existence2 and  
then he  traced existence to the        
passions and desires innate in man4     
,these last  were to be conquered in the
 condition of insensibility to all      
material  things called ,nirvana1 ,truly
 his remedy was a radical one1 and had  
he succeeded in procuring universal     
acceptance for his doctrines1 the  human
 race would have become extinct a few   
generations later than his  own time4   
,but ,nirvana is unnatural if it be     
nothing else2 unnatural  in itself and  
in the steps that lead up to it4 ,and   
although it is  due to ,schopenhauer1   
and his more or less heterodox          
disciples1 that  this ,buddhistic dogma 
is regarded theoretically by some people
 with a  certain amount of favour1 we   
think the instincts of life are strong  
enough within them all to resist any    
decided inclination on their part  to   
carry it into effect4    ,as for the    

third conclusion1 it must be admitted   
that man's  susceptibilities of         
suffering are enlarged with increasing  
culture4  ,leopardi has shown us that   
the more vividly we realise the evils   
that  surround and affect us1 so much   
the more keenly do they arouse in us    
sensations of pain4 ,knowledge of them  
makes us suffer from them4 ,the  bliss  
of ignorance is rudely dispelled by the 
cold hand of science4 ,but  must this   
necessarily continue8 ,may not the same 
progress which exposes  the wound find  
the salve to heal it8 ,we trust and     
think so1 in spite  of all assertions to
 the contrary4 ,there is nothing in the 
near future  of humanity that need alarm
 us3 men will not work less because they
  think more2 nor is there any          
sufficient reason to show that          
increasing  knowledge must represent    
increasing sorrow4 ,as ,johnson has     
said3  ,the cure for the greatest part  
of human miseries is not radical but    
palliative4 ,for the material means of  

palliation we look to science4  ,we hope
 and think that there is good to be     
gained from these writings  of          
,leopardi1 in spite of the tone of      
despair that rings throughout  them4    
,his theory of the infelicit of things1 
cheerless though it  be1 often suggests 
ideas1 sublime in themselves and noble  
in their  effect2 and the very essence  
of his philosophy resolves itself into a
  recommendation to act1 rather than by 
contemplation to lose the power  of     
action2 for1 as he says1 ,a life must be
 active and vigorous1 else  it is not   
true life1 and death is preferable to   
it4    ,a brief reference to the most   
recent publications on ,leopardi may be 
interesting as tending to throw light on
 his domestic relationships1  and as    
giving us an idea of his own habits in  
private life4 ,antonio  ,ranieri 7now in
 his seventy-sixth year7 in a book#a    
published at  ,naples in #ahhj gives    
many interesting details of the poet's  
life4  ,he first met him at ,florence1  

and was touched with compassion for  his
 unfortunate state4 ,ill and helpless1  
he was incapable of doing  anything but 
weep in despair at the thought of being 
obliged to return  to his native place4 
,recanati and death are to me one and   
the same  thing1 he exclaimed through   
his tears4 ,ranieri in a generous moment
  replied3 ,leopardi1 you shall not     
return to ,recanati4 ,the little that   
,i possess is enough for two4 ,as a     
benefit to me1 not to yourself1 we  will
 henceforth live together4 ,this was the
 beginning of what ,ranieri  calls his  
vita nuova4 ,he conducted ,leopardi from
 ,florence to ,rome2  thence back to    
,florence2 and finally from ,florence to
 ,naples4 ,the  doctors everywhere      
shrugged their shoulders at his case1   
and suggested1  as delicately as        
possible1 the mortal nature of his      
maladies4 ,at ,naples  ,ranieri and his 
sister ,paulina did all they could for  
,leopardi1 and  from #ahcc to his death 
in #ahcg supplied all his wants4 ,he    

could seldom  see to read or write4 ,we 
used to read to him constantly and      
regularly1  and were fortunately        
conversant with the languages he knew1  
says  ,ranieri4 ,occasionally he was    
able to go to the theatre1 and enjoyed  
it greatly4 ,in his habits he seems to  
have tried his friend's temper  and     
patience considerably4 ,he was wont to  
turn night into day1 and  day into      
night4 ,ranieri and his sister often did
 the same in order to  read1 work1 and  
talk with him4 ,he breakfasted between  
three and five  o'clock in the          
afternoon1 and dined about midnight4    
,like ,schopenhauer1  he delighted in   
after-dinner conversation1 which he     
termed one of  the greatest pleasures of
 life4 ,he was very obstinate in        
personal  matters1 disobeying the       
doctors in his diet and everything else4
 ,his  fondness for his old clothes was 
remarkable2 he loved them for their     
associations4 ,ranieri mentions a       
certain very ancient overcoat which  for

 seven years had tormented him1 and     
which he used to entreat  ,leopardi to  
lay aside1 but which he clung to with an
 incredible  affection1 preferring it to
 a new one that he allowed the moths to 
destroy4 ,the mere names of wind1 cold1 
and snow were enough to pale  him4 ,he  
could not bear fire1 and formerly used  
to pass the winters  three parts        
submerged in a sack of feathers1 reading
 and writing thus  the greater part of  
the day4 ,he was very terrified when the
 cholera  appeared at ,naples1 to avoid 
which he and ,ranieri went to a country 
house of the latter's on one of the     
slopes of ,vesuvius4 ,here ,leopardi    
wrote his poem ,la ,ginestra1 inspired  
by the desolate scenes at the  foot of  
the mountain4 ,he died suddenly at      
,naples1 as he and ,ranieri's  household
 were about to set off again for the    
country4 ,the ,neapolitan  ,journal ,il 
,progresso1 in an article on ,lis death1
 remarked of him  that such brilliancy  
is not allowed to illumine the earth for

 long4    ,notes ,biographiques sur     
,leopardi et sa ,famille 7,paris1       
#ahha74 ,this  is a book of considerable
 value4 ,written by the widow of ,count 
,carlo  ,leopardi1 ,giacomo's younger   
brother1 and his other self1 it is  most
 valuable as delineating the characters 
of ,leopardi's father and  mother4 ,a   
softer light is shed on the character of
 ,leopardi's mother4  ,we learn that she
 was not passionless1 hard1 and         
unsympathetic1 as we  had previously    
supposed her to be4 ,on the contrary1   
she was a good  woman1 of deep          
affection1 who made it the aim of her   
married life  to work for the welfare of
 the family of which she became a       
member4  ,weighted with debt almost to  
the point of exhaustion1 the estates of 
,casa ,leopardi needed a skilful and    
vigorous administrator1 if they were  to
 continue in the hands of their old     
owners4 ,count ,monaldo ,leopardi  was  
not such an administrator4 ,he was a man
 devoted tout entier   science1 and     

occupying himself more with bibliology  
and archology  than with the finances of
 his estate4 ,the ,jews of ,perousa1    
,milan1 and  the ,march towns would1    
sooner or later1 have tightened their   
hold on  the ,leopardi patrimony to such
 a degree that the ancient family could 
only have continued to exist as         
proprietors on sufferance4 ,but1 in the 
words of the authoress of this book1    
,providence watched over the house  en  
lui envoyant dans la jeune marquise     
,adelaide ,antici l'ange qui  devait la 
sauver4 ,the young bride accepted her   
position with an entire  knowledge of   
the responsibilities that would         
accompany it4 ,she took  the reins of   
the neglected administration1 and set   
herself the task  of restoring the      
fortunes of ,casa ,leopardi4 ,by her    
exertions the ,pope  was made acquainted
 with their difficulties1 and by his    
intervention  an arrangement was made   
between the creditors and the ,leopardi 
family1  whereby the former were        

restrained from demanding the amount of 
their  debt for forty years1 receiving  
thereon in the mean time interest at  #h
 per cent1 per annum4 ,this was the     
life-work of ,countess ,leopardi4       
,during forty years she administered the
 finances of ,casa ,leopardi1 and  by   
the end of that time succeeded in       
freeing the family from the burden  with
 which it had been long encumbered4 ,she
 died in #aheg1 ten years  after her    
husband1 and twenty years later than her
 eldest son1 ,giacomo4    ,,st4         
,,mark',s ,,place1 ,,wolverhampton1     
,december1 #ahha4      ,footnote #a3    
,sette anni di ,sodalizio con ,giacomo  
,leopardi4      ,the following works1   
amongst others1 have been made use of in
 the  preparation of this volume3--     
,opere ,leopardi4 #f vols4 ,firenze1    
#ahde4        ,opere inedite ,leopardi4 
,cugnoni3 ,halle1 #ahgh4        ,studio 
di ,leopardi4 ,a4 ,baragiola3           
,strasburg1 #ahgf4        ,traduction   
complte de ,leopardi4 ,f4 ,a4 ,aulard3  

,paris1 #ahhj4        ,opuscules et     
,penses de ,leopardi4 ,a4 ,dapples3     
,paris1 #ahhj4        ,g4 ,leopardi3 sa 
,vie et ses ,oeuvres4 ,bouch ,leclercq3 
,paris1      #ahgd4        ,le          
,pessimisme4 ,e4 ,caro3 ,paris1 #ahgh4  
,pessimism4 ,jas4 ,sully3 ,london1      
#ahgg4        ,la ,philosophie de       
,schopenhauer4 ,th4 ,ribot3 ,paris1     
#ahgd4        ,il ,buddha1 ,confucio1 e 
,lao-,tse4 ,c4 ,puini3 ,firenze1 #ahgh4 
,artide in ,quarterly ,review on        
,leopardi4 #ahej4        ,artide in     
,fraser's ,magazine1 ,leopardi and his  
,father3 a      ,study1 by ,l4 ,villari4
 ,november #ahha4          ,,history    
,,of ,,the ,,human ,,race4      ,it is  
said that the first inhabitants of the  
earth were everywhere  created          
simultaneously4 ,whilst children they   
were fed by bees1 goats1  and doves1 as 
the poets say the infant ,jove was      
nourished4 ,the earth  was much smaller 
than it is at present1 and devoid of    
mountains and  hills4 ,the sky was      

starless4 ,there was no sea2 and the    
world as a whole  was far less varied   
and beautiful than it now is4    ,yet   
men were never weary of looking at the  
sky and the earth1 which  excited within
 them feelings of wonder and admiration4
 ,they considered  them both to be of   
infinite extent1 majesty1 and           
magnificence4 ,their  souls were filled 
with joyous hopes1 and every sensation  
of life gave  them inexpressible        
pleasure4 ,their contentment daily      
increased1 so that  they at length      
thought themselves supremely happy4 ,in 
this peaceful  state of mind they passed
 their infancy and youth4    ,arrived at
 a mature age1 their feelings began to  
experience some  alteration4 ,as their  
early hopes1 to which they had          
perseveringly  adhered1 failed of       
realisation1 they no longer put faith in
 them4 ,but1  on the other hand1 present
 happiness isolated from anticipation of
  the future1 did not suffice them2     
especially seeing that1 either from     

habit or because the charm of a first   
acquaintanceship had worn off1  nature  
and all the incidents of life gave them 
much less pleasure than  at first4 ,they
 travelled over the earth1 and visited  
the most distant  lands4 ,this they     
could easily do1 because there were     
neither seas1  mountains1 nor obstacles 
of any kind to oppose them4 ,after a few
 years1  most men had proved the finite 
nature of the earth1 the boundaries of  
which were by no means so remote as to  
be unattainable4 ,they found  too1 that 
all countries of the world1 and all men1
 with but slight  differences1 were     
alike4 ,these discoveries ,i so greatly 
increased their  discontent1 that a     
weariness of life became prevalent among
 men even  before they had passed the   
threshold of manhood4 ,and as men grew  
older1  this feeling gradually          
transformed itself into a hatred of     
existence1  so that at length1 seized by
 despair1 they in one way or another    
hesitated not to abandon the light and  

life once so beloved4    ,it seemed to  
the gods a shocking thing that living   
creatures should  prefer death to life1 
and should destroy themselves for no    
other  reason than that they were weary 
of existence4 ,it also amazed them      
beyond measure to find their gifts held 
in such contempt1 and so  unequivocally 
rejected by men4 ,they thought the world
 had been endowed  with sufficient      
beauty1 goodness1 and harmony to make it
 not merely  a bearable1 but even a     
highly enjoyable place of residence for 
every  living thing1 and especially for 
man1 whom they had fabricated with      
peculiar care1 and a marvellous         
perfection4 ,at the same time1 touched  
with a deep feeling of compassion for   
the distress men exhibited1 they  began 
to fear lest the renewal and increase of
 these deplorable actions  might not    
soon result in the extinction of the    
human race1 contrary  to destiny1 and   
they would thus lose the most perfect   
work of their  creation1 and be deprived

 of the honours they received from men4 
,jove determined therefore to improve   
the condition of men1 since it  seemed  
necessary1 and to increase the means    
whereby they might obtain  happiness4   
,they complained of the deceitfulness of
 things2 which were  neither as great1  
beautiful1 perfect1 nor varied as they  
at first  imagined them to be2 but were1
 on the contrary1 small1 imperfect1 and 
monotonous4 ,they derived no pleasure   
from their youth2 still less  were they 
satisfied with the times of maturity1   
and old age4 ,their  infancy alone gave 
them pleasure1 and yearning for the     
sweetness of  their early days1 they    
besought ,jove to make their condition  
one of  perpetual childhood4 ,but the   
god could not satisfy them in this      
matter2  for it was contrary to the laws
 of nature1 and the divine decrees and  
intentions4 ,neither could he           
communicate his own infinity to mortal  
creatures1 nor the world itself1 any    
more than he could bestow infinite      

happiness and perfection on men and     
things4 ,it seemed best to him to       
extend the limits of creation1 at the   
same time increasing the world's        
diversity and beauty4 ,in fulfilment of 
this intention1 he enlarged  the earth  
on all sides2 and made the sea to flow  
as a separation  between inhabited      
places1 so that it might vary the aspect
 of things1  and by severing their      
roads1 prevent men from easily          
discovering the  confines of the world4 
,he also designed the sea to serve as a 
vivid  representation of the infinity   
which they desired4 ,then it was that   
the  waters covered the island          
,atlantis1 as well as many other vast   
tracts  of country2 but the remembrance 
of this island alone has survived the   
multitude of centuries that have passed 
since that time4    ,jove formed valleys
 by lowering certain places2 and by     
exalting others  he created hills and   
mountains4 ,he bespread the night with  
stars2  purified the atmosphere2        

increased the brilliancy and light of   
day2  intensified the colours of the sky
 and the country1 and gave them  more   
variety4 ,he also mixed the generations 
of men1 so that the aged  of one        
generation were contemporaneous with the
 children of another4  ,above all1 ,jove
 determined to multiply resemblances of 
that infinity  for which men so eagerly 
craved4 ,he could not really satisfy    
them1 but  wishing to soothe and appease
 their imagination1 which he knew had   
been the chief source of their happiness
 in childhood1 he employed many         
expedients like that of the sea4 ,he    
created the echo1 and hid it in  valleys
 and caverns1 and gave to the forests a 
dull deep whispering1  conjoined with a 
mysterious undulation of their          
tree-tops4 ,he created  also the        
gorgeous land of dreams1 and gave men   
power to visit it in  their sleep4      
,there they could experience such       
perfect happiness as  could not in      
reality be accorded to them4 ,this      

served as a substitute  for the vague   
unrealisable conception of felicity     
formed by men within  themselves1 and to
 which ,jove himself could not have     
given any real  expression1 had he      
desired to do so4    ,by these means the
 god infused new strength and vigour    
into the minds  of men1 and endeared    
life to them again1 so that they were   
full of  admiration for the beauty and  
immensity of nature4 ,this happy state  
lasted longer than the previous one4    
,its duration was chiefly due to  the   
diversity of ages among men1 whereby    
those who were chilled and  wearied with
 their experience of the world1 were    
comforted by the  society of others full
 of the ardency and hopefulness of      
youth4    ,but in process of time this  
novelty wore off1 and men again became  
discontented and wearied with life4 ,so 
despondent did they become1  that then  
is said to have originated the custom   
attributed by history  to certain       
ancient nations2 the birth of a child   

was celebrated with  tears1 and the     
death of a parent was the occasion of   
rejoicing for his  deliverance4#a ,at   
length wickedness became universal4     
,this was either  because men thought   
that ,jove disregarded them1 or because 
it is the  nature of misfortune to      
debase even the noblest minds4    ,it is
 a popular error to imagine that man's  
misfortunes are the result  of his      
impiety and iniquity4 ,on the contrary1 
his wickedness is the  consequence of   
his misfortunes4    ,the gods avenged   
themselves for their injuries1 and      
punished mortals  for their renewed     
perverseness1 by the deluge of          
,deucalion4 ,there were  only two       
survivors of this shipwreck of the human
 race1 ,deucalion  and ,pyrrha4 ,these  
unhappy ones were filled with the sense 
of their  wretchedness1 and far from    
regretting the loss of all their        
fellows1  themselves loudly invoked     
death from the summit of a rock4 ,but   
,jove  commanded them to remedy the     

depopulation of the earth1 and seeing   
that  they had not the heart to beget a 
new generation1 directed them to take   
stones from the hill-sides1 and cast    
them over their shoulders4 ,from  these 
stones men were created1 and the earth  
was again peopled4    ,the history of   
the past had enlightened ,jove as to the
 nature of men1  and had shown him that 
it is not sufficient for them1 as for   
other  animals1 merely to live in a     
state of freedom from sorrow and        
physical  discomfort4 ,he knew that     
whatever their condition of life1 they  
would  seek the impossible1 and if      
unpossessed of genuine evils1 would     
torment themselves with imaginary ones4 
,the god resolved therefore  to employ  
new means for the preservation of the   
miserable race4 ,for  this purpose he   
used two especial artifices4 ,in the    
first place1 he  strewed life with      
veritable evils2 and secondly1          
instituted a thousand  kinds of business
 and labour1 to distract men as much as 

possible from  self-contemplation1 and  
their desires for an unknown and        
imaginary  happiness4    ,he began by   
sending a multitude of diseases1 and an 
infinite number  of other calamities    
among them1 with the intention of       
varying the  conditions of life so as to
 obviate the feeling of satiety which   
had  resulted before1 and to induce men 
to esteem the good things they          
possessed so much the more by contrast  
with these new evils4 ,the  god hoped   
that men would be better able to bear   
the absence of the  happiness they      
longed for1 when occupied and under the 
discipline of  suffering4 ,he also      
determined by means of these physical   
infirmities  and exertions1 to reduce   
the vigour of men's minds1 to humble    
their  pride1 to make them bow the head 
to necessity1 and be more contented     
with their lot4 ,he knew that disease   
and misfortune would operate as a       
preventive to the committal of those    
acts of suicide which had formerly  been

 rife2 for they would not only make men 
cowardly and weak1 but  would help to   
attach them to life by the hope of an   
existence free from  such sufferings4   
,for it is a characteristic of the      
unfortunate that  they imagine happiness
 will wait on them as soon as the       
immediate cause  of their present       
misfortune is removed4    ,jove then    
created the winds and the rain-clouds1  
prepared the thunder  and lightning1    
gave the trident to ,neptune1 launched  
comets1 and  arranged eclipses4 ,by     
means of these and other terrible signs1
 he  resolved to frighten mortals from  
time to time1 knowing that fear  and    
actual danger would temporarily         
reconcile to life1 not only the         
unhappy1 but even those who most        
detested and were most disposed to put  
an end to their existence4    ,as a cure
 for the idleness of the past1 ,jove    
gave to men a taste and  desire for new 
foods and drinks1 unprocurable1 however1
 without the  greatest exertions4       

,previous to the deluge men had lived on
 water1  herbs1 and such fruits as were 
yielded by the earth and the trees1     
just as certain people of ,california   
and other places live even in the       
present day4 ,he assigned different     
climates to different countries1  and   
appointed the seasons of the year4      
,hitherto there had been no  diversity  
of temperature in any place1 but the    
atmosphere was uniformly  so equable and
 mild that men were ignorant of the use 
of clothing4 ,now1  however1 they were  
obliged to exert themselves             
industriously to remedy  the inclemency 
and changeability of the weather4       
,jove gave ,mercury command to lay the  
foundations of the first cities1  and to
 divide men into different races1       
nations1 and languages1  separated by   
feelings of rivalry and discord4 ,he was
 also commissioned  to teach them music 
and those other arts1 which1 owing to   
their nature  and origin1 are still     
called divine4 ,jove himself distributed

 laws and  constitutions to the new     
nations4 ,finally1 as a supreme gift1 he
 sent  among men certain sublime and    
superhuman ,phantoms1 to whom he        
committed  very great influence and     
control over the people of the earth4   
,they  were called ,justice1 ,virtue1   
,glory1 ,patriotism1 c4 ,among these    
,phantoms was one named ,love1 which    
then first entered the world4 ,for      
previous to the introduction of clothes1
 the sexes were drawn towards  one      
another by merely a brute instinct1 far 
different from love4 ,the  feeling was  
comparable to that which we experience  
towards articles of  food and such      
things1 that we desire1 but do not love4
    ,by these divine decrees the        
condition of man was infinitely         
ameliorated1 and rendered easier and    
pleasanter than before2 in spite  of the
 fatigues1 sufferings1 and terrors which
 were now inseparable  from humanity4   
,and this result was chiefly due to the 
wonderful  chimeras1 whom some men      

regarded as genii1 others as gods1 and  
whom  they followed with an intense     
veneration and enthusiasm for a very    
long  time4 ,to such a pitch was their  
ardour excited by the poets and artists 
of the times1 that numbers of men did   
not hesitate to sacrifice their  lives  
to one or other of these ,phantoms4 ,far
 from displeasing ,jove1  this fact     
gratified him exceedingly1 for he judged
 that if men esteemed  their life a gift
 worthy of sacrifice to these fine and  
glorious  illusions1 they would be less 
likely to repudiate it as before4 ,this 
happy state of affairs was of longer    
duration than the preceding  ages4 ,and 
even when after the lapse of many       
centuries1 a tendency to  decline became
 apparent1 existence1 thanks to these   
bright illusions1  was still easy and   
bearable enough1 up to a time not very  
far distant  from the present4 ,this    
decline was chiefly due to the facility 
with  which men were able to satisfy    
their wants and desires2 the growing    

inequality between men in their social  
and other conditions1 as  they receded  
farther and farther from the republican 
models founded  by ,jove2 the           
reappearance of vanity and idleness as a
 consequence of  this retrocession2 the 
diminishing interest with which the     
variety of  life's incidents inspired   
them2 and many other well-known and     
important  causes4 ,again men were      
filled with the old feeling of disgust  
for their  existence1 and again their   
minds clamoured for an unknown          
happiness1  inconsistent with the order 
of nature4    ,but the total revolution 
of the fortunes of men1 and the end of  
that  epoch which we nowadays designate 
as the old world1 was due to one        
especial influence4 ,it was this4 ,among
 the ,phantoms so appreciated  by the   
ancients was a certain one called       
,wisdom4 ,this ,phantom had  duly       
contributed to the prosperity of the    
times1 and like the others  received    
high honour from men1 a number of whom  

consecrated themselves  to her service4 
,she had frequently promised her        
disciples to show  them her mistress1   
the ,truth1 a superior spirit who       
associated with  the gods in heaven1    
whence she had never yet descended4 ,the
 ,phantom  assured them that she would  
bring ,truth among men1 and that this   
spirit  would exercise so marvellous an 
influence over their life1 that in      
knowledge1 perfection1 and happiness    
they would almost rival the gods        
themselves4 ,but how could a shadow     
fulfil any promise1 much less induce    
the ,truth to descend to earth8 ,so     
after a long confiding expectancy1  men 
perceived the falseness of ,wisdom4 ,at 
the same time1 greedy of  novelty       
because of the idleness of their life1  
and stimulated partly  by ambition of   
equalling the gods1 and partly by the   
intensity of  their yearning for the    
happiness they imagined would ensue from
 the  possession of ,truth1 they        
presumptuously requested ,jove to lend  

them  this noble spirit for a time1 and 
reproached him for having so long       
jealously withheld from men the great   
advantages that would follow from  the  
presence of ,truth4 ,they with one      
accord expressed dissatisfaction  with  
their lot1 and renewed their former     
hateful whinings about the  meanness and
 misery of human things4 ,the ,phantoms1
 once so dear to  them1 were now almost 
entirely abandoned1 not that men had    
discerned  the unreality of their       
nature1 but because they were so debased
 in  mind and manners as to have no     
sympathy with even the appearance of    
goodness4 ,thus they wickedly rejected  
the greatest gift of gods to  men1 and  
excused themselves by saying that none  
but inferior genii had  been sent on    
earth1 the nobler ones1 whom they would 
willingly have  worshipped1 being       
retained in heaven4    ,many things long
 before this had contributed to lessen  
the goodwill  of ,jove towards men1     
especially the magnitude and number of  

their  vices and crimes1 which were far 
in advance of those punished by the     
deluge4 ,he was out of patience with the
 human race1 the restless  and          
unreasonable nature of which exasperated
 him4 ,he recognised the  futility of   
all effort on his part to make men happy
 and contented4  ,had he not enlarged   
the world1 multiplied its pleasures1 and
 increased  its diversity8 ,yet all     
things were soon regarded by men        
7desirous and  at the same time         
incapable of infinity7 as equally       
restricted and  valueless4 ,jove        
determined therefore to make a perpetual
 example of the  human race4 ,he        
resolved to punish men unsparingly1 and 
reduce them to  a state of misery far   
surpassing their former condition4      
,towards the  attainment of this end1 he
 purposed sending ,truth among men1 not 
for  a time only as they desired1 but   
for eternity1 and giving her supreme    
control and dominion over the human     
race1 instead of the ,phantoms that     

were now so greatly despised4    ,the   
other gods marvelled at this decision of
 ,jove1 as likely to  exalt the human   
race to a degree prejudicial to their   
own dignity4  ,but he explained to them 
that all genii are not beneficial1 and  
that  apart from this1 it was not of the
 nature of ,truth to produce the  same  
results among men as with the gods4 ,for
 whereas to the gods  she unveiled the  
eternity of their joy1 to mortals she   
would expose  the immensity of their    
unhappiness1 representing it to them not
 as a  matter of chance1 but as an      
inevitable and perpetual necessity4 ,and
  since human evils are great in        
proportion as they are believed to  be  
so by their victims1 it may be imagined 
how acute an affliction  ,truth will    
prove to men4 ,the vanity of all earthly
 things will be  apparent to them2 they 
will find that nothing is genuine save  
their  own unhappiness4 ,above all1 they
 will lose hope1 hitherto the greatest  
solace and support of life4 ,deprived of

 hope1 they will have nothing  to       
stimulate them to any exertions2        
consequently work1 industry1 and  all   
mental culture will languish1 and the   
life of the living will  partake of the 
inertness of the grave4 ,yet in spite of
 their despair  and inactivity1 men will
 still be tormented by their old longing
  for happiness intensified and         
quickened1 because they will be less    
distracted by cares1 and the stir of    
action4 ,they will also be deprived  of 
the power of imagination1 which in      
itself could mysteriously  transport    
them into a state of happiness          
comparable to the felicity for  which   
they long4    ,and1 said ,jove1 all     
those representations of infinity which 
,i  designedly placed in the world to   
deceive and satisfy men1 and all the    
vague thoughts suggestive of happiness1 
which ,i infused into their  minds1 will
 yield to the doctrines of ,truth4 ,the 
earth1 which formerly  displeased them  
for its insignificance1 will do so      

increasedly when its  true dimensions   
are known1 and when all the secrets of  
nature are made  manifest to them4 ,and 
finally1 with the disappearance of those
 ,phantoms  that alone gave brightness  
to existence1 human life will become    
aimless  and valueless4 ,nations and    
countries will lose even their names1   
for  with ,patriotism will vanish all   
incentive to national identities4 ,men  
will unite and form one nation and one  
people 7as they will say71 and  will    
profess a universal love for the race4  
,but in reality there will  be the least
 possible union amongst them2 they will 
be divided into as  many peoples as     
there are individuals4 ,for having no   
special country  to love1 and no        
foreigners to hate1 every man will hate 
his neighbour1  and love only himself4  
,the evil consequences of this are      
incalculable4  ,nevertheless1 men will  
not put an end to their unhappiness by  
depriving  themselves of life1 because  
under the sway of ,truth they will      

become  as cowardly as miserable4 ,truth
 will increase the bitterness of their  
existence1 and at the same time bereave 
them of sufficient courage to  reject   
it4    ,these words of ,jove moved the  
gods to compassion for the human race4  
,it seemed to them that so great        
inflictions were inconsistent with the  
divine attribute of mercy4    ,but ,jove
 continued3 ,there will remain to       
humanity a certain  consolation         
proceeding from the ,phantom ,love1     
which alone ,i purpose  leaving among   
men4 ,and even ,truth1 in spite of her  
almost omnipotence1  will never quite   
prevail over ,love1 nor succeed in      
chasing this ,phantom  from the earth1  
though the struggle between them will be
 perpetual4  ,thus the life of man1     
divided betwixt the worship of ,truth   
and ,love1  will consist of two epochs1 
during which these influences will      
respectively control his mind and       
actions4 ,to the aged1 instead of  the  
solace of ,love1 will be granted a state

 of contentment with their  existence1  
similar to that of other animals4 ,they 
will love life for  its own sake1 not   
for any pleasure or profit they derive  
from it4    ,accordingly1 ,jove removed 
the ,phantoms from earth1 save only     
,love1  the least noble of all1 and sent
 ,truth among men to exercise over  them
 perpetual rule4 ,the consequences      
foreseen by the god were not  long in   
making themselves manifest4 ,and strange
 to say1 whereas the  spirit before her 
descent on earth1 and when she had no   
real authority  over men1 was honoured  
by a multitude of temples and           
sacrifices1 her  presence had the effect
 of cooling their enthusiasm on her     
behalf4  ,with the other gods this was  
not so2 the more they made themselves   
manifest1 the more they were honoured2  
but ,truth saddened men1 and  ultimately
 inspired them with such hatred that    
they refused to worship  her1 and only  
by constraint rendered her obedience4   
,and whereas  formerly1 men who were    

under the especial influence of any one 
of  the ancient ,phantoms1 used to love 
and revere that ,phantom above the      
others1 ,truth was detested and cursed  
by those over whom she gained  supreme  
control4 ,so1 unable to resist her      
tyranny1 men lived from  that time in   
the complete state of misery1 which is  
their fate in the  present day1 and to  
which they are eternally doomed4    ,but
 not long ago1 pity1 which is never     
exhausted in the minds of  the gods1    
moved ,jove to compassionate the        
wretchedness of mortals4  ,he noticed   
especially the affliction of certain    
men1 remarkable for  their high         
intellect1 and nobility1 and purity of  
life1 who were  extraordinarily         
oppressed by the sway of ,truth4 ,now in
 former times1  when ,justice1 ,virtue1 
and the other ,phantoms directed        
humanity1 the  gods had been accustomed 
at times to visit the earth1 and sojourn
  with men for awhile1 always on such   
occasions benefiting the race1 or       

particular individuals1 in some especial
 manner4 ,but since men had  become so  
debased1 and sunk in wickedness1 they   
had not deigned to  associate with them4
 ,jove therefore1 pitying our condition1
 asked the  immortals whether any one of
 them would visit the earth as of old1  
and console men under their calamities1 
especially such as seemed  undeserving  
of the universal affliction4 ,all the   
gods were silent4  ,at length ,love1 the
 son of celestial ,venus1 bearing the   
same name as  the ,phantom ,love1 but   
very different in nature and power1 and 
the  most compassionate of the          
immortals1 offered himself for the      
mission  proposed by ,jove4 ,this deity 
was so beloved by the other gods1 that  
hitherto they had never allowed him to  
quit their presence1 even for  a moment4
 ,the ancients indeed imagined that the 
god had appeared to  them from time to  
time2 but it was not so4 ,they were     
deceived by the  subterfuges and        
transformations of the ,phantom ,love4  

,the deity of the  same name first      
visited mankind after they were placed  
under the empire  of ,truth4    ,since  
that time the god has rarely and briefly
 descended1 because of  the general     
unworthiness of humanity1 and the       
impatience with which  the celestials   
await his return4 ,when he comes on     
earth he chooses the  tender and noble  
hearts of the most generous and         
magnanimous persons4  ,here he rests for
 a short time1 diffusing in them so     
strange and  wondrous a sweetness1 and  
inspiring them with affections so lofty 
and  vigorous1 that they then experience
 what is entirely new to mankind1  the  
substance rather than the semblance of  
happiness4 ,sometimes1 though  very     
rarely1 he brings about the union of two
 hearts1 abiding in them  both          
simultaneously1 and exciting within them
 a reciprocal warmth and  desire4 ,all  
within whom he dwells beseech him to    
effect this union2  but ,jove forbids   
him to yield to their entreaties1 save  

in very few  instances1 because the     
happiness of such mutual love approaches
 too  nearly to the felicity of the     
immortals4    ,the man in whom ,love    
abides is the happiest of mortals4 ,and 
not only is  he blessed by the presence 
of the deity1 but he is also charmed by 
the  old mysterious ,phantoms1 which1   
though removed from the lot of men1 by  
,jove's permission follow in the train  
of ,love1 in spite of the great         
opposition of ,truth1 their supreme     
enemy4 ,but ,truth1 like all the other  
genii1 is powerless to resist the will  
of the gods4 ,and1 since destiny  has   
granted to ,love a state of eternal     
youth1 the god can partially  give      
effect to that first desire of men1 that
 they might return to the  happiness of 
their childhood4 ,in the souls he       
inhabits1 ,love awakens  and vivifies1  
so long as ha stays there1 the boundless
 hopes1 and the  sweet and fine         
illusions of early life4 ,many persons1 
ignorant and  incapable of appreciating 

,love1 vituperate and affront the god1  
even to  his face4 ,but he disregards   
these insults1 and exacts no vengeance  
for  them1 so noble and compassionate is
 his nature4 ,nor do the other gods  any
 longer trouble themselves about the    
crimes of men1 being satisfied  with the
 vengeance they have already wrought on 
the human race1 and  the incurable      
misery which is its portion4            
,consequently1 wicked and  blasphemous  
men suffer no punishment for their      
offences1 except that  they are         
absolutely excluded from being partakers
 of the divine favours4      ,footnote  
#a3 ,see ,herodotus1 ,strabo1 c4        
,,dialogue ,,between ,,hercules ,,and   
,,atlas4      ,hercules4 ,father ,atlas1
 ,jove's compliments1 and in case you   
should be  weary of your burden1 ,i was 
to relieve you for a few hours1 as ,i   
did  ,i don't know how many centuries   
ago1 so that you may take breath1 and   
rest a little4    ,atlas4 ,thanks1 dear 
,hercules1 and ,i am very much obliged  

to ,jove4  ,but the world has become so 
light1 that this cloak which ,i wear as 
a  protection against the snow1         
incommodes me more4 ,indeed1 were it not
  ,jove's will that ,i should continue  
to stand here1 supporting this ball  on 
my back1 ,i would put it under my arm1  
or in my pocket1 or suspend it  from a  
hair of my beard1 and go about my own   
affairs4    ,hercules4 ,how has it      
become so light8 ,i can easily see it   
has changed  shape1 and has become a    
sort of roll1 instead of being round as 
when ,i  studied cosmography in         
preparation for that wonderful voyage   
with the  ,argonauts4 ,but still ,i     
cannot see why its weight should have   
diminished4    ,atlas4 ,i am as ignorant
 of the reason as you are4 ,but take the
 thing  for a moment in your hand1 and  
satisfy yourself of the truth of my     
assertion4    ,hercules4 ,upon my word1 
without this test1 ,i would not have    
believed  it4 ,but what is this other   
novelty that ,i discover8 ,the last time

 ,i  bore it1 ,i felt a strong pulsation
 on my back1 like the beat of an        
animal's heart2 and ,i heard a          
continuous buzzing like a wasp's nest4  
,but now1 it throbs more like a watch   
with a broken spring1 and as for  the   
buzzing1 ,i don't hear a sound of it4   
,atlas4 ,i know nothing of this either1 
except that long ago1 the world  ceased 
making any motion1 or sensible noise4 ,i
 even had very great  suspicions that it
 was dead1 and expecting daily to be    
troubled by  its corruption1 ,i         
considered how and where ,i should bury 
it1 and what  epitaph ,i should place on
 its tomb4 ,but when ,i saw that it did 
not  decompose1 ,i came to the          
conclusion that it had changed from an  
animal  into a plant1 like ,daphne and  
others2 and this explained its silence  
and immobility4 ,i began to fear lest it
 should soon wind its roots  round my   
shoulders1 or bury them in my body4     
,hercules4 ,i am rather inclined to     
think it is asleep1 and that its  repose

 is like that of ,epimenides1#a which   
lasted more than half a  century4 ,or   
perhaps it is like ,hermotimus1#b whose 
soul used to leave  his body when it    
pleased1 and stay away many years1      
disporting itself  in foreign lands4 ,to
 put an end to this game1 the friends of
 ,hermotimus  burned the body2 so that  
the spirit returning1 found its home    
destroyed1 and was obliged to seek      
shelter in another body1 or an inn4     
,so1 to prevent the world from sleeping 
for ever1 or lest some friend1  thinking
 it were dead1 should set it on fire1   
let us try to arouse it4    ,atlas4 ,i  
am willing4 ,but how shall we do it8    
,hercules4 ,i would give it a good blow 
with this club1 if ,i were not  afraid  
of smashing it1 and were ,i not sure    
that it would crack under  the stroke   
like an egg4 ,besides1 ,i fear lest the 
men1 who in my time  used to wrestle    
with lions1 but are now only a match for
 fleas1 should  faint from so sudden a  
shock4 ,suppose ,i lay aside my club1   

and you your  cloak1 and we have a game 
at ball with the poor little sphere4 ,i 
wish  ,i had brought the rackets that   
,mercury and ,i use in the celestial    
courts1 but we can do without them4     
,atlas4 ,a likely thing indeed6 ,so that
 your father seeing our game1  may make 
a third1 and with his thunderbolt       
precipitate us both ,i do not  know     
where1 as he did ,phaeton into the ,po6 
,hercules4 ,that might be1 if1 like     
,phaeton1 ,i were the son of a poet1    
and not his own son2 and if there were  
not this difference between  us1 that   
whereas poets formerly peopled cities by
 the melody of their  art1 ,i could     
depopulate heaven and earth by the power
 of my club4 ,and  as for ,jove's bolt1 
,i would kick it hence to the farthest  
quarter of  the empyrean4 ,be assured   
that even if ,i wished to appropriate   
five  or six stars for the sake of a    
game1 or to make a sling of a comet1    
taking it by the tail1 or even to play  
at ball with the sun1 my father  would  

make no objection4 ,besides1 our        
intention is to do good to the  world1  
whereas ,phaeton simply wished to show  
off his fleetness before  the ,hours1   
who held the steps for him when he      
mounted his chariot4 ,he  also wanted to
 gain reputation as a skilful coach-man1
 in the eyes of  ,andromeda1 ,callisto1 
and the other beautiful constellations1 
to whom1  it is said1 he threw1 in      
passing1 lustre bonbons1 and comfits of 
light2  and to make a fine parade of    
himself before the celestial gods during
  his journey that day1 which chanced to
 be a festival4 ,in short1 don't  give a
 thought to the possibility of my       
father's wrath4 ,in any case1 ,i  will  
bear all the blame2 so throw off your   
cloak1 and send me the ball4    ,atlas4 
,willingly or not1 ,i must do as you    
wish2 since you are strong  and armed1  
whereas ,i am old and defenceless4 ,but 
do take care lest it  fall1 in which    
case it will have fresh swellings1 or   
some new fracture1  like that which     

separated ,sicily from ,italy1 and      
,africa from ,spain4 ,and  if it should 
get chipped in any way1 there might be a
 war about what  men would call the     
detachment of a province or kingdom4    
,hercules4 ,rely on me4    ,atlas4 ,then
 here goes4 ,see how it quivers on      
account of its altered  shape6          
,hercules4 ,hit a little harder2 your   
strokes scarcely reach me4    ,atlas4   
,it is the fault of the ball4 ,the      
south-west wind catches it1  because of 
its lightness4    ,hercules4 ,it is its 
old failing to go with the wind4        
,atlas4 ,suppose we were to inflate the 
ball1 since it has no more  notion of a 
bounce than a melon4    ,hercules4 ,a   
new shortcoming6 ,formerly it used to   
leap and dance like  a young goat4      
,atlas4 ,look out6 ,run quickly after   
that4 ,for ,jove's sake1 take care  lest
 it fall6 ,alas6 it was an evil hour    
when you came here4    ,hercules4 ,you  
sent me such a bad stroke that ,i could 
not possibly  have caught it in time1   

even at the risk of breaking my neck4   
,alas1  poor little one6444 ,how are    
you8 ,do you feel bad anywhere8 ,i don't
 hear  a sigh1 nor does a soul move4    
,they are all still asleep4    ,atlas4  
,give it back to me1 by all the horns of
 the ,styx1 and let me  settle it again 
on my shoulders4 ,and you1 take your    
club1 and hasten  to heaven to excuse me
 with ,jove for this accident1 which is 
entirely  owing to you4    ,hercules4 ,i
 will do so4 ,for many centuries there  
has been in my  father's house a certain
 poet1 named ,horace4 ,he was made court
 poet  at the suggestion of ,augustus1  
who has been deified by ,jove for his   
augmentation of the ,eoman power4 ,in   
one of his songs1 this poet says  that  
the just man would stir not1 though the 
world fell4 ,since the  world has now   
fallen1 and no one has moved1 it follows
 that all men are  just4    ,atlas4 ,who
 doubts the justice of men8 ,but do not 
lose time2 run  and exculpate me with   
your father1 else ,i shall momentarily  

expect a  thunderbolt to transform me   
from ,atlas into ,etna4      ,footnote  
#a3 ,see ,pliny1 ,diogenes ,laertius1   
,apollonius1 ,varr1 c4    ,footnote #b3 
,see ,apollonius1 ,pliny1 ,tertullian1  
c4          ,,dialogue ,,between        
,,fashion ,,and ,,death4      ,fashion4 
,madam ,death1 ,madam ,death6    ,death4
 ,wait until your time comes1 and then  
,i will appear without  being called by 
you4    ,fashion4 ,madam ,death6        
,death4 ,go to the devil4 ,i will come  
when you least expect me4    ,fashion4  
,as if ,i were not immortal6    ,death4 
,immortal8    ,already has passed the   
thousandth year1    since the age of    
immortals ended4    ,fashion4 ,madam is 
as much a ,petrarchist as if she were an
 ,italian  poet of the fifteenth or     
eighteenth century4    ,death4 ,i like  
,petrarch because he composed my        
triumph1 and because he  refers so often
 to me4 ,but ,i must be moving4         
,fashion4 ,stay6 ,for the love you bear 
to the seven cardinal sins1 stop  a     

moment and look at me4    ,death4 ,well4
 ,i am looking4    ,fashion4 ,do you not
 recognise me8    ,death4 ,you must know
 that ,i have bad sight1 and am without 
spectacles4 ,the ,english make none to  
suit me2 and if they did1 ,i should  not
 know where to put them4    ,fashion4 ,i
 am ,fashion1 your sister4    ,death4   
,my sister8    ,fashion4 ,yes4 ,do you  
not remember we are both born of ,decay8
    ,death4 ,as if ,i1 who am the chief 
enemy of ,memory1 should recollect it6  
,fashion4 ,but ,i do4 ,i know also that 
we both equally profit by the  incessant
 change and destruction of things here  
below1 although you do  so in one way1  
and ,i in another4    ,death4 ,unless   
you are speaking to yourself1 or to some
 one inside  your throat1 raise your    
voice1 and pronounce your words more    
distinctly4 ,if you go mumbling between 
your teeth with that thin  spider-voice 
of yours1 ,i shall never understand you2
 because you ought  to know that my     
hearing serves me no better than my     

sight4    ,fashion4 ,although it be     
contrary to custom1 for in ,france they 
do  not speak to be heard1 yet1 since we
 are sisters1 ,i will speak as you      
wish1 for we can dispense with ceremony 
between ourselves4 ,i say then  that our
 common nature and custom is to         
incessantly renew the world4  ,you      
attack the life of man1 and overthrow   
all people and nations from  beginning  
to end2 whereas ,i content myself for   
the most part with  influencing beards1 
head-dresses1 costumes1 furniture1      
houses1 and  the like4 ,it is true1 ,i  
do some things comparable to your       
supreme  action4 ,i pierce ears1 lips1  
and noses1 and cause them to be torn  by
 the ornaments ,i suspend from them4 ,i 
impress men's skin with hot  iron       
stamps1 under the pretence of adornment4
 ,i compress the heads  of children with
 tight bandages and other contrivances2 
and make it  customary for all men of a 
country to have heads of the same shape1
 as  in parts of ,america and ,asia4 ,i 

torture and cripple people with small   
shoes4 ,i stifle women with stays so    
tight1 that their eyes start from  their
 heads2 and ,i play a thousand similar  
pranks4 ,i also frequently  persuade and
 force men of refinement to bear daily  
numberless fatigues  and discomforts1   
and often real sufferings2 and some even
 die  gloriously for love of me4 ,i will
 say nothing of the headaches1 colds1   
inflammations of all kinds1             
fevers--daily1 tertian1 and             
quartan--which  men gain by their       
obedience to me4 ,they are content to   
shiver with  cold1 or melt with heat1   
simply because it is my will that they  
cover  their shoulders with wool1 and   
their breasts with cotton4 ,in fact1    
they  do everything in my way1          
regardless of their own injury4         
,death4 ,in truth1 ,i believe you are my
 sister2 the testimony of a  birth      
certificate could scarcely make me surer
 of it4 ,but standing  still paralyses  
me1 so if you can1 let us run2 only you 

must not creep1  because ,i go at a     
great pace4 ,as we proceed you can tell 
me what you  want4 ,if you cannot keep  
up with me1 on account of our           
relationship ,i  promise when ,i die to 
bequeath you all my clothes and effects 
as a ,new  ,year's gift4    ,fashion4   
,if we ran a race together1 ,i hardly   
know which of us would  win4 ,for if you
 run1 ,i gallop1 and standing still1    
which paralyses you1  is death to me4   
,so let us run1 and we will chat as we  
go along4    ,death4 ,so be it then4    
,since your mother was mine1 you ought  
to serve  me in some way1 and assist me 
in my business4    ,fashion4 ,i have    
already done so--more than              
you1--imagine4 ,above all1  ,i1 who     
annul and transform other customs       
unceasingly1 have nowhere  changed the  
custom of death2 for this reason it has 
prevailed from the  beginning of the    
world until now4    ,death4 ,a great    
miracle forsooth1 that you have never   
done what you  could not do6            

,fashion4 ,why cannot ,i do it8 ,you    
show how ignorant you are of the  power 
of ,fashion4    ,death4 ,well1 well3    
time enough to talk of this when you    
introduce the  custom of not dying4 ,but
 at present1 ,i want you1 like a good   
sister1  to aid me in rendering my task 
more easy and expeditious than it has   
hitherto been4    ,fashion4 ,i have     
already mentioned some of my labours    
which are a  source of profit to you4   
,but they are trifling in comparison    
with those  of which ,i will now tell   
you4    ,little by little1 and          
especially in modern times1 ,i have     
brought into  disuse and discredit those
 exertions and exercises which promote  
bodily  health2 and have substituted    
numberless others which enfeeble the    
body in a thousand ways1 and shorten    
life4 ,besides1 ,i have introduced      
customs and manners1 which render       
existence a thing more dead than  alive1
 whether regarded from a physical or    
mental point of view2  so that this     

century may be aptly termed the century 
of death4 ,and  whereas formerly you had
 no other possessions except graves and 
vaults1  where you sowed bones and dust1
 which are but a barren seed1 now you   
have fine landed properties1 and people 
who are a sort of freehold  possession  
of yours as soon as they are born1      
though not then claimed  by you4 ,and   
more1 you1 who used formerly to be hated
 and vituperated1  are in the present   
day1 thanks to me1 valued and lauded by 
all men of  genius4 ,such an one prefers
 you to life itself1 and holds you in   
such  high esteem that he invokes you1  
and looks to you as his greatest hope4  
,but this is not all4 ,i perceived that 
men had some vague idea of an           
after-life1 which they called           
immortality4 ,they imagined they lived  
in  the memory of their fellows1 and    
this remembrance they sought after      
eagerly4 ,of course this was in reality 
mere fancy1 since what could it  matter 
to them when dead1 that they lived in   

the minds of men8 ,as well  might they  
dread contamination in the grave6 ,yet1 
fearing lest this  chimera might be     
prejudicial to you1 in seeming to       
diminish your honour  and reputation1 ,i
 have abolished the fashion of seeking  
immortality1  and its concession1 even  
when merited4 ,so that now1 whoever dies
 may  assure himself that he is dead    
altogether1 and that every bit of him   
goes into the ground1 just as a little  
fish is swallowed1 bones and  all4      
,these important things my love for you 
has prompted me to effect4 ,i  have also
 succeeded in my endeavour to increase  
your power on earth4 ,i  am more than   
ever desirous of continuing this work4  
,indeed1 my object  in seeking you      
to-day was to make a proposal that for  
the future we  should not separate1 but 
jointly might scheme and execute for the
  furtherance of our respective designs4
    ,death4 ,you speak reasonably1 and  
,i am willing to do as you propose4     
,,prize ,,competition ,,announced ,,by  

,,the ,,academy ,,of ,,sillographs4     
,the ,academy of ,sillographs1 ardently 
desiring to advance the common  welfare1
 and esteeming nothing more conformable 
to this end than the  promotion of the  
progress    ,of the happy century in    
which we live1    as says an illustrious
 poet1 has taken in hand the careful    
consideration of the nature and tendency
 of our time4 ,after long and  mature   
consultation1 the ,academy has resolved 
to call our era the  age of machines2   
not only because the men of to-day live 
and move  perhaps more mechanically than
 in past times1 but also on account of  
the numerous machines now invented and  
utilised for so many different          
purposes4 ,to such an extent indeed is  
this carried1 that machines and  not men
 may be said to manage human affairs1   
and conduct the business  of life4 ,this
 circumstance greatly pleases the said  
,academy1 not so  much because of the   
manifest convenience of the arrangement1
 as for two  reasons1 which it thinks   

very important1 although ordinarily they
 are  not so regarded4 ,the one is the  
possibility that in process of time the 
influence and usefulness of machines may
 extend to spiritual as well  as        
material things4 ,and as by virtue of   
these machines and inventions1  we are  
already protected from lightning1       
storms1 and other such evils  and       
terrors2 similarly there may be         
discovered some cure for envy1  calumny1
 perfidy1 and trickery2 some safety-cord
 or other invention  to deliver us from 
egotism1 from the prevalence of         
mediocrity1 from  prosperous fools1 bad 
and debased persons1 from the universal 
spirit  of indifference1 from the       
wretchedness peculiar to the wise1 the  
cultivated1 the noble-minded1 and from  
other discomforts which for many        
centuries have been more invincible than
 either lightning or tempests4  ,the    
other and chief reason concerns the     
unhappy condition of the human  race4   
,most philosophers despair of its       

improvement1 or the cure of its         
defects1 which probably equal or exceed 
in number its virtues4 ,they  believe it
 would be easier to entirely re-create  
the race in another  way1 or to         
substitute a different genus altogether1
 than to amend  it4 ,the ,academy of    
,sinographs is therefore of opinion that
 it is very  expedient for men to       
withdraw from the business of life as   
much as  possible1 and gradually to     
resign in favour of machines4 ,and being
  resolved to support with all its might
 the progress of this new order  of     
things1 it now begs to offer three      
prizes for the inventors of the  three  
following machines4    ,the aim of the  
first machine must be to represent a    
friend warranted  not to abuse or       
ridicule his absent friend2 nor forsake 
his friend when  he hears him made the  
subject of jest2 nor to seek the        
reputation of  acuteness1 sarcasm1 and  
the power of exciting men's laughter at 
his  friend's expense2 nor to divulge or

 boast of secrets confided to him2  nor 
to take advantage of his friend's       
intimacy and confidence in order  to    
supplant and surpass him2 nor to envy   
his friend's good fortune4  ,but it must
 be solicitous for his friend's welfare1
 join issue with  him against his       
misfortunes1 and assist him in deeds as 
well as words4  ,reference to the       
treatises of ,cicero and the ,marquise  
of ,lambert on  ,friendship may be      
advantageously made for further         
suggestions as to  the manufacture of   
this automaton4 ,the ,academy thinks the
 invention  of this machine ought not to
 be regarded as either impossible1 or   
even very difficult1 seeing that besides
 the automata of ,regiomontano1         
,vaucanson1 and others1 and the one in  
,london which drew figures and          
portraits1 and wrote from dictation1    
there are machines that can even  play  
chess unassisted4 ,now in the opinion of
 many savants1 human  life is a game1   
and some assert it to be a thing even   

more frivolous4  ,they say that the game
 of chess is a more rationally conceived
 thing1  and its hazards are less       
uncertain than those of life4 ,besides1 
,pindar has called life a thing of no   
more substance than the dream of  a     
shadow2 in which case it ought not to be
 beyond the capacity of a  vigilant     
automaton4 ,as to speech1 there is no   
reason why men should  not be able to   
communicate this to machines of their   
manufacture4 ,for  amongst examples of  
manufactures so endowed1 we may number  
the statue  of ,memnon1 and the head    
formed by ,albertus ,magnus2 this latter
 was  so loquacious that ,st4 ,thomas   
,aquinas1 irritated at its incessant    
tittle-tattle1 broke it in pieces4 ,and 
if the parrot of ,nevers 7though        
certainly this was an animal1 however   
small a one7 could converse1 how  much  
more credible that a machine1 conceived 
by the mind of man1 and  constructed by 
his hands1 should be able to acquire    
such attainments8  ,the machine ought   

not to be so talkative as the parrot of 
,nevers1 and  other similar ones1 which 
we see and hear everywhere2 nor as the  
head  made by ,albertus ,magnus2 for it 
must not weary its friend1 thereby      
inciting him to its destruction4    ,the
 inventor of this machine shall receive 
a reward of a gold medal  weighing four 
hundred sequins1 which on the one side  
shall have a  representation of the     
figures of ,pylades and ,orestes1 and on
 the other  side the name of the person 
rewarded1 together with the inscription1
  ,first verifier of the ancient fables4
    ,the second machine must be an      
artificial man worked by steam1 adapted 
and constructed for virtuous and        
magnanimous actions4 ,the ,academy is of
  opinion that since no other method    
appears to exist1 steam ought to  be    
capable of directing an animated        
automaton in the paths of virtue  and   
glory4 ,candidates for this competition 
are referred to books of  poems and     
romances for suggestions as to the      

qualities and powers with  which to     
endow the figure4 ,the reward to be a   
gold medal weighing four  hundred and   
fifty sequins1 stamped on the one side  
with some fanciful  design significative
 of the age of gold1 and on its reverse 
the name of  the inventor of the        
machine1 together with this inscription 
from the  fourth eclogue of ,virgil3    
,quo ferrea primum desinet ac toto      
surget  gens aurea mundo4    ,the third 
machine should be empowered to act as a 
woman1 realising  the conception formed 
partly by ,count ,baldassar             
,castiglione1 who  describes his idea in
 the book of the ,cortegiano1 and partly
 by  others1 easily discoverable in     
various writings which must be consulted
  and combined with those of the ,count4
 ,nor ought the invention of this       
machine to appear impossible to men of  
our times1 when it be remembered  that  
,pygmalion long ago1 in an age far from 
scientific1 was able to  fabricate a    
spouse with his own hands1 who was      

considered to be the  best woman that   
had ever existed4 ,to the originator of 
this machine  a gold medal weighing five
 hundred sequins is assigned1 on the one
  side of which shall be represented the
 ,arabian ,phoenix of ,metastasio1      
perched on a tree of some ,european     
species1 and on the other side shall  be
 written the name of the recipient1 with
 the inscription1 ,inventor  of faithful
 women1 and conjugal happiness4 ,the    
,academy decrees that  the cost of these
 prizes must be defrayed with what was  
discovered in  the satchel of ,diogenes1
 late ,secretary of this ,academy1 or by
 means  of one of the three golden asses
 that belonged to three ,sillographic   
,academicians1 ,apuleius1 ,firenzuola1  
and ,macchiavelli2 all which  property  
passed to the ,sillographists by will of
 the deceased1 as may  be read in the   
,chronicles of the ,academy4            
,,dialogue ,,between ,a ,,goblin ,,and  
,a ,,gnome4      ,goblin4 ,you here1 son
 of ,beelzebub6 where are you going8    

,gnome4 ,my father has sent me to find  
out what these rascals of men  are      
doing4 ,he is inclined to suspect       
something1 because it is so  long since 
they gave us any trouble1 and in all his
 realms there is  not a single one to be
 seen4 ,he wonders whether any great    
change has  taken place1 and thinks     
perhaps they have returned to the       
primitive  system of barter1 whereby    
they use sheep instead of gold and      
silver2  or the civilised people have   
become dissatisfied with paper notes for
  money1 as they have often been1 or    
have taken to cowrie shells such as     
savages use2 or the laws of ,lycurgus   
have been re-established4 ,the last     
possibility seems to him the least      
likely4    ,goblin4 ,you seek them in   
vain1 for they are all dead1 as said the
  survivors in a tragedy where the      
principal personages died in the last   
act4    ,gnome4 ,what do you mean8      
,goblin4 ,i mean that men are all dead1 
and the race is lost4    ,gnome4 ,my    

word6 what news for the papers6 ,but how
 is it they have not  already mentioned 
it8    ,goblin4 ,stupid4 ,do you not see
 that if there are no men there will be 
no more newspapers8    ,gnome4 ,yes1    
that is true4 ,but how shall we know in 
future the news of  the world8          
,goblin4 ,news6 what news8 ,that the sun
 rises and sets8 ,that it is hot  or    
cold8 ,that here or there it has rained 
or snowed1 or been windy8    ,since men 
disappeared1 ,fortune has unbandaged her
 eyes1 put on  spectacles1 and attached 
her wheel to a pivot4 ,she sits with    
arms  crossed1 watching the world go    
round without troubling herself in the  
least as to its affairs4 ,there are no  
more kingdoms nor empires to  swell     
themselves1 and burst like bubbles1 for 
they have all vanished4  ,there is no   
more war2 and the years are as like one 
another as two peas4    ,gnome4 ,no one 
will know the day of the month1 since   
there will be no  more calendars        
printed6    ,goblin4 ,what a misfortune6

 ,nevertheless1 the moon will continue  
her  course4    ,gnome4 ,and the days of
 the week will be nameless6    ,goblin4 
,what does it matter8 ,do you think they
 will not come unless  you call them8   
,or1 that once passed1 they will return 
if you call out  their names8    ,gnome4
 ,and no one will take any count of the 
years6    ,goblin4 ,we shall be able to 
say we are young when we are old2 and we
  shall forget our cares when we cannot 
fix their anniversary4 ,besides1  when  
we are very old1 we shall not know it1  
nor be expecting death  daily4          
,gnome4 ,but how is it these rogues have
 disappeared8    ,goblin4 ,some killed  
themselves with fighting2 others were   
drowned in  the sea4 ,some ate each     
other4 ,not a few committed suicide4    
,some died of  ennui in idleness2 and   
some turned their brains with study4    
,debauch1  and a thousand other         
excesses1 put an end to many more4 ,in  
short1 they  have arrived at their end1 
by endeavouring1 as long as they lived1 

to  violate the laws of nature1 and to  
go contrary to their welfare4    ,gnome4
 ,still1 ,i do not understand how an    
entire race of animals can  become      
extinct without leaving any trace behind
 it4    ,goblin4 ,you who are a         
specialist in geology ought to know that
 the  circumstance is not a new one1 and
 that many kinds of animals lived       
anciently1 which to-day are nowhere to  
be found except in the remains  of a few
 petrified bones4 ,moreover1 these poor 
creatures employed none  of the means   
used by men for their destruction4      
,gnome4 ,it may be so4 ,i should dearly 
like to resuscitate one or two  of the  
rascals1 just to know what they would   
think when they saw all  going on as    
before1 in spite of the disappearance of
 the human race4  ,would they then      
imagine that everything was made and    
maintained solely  for them8    ,goblin4
 ,they would not like to realise that   
the world exists solely  for the use of 
the ,goblins4    ,gnome4 ,you are       

joking1 my friend1 if you mean what you 
say4    ,goblin4 ,why8 ,of course ,i do4
    ,gnome4 ,go along with you1 buffoon6
 who does not know that the world  is   
made for the ,gnomes8    ,goblin4 ,for  
the ,gnomes1 who live underground6 ,that
 is one of the best  jokes ,i have ever 
heard4 ,what good are the sun1 moon1    
air1 sea1 and  country to the ,gnomes8  
,gnome4 ,and pray of what use to the    
,goblins are the mines of gold and      
silver1 and the whole body of earth1    
except the outer skin8    ,goblin4      
,well1 well3 suppose we abandon the     
discussion4 ,it is  unimportant after   
all4 ,for ,i imagine even the lizards   
and gnats think  the whole world was    
created for their exclusive service4    
,let each of us  believe what we please1
 for nothing will make us change our    
opinion4  ,but1 between ourselves1 if ,i
 had not been born a ,goblin1 ,i should 
be in  despair4    ,gnome4 ,and ,i1 had 
,i not been born a ,gnome4 ,but ,i      
should like to  know what men would say 

of their impertinence in former times1  
when1  besides other misdeeds1 they sank
 thousands of underground shafts1 and   
stole our goods from us by force1       
asserting that they belonged to the     
human race4 ,nature1 they said1         
concealed and buried the things down    
below1 as a sort of game at hide and    
seek1 just to see if they could         
discover and abstract them4    ,goblin4 
,i do not wonder at that1 since they not
 only imagined the  things of the world 
were at their service1 but they also    
regarded  them as a mere trifle compared
 to the human race4 ,they called their  
own vicissitudes revolutions of the     
world2 and histories of their  nations1 
histories of the world2 although the    
earth contained about  as many different
 species of animals as living individual
 human beings4  ,yet these animals1     
though made expressly for the use of    
men1 were never  conscious of the       
so-called revolutions of the world6     
,gnome4 ,then even the fleas and gnats  

were made for the service of men8       
,goblin4 ,just so4 ,to exercise their   
patience1 men said4    ,gnome4 ,as if1  
apart from fleas1 man's patience were   
not tried  sufficiently6    ,goblin4    
,and a certain man named ,chrysippus    
termed pigs pieces of meat  expressly   
prepared by nature for man's table4     
,their souls1 he said1  served the      
purpose of salt1 in preserving them from
 decay4    ,gnome4 ,in my opinion1 if   
,chrysippus had had a little sense      
7salt7 in  his brain1 instead of        
imagination 7soul71 he would never have 
conceived  such an idea4    ,goblin4    
,here is another amusing circumstance4  
,an infinite number  of species of      
animals were never seen1 nor heard of by
 men their  masters1 either because they
 lived where man never set foot1 or     
because  they were too small to be      
observed4 ,many others were only        
discovered  during the last days of the 
human race4 ,the same may be said of    
plants1 minerals1 c4 ,similarly1 from   

time to time1 by means of their         
telescopes1 they perceived some star or 
planet1 of the existence of  which      
hitherto1 during thousands and thousands
 of years1 they had been  ignorant4     
,they then immediately entered it on the
 catalogue of their  possessions2 for   
they regarded the stars and planets as  
so many candles  placed up above to give
 light to their dominions1 because they 
were  wont to transact much business in 
the night4    ,gnome4 ,and in summer1   
when they saw those little meteor flames
  that rush through the air at night1   
they imagined them to be sprites        
employed in snuffing the candles for the
 good of mankind4    ,goblin4 ,yet now  
that they are all gone1 the earth is    
none the worse  off4 ,the rivers still  
flow1 and the sea1 although no longer   
used for  navigation and traffic1 is not
 dried up4    ,gnome4 ,the stars and    
planets still rise and set2 nor have    
they gone  into mourning4    ,goblin4   
,neither has the sun put on sackcloth   

and ashes1 as it did1  according to     
,virgil1 when ,csar died2 about whom ,i 
imagine it concerned  itself as little  
as ,pompey's ,pillar4                   
,,dialogue ,,between ,,malambruno ,,and 
,,farfarello4      ,malambruno4 ,spirits
 of the deep1 ,farfarello1 ,ciriatto1   
,raconero1  ,astarotte1 ,alichino1 or   
whatever else you are called1 ,i adjure 
you in  the name of ,beelzebub1 and     
command you by virtue of my art1 which  
can  unhinge the moon1 and nail the sun 
in the midst of the heavens1 come  one  
of you with your prince's permission1 to
 put all the powers of hell  at my      
disposal4    ,farfarello4 ,here ,i am4  
,mal4 ,who are you8    ,far4            
,farfarello1 at thy service4    ,mal4   
,have you the mandate of ,beelzebub8    
,far4 ,i have2 and can thus do for thee 
all that the king himself could  do1 and
 more than lies in the power of all     
other creatures together4    ,mal4 ,it  
is well4 ,i wish to be satisfied in but 
one desire4    ,far4 ,thou shalt be     

obeyed4 ,what is it8 ,dost thou wish for
 majesty  surpassing that of the        
,atrides8    ,mal4 ,no4    ,far4 ,more  
wealth than shall be found in ,el       
,dorado1 when it is  discovered8 ,mal4  
,no4    ,far4 ,an empire as large as    
that of which ,charles ,v4 dreamt one   
night8    ,mal4 ,no4    ,far4 ,a        
mistress chaster than ,penelope8        
,mal4 ,no3 methinks the devil's aid were
 superfluous for that4    ,far4 ,honours
 and success1 however wicked thou mayst 
be8    ,mal4 ,i should rather more need 
the devil1 if ,i wished the contrary1   
under such circumstances4    ,far4 ,then
 what dost thou want8    ,mal4 ,make me 
happy for a moment4    ,far4 ,i cannot4 
,mal4 ,why8    ,far4 ,i give you my word
 of honour--,i cannot do it4    ,mal4   
,the word of honour of a good demon8    
,far4 ,yes1 to be sure4 ,thou shouldest 
know that there are good devils  as well
 as good men4    ,mal4 ,and you must    
know that ,i will hang you by the tail  
to one of  these beams if you do not    

instantly obey me without more words4   
,far4 ,it were easier for you to kill   
me1 than for me to satisfy your         
demands4    ,mal4 ,then return with my  
malediction1 and let ,beelzebub come    
himself4    ,far4 ,beelzebub and the    
whole army of hell would be equally     
powerless  to render you or any of your 
race happy4    ,mal4 ,not even for a    
single moment8    ,far4 ,as impossible  
for a moment1 half a moment1 or the     
thousandth  part of a moment1 as for a  
lifetime4    ,mal4 ,well1 since you     
cannot make me happy in any way1 at     
least free  me from unhappiness4        
,far4 ,on condition that you no longer  
love yourself above everything  else4   
,mal4 ,i shall only cease doing that    
when ,i die4    ,far4 ,but as long as   
you live you will be unable to do it4   
,your nature  would tolerate anything   
rather than that4    ,mal4 ,so it is4   
,far4 ,consequently1 loving yourself    
above everything1 you desire your  own  
happiness more than anything4 ,but      

because this is unattainable1 you  must 
necessarily be unhappy4    ,mal4 ,even  
when engaged in pleasure2 since no      
gratification can make  me happy1 or    
satisfy me4    ,far4 ,truly none4       
,mal4 ,and because pleasure cannot      
satisfy my soul's innate desire for     
happiness1 it is not true pleasure1 and 
during its continuance ,i shall  still  
be unhappy4    ,far4 ,as you say3       
because in men and other living beings1 
the  deprivation of happiness1 even     
though pain and misfortune be wanting1  
implies express unhappiness4 ,this1 too1
 during the continuance of  so-called   
pleasures4    ,mal4 ,so that from birth 
to death our unhappiness never ceases   
for an  instant4    ,far4 ,yes1 it      
ceases whenever you sleep dreamlessly1  
or when1 from one  cause or another1 you
 are deprived of your senses4    ,mal4  
,but never1 so long as we are sensible  
that we live4    ,far4 ,never4    ,mal4 
,so that in fact it were better not to  
live than to live4    ,far4 ,if the     

absence of unhappiness be better than   
unhappiness itself4    ,mal4 ,then8     
,far4 ,then if you would like to give me
 your soul before its time1 ,i  am ready
 to carry it away with me4              
,,dialogue ,,between ,,nature ,,and ,a  
,,soul4      ,nature4 ,go1 my beloved   
child4 ,you shall be regarded as my     
favoured  one for very many centuries4  
,live3 be great and unhappy4    ,soul4  
,what evil have ,i done before beginning
 to live1 that you  condemn me to this  
misery8    ,nature4 ,what misery1 my    
child8    ,soul4 ,do you not ordain that
 ,i am to be unhappy8    ,nature4 ,yes2 
but only so far as to enable you to be  
great1 which you  cannot become without 
unhappiness4 ,besides1 you are destined 
to animate  a human body1 and all men   
are of necessity unhappy from their     
birth4    ,soul4 ,it were more          
reasonable that you made happiness a    
necessity2 or  this being impossible1 it
 were better not to bring men into the  
world4    ,nature4 ,i can do neither the

 one thing nor the other1 because ,i am 
subordinate to ,destiny1 who decrees the
 contrary4 ,the reason of this  is as   
much a mystery to myself as to you4 ,now
 that you are created and  designed to  
animate a human being1 no power in the  
world can save you  from the unhappiness
 common to men4 ,moreover1 your         
infelicity will be  especially great1   
owing to the perfection with which ,i   
have fashioned  you4    ,soul4 ,i know  
nothing yet1 because ,i have only just  
begun to live4  ,doubtless this is why  
,i do not understand you4 ,but tell me1 
is  greatness the same thing as extreme 
unhappiness8 ,if1 however1 they are     
different1 why could not the one be     
separated from the other8    ,nature4   
,in the souls of men1 and               
proportionately in those of all         
animals1 they are inseparable1 because  
excellence of soul implies great        
capacity for knowledge1 which in        
exposing to men the unhappiness of      
humanity may be termed unhappiness      

itself4 ,similarly1 a life of greater   
intensity involves a greater love of    
self1 manifested in different  ways4 ,an
 increased desire for happiness is a    
consequence of this  self-love and      
increased unhappiness1 because of the   
impossibility of  satisfying this       
desire1 and as the unfortunate condition
 of humanity  becomes realised4 ,all    
this is decreed from the beginning of   
creation1  and is unalterable by me4    
,moreover1 the keenness of your         
intellect and the strength of your      
imagination will lessen considerably    
your power of self-control4 ,brute      
animals readily adapt all their         
faculties and powers to the attainment  
of their ends2 but men rarely do so1    
being usually prevented by their  reason
 and imagination1 which give birth to a 
thousand doubts in  deliberation1 and a 
thousand hindrances in execution4 ,the  
less men  are inclined or accustomed to 
deliberate1 the more prompt are they in 
decision1 and the more vigorous in      

action4 ,but such souls as yours1       
self-contained1 and proudly conscious of
 their greatness1 are really  powerless 
for self-rule1 and often succumb to     
irresolution both in  thought and       
action4 ,this temperament is one of the 
greatest curses of  human life4         
,added to this1 although by your noble  
talents you will easily and  quickly    
excel most men in profound knowledge and
 works of the greatest  difficulty1 you 
will yet find it almost impossible to   
learn1 or put in  practice1 a host of   
things1 trivial enough1 but very        
essential1 for  your intercourse with   
others4 ,at the same time1 you2 will see
 your  inferiors1 and even men of       
scarcely any intelligence1 perfectly at 
home  with these things4 ,such          
difficulties and miseries as these      
occupy and  surround great souls2 but   
they are amply atoned for by fame1      
praise1  and honours paid to their      
greatness1 and by the lasting memory    
they  leave behind them4    ,soul4      

,whence will come these praises and     
honours1--from heaven1 from  you1 or    
from whom8    ,nature4 ,from men1 who   
alone can dispense them4    ,soul4 ,but 
,i thought my ignorance of those things 
necessary for the  intercourse of life1 
which intellects inferior to mine so    
easily  comprehend1 would cause me to be
 despised and shunned1 not praised by   
men4 ,i thought too that ,i should      
surely live unknown to most of them1    
because of my unfitness for their       
society4    ,nature4 ,i have not the    
power to foresee the future1 so ,i      
cannot say  exactly how men will behave 
to you whilst you are on earth4 ,but    
judging  from past experience1 ,i think 
they will probably be jealous of you4   
,this is another misfortune to which    
great minds are peculiarly liable4      
,perhaps too1 they will despise you1 and
 treat you with indifference4  ,fortune 
herself1 and even circumstances1 are    
usually unfriendly to such  as you4     
,but directly after your death1 as      

happened to one named ,camoens1 or a    
few years later1 like ,milton1 you will 
be eulogised and lauded to the  skies1  
if not by every one1 at any rate by the 
few men of noble minds4  ,perhaps the   
ashes of your body will be deposited in 
a magnificent tomb1  and your likeness  
reproduced in many different forms1 and 
passed about  from hand to hand4 ,men   
will also study your life and writings1 
and at  length the world will ring with 
your name4 ,always provided you are not 
hindered by evil fortune1 or even by the
 very excess of your genius1  from      
leaving undoubted testimonies of your   
merit2 instances are not  wanting of    
such unfortunates1 known only to myself 
and ,destiny4    ,soul4 ,o mother1 ,i   
care not if ,i be deprived of all       
knowledge1 so long  as ,i obtain what ,i
 most desire1 happiness4 ,and as for    
glory1 ,i know not  whether it be a good
 or evil thing1 but ,i do know that ,i  
shall only  value it in so far as it    
procures me happiness1 directly or      

indirectly4  ,now1 on your own showing1 
the excellence with which you have      
endowed  me1 though it may be fruitful  
of glory1 is also productive of the     
greatest unhappiness4 ,yet even this    
paltry glory ,i may not gain until  ,i  
am dead1 when ,i fail to see how ,i     
shall benefit by it4 ,and besides1      
there is the probability that this      
phantom glory1 the price of so much     
suffering1 may be obtained neither in   
life nor after death4    ,in short1 from
 what you yourself have said1 ,i        
conclude that far from  loving me with  
peculiar affection1 as you affirmed1 you
 bear me greater  malice than that of   
which ,i can be the victim1 either at   
the hands  of men or ,destiny4 ,why else
 should you have endowed me with this   
disastrous excellence1 about which you  
boast so much1 and which will be  the   
chief stumbling-block in the road to    
happiness1 the only thing for  which ,i 
care8    ,nature4 ,my child1 all men are
 destined to be unhappy1 as ,i have     

said1  without any fault of mine4 ,but  
in the midst of this universal misery1  
and amid the infinite vanity of all     
their pleasures and joys1 glory  is by  
most men considered to be the greatest  
good of life1 and the  worthiest object 
of ambition and fatigue4 ,therefore1 not
 hatred but a  feeling of especial      
kindliness1 has prompted me to assist   
you as far as  ,i could in your         
attainment of this glory4    ,soul4     
,tell me3 among the animals you         
mentioned1 are there any of less        
vitality and sensibility than men8      
,nature4 ,all are so1 in more or less   
degree1 beginning with plants4  ,man1   
being the most perfect of them all1 has 
greater life and power of  thought than 
all other living beings4    ,soul4 ,then
 if you love me1 place me in the most   
imperfect thing  existing1 or that being
 impossible1 at least deprive me of this
  terrible excellence1 and make me like 
the most stupid and senseless  soul you 
have ever created6    ,nature4 ,i can   

satisfy your second request1 and will do
 so1 since you  reject the immortality  
,i would have given you4    ,soul4 ,and 
instead of the immortality1 ,i beseech  
you to hasten my  death as much as      
possible4    ,nature4 ,i will consult   
,destiny about that4          ,,dialogue
 ,,between ,,the ,,earth ,,and ,,the    
,,moon      ,earth4 ,dear ,moon1 ,i know
 that you can speak and answer questions
 like  a human being1 for ,i have heard 
so from many of the poets4 ,besides1 our
  children say you have really a mouth1 
nose1 and eyes like every one  else1 and
 that they see them with their own eyes1
 which at their time  of life ought to  
be very sharp4 ,as for me1 no doubt you 
know that ,i am  a person2 indeed1 when 
,i was young1 ,i had a number of        
children2 so you  will not be surprised 
to hear me speak4 ,and the reason1 my   
fine ,moon1  why ,i have never uttered a
 word to you before1 although ,i have   
been  your neighbour for ,i don't know  
how many centuries1 is that ,i have been

  so occupied as to have no time for    
gossip4 ,but now my business is so      
trifling that it can look after itself4 
,i don't know what to do1 and am  ready 
to die of ennui4 ,so in future1 ,i hope 
we may often have some talk  together2  
and ,i should like to know all about    
your affairs1 if it does  not           
inconvenience you to recount them to me4
    ,moon4 ,be easy on that score4 ,may 
the ,fates never trouble me more  than  
you are likely to6 ,talk as much as you 
please1 and although1 as ,i  believe you
 know1 ,i am partial to silence1 ,i will
 willingly listen and  reply1 to oblige 
you4    ,earth4 ,do you hear the        
delightful sound made by the heavenly   
bodies  in motion8    ,moon4 ,to tell   
you the truth1 ,i hear nothing4         
,earth4 ,nor do ,i2 save only the       
whistling of the wind1 which blows  from
 my poles to the equator1 and from the  
equator to the poles1 and  which is far 
from musical4 ,but ,pythagoras asserts  
that the celestial  spheres make an     

incredibly sweet harmony1 and that you  
take part in the  concert1 and are the  
eighth chord of this universal lyre4 ,as
 for me1 ,i  am so deafened by my own   
noise that ,i hear nothing4    ,moon4 ,i
 also am doubtless deafened1 since ,i   
hear no more than you4  ,but it is news 
to me that ,i am a chord4    ,earth4    
,now let us change the subject4 ,tell   
me2 are you really  inhabited1 as       
thousands of ancient and modern         
philosophers affirm--from  ,orpheus to  
,de ,lalande8 ,in spite of all my       
efforts to prolong these  horns of mine1
 which men call mountains and hills1 and
 from the summits  of which ,i look at  
you in silence1 ,i have failed to       
discern a single  one of your           
inhabitants4 ,yet ,i am told that a     
certain ,david ,fabricius1  whose eyes  
were keener than those of ,lynceus1 at  
one time observed your  people extending
 their linen to be dried by the sun4    
,moon4 ,i know nothing about your horns4
 ,i will admit that ,i am  inhabited4   

,earth4 ,what colour are your men8      
,moon4 ,what men8    ,earth4 ,those that
 you contain4 ,did you not say you were 
inhabited8    ,moon4 ,yes1 what then8   
,earth4 ,does it not follow that all    
your inhabitants are animals8    ,moon4 
,neither animals nor men1 though ,i am  
really in ignorance as to  the nature of
 either the one or the other4 ,as for   
the men you speak of1  ,i have not an   
idea what you mean4    ,earth4 ,then    
what sort of creatures are yours8       
,moon4 ,they are of very many different 
kinds1 as unknown to you1 as  yours are 
to me4    ,earth4 ,this is so strange   
that if you yourself had not informed me
 of  it1 ,i would never have believed   
it4 ,were you ever conquered by any of  
your inhabitants8    ,moon4 ,not that ,i
 know of4 ,but how8 ,and for what       
reason8    ,earth4 ,through ambition and
 jealousy2 by means of diplomacy and    
arms4    ,moon4 ,i do not know what you 
mean by arms1 ambition1 and diplomacy4  
,indeed1 ,i understand nothing of what  

you say4    ,earth4 ,but surely if you  
do not understand the meaning of arms1  
you know something of war2 because1 not 
long ago1 a certain doctor  discovered  
through a telescope1 which is an        
instrument for seeing a  long distance1 
that you possessed a fine fortress with 
proper bastions4  ,now this is certain  
proof that your races are at any rate   
accustomed to  sieges and mural battles4
    ,moon4 ,pardon me1 ,mother ,earth1  
if ,i reply to you a little more at     
length than would be expected from one  
so subjugated as it seems ,i  am4 ,but  
in truth1 you appear to me more than    
vain to imagine that  everything in the 
world is conformable to your things2 as 
if ,nature  had no other intention than 
to copy you exactly in each of her      
creations4 ,i tell you ,i am inhabited1 
and you jump to the conclusion  that my 
inhabitants are men4 ,i assert that they
 are not1 and whilst  admitting that    
they may be another race of beings1 you 
endow them with  qualities and customs  

similar to those of your people4 ,you   
also speak  to me about the telescope of
 a certain doctor4 ,but it seems to me  
the  sight of these telescopes is about 
as good as that of your children1  who  
discover that ,i have eyes1 a mouth1 and
 a nose1 all of which ,i am  ignorant of
 possessing4    ,earth4 ,then it is not 
true that your provinces are intersected
 by  fine long roads1 and that you are  
cultivated2 which things are clearly    
discernible with a telescope from       
,germany4#a    ,moon4 ,i do not know    
whether ,i am cultivated1 and ,i have   
never  observed my roads4    ,earth4    
,dear ,moon1 you must know that ,i am of
 a coarse composition1  and very        
simple-minded4 ,no wonder therefore that
 men easily deceive  me4 ,but ,i can    
assure you that if your own inhabitants 
do not care  to conquer you1 you are by 
no means free from such danger2 for at  
different times many people down here   
have thought of subduing you1  and have 
even made great preparations for doing  

so4 ,some have tried  to reach you by   
going to my highest places1 standing on 
tiptoe1 and  stretching out their arms4 
,besides1 they have made a careful study
 of  your surface1 and drawn out maps of
 your countries4 ,they also know  the   
heights of your mountains1 and even     
their names4 ,i warn you of  these      
things out of pure goodwill1 so that you
 may be prepared for any  emergency4    
,now1 permit me to ask you another      
question or two4 ,are you much          
disturbed by the dogs that bay at you8  
,what do you think of those  people who 
show you another moon in a well8 ,are   
you masculine or  feminine#b--;because  
anciently there was a difference of     
opinion4 ,is  it true that the          
,arcadians came into the world before   
you8#c ,are your  women1 or whatever ,i 
should call them1 oviparous1 and did one
 of their  eggs fall down to us1 once   
upon a time8#d ,are you perforated like 
a bead1 as a modern philosopher         
believes8#e ,are you made of green      

cheese1 as some ,english say8 ,is it    
true that ,mahomet one fine night cut   
you in two like a water melon1 and that 
a good piece of your body fell  into his
 cloak8 ,why do you like to stay on the 
tops of minarets8 ,what  do you think of
 the feast of ,bairam8    ,moon4 ,you   
may as well go on4 ,i need not answer   
such questions1 nor  depart from my     
accustomed habit of silence4 ,if you    
wish to be so  frivolous1 and can find  
nothing else to talk to me about except 
matters  incomprehensible to me1 your   
people had better construct another     
planet  to rotate round them1 which they
 can design and populate as they        
please4 ,you seem unable to talk of     
anything but men1 and dogs1 and such    
things1 of which ,i know as much as of  
that one great being round which  ,i am 
told our sun turns4    ,earth4 ,truly   
the more ,i determine not to touch on   
personal matters1  the less ,i succeed  
in my resolution4 ,but for the future ,i
 will be more  careful4 ,tell me2 do you

 amuse yourself by drawing up my        
sea-water1 and  then letting it fall    
again8    ,moon4 ,it may be4 ,but if ,i 
have done this1 or other such things1 ,i
 am  unaware of it4 ,and you1 it seems  
to me1 do not consider what you effect  
here1 which is of so much the more      
importance as your size and strength    
are greater than mine4    ,earth4 ,i    
know nothing of these effects1 except   
that from time to  time ,i deprive you  
of the sun's light1 and myself of yours1
 and that ,i  illumine you during your  
nights1 as is sometimes evident to me4  
,but ,i am forgetting one thing1 which  
is the most important of all4 ,i  should
 like to know if ,ariosto is correct in 
saying that everything man  loses1 such 
as youth1 beauty1 health1 the vigour and
 money spent in  the pursuit of glory1  
in the instruction of children1 and     
founding or  promoting useful           
institutions1 flies to you2 so that you 
possess all  things pertaining to man1  
except folly1 which has never left      

mankind4  ,if this be true1 ,i reckon   
you ought to be so full as to have      
scarcely  any space unoccupied1         
especially since men have recently lost 
a great  many things 7such as           
patriotism1 virtue1 magnanimity1        
righteousness71  not merely in part1 or 
singly1 as in former times1 but         
completely1 and  without exception4 ,and
 certainly if you have not got these    
things1 ,i do  not know where else they 
can be4 ,but supposing you have them1 ,i
 wish  we could come to an agreement    
whereby you might soon return the lost  
things to me2 for ,i imagine you must be
 greatly encumbered1 especially  with   
common sense1 which ,i understand crowds
 you very much4 ,in return  for this1 ,i
 will see that men pay you annually a   
good sum of money4    ,moon4 ,men again6
 ,though folly1 as you say1 has not left
 your domains1  you wish nevertheless to
 make an utter fool of me1 by depriving 
me of  what reason ,i possess1 to supply
 the deficiency in your people4 ,but ,i 

do not know where this reason of yours  
is1 nor whether it can be found  in the 
universe4 ,i know well that it is not   
here1 any more than the  other things   
you mention4    ,earth4 ,at least1 you  
can tell me if your inhabitants are     
acquainted  with vices1 misdeeds1       
misfortunes1 suffering1 and old age2 in 
short1  evils8 ,do you understand these 
names8    ,moon4 ,yes1 ,i understand    
these well enough1 and not only the     
names4 ,i  am full of them1 instead of  
the other things4    ,earth4 ,which are 
the more numerous among your people1    
virtues or  vices8    ,moon4 ,vices1 by 
a long way4    ,earth4 ,does pleasure or
 pain predominate8    ,moon4 ,pain is   
infinitely more prevalent4    ,earth4   
,and your inhabitants1 are they mostly  
happy or unhappy8    ,moon4 ,so unhappy 
that ,i would not exchange my lot with  
the happiest  of them4    ,earth4 ,it is
 the same here4 ,i wonder why we differ 
so much in other  things1 yet agree in  
this4    ,moon4 ,i am also like you in  

shape1 ,i rotate like you1 and am       
illumined by the same sun4 ,it is no    
more wonderful that we should  resemble 
each other in these things1 than that we
 should possess  common failings2       
because evil is as common to all the    
planets of the  universe1 or at least of
 the solar system1 as rotundity1        
movement1 and  light4 ,and if you could 
speak loud enough for ,uranus or        
,saturn1 or  any other planet1 to hear  
you1 and were to ask them if they       
contained  unhappiness1 and whether     
pleasure or pain predominated1 each     
would  answer as ,i have done4 ,i speak 
from experience1 for ,i have already    
questioned ,venus and ,mercury1 to whom 
,i am now and then nearer than  you4 ,i 
have also asked certain comets which    
have passed by me2 they all  replied to 
the same effect4 ,i firmly believe even 
the sun and every  star would make the  
same response4    ,earth4 ,still ,i am  
very hopeful4 ,in future ,i trust men   
will permit me  to experience much      

happiness4    ,moon4 ,hope as much as   
you please4 ,i will answer for it you   
may hope  for ever4    ,earth4 ,ha6 ,did
 you hear that8 ,these men and animals  
of mine are  making an uproar4 ,it is   
night on the side from which ,i am      
speaking  to you1 and at first they were
 all asleep4 ,but1 thanks to our        
conversation1 they are now wide awake1  
and very frightened4    ,moon4 ,and     
here1 on the other side1 you see it is  
day4    ,earth4 ,yes4 ,now ,i do not    
wish to terrify my people1 or interrupt 
their sleep1 which is the best thing    
they possess2 so let us postpone        
conversation until another opportunity4 
,adieu1 and good-day to you4    ,moon4  
,adieu4 ,good-night4      ,footnote #a3 
,see ,german newspapers of ,march #ahbd1
 for particulars of  the discoveries    
attributed to ,gruithuisen4    ,footnote
 #b3 ,see ,macrobius1 ,saturnal3 lib4   
#c4 cap4 #h2 ,tertullian1  ,apolog41    
cap4 #ae4 ,the moon was also honoured as
 the god moon4 ,in the  ,german language

 moon is masculine4    ,footnote #c3    
,see ,menander1 lib4 #a4 cap4 #ae1 in   
,rhetor1 graec4 veter4    ,footnote #d3 
,athen3 lib4 #b4 ed4 ,casaub4 p4 #eg4   
,footnote #e3 ,antonio di ,ulloa4 ,see  
,carli1 ,lettere ,americane1 par4 #d4   
lett4 #g4 ,milan1 #aghd4          ,,the 
,,wager ,,of ,,prometheus4      ,in the 
year #hcc1bfe of the reign of ,jove1 the
 ,college of the ,muses  caused certain 
notices to be printed and affixed in the
 public places  of the city and suburbs 
of ,hypernephelus4 ,these notices       
contained an  invitation to all the     
gods1 great and small1 and the other    
inhabitants  of the city1 who had       
recently or anciently originated some   
praiseworthy  invention1 to make        
representation thereof1 either actually1
 or by model  or description1 to certain
 judges nominated by this ,college4     
,and1  regretting that its well-known   
poverty prevented it from displaying the
  liberality it would have liked to     
show1 the ,college promised to reward   

the one whose invention should be judged
 the finest or most useful1  with a     
crown of laurel4 ,in addition to the    
prize itself1 the ,college  would give  
the victor permission to wear the crown1
 day and night1 in  public and private  
life1 and both in the city and outside  
it2 he might  also be painted1          
sculptured1 or modelled in any manner or
 material  whatever1 with the emblem of 
victory on his brow4    ,not a few of   
the gods contested the prize1 simply to 
kill time1 a  thing as necessary for the
 citizens of ,hypernephelus1 as for the 
people of other towns4 ,they had no wish
 for the crown1 which was about  as     
valuable as a cotton night-cap2 and as  
for the glory1 if even men  despise it  
as soon as they become philosophers1 it 
may be imagined in  what esteem the     
phantom was held by the gods1 who are so
 much wiser  than the wisest of men1 if 
indeed they are not the sole possessors 
of  wisdom1 as ,pythagoras and ,plato   
affirm4    ,the prize was awarded with  

an unanimity hitherto unheard of in     
cases of  reward bestowed on the most   
meritorious4 ,neither were there any    
unfair  influences exercised1 such as   
favouritism1 underhand promises1 or     
artifice4 ,three competitors were       
chosen3 ,bacchus1 for the invention of  
wine2 ,minerva1 for that of oil1 with   
which the gods were daily wont to  be   
anointed after the bath2 and ,vulcan1   
for having made a copper pot of  an     
economical design1 by which cooking     
could be expeditiously conducted  with  
but little fire4 ,it was necessary to   
divide the prize into three  parts1 so  
there only remained a little sprig of   
laurel for each of the  victors4 ,but   
they all three declined the prize1      
whether in part or the  whole4 ,vulcan  
said1 that since he was obliged to stand
 the greater part  of his time at the   
forge fire1 perspiring and considerably 
exerting  himself1 the encumbrance on   
his brow would be a great annoyance to  
him2 added to which1 the laurel would   

run risk of being scorched or  burnt1 if
 some spark by chance were to fall on   
its dry leaves and set  it on fire4     
,minerva excused herself on the ground  
of having to wear a  helmet large       
enough1 as ,homer says1 to cover the    
united armies of a  hundred cities2     
consequently any increase of this weight
 would be very  inconvenient1 and out of
 the question4 ,bacchus did not wish to 
change  his mitre and chaplet of vine   
leaves for the laurel1 which1 however1  
he would willingly have accepted1 had he
 been allowed to put it up as  a sign   
outside his tavern2 but the ,muses      
declined to grant it for that  purpose4 
,finally1 the wreath remained in the    
common treasury of the  ,college4       
,none of the competitors for the prize  
envied the three successful  gods2 nor  
did they express vexation at the award1 
nor dispute the  verdict--with one      
exception1 ,prometheus4 ,this god       
brought to the  contest the clay model  
he had used in the formation of the     

first man4  ,attached to the model was  
some writing which explained the        
qualities  and office of the human race1
 his invention4 ,the chagrin displayed  
by ,prometheus in this matter caused no 
little astonishment2 since  all the     
other gods1 whether victors or          
vanquished1 had regarded the  whole     
affair as a joke4 ,but on further       
inquiry it transpired that what  he     
especially desired1 was not the honour1 
but rather the privilege  accompanying  
success4 ,some thought he meant to use  
the laurel as a  protection for his head
 against storms2 as it is said of       
,tiberius that  whenever he heard       
thunder1 he donned his crown1 esteeming 
the laurel  proof against thunderbolts4 
,but this suggestion was negatived by   
the  fact that the city of              
,hypernephelus never experienced either 
thunder  or lightning4 ,others1 more    
rationally1 affirmed that ,prometheus1  
owing  to age1 had begun to lose his    
hair1 and being greatly troubled at this

  misadventure1 as are many mortals in  
similar circumstances 7and either  not  
having read ,synesius' eulogy on        
baldness1 or being unconvinced  by it71 
wished1 like ,julius ,csar1 to hide the 
nakedness of his head  beneath the leafy
 diadem4    ,but to turn to facts4 ,one 
day ,prometheus1 talking with ,momus1   
bitterly  complained of the preference  
given to the wine1 oil1 and copper-pot1 
in comparison with the human race1 which
 he said was the finest  achievement of 
the immortals that the universe had ever
 seen4 ,and not  being able sufficiently
 to convince ,momus1 who gave various   
reasons  against this assertion1 they   
made a wager on the subject4 ,prometheus
  proposed that they should descend     
together to the earth1 and alighting  by
 chance in the first place they should  
discover inhabited by man in  each of   
the five parts of the world1 they might 
find out whether or  not there were in  
all or most of these parts conclusive   
evidence that  man is the most perfect  

creature of the universe4 ,momus        
accepted the  wager2 and having settled 
the amount1 they began without delay to 
descend towards the earth4 ,first of all
 they directed themselves to the  ,new  
,world1 which1 from its name1 and the   
fact that as yet none of the  immortals 
had set foot in it1 greatly excited     
their curiosity4    ,they touched ground
 towards the north of ,popuyan1 not far 
from the  river ,cauca1 in a place which
 showed many signs of human habitation4 
,there were traces of cultivation1 level
 roads broken and impassable  in places1
 trees cut and strewn about1 appearances
 of what might  be graves1 and here and 
there human bones were scattered4 ,but  
the  celestials could neither hear the  
voice1 nor see the shadow of a living   
man1 though they listened acutely1 and  
looked all around them4 ,they           
proceeded1 walking and flying1 for the  
distance of many miles1 passing         
mountains and rivers1 and finding       
everywhere the same traces of human     

habitation1 and the same solitude4      
,how is it these countries are now      
deserted1 said ,momus to ,prometheus1   
though they were evidently once         
inhabited8    ,prometheus mentioned the 
inundations of the sea1 earthquakes1    
storms1  and heavy rains1 which he knew 
were ordinary occurrences in the        
tropics4 ,indeed1 as if in confirmation 
of his words1 they could  distinctly    
hear in the neighbouring forests the    
incessant patter of  rain-drops falling 
from the branches of trees agitated by  
the wind4    ,but ,momus was unable to  
understand how that locality could be   
affected  by inundations of the sea1    
which was so distant as not to be       
visible on  any side4 ,still less could 
he comprehend why the earthquakes1      
storms1  and rains should have destroyed
 the human beings of the country1       
sparing however1 the jaguars1 apes1     
ants1 eagles1 parrots1 and a  hundred   
other kinds of animals and birds which  
surrounded them4    ,at length1         

descending into an immense valley1 they 
discovered a little  cluster of houses1 
or wooden cabins1 covered with palm     
leaves1 and  environed on all sides by a
 fence like a stockade4 ,before one of  
these  cabins1 many persons1 some       
standing1 some sitting1 were gathered   
round  an earthen pot suspended over a  
large fire4    ,the two celestials1     
having taken human form1 drew near1 and 
,prometheus1  courteously saluting them 
all1 turned to the one who seemed to be 
their  chief1 and asked him what they   
were doing4    ,savage4 ,eating1 as you 
see4    ,prom4 ,what savoury food have  
you got8    ,savage4 ,only a little bit 
of meat4    ,prom4 ,of a domestic1 or   
wild animal8    ,savage4 ,domestic1 in  
truth1 since it is my own son4    ,prom4
 ,what6 ,had you then1 like ,pasipha1 a 
calf for your son8    ,savage4 ,not a   
calf1 but a child like every one else4  
,prom4 ,do you mean what you say8 ,is it
 your own flesh and blood that  you are 
eating8    ,savage4 ,my own8 ,no4 ,but  

certainly that of my son4 ,why else did 
,i  bring him into the world1 and       
nourish him8    ,prom4 ,what6 ,to eat   
him8    ,savage4 ,why not8 and ,i will  
also eat his mother when she can have no
  more children4    ,momus4 ,as one eats
 the hen after her eggs4    ,savage4    
,and ,i will likewise eat my other      
women1 when they can no  longer have    
children4 ,and why also should ,i keep  
these slaves of mine  alive1 if it were 
not that from time to time they give me 
children to  eat8 ,but when they are    
old1 ,i will eat them all one after the 
other1 if  ,i live4#a    ,prom4 ,tell   
me1 do these slaves belong to your tribe
 or to another8    ,savage4 ,another4   
,prom4 ,far from here8    ,savage4 ,a   
very long way4 ,a river divides their   
huts from ours4 ,and  pointing with his 
finger to a hillock1 he added3 ,they    
used to live  there1 but our people have
 destroyed their dwellings4    ,by this 
time it seemed to ,prometheus that many 
of the savages were  standing looking at

 him with the sort of appreciative gaze 
that a cat  gives to a mouse4 ,so1 to   
avoid being eaten by his own            
manufactures1 he  rose suddenly on the  
wing1 and ,momus followed his example4  
,and such  was their fright that in     
setting out they unconsciously behaved  
as did  the ,harpies towards the        
,trojans when at meat4 ,but the         
cannibals1 more  hungry1 or less dainty1
 than the companions of neas1 continued 
their  horrid repast4    ,prometheus1   
very dissatisfied with the ,new ,world1 
turned immediately  towards ,asia1 the  
older one4 ,having traversed almost in  
an instant the  space which lies between
 the ,east and ,west ,indies1 they both 
descended  near ,agra1 in a field where 
they saw a number of people4 ,these were
  all gathered round a funeral pyre of  
wood1 by which men with torches  were   
standing1 ready to set it on fire2 and  
on a platform was a young  woman very   
sumptuously attired1 and wearing a      
variety of barbaric  adornments1 who1   

dancing and shouting1 displayed signs of
 the liveliest  joy4 ,prometheus1 seeing
 her1 imagined that a second ,lucretia  
or  ,virginia1 or some imitator of the  
children of ,erectheus1 of ,iphigenia1  
,codrus1 ,menecius1 ,curtius1 or        
,decius1 was about to sacrifice herself 
voluntarily on behalf of her country1 in
 obedience to the decree of  some       
oracle4 ,learning however that the woman
 was about to die because  her husband  
was dead1 he supposed that1 like        
,alcestis1 she wished at  the cost of   
her own life to reanimate her husband4  
,but1 when they  informed him that she  
was only induced to burn herself because
 it was  customary for widows of her    
caste to do so1 and that she had always 
hated her husband1 that she was drunk1  
and that the dead man1 instead  of being
 resuscitated1 was to be burnt in the   
same fire1 he abruptly  turned his back 
on the spectacle1 and set out for       
,europe4 ,on their way  thither1        
,prometheus and his companion held the  

following conversation4    ,momus4 ,did 
you think1 when at so great a hazard you
 stole fire from  heaven to give to men1
 that some of them would make use of it 
to cook  one another in pots1 and others
 voluntarily to burn themselves8        
,prom4 ,no1 indeed6 ,but consider1 dear 
,momus1 that the men we have  hitherto  
seen are barbarians2 and one must not   
judge of human nature  from barbarians1 
but rather from civilised people1 to    
whom we are now  going4 ,i have a strong
 conviction that among these latter we  
shall see  things1 and hear words1 which
 will astonish as much as delight you4  
,momus4 ,i for my part do not see1 if   
men are the most perfect  race of the   
universe1 why they need be civilised in 
order not to  burn themselves1 or eat   
their own children4 ,other animals are  
all  uncivilised1 and yet none of them  
deliberately burn themselves1  except   
the phoenix1 which is fabulous2 rarely  
they eat their own  kind2 and much more 
rarely make food of their own offspring 

by any  chance whatever2 neither do they
 specially give birth to them for  that 
purpose4 ,i also understand that of the 
five divisions of the  world1 only the  
smallest possesses even incompletely the
 civilisation  that you praise4 ,to this
 may be added minute portions of other  
parts  of the world4 ,and you yourself  
will not venture to assert that the     
civilisation of the present day is such 
that the men of ,paris or  ,philadelphia
 have reached the highest possible state
 of perfection4  ,yet1 to enable them to
 attain to their present imperfect state
 of  civilisation1 how much time has had
 to elapse8 ,even as many years as  the 
world can number from its origin to the 
existing age4 ,again1 almost  all the   
inventions which have been of greatest  
use or importance in the  advancement of
 civilisation have originated rather    
fortuitously than  rationally4 ,hence1  
human civilisation is a work of chance  
rather than  nature1 and where          
opportunity has been lacking1 the people

 are still  barbarians1 though on the   
same level of age as civilised people4  
,consequently ,i make the following     
deductions3 that man in the savage      
state is many degrees inferior to every 
other animal2 that civilisation  as     
compared with barbarism is only         
possessed even in the present day  by a 
small portion of the human race2 that   
these privileged people  have only      
reached their existing state of culture 
after the lapse of  many ages1 and more 
by chance than anything else2 and       
finally1 that  the present state of     
civilisation is imperfect4 ,consider1   
therefore1  whether your opinion about  
the human race would not be better      
expressed  in saying1 that it is chief  
among races1 but supreme rather in      
imperfection than perfection4 ,it does  
not affect the case that men            
themselves1 in talking and reasoning1   
continually confuse perfection  and     
imperfection1 arguing as they do from   
certain preconceived notions1  which    

they take for palpable truths4 ,it is   
certain that the other  races of        
creatures were each from the very       
beginning in a state of  perfection4    
,and1 since it is clear that man in a   
savage state compares  unfavourably with
 other animals1 ,i do not understand how
 beings1  naturally the most imperfect  
among the races1 as it seems men are1   
come  to be esteemed superior to all    
others4    ,added to which1 human       
civilisation1 so difficult to acquire1  
and almost  impossible to perfect1 is   
not so immutable that it cannot relapse4
  ,in fact1 we find it has done so      
several times1 among people who once    
possessed a high degree of culture4     
,in conclusion1 ,i think your brother   
,epimetheus would have gained the  prize
 before you1 had he brought to the      
judges his model of the first  ass1 or  
first frog4 ,i will1 however1 quite     
agree with you as to the  perfection of 
man1 if you on your part will admit that
 his excellence  is of the kind         

attributed to the world by ,plotinus4   
,this philosopher  says the world in    
itself is supremely perfect1 but        
containing as it  does every conceivable
 evil1 it is in reality as bad as can   
be4 ,from  the same point of view1 ,i   
might perhaps agree with ,leibnitz1 that
 the  present world is the best of all  
possible worlds4    ,there can be no    
doubt that ,prometheus had prepared a   
concise and  crushing reply to all this 
reasoning2 but it is very certain he did
 not  give it expression1 for just then 
they found themselves over the city  of 
,london4 ,the gods descended1 and seeing
 a great many people rushing  to the    
door of a private house1 they mixed with
 the crowd1 and entered  the building4  
,within1 they found a dead man1 who had 
been shot in the  breast1 laid out on a 
bed4 ,he had a pistol clenched in his   
right hand1  and by his side lay two    
children1 also dead4 ,there were several
 people  of the house in the room1 who  
were being questioned by magistrates1   

while an official wrote down their      
replies4    ,prom4 ,who are these       
unfortunate beings8    ,servant4 ,my    
master and his children4    ,prom4 ,who 
has killed them8    ,servant4 ,my master
 himself4    ,prom4 ,what6 ,do you mean 
to say he killed his children and       
himself8    ,servant4 ,yes4    ,prom4   
,alas6 ,why did he do that8 ,surely some
 great misfortune must  have befallen   
him4    ,servant4 ,none that ,i know of4
    ,prom4 ,perhaps he was poor1 or     
despised by every one1 unfortunate in   
love1 or in disgrace at court4          
,servant4 ,on the contrary1 he was very 
rich1 and ,i believe universally        
esteemed4 ,he cared nothing about love1 
and was in high favour at court4        
,prom4 ,then why has he done this thing8
    ,servant4 ,he was weary of life1--so
 he says in the writing he has left4    
,prom4 ,what are these judges doing8    
,servant4 ,taking evidence as to whether
 my master was out of his mind  or not4 
,unless he is proved to have been       

insane1 his goods fall to the  crown by 
law2 and really there is nothing to     
prevent their so doing4    ,prom4 ,but  
had he no friend or relative to whom he 
could entrust his  children instead of  
killing them8    ,servant4 ,yes1 he had2
 and especially one friend1 to whom he  
has  commended his dog4#b    ,momus was 
about to congratulate ,prometheus on the
 good effects of  civilisation1 and the 
happiness that seemed to be inseparable 
from  human life4 ,he wished also to    
remind him that no animal except man    
voluntarily killed itself1 or was       
impelled by feelings of despair to  take
 the life of its own offspring4 ,but    
,prometheus anticipated him1 and  paid  
the bet at once1 without visiting the   
two remaining parts of the  world4      
,footnote #a3 ,see ,robertson's ,hist4  
of ,america1 ,book ,,vi4    ,footnote   
#b3 ,a fact4          ,,dialogue        
,,between ,a ,,natural ,,philosopher    
,,and ,a ,,metaphysician      ,natural  
,philosopher4 ,eureka6 ,eureka6         

,metaphysician4 ,what is it8 ,what have 
you found8    ,nat4 ,phil4 ,the art of  
long life4#a    ,met4 ,and the book that
 you carry8    ,nat4 ,phil4 ,explains my
 theory4 ,this invention of mine will   
give me  eternal life4 ,others may live 
long1 but ,i shall live for ever4 ,i    
mean  that ,i shall acquire immortal    
fame4    ,met4 ,follow my advice4 ,get a
 leaden casket2 enclose therein your    
book2 bury it2 and leave in your will   
directions where it may be found1  with 
instructions to your heirs not to exhume
 the book until they shall  have        
discovered the art of living a happy    
life4    ,nat4 ,phil4 ,and meanwhile8   
,met4 ,meanwhile your invention will be 
good for nothing4 ,it were far  better  
if it taught the art of living briefly4 
,nat4 ,phil4 ,that has already been     
known a long time4 ,the discovery  was  
not a difficult one4 ,met4 ,at any rate 
,i prefer it to yours4 ,nat  ,phil4     
,why8    ,met4 ,because if life be not  
happy1 as hitherto it has not been1 it  

were better to endure a short term of it
 than a long one4    ,nat4 ,phil4 ,no1  
no4 ,i differ from you4 ,life is a good 
in itself1 and  is naturally desired and
 loved by every one4    ,met4 ,so men   
think4 ,but they are deceived4          
,similarly people deceive  themselves in
 thinking that colours are attributes of
 the objects  coloured2 whereas really  
they are not qualities of objects1 but  
of light4 ,i assert that man loves and  
desires nothing but his own  happiness4 
,he therefore loves his life only       
inasmuch as he esteems it  the          
instrument or subject of his happiness4 
,hence it is happiness that  he always  
loves1 and not life2 although he very   
often attributes to the  one the        
affection he has for the other4 ,it is  
true that this illusion  and that       
relating to colours are both natural4   
,but as a proof that the  love of life  
in men is unnatural1 or rather          
unnecessary1 think of the  many people  
that in olden times preferred to die    

rather than live4  ,in our own time too 
many people often wish for death1 and   
some kill  themselves4 ,now such things 
could not occur if man naturally loved  
life  itself4 ,the love of happiness1 on
 the contrary1 is innate in every       
living being2 indeed the world would    
perish before they ceased loving  and   
seeking it in every possible form4 ,and 
as for your assertion that  life in     
itself is a good thing1 ,i challenge you
 to prove your words by  any arguments  
you please1 whether of physics or       
metaphysics4 ,personally  ,i am of      
opinion that a happy life is undoubtedly
 a good thing4 ,but this  is because of 
the happiness1 not the life4 ,an unhappy
 life is therefore  an evil4 ,and since 
it is ordained that human life should be
 inseparable  from unhappiness1 ,i leave
 you to draw your own conclusions4      
,nat4 ,phil4 ,let us drop the subject1  
if you please2 it is too  melancholy4   
,answer me one question candidly1 and   
without such  subtleties4 ,if man had   

the power to live for ever1 ,i mean in  
this  life and not after death1 do you  
think he would be happy8    ,met4 ,allow
 me to answer you by a fable4 ,moreover1
 as ,i have never  tasted immortality1  
,i cannot reply to you from experience4 
,besides1 ,i  have never by any chance  
met an immortal1 the very existence of  
whom  is a mere matter of legend4 ,if   
,cagliostro were alive1 he could perhaps
  enlighten you1 since he was said to   
have lived for several centuries4  ,but 
he is now dead1 like his contemporaries4
    ,to return to the fable4 ,the wise  
,chiro1 who was a god1 in time became   
so wearied of his life1 that he asked   
permission from ,jove to die4  ,this was
 granted to him2 so he died4#b ,if      
immortality wrought such  an effect on  
the gods1 how would it be with men8 ,the
 ,hyperboreans1 an  unknown but famous  
people1 whose country is inaccessible by
 sea or  land1 were1 it is said1 rich in
 all manner of things1 and possessed  a 
race of asses of peculiar beauty1 which 

they used to offer as  sacrifices4 ,they
 had the power1 unless ,i am mistaken1  
of living for  ever1 and knew nothing of
 fatigues1 cares1 wars1 discords1 or    
crimes4  ,yet we learn that after       
several thousand years of life1 they all
 killed  themselves by jumping from a   
certain rock into the sea1 where they   
were  drowned4#c ,here is another       
legend4 ,the brothers ,biton and        
,cleobus1  at a festival1 when the mules
 were not ready1 attached themselves to 
the chariot of their mother1 who was a  
priestess of ,juno1 and drew her  to the
 temple4 ,touched by their devotion1 the
 priestess asked ,juno to  reward her   
sons for their piety by the greatest    
gift possible for men  to receive4 ,the 
goddess caused them both to die         
peacefully within an  hour1 instead of  
giving them immortality1 as they had    
expected4    ,the same happened to      
,agamede and ,trophonius4 ,when these   
two men had  finished the temple of     
,delphi1 they begged ,apollo to reward  

them4 ,the  god asked them to wait seven
 days1 at the end of which time he would
  do so4 ,on the seventh night he sent  
them a sweet sleep from which they  have
 never awakened4 ,they are so satisfied 
with their recompense that  they have   
asked nothing more4    ,on the subject  
of legends1 here is one which introduces
 a question ,i  would have you answer4  
,i know that by you and your colleagues 
human  life is generally considered to  
be1 as a rule1 of an uniformly average  
duration3 this in all countries and     
under all climates4 ,but ,pliny  relates
 that the men of some parts of ,india   
and ,ethiopia do not exceed  the age of 
forty years4 ,they who die at this age  
are considered very  old4 ,their        
children marry at seven years of age3   
and this statement  is verified by the  
custom in ,guinea1 the ,deccan1 and     
elsewhere in the  torrid zone4 ,now1    
regarding it as true that these people  
do not live  more than forty years 7and 
this as a natural limit1 and not due to 

artificial circumstances71 ,i ask you   
whether you imagine their lot  ought to 
be considered more or less happy than   
that of others8    ,nat4 ,phil4         
,undoubtedly1 more miserable1 since they
 die so soon4    ,met4 ,i am of the     
contrary opinion for the very same      
reason4 ,but that  does not matter4     
,give me your attention for a moment4 ,i
 deny that  life itself1 i4e41 the mere 
sensation of existence1 has anything    
pleasurable or desirable in its nature4 
,but we all wish for the other  thing1  
also called life2 ,i mean strength1 and 
numerous sensations4  ,thus1 all        
activity1 and every strong and lively   
passion1 provided it  be neither        
disagreeable nor painful1 pleases us    
simply because it is  strong and lively1
 although it possess no other           
pleasurable attributes4    ,now these   
men1 whose life normally lasts only     
forty years1 that is1  half the time    
granted by nature to other men1 would   
experience every  moment an intensity of

 life1 twice as strong as ours1 because 
their  growth1 maturity1 and decline are
 accomplished twice as rapidly as with  
us4 ,their energy of life therefore     
ought to be twice as intense as ours  at
 every moment of their existence4 ,and  
to this greater intensity there  must   
correspond a more lively activity of the
 will1 more vivacity and  animation4    
,thus they experience in less time the  
same quantity of life  as we have4 ,and 
the fewer years that these favoured     
people spend on  the earth are so well  
filled that there is no sensible vacuum2
 whereas  this same quantity of life is 
insufficient to vivify a term twice as  
long4 ,their actions and sensations1    
diffused over so limited a space1  can  
duly occupy all their existence2 but our
 longer life is constantly  divided by  
protracted intervals devoid of all      
activity and lively  passion4 ,and since
 existence itself is in no sense        
desirable1 but  only in so far as it is 
happy2 and since good or evil fortune is

 not  measurable by the number of our   
days2 ,i conclude that the life of these
  people1 though shorter than ours1 is  
much the richer in pleasures1 or  what  
are so called4 ,their life must then be 
preferable to ours1 or  even to that of 
the earliest kings of ,assyria1 ,egypt1 
,china1 ,india1  and other countries1   
who are said to have lived thousands of 
years4 ,so  that1 far from being        
desirous of immortality1 ,i am content  
to leave it  to fishes1 which are by    
,leeuwenhoek believed to be immortal1   
provided  they are neither eaten by us  
nor their fellows4 ,instead of delaying 
the  development of the body1 in order  
to lengthen life1 as ,maupertuis#d      
proposed1 ,i would rather accelerate it 
until the duration of our life  was as  
short as that of the insects called     
ephemerals2 which insects1  although the
 most aged does not live beyond a single
 day1 nevertheless  preside over three  
generations before they die4 ,if it were
 so1 then  there would at least be no   

time for ennui4    ,what do you think of
 my reasoning8    ,nat4 ,phil4 ,it does 
not persuade me4 ,i know that you love  
metaphysics1  whereas ,i for my part    
hold to physics4 ,to your subtleties1 ,i
 oppose  simple common sense1 which is  
sufficient for me4 ,thus1 ,i venture to 
assert1 without appealing to the        
microscope1 that life is better than    
death4 ,judging between the two1 ,i     
would give the apple to the former1     
without troubling them to strip for the 
contest4    ,met4 ,and ,i would do the  
same4 ,but when ,i call to mind the     
custom of  those barbarians1 who1 for   
every unhappy day of their lives1 used  
to  throw a black stone into a quiver1  
and for every happy day a white one1  ,i
 cannot help thinking how few white     
stones compared to the black ones  would
 be found therein on the death of the   
proprietor of the quiver4  ,personally1 
,i should like to have now all the      
stones representing the  days of life   
yet remaining to me1 and permission to  

separate them1  throwing away all-the   
black ones and retaining only those that
 were  white2 even though the number of 
the latter was exceedingly small1 and   
their colour a doubtful white4    ,nat4 
,phil4 ,many people1 on the contrary1   
would be glad to increase  the number of
 their black stones1 even though they   
were blacker than  they naturally would 
be2 because they always1 in their minds1
 dread the  last as the blackest of all4
 ,and such people1 of whom ,i am one1   
will  really be able to add many stones 
to their normal quantity1 if they       
follow out the instructions contained in
 my book4    ,met4 ,every one thinks and
 works in his own way4 ,death also will 
not  fail to do the same4 ,but if you   
wish1 in prolonging man's life2 really  
to be of service to him1 discover an art
 to increase the number and  strength of
 sensations1 and their effects4 ,this   
would be a genuine  augmentation of     
human life1 for it would fill up those  
long intervals  of time1 during which we

 vegetate rather than live4 ,you could  
then  boast of having truly prolonged   
human life2 and without having sought   
after the impossible1 or used violence  
to natural laws2 rather1 by  having     
strengthened them4 ,for does it not seem
 as though the ancients  were more full 
of life than we are1 in spite of the    
many and great  dangers by which they   
were surrounded1 and which generally    
shortened  their existence8    ,you will
 thus render a real service to man1     
whose life is1 ,i will not  say more    
happy1 but certainly less unhappy1 when 
it is better occupied  and more         
violently agitated1 without pain or     
discomfort4 ,when1 on the  other hand1  
existence is so full of idleness and    
ennui as to be justly  termed empty1 the
 saying of ,pyrrhus1 there is no        
difference between  life and death1 is  
literally realised4 ,were this saying   
true1 ,i should  be in no slight terror 
of death4    ,but finally1 unless life  
be active and vigorous1 it is not true  

life1  and death is far preferable to   
it4      ,footnote #a3 ,see ,instruction
 in the ,art of ,long ,life1 by         
,hufeland4    ,footnote #b3 ,see        
,lucian1 ,dial4 ,menip4 and ,chiro4     
,footnote #c3 ,see ,pindar1 ,strabo1 and
 ,pliny4    ,footnote #d3 ,see ,lettres 
,philosophiques3 let4 #aa4              
,,dialogue ,,between ,,tasso ,,and ,,his
 ,,familiar ,,spirit#a      ,spirit4    
,ah1 ,torquato4 ,how are you8    ,tasso4
 ,as well as it is possible to be1 when 
in prison1 and up to the  neck in       
misfortunes4    ,spirit4 ,courage6      
,after supper is not the time to be     
sorrowful4 ,cheer  up1 and let us laugh 
at your griefs4    ,tasso4 ,i am little 
inclined for that4 ,but somehow your    
presence and  conversation always do me 
good4 ,come and sit down by me4         
,spirit4 ,how can ,i sit8 ,such a thing 
is not easy for a spirit4 ,but  what    
does it matter8 ,consider that ,i am    
seated4    ,tasso4 ,oh1 that ,i could   
see my ,leonora again6 ,whenever ,i     

think of  her1 ,i feel a thrill of joy  
that reaches from the crown of my head  
to  the extremity of my feet1 and all my
 nerves and veins are pervaded with  it4
 ,my mind1 too1 becomes inflamed with   
certain imaginings and longings  that   
seem for the time to transform me4 ,i   
cannot think that ,i am the  ,torquato  
who has experienced so much misfortune1 
and ,i often mourn  for myself as though
 ,i were dead4 ,truly1 it would seem    
that worldly  friction and suffering are
 wont to overwhelm and lethargise our   
first  nature within each of us4 ,this  
from time to time awakens for a brief   
space1 but less frequently as we grow   
older1 when it always withdraws1  and   
falls into an increasingly sound sleep4 
,finally1 it dies1 although  our life   
still continues4 ,in short1 ,i marvel   
how the thought of a woman  should have 
sufficient power to rejuvenate the mind1
 and make it forget  so many troubles4  
,had ,i not lost all hope of seeing     
,leonora again1 ,i  could almost believe

 ,i might still succeed in being happy4 
,spirit4 ,which do you consider the more
 delightful1 to see the dear  woman1 or 
to think of her8    ,tasso4 ,i do not   
know4 ,it is true when near me she      
seemed only a  woman2 at a distance1    
however1 she was like a goddess4        
,spirit4 ,these goddesses are so amiable
 that when one approaches you1  she     
instantaneously puts off her divinity1  
and pockets her halo of  greatness for  
fear of dazzling the mortal to whom she 
appears4    ,tasso4 ,there is only too  
much truth in what you say4 ,but do you 
not  think it is a great failing in     
women that they prove really to be so   
very different from what we imagine8    
,spirit4 ,i scarcely think it is their  
fault that they are1 like us1  made of  
flesh and blood1 instead of ambrosia and
 nectar4 ,what in the  world has a      
thousandth part of the perfection with  
which your fancy  endows women8 ,it     
surprises me that you are not astonished
 to find that  men are men1 that is1    

creatures of little merit and           
amiability1 since  you cannot understand
 why women are not really angels4       
,tasso4 ,in spite of all this1 ,i am    
dying to see her again4    ,spirit4     
,compose yourself4 ,this very night you 
shall dream of her4 ,i  will lead her to
 you1 beautiful as youth1 and so kindly 
disposed that  you will be encouraged to
 speak to her much more freely and      
readily  than in former times4 ,you will
 be induced at length to take her by the
  hand1 and she1 looking intently at    
you1 will surfeit your soul with        
sweetness4 ,and to-morrow1 whenever you 
think of the dream1 your heart  will    
overflow with affection4    ,tasso4     
,what a consolation6 ,a dream instead of
 the truth4    ,spirit4 ,what is truth8 
,tasso4 ,i am as ignorant on the subject
 as ,pilate was4    ,spirit4 ,well1 ,i  
will tell you4 ,between truth or        
reality1 and a dream  there is this     
difference--the latter is much the finer
 thing of the two4    ,tasso4 ,what6    

,the pleasure of a dream worth more than
 a real pleasure8    ,spirit4 ,it is4   
,as an instance1 ,i know a man who      
studiously avoids  meeting his          
sweetheart the following day after she  
has appeared to  him in a dream4 ,he    
knows full well that he would not find  
in her all  the charms with which she   
was endowed in the dream1 and that      
reality1  dispelling the illusion1 would
 deprive him of the pleasure he felt4   
,the ancients too1 who were much more   
diligent and skilful in their  search   
after all the enjoyments possible for   
man to have1 did wisely  in endeavouring
 by various means to realise the        
sweetness and pleasure  of dreams4      
,pythagoras also was right when he      
forbad the eating of  beans for supper2 
these vegetables producing a dreamless  
or troubled  sleep4#b ,i could also find
 excuse for those superstitious people  
who  were wont1 before going to bed1 to 
invoke the aid of ,mercury1 the         
president of dreams4 ,they offered      

sacrifice to him that he might grant    
them happy dreams1 and used to keep an  
image of the god at the foot  of their  
bed4 ,thus it was that being unable to  
procure any happiness  during the day1  
people sought it in the night-time4 ,i  
am of opinion  that they were in a      
measure successful1 and that ,mercury   
paid more  attention to their prayers   
than was the custom of the other gods4  
,tasso4 ,but1 since men live for nothing
 but pleasure1 whether of mind  or body1
 if this pleasure can only be found when
 we dream1 it follows  that we live for 
no other purpose but to dream4 ,now ,i  
really cannot  admit that4    ,spirit4  
,you already admit it1 inasmuch as you  
live1 and are willing  to live4 ,but    
what is pleasure8    ,tasso4 ,my        
acquaintance with it is too slight to   
enable me to answer  you4    ,spirit4   
,no one has any real acquaintance with  
it1 because pleasure  is not a reality1 
but a conception4 ,it is a desire1 not a
 fact4 ,a  sentiment1 imagined not      

experienced2 or1 better1 it is a        
conception1  and not a sentiment at all4
 ,do you not perceive that even in the  
very  moment of enjoyment1 however      
ardently it may have been longed for or 
painfully acquired1 your mind1 not      
deriving complete satisfaction from  the
 happiness1 anticipates at some future  
time a greater and more  complete       
enjoyment8 ,it is expectation that      
constitutes pleasure4 ,thus1  you never 
weary of placing reliance on some       
pleasure of the future1  which melts    
away just when you expect to enjoy it4  
,the truth is1 you  possess nothing but 
the hope of a more complete enjoyment at
 some  other time2 and the satisfaction 
of imagining that you have had some     
enjoyment1 and of talking about it to   
others1 less because you are  vain than 
to persuade yourself that the illusion  
is a reality4 ,hence1  everyone that    
consents to live makes this fugitive    
dream his aim in  life4 ,he believes in 
the reality of past and future          

enjoyment1 both of  which beliefs are   
false and fanciful4    ,tasso4 ,then is 
it impossible for a man to believe that 
he is actually  happy8    ,spirit4 ,if  
such a belief were possible1 his        
happiness would be  genuine4 ,but tell  
me3 do you ever remember having been    
able at any  moment in your life to say 
sincerely1 ,i am happy8 ,doubtless you  
have  daily been able to say1 and have  
said in all sincerity1 ,i shall be      
happy2 and often too1 though less       
sincerely1 ,i have been happy4  ,thus1  
pleasure is always either a thing of the
 past1 or the future1  never the        
present4    ,tasso4 ,you may as well say
 it is non-existent4    ,spirit4 ,so it 
seems4    ,tasso4 ,even in dreams8      
,spirit4 ,even in dreams1 considering   
pleasure in its true sense4    ,tasso4  
,and yet pleasure is the sole object and
 aim of life6 ,by the  term pleasure ,i 
mean the happiness which ought to be a  
consequence of  pleasure4    ,spirit4   
,assuredly4    ,tasso4 ,then our life1  

being deprived of its real aim1 must    
always be  imperfect1 and existence     
itself unnatural4    ,spirit4 ,perhaps4 
,tasso4 ,there is no perhaps in the     
matter4 ,but why is it that we live8  ,i
 mean1 why do we consent to live8       
,spirit4 ,how should ,i know8 ,you      
yourselves ought to know better than ,i4
    ,tasso4 ,i assure you ,i do not     
know4    ,spirit4 ,ask some one wiser   
than yourself4 ,perhaps he may be able  
to  satisfy you4    ,tasso4 ,i will do  
so4 ,but certainly1 the life that ,i    
lead is an  unnatural state1 because    
apart from my sufferings1 ennui alone   
murders  me4    ,spirit4 ,what is ennui8
    ,tasso4 ,as to this1 ,i can answer  
from experience4 ,ennui seems to me of  
the nature of atmosphere1 which fills up
 the spaces between material  bodies1   
and also the voids in the bodies        
themselves4 ,whenever a body            
disappears1 and is not replaced by      
another1 air fills up the gap           
immediately4 ,so too1 in human life1 the

 intervals between pleasures  and pains 
are occupied by ennui4 ,and since in the
 material world1  according to the      
,peripatetics1 there can be no vacuum1  
so also in our  life there is none1 save
 when for some cause or other the mind  
loses  its power of thought4 ,at all    
other times the mind1 considered as a   
separate identity from the body1 is     
occupied with some sentiment4 ,if  void 
of pleasure or pain1 it is full of      
ennui2 for this last is also a          
sentiment like pleasure and pain4       
,spirit4 ,and1 since all your pleasures 
are like cobwebs1 exceedingly  fragile1 
thin and transparent1 ennui penetrates  
their tissue1 and  saturates them1 just 
as air penetrates the webs4 ,i believe  
ennui is  really nothing but the desire 
of happiness1 without the illusion of   
pleasure and the suffering of pain4     
,this desire1 we have said1 is never    
completely satisfied1 since true        
pleasure does not exist4 ,so that human 
life may be said to be interwoven with  

pain and ennui1 and one of these        
sentiments disappears only to give place
 to the other4 ,this is the fate  of all
 men1 and not of yourself alone4        
,tasso4 ,what remedy is there for ennui8
    ,spirit4 ,sleep1 opium1 and pain4   
,the last is the best of the three1     
because he who suffers never experiences
 ennui4    ,tasso4 ,i would rather      
submit to ennui for the rest of my life1
 than  take such medicine4 ,but its     
force and strength may be diminished by 
action1 work1 and even other sentiments2
 though these do not entirely  free us  
from ennui1 since they are unable to    
give us real pleasure4  ,here in prison 
however1 deprived of human society1     
without even the  means of writing1     
reduced for an amusement to counting the
 ticks of the  clock1 looking at the    
beams1 cracks1 and nails of the ceiling1
 thinking  about the pavement stones1   
and watching the gnats and flies which  
flit  across my cell1 ,i have nothing to
 relieve for a moment my burden of      

ennui4    ,spirit4 ,how long have you   
been reduced to this kind of life8      
,tasso4 ,for many weeks1 as you know4   
,spirit4 ,have you felt no variation in 
the ennui which oppresses you1  from the
 first day until now8    ,tasso4 ,yes4  
,i felt it more at first4 ,gradually my 
mind is becoming  accustomed to its own 
society2 ,i derive more and more        
pleasure from  my solitude1 and by      
practice ,i am acquiring so great a     
readiness in  conversation1 or rather   
chattering to myself1 that ,i seem to   
have in my  head a company of talkative 
people1 and the most trifling object is 
now  sufficient to give rise to endless 
discourse4    ,spirit4 ,this habit will 
grow on you daily to such an extent1    
that  when you are free1 you will feel  
more idle in society than in solitude4  
,custom has made you bear patiently your
 kind of life1 and the same  influence  
works not only in people who meditate   
like you1 but in  everyone4 ,besides1   
the very fact that you are separated    

from men1 and  even1 it may be said1    
from life itself1 will be of some       
advantage to  you4 ,disgusted and       
wearied with human affairs1 as you are  
from your sad  experience1 you will in  
time begin to look on them1 from a      
distance1  with an appreciative eye4 ,in
 your solitude they will appear to you  
more  beautiful1 and worthy of          
affection4 ,you will forget their vanity
 and  misery1 and will take upon        
yourself to re-create the world as you  
would  have it4 ,consequently1 you will 
value1 desire1 and love life4 ,and1     
provided there be the possibility or    
certainty of your return to human       
society some day1 your new aspect of    
life will fill and gladden your  mind   
with a joy like that of childhood4      
,solitude does indeed sometimes act like
 a second youth4 ,it rejuvenates  the   
soul1 revives the imagination1 and      
renews in an experienced man  those     
impressions of early innocence that you 
so ardently desire4  ,but your eyes seem

 heavy with sleep3 ,i will now therefore
 leave you  to prepare the fine dream ,i
 promised you4 ,thus between dreams and 
fancies1 your life shall pass without   
other gain than the fact of its         
passing1 which is the sole benefit of   
life4 ,to hasten it should be the  one  
aim of your existence4 ,you are often   
obliged to cling to life1 as  it were   
with your teeth2 happy will be the day  
when death releases  you from the       
struggle4 ,but after all1 time passes as
 tediously with  your persecutor in his 
palace and gardens1 as with you in your 
prison  chamber4 ,adieu4    ,tasso4     
,adieu1 yet stay a moment4 ,your        
conversation always enlivens  me4 ,it   
does not draw me from my sadness1 but my
 mind1 which is  generally comparable to
 a dark night1 moonless and starless1   
changes  when you are near to a         
condition like that of a grey dawn1     
pleasurable  rather than otherwise4 ,now
 tell me how ,i can find you in case ,i 
want  you at some future time4          

,spirit4 ,do you not yet know8--,in any 
generous liquor4        ,footnote #a3   
,tasso1 during his mental               
hallucinations1 used to fancy1  like    
,socrates1 that he was visited by a     
friendly spirit1 with which he  would   
hold long conversations4 ,manso1 in his 
life of ,tasso1 mentions  this1 and     
states that he was once present during  
such a colloquy or  soliloquy between   
,tasso and his imagined companion4      
,footnote #b3 ,apollonius1 ,hist4       
,comment41 cap4 #df1 c4                 
,,dialogue ,,between ,,nature ,,and ,,an
 ,,icelander4      ,an ,icelander who   
had travelled over most of the earth1   
and had lived  in very many different   
lands1 found himself one day in the     
heart of  ,africa4 ,as he crossed the   
equator in a place never before         
penetrated  by man1 he had an adventure 
like that which happened to ,vasco di   
,gama1  who1 when passing the ,cape of  
,good ,hope1 was opposed by two giants1 
the  guardians of the southern seas1    

that tried to prevent his entrance into 
the new waters4#a ,the ,icelander saw in
 the distance a huge bust1 in           
appearance like the colossal ,hermes he 
had formerly seen in the ,isle  of      
,pasqua4 ,at first he thought it was    
made of stone1 but as he drew  near to  
it he saw that the head belonged to an  
enormous woman1 who was  seated on the  
ground1 resting her back against a      
mountain4 ,the figure  was alive1 and   
had a countenance both magnificent and  
terrible1 and  eyes and hair of a jet   
black colour4 ,she looked fixedly at him
 for a  long time in silence4 ,at length
 she said3    ,nature4 ,who art thou8   
,what doest thou here1 where thy race is
 unknown8    ,icelander4 ,i am a poor   
,icelander1 fleeing from ,nature4 ,i    
have fled  from her ever since ,i was a 
child1 through a hundred different parts
 of  the world1 and ,i am fleeing from  
her now4    ,nature4 ,so flees the      
squirrel from the rattlesnake1 and runs 
in its  haste deliberately into the     

mouth of its tormentor4 ,i am that from 
which thou fleest4    ,icelander4       
,nature8    ,nature4 ,even so4          
,icelander4 ,i am smitten with anguish1 
for ,i consider no worse  misfortune    
could befall me4    ,nature4 ,thou      
mightest well have imagined that ,i was 
to be found in  countries where my power
 is supremest4 ,but why dost thou shun  
me8    ,icelander4 ,you must know that  
from my earliest youth1 experience      
convinced me of the vanity of life1 and 
the folly of men4 ,i saw these  latter  
ceaselessly struggling for pleasures    
that please not1 and  possessions that  
do not satisfy4 ,i saw them inflict on  
themselves1 and  voluntarily suffer1    
infinite pains1 which1 unlike the       
pleasures1 were  only too genuine4 ,in  
short1 the more ardently they sought    
happiness1  the further they seemed     
removed from it4 ,these things made me  
determine  to abandon every design1 to  
live a life of peace and obscurity1     
harming  no one1 striving in nought to  

better my condition1 and contesting     
nothing with anyone4 ,i despaired of    
happiness1 which ,i regarded as a  thing
 withheld from our race1 and my only aim
 was to shield myself  from suffering4  
,not that ,i had the least intention of 
abstaining from  work1 or bodily labour2
 for there is as great a difference     
between mere  fatigue and pain1#b as    
between a peaceful and an idle life4    
,but when ,i began to carry out my      
project1 ,i learnt from experience how  
fallacious it is to think that one can  
live inoffensively amongst men  without 
offending them4 ,though ,i always gave  
them precedence1 and took  the smallest 
part of everything1 ,i found neither    
rest nor happiness  among them4         
,however1 this ,i soon remedied4 ,by    
avoiding men ,i freed  myself from their
 persecutions4 ,i took refuge in        
solitude--easily  obtainable in my      
native island4 ,having done this1 ,i    
lived without a  shadow of enjoyment2   
yet ,i found ,i had not escaped all     

suffering4  ,the intense cold of the    
long winter1 and the extreme heat of    
summer1  characteristic of the country1 
allowed me no cessation from pain4 ,and 
when1 to warm myself1 ,i passed much    
time by the fire1 ,i was scorched by    
the flames1 and blinded by the smoke4 ,i
 suffered continuously1 whether  in the 
open air1 or in the shelter of my cabin4
 ,in short1 ,i failed to  obtain that   
life of peace which was my one desire4  
,terrible storms1  ,hecla's menaces and 
rumblings1 and the constant fires which 
occur among  the wooden houses of my    
country1 combined to keep me in a state 
of  perpetual disquietude4 ,such        
annoyances as these1 trivial though they
 be  when the mind is distracted by the 
thoughts and actions of social and      
civil life1 are intensified by solitude4
 ,i endured them all1 together  with the
 hopeless monotony of my existence1     
solely in order to obtain  the          
tranquillity ,i desired4 ,i perceived   
that the more ,i isolated myself  from  

men1 and confined me to my own little   
sphere1 the less ,i succeeded  in       
protecting myself from the discomforts  
and sufferings of the outer  world4     
,then ,i determined to try other        
climates and countries1 to see if       
anywhere ,i could live in peace1 harming
 no one1 and exist without  suffering1  
if also without pleasure4 ,i was urged  
to this by the thought  that perhaps you
 had destined for the human race a      
certain part of the  earth 7as you have 
for many animals and plants71 where     
alone they could  live in comfort4 ,in  
which case it was our own fault if we   
suffered  inconvenience from having     
exceeded our natural boundaries4 ,i have
  therefore been over the whole earth1  
testing every country1 and always       
fulfilling my intention of troubling    
others in the least possible  degree1   
and seeking nothing for myself but a    
life of tranquillity4  ,but in vain4    
,the tropical sun burnt me2 the ,arctic 
cold froze me2 in  temperate regions the

 changeability of the weather troubled  
me2 and  everywhere ,i have experienced 
the fury of the elements4 ,i have been  
in  places where not a day passes       
without a storm1 and where you1 ,o      
,nature1  are incessantly at war with   
simple people who have never done you   
any  harm4 ,in other places cloudless   
skies are compensated for by frequent   
earthquakes1 active volcanoes1 and      
subterranean commotions4 ,elsewhere     
hurricanes and whirlwinds take the place
 of other scourges4 ,sometimes  ,i have 
heard the roof over my head groan with  
the burden of snow that  it supported2  
at other times the earth1 saturated with
 rain1 has broken  away beneath my feet4
 ,rivers have burst their banks1 and    
pursued me1  fleeing at full speed1 as  
though ,i were an enemy4 ,wild beasts   
tried  to devour me1 without the least  
provocation on my part4 ,serpents have  
sought to poison or crush me2 and ,i    
have been nearly killed by insects4  ,i 
make no mention of the daily hazards by 

which man is surrounded4  ,these last   
are so numerous that an ancient         
philosopher#c laid down a  rule1 that to
 resist the constant influence of fear1 
it were well to  fear everything4       
,again1 sickness has not failed to      
torment me1 though invariably           
temperate1 and even abstemious1 in all  
bodily pleasures4 ,in truth1 our        
natural constitution is an admirably    
arranged affair6 ,you inspire us  with a
 strong and incessant yearning for      
pleasure1 deprived of which  our life is
 imperfect2 and on the other hand you   
ordain that nothing  should be more     
opposed to physical health and strength1
 more calamitous  in its effects1 and   
more incompatible with the duration of  
life itself1  than this same pleasure4  
,but although ,i indulged in no         
pleasures1  numerous diseases attacked  
me1 some of which endangered my life1   
and  others the use of my limbs1 thus   
threatening me with even an access of   
misery4 ,all1 during many days or       

months1 caused me to experience a       
thousand bodily and mental pangs4 ,and1 
whereas in sickness we endure  new and  
extraordinary sufferings1 as though our 
ordinary life were  not sufficiently    
unhappy2 you do not compensate for this 
by giving us  equally exceptional       
periods of health and strength1 and     
consequent  enjoyment4 ,in regions where
 the snow never melts1 ,i lost my sight2
 this  is an ordinary occurrence among  
the ,laplanders in their cold country4  
,the sun and air1 things necessary for  
life1 and therefore unavoidable1        
trouble us continually2 the latter by   
its dampness or severity1 the  former by
 its heat1 and even its light2 and to   
neither of them can  man remain exposed 
without suffering more or less          
inconvenience or  harm4 ,in short1 ,i   
cannot recollect a single day during    
which ,i have  not suffered in some way2
 whereas1 on the other hand1 the days   
that  have gone by without a shadow of  
enjoyment are countless4 ,i conclude    

therefore that we are destined to suffer
 much in proportion as we enjoy  little1
 and that it is as impossible to live   
peacefully as happily4 ,i  also         
naturally come to the conclusion that   
you are the avowed enemy of  men1 and   
all other creatures of your creation4   
,sometimes alluring1 at  other times    
menacing2 now attacking1 now striking1  
now pursuing1 now  destroying2 you are  
always engaged in tormenting us4 ,either
 by habit or  necessity you are the     
enemy of your own family1 and the       
executioner of  your own flesh and      
blood4 ,as for me1 ,i have lost all     
hope4 ,experience  has proved to me that
 though it be possible to escape from   
men and  their persecutions1 it is      
impossible to evade you1 who will never 
cease tormenting us until you have      
trodden us under foot4 ,old age1  with  
all its bitterness1 and sorrows1 and    
accumulation of troubles1 is  already   
near to me4 ,this worst of evils you    
have destined for us and  all created   

beings1 from the time of infancy4 ,from 
the fifth lustre of  life1 decline makes
 itself manifest2 its progress we are   
powerless to  stay4 ,scarce a third of  
life is spent in the bloom of youth2 but
 few  moments are claimed by maturity2  
all the rest is one gradual decay1  with
 its attendant evils4    ,nature4       
,thinkest thou then that the world was  
made for thee8 ,it is  time thou knewest
 that in my designs1 operations1 and    
decrees1 ,i never  gave a thought to the
 happiness or unhappiness of man4 ,if ,i
 cause you  to suffer1 ,i am unaware of 
the fact2 nor do ,i perceive that ,i can
 in  any way give you pleasure4 ,what ,i
 do is in no sense done for your        
enjoyment or benefit1 as you seem to    
think4 ,finally1 if ,i by chance        
exterminated your species1 ,i should not
 know it4    ,icelander4 ,suppose a     
stranger invited me to his house in a   
most  pressing manner1 and ,i1 to oblige
 him1 accepted his invitation4 ,on my   
arrival he took me to a damp and        

unhealthy place1 and lodged me in a     
chamber open to the air1 and so ruinous 
that it threatened momentarily  to      
collapse and crush me4 ,far from        
endeavouring to amuse me1 and make  me  
comfortable1 he neglected to provide me 
with even the necessaries  of life4 ,and
 more than this4 ,suppose my host caused
 me to be insulted1  ridiculed1         
threatened1 and beaten by his sons and  
household4 ,and on my  complaining to   
him of such ill-treatment1 he replied3  
,dost thou think  ,i made this house for
 thee8 ,do ,i keep these my children and
 servants  for thy service8 ,i assure   
thee ,i have other things to occupy me1 
than  that ,i should amuse thee1 or give
 thee welcome4 ,to which ,i answered3   
,well1 my friend1 though you may not    
have built your house especially  for   
me1 at least you might have forborne to 
ask me hither4 ,and1 since ,i  owe it to
 you that ,i am here1 ought ,i not to   
rely on you to assure me1  if possible1 
a life free from trouble and danger8    

,thus ,i reply to you4 ,i am well aware 
you did not make the world for the      
service of men4 ,it were easier to      
believe that you made it expressly  as a
 place of torment for them4 ,but tell   
me3 why am ,i here at all8 ,did  ,i ask 
to come into the world8 ,or am ,i here  
unnaturally1 contrary to  your will8 ,if
 however1 you yourself have placed me   
here1 without giving  me the power of   
acceptance or refusal of this gift of   
life1 ought you  not as far as possible 
to try and make me happy1 or at least   
preserve  me from the evils and dangers1
 which render my sojourn a painful one8 
,and what ,i say of myself1 ,i say of   
the whole human race1 and of every      
living creature4    ,nature4 ,thou      
forgettest that the life of the world is
 a perpetual  cycle of production and   
destruction1 so combined that the one   
works  for the good of the other4 ,by   
their joint operation the universe is   
preserved4 ,if either ceased1 the world 
would dissolve4 ,therefore1 if          

suffering were removed from the earth1  
its own existence would be  endangered4 
,icelander4 ,so say all the             
philosophers4 ,but since that which is  
destroyed suffers1 and that which is    
born from its destruction also  suffers 
in due course1 and finally is in its    
turn destroyed1 would you  enlighten me 
on one point1 about which hitherto no   
philosopher has  satisfied me8 ,for     
whose pleasure and service is this      
wretched life of  the world maintained1 
by the suffering and death of all the   
beings  which compose it8    ,whilst    
they discussed these and similar        
questions1 two lions are said  to have  
suddenly appeared4 ,the beasts were so  
enfeebled and emaciated  with hunger    
that they were scarcely able to devour  
the ,icelander4 ,they  accomplished the 
feat however1 and thus gained sufficient
 strength to  live to the end of the    
day4    ,but certain people dispute this
 fact4 ,they affirm that a violent wind 
having arisen1 the unfortunate          

,icelander was blown to the ground1  and
 soon overwhelmed beneath a magnificent 
mausoleum of sand4 ,here  his corpse was
 remarkably preserved1 and in process of
 time he was  transformed into a fine   
mummy4 ,subsequently1 some travellers   
discovered  the body1 and carried it off
 as a specimen1 ultimately depositing it
 in  one of the museums of ,europe4     
,footnote #a3 ,camoens' ,lusiad1 canto  
#e4    ,footnote #b3 ,cicero says3      
,labour and pain are not identical4     
,labour is  a toil-some function of body
 or mind--pain an unpleasant disturbance
 in  the body4 ,when they cut ,marius'  
veins1 it was pain2 when he marched at  
the head of the troops in a great heat1 
it was labour4--,tusc4 ,qust4           
,footnote #c3 ,seneca1 ,natural4        
,question3 lib4 #f1 cap4 #b4            
,,parini ,,on ,,glory4        ,,giuseppe
 ,,parini#a was in our opinion one of   
the very few ,italians who  to literary 
excellence joined depth of thought1 and 
acquaintance with  contemporary         

philosophy4 ,these latter attributes are
 now so essential  to the cultivation of
 the belles lettres1 that their absence 
would  be inconceivable1 did we not find
 an infinite number of ,italian         
littrateurs of the present day1 in whom 
they are wanting4    ,he was remarkable 
for his simplicity1 his compassion for  
the  unfortunate and his own country1   
his fidelity1 high-mindedness1 and the  
courage with which he bore the          
adversities of nature and fortune1 which
  tormented him during the whole course 
of his miserable and lowly life4  ,death
 however drew him from obscurity4    ,he
 had several disciples1 whom he taught1 
first of all1 to gain  experience of men
 and things1 and then to amuse          
themselves with  eloquence and poetry4  
,among his followers was a youth1 lately
 come to  him1 of wonderful genius and  
industry1 and of very great promise4 ,to
  him one day ,parini spoke as follows3 
,you seek1 my son1 the only avenue to   
glory which is open to people who  lead 

a private life1 such glory as is        
sometimes the reward of wisdom1  and    
literary and other studies4 ,now you are
 not unaware that this  glory1 though   
far from being despised1 was by our     
greatest ancestors  held in less esteem 
than that derivable from other things4  
,cicero1  for instance1 though a most   
ardent and successful follower of glory1
  frequently and emphatically makes     
apology for the time and labour he  had 
spent in its pursuit4 ,on one occasion  
he states that his literary  and        
philosophical studies were secondary to 
his public life2 on  another1 that being
 constrained by the wickedness of the   
age to abandon  more important business1
 he hoped to spend his leisure          
profitably amid  these studies4 ,he     
invariably rated the glory of his       
writings at a lower  value than that    
acquired from his consulship and his    
labours on behalf  of the republic4     
,indeed1 if human life be the principal 
subject of literature1 and to  rule our 

actions the first lesson of philosophy2 
there can be no doubt  that action      
itself is as much more important and    
noble than thoughts  and writing1 as the
 end is nobler than the means1 or as    
things and  subjects in comparison with 
words and reasoning4 ,for no man1       
however  clever he be1 is naturally     
created for study1 nor born to write4   
,action  alone is natural to him4 ,and  
we see the majority of fine writers1 and
  especially illustrious poets in the   
present age 7,vittorio ,alfieri1  for   
instance71 impelled to action in an     
extraordinary degree4 ,then1  if by     
chance the deeds of these men prove     
unacceptable1 either from  the nature of
 the times or their own ill-fortune1    
they take up the  pen and write grand   
things4 ,nor can people write who have  
neither the  disposition nor power to   
act4 ,from this you will easily         
understand why  so few ,italians gain   
immortal fame by their writings2 it is  
that they  are by nature unfit for noble

 actions4 ,antiquity1 especially that of
  the early ,greeks or ,romans1 is1 ,i  
think1 comparable to the design of  the 
statue of ,telesilla1 who was a poetess1
 a warrior1 and the saviour  of her     
country4 ,she is represented holding her
 helmet1 at which she  looks intently   
and longingly1 as though she desired to 
place it on her  head2 at her feet lie  
some books almost disregarded1 as       
forming but an  insignificant part of   
her glory4#b    ,but men of modern times
 are differently situated to the        
ancients4  ,glory is less open to them4 
,they who make studies their vocation in
  life show the greatest possible       
magnanimity2 nor need they1 like        
,cicero1 apologise to their country for 
the profession they have chosen4  ,i    
therefore applaud the nobility of your  
decision4 ,but since a life of  letters1
 being unnatural1 cannot be lived       
without injury to the body1  nor without
 increasing in many ways the natural    
infelicity of your  mind1 ,i regard it  

as my duty to explain to you the various
 difficulties  attendant on the pursuit 
of that glory towards which you aspire1 
and  the results that will follow       
success should you attain it4 ,you will 
then be able to estimate1 on the one    
hand1 the importance and value  of the  
goal1 and your chance of reaching it2   
and1 on the other1 the  sufferings1     
exertions1 and discomforts inseparable  
from the pursuit4  ,thus1 you may be    
better able to decide whether it be     
expedient to  continue as you have      
begun1 or to seek glory by some other   
road4      ,footnote #a3 ,parini lived  
#agbi-agii4 ,as a philosopher and       
satirist he  seems to have exercised no 
slight influence over the mind of       
,leopardi4    ,footnote #b3 ,pausanias1 
lib4 #b1 cap4 #bj4        ,,chapter     
,,ii4    ,i might first of all say a    
great deal about the rivalries1 envy1   
bitter censures1 libels1 injustices1    
schemes and plots against your          
character1 both in public and private1  

and the many other difficulties  which  
the wickedness of men will induce them  
to oppose to you in the  path you have  
chosen4 ,these obstacles1 always very   
hard to overcome  and often insuperable1
 exercise a further influence4 ,it is   
owing to  them that more than one       
author1 not only in life1 but even when 
dead1  is robbed of the honour that is  
due to him4 ,such an one1 not having    
been famous when alive1 because of the  
hatred or envy with which he  was       
regarded by others1 when dead remains in
 obscurity1 because he is  forgotten2   
for it rarely happens that a man obtains
 glory after he has  ceased writing1    
when there is no one to excite an       
interest in him4    ,i do not intend to 
refer to the hindrances which arise from
 matters  personal to the writer1 and   
other more trivial things4 ,yet it is   
often  owing to these latter that       
writings worthy of the highest praise1  
and  the fruit of infinite exertions1   
are for ever excluded from fame1 or     

having been before the world for a short
 time1 fall into oblivion1 and          
disappear entirely from the memory of   
men4 ,for the same causes other         
writings1 either inferior to or no      
better than these1 become highly        
honoured4 ,i will merely expose to you  
the difficulties and troubles  which1   
apart from the malice of men1 will      
stubbornly contest the  prize of glory4 
,these embarrassments are of ordinary1  
not exceptional  occurrence1 and have   
been experienced by most great writers4 
,you are aware that no one can be called
 a great writer1 nor obtains  true and  
lasting glory1 except by means of       
excellent and perfect works1  or such as
 approach perfection4 ,the following    
very true utterance of  ,castiglione is 
worthy of being engraved on your        
mind3--,it is very  seldom that a person
 unaccustomed to write1 however learned 
he be1 can  adequately recognise the    
skill and industry of writers2 or       
appreciate  the delicacy and excellence 

of styles1 and those subtle and hidden  
significations which abound in the      
writings of the ancients4'    ,in the   
first place1 consider how very few      
people practise or learn  the art of    
composition2 and think from how small a 
number of men1  whether in the present  
or the future1 you can in any case look 
for the  magnificent estimation which   
you hope will be the reward of your     
life4  ,consider1 too1 how much         
influence style has in securing         
appreciation  for writings4 ,on this1   
and their degree of perfection1 depends 
the  subsequent fate of all works that  
come under the heading of 'light        
literature1' ,so great is the influence 
of style1 that a book presumably        
celebrated for its matter often proves  
valueless when deprived of its  manner4 
,now1 language is so interwoven with    
style that the one can  hardly be       
considered apart from the other4 ,men   
frequently confuse the  two together1   
and are often unable to express the     

distinction between  them1 if even they 
are aware of it in the first place4 ,and
 as for the  thousand merits and defects
 of language and style1 with difficulty1
  if at all1 can they be discerned and  
assigned to their respective            
properties4 ,but it is certain1 to quote
 the words of ,castiglione1 that  no    
foreigner is 'accustomed to write' with 
elegance in your language4  ,it follows 
therefore that style1 which is so great 
and important a  necessity in           
composition1 and a thing of such        
unaccountable difficulty  and labour1   
both in acquirement and usage1 can only 
properly be judged  and appreciated by  
the persons who in one single nation are
 accustomed  to write4 ,for all other   
people the boundless exertions attached 
to the  formation of style will be      
almost useless1 and as if entirely      
wasted4 ,i  will not refer to the       
infinite diversities of opinion1 and the
 various  tendencies of readers2 owing  
to which the number of persons adapted  

to  perceive the good qualities of this 
or that book is still more reduced4     
,you must regard it as an undoubted fact
 that1 in order to distinctly  recognise
 the value of a perfect or nearly       
perfect work1 deserving of  immortality1
 it is not enough merely to be          
accustomed to write4 ,you  yourself must
 be able to accomplish the work in      
question almost as  perfectly as the    
writer himself4 ,and as experience      
gradually teaches  you what qualities   
constitute a perfect writer1 and what an
 infinity of  difficulties must be      
surmounted before these can be obtained1
 you will  learn how to overcome the    
latter1 and acquire the former2 so that 
in  time knowledge and power will prove 
to be one and the same thing4 ,hence  a 
man cannot discern nor fully appreciate 
the excellence of perfect  writers until
 he is able to give expression to it in 
his own writings2  because such         
perfection can only be appreciated by   
what may be termed  a transference of it

 into oneself4 ,until this be done1 a   
man cannot  really understand what      
constitutes perfection in writing1 and  
will  therefore be unable to duly admire
 the best writers4    ,now most literary
 men1 because they write easily1 think  
they write  well2 they therefore regard 
good writing as a facile accomplishment1
  even though they assert the contrary4 
,think1 then1 how the number will  be   
reduced of those who might appreciate   
and laud you when1 after  inconceivable 
exertions and care1 you succeed in      
producing a noble and  perfect work4 ,in
 the present day there are scarcely two 
or three men in  ,italy who have        
acquired the art of perfect writing2 and
 although this  number may appear to you
 excessively small1 at no time nor place
 has it  ever been much greater4    ,i  
often wonder to myself how ,virgil1 as a
 supreme example of literary            
perfection1 ever acquired the high      
reputation in which he is now  held4    
,for ,i am certain that most of his     

readers and eulogisers do not  discover 
in his poems more than one beauty for   
every ten or twenty  revealed to me by  
continuous study and meditation4 ,not   
that ,i imagine ,i  have succeeded in   
estimating him at his proper value1 nor 
have derived  every possible enjoyment  
from his writings4 ,in truth1 the esteem
 and  admiration professed for the      
greatest writers is ordinarily the      
result  of a blind predisposition in    
their favour1 rather than the outcome of
  an impartial judgment1 or the         
consequence of a due appreciation of    
their merits4    ,when ,i was young ,i  
remember first reading ,virgil1 being on
 the one  hand unbiassed in my judgment1
 and careless of the opinion of others  
7a very rare thing1 by the by72 and1 on 
the other hand1 as ignorant as  most    
boys of my age1 though perhaps not more 
so than is the unchanging  condition of 
many readers4 ,i refused to admit that  
,virgil's reputation  was merited1 since
 ,i failed to discover in him much more 

than is to be  found in very ordinary   
poets4 ,indeed1 it surprises me that    
,virgil's  fame should excel that of    
,lucan4 ,for we see the mass of readers1
 at  all times1 equally when the        
literature of the day is of a debasing  
or  an elevating tendency1 much prefer  
gross and unmistakable beauties to      
those that are delicate and             
half-concealed4 ,they also prefer       
fervour  to modesty2 often indeed even  
the apparent to the real2 and usually   
mediocrity to perfection4    ,in reading
 the letters of a certain prince1       
exceptionally intelligent1  whose       
writing was remarkable for its wit1     
pleasantry1 smoothness1 and  acuteness1 
,i clearly discerned that in his heart  
he preferred the  ,henriad to the neid2 
although the fear of shocking men's     
sensibilities  might deter him from     
confessing such a preference4    ,i am  
astonished that the judgment of a few1  
correct though it be1  should have      
succeeded in controlling that of        

numbers1 and should have  established   
the custom of an esteem no less blind   
than just4 ,this1  however1 does not    
always occur1 and ,i imagine that the   
fame gained by  the best writers is     
rather a matter of chance than merit4   
,my opinion  may be confirmed by what ,i
 say as we proceed4        ,,chapter    
,,iii4      ,we have seen how very few  
people will be able to appreciate you   
when  you succeed in becoming a perfect 
writer4 ,now1 ,i wish to indicate  some 
of the hindrances that will prevent even
 these few from rightly  estimating your
 worth1 although they see the signs of  
it4    ,in the first place1 there can be
 no doubt that all writings of          
eloquence or poetry are judged1 not so  
much on their merits1 as by  the effect 
they produce in the mind of the reader4 
,so that the reader  may be said to     
consider them rather in himself than in 
themselves4  ,consequently men who are  
naturally devoid of imagination and     
enthusiasm1 though gifted with much     

intelligence1 discernment1 and  no      
little learning1 are almost quite       
incapable of forming a correct  judgment
 of fanciful writings4 ,they cannot in  
the least immerse their  minds in the   
mind of the writer1 and usually have    
within themselves a  feeling of contempt
 for his compositions1 because unable to
 discover  in what their so great fame  
consists4 ,such reading awakens no      
emotion  within them1 nor does it arouse
 their imagination1 or create in them   
any especial sensation of pleasure4 ,and
 even people who are naturally  disposed
 and inclined to receive the impression 
of whatever image or  fancy a writer has
 properly signified1 very often         
experience a feeling  of coldness1      
indifference1 languor1 or dulness2 so   
that for the time  they resemble the    
persons just mentioned4 ,this change is 
due to divers  causes1 internal and     
external1 physical and mental1 and is   
either  temporary or lasting4 ,at such  
times no one1 even though himself an    

excellent writer1 is a good judge of    
writings intended to excite the         
affections or the imagination4 ,again1  
there is the danger of satiety  due to  
previous reading of similar writings4   
,certain passions too1 of  more or less 
strength1 from time to time invest the  
mind1 leaving no  room for the emotions 
which ought to be excited by the        
reading4 ,and it  often happens that    
places2 spectacles1 natural or          
artificial1 music2  and a hundred such  
things1 which would ordinarily excite   
us1 are now  incapable of arousing or   
delighting us in the least1 although no 
less  attractive than formerly4    ,but1
 though a man1 for one or other of these
 reasons1 may be ill  disposed to       
appreciate the effects of eloquence or  
poetry1 he does  not for that reason    
defer judgment of books on both these   
subjects  which he then happens to read 
for the first time4 ,i myself sometimes 
take up ,homer1 ,cicero1 or ,petrarch1  
and read without feeling the least      

emotion4 ,yet1 as ,i am quite aware of  
the merits of these writers1  both      
because of their reputation1 and my own 
frequent appreciation of  their charms1 
,i do not for a moment think them       
undeservedly praised  simply because ,i 
am at present too dull to do them       
justice4 ,but it is  different with     
books read for the first time1 which are
 too new to have  acquired a reputation4
 ,there is nothing in such cases to     
prevent the  reader forming a low       
opinion of the author and the merits of 
his book1  if his mind be indisposed to 
do justice to the sentiments and imagery
  contained in the work4 ,nor would it  
be easy to induce him to alter his      
judgment by subsequent study of the same
 book under better auspices2  for       
probably the disgust inspired by his    
first reading will deter him  from a    
second2 and in any case the strength of 
first impressions will  be almost       
invincible4    ,on the other hand1 the  
mind is sometimes1 for one reason or    

another1  in such a state of            
sensibility1 vivacity1 vigour1 and      
fervour1 that  it follows even the least
 suggestion of the reading2 it feels    
keenly  the slightest touch1 and as it  
reads is able to create within itself  a
 thousand emotions and fancies1         
sometimes losing itself in a sort  of   
sweet delirium1 when it is almost       
transported out of itself4 ,as a        
natural result of this1 the mind1       
reviewing the pleasures enjoyed in  the 
reading1 and not distinguishing between 
its own predisposition  and the actual  
merits of the book1 experiences a       
feeling of so great  admiration1 and    
forms so high a conception of it1 as    
even to rank the  book above others of  
much greater merit1 read under less     
felicitous  circumstances4 ,see         
therefore to what uncertainty is subject
 even the  truth and justice of opinions
 from the same persons1 as to the       
writings  and genius of others1 quite   
apart from any sentiment of malice or   

favour4 ,so great is this uncertainty   
that a man varies considerably  in his  
estimation of works of equal value1 and 
even the same work1 at  different times 
of life1 under different circumstances1 
and even at  different hours of the day4
        ,,chapter ,,iv4      ,perhaps   
you may think that these difficulties1  
due to mental  indisposition on the part
 of readers1 are of rare occurrence4    
,consider1  then1 how frequently a man1 
as he grows old1 becomes incapable of   
appreciating the charms of eloquence and
 poetry1 no less than those  of the     
other imitative arts1 and everything    
beautiful in the world4  ,this          
intellectual decay is a necessity of our
 nature4 ,in the present  day it is so  
much greater than formerly1 begins so   
much earlier1 and  progresses so much   
more rapidly1 especially in the         
studious1 as our  experience is enlarged
 in more or less degree by the knowledge
 begotten  of the speculations of so    
many past centuries4 ,for which reason1 

and  owing to the present condition of  
civilised life1 the phantoms of         
childhood soon vanish from the          
imagination of men2 with them go the    
hopes of the mind1 and with the hopes   
most of the desires1 passions1  and     
energy of life and its faculties4       
,whence ,i often wonder that men  of    
mature age1 especially the learned and  
those inclined to meditate  about human 
affairs1 should yet be subject to the   
influence of poetry  and eloquence1     
which are1 however1 unable to produce   
any real effect on  them4    ,it may be 
regarded as a fact that1 in order to be 
greatly moved by  imagination of the    
grand and beautiful1 one must believe   
that there is  something really grand   
and beautiful in human life1 and that   
poetry is  not mere fable4 ,the young   
always believe such things1 even when   
they  know their fallacy1 until personal
 experience forces them to accept  the  
truth4 ,but it is difficult to put faith
 in them after the sad  discipline of   

practical life2 especially when         
experience is combined  with habits of  
study and speculation4    ,from this it 
would seem that the young are generally 
better judges  of writings intended to  
arouse the affections and the           
imagination1  than men of mature and    
advanced age4 ,but1 on the other hand1  
the  young are novices in literature4   
,they exact from books a superhuman1    
boundless1 and impossible pleasure1 and 
where they fail to experience  this they
 despise the writer4 ,illiterate people 
have the same idea of  the functions of 
literature4 ,and youths addicted to     
reading prefer1  both in their own      
writings and those of others1           
extravagance to  moderation1            
magnificence or attractiveness of style 
and ornamentation1  to the simple and   
natural1 and sham beauties to real ones4
 ,this is  partly due to their limited  
experience1 and partly to the           
impetuosity  of their time of life4     
,consequently1 although the young are   

doubtless  more inclined than their     
elders to applaud what seems good to    
them1  since they are more truthful and 
candid1 they are seldom capable of      
appreciating the excellences of literary
 works4 ,as we grow older1  the         
influence exercised over us by art      
increases1 as that of nature            
diminishes4 ,nevertheless both nature   
and art are necessary to produce        
effect4    ,dwellers in large towns are 
compelled to sacrifice the beautiful  to
 the useful4 ,even though of warm and   
sensitive natures and lively            
imagination1 they cannot experience as  
an effect of the charms  either of      
nature or literature any tender or noble
 sentiment1 any  sublime or delightful  
fancy2 unless indeed1 like you1 they    
spend  most of their time in solitude4  
,for few things are so opposed to  the  
state of mind necessary to appreciate   
such delights1 as the  conversation of  
these men1 the riot of these places1 and
 the sight of  the tinselled splendour1 

the falseness1 the miserable troubles1  
and  still more miserable idleness which
 abound there4 ,i also think that  the  
littrateurs of large towns are1 as a    
rule1 less qualified to  judge books    
than those of small towns2 because1 like
 everything else1  the literature of    
large towns is ordinarily false and     
pretentious1 or  superficial4    ,and   
whereas the ancients used to regard     
literature and the sciences  as a       
pleasing change from more serious       
business1 in the present day  the       
majority of men who in large towns      
profess to be students regard           
literature and writing as merely an     
agreeable variation of their other      
amusements4    ,i think that works of   
art1 whether painting1 sculpture1 or    
architecture1 would be much more        
appreciated if they were disseminated   
throughout a country in different-sized 
towns1 instead of being1 as  at present1
 accumulated in the chief cities4 ,for  
in the latter places  men are so full of

 thoughts1 so occupied with pleasurable 
pursuits and  vain and frivolous        
excitements1 that they are very rarely  
capable of  the profound pleasures of   
the intellect4 ,besides1 a multitude of 
fine  things gathered together have a   
distracting influence2 the mind bestows 
but little attention on individual      
things1 and is sensible of no  especial 
gratification2 or else it becomes       
satiated1 and regards them  all as      
indifferently as though they were       
objects of the commonest kind4    ,i say
 the same of music1 which is nowhere so 
elaborate1 or brought to  such          
perfection1 as in large towns1 where men
 have less appreciation  for the        
wonderful emotions of the art1 and are  
indeed less musical than  elsewhere4    
,nevertheless1 large towns are a useful 
home for the fostering and  perfecting  
of the arts2 although their inhabitants 
are less under the  influence of their  
charms than the people of other places4 
,it may be  said that artists1 who work 

in solitude and silence1 strive         
laboriously  and industriously to please
 men1 who1 because accustomed to the    
bustle  and noise of cities1 are almost 
totally incapable of appreciating the   
fruit of their exertions4    ,the fate  
of writers may in a measure be compared 
to that of artists4        ,,chapter ,v4
      ,we will now return to the        
consideration of authors4    ,it is a   
characteristic of writings approaching  
perfection that they  usually please    
more when read a second time1 than they 
pleased at  first4 ,the contrary effect 
is produced by many books written       
carefully  and skilfully1 but which     
really possess few merits4 ,these when  
read a  second time are less esteemed   
than at first4 ,but both kinds of books1
  when read only once1 often deceive    
even the learned and experienced1 so    
that indifferent books are preferred to 
excellent ones4 ,in the present  day1   
however1 even students by profession can
 rarely be induced to read  new books a 

second time1 especially such as come    
under the heading of  light literature4 
,this was not so in olden times1 because
 then but few  books were in existence4 
,now1 it is very different4 ,we possess 
the  literary bequests of all past      
times4 ,every nation has its literature1
  and produces its host of books daily4 
,there are writings in all  languages1  
ancient and modern1 relating to every   
branch of science and  learning1 and so 
closely connected and allied that the   
student must  study them all as far as  
possible4 ,you may therefore easily     
imagine  that a book does not obtain    
full consideration on a first reading1  
and  that a second reading is out of the
 question4 ,yet the first opinion  that 
we form of a new book is seldom changed4
    ,for the same reasons1 even in the  
first reading of books1 especially      
those of light literature1 very rarely  
sufficient attention and study  is given
 to discover the laborious perfection1  
the subtle art1 and  the hidden and     

unpretentious virtues of the writings4  
,thus1 in the  present day the condition
 of excellent books is really worse than
 that  of indifferent ones4 ,for the    
charms and qualifications of most of the
  latter1 whether true or false1 are so 
exposed to the eye1 that1 however       
trivial they may be1 they are easily    
discernible at first sight4 ,we  may    
therefore say with truth1 that the      
exertion necessary to produce  perfect  
writing is almost useless for fame4     
,but1 on the other hand1  books         
composed1 like most modern ones1 rapidly
 and without any great  degree of       
excellence1 though perhaps celebrated   
for a time1 cannot fail  to be soon     
forgotten4 ,and many works of recognised
 value are also lost  in the immense    
stream of new books which pours forth   
daily1 before  they have had time to    
establish their celebrity4 ,they perish 
for no  intrinsic fault of their own1   
and give place to other books1 good and 
bad1 which each in turn live their short

 spell of life4 ,so that whereas  the   
ancients could acquire glory in a       
thousand ways1 we can only attain  it by
 one single avenue1 after much more     
exertion than formerly4    ,the books of
 the ancients alone survive this        
universal shipwreck of  all later       
writings4 ,their fame is established and
 confirmed2 they are  diligently and    
repeatedly read1 and are made the       
subject of careful  study4 ,and it is   
noteworthy that a modern book1 if       
intrinsically equal  to any of the      
ancient writings1 would rarely1 if ever1
 give its readers  as much pleasure as  
the ancient work4 ,this for two reasons4
 ,in the  first place1 it would not be  
read with the care and attention that we
  bestow on celebrated writings2 very   
few people would read it twice2  and no 
one would study it 7for none but        
scientific books are studied  until made
 venerable by age74 ,in the second      
place1 the world-wide and  permanent    
reputation of writings1 whether or not  

due to their internal  excellence1 adds 
to their value1 and proportionately     
increases the  pleasure they give2      
often1 indeed1 most of the charm of such
 literature  is simply due to its       
celebrity4    ,this reminds me of some  
remarkable words of ,montesquieu about  
the  origin of human pleasures4 ,he     
says3 ',the mind often creates within   
itself many sources of pleasure1 which  
are intimately dependent on each  other4
 ,thus1 a thing that has once pleased   
us1 pleases us again simply  because it 
did so before2 we couple together       
imagination of the present  and         
remembrance of the past4 ,for example1  
an actress who pleased us  on the stage1
 will probably please us in private     
life3 her voice2 her  manner2 the       
recollection of the applause she        
excited2 perhaps1 too1  her rle of      
princess joined to her real             
character1--all combine and  form a     
mixture of influences producing a       
general feeling of pleasure4  ,our minds

 are always full of ideas subordinate to
 one or more primary  ideas4 ,a woman   
famous for one cause or another1 and    
possessed of some  slight inherent      
defect1 is often able to attract by     
means of this  very defect4 ,and women  
are ordinarily loved less because they  
inspire  affection than because they are
 well born1 rich1 or highly esteemed by 
others4'#a4444    ,often indeed a       
woman's reputation for beauty and grace1
 whether well  or ill founded1 or even  
the mere fact that others have been     
under the  influence of her charms1     
suffices to inspire a man with affection
  for her4 ,and who does not know that  
most pleasures are due to the           
imagination rather than to the inherent 
qualities of the things that  please us8
    ,these remarks refer to writings no 
less than to all other things4  ,indeed 
,i will venture to say that were a poem 
to be published equal  or superior to   
the ,iliad1 and carefully read by an    
excellent judge of  poetry1 it would    

give less satisfaction and appear less  
charming than  the ,greek masterpiece1  
much less would its fame be comparable  
with that  of the ,iliad2 for its real  
merits would not be aided by            
twenty-seven  centuries of admiration1  
nor the thousand reminiscences and other
  associations that connect themselves  
with ,homer's poem4 ,similarly ,i       
affirm that if any one were to read     
carefully either the ',jerusalem' or    
the ',furioso1' without knowing anything
 of their celebrity1 he would be  much  
less pleased than others who were aware 
of their fame4    ,in short1 it may be  
accepted as a general rule that the     
first readers  of every remarkable work 
which in after ages becomes famous1 and 
the  contemporaries of the writer1      
derive less enjoyment from such reading 
than all other people4    ,this fact    
cannot but be very disadvantageous to   
the interest of  writers4      ,footnote
 #a3 ,ex3 ,fragment ,sur le got1 c4     
,,chapter ,,vi4      ,such are a few of 

the obstacles that may prevent you from 
acquiring  glory from the studious1 or  
even from those who excel in knowledge  
and  the art of writing4    ,now there  
are many people who1 though educated    
sufficiently for the  purposes of daily 
life1 are neither writers nor students  
to any very  great extent4 ,they read   
simply for amusement1 and1 as you know1 
are  only capable of appreciating       
certain qualities in literature4 ,the   
chief  reason of this has been already  
partly explained4 ,there is1 however1   
another cause4 ,it is that they only    
seek momentary pleasure in what  they   
read4 ,but the present in itself is     
trivial and joyless to all men4  ,even  
the sweetest things1 as says ,homer1    
',love1 sleep1 song1 and the dance1'    
soon weary us1 if to the present there  
be not joined the hope of  some pleasure
 or future satisfaction1 dependent on   
them4 ,for it is  contrary to human     
nature to be greatly pleased with that  
of which hope  does not form a          

constituent part4 ,and so great is the  
power of hope  that it enlivens and     
sweetens many exertions1 painful and    
laborious  in themselves2 whereas1 on   
the other hand1 things innately         
charming1  when unaccompanied by hope1  
are scarce sufficiently attractive to be
  welcomed4 ,we see studious people     
never tired of reading1 often even  of  
the driest kind2 and they experience a  
constant delight in their  studies1     
carried on perhaps throughout the       
greater part of the day4 ,the  reason of
 this is that they have the future ever 
before their eyes2  they hope in some   
way1 and at some time1 to reap the      
benefit of their  labours4 ,such people 
always have their interests at heart4   
,they do not  take up a book1 either to 
pass time or for amusement1 without also
  distilling from it more or less       
definite instruction4 ,others1 on the   
contrary1 who seek to learn nothing from
 books1 are satisfied when they  have   
read their first few pages1 or those    

that have the most attractive           
appearance4 ,they wander wearily from   
book to book1 and marvel to  themselves 
how any one can find prolonged pleasure 
in prolonged reading4    ,it is clear   
that any skill or industry displayed by 
the writer is  almost entirely wasted on
 such people1 who nevertheless compose  
the  mass of readers4 ,and even men of  
studious inclinations1 having later in  
life changed the nature of their        
studies1 almost feel a repugnance for   
books which would formerly have given   
them intense delight2 and though  still 
able to discern their value1 are wearied
 rather than pleased by  their merits1  
because instruction is not at all what  
they desire4        ,,chapter ,,vii4    
,hitherto we have considered writings in
 general1 and certain things  relating  
to light literature in particular1      
towards which ,i see you are  more      
especially attracted4 ,let us now turn  
to philosophy1 though it  must not be   
supposed that this science is separable 

from the study of  letters4    ,perhaps 
you will think that because philosophy  
is derived from  reason1 which among    
civilised people is usually a stronger  
power  than the imagination or the      
affections1 the value of philosophical  
works ought to be more universally      
recognised than that of poems1  and     
other writings which treat of the       
pleasurable and the beautiful4  ,it is1 
however1 my opinion that poetry is      
better understood and  appreciated than 
philosophy4 ,in the first place1 it is  
certain that a  subtle intelligence and 
great power of reasoning are not        
sufficient  to ensure much progress in  
philosophy4 ,considerable imaginative   
power is also requisite4 ,indeed1 judged
 from the nature of their  intellects1  
,descartes1 ,galileo1 ,leibnitz1        
,newton1 and ,vico would  have made     
excellent poets2 and1 on the other hand1
 ,homer1 ,dante1 and  ,shakespeare might
 have been great philosophers4 ,this    
subject would  require much elaboration2

 ,i will therefore merely affirm that   
none but  philosophers can perfectly    
appreciate the value and realise the    
charm  of philosophical books4 ,of      
course1 ,i refer to their substance1 and
  not to whatever superficial merit they
 may have1 whether of language1  style1 
or anything else4 ,and1 just as men are 
by nature unpoetical1  and consequently 
rarely catch the spirit of a poem or    
discern its  imagery1 although they may 
follow the meaning of its words2        
similarly1  people unaccustomed to      
meditate and philosophise within        
themselves1  or who are incapable of    
deep sustained thought1 cannot          
comprehend the  truths that a           
philosopher expounds1 however clear and 
logical his  deductions1 arguments1 and 
conclusions may be1 although they       
understand  the words that he uses and  
their signification4 ,because1 being    
unable  or unused to analyse the essence
 of things by means of thought1 or to   
separate their own ideas into divisions1

 or to join and bind together  a number 
of these ideas1 or simultaneously to    
grasp with the mind many  particulars so
 as to deduce a single general rule from
 them1 or to  follow unweariedly with   
the mind's eye a long series of truths  
mutually  connected1 or to discover the 
subtle and hidden connection between    
each truth and a hundred others2 they   
can with difficulty1 if at all1  grasp  
and follow his working1 or experience   
the impressions proved by  the          
philosopher4 ,therefore1 they can       
neither understand nor estimate  rightly
 all the influences that led him to this
 or that opinion1 and  made him affirm  
or deny this or that thing1 and doubt   
such and such  another4 ,possibly they  
may understand his ideas1 but they      
neither  recognise their truth nor      
probability2 because they are unable to 
test  either the one or the other4 ,they
 are like those cold and passionless    
men who are incapable of appreciating   
the fancies and imagery of the  poets4  

,and you know it is common to the poet  
and the philosopher to  penetrate into  
the depths of the minds of men1 and     
thence to bring into  light all their   
hidden emotions1 profundities1 and      
secret working1 with  their respective  
causes and effects2 thus1 men who are   
incapable of  sympathy with the poet and
 his thoughts1 are also incapable of    
entering  into the thoughts of the      
philosopher4    ,this is why we see     
daily many meritorious works1 clear and 
intelligible to all1 interpreted by some
 people as containing a  thousand       
undoubted truths1 and1 by others1 a     
thousand patent errors4  ,they are      
attacked in public and private1 not only
 from motives of  malice1 interest1 and 
other similar causes1 but also because  
of the  incapacity of the readers1 and  
their inability to comprehend the       
certainty of the principles1 the        
correctness of the deductions and       
conclusions1 and the general fitness1   
sufficiency1 and truth of the  reasoning

 put forward4 ,it often happens that    
philosophical writings  of the most     
sublime nature are accused of obscurity1
 not necessarily  because they are      
obscure1 but either because their vein  
of thought  is of too profound or novel 
a nature to be easily intelligible1 or  
because the reader himself is too dense 
to be a competent judge of  such works4 
,think1 then1 how difficult it must be  
to gain praise for  philosophical       
writings1 however meritorious they may  
be4 ,for there can  be no doubt that the
 number of really profound philosophers1
 who alone  can appreciate one another1 
is in the present day very small1       
although  philosophy is more cultivated 
than in past times4    ,i will not refer
 to the various sects into which those  
who profess  philosophy are divided4    
,each sect ordinarily refuses to allow  
that there is aught estimable in the    
others2 this is not only from           
unwillingness1 but also because it      
occupies itself with different          

principles of philosophy4               
,,chapter ,,viii4      ,if1 as the      
result of your learning and meditation1 
you chanced to  discover some important 
truth1 not only formerly unknown1 but   
quite  unlooked for1 and even           
antagonistic to the opinions of the day1
 you  must not anticipate in your       
lifetime any peculiar commendation for  
this  discovery4 ,you will gain no      
esteem1 even from the wise 7except      
perhaps  from a very few71 until by     
frequent and varied reiteration of these
  truths the ears of men have become    
accustomed to their sound2 then  only1  
after a long time1 the intellect begins 
to receive them4    ,for no truth       
contrary to current opinion1 even though
 demonstrable  with almost geometrical  
certitude1 can ever1 unless capable of  
material  proof1 be suddenly            
established4 ,time1 custom1 and example 
alone are  able to give it a solid      
foundation4 ,men accustom themselves to 
belief1  as to everything else2 indeed  

they generally believe from habit1 and  
not from any sentiment of conviction    
within their minds4 ,at length  it      
happens that the once-questioned truth  
is taught to children1 and  is          
universally accepted4 ,people are then  
astonished that it was ever  unknown to 
them1 and they ridicule their ancestors 
and contemporaries  for the ignorance   
and obstinacy they manifested in        
opposing it4 ,the  greater and more     
important the new truths1 so much the   
greater will  be the difficulty of      
procuring acceptance for them2 since    
they will  overthrow a proportionately  
large number of opinions hitherto rooted
  in the minds of men4 ,for even acute  
and practised intellects do not  easily 
enter into the spirit of reasonings     
which demonstrate new truths  that      
exceed the limits of their own          
knowledge2 especially when these  are   
opposed to beliefs long established     
within them4 ,descartes1 in  his        
geometrical discoveries1 was understood 

by but very few of his  contemporaries4 
,it was the same with ,newton4 ,indeed1 
the condition of  men pre-eminent in    
knowledge is somewhat similar to that of
 literary  men1 and 'savants' who live  
in places innocent of learning4 ,the    
latter  are not deservedly esteemed by  
their neighbours2 the former fail to be 
duly appreciated by their               
contemporaries4 ,both are often despised
 for  their difference in manner of life
 and opinions from other men1 who       
neither do justice to their ability nor 
to the writings they put forth  in proof
 of it4    ,there is no doubt that the  
human race makes continual progress in  
knowledge4 ,as a body1 its march is slow
 and measured2 but it includes  certain 
great and remarkable minds which1 having
 devoted themselves  to speculation     
about the sensible or intelligible      
phenomena of the  universe1 and the     
pursuit of truths1 travel1 nay sometimes
 flash1 to  their conclusions in an     
immeasurably short space of time4 ,and  

the rapid  progress of these intellects 
stimulates other men1 who hasten their  
foot-steps so as to reach1 later on1 the
 place where these superior  beings     
rested4 ,but not until the lapse of a   
century or more do they  attain to the  
knowledge possessed by an extraordinary 
intellect of this  kind4    ,it is      
ordinarily believed that human knowledge
 owes most of its  progress to these    
supreme intellects1 which arise from    
time to time1  like miracles of         
nature4#a ,i1 on the contrary1 think    
that it owes  more to men of common     
powers than to those who are            
exceptionally  endowed4 ,suppose a case1
 in which one of the latter1 having     
rivalled  his contemporaries in         
knowledge1 advances independently1 and  
takes a  lead of1 say ten paces4 ,most  
other men1 far from feeling disposed  to
 follow him1 regard his progress in     
silence1 or else ridicule it4           
,meanwhile1 a number of moderately      
clever men1 partly aided perhaps by  the

 ideas and discoveries of the genius1   
but principally through their  own      
endeavours1 conjointly advance one step4
 ,the masses unhesitatingly  follow     
them1 being attracted by the not        
inordinate novelty1 and also by  the    
number of those who are its authors4 ,in
 process of time1 thanks to  the        
exertions of these men1 the tenth step  
is accomplished2 and thus  the opinions 
of the genius are universally received  
throughout the  civilised world4 ,but   
their originator1 dead long ago1 only   
acquires a  late and unseasonable       
reputation4 ,this is due partly to the  
fact that  he is forgotten1 or to the   
low esteem in which he was held when    
living2  added to which men are         
conscious that they do not owe their    
knowledge  to him1 and that they are    
already his equals in erudition1 and    
will  soon surpass him1 if they have not
 done so already4 ,they are also his    
superiors1 in that time has enabled them
 to demonstrate and affirm  truths that 

he only imagined1 to prove his          
conjectures1 and give better  form and  
order to his inventions1 almost1 as it  
were1 maturing them4  ,perchance1 after 
a time1 some student engaged in         
historical research  may justly appraise
 the influence of this genius1 and may  
announce him  to his countrymen with    
great clat2 but the fame that may ensue 
from  this will soon give way to renewed
 oblivion4    ,the progress of human    
knowledge1 like a falling weight1       
increases  momentarily in its speed2    
none the less very rarely men of a      
generation  change their beliefs or     
recognise their errors1 so as to believe
 at one  time the opposite of what they 
previously believed4 ,each generation   
prepares the way for its successor to   
know and believe many things  contrary  
to its own knowledge and belief4 ,but   
most men are as little  conscious of the
 increasing development of their        
knowledge1 and the  inevitable mutation 
of their beliefs1 as they are sensible  

of the  perpetual motion of the earth4  
,and a man never alters his opinions so 
as to be conscious of the alteration4   
,but were he suddenly to embrace  an    
opinion totally discordant with his old 
beliefs1 he could not fail  to perceive 
the change4 ,it may therefore be said1  
that ordinarily no  truths1 except such 
as are determinable by the senses1 will 
be believed  by the contemporaries of   
their discoverer4      ,footnote #a3 ,it
 is in the order of ,providence that the
 inventive1  generative1 constitutive   
mind should come first2 and then that   
the  patient and collective mind should 
follow1 and elaborate the pregnant      
queries and illumining guesses of the   
former1--,s4 ,t4 ,coleridge1 ,table     
,talk1 ,oct4 #h1 #ahcj4        ,,chapter
 ,,ix4      ,now let us suppose that    
every difficulty be overcome1 and that  
aided by fortune you have actually in   
your lifetime acquired not  only        
celebrity1 but glory4 ,what will be the 
fruit of this8 ,in the  first place1 men

 will wish to see you1 and make your    
acquaintance2  they will indicate you as
 a distinguished man1 and will honour   
you  in every possible way4 ,such are   
the best results of literary glory4  ,it
 would seem more natural to look for    
such demonstrations in small  than in   
large towns2 for these latter are       
subject to the distracting  influence of
 wealth and power1 and all the arts     
which serve to amuse  and enliven the   
inactive hours of men's lives4 ,but     
because small towns  are ordinarily     
wanting in things necessary to stimulate
 literary  excellence1 they are rarely  
the abode of men devoted to literature  
and study4 ,the people of such places   
esteem learning and wisdom1 and  even   
the fame men seek by these means1 at a  
very low value2 neither  the one nor the
 other are objects of envy to them4 ,and
 if a man who  is a distinguished       
scholar take up his residence in a small
 town1 his  notability is of no         
advantage to him4 ,rather the contrary4 

,for though  his fame would secure him  
high honour in towns not far distant1 he
 is  there regarded as the most forlorn 
and obscure individual in the place4    
,just as a man who possessed nothing but
 an abundance of silver and gold  would 
be even poorer than other men in a place
 where these metals were  valueless2    
similarly a wise and studious man who   
makes his abode in a  place where       
learning and genius are unknown1 far    
from being considered  superior to other
 men1 will be despised and scornfully   
treated unless  he happen to have some  
more material possessions4 ,yet such a  
man is  often given credit for          
possessing much greater knowledge than  
he really  has1 though this reputation  
does not procure him any especial honour
  from these people4    ,when ,i was a  
young man1 ,i used occasionally to      
return to ,bosisio1  my native place4   
,every one there knew that ,i spent my  
time in study  and writing4 ,the        
peasants gave me credit for being poet1 

philosopher1  doctor1 mathematician1    
lawyer1 theologian1 and sufficiently a  
linguist  to know all the languages in  
the world4 ,they used to question me    
indiscriminately on any subject1 or     
about any trifle that chanced to  enter 
their minds4 ,yet they did not hold me  
in much esteem1 and thought  me less    
instructed than the learned people of   
all other places4 ,but  whenever ,i gave
 them reason to think my learning was   
not as extensive  as they supposed1 ,i  
fell vastly in their estimation1 and in 
the end  they used to persuade          
themselves that after all my knowledge  
was no  greater than theirs4    ,we have
 already noticed the difficulties to be 
overcome in large towns  before glory   
can be acquired1 or the fruit of it     
enjoyed4 ,i will now  add that although 
no fame is more difficult to merit than 
that of being  an excellent poet1       
writer1 or philosopher1 nothing is less 
lucrative  to the possessor4 ,you know  
that the misery and poverty of the      

greatest  poets1 both in ancient and    
modern times1 is proverbial4 ,homer1    
like his  poetry1 is involved in        
mystery2 his country1 life1 and history 
are an  impenetrable secret to men4     
,but1 amid this uncertainty and         
ignorance1  there is an unshaken        
tradition that ,homer was poor and      
unhappy4 ,it is  as if time wished to   
bear witness that the fate of other     
noble poets  was shared by the prince of
 poetry4    ,but1 passing over the other
 benefits of glory1 we will simply      
consider  what is called honour4 ,no    
part of fame is usually less honourable 
and more useless than this4 ,it may be  
that so many people obtain it           
undeservedly1 or even because of the    
extreme difficulty of meriting  it at   
all2 certain it is that such reputation 
is scarce esteemed1 if  regarded as     
trustworthy4 ,or perhaps it is due to   
the fact that most  clever half-cultured
 men imagine they either are1 or could  
easily  become1 as proficient in        

literature and philosophy as those who  
are  successful in these studies1 and   
whom they accordingly treat as on an    
intellectual equality4 ,possibly both   
causes combine in their influence4  ,it 
is certain1 however1 that the man who is
 an ordinary mathematician1  natural    
philosopher1 philologist1 antiquary1    
artist1 sculptor1  musician1 or who has 
only a moderate acquaintance with a     
single ancient  or foreign language1 is 
usually more respected1 even in large   
towns1  than a really remarkable        
philosopher1 poet1 or writer4           
,consequently1  poetry and philosophy1  
the noblest1 grandest1 and most arduous 
of  things pertaining to humanity1 and  
the supreme efforts of art and  science1
 are in the present day the most        
neglected faculties in the  world1 even 
in their professed followers4 ,manual   
arts rank higher than  these noble      
things2 for no one would pretend to a   
knowledge of them  unless he really     
possessed it1 nor could this knowledge  

be acquired  without study and exertion4
 ,in short1 the poet and the philosopher
  derive no benefit in life from their  
genius and studies1 except perhaps  the 
glory rendered to them by a very few    
people4 ,poetry and philosophy  resemble
 each other in that they are both as    
unproductive and barren of  esteem and  
honour1 as of all other advantages4     
,,chapter ,x4      ,from men you will   
scarcely derive any advantage whatever  
from your  glory4 ,you will therefore   
look within you for consolation1 and in 
your solitude will nerve yourself for   
fresh exertions1 and lay the  foundation
 of new hopes4 ,for like all other human
 benefits1 literary  glory is more      
pleasing in anticipation than in        
reality1 if indeed it  can ever be said 
to be realised4 ,you will therefore at  
length console  yourself with the       
thought of that last hope and refuge of 
noble minds1  posterity4 ,even ,cicero1 
richly renowned as he was in life1      
turned his  mind yearningly towards the 

future1 in saying3 ',thinkest thou ,i   
should  have undertaken so many labours1
 during day and night1 in peace and     
war1 had ,i imagined my glory was       
limited to this life8 ,far better were  
a life of idleness and peace1 devoid of 
cares and fatigue4 ,no4 ,my soul1  in   
some inexplicable way1 used ever to fix 
its hopes on posterity1 and  looked for 
the dawn of its true life from the hour 
of death4'#a ,cicero  here refers to the
 idea of immortality innate in the minds
 of men4  ,but the true explanation lies
 in the fact that all earthly benefits  
are no sooner acquired than their       
insignificance becomes apparent2  they  
are unworthy of the fatigues they have  
cost4 ,glory is1 above all1  an example 
of this2 it is a dear purchase1 and of  
little use to the  purchaser4 ,but1 as  
,simonides says1 ,i ,sweet hope cheers  
us with its  phantom beauties1 and with 
its vain prospect stimulates us to work4
  ,some men await the friendly dawn1    
others the advance of age1 and others   

more auspicious seasons4 ,every mortal  
cherishes within him hopes of  coming   
good from ,pluto and the other gods1'   
,thus1 as we experience the  vanity of  
glory1 hope1 driven and hunted from     
place to place1 finding  at length no   
spot in the whole of life whereon to    
rest1 passes beyond  the grave and      
alights on posterity4 ,for man ever     
turns instinctively  from the present to
 the future1 about which he hopes much  
in proportion  as he knows little4      
,hence1 they who are desirous of glory  
in life1  chiefly nourish themselves on 
that which they hope to gain after      
death4 ,for the lack of enjoyment in the
 present1 man consoles himself  with    
hopes of future happiness1 as vain as   
that of the present4      ,footnote #a3 
,de ,senectute4        ,,chapter ,,xi4  
,but what1 after all1 is this appeal    
that we make to posterity8 ,the  human  
imagination is such that it forms a more
 exalted conception of  posterity than  
of the men of past or present times1    

simply because we  are totally ignorant 
of the people who are yet to be4 ,but1  
reasonably1  and not imaginatively1 do  
we really think our successors will be  
better  than ourselves8 ,i am of a      
contrary opinion1 and for my part put   
faith  in the proverb that says 'the    
world grows worse as it ages1' ,it were 
better for men of genius if they could  
appeal to their wise ancestors1  who1   
according to ,cicero1 were not inferior 
in point of numbers1 and  far superior  
in excellence to their successors4 ,but1
 though such appeal  would be sure of a 
truer judgment1 it is certain that the  
greatest men  of our day would be held  
in little esteem by the ancients4    ,it
 may be allowed that the men of the     
future1 being free from  any spirit of  
rivalry1 envy1 love1 or hatred1 not     
indeed amongst  themselves1 but towards 
us1 ought to be better qualified than   
ourselves  to pass impartial judgment on
 our writings4 ,for other reasons1 too1 
they may be better judges4 ,posterity   

will perhaps have fewer excellent       
writers1 noble poets1 and subtle        
philosophers4 ,in which case the few    
followers of these sublime influences   
will honour us the more4 ,it is  also   
probable that their control over the    
minds of the people will  be still less 
than that exercised by us4 ,again1 will 
the affections1  imagination1 and       
intellect of men be1 as a rule1 more    
powerful than  they are at present8 ,if 
not1 we shall gain by the comparison4   
,literature is peculiarly exposed to the
 influence of custom4 ,in times  of     
debased literature1 we see how firmly   
this or that barbarism is  retained and 
upheld1 as though it alone were         
reasonable and natural4 ,at  such times 
the best and greatest writers are       
forgotten or ridiculed4  ,where1 then1  
is the certainty that posterity will    
always esteem the  kind of writing that 
we praise8 ,besides1 it is a question   
whether or  not we ourselves esteem what
 is really praiseworthy4 ,for men have  

different opinions about what           
constitutes good writing1 and these vary
  according to the times1 the nature of 
places and people1 customs1  usages1 and
 individuals4 ,yet it is to this variety
 and variability of  influences that the
 glory of writers is subjected4         
,philosophy is even more diverse and    
changeable than other sciences4#a  ,at  
first sight the contrary of this would  
seem to be true2 for whereas  the       
'belles lettres' are concerned with the 
study of the beautiful1  which is       
chiefly a matter of custom and opinion1 
sciences seek the  truth1 which is fixed
 and unchangeable4 ,but this truth is   
hid from  mortals1 though1 as centuries 
go by1 some little of it is revealed4   
,consequently1 on the one hand1 in their
 endeavours to discover it1  and their  
conjectures as to its nature1 men are   
led to embrace this  or that resemblance
 of truth2 thereupon opinions and sects 
multiply4  ,and1 on the other hand1 it  
is due to the ever-increasing number of 

fresh discoveries1 and new aspects of   
truth obtained daily1 that even  these  
divisions become subdivided2 and        
opinions which at one time were         
regarded almost as certainties change   
shape and substance momentarily4  ,it is
 owing to the changeability of sciences 
and philosophy that they  are so        
unproductive of glory1 either at the    
hands of contemporaries  or posterity4  
,for when new discoveries1 or new ideas 
and conjectures1  greatly alter the     
condition of this or that science from  
its present  state1 how will the        
writings and thoughts of men now        
celebrated in  these sciences be        
regarded8 ,who1 for instance1 now reads 
,galileo's  works8 ,yet in his time they
 were most wonderful2 nor could better  
and  nobler books1 full of greater      
discoveries and grander conceptions1  be
 then written on such subjects4 ,but now
 every tyro in physics or  mathematics  
surpasses ,galileo in his knowledge4    
,again1 how many people  in the present 

day read the writings of ,francis       
,bacon8 ,who troubles  himself about    
,malebranche8 ,and how much time will   
soon be bestowed on  the works of       
,locke1 if the science almost founded by
 him progresses in  future as rapidly as
 it gives promise of doing8    ,truly   
the very intellectual force1 industry1  
and labour1 which  philosophers and     
scientists expend in the pursuit of     
their glory1 are  in time the cause of  
its extinction or obscurment4 ,for by   
their own  great exertions they open out
 a path for the still further           
advancement  of the science1 which in   
time progresses so rapidly that their   
writings  and names fall gradually into 
oblivion4 ,and it is certainly difficult
  for most men to esteem others for a   
knowledge greatly inferior to their     
own4 ,who can doubt that the twentieth  
century will discover error in  what the
 wisest of us regard as unquestionable  
truths1 and will surpass  us greatly in 
their knowledge of the truth8           

,footnote #a3 ,compare the following    
from ,h4 ,rogers' ,essay on ,leibnitz3  
,the condition of great philosophers is 
far less enviable than that of  great   
poets4 ,the former can never possess so 
large a circle of readers  under any    
circumstances2 but that number is still 
further abridged by  the fact that even 
the truths the philosopher has taught or
 discovered  form but stepping-stones in
 the progress of science1 and are       
afterwards  digested1 systematised1 and 
better expounded in other works composed
 by  inferior men4        ,,chapter     
,,xii4      ,finally1 you would perhaps 
like to know my opinion1 and decided    
advice  to you1 about your intended     
profession4 ,the question is one as to  
the advisability of your pursuing or    
abandoning this path to glory1  a thing 
so poor in usefulness1 and so hard and  
uncertain both to  secure and retain1   
that it may be compared to a shadow     
which you can  neither feel when you    
hold1 nor yet keep from fleeing away4 ,i

 will tell  you then briefly my true    
opinion4 ,i consider your wonderful     
genius1  noble disposition1 and prolific
 imagination to be the most fatal and   
lamentable qualities distributed by     
,fortune to humanity4 ,but since  you   
possess them1 you will scarcely be able 
to avoid their harmful  influence4 ,in  
the present day there is but one        
possible benefit to be  gained from such
 endowments as yours2 viz41 the glory   
that sometimes  rewards industry in     
literature and study4 ,you know those   
miserable men1  who having accidentally 
lost or injured a limb1 try to make as  
much  profit as possible from their     
misfortune1 which they ostentatiously   
display to excite the pity and          
consequent liberality of passers-by4    
,in the same way ,i advise you to       
endeavour to procure by means of your   
endowments the only possible advantage1 
trifling and uncertain though  it be4   
,such qualities as yours are usually    
regarded as great natural  gifts1 and   

are often envied by those who do not    
possess them4 ,but this  feeling is     
opposed to common sense2 as well may the
 sound man envy  those wretched fellows 
their bodily calamities1 or wish to     
mutilate  himself in the same way1 for  
the sake of the miserable profit he     
might  gain4 ,most men work as long as  
they can1 and enjoy themselves as much  
as their nature will permit4 ,but great 
writers are naturally1 and by  their    
manner of life1 incapable of many human 
pleasures3 voluntarily  deprived of many
 others2 often despised by their        
fellow-men1 save  perhaps a very few who
 pursue the same studies2 they are      
destined to  lead a life like unto      
death1 and to live only beyond the      
grave1 if even  that be granted them4   
,but ,destiny must be obeyed2 duty      
commands us to follow it courageously   
and nobly whithersoever it may lead us4 
,such resignation is especially         
necessary for you1 and those who        
resemble you4          ,,dialogue       

,,between ,,frederic ,,ruysch ,,and     
,,his ,,mummies4      ,chorus of the    
dead in ,ruysch's laboratory4           
,o ,death1 thou one eternal thing1      
,that takest all within thine arms1     
,in thee our coarser nature rests       
,in peace1 set free from life's alarms3 
,joyless and painless is our state4     
,our spirits now no more are torn       
,by racking thought1 or earthly fears2  
,hope and desire are now unknown1       
,nor know we aught of sorrow's tears4   
,time flows in one unbroken stream1     
,as void of ennui as a dream4      ,the 
troubles we on earth endured      ,have 
vanished2 yet we sometimes see          
,their phantom shapes1 as in a mist     
,of mingled thought and memory3         
,they now can vex our souls no more4    
,what is that life we lived on earth8   
,a mystery now it seems to be1          
,profound as is the thought of death1   
,to wearers of mortality4      ,and as  
from death the living flee1      ,so    
from the vital flame flee we4      ,our 

portion now is peaceful rest1           
,joyless1 painless4 ,we are not blest   
,with happiness2 that is forbid         
,both to the living and the dead4       
,ruysch 7outside his laboratory1 looking
 through the keyhole74  ,diamine6 ,who  
has been teaching these dead folks      
music1 that they thus  sing like cocks1 
at midnight8 ,verily ,i am in a cold    
sweat1 and nearly  as dead as           
themselves4 ,i little thought when ,i   
preserved them from  decay1 that they   
would come to life again4 ,so it is     
however1 and with  all my philosophy ,i 
tremble from head to foot4 ,it was an   
evil spirit  that induced me to take    
these gentry in4 ,i do not know what to 
do4 ,if ,i  leave them shut in here1    
they may break open the door1 or pass   
through  the keyhole1 and come to me in 
bed4 ,yet ,i do not like to show that ,i
 am  afraid of the dead by calling for  
help4 ,i will be brave4 ,let us see if  
,i cannot make them afraid in their     
turn4    7,entering47--,children1       

children1 what game are you playing at8 
,do  you not remember that you are dead8
 ,what does all this uproar mean8  ,are 
you so puffed up because of the ,czar's 
visit1#a that you imagine  yourselves no
 longer subject to the laws of ,nature8 
,i am presuming this  commotion is      
simply a piece of pleasantry on your    
part1 and that there  is nothing serious
 about it4 ,if1 however1 you are truly  
resuscitated1  ,i congratulate you1     
although ,i must tell you that ,i cannot
 afford to  keep you living as well as  
dead1 and in that case you must leave my
  house at once4 ,or if what they say   
about vampires be true1 and you are     
some of them1 be good enough to seek    
other blood to drink1 for ,i am  not    
disposed to let you suck mine1 with     
which ,i have already liberally  filled 
your veins4 ,in short1 if you will      
continue to be quiet and  silent as     
before1 we shall get on very well       
together1 and you shall  want for       
nothing in my house4 ,otherwise1 ,i warn

 you that ,i will take  hold of this    
iron bar1 and kill you1 one and all4    
,a ,mummy4 ,do not put yourself about4  
,i promise you we will all be dead      
again without your killing us4          
,ruysch4 ,then what is the meaning of   
this singing freak8    ,mummy4 ,a moment
 ago1 precisely at midnight1 was        
completed for the  first time that great
 mathematical epoch referred to so often
 by the  ancients4 ,to-night also the   
dead have spoken for the first time4    
,and  all the dead in every cemetery and
 sepulchre1 in the depths of the sea1   
beneath the snow and the sand1 under the
 open sky1 and wherever they  are to be 
found1 have like us chanted the song you
 have just heard4    ,ruysch4 ,and how  
long will your singing or speaking      
last8'    ,mummy4 ,the song is already  
finished4 ,we are allowed to speak for a
  quarter of an hour4 ,then we are      
silent again until the completion of    
the second great year4    ,ruysch4 ,if  
this be true1 ,i do not think you will  

disturb my sleep  a second time4 ,so    
talk away to your hearts' content1 and  
,i will  stand here on one side1 and1   
from curiosity1 gladly listen without   
interrupting you4    ,mummy4 ,we can    
only speak in response to some living   
person4 ,the dead  that are not         
interrogated by the living1 when they   
have finished their  song1 are quiet    
again4    ,ruysch4 ,i am greatly        
disappointed1 for ,i was curious to know
 what you  would talk about if you could
 converse with each other4    ,mummy4   
,even if we could do so1 you would hear 
nothing1 because we  should have nothing
 to say to one another4    ,ruysch4 ,a  
thousand questions to ask you come into 
my mind4 ,but the  time is short1 so    
tell me briefly what feelings you       
experienced in body  and soul when at   
the point of death4    ,mummy4 ,i do not
 remember the exact moment of death4    
,the other ,mummies4 ,nor do we4        
,ruysch4 ,why not8    ,mummy4 ,for the  
same reason that you cannot perceive the

 moment when  you fall asleep1 however  
much you try to do so4    ,ruysch4 ,but 
sleep is a natural thing4    ,mummy4    
,and does not death seem natural to you8
 ,show me a man1 beast1  or plant that  
shall not die4    ,ruysch4 ,i am no     
longer surprised that you sing and talk1
 if you do  not remember your death4    
,a fatal blow deprived him of his       
breath2  ,still fought he on1           
unconscious of his death --    as says  
an ,italian poet4 ,i thought that on the
 subject of death you  fellows would at 
least know something more than the      
living4 ,now tell  me1 did you feel any 
pain at the point of death8    ,mummy4  
,how can there be pain at a time of     
unconsciousness8    ,ruysch4 ,at any    
rate1 every one believes the moment of  
departure from  this life to be a very  
painful one4    ,mummy4 ,as if death    
were a sensation1 and not rather the    
contrary4    ,ruysch4 ,most people who  
hold the views of the ,epicureans as to 
the  nature of the soul1 as well as     

those who cling to the popular opinion1 
agree in supposing that death is        
essentially a pain of the most acute    
kind4    ,mummy4 ,well1 you shall put   
the question to either of them from us4 
,if man be unaware of the exact point of
 time when his vital functions  are     
suspended in more or less degree by     
sleep1 lethargy1 syncope1 or  any other 
cause1 why should he perceive the       
moment-when these same  functions cease 
entirely2 and not merely for a time1 but
 for ever8  ,besides1 how could there be
 an acute sensation at the time of      
death8  ,is death itself a sensation8   
,when the faculty of sense is not only  
weakened and restricted1 but so         
minimised that it may be termed         
non-existent1 how could any one         
experience a lively sensation8 ,perhaps 
you think this very extinction of       
sensibility ought also to be an acute   
sensation8 ,but it is not so4 ,for you  
may notice that even sick people  who   
die of very painful diseases compose    

themselves shortly before  death1 and   
rest in tranquillity2 they are too      
enfeebled to suffer1 and  lose all sense
 of pain before they die4    ,you may   
say this from us to whoever imagines it 
will be a painful  effort to breathe his
 last4    ,ruysch4 ,such reasoning would
 perhaps satisfy the ,epicureans1 but   
not  those people who regard the soul as
 essentially different from the  body4  
,i have hitherto been one of the latter1
 and now that ,i have heard  the dead   
speak and sing ,i am more than ever     
disinclined to change my  opinions4 ,we 
consider death to be a separation of the
 soul and body1  and to us it is        
incomprehensible how these two          
substances1 so joined  and agglutinated 
as to form one being1 can be divided    
without great  force and an             
inconceivable pang4    ,mummy4 ,tell me3
 is the spirit joined to the body by    
some nerve1  muscle1 or membrane which  
must be broken to enable it to escape8  
,or  is it a member which has to be     

severed or violently wrenched away8 ,do 
you not see that the soul necessarily   
leaves the body when the latter  becomes
 uninhabitable1 and not because of any  
internal violence8 ,tell  me also3 were 
you sensible of the moment when the soul
 entered you1  and was joined1 or as you
 say agglutinated1 to your body8 ,if    
not1 why  should you expect to feel any 
violent sensation at its departure8     
,take  my word for it1 the departure of 
the soul is as quiet and imperceptible  
as its entrance4    ,ruysch4 ,then what 
is death1 if it be not pain8    ,mummy4 
,it is rather pleasure than anything    
else4 ,you must know that  death1 like  
sleep1 is not accomplished in a moment1 
but gradually4 ,it  is true the         
transition is more or less rapid        
according to the disease  or manner of  
death4 ,but ultimately death comes like 
sleep1 without  either sense of pain or 
pleasure4 ,just before death pain is    
impossible1  for it is too acute a thing
 to be experienced by the enfeebled     

senses  of a dying person4 ,it were more
 rational to regard it as a pleasure2   
because most human joys1 far from being 
of a lively nature1 are made up  of a   
sort of languor1 in which pain has no   
part4 ,consequently1 man's  senses1 even
 when approaching extinction1 are       
capable of pleasure2  since languor is  
often pleasurable1 especially when it   
succeeds a  state of suffering4 ,hence  
the languor of death ought to be        
pleasing in  proportion to the intensity
 of pain from which it frees the        
sufferer4  ,as for myself1 if ,i cannot 
recall the circumstances of my death1 it
  may be because the doctors forbade me 
to exert my brain4 ,i remember1         
however1 that the sensation ,i          
experienced differed little from the    
feeling of satisfaction that steals over
 a man1 as the languor of sleep         
pervades him4    ,the other ,mummies4   
,we felt the same sensation4    ,ruysch4
 ,it may be as you say1 although every  
one with whom ,i have  conversed on this

 subject is of a very different opinion4
 ,it is true1  however1 they have not   
spoken from experience4 ,now tell me1   
did you  at the time of death1 whilst   
experiencing this sensation of pleasure1
  realise that you were dying1 and that 
this feeling was a prelude to  death1 or
 what did you think8    ,mummy4 ,until  
,i was dead ,i believed ,i should       
recover1 and as long as ,i  had the     
faculty of thought ,i hoped ,i should   
still live an hour or two4  ,i imagine  
most people think the same4    ,the     
other ,mummies4 ,it was the same with   
us4    ,ruysch4 ,cicero says#b that1    
however old and broken-down a man may   
be1 he always anticipates at least      
another year of life4    ,but how did   
you perceive at length that your soul   
had left the body8  ,say1 how did you   
know you were dead8444 ,you do not      
answer4 ,children1  do you not hear8444 
,ah1 the quarter of an hour has expired4
 ,let me  examine them a little4 ,yes1  
they are quite dead again4 ,there is no 

fear  that they will give me such       
another shock4 ,i will go to bed4       
,,note4--,frederic ,ruysch 7#afch-agca7 
was one of the cleverest anatomists     
,holland has ever produced4 ,for sixty  
years he held a professorship of        
anatomy at ,amsterdam1 during which time
 he devoted himself to his art4  ,he    
obtained from ,swammerdam his secret of 
preserving corpses by means  of an      
injection of coloured wax4 ,ruysch1 it  
is said1 also made use of  his own blood
 for this purpose4 ,his subjects1 when  
prepared1 looked  like living beings1   
and showed no signs of corruption4 ,czar
 ,peter  visited ,holland in #afih1 and 
was amazed at what he saw in ,ruysch's  
studio4 ,in #agag the ,czar again       
visited ,holland1 and succeeded in      
inducing ,ruysch to dispose of his      
collection of animals1 mummies1 c4      
,these were all transported to ,st4     
,petersburg4 ,ruysch formed a second    
collection as valuable as the first1    
which after his death was publicly      

sold4      ,footnote #a3 ,see note4     
,footnote #b3 ,de ,senectute4           
,,remarkable ,,sayings ,,of ,,philip    
,,ottonieri4#a      ,,chapter ,i4       
,philip ,ottonieri1 a few of whose      
remarkable sayings ,i am about to       
recount1 partly heard from his own mouth
 and partly related to me by  others1   
was born at ,nubiana in the province of 
,valdivento4 ,there he  lived most of   
his life1 and died a short time ago1    
leaving behind him  the reputation of   
having never injured any one either by  
word or deed4  ,he was detested by the  
majority of his fellow-citizens1 because
 he took  so little interest in the many
 things that gave them pleasure2        
although  he did nothing to show that he
 despised those who differed from       
himself  in this respect4 ,he is        
believed to have been1 not only in      
theory1 but  also in practice1 what so  
many of his contemporaries professed to 
be1  that is1 a philosopher4 ,for this  
reason other men thought him peculiar1  

though really he never affected         
singularity in anything4 ,indeed1 he    
once said that a man who nowadays       
practised the greatest possible         
singularity in dress1 manners1 or       
actions1 would be far less singular     
than were those ancients who obtained a 
reputation for singularity2 and  that   
the difference between such a person and
 his contemporaries would  by the       
ancients have been regarded as scarcely 
worthy of notice4 ,and1  comparing ,j4  
,j4 ,rousseau's singularity1 which      
seemed very striking to  the people of  
his generation1 with that of ,democritus
 and the first  ,cynic philosophers1 he 
said that whoever nowadays lived as     
differently  from his contemporaries as 
these ,greeks lived from theirs1 would  
not  merely be regarded as singular1 but
 would be treated as outside the  pale  
of human society4 ,he thought1 too1 that
 the degree of civilisation  reached by 
any country might be estimated from     
observation of the  degree of           

singularity possible in the inhabitants 
of that country4    ,though very        
temperate in his habits of life1 he     
professed ,epicureanism1  perhaps       
lightly rather than from conviction4    
,but he condemned ,epicurus1  affirming 
that in his time and nation there was   
much more pleasure to  be obtained from 
the pursuit of glory and virtue1 than   
from idleness1  indifference1 and       
sensuality1 which things were considered
 by that  philosopher to represent the  
greatest good of life4 ,he said also    
that the ,epicureanism of modern times  
has nothing in common with the          
,epicureanism of the ancients4    ,in   
philosophy1 he liked to call himself    
,socratic4 ,like ,socrates1 too1  he    
often spent great part of the day       
reasoning philosophically with any      
chance acquaintance1 and especially with
 certain of his friends1 on any         
impromptu subject4 ,but unlike          
,socrates1 he did not frequent the shops
  of the shoemakers1 carpenters1 and    

blacksmiths2 for he was of opinion      
that1 though the artisans of ,athens may
 have had time to spend in              
philosophising1 those of ,nubiana would 
starve were they to follow such  an     
example4 ,nor did he1 like ,socrates1   
explain his conclusions by means  of    
endless interrogation and argument2 for1
 he said1 although men in  the present  
day may have more patience than their   
ancestors1 they would  never consent to 
reply to a thousand consecutive         
questions1 still less  to hear their    
answers answered4 ,in fact1 he only     
resembled ,socrates in  his manner of   
speaking1 sometimes ironical1 sometimes 
equivocal4 ,he  analysed the famous     
,socratic irony in the following way3-- 
,socrates was naturally very            
tender-hearted1 and of a most lovable   
disposition4 ,but he was physically so  
unattractive that it is  probable he    
despaired from his youth of ever        
inspiring others with a  warmer feeling 
than that of friendship1 far            

insufficient to satisfy  his sensitive  
and ardent nature1 which often felt     
towards others a  much more lively      
affection4 ,he was courageous in all    
matters of the  intellect1 but seems to 
have been wanting in natural courage1   
and  those other qualities that would   
have enabled him to hold his own in     
public life1 amid the tumult of wars1   
the sedition1 and the license  of all   
kinds1 then characteristic of ,athenian 
affairs4 ,in addition to  this1 his     
ridiculous and insignificant figure must
 have been no slight  prejudice to him  
among people who made little distinction
 between the  good and the beautiful1   
and who were also much addicted to      
banter4 ,thus  it happened that in a    
free city1 full of wealth and the bustle
 and  amusements of life1 ,socrates1    
poor1 rejected by love1 incapable of a  
public career1 yet gifted with very     
great intelligence which doubtless      
intensified the consciousness of his    
defects1 resigned himself to a  life of 

philosophising on the actions1 manners1 
and thoughts of his  fellow-citizens4   
,the irony he used was natural to a man 
who found  himself as it were excluded  
from participation in the existence of  
others4 ,but it was due to his inherent 
nobility and affableness1 and  perhaps  
also to the celebrity he gained by his  
reasonings1 and which  flattered his    
self-esteem1 that this irony1 instead of
 being bitter and  contemptuous1 was    
pleasing1 and expressed in a friendly   
manner4    ,then it was that            
,philosophy1 as ,cicero has well said1  
made her first  descent from heaven1 and
 was led by ,socrates into the towns and
 houses  of men4 ,hitherto occupied with
 speculations as to the nature of hidden
  things1 she now studied the manners   
and lives of men1 and discussed  virtues
 and vices1 things good and useful1 and 
the contrary4 ,but  ,socrates did not   
primarily think of introducing this     
novel feature into  philosophy1 nor did 
he propose to teach anything1 nor even  

aspire to  the name of philosopher1     
which then only belonged to those who   
made  physics or metaphysics the study  
of their lives4 ,he openly proclaimed   
his ignorance of all things1 and in his 
conversation with others simply         
discussed the affairs of his neighbours1
 and the topics of the day4  ,he        
preferred this amusement to the real    
study of philosophy1 or any  other      
science or art2 and being naturally more
 inclined to act than  speculate1 he    
only adopted this manner of life1       
because shut out from a  more congenial 
employment4 ,he was always more willing 
to converse with  young and handsome    
persons than with others2 in this way he
 hoped to  gain at least esteem1 where  
he would far rather have had love4      
,and since all the schools of ,greek    
philosophy are traceable directly  or   
indirectly to the ,socratic school1     
,ottonieri asserted that the flat  nose 
and satyr-like visage of a highly       
intellectual and warm-hearted  man were 

the origin of all ,greek philosophy1    
and1 consequently1 the  philosophy of   
modern times4 ,he also said that in the 
writings of  his followers1 the         
individuality of ,socrates is comparable
 to those  theatrical masks of the      
ancients1 which always retained their   
name1  character1 and identity1 but the 
rle of which varied in each  distinct   
performance4    ,he left behind him no  
philosophical or other writings for     
public  benefit4 ,being asked one day   
why he did not give written as well as  
verbal expression to his philosophical  
views1 he replied3 ,reading  is a       
conversation held with the writer4 ,now1
 as in ftes and public  entertainments1 
they who take no active part in the     
spectacle or  performance soon become   
tired1 similarly in conversation men    
prefer to  speak rather than listen4    
,and books necessarily resemble those   
people  who take all the speaking to    
themselves1 and never listen to others4 
,consequently1 to atone for their       

monopoly of talking1 they ought to say  
many fine and excellent things1         
expressing them in a remarkable manner4 
,every book that does not do this       
inspires the same feeling of aversion   
as an insatiable chatterer4             
,footnote #a3 ,a fictitious personage4  
,,chapter ,,ii4      ,ottonieri made no 
distinction between business and        
pleasure4 ,however  serious his         
occupation1 he called it pastime4 ,only 
once1 having been  idle temporarily1 he 
confessed he had then experienced no    
amusement4    ,he said that our truest  
pleasures are due to the imagination4   
,thus1  children construct a world out  
of nothing1 whereas men find nothing in 
the world4 ,he compared those pleasures 
termed real to an artichoke1 all  the   
leaves of which must be masticated in   
order to reach the pith4 ,he  added that
 such artichokes as these are very rare2
 and that many others  resemble them in 
exterior1 but within are void of kernel4
 ,he for his  part1 finding the leaves  

unpalatable1 determined to abstain from 
both  leaves and kernel4    ,being asked
 what was the worst moment of life1 he  
said3 ,except those  of pain or fear1   
the worst moments are1 in my opinion1   
those spent in  pleasure4 ,for the      
anticipation and recollection of these  
last1 which  fill up the remainder of   
life1 are better and more delightful    
than the  pleasures themselves4 ,he also
 made a comparison between pleasures    
and odours4 ,the latter he considered   
usually leave behind a desire to        
experience them again1 proportioned to  
their agreeableness2 and he  regarded   
the sense of smell as the most difficult
 to satisfy of all our  senses4 ,again1 
he compared odours to anticipations of  
good things2 and  said that odoriferous 
foods are generally more pleasing to the
 nose  than the palate1 for their scent 
originates savoury expectations which   
are seldom sufficiently realised4 ,he   
explained why sometimes he was so       
impatient about the delay of a pleasure 

sure to occur sooner or later1  by      
saying that he feared the enjoyment he  
should derive from it would  be of      
diminished force1 on account of the     
exaggerated anticipation  conceived by  
his mind4 ,for this reason he           
endeavoured in the meantime  to forget  
the coming good1 as though it were an   
impending misfortune4    ,he said that  
each of us in entering the world        
resembles a man on a  hard and          
uncomfortable bed4 ,as soon as the man  
lies down1 he feels  restless and begins
 to toss from side to side and change   
his position  momentarily1 in the hope  
of inducing sleep to close his eyes4    
,thus he  spends the whole night1 and   
though sometimes he believes himself on 
the  point of falling asleep1 he never  
actually succeeds in doing so4 ,at      
length dawn comes1 and he rises         
unrefreshed4    ,watching some bees at  
work one day in company with certain    
acquaintances1 he remarked3 ,blessed are
 ye1 if ye know not your  unhappiness4  

,he considered the miseries of mortals  
to be incalculable1 and that no  single 
one of them could be adequately         
deplored4    ,in answer to ,horace's    
question1 ,why is no one content with   
his lot8  he said3 ,because no one's lot
 is happy4 ,subjects equally with       
princes1  the weak and the strong1 were 
they happy1 would be contented1 and     
would  envy no one4 ,for men are no more
 incapable of being satisfied than      
other animals4 ,but since happiness     
alone can satisfy them1 they are        
necessarily dissatisfied1 because       
essentially unhappy4    ,if a man could 
be found1 he said1 who had attained to  
the summit of  human happiness1 that man
 would be the most miserable of mortals4
 ,for  even the oldest of us have hopes 
and schemes for the improvement of our  
condition4 ,he recalled a passage in    
,zenophon1 where a purchaser of  land is
 advised to buy badly cultivated fields1
 because such as do not  in the future  
bring forth more abundantly than at the 

time of purchase1  give less            
satisfaction than if they were to       
increase in productiveness4  ,similarly1
 all things in which we can observe     
improvement please us  more than others 
in which improvement is impossible4     
,on the other hand1 he observed that no 
condition is so bad that it  cannot be  
worse2 and that however unhappy a man   
may be1 he cannot  console or boast     
himself that his misfortunes are        
incapable of  increase4 ,though hope is 
unbounded1 the good things of life are  
limited4 ,thus1 were we to consider a   
single day in the life of a rich  or    
poor man1 master or servant1 bearing in 
mind all the circumstances  and needs of
 their respective positions1 we should  
generally find  an equality of good     
throughout4 ,but nature has not limited 
our  misfortunes2 nor can the mind      
scarcely conceive a cause of suffering  
which is non-existent1 or which at some 
time was not to be found among          
humanity4 ,thus1 whereas most men vainly

 hope for an increase of the  good      
things they possess1 they never want for
 genuine objects of fear2  and if       
,fortune sometimes obstinately refuses  
to benefit us in the least  degree1 she 
never fails to afflict us with new      
torments of such a  nature as to crush  
within us even the courage of despair4  
,he often used to laugh at those        
philosophers who think that a man is    
able to free himself from the tyranny of
 ,fortune1 by having a contempt  for    
good and evil things which are entirely 
beyond his control2 as if  happiness and
 the contrary were absolutely in his own
 power to accept  or refuse4 ,on the    
same subject he also said1 amongst other
 things1  that however much a man may   
act as a philosopher in his relations   
with  others1 he is never a philosopher 
to himself4 ,again1 he said that it is  
as impossible to take more interest in  
the affairs of others than in  our own1 
as to regard their affairs as though    
they were our own4 ,but1  supposing this

 philosophical disposition of mind were 
possible1 winch  it is not1 and         
possessed by one of us1 how would it    
stand the test  of a thousand trials8   
,would it not be evident that the       
happiness or  unhappiness of such a     
person is nevertheless a matter of      
fortune8 ,would  not the very           
disposition they boast of be dependent  
on circumstances8  ,is not man's reason 
daily governed by accidents of all      
kinds8 ,do not  the numberless bodily   
disturbances due to stupidity1          
excitement1  madness1 rage1 dullness1   
and a hundred other species of folly1   
temporary or continuous1 trouble1       
weaken1 distract1 and even extinguish   
it8 ,does not memory1 wisdom's ally1    
lose strength as we advance in age8     
,how many of us fall into a second      
childhood6 ,and we almost all decrease  
in mental vigour as we grow old2 or when
 our mind remains unimpaired1  time1 by 
means of some bodily disease1 enfeebles 
our courage and  firmness1 and not      

infrequently deprives us of both        
attributes  altogether4 ,in short1 it is
 utter folly to confess that physically 
we  are subject to many things over     
which we have no control1 and at the    
same time to assert that the mind1 which
 is so greatly dependent on the  body1  
is not similarly controlled by external 
influences4 ,he summed up  by saying    
that man as a whole is absolutely in the
 power of ,fortune4  ,being asked for   
what purpose he thought men were born1  
he laughingly  replied3 ,to realise how 
much better it were not to be born4     
,,chapter ,,iii4      ,on the occasion  
of a certain misfortune1 ,ottonieri     
said3 ,it is less  hard to lose a       
much-loved person suddenly1 or after a  
short illness1  than to see him waste   
away gradually1 so that before his death
 he is  transformed in body and mind    
into quite another being from what he   
formerly was4 ,this latter is a cruel   
thing2 for the beloved one1  instead of 
leaving to us the tender recollections  

of his real identity1  remains with us a
 changed being1 in whose presence our   
old affection  slowly but surely fades  
away4 ,at length he dies2 but the       
remembrance  of him as he was at the    
last destroys the sweeter and earlier   
image  within us4 ,thus he is lost      
entirely1 and our imagination1 instead  
of  comforting1 saddens us4 ,such       
misfortunes as these are inconsolable4  
,one day he heard a man lamenting and   
saying1 ,if only ,i were freed from     
this trouble1 all my other troubles     
would be easy to bear4 ,he replied3     
,not so2 for then those that are now    
light would be heavy4    ,another person
 said to him3 ,had this pain continued1 
,i could not have  borne it4 ,ottonieri 
answered3 ,on the contrary1 habit would 
have made  it more bearable4            
,touching many things as to human       
nature1 he held opinions not in         
accordance with those of the multitude1 
and often different from  those of      
learned men4 ,for instance1 he thought  

it unwise to address  a petition to any 
one when the person addressed is in a   
state of  extraordinary hilarity4 ,and1 
he said1 when the petition is such that 
it cannot be granted at once1 ,i        
consider occasions of joy and sorrow as 
equally inopportune to its success4 ,for
 both sentiments make a man too  selfish
 to trouble himself with the affairs of 
others4 ,in sorrow our  misfortune1 in  
joy our good fortune1 monopolises our   
mind1 and erects1  as it were1 a barrier
 between us and matters external to     
ourselves4  ,both are also peculiarly   
unsuitable for exciting compassion3 when
  sorrowful1 we reserve all pity for    
ourselves2 when joyful1 we colour  all  
things with our joy1 and are inclined to
 regard the troubles and  misfortunes of
 others as entirely imaginative1 or else
 we refuse to  think of them1 as too    
discordant with the mind's present      
condition4 ,the  best time to ask a     
favour1 or some beneficial promise for  
others1 is  when the person petitioned  

is in a state of quiet1 happy good      
humour1  unaccompanied by any excessive 
joyfulness2 or better still1 when under 
the influence of that keen but          
indefinite pleasure which results from a
  reverie of thought1 and consists of a 
peaceful agitation of the spirit4  ,at  
such times men are most open to pity and
 entreaty1 and are often  glad to please
 others1 and give expression to the     
vague gratifying  activity of their     
thoughts by some good action4    ,he    
also denied that an afflicted person    
ordinarily receives more pity  from     
fellow-sufferers than from other people4
 ,for a man's companions in  misfortune 
are always inclined to give their own   
troubles precedence  over his1 as being 
more serious and compassionable4 ,and   
often1 when a  man in recounting his    
sufferings thinks he has excited the    
sympathy of  his auditors1 he is        
interrupted by one of them who          
expatiates in turn  on his misfortunes1 
and ends by trying to show that he is   

the more  afflicted of the two4 ,he said
 that in such cases it generally happens
  as occurred to ,achilles when ,priam  
prostrated himself at his feet1 with    
entreaties and lamentations4 ,the tears 
of ,priam excited the tears of          
,achilles1 who began to groan and weep  
like the ,trojan king4 ,this he  did1   
not from sympathy1 but because of his   
own misfortunes1 and the  thoughts of   
his dead father and friend4 ,we         
compassionate others1 he  said1 when    
they suffer from evils we have          
experienced2 but not so when  we and    
they suffer simultaneously4    ,he said 
that from carelessness and              
thoughtlessness we do many cruel  or    
wicked things1 which very often have the
 appearance of genuine  cruelty and     
maliciousness4 ,for example1 he         
mentioned the case of a man  who        
spending his time away from home left   
his servants in a dwelling  scarcely    
weather proof1 not designedly1 but      
simply from thoughtlessness  or         

disregard of their comfort4 ,he         
considered malice1 inhumanity1 and  the 
like to be far less common among men    
than mere thoughtlessness1 to  which he 
attributed very many things called by   
harder names4    ,he once said that it  
were better to be completely ungrateful 
towards a  benefactor than to make some 
trifling return for his great kindness4 
,for in the latter case the benefactor  
must consider the obligation  as        
cancelled1 whatever may have been the   
motive that inspired the  donor1 and    
however small the return4 ,he is thus   
despoiled of the bare  satisfaction of  
gratitude1 on which he probably         
reckoned2 and yet he  cannot regard     
himself as treated ungratefully1 though 
he is so in  reality4    ,i have heard  
the following saying attributed to      
him3--,we are  inclined and accustomed  
to give our acquaintances credit for    
being  able to discern our true merits1 
or what we imagine them to be1 and to   
recognise the virtue of our words and   

actions4 ,we also suppose that  they    
ponder over these virtues and merits of 
ours1 and never let them  escape their  
memory4 ,but1 on the other hand1 we do  
not discern similar  qualities in them1 
or else are unwilling to acknowledge the
 fact4        ,,chapter ,,iv4           
,ottonieri observed that irresolute men 
sometimes persevere in their            
undertakings in the face of the greatest
 opposition4 ,this is even a            
consequence of their irresolution2 for  
were they to abandon their  design1 it  
would be evidence that they had for once
 fulfilled a  determination4 ,sometimes 
they skilfully and speedily carry out a 
resolution4 ,to this they are urged by  
fear lest they should be  compelled to  
cease their task1 when they would return
 to the state  of perplexity and        
uncertainty in which they were formerly4
 ,thus they  strenuously hasten the     
execution of their design1 stimulated   
rather by  anxiety and uncertainty as to
 whether they will conquer themselves1  

than by the goal or the difficulties to 
be overcome before it can be  reached4  
,at another time he said1 with a smile1 
that people accustomed to give          
expression to their every thought and   
feeling in conversation with  others1   
cry out when alone if a fly bite them1  
or if they chance to  upset a glass of  
water2 and1 on the other hand1 they who 
live solitary  lives become so reserved 
that even the presentiment of apoplexy  
would  not induce them to speak in the  
presence of others4    ,he was of       
opinion that most men reputed great in  
ancient and modern  times have obtained 
their reputation through a preponderance
 of one  quality over the rest in their 
character4 ,and a man possessed of the  
most brilliant but evenly proportioned  
endowments1 would fail to  acquire      
celebrity either with his contemporaries
 or posterity4    ,he divided the men of
 civilised nations into three classes4  
,the first  class are they whose        
individual nature1 and partly also their

 natural  human constitution1 become    
transformed under the influence of the  
arts  and customs of urban life4 ,among 
these he included all men who are       
skilful in business1 whether private or 
public1 who appreciate society1  and    
make themselves universally agreeable to
 their fellows4 ,generally  speaking1   
such men alone inspire esteem and       
respect4 ,the second class  are they who
 preserve their primitive nature in a   
greater degree1  either from lack of    
culture or because they are naturally   
incapable  of being influenced by the   
arts1 manners1 and customs of others4   
,this  is the most numerous of the three
 classes1 and is held in general        
contempt4 ,it embraces those who are    
known as the common people1 or who      
deserve to be included with them1 be    
their station in life what it may4  ,the
 third class1 incomparably the smallest 
in numbers1 and often even  more        
despised than the second1 consists of   
those men in whom nature  is strong     

enough to resist and often repulse the  
civilising influence  of the times4     
,they are seldom apt in business1 or    
self-governed in  society2 nor do they  
shine in conversation1 nor succeed in   
making  themselves agreeable to their   
fellow-men4 ,this class is subdivided   
into two varieties4 ,the one includes   
those strong and courageous  natures    
that despise the contempt they excite1  
and often indeed esteem  it more than   
honour4 ,they differ from other men1 not
 only by nature1  but also by choice and
 preference4 ,having nothing in common  
with the  hopes and pleasures of        
society1 solitary in a crowd1 they avoid
 other  men as much as they themselves  
are avoided4 ,specimens of this class   
are  rarely met with4 ,the other variety
 consists of persons whose nature is  a 
compound of strength1 weakness1 and     
timidity1 and who are therefore  in a   
constant state of agitation4 ,they are  
as a rule desirous of  associating with 
their fellows1 and wishing to emulate   

the men of the  cultivated class1 they  
feel acutely the contempt in which they 
are held  by their inferiors4 ,these men
 are never successful in life2 they fail
  in ever becoming practical1 and in    
society are neither tolerable to        
themselves nor others4 ,not a few of our
 most gifted men of modern times  have  
belonged to this division in more or    
less degree4 ,j4 ,j4 ,rousseau  is a    
famous example1 and with him may be     
bracketed one of the ancients1  ,virgil4
 ,of the latter it is said1 on the      
authority of ,melissus1 that  he was    
very slow of speech1 and apparently a   
most ordinary endowed  man4 ,and this1  
together with the probability that owing
 to his great  talents ,virgil was      
little at ease in society1 seems likely 
enough1 both  from the laboured subtlety
 of his style1 and the nature of his    
poetry2  it is also confirmed by what we
 read towards the end of the ,second    
,book of the ,georgics4 ,there the poet 
expresses a wish for a quiet and        

solitary life1 as though he regarded it 
as a remedy and refuge more  than an    
advantage in itself4 ,now1 seeing that  
with rare exceptions men  of these two  
species are never esteemed until they   
are dead1 and are  of little power in   
the world2 he asserted as a general     
rule1 that the  only way to gain esteem 
during life is to live unnaturally4 ,and
 since  the first class1 which is the   
mean of the two extremes1 represents    
the civilisation of our times2 he       
concluded from this and other           
circumstances that the conduct of human 
affairs is entirely in the  hands of    
mediocrity4    ,he distinguished also   
three conditions of old age1 compared   
with the  other ages of man4 ,when      
nature and manners were first           
instituted1 men  were just and virtuous 
at all ages4 ,experience and knowledge  
of the  world did not make men less     
honest and upright4 ,old age was then   
the  most venerable time of life2 for   
besides having all the good qualities   

common to other men1 the aged were      
naturally possessed of greater  prudence
 and judgment than their juniors4 ,but  
in process of time1 the  conduct of men 
changed2 their manners became debased   
and corrupt4 ,then  were the aged the   
vilest of the vile2 for they had served 
a longer  apprenticeship to vice1 had   
been longer under the influence of the  
wickedness of their neighbours1 and were
 besides possessed of the  spirit of    
cold indifference natural to their time 
of life4 ,under such  conditions they   
were powerless to act1 save by calumny1 
fraud1 perfidy1  cunning1 dissimulation1
 and other such despicable means4 ,the  
corruption  of men at length exceeded   
all bounds4 ,they despised virtue and   
well-doing before they knew anything of 
the world1 and its sad truth4  ,in their
 youth they drained the cup of evil and 
dissipation4 ,old age  was then not     
indeed venerable1 for few things        
thence-forward could be  so called1 but 
the most bearable time of life4 ,for    

whereas the mental  ardour and bodily   
strength which formerly stimulated the  
imagination  and the conception of noble
 thoughts1 had often given rise to      
virtuous  habits1 sentiments1 and       
actions2 the same causes latterly       
increased  man's wickedness by enlarging
 his capacity for evil1 to which it lent
  an additional attractiveness4 ,but    
this ardour diminished with age1  bodily
 decrepitude1 and the coldness incident 
to age1 things ordinarily  more         
dangerous to virtue than vice4 ,in      
addition to this1 excessive  knowledge  
of the world became so dissatisfactory  
and wearisome a  thing1 that instead of 
conducting men from good to evil1 as    
formerly1  it gave them strength to     
resist wickedness1 and sometimes even to
 hate  it4 ,so that1 comparing old age  
with the other periods of life1 it may  
be said to have been as better to good  
in the earliest times2 as worse  to bad 
in the corrupt times2 and subsequently  
as bad to worse4        ,,chapter ,v4   

,ottonieri often talked of the quality  
of self-love1 nowadays called  egotism4 
,i will narrate some of his remarks on  
this subject4    ,he said that if you   
hear a person speak well or ill of      
another with  whom he has had dealings1 
and term him honest or the contrary2    
value  his opinion not a whit4 ,he      
speaks well or ill of the man simply as 
his relationship with him has proved    
satisfactory or the reverse4 ,he  said  
that no one can love without a rival4   
,being asked to explain1  he replied3   
,because the person beloved is a very   
close rival of the  lover4    ,suppose a
 case1 he said1 in which you asked a    
favour from a friend1  who could not    
grant it without incurring the hatred of
 a third person4  ,suppose1 too1 that   
the three interested people are in the  
same  condition of life4 ,i affirm that 
your request would have little chance   
of success1 even though your gratitude  
to the granter might exceed the  hatred 
he would incur from the other person4   

,the reason of this is as  follows3 we  
fear men's anger and hatred more than we
 value their love  and gratitude4 ,and  
rightly so4 ,for do we not oftener see  
the former  productive of results than  
the latter8 ,besides1 hatred or         
vengeance is  a personal satisfaction2  
whereas gratitude is merely a service   
pleasing  to the recipient4    ,he said 
that respect and services rendered to   
others in expectation of  some          
profitable return1 are rarely           
successful2 because men1 especially     
nowadays when they are more knowing than
 formerly1 are less inclined to  give   
than receive4 ,nevertheless1 such       
services as the young render to  the old
 who are rich or powerful1 attain their 
end more often than not4    ,the        
following remarks about modern customs  
,i remember hearing from his  own       
mouth3--    ,nothing makes a man of the 
world so ashamed as the feeling that he 
is  ashamed1 if by chance he ever       
realises it4    ,marvellous is the power

 of fashion6 ,for we see nations and    
men1 so  conservative in everything     
else1 and so careful of tradition1 act  
blindly in this respect1 often indeed   
unreasonably1 and against their  own    
interests4 ,fashion is despotic4 ,she   
constrains men to lay aside1  change1 or
 assume manners1 customs1 and ideas1    
just when she pleases2  even though the 
things changed be rational1 useful1 or  
beautiful1 and  the substitutes the     
contrary4#a    ,there are an infinite   
number of things in public and private  
life  which1 though truly ridiculous1   
seldom excite laughter4 ,if by chance a 
man does laugh in such a case1 he laughs
 alone1 and is soon silent4 ,on  the    
other hand1 we laugh daily at a thousand
 very serious and natural  things2 and  
such laughter is quickly contagious4    
,thus1 most things  which excite        
laughter are in reality anything but    
ridiculous2 and we  often laugh simply  
because there is nothing to laugh at1 or
 nothing  worthy of laughter4    ,we    

frequently hear and say such things as1 
',the good ancients1' 'our  good        
ancestors1' c4 ,again1 ',a man worthy of
 the ancients1' by which  we mean a     
trustworthy and honest man4 ,every      
generation believes1 on  the one hand1  
that its ancestors were better than its 
contemporaries2  and on the other hand1 
that the human race progresses as it    
leaves the  primitive state1 to return  
to which would be a movement for the    
worse1  further and further behind4     
,wonderful contradiction6    ,the true  
is not necessarily the beautiful4 ,yet1 
though beauty be  preferable to truth1  
where the former is wanting1 the latter 
is the  next best thing4 ,now in large  
towns the beautiful is not to be found1 
because it no longer has a place in the 
excitement of human life4  ,the true is 
equally non-existent2 for all things    
there are false or  frivolous4          
,consequently1 in large towns one sees1 
feels1 hears1 and  breathes nothing but 
falsity1 which in time1 custom renders  

even  pleasurable4 ,to sensitive minds1 
what misery can exceed this8    ,people 
who need not work for their bread1 and  
who accordingly leave  the care of it to
 others1 have usually great difficulty  
in providing  themselves with one of the
 chief necessities of life1 occupation4 
,this  may indeed be called the greatest
 necessity of life1 for it includes  all
 others4 ,it is greater even than the   
necessity of living2 for life  itself1  
apart from happiness1 is not a good     
thing4 ,and possessing life1  as we do1 
our one endeavour should be to endure as
 little unhappiness  as possible4 ,now1 
on the one hand1 an idle and empty life 
is very  unhappy2 and on the other hand1
 the best way to pass our time is to    
spend it in providing for our wants4    
,he said that the custom of buying and  
selling human beings has proved  useful 
to the race4 ,in confirmation of this1  
he mentioned the practice  of           
inoculating for small-pox1 which        
originated in ,circassia2 from          

,constantinople it passed to ,england1  
and thence became disseminated          
throughout ,europe4 ,its office was to  
mitigate the destructiveness  wrought by
 true small-pox1 which besides          
endangering the life and  comeliness of 
the ,circassian children and youths1 was
 especially  disastrous in its effects  
on the sale of their maidens4    ,he    
narrated of himself that on leaving     
school to enter the world of  life1 he  
mentally resolved1 inexperienced1 and   
devoted to truth as he  was1 to praise  
no person or thing that did not seem    
really deserving  of praise4 ,he kept   
his determination for a whole year1     
during which  time he did not utter a   
single word of praise4 ,then he broke   
his  vow1 fearing lest1 from want of    
practice1 he should forget all the      
eulogistic phraseology he had learnt    
shortly before1 at the ,school of       
,rhetoric4 ,from that time he absolutely
 renounced his intention4      ,footnote
 #a3 ,see ,dialogue between ,fashion and

 ,death1 p4 #ai4        ,,chapter ,,vi4 
,ottonieri was accustomed to read out   
passages from books taken at  hazard1   
especially those of ancient writers4 ,he
 would often interrupt  himself by      
uttering some remark or comment on this 
or that passage4    ,one day he read    
from ,laertius' ,lives of the           
,philosophers1 the passage  where       
,chilo1 being asked how the learned     
differed from the ignorant1 is  said to 
have replied1 that the former possess   
'hopes1' ,ottonieri said3  ,now all is  
changed4 ,the ignorant hope1 but the    
learned do not4    ,again1 as he read in
 the same book how ,socrates affirmed   
that the world  contains but one        
benefit1 knowledge1 and but one evil1   
ignorance1  he said3 ,i know nothing    
about the knowledge and ignorance of the
  ancients2 but in the present day ,i   
should reverse this saying4             
,commenting on this maxim of ,hegesias1 
also from the book of ,laertius1  ,the  
wise man attends to his own interests in

 everything1 he said3 ,if  all men who  
carry out this principle be             
philosophers1 ,plato may come  and      
establish his republic throughout the   
civilised world4    ,he greatly praised 
the following saying of ,bion           
,borysthenes1 mentioned  by ,laertius3  
,they who seek the greatest happiness1  
suffer most4  ,to this he added3 ,and   
they on the other hand are happiest who 
are  contented with least1 and who are  
accustomed to enjoy their happiness     
over again in memory4    ,from ,plutarch
 he read how ,stratocles excited the    
anger of the ,athenians  by inducing    
them on a certain occasion to sacrifice 
as though they  were victors2 and how he
 then replied by demanding why they     
blamed him  that he had made them happy 
and joyful for the space of three days4 
,ottonieri added3 ,nature might make the
 same response to those who  complain   
that she endeavours to conceal the truth
 beneath a multitude  of vain but       
beautiful and pleasing appearances4 ,how

 have ,i injured you1  in making you    
happy for three or four days8    ,on    
another occasion he remarked that       
,tasso's saying about a child  induced  
to take his medicine under a false      
belief1 he is nourished on  deception1  
is equally applicable to all our race1  
in relation to the  errors in which man 
puts faith4    ,beading the following   
from ,cicero's ,paradoxes--,do pleasures
 make  a person better or more          
estimable8 ,is there any one who boasts 
of the  pleasures he enjoys8 he said3   
,beloved ,cicero1 ,i cannot say that    
pleasures make men in the present day   
either more estimable or better2  but   
undoubtedly they cause them to be more  
esteemed4 ,for in the present  day most 
young men seek esteem by no other way   
than pleasure4 ,and not  only do they   
boast of these pleasures when they      
obtain them1 but they  din the          
intelligence of their enjoyment into the
 ears of friends and  strangers1 willing
 or unwilling4 ,there are also many     

pleasures which  are eagerly desired and
 sought after1 not as pleasures1 but for
 the  sake of the renown1 reputation1   
and self-satisfaction that they bring2  
and very often these latter things are  
appropriated when the pleasures  have   
neither been obtained1 nor sought1 or   
else have been entirely  imaginary4     
,he noted from ,arrian's ,history of the
 ,wars of ,alexander the ,great1 that   
at the battle of ,issus1 ,darius placed 
his ,greek mercenaries in the van  of   
his army1 and ,alexander his ,greeks at 
the wings4 ,he thought that  this fact  
alone was sufficient to determine the   
result of the battle4    ,he never      
blamed authors for writing much about   
themselves4 ,on the  contrary1 he       
applauded them for so doing1 and said   
that on such  occasions they are nearly 
always eloquent1 and their style1 though
  perhaps unusual and even singular1 is 
ordinarily good and fluent4  ,and this  
is not surprising2 for writers treating 
of themselves have  their heart and soul

 in the work4 ,they are at no loss what 
to say2  their subject and the interest 
they take in it are jointly productive  
of original thought4 ,they confine      
themselves to themselves1 and do  not   
drink at strange fountains2 nor need    
they be commonplace and  trite4 ,there  
is nothing to induce them to garnish    
their writing with  artificial          
ornamentation1 or to affect an unnatural
 style4 ,and it  is an egregious error  
to suppose that readers are ordinarily  
little  interested in a writer's        
confessions4 ,for in the first place1   
whenever  a man relates his own         
experiences and thoughts simply and     
pleasingly1  he succeeds in commanding  
attention4 ,secondly1 because in no way 
can we discuss and represent the affairs
 of others more truthfully  and         
effectively than by treating of our own 
affairs2 seeing that  all men have      
something in common1 either naturally or
 by force of  circumstances1 and that we
 are better able to illustrate human    

nature  in ourselves than in others4 ,in
 confirmation of these opinions1 he     
instanced ,demosthenes' ,oration for the
 ,crown1 in which the speaker1          
continually referring to himself1 is    
surpassingly eloquent4 ,and ,cicero1    
when he touches on his own affairs1 is  
equally successful2 peculiarly  so in   
his ,oration for ,milo1 admirable       
throughout1 but above all praise        
towards the end1 where he himself is    
introduced4 ,bossuet also is  supremely 
excellent in his panegyric of the       
,prince de ,cond1 where he  mentions his
 own extreme age and approaching death4 
,again1 the ,emperor  ,julian1 whose    
writings are all else trifling1 and     
often unbearable1 is  at his best in the
 ,misopogony 7speech against the beard71
 in which  he replies to the ridicule   
and malice of the people of ,antioch4   
,he  is here scarcely inferior to       
,lucian in wit1 vigour1 and acuteness2  
whereas his work on the ,csars1         
professedly an imitation of ,lucian1  is

 pointless1 dull1 feeble1 and almost    
stupid4 ,in ,italian literature1  which 
is almost devoid of eloquent writings1  
the apology of ,lorenzo  de ,medici is a
 specimen of eloquence1 grand and       
perfect in every way4  ,tasso also is   
often eloquent where he speaks much of  
himself1 and is  nearly always          
excessively so in his letters1 which are
 almost occupied  with his own affairs4 
,,chapter ,,vii4      ,many other famous
 sayings of ,ottonieri are recorded4    
,amongst them is a  reply he gave to a  
clever1 well-read young man1 who knew   
little of the  world4 ,this youth said  
that he learned daily one hundred pages 
of the  art of self-government in       
society4 ,but1 remarked ,ottonieri1 the 
book  has five million pages4           
,another youth1 whose thoughtless and   
impetuous behaviour constantly  got him 
into trouble1 used to excuse himself by 
saying that life is a  comedy4 ,may be1 
replied ,ottonieri1 but even then it is 
better for  the actor to gain applause  

than rebuke2 often1 too1 the ill-trained
 or  clumsy comedian ends by dying of   
starvation4    ,one day he saw a        
murderer1 who was lame1 and could not   
therefore  escape1 being carried off by 
the police4 ,see1 friends1 he said1     
,justice1 lame though she be1 can bring 
the doer of evil to account1 if  he also
 be lame4    ,during a journey through  
,italy he met a courtier1 who1 desirous 
of  acting the critic to ,ottonieri1    
began3 ,i will speak candidly1 if you   
will allow me4 ,i will listen           
attentively1 said the other1 for1 as a  
traveller1 ,i appreciate uncommon       
things4    ,being in need of money1 he  
once asked a loan from a certain man1   
who1  excusing himself on the plea of   
poverty1 added that were he rich1 the   
necessities of his friends would be his 
first thought4 ,i should be  truly sorry
 were you to bestow on us such a        
valuable moment1 replied  ,ottonieri3   
,god grant you may never become rich6   
,when young1 he wrote some verses1 using

 certain obsolete expressions4  ,at the 
request of an old lady he recited them  
to her4 ,she professed  ignorance of    
their meaning1 and said that in her day 
such words were  not in use4 ,ottonieri 
replied3 ,i thought they might have     
been1 simply  because they are very     
ancient4    ,of a certain very rich     
miser who had been robbed of a little   
money1 he  said3 ,this man behaved in a 
miserly manner even to thieves4    ,he  
said of a man who had a mania for       
calculating on every possible  occasion3
 ,other men make things2 this fellow    
counts them4    ,being asked his opinion
 about a certain old terra-cotta figure 
of ,jove1  over which some antiquaries  
were disputing1 he said3 ,do you not see
  that it is a ,cretan ,jove8    ,of a  
foolish fellow1 who imagined himself to 
be an admirable reasoner1  yet was      
illogical whenever he spoke two words1  
he said3 ,this person  exemplifies the  
,greek definition of man1 as a 'logical 
animal4'    ,when on his deathbed1 he   

composed this epitaph1 which was        
subsequently  engraved on his tomb3     
,,here ,,lie                            
,,the ,,bones ,,of                      
,,philip ,,ottonieri4                   
,,born ,,for ,,virtue ,,and ,,glory1    
,,he ,,lived ,,idle ,,and ,,useless1    
,,and ,,died ,,in ,,obscurity2          
,,not ,,without ,a ,,knowledge ,,of     
,,nature                           ,,and
 ,,his ,,own ,,destiny4                 
,,dialogue ,,between ,,christopher      
,,columbus ,,and ,,pietro ,,gutierrez4  
,columbus4 ,a fine night1 friend4       
,gutierrez4 ,fine indeed2 but a sight of
 land would be much finer4    ,col4     
,decidedly4 ,so even you are tired of a 
life at sea4    ,gut4 ,not so4 ,but ,i  
am rather weary of this voyage1 which   
turns out to  be so much longer than ,i 
expected4 ,do not1 however1 think that  
,i blame  you1 like the others4 ,rather1
 consider that ,i will1 as hitherto1 do 
all  ,i can to help you in anything     
relating to the voyage4 ,but just for   

the  sake of some talk ,i wish you would
 tell me candidly and explicitly1       
whether you are as confident as at first
 about finding land in this  part of the
 world2 or if1 after spending so much   
time to no purpose1  you begin at all to
 doubt4    ,col4 ,speaking frankly as to
 a friend who will not betray me1 ,i    
confess ,i am a little dubious2         
especially because certain evidences    
during the voyage1 which filled me with 
hope1 have turned out  deceitful2 for   
instance1 the birds which flew over us  
from the west1  soon after we left      
,gomera1 and which ,i considered a sure 
sign of land  not far distant4          
,similarly1 more than one conjecture and
 anticipation1  made before setting out1
 regarding different things that were to
 have  taken place during the voyage1   
have failed of realisation4 ,so that at 
length ,i cannot but say to myself1     
,since these predictions in which ,i    
put the utmost faith have not been      
verified1 why may not also my chief     

conjecture1 that of finding land beyond 
the ocean1 be also unfounded8  ,it is   
true this belief of mine is so logical1 
that if it be false1 on  the one hand it
 would seem as if no human judgment     
could be reliable1  except such as      
concern things actually seen1 and       
touched2 and on the  other hand1 ,i     
remember how seldom reality agrees with 
expectation4 ,i  ask myself1 ,what      
ground have you for believing that both 
hemispheres  resemble each other1 so    
that the western1 like the eastern1 is  
part  land and part water8 ,why may it  
not be one immense sea8 ,or instead  of 
land and water1 may it not contain some 
other element8 ,and1  supposing it to   
have land and water like the other1 why 
may it not be  uninhabited8 or even     
uninhabitable8 ,if it be peopled as     
numerously as  our hemisphere1 what     
proof have you that rational beings are 
to be  found there1 as in ours8 ,and if 
so1 why not some other intelligent      
animals instead of men8 ,supposing they 

be men1 why not of a kind very          
different from those you are acquainted 
with2 for instance1 with much  larger   
bodies1 stronger1 more skilful1         
naturally gifted with much more  genius 
and intelligence1 more civilised1 and   
richer in sciences and  arts8    ,these 
thoughts occur to me4 ,and in truth1 we 
see nature endowed with  such power1 so 
diverse and manifold in her effects1    
that we not only  are unable to form a  
certain opinion about her works in      
distant and  unknown parts of the world1
 but we may even doubt whether we do not
  deceive ourselves in drawing          
conclusions from the known world1 and   
applying them to the unknown4 ,nor would
 it be contrary to probability  to      
imagine that the things of the unknown  
world1 in whole or part1  were strange  
and extraordinary to us4 ,for do we not 
see with our own  eyes that the needle  
in these seas falls away from the ,pole 
,star not a  little towards the west8   
,such a thing is perfectly novel1 and   

hitherto  unheard of by all navigators2 
and even after much thought ,i can      
arrive  at no satisfactory explanation  
of it4 ,i do not infer that the fables  
of the ancients regarding the wonders of
 the undiscovered world and  this ocean 
are at all credible4 ,annonus1 for      
instance1 said of these  parts1 that the
 nights were illumined by flames1 and   
the glow of fiery  torrents1 which      
emptied themselves into the sea4 ,we    
observe also1 how  foolish hitherto have
 been all the fears of miraculous and   
terrible  novelties felt by our         
fellow-sailors during the voyage2 as    
when1 on  coming to that stretch of     
seaweed1 which made as it were a meadow 
in  the sea1 and impeded us so greatly1 
they imagined we had reached the  verge 
of navigable waters4    ,i say this     
simply because ,i wish you to see that  
although this idea  of mine about       
undiscovered land may be founded on very
 reasonable  suppositions1 in which many
 excellent geographers1 astronomers1 and

  navigators1 with whom ,i conversed on 
the subject in ,spain1 ,italy1 and      
,portugal1 agree with me1 it might yet  
be fallacious4 ,in short1 we often  see 
many admirably drawn conclusions prove  
erroneous1 especially in  matters about 
which we have very little knowledge4    
,gut4 ,so that in fact you have risked  
your own life1 and the lives of  your   
companions1 on behalf of a mere         
possibility4    ,col4 ,i cannot deny it4
 ,but1 apart from the fact that men     
daily  endanger their lives for much    
frailer reasons1 and far more trifling  
things1 or even without thinking at all1
 pray consider a moment4    ,if you1 and
 ,i1 and all of us were not now here in 
this ship1 in the  middle of this ocean1
 in this strange solitude1 uncertain and
 hazardous  though it be1 what should we
 be doing8 ,how should we be occupied8  
,how  should we be spending our time8   
,more joyfully perhaps8 ,more probably1 
in greater trouble and difficulty2 or   
worse1 in a state of ennui8    ,for what

 is implied in a state of life free from
 uncertainty and  danger8 ,if           
contentment and happiness1 it is        
preferable to all others2  if weariness 
and misery1 ,i know nothing so          
undesirable4    ,i do not wish to       
mention the glory and useful            
intelligence that we  shall take back   
with us1 if our enterprise succeed1 as  
we hope4 ,if the  voyage be of no other 
use to us1 it is very advantageous1     
inasmuch as  it for a time frees us from
 ennui1 endears life to us1 and enhances
 the  value of many things that we      
should not otherwise esteem4    ,you    
remember perhaps what the ancients say  
about unfortunate lovers4  ,these used  
to throw themselves from the rock of    
,st4 ,maur 7then called  ,leucadia7 into
 the sea2 being rescued therefrom1 they 
found themselves1  thanks to ,apollo1   
delivered from their love passion4      
,whether or not  this be credible1 ,i am
 quite sure that the lovers1 having     
escaped their  danger1 for a short time 

even without ,apollo's assistance1 loved
 the  life they previously hated2 or    
loved and valued it increasedly4 ,every 
voyage is1 in my opinion1 comparable to 
the leap from the ,leucadian  rock1     
producing the same useful results1      
though these are of a more  durable     
kind4    ,it is ordinarily believed that
 sailors and soldiers1 because          
incessantly in danger of their lives1   
value existence more lightly than  other
 people4 ,for the same reason1 ,i come  
to a contrary conclusion1  and imagine  
few persons hold life in such high      
estimation as soldiers  and sailors4    
,just as we care nothing for many       
benefits as soon as we  possess them2 so
 sailors cherish and value1 very        
greatly1 numerous  things that are far  
from being good1 simply because they are
 deprived  of them4 ,who would think of 
including a little earth in the         
catalogue  of human benefits8 ,none but 
navigators2 and especially such as      
ourselves1 who1 owing to the uncertain  

nature of our voyage1 desire  nothing so
 much as the sight of a tiny piece of   
land4 ,this is our first  thought on    
awaking1 and our last before we fall    
asleep4 ,and if at some  future time we 
chance to see in the distance the peak  
of a mountain1  the tops of a forest1 or
 some such evidence of land1 we shall   
scarcely  be able to contain ourselves  
for joy4 ,once on terra firma1 the mere 
consciousness of being free to go where 
we please will suffice to make  us happy
 for several days4    ,gut4 ,that is all
 very true2 and if your conjecture only 
prove to be  as reasonable as your      
justification of it1 we shall not fail  
to enjoy  this happiness sooner or      
later4    ,col4 ,personally1 ,i think we
 shall soon do so2 though ,i dare not   
actually promise such a thing4 ,you know
 we have for several days been  able to 
fathom2 and the quality of the matter   
brought up by the lead  seems to me     
auspicious4 ,the clouds about the sun   
towards evening are  of a different form

 and colour to what they were a few days
 ago4 ,the  atmosphere1 as you can feel1
 is warmer and softer than it was4 ,the 
wind  no longer blows with the same     
force1 nor in so straightforward and    
unwavering a manner2 it is inclined to  
be hesitating and changeable1 as  though
 broken by some impediment4 ,to these   
signs add that of the piece  of cane we 
discovered floating in the sea1 which   
bore marks of having  been recently     
severed2 and the little branch of a tree
 with fresh  red berries on it2 besides1
 the swarms of birds that pass over us1 
though they have deceived me before1 are
 now so frequent and immense1  that ,i  
think there must be some special reason 
for their appearance1  particularly     
because we see amongst them some which  
do not resemble  sea birds4 ,in short1  
all these omens together make me very   
hopeful and  expectant1 however         
diffident ,i may pretend to be4    ,gut4
 ,god grant your surmises may be true4  
,,panegyric ,,of ,,birds4      ,amelio1 

a lonely philosopher1 was seated1       
reading1 one spring morning  in the     
shade of his country house4 ,being      
distracted by the songs of the  birds in
 the fields1 he gradually resigned      
himself to listening and  thinking4 ,at 
length he threw his book aside1 and     
taking up a pen wrote  as follows3--    
,birds are naturally the most joyful    
creatures in the world4 ,i do not  say  
this because of the cheerful influence  
they always exercise over  us2 ,i mean  
that they themselves are more           
light-hearted and joyful than  any other
 animal4 ,for we see other animals      
ordinarily stolid and grave1  and many  
even seem melancholy4 ,they rarely give 
signs of joy1 and when  they do1 these  
are but slight and of brief duration4   
,in most of their  enjoyments and       
pleasures they do not express any       
gratification4 ,the  green fields1      
extensive and charming landscapes1 noble
 planets1 pure  and sweet atmosphere1 if
 even a cause of pleasure to them1 do   

not  excite in them any joyful          
demonstrations2 save that on the        
authority  of ,zenophon1 hares are said 
to skip and frolic with delight when the
  moon's radiance is at its brightest4  
,birds1 on the other hand1 show extreme 
joy1 both in motion and  appearance2 and
 it is the sight of this evident        
disposition for  enjoyment on their part
 that gladdens us as we watch them4 ,and
 this  appearance must not be regarded  
as unreal and deceptive4 ,they sing to  
express the happiness they feel1 and the
 happier they are1 the more  vigorously 
do they sing4 ,and if1 as it is said1   
they sing louder and  more sweetly when 
in love than at other times1 it is      
equally certain  that other pleasures   
besides love incite them to sing4 ,for  
we may  notice they warble more on a    
quiet and peaceful day1 than when the   
day  is dark and uncertain4 ,and in     
stormy weather1 or when frightened1 they
  are silent2 but the storm passed1 they
 reappear1 singing and frolicking  with 

one another4 ,again1 they sing in the   
morning when they awake2  being partly  
incited to this by a feeling of joy for 
the new day1 and  partly by the pleasure
 generally felt by every animal when    
refreshed  and restored by sleep4 ,they 
also delight in gay foliage1 rich       
valleys1  pure and sparkling water1 and 
beautiful country4444    ,it is said    
that birds' voices are softer and       
sweeter1 and their songs  more refined1 
with us than among wild and uncivilised 
people4 ,this  being so1 it would seem  
that birds are subject to the influence 
of the  civilisation with which they    
associate4 ,whether or not this be true1
 it  is a remarkable instance of the    
providence of nature that they should   
have capacity for flight1 as well as the
 gift of song1 so that their  voices    
might from a lofty situation reach a    
greater number of auditors4  ,it is also
 providential that the air1 which is the
 natural element of  sound1 should be   
inhabited by vocal and musical          

creatures4    ,truly the singing of     
birds is a great solace and pleasure to 
us1 and  all other animals4 ,this fact  
is not1 ,i believe1 so much due to the  
sweetness of the sounds1 nor to their   
variety and harmony1 as to  the joyful  
signification of songs generally1 and   
those of birds in  particular4 ,birds   
laugh1 as it were1 to show their        
contentment and  happiness4 ,it may     
therefore be said that they partake in a
 degree of  man's privilege of laughter1
 unpossessed by other animals4 ,now some
  people think that man may as well be  
termed a laughing animal1 as an  animal 
possessed of mind and reason2 for       
laughter seems to them quite  as much   
peculiar to man as reason4 ,and it is   
certainly wonderful that  man1 the most 
wretched and miserable of all creatures1
 should have the  faculty of laughter1  
which is wanting in other animals4      
,marvellous also  is the use we make of 
this faculty6 ,we see people suffering  
from some  terrible calamity or mental  

distress1 others who have lost all love 
of  life1 and regard every human thing  
as full of vanity1 who are almost       
incapable of joy1 and deprived of hope1 
laugh nevertheless4 ,indeed1 the  more  
such men realise the vanity of hope1 and
 the misery of life1 the  fewer their   
expectations and pleasures1 so much the 
more do they feel  inclined to laugh4   
,now it is scarcely possible to explain 
or analyse  the nature of laughter in   
general1 and its connection with the    
human  mind4 ,perhaps it may aptly be   
termed a species of momentary folly or  
delirium4 ,for men can have no          
reasonable and just cause for laughter1 
because nothing really satisfies nor    
truly pleases them4 ,it would be        
curious to discover and trace out the   
history of this faculty4 ,there  is no  
doubt that in man's primitive and wild  
state1 it was expressed  by a peculiar  
gravity of countenance1 as in other     
animals1 who show  it even to the extent
 of melancholy4 ,for this reason ,i     

imagine that  laughter not only came    
into the world after tears1 which cannot
 be  questioned1 but that a long time   
passed before it appeared4 ,during that 
time1 neither the mother greeted her    
child with a smile1 nor did the  child  
smilingly recognise her1 as ,virgil     
says4 ,and the reason why1 in  the      
present day1 among civilised people1    
children smile as soon as they  are     
born1 is explainable by virtue of       
example3 they see others smile1         
therefore they also smile4 ,it is       
probable that laughter originated in    
drunkenness1#a another peculiarity of   
the human race4 ,this vice is  far from 
being confined to civilised nations1 for
 we know that scarcely  any people can  
be found that do not possess an         
intoxicating liquor of  some kind1 which
 they indulge in to excess4 ,and this   
cannot be wondered  at1 when we remember
 that men1 the most unhappy of all      
animals1 are  above all pleased with    
anything that easily alienates their    

minds1  such as self-forgetfulness1 or a
 suspension of their usual life2 from   
which interruption and temporary        
diminution of the sense and knowledge   
of their peculiar evils they receive no 
slight benefit4 ,and whereas  savages   
have ordinarily a sad and grave         
countenance1 yet1 when in  a state of   
drunkenness1 they laugh immoderately1   
and talk and sing  incessantly1 contrary
 to their custom4 ,but ,i will discuss  
this matter  more in detail in a history
 of laughter which ,i think of          
composing4  ,having discovered its      
origin1 ,i will trace its history and   
fortune to  the present day1 when it is 
more valued than at any previous time4  
,it  occupies among civilised nations a 
place1 and fills an office somewhat     
similar to the parts formerly played by 
virtue1 justice1 honour1 and  the like1 
often indeed frightening and deterring  
men from the committal  of evil4    ,but
 to return to the birds4 ,from the      
effect their singing produces in  me1 ,i

 conclude that the sight and recognition
 of joy in others1 of  which we are not 
envious1 gratifies and rejoices us4 ,we 
may therefore  be grateful to ,nature   
for having ordained that the songs of   
birds1  which are a demonstration of joy
 and a species of laughter1 should  be  
in public1 differing from the private   
nature of the singing and  laughter of  
men1 who represent the rest of the      
world4 ,and it is wisely  decreed that  
the earth and air should be enlivened by
 creatures that  seem to applaud        
universal life with the joyful harmony  
of their sweet  voices1 and thus incite 
other living beings to joy1 by their    
continual1  though false1 testimony to  
the happiness of things4    ,it is      
reasonable that birds should be1 and    
show themselves1 more joyful  than other
 creatures4 ,for1 as ,i have said1 they 
are naturally better  adapted for joy   
and happiness4 ,in the first place1     
apparently1 they are  not subject to    
ennui4 ,they change their position      

momentarily1 and pass  from country to  
country1 however distant1 and from the  
lowest regions  of the air to the       
highest1 quickly and with wonderful     
ease4 ,life to  them is made up of an   
infinite variety of sights and          
experiences4 ,their  bodies are in a    
continuous state of activity1 and they  
themselves are  full of vital power4    
,all other animals1 their wants being   
satisfied1  love quietude and laziness2 
none1 except fishes and certain flying  
insects1 keep long in motion simply for 
amusement4 ,the savage1 for  instance1  
except to supply his daily wants1 which 
demand little and  brief exertion1 or   
when unable to hunt1 scarcely stirs a   
step4 ,he loves  idleness and           
tranquillity above everything1 and      
passes nearly the whole  day sitting in 
silence and indolence within his rude   
cabin1 or at its  opening1 or in some   
rocky cave or place of shelter4 ,birds1 
on the  contrary1 very rarely stay long 
in one place4 ,they fly backwards and   

forwards without any necessity1 simply  
as a pastime1 and often having  gone    
several hundred miles away from the     
country they usually frequent1  they    
return thither the same evening4 ,and   
even for the short time they  are in one
 place1 their bodies are never still4   
,ever turning here and  there1 they are 
always either flocking together1        
pecking1 or shaking  themselves1 or     
hopping about in their extraordinarily  
vivacious and  active maimer4 ,in short1
 from the time a bird bursts its shell  
until  it dies1 save intervals of sleep1
 it is never still for a moment4 ,from  
these considerations it may reasonably  
be affirmed that whereas the  normal    
state of animals1 including even man1 is
 quietude1 that of birds  is motion4    
,we find also that birds are so endowed 
that their natural qualities  harmonise 
with the exterior qualities and         
conditions of their life2  this again   
makes them better adapted for happiness 
than other animals4  ,they have         

remarkably acute powers of hearing1 and 
a faculty of vision  almost             
inconceivably perfect4 ,owing to this   
last they can discern  simultaneously a 
vast extent of country1 and are daily   
charmed by  spectacles the most immense 
and varied4 ,from these things it may be
  inferred that birds ought to possess  
an imagination1 vivid and powerful  in  
the highest degree14 ,not the ardent and
 stormy imagination of  ,dante or       
,tasso2 for this is a disastrous        
endowment1 and the cause of  endless    
anxieties and sufferings4 ,but a        
fertile1 light1 and childish  fancy1    
such as is productive of joyful         
thoughts1 sweet unrealities1  and       
manifold pleasures4 ,this is the noblest
 gift of ,nature to living  creatures4  
,and birds have this faculty in a great 
measure for their  own delight and      
benefit1 without experiencing any of its
 hurtful and  painful consequences4 ,for
 their prolific imagination1 as with    
children1  combines1 with their bodily  

vigour1 to render them happy and        
contented1  instead of being injurious1 
and productive of misery1 as with most  
men4 ,thus1 birds may be said to        
resemble children equally in their      
vivacity and restlessness1 and the other
 attributes of their nature4 ,if  the   
advantages of childhood were common to  
other ages1 and its evils  not exceeded 
later in life1 man might perhaps be     
better able to bear  patiently the      
burden of existence4    ,to me it seems 
that the nature of birds1 considered    
aright1 is  manifestly more perfect than
 that of other animals4 ,for1 in the    
first  place1 birds are superior to     
other animals in sight and hearing1     
which  are the principal senses of life4
 ,in the second place1 birds naturally  
prefer motion to rest1 whereas other    
creatures have the contrary  preference4
 ,and since activity is a more living   
thing than repose1  birds may be said to
 have more life than other animals4 ,it 
follows  therefore that birds are       

physically1 and in the exercise of their
  faculties1 superior to other          
creatures4    ,now1 if life be better   
than its contrary1 the fuller and more  
perfect  the life1 as with birds1 the   
greater is the superiority of creatures 
possessing it1 over less endowed        
animals4    ,we must not forget also    
that birds are adapted to bear great    
atmospheric changes4 ,often they rise   
instantaneously from the ground  far up 
into the air1 where the cold is extreme2
 and others in their  travels fly       
through many different climates4    ,in 
short1 just as ,anacreon wished to be   
changed into a mirror that he  might be 
continually regarded by the mistress of 
his heart1 or into a  robe that he might
 cover her1 or balm to anoint her1 or   
water to wash  her1 or bands that she   
might draw him to her bosom1 or a pearl 
to be  worn on her neck1 or shoes that  
she might at least press him with her   
feet2 so ,i should like temporarily to  
be transformed into a bird1 in  order to

 experience their contentment and       
joyfulness of life4      ,footnote #a3  
,compare ,shakespeare's ,henry ,,iv41   
,part #b1 ,act #d1 sc4 #c4  ,falstaff3  
444 nor a man cannot make him           
laugh2--but that's no  marvel1 he drinks
 no wine4          ,,the ,,song ,,of    
,,the ,,wild ,,cock4      ,certain      
,hebrew savants and writers affirm1 that
 between heaven and  earth1 or rather1  
partly in one and partly on the other1  
lives a wild  cock which stands with its
 feet resting on the earth1 and touching
 the  sky with its crest and beak4 ,this
 gigantic cock1 besides possessing      
other peculiarities mentioned by these  
writers1 has the use of reason2  or     
else1 like a parrot1 it has been taught1
 ,i know not by whom1 to  express itself
 in human fashion4 ,in proof of this1 an
 old parchment  manuscript has been     
discovered1 containing a canticle       
written in  ,hebrew characters1 and in a
 language compounded of ,chaldean1      
,targumic1  ,rabbinical1 ,cabalistic and

 ,talmudic1 entitled ,morning ,song of  
the  ,wild ,cock4 7,scir detarnegl bara 
letzafra47 ,this1 not without great     
exertion1 and the interrogation of more 
than one ,rabbi1 ,cabalist1  theologian1
 jurist1 and ,hebrew philosopher1 has   
been interpreted and  translated as     
follows4 ,i have not yet been able to   
ascertain whether  this song is still   
uttered by the cock on certain          
occasions1 or every  morning1 or whether
 it was sung but once1 or who is said to
 have heard  it1 or if this language be 
the proper tongue of the cock1 or       
whether  the canticle was translated    
from some other language4 ,in the       
following  translation ,i have used     
prose rather than verse1 although it is 
a poem1  in order to ensure as literal a
 rendering as possible4 ,the broken     
style and occasional bombast must not be
 imputed to me1 for it is  a            
reproduction of the original2 and in    
this respect the composition  partakes  
of the characteristics of ,oriental     

languages1 and especially  of ,oriental 
poems4    ,mortals1 awake6 ,the day     
breaks2 truth returns to the earth and  
vain  fancies flee away4 ,arise2 take up
 again the burden of life2 forsake the  
false world for the true4    ,now is the
 time when each one takes again to his  
mind all the thoughts  of his real life4
 ,he recalls to memory his intentions1  
aims1 and  labours2 and thinks of the   
pleasures and cares that must occur     
during  the new day4 ,and every one at  
this time eagerly seeks to discover in  
his mind joyful hopes and sweet         
thoughts4 ,few1 however1 are satisfied  
in this desire2 for all men it is a     
misfortune to awake4 ,the miserable  man
 is no sooner aroused than he falls     
again into the clutches of  his         
unhappiness4 ,very sweet a thing is that
 sleep induced by joy or  hope4 ,these  
preserve themselves in their entirety   
until the following  morning1 when they 
either vanish or decrease in force4     
,if the sleep of mortals were continuous

 and identical with life2 if  under the 
star of day all living beings languished
 on the earth in  utter rest1 and no    
work was wrought2 if the oxen ceased    
bellowing in  the meadows1 the beasts   
roaring in the forests1 the birds       
singing  in the air1 the bees buzzing1  
and the butterflies skimming over the   
fields2 if no voice nor motion          
except-that of the waters1 winds1 and   
tempests anywhere existed1 the universe 
would indeed be useless2 but  would     
there be less happiness or more misery  
than there is to-day8    ,i ask of thee1
 ,o ,sun1 author of day1 and guardian of
 eve2 in the  course of the centuries   
measured out and consummated by thee1   
thus  rising and setting1 hast thou ever
 at any time seen one living being      
possessed of happiness8 ,of the         
numberless works of mortals which       
hitherto thou hast seen1 thinkest thou  
that a single one was successful  in its
 aim of procuring satisfaction1 durable 
or temporary1 for its  originator8 ,and 

seest thou1 or hast thou ever seen1     
happiness within  the boundaries of the 
world8 ,where does it dwell8 ,in what   
country1  forest1 mountain1 or valley2  
in what land1 inhabited or uninhabited2 
in which planet of the many that thy    
flames illumine and cherish8 ,does  it  
perchance hide from thee in the bowels  
of the earth1 or the depths  of the sea8
 ,what living being1 what plant1 or     
other thing animated by  thee1 what     
vegetable or animal participates in it8 
,and thou thyself1  like an             
indefatigable giant1 traversing swiftly1
 day and night1  sleepless and restless1
 the vast course prescribed to thee2 art
 thou  content or happy8    ,mortals1   
arouse yourselves6 ,not yet are you free
 from life4 ,the time  will come when no
 eternal force1 no internal agitation1  
shall awaken  you from the repose of    
sleep1 in which you shall ever and      
insatiably  rest4 ,for the present1     
death is not granted to you2 only from  
time to  time you are permitted to taste

 briefly its resemblance1 because life  
would fail were it not often suspended4 
,too long abstention from this  short   
and fleeting sleep is a fatal evil1 and 
causes eternal sleep4  ,such thing is   
life1 that to secure its continuance it 
must from time to  time be laid aside2  
man then in sleep refreshes himself with
 a taste1  and1 as it were1 a fragment  
of death4    ,it seems as though death  
were the essential aim of all things4   
,that  which has no existence cannot    
die2 yet all that exists has proceeded  
from nothing4 ,the final cause of       
existence is not happiness1 for  nothing
 is happy4 ,it is true1 living creatures
 seek this end in all  their works1 but 
none obtain it2 and during all their    
life1 ever  deceiving1 tormenting1 and  
exerting themselves1 they suffer indeed 
for  no other purpose than to die4      
,the earliest part of the day is        
ordinarily the most bearable for  living
 beings4 ,few1 when they awake1 find    
again in their minds  delightful and    

joyful thoughts1 but almost all people  
give birth to  them for the time being4 
,for then the minds of men1 being free  
from  any special concentration1 are    
predisposed to joy fulness1 and inclined
  to bear evils more patiently than at  
other times4 ,thus a man who falls      
asleep in the anguish of despair is     
filled anew with hope when he  awakes1  
though it can profit him nothing1 ,many 
misfortunes and peculiar  hardships1    
many causes of fear and distress1 then  
seem less formidable  than they appeared
 the previous evening4 ,often1 also1 the
 pangs of  yesterday are remembered with
 contempt1 and are ridiculed as follies 
and vain fancies4    ,the evening is    
comparable to old age2 and on the other 
hand1 the dawn  of the morning resembles
 youth2 the one full of comfort and     
hope1 and  then sad evening with its    
discouragement and tendencies to look on
 the  dark side of things4 ,but1 just as
 the time of youth in life is very      
short and fleeting1 so is the infancy of

 each new day1 which quickly  ages      
towards its evening4    ,youth1 if      
indeed it be the best of life1 is a very
 wretched thing4  ,yet even this poor   
benefit is so soon over1 that when by   
many signs  man is led to perceive the  
decline of his existence1 he has        
scarcely  experienced its perfection1 or
 fully realised its peculiar strength1  
which1 once diminished1 the best part of
 life is gone with every race  of       
mortals4 ,thus1 in all her works1       
,nature turns and points towards  death3
 for old age reigns universally4 ,every 
part of the world hastens  untiringly2  
with diligence and wonderful celerity1  
towards death4 ,the  world itself alone 
seems exempt from decay2 for although in
 autumn and  winter it appears as it    
were sick and aged1 nevertheless in the 
spring  it ever rejuvenates4 ,but just  
as mortals in the first part of each day
  regain some portion of their youth1   
yet grow old as the day progresses1  and
 are at length extinguished in sleep2 so

 although in the beginning  of the year 
the world becomes young again1 none the 
less it perpetually  ages4 ,the time    
will come when this world1 and ,nature  
herself1 shall  die4 ,and as at the     
present day there remains no trace nor  
record of  many very great kingdoms and 
empires1 so in the whole world there    
shall  not he left a vestige of the     
infinite changes and catastrophes of    
created things4 ,a naked silence and an 
utter calm shall fill the vast  space4  
,thus1 this wonderful and fearful       
mystery of universal existence  shall be
 unloosed1 and shall melt away before it
 be made manifest or be  comprehended4#a
      ,footnote #a3 ,this is a poetical 
not philosophical conclusion4 ,speaking 
philosophically1 existence1 which has   
had no beginning1 will have no  ending4 
,,dialogue ,,between ,,timandro ,,and   
,,eleandro4      ,timandro4 ,i am very  
anxious to have some conversation with  
you4 ,it is  about the matter and       
tendency of your writings and words1    

which seem to  me most blamable4        
,meandro4 ,so long as you find no fault 
with my actions1 ,i confess ,i do  not  
much care2 because words and writings   
are of little consequence4    ,tim4     
,there is nothing in your actions1 as   
far as ,i can see1 for which  ,i need   
blame you4 ,i am aware that you benefit 
no one because you cannot  do so1 and ,i
 observe that you injure no one because 
you are unwilling  to do so4 ,but ,i    
consider your speech and writings very  
reprehensible1  and ,i do not agree with
 you that they are of little importance4
 ,our  life may almost be said to       
consist of nothing else4 ,for the       
present  we will disregard the words1   
and simply consider the writings4 ,in   
the  first place1 the incessant         
vituperation and continuous satire that 
you  bestow on the human race are out of
 fashion4    ,mean4 ,my brain also is   
out of fashion4 ,it is quite natural for
 a  child to resemble its father4       
,tim4 ,then you must not be surprised if

 your books1 like everything  contrary  
to the custom of the day1 are ill       
received4    ,mean4 ,that is a small    
misfortune4 ,they were not written for  
the  purpose of begging a little bread  
at the doors of the rich4    8 ,tim4    
,forty or fifty years ago1 philosophers 
used to say hard things  about the human
 race1 but now they do just the         
contrary4    ,mean4 ,do you believe that
 forty or fifty years ago the           
philosophers  were right or wrong in    
their statements8    ,tim4 ,more often  
right than wrong4    ,mean4 ,do you     
think that in these forty or fifty years
 the human race  has changed to the     
opposite of what it then was8    ,tim4  
,not at all4 ,but that has nothing to do
 with the question4    ,elean4 ,why not8
 ,has humanity progressed in strength   
and perfection1  that the writers of    
to-day should be constrained to flatter1
 and  compelled to reverence it8        
,tim4 ,what have such pleasantries to do
 with so grave a matter8    ,elean4     

,then seriously4 ,i am not unaware that 
the people of this  century1 although   
continuing to ill-treat their fellow-men
 as their  ancestors did1 have yet a    
very high opinion of themselves1 such as
 men  of the past century did not       
possess4 ,but ,i1 who ill-treat no one1 
do  not see that ,i am obliged to speak 
well of others against my conscience4   
,tim4 ,you must1 however1 like all men1 
endeavour to serve your race4    ,elean4
 ,if my race1 on the contrary1 does its 
best to injure me1 ,i do  not see that  
this obligation holds1 as you say4 ,but 
supposing you are  right1 what ought ,i 
to do1 if ,i cannot be useful to my     
race8    ,tim4 ,by actions1 perhaps1 you
 may be unable to be of much use4 ,such 
power is in the hands of but few people4
 ,but by your writings you can1  and    
indeed ought to serve it4 ,and the race 
is not benefited by books  which snarl  
incessantly at men in general4 ,such    
behaviour is1 on the  contrary1         
extremely injurious4    ,elean4 ,i admit

 that it does no good1 but ,i also      
imagine it does no  harm4 ,do you1      
however1 think books are able to help   
the human race8    ,tim4 ,not ,i only1  
but all the world think so4    ,elean4  
,what kind of books8    ,tim4 ,many     
kinds2 but especially books treating of 
morals4    ,elean4 ,all the world does  
not think so1 because ,i1 amongst       
others1  do not1 as a woman once said to
 ,socrates4 ,if books of morals could be
  useful to men1 ,i should place poetry 
above all others4 ,i use the word       
poetry in its widest sense1 as including
 all writings1 the aim of which  is to  
excite the imagination1 whether in prose
 or verse4 ,now ,i hold  in little      
esteem that sort of poetry which1 when  
read and meditated  over1 does not leave
 in the mind of the reader a            
sufficiently elevating  sentiment to    
deter him for half an hour from giving  
way to a single  base thought or        
unworthy action4 ,if1 however1 the      
reader commits1 for  example1 a breach  

of faith towards his best friend an hour
 after such  reading1 ,i do not condemn 
the poetry for that1 because then the   
finest1  most stirring1 and noblest     
poetry the world possesses would come   
under  condemnation4 ,exceptions to this
 influence are readers who live in      
great cities4 ,these people1 however    
great their concentration1 cannot       
forget themselves for even half an hour1
 nor are they much pleased1 or  moved1  
by any sort of poetry4    ,tim4 ,you    
speak1 as usual1 maliciously1 and so as 
to leave an  impression that you are    
habitually ill-treated by others4 ,this1
 in most  instances1 is the true cause  
of the ill-humour and contempt exhibited
  by certain people towards their race4 
,elean4 ,indeed1 ,i cannot say that men 
have treated1 or do treat me  very well4
 ,if ,i could say so1 ,i imagine ,i     
should be unique in my  experience4 ,but
 neither have they done me any serious  
harm1 because in  demanding nothing from
 men1 and having nothing in common with 

them1 ,i  scarcely give them a chance of
 offending me4 ,i must confess1 however1
  that recognising clearly1 as ,i do1   
how ignorant ,i am of the simplest      
means of making myself agreeable to     
others1 both in conversation and  the   
daily intercourse of life1 whether from 
a natural defect or fault  of my own1 ,i
 should esteem men less if they treated 
me better4    ,tim4 ,then you are so    
much the more to blame4 ,for1 had you   
even a  mistaken ground of complaint1   
your hatred and desire for revenge      
against men would be in a measure       
justifiable4 ,but your hatred1 from     
what you say1 is based on nothing in    
particular1 except perhaps an           
extraordinary and wretched ambition of  
becoming famous as a misanthrope  like  
,timon--a desire abominable in itself1  
and especially out of place  in a       
century like the present1 so peculiarly 
devoted to philanthropy4    ,elean4 ,i  
need not reply to your remark about     
ambition1 because ,i have  already said 

that ,i want nothing from men4 ,does    
that seem incredible to  you8 ,you will 
at least grant that it is not ambition  
which urges me to  write books1 such as 
on your own showing are more likely to  
bring me  reproaches than glory4        
,besides1 ,i am so far from hating the  
human race1  that ,i neither can nor    
wish to hate even those who particularly
 offend  me4 ,indeed1 the fact that     
hatred is so completely foreign to me1  
goes  far to explain my inability to do 
as other men do4 ,but ,i cannot change  
this1 because ,i always think that      
whenever a man displeases or injures    
another1 he does so in the hope of      
procuring some pleasure or advantage    
for himself4 ,his aim is not to injure  
others 7which can never be the  motive  
of any action1 nor the object of any    
thought71 but to benefit  himself1--a   
natural desire1 and undeserving of      
odium4 ,again1 whenever ,i  notice a    
particular vice or fault in my          
neighbour1 ,i carefully examine  myself1

 and as far as circumstances will allow1
 ,i put myself in his  place4 ,thereupon
 ,i invariably find that ,i should have 
done the same as  he1 and been guilty of
 the same faults4 ,consequently my mind 
loses  what irritation it previously    
felt4 ,i reserve my wrath for occasions 
when ,i might see some wickedness of    
which my nature is incapable2 but  so   
far ,i have never met with such a case4 
,finally1 the thought of the  vanity of 
human things is so constantly in my mind
 that ,i am unable to  excite myself    
about any one of them4 ,hatred and anger
 seem to me great  and strong passions1 
out of harmony with the insignificance  
of life4  ,thus you see there is a great
 difference between ,timon and myself4  
,timon hated and shunned all men except 
,alcibiades1 for whom he reserved  all  
his affection1 because he saw in him the
 initiator of innumerable  evils for    
their common country4 ,i1 on the other  
hand1 without hating  ,alcibiades1 would
 have especially avoided him4 ,i would  

have warned my  fellow-citizens of their
 danger1 exhorting them at the same time
 to  take the requisite steps to        
preserve themselves from it4 ,some say  
that  ,timon did not hate men1 but      
beasts in the likeness of men4 ,as for  
me1 ,i  neither hate men nor beasts4    
,tim4 ,nor do you love any one4         
,mean4 ,listen1 my friend4 ,i am born to
 love4 ,i have loved2 and perhaps  with 
as deep a passion as is possible for    
human soul to feel4 ,to-day1  although1 
as you see1 ,i am not sufficiently old  
to be naturally devoid  of passion1 nor 
even of a lukewarm age1 ,i am not       
ashamed to say that  ,i love no one     
except myself1 by the necessity of      
nature1 and that as  little as possible4
 ,nevertheless1 ,i would always rather  
bear suffering  myself than be the cause
 of it to others4 ,i believe you can    
bear  witness to the truth of this1     
little as you know about my habits4     
,tim4 ,i do not deny it4    ,mean4 ,i   
try to procure for men1 even at my own  

expense1 that greatest  possible good1  
which alone ,i seek for myself1 viz41 a 
state of freedom  from suffering4       
,tim4 ,but do you distinctly confess    
that you do not love the human  race in 
general8    ,elean4 ,yes1 absolutely4   
,but in such a way that if it depended  
on me1  ,i would punish those who       
deserved punishment1 without hating     
them1 as  also ,i would benefit my race 
to the utmost1 although ,i do not love  
it4    ,tim4 ,well1 it may be so4 ,but  
then1 if you are not incited by injuries
  received1 nor by hatred1 nor ambition1
 why do you write in such a  manner8    
,mean4 ,for many reasons4 ,first1       
because ,i cannot tolerate deceit  and  
dissimulation4 ,i may sometimes have to 
give way to these in  conversation1 but 
never in my writings2 because ,i am     
often obliged to  speak unwillingly1 but
 ,i never write unless ,i please4 ,i    
should derive  no satisfaction from     
puzzling my brains1 and expressing the  
result on  paper1 unless ,i could write 

what ,i really think4 ,all sensible     
people  laugh at those who now-a-days   
write ,latin1 because no one speaks1 and
  few understand1 the language4 ,i think
 it is equally absurd to take for       
granted1 whether in conversation or     
writing1 the reality of certain  human  
qualities no longer extant1 and the     
existence of certain rational  beings1  
formerly considered as divinities1 but  
now really regarded as  non-existent    
equally by those who mention them1 and  
those who hear them  mentioned4 ,i could
 understand men using masks and         
disguises in order to  deceive other    
men1 or to avoid being recognised4 ,but 
it seems childish  for them all to      
conceal themselves behind the same kind 
of mask1 and  use the same disguise1    
whereby they deceive no one1 but        
recognise each  other perfectly1 in     
spite of it4 ,let them lay aside their  
masks1 and  retain merely their clothes4
 ,the effect will be precisely the same1
 and  they will be more at ease4        

,besides1 this perpetual simulation1    
though  useless1 and this eternal acting
 of a part between which and oneself    
there is nothing in common1 cannot be   
carried on without fatigue and          
weariness4 ,if men had passed suddenly1 
instead of gradually1 from the  savage  
condition to their present state of     
civilisation1 would the  names of the   
things just mentioned be found in       
general usage1 with the  custom of      
deducing from them a thousand           
philosophical conclusions8 ,in  truth1  
this custom seems to me like one of     
those ceremonies and ancient  practices 
so incompatible with our present habits1
 which nevertheless  continue to exist  
by force of usage4 ,i for my part cannot
 submit to  these ceremonies2 and ,i    
write in the language of modern times1  
not  that of the ,trojan era4 ,in the   
second place1 ,i do not so much1 in my  
writings1 find fault with the human     
race1 as grieve over its destiny4       
,there is nothing ,i think more clear   

and palpable than the necessary         
unhappiness of all living beings4 ,if   
this unhappiness be not a fact1  then   
all my arguments are wrong1 and we may  
abandon the discussion4  ,if it be true1
 why may ,i not lament openly and       
freely1 and say that  ,i suffer8        
,doubtless1 if ,i did nothing but weep  
incessantly 7this  is the third cause   
which moves me71 ,i should become a     
nuisance to  others as well as myself1  
without profiting any one4 ,but in      
laughing  at our misfortunes1 we do much
 to remedy them4 ,i endeavour therefore 
to persuade others to profit in this    
way1 as ,i have done4 ,whether ,i       
succeed or not1 ,i feel assured that    
such laughter is the only solace  and   
remedy that can be found4 ,the poets say
 that despair has always a  smile on its
 lips4    ,but you must not think that  
,i am devoid of compassion for the      
unhappiness of humanity4 ,its condition 
is incurable by art1 industry1  or      
anything else1 therefore ,i consider it 

far more manly and consistent  with a   
magnanimous despair to laugh at our     
common woes1 than to  sigh1 weep1 and   
moan with others1 thereby encouraging   
them in their  lamentations4    ,lastly1
 permit me to say that ,i desire as much
 as you1 or any one else1  the welfare  
of my race in general1 but ,i am        
hopeless of its attainment2  nor can ,i1
 like so many philosophers of this      
century1 nourish and  soothe my mind    
with anticipations of good4 ,my despair 
is absolute1  unchangeable1 and so based
 on firm judgment and conviction1 that  
,i  cannot imagine such a thing as a    
joyous future1 nor can ,i undertake     
anything with the hope of bringing it to
 completion4 ,and you are well  aware   
that man is never inclined to attempt   
what he knows or thinks  cannot succeed2
 or if he does1 he acts feebly and      
without confidence4  ,similarly a       
writer1 who expresses himself contrary  
to his real opinion1  though this be    
erroneous1 utters nothing worthy of     

consideration4    ,tim4 ,but when his   
judgment is1 like yours1 a false one1 he
 should  rectify it4    ,elean4 ,my     
judgment is of myself alone1 and ,i am  
quite sure ,i do  not err in announcing 
my unhappiness4 ,if other men are happy1
 ,i  congratulate them with all my      
heart4 ,i know also that death alone can
  deliver me from my misfortune4 ,if    
others are more hopeful1 ,i rejoice     
once again4    ,tim4 ,we are all        
unhappy1 and have always been so4 ,i    
scarcely think  you can take credit for 
the novelty of your idea4 ,but man's    
present  condition1 superior as it is to
 his past1 will be greatly improved in  
the future4 ,you forget1 or seem to     
disregard the fact1 that man is         
perfectible4    ,elean4 ,perfectible he 
may be4 ,but that he is capable of      
perfection1  which is of more           
importance1 ,i know not who can convince
 me4    ,tim4 ,he has not yet had time  
to reach perfection4 ,ultimately he will
  no doubt attain to it4    ,elean4 ,i  

do not doubt it4 ,the few years that    
have passed since the  world began are1 
,i agree with you1 quite insufficient to
 complete  our education4 ,we cannot    
judge from what seem to us the nature   
and  capabilities of man4 ,besides1     
humanity hitherto has been too occupied 
with other business to give itself up to
 the task of attaining  perfection4 ,but
 in future all its endeavours will be   
towards this one  aim4    ,tim4 ,yes1   
the whole civilised world is working    
zealously towards  this end4 ,and1      
taking into consideration the number and
 sufficiency  of the means employed1    
which have indeed recently increased in 
an  astounding manner1 we have every    
reason to think that the goal will be   
reached1 sooner or later4 ,this         
conviction itself is by no means one  of
 the least stimulants to progress1      
because it gives birth to a host  of    
undertakings and labours useful for the 
common welfare4 ,if1 then1  at any time 
it was fatal and blmable to manifest    

despair like yours1  and to teach men   
such doctrines as the absolute necessity
 of their  wretchedness1 the vanity of  
life1 the insignificance of their race1 
and  the evil of their nature1 much more
 is it so in the present day4 ,such     
conduct can only result in depriving us 
of courage1 and that feeling of         
self-esteem which is the foundation of  
an honest1 useful1 and glorious  life2  
it will also divert us from the path of 
our own welfare4    ,elean4 ,kindly say 
distinctly1 whether or not you regard as
 true what  ,i have said about the      
unhappiness of mankind4    ,tim4 ,you   
return to your old argument4 ,well1     
supposing ,i admit the  truth of what   
you say1 how does that alter the matter8
 ,i would remind  you that it is not    
always well to preach truth simply      
because it is  truth4    ,elean4 ,answer
 me another question4 ,are these truths1
 which ,i merely  express1 without any  
pretence of preaching1 of primary or    
secondary  importance in philosophy8    

,tim4 ,in my opinion they are the very  
essence of all philosophy4    ,elean4   
,in that case1 they greatly deceive     
themselves who affirm that  man's       
perfection consists in complete         
knowledge of the truth2 that his        
misfortunes are the consequence of his  
ignorance and prejudices2 and  that the 
human race will be happy when men have  
discovered the truth1  and conform their
 lives to its teaching4 ,yet such       
doctrines are taught  by most           
philosophers1 ancient and modern4 ,but  
you are of opinion that  these truths1  
though confessedly the substance of all 
philosophy1  ought to be concealed from 
the majority of men4 ,you would rather  
that  they were unknown or disregarded  
by all men1 because of the baneful      
influence they exercise over the mind4  
,and this is equivalent to an  admission
 that philosophy ought to be banished   
from the earth4 ,i grant  you1 however1 
that the final conclusion to be drawn   
from true and  perfect philosophy is    

that it were better to dispense with    
philosophy4  ,it would therefore seem   
that1 first of all1 philosophy is       
superfluous1  since its conclusions are 
attainable without its assistance2      
secondly1  it is extremely injurious1   
because its conclusion is a very painful
  one to be accepted1 and when accepted 
is useless3 nor is it in man's  power to
 disregard truths once recognised4      
,besides1 the habit of  philosophising  
is one of the most difficult habits to  
throw off4 ,thus1  philosophy which at  
first inspires hope as a possible remedy
 for the  ills of humanity1 ends by     
seeking in vain a cure for itself4 ,and 
now  ,i would ask you why you imagine we
 are nearer perfection than our         
ancestors were8 ,is it that we are      
better acquainted with the truth8  ,this
 cannot be1 since we have seen that such
 knowledge is extremely  prejudicial to 
man's happiness4 ,perhaps1 however1 it  
is because some  few men in the present 
day have learnt that the truest         

philosopher  is he who abstains from    
philosophy8 ,but in what then are we    
superior  to the men of primitive times1
 who were perfectly unacquainted  with  
philosophy8 ,and even in the present day
 savages abstain from  philosophy1      
without feeling the least inconvenience4
    ,in what1 therefore1 are we more    
advanced than our ancestors2 and what   
means of attaining perfection do we     
possess1 which they had not8    ,tim4   
,we have many of great importance4 ,to  
explain them would be a  work of        
considerable time4    ,elean4 ,put them 
aside for the moment1 and reconsider my 
theory4 ,i  say that if1 on the one     
hand1 ,i express in my writings certain 
hard  and bitter truths1 whether to     
relieve my mind1 or console myself  in  
laughing at them1 ,i do not fail at the 
same time to deplore and  disadvise the 
search after that cold and miserable    
truth1 acquaintance  with which reduces 
us to a state of either indifference and
 hypocrisy1  or baseness of soul1 moral 

corruption1 and depravity4 ,and1 on the 
other  hand1 ,i praise and exalt those  
noble1 if false ideas1 which give birth 
to high-minded and vigorous actions and 
thoughts1 such as further the  welfare  
of mankind1 or individuals2 those       
glorious illusions1 vain  though they   
be1 which give value to life1 and which 
are natural to  the soul2 in short1 the 
superstitions of antiquity1 distinct    
from the  errors of barbarism4 ,these   
latter should be rooted out1 but the    
former  respected4 ,civilisation and    
philosophy having exceeded their natural
  bounds1 as is usual with all things   
pertaining to humanity1 have drawn  us  
from one state of barbarism only to     
precipitate us into another1 no  better 
than the first4 ,this new barbarism1    
born of reason and science  instead of  
ignorance1 manifests itself more in the 
mind than the body4  ,yet ,i imagine1   
that though these superstitions become  
daily more  necessary for the well-being
 of civilised nations1 the possibility  

of  their re-introduction diminishes    
daily4    ,and as for man's perfection1 
,i assure you if ,i had perceived any   
signs  of it1 ,i would have written a   
volume in praise of the human race4 ,but
  since ,i have not yet seen it1 and as 
it is improbable ,i ever shall  see it1 
,i think of leaving in my will a certain
 sum of money for the  purpose of       
procuring an annual panegyric of the    
human race1 to be  publicly recited from
 the time of its perfection1 and to pay 
for the  erection of a temple1 statue1  
or monument1 as may be judged best1 to  
commemorate the event4                  
,,copernicus3      ,a ,,dialogue ,,in   
,,four ,,scenes4      ,scene ,i4--,the  
,first ,hour and the ,sun4      ,first  
,hour4 ,good day1 ,excellency4    ,sun4 
,thanks2 good-night as well4    ,first  
,hour4 ,the horses are waiting1 your    
,excellency4    ,sun4 ,very well4       
,first ,hour4 ,and the ,morning ,star   
has been up some time4    ,sun4 ,all    
right4 ,let it rise and set1 just as it 

pleases4    ,first ,hour4 ,what do ,i   
hear your ,excellency say8    ,sun4 ,i  
wish you would leave me alone4    ,first
 ,hour4 ,but1 ,excellency1 the night has
 already lasted so long1  that it can   
last no longer2 and if we delay1        
imagine1 ,excellency1 the  confusion    
that will ensue4    ,sun4 ,i don't mean 
to stir1 whatever happens4    ,first    
,hour4#j ,excellency6 what is this8     
,does your ,excellency feel ill8        
,sun4 ,no1 no2 ,i feel nothing1 except  
that ,i don't wish to move4 ,so you  can
 go and attend to your own affairs4     
,first ,hour4 ,how can ,i go unless your
 ,excellency comes8 ,i am the first     
,hour of the day1 and how can the day   
exist1 if your ,excellency does not     
deign to go forth as usual8    ,sun4 ,if
 you will not be of the day1 you shall  
be of the night2 or  better1 the hours  
of the night shall do double duty1 and  
you and your  companions shall be idle4 
,for you must know ,i am tired of this  
eternal  going round to give light to a 

race of little animals that live far    
away in a ball of clay1 so small that   
,i1 who have good sight1 cannot  see it4
 ,during the night ,i have decided not  
to trouble myself any more  in this     
fashion4 ,if men want light1 let them   
make their own fires for  the purpose1  
or provide it in some other way4        
,first ,hour4 ,but1 ,excellency1 how can
 the little fellows manage that8  ,it   
will be a very great expense for them to
 keep lanterns or candles  burning all  
day long4 ,if only they could now       
discover a certain  atmosphere to warm  
and illumine their streets1 rooms1      
shops1 taverns1  and everything else at 
little expense1 then they would not be  
so badly  off4 ,but men will have to    
wait some three hundred years1 more or  
less1  before they discover this2 and   
meanwhile1 all the oil1 wax1 pitch1 and 
tallow of the earth will be exhausted1  
and they will have nothing more  to     
burn4    ,sun4 ,let them hunt the       
will-o-the-wisp1 and catch those shining

  things called glow-worms4    ,first   
,hour4 ,and how will they protect       
themselves against the cold8  ,for      
without the assistance of your          
,excellency1 all the forests together   
will not make a fire large enough to    
warm them4 ,besides1 they will also  die
 of hunger1 since the earth will no     
longer bring forth its fruits4  ,and so1
 after a few years1 the seed of the poor
 little folk will be  lost4 ,they will  
go groping about the earth1 seeking food
 and warmth1  until having consumed     
every possible thing1 and used up the   
last  flicker of fire1 they will all die
 in the darkness1 frozen like pieces  of
 rock-crystal4    ,sun4 ,what is this to
 do with me8 ,am ,i the nurse of the    
human race2 or  the cook1 that ,i should
 look after the preparation of their    
food8 ,and  why need ,i care if a few   
invisible little creatures1 millions of 
miles  away from me1 are unable to see1 
or bear the cold1 when deprived of  my  
light and warmth8 ,besides1 even        

supposing1 as you say1 that ,i ought  to
 act the part of stove or fireplace to  
this human family1 surely it  is more   
reasonable1 if men want to warm         
themselves1 that they should  come to   
the stove1 than that the stove should go
 whirling round them4  ,therefore1 if   
the ,earth requires me1 let it come     
hither to satisfy its  needs4 ,i want   
nothing from the ,earth1 that ,i should 
thus trouble myself  to rotate round it4
    ,first ,hour4 ,your ,excellency     
means1 if ,i understand rightly1 that   
henceforth the ,earth must do for itself
 that which hitherto you have  done on  
its behalf4    ,sun4 ,yes3 now and for  
the future4    ,first ,hour4 ,well1 your
 ,excellency knows best what is right1  
and can  do as it pleases you4 ,but     
nevertheless1 will your ,excellency     
deign to  think what a number of        
beautiful and useful things will be     
destroyed  by this new decree4 ,the day 
will be deprived of its handsome gilded 
chariot1 and beautiful horses1 which    

bathe themselves in the sea4  ,amongst  
other changes1 we poor ,hours must      
suffer2 we shall no longer  have a place
 in heaven1 but shall have to descend   
from our position  as celestial children
 to that of terrestrials1 unless1 as is 
more  probable1 we dissolve into thin   
air instead4 ,but be that as it may1 the
  difficulty will be to persuade the    
,earth to go round1 necessarily a  hard 
thing1 because it is unaccustomed to do 
so2 and the experience of  rotating and 
exerting itself incessantly will be all 
the more strange1  seeing that hitherto 
it has never stirred from its present   
position4  ,if1 then1 your ,excellency  
now begins to think of idleness1 ,i fear
 the  ,earth will be as little desirous 
of bestirring itself as ever it was4    
,sun4 ,in that case1 it must be pricked1
 and made to bestir itself  as much as  
is necessary4 ,but the quickest and     
surest way is to find  a poet1 or1      
better1 a philosopher1 who will persuade
 the ,earth to  move itself1 or         

persuasion being unsuccessful1 will use 
force4 ,for  philosophers and poets     
ordinarily manage these affairs4 ,when  
,i was  younger ,i used to have a great 
esteem for the poets1 though they       
rather caricatured me in representing me
 racing madly1 great and  stout as ,i   
am1 round and round a grain of sand1    
simply for the sake  of amusement or    
exercise4 ,but now that ,i am older1 ,i 
am more partial  to philosophy4 ,i study
 to discern the utility1 not the beauty 
of  things1 and poetry seems to me      
either absurd or wearisome4 ,i wish1    
also1 to have good substantial reasons  
for whatever ,i do4 ,now1 ,i see  no    
reason why ,i should value a life of    
activity more than a life of  ease and  
idleness4 ,i have determined1 therefore1
 in future1 to leave  the fatigues and  
discomforts to others1 and for my own   
part to live  quietly at home1 without  
undertaking business of any kind4 ,this 
change  in me is partly due to my age1  
but has chiefly been brought about by   

the philosophers1 a race of people whose
 power and influence increase  daily4   
,consequently1 to induce the ,earth to  
rotate in my place1 a poet  would       
intrinsically be better than a          
philosopher3 because the poets  are     
accustomed to give a fictitious value to
 things by exaggerating  the truth1     
beauty1 and utility of subjects about   
which they treat1 and  because by       
raising a thousand pleasurable hopes1   
they often incite  people to fatigues   
they would else have avoided2 whereas   
philosophers  weary them4 ,but1 now that
 the power of philosophers is so        
predominant1  ,i doubt whether a poet   
would be of much use1 if even the ,earth
 gave him  a hearing4 ,therefore1 we had
 better have recourse to a philosopher4 
,it is true1 philosophers are usually   
little suited1 and still less  inclined1
 to stimulate other people to exertions2
 but possibly in so  extreme a case1    
they may be induced to act contrary to  
custom4 ,the  ,earth has1 however1 one  

alternative2 it has the option of       
declining to  undertake all this hard   
labour4 ,its destruction will then      
ensue1 and  ,i am far from sure that    
this would not be the best thing for it4
 ,but  enough of this3 we shall see what
 will take place4 ,now1 either you or   
one of your companions had better go at 
once to the ,earth4 ,if there you       
discover any one of these philosophers  
in the open air1 regarding the  heavens1
 and wondering about the cause of this  
protracted night1 as  well he may1 take 
charge of him1 and bring him hither on  
your back4 ,do  you clearly understand8 
,first ,hour4 ,yes1 ,excellency4 ,you   
shall be obeyed4        ,scene          
,,ii4--,copernicus pacing the terrace of
 his house1 with his eyes  anxiously    
directed towards the eastern horizon4 ,a
 roll of paper in his  hand1 which ever 
and anon he uses as a telescope4        
,this is a marvellous thing4 ,either the
 clocks are all wrong1 or else  the sun 
should have risen more than an hour ago4

 ,yet not a gleam of  light is to be    
seen in the east1 though the sky is as  
bright and clear  as a mirror4 ,all the 
stars shine as if it were midnight4 ,i  
must go and  consult the ,almagest and  
,sacrobosco1 and see what they say about
 this  event4 ,i have often heard talk  
of the night ,jove passed with the wife 
of ,amphitryon1 and ,i also remember    
reading a little while ago1 in a  modern
 ,spanish book1 that the ,peruvians     
record a very long night1 at  the end of
 which the sun proceeded forth from a   
certain lake called  ,titicaca4         
,hitherto ,i have regarded these as mere
 tales1 and have never  wavered in my   
belief4 ,now1 however1 that ,i perceive 
reason and science  to be absolutely    
useless1 ,i am determined to believe the
 truth of  these1 and similar things4 ,i
 will also visit the lakes and puddles  
in  the neighbourhood1 and see if ,i can
 fish out the sun4    ,ha6 what is this 
that ,i hear8 ,it is like the flapping  
of the wings of  some huge bird4        

,scene ,,iii4--,the ,last ,hour and     
,copernicus4      ,last ,hour4          
,copernicus1 ,i am the ,last ,hour4     
,copernicus4 ,the ,last ,hour6 ,well1 ,i
 suppose ,i must be resigned4 ,but ,i   
beg of you1 if possible1 to give me     
enough time to make my will1 and  put my
 things in order1 before ,i die4        
,last ,hour4 ,die6 ,what do you mean8 ,i
 am not the last hour of your life4     
,copernicus4 ,oh1 then1 what are you8   
,the last hour of the office of  the    
breviary8    ,last ,hour4 ,i can quite  
imagine you prefer that one to the      
others1  when you are in your stall4    
,copernicus4 ,but how do you know ,i am 
a ,canon8 ,and how is it you know  my   
name8    ,last ,hour4 ,i procured my    
information about you1 from certain     
people  in the street4 ,i am1 in fact1  
the ,last ,hour of day4    ,copernicus4 
,ah6 now ,i understand4 ,the ,first     
,hour is unwell2 and that  is why day is
 not yet visible4    ,last ,hour4 ,i    
have news for you4 ,there will never be 

any more daylight  unless you provide it
 yourself4    ,copernicus4 ,you would   
throw on me the responsibility of making
  daylight8 ,a fine thing1 indeed6      
,last ,hour4 ,i will tell you how4 ,but 
first of all1 you must come with  me at 
once to the house of the ,sun1 my       
father4 ,you shall hear more when  we   
set out4 ,his ,excellency will explain  
everything when we arrive4              
,copernicus4 ,i trust it is all right4  
,but the journey1 unless ,i am          
mistaken1 must be a very long one4 ,and 
how can ,i take enough food  to prevent 
my dying of hunger a few years before   
reaching the ,sun8  ,besides1 ,i doubt  
if his ,excellency's lands produce the  
where-withal to  supply me with even a  
single meal4    ,last ,hour4 ,do not    
trouble yourself with these doubts4 ,you
 will not  stay long in my father's     
house1 and the journey will be completed
 in a  moment4 ,for you must know that  
,i am a spirit4    ,copernicus4 ,maybe4 
,but ,i am a body4    ,last ,hour4      

,well1 well3 you are not a metaphysician
 that you need  excite yourself about   
these matters4 ,come now1 mount on my   
shoulders1  and leave all the rest to   
me4    ,copernicus4 ,courage4 ,there1 it
 is done6 ,i will pursue this novelty to
  its issue4        ,scene              
,,iv4--,copernicus and the ,sion4       
,copernicus4 ,most noble ,lord4    ,sun4
 ,forgive me1 ,copernicus1 if ,i do not 
offer you a chair3 one does  not use    
such things here4 ,but we will soon     
despatch our business4 ,my  servant has 
already explained the matter to you2 and
 from what the  child tells me1 ,i      
imagine you will do very well for our   
purpose4    ,copernicus4 ,my lord1 ,i   
discern great difficulties in the       
matter4    ,sun4 ,difficulties ought not
 to frighten such a man as yourself4    
,they  are even said to make the brave  
man still more courageous4 ,but tell me 
briefly of what these difficulties      
consist4    ,copernicus4 ,in the first  
place1 although philosophy is a great   

power1  ,i doubt whether it can persuade
 the ,earth to change its comfortable   
sitting posture for a state of restless 
activity2 especially in these  times1   
which are not heroic4    ,sun4 ,and if  
persuasion be ineffectual1 you must try 
force4    ,copernicus4 ,willingly1      
,illustrious1 if ,i were a ,hercules1 or
 even an  ,orlando1 instead of a mere   
,canon of ,varmia4    ,sun4 ,what has   
that to do with it8 ,did not one of your
 ancient  mathematicians say1 that if he
 had standing room given him outside the
  world1 he would undertake to move     
heaven and earth8 ,now1 you are not     
required to move heaven1 and behold1 you
 are already in a place outside  the    
earth4 ,therefore1 unless you are not so
 clever as that ancient1 you  will no   
doubt be able to move the ,earth1       
whether it be willing1 or not4          
,copernicus4 ,my lord1 such a thing     
might be possible4 ,but a lever  would  
be necessary1 of such dimensions that   
neither ,i nor even  your ,illustrious  

,lordship could pay half the cost of its
 materials  and manufacture4 ,there are1
 however1 other and far more serious    
difficulties1 which ,i will now mention4
    ,you know the ,earth has hitherto   
occupied the principal position in  the 
,universe1 that is the centre4          
,motionless1 it has had nothing to  do  
but regard all the other spheres1 great 
and small1 brilliant and  obscure1      
continuously gyrating around and on all 
sides of it with a  marvellous          
regularity and speed4 ,all things seem  
to be occupied in  its service2 so that 
the ,universe may be likened to a court1
 in the  midst of which the ,earth sits 
as on a throne1 surrounded by attendant 
globes1 like courtiers1 guards1 and     
servants1 each of which fulfils  its    
respective office4 ,consequently1 the   
,earth has always regarded  itself as   
,empress of the ,universe4 ,so far1     
indeed1 little fault can be  found with 
its control1 and ,i do not think your   
design an improvement  on the old state 

of affairs4 ,but what shall ,i say to   
you about men8 ,we  esteem ourselves    
7and shall always do so7 to be in the   
same relation to  the rest of created   
beings as the ,earth is to the          
,universe4 ,and more  than this4        
,supreme among terrestrial creatures1 we
 all1 including the  ragged beggar who  
dines on a morsel of black bread1 have a
 most exalted  idea of ourselves4 ,we   
are each of us emperors1 and our empire 
is only  bounded by the ,universe1 for  
it includes all the stars and planets1  
visible and invisible4 ,man is1 in his  
own  estimation1 the final cause  of all
 things1 including even your            
,illustrious ,lordship4    ,now1 if we  
remove the ,earth from its place in the 
centre1 and make it  whirl round and    
round unremittingly1 what will be the   
consequence8  ,simply1 that it will act 
like all the other globes1 and be       
enrolled  in the number of the planets4 
,then all its terrestrial majesty will  
vanish1 and the ,earth will have to     

abdicate its imperial throne4 ,men1     
too1 will lose their human majesty1 and 
be deprived of their supremacy2  they   
will be left alone with their rags1 and 
miseries1 which are not  insignificant4 
,sun4 ,in short1 ,don ,nicolas1 what do 
you wish to prove by this  discourse8   
,is it that you have scruples of        
conscience lest the deed  should be     
treasonable8    ,copernicus4 ,no1 it is 
not that1 ,illustrious4 ,for1 to the    
best of my  knowledge neither the       
,codes1 nor the ,digest1 nor the books  
of public1  imperial1 international1 or 
natural law1 make any mention of such   
treason4 ,what ,i wanted to show was1   
that this action1 subverting our        
planetary relationships1 will not only  
work alteration in the order  of nature2
 for it will change the position of     
things inter se1 and  the ends for which
 created beings now exist2 it will also 
necessarily  make a great revolution in 
the science of metaphysics1 and         
everything  connected with the          

speculative part of knowledge4 ,the     
result will be  that men1 even if they  
are able and willing to critically      
examine into  the why and wherefore of  
life1 will discover themselves and their
 aims  to be very different from what   
they are now1 or from what they imagine 
them to be4    ,sun4 ,my dear child1 the
 thought of these things does not       
disturb me  much2 so little respect have
 ,i for metaphysics1 or physics1 or even
  alchemy1 necromancy1 or any such      
things4 ,besides1 men will in time      
become content with their position2 or1 
if they do not like it1 they  may argue 
the matter to their hearts' content1 and
 will doubtless  succeed in believing   
just what they please4 ,in this way they
 may still  deceive themselves under the
 names of ,barons1 ,dukes1 ,emperors1 or
  anything else4 ,if1 however1 they are 
inconsolable1 ,i confess it will  not   
give me much uneasiness4    ,copernicus4
 ,well1 then1 apart from men and the    
,earth1 consider1  ,illustrious1 what   

may reasonably be expected to happen in 
regard  to the other planets4 ,these1   
when they see the ,earth reduced to     
their condition1 and doing precisely    
what they do1 just like one of          
themselves1 will be jealous of its      
apparent superiority4 ,they will be     
dissatisfied with their own naked       
simplicity and sad loneliness1 and  will
 desire to have their rivers1 mountains1
 seas1 plants1 animals1 and  men2 for   
they will see no reason why they should 
be in the smallest  degree less endowed 
than the ,earth4 ,thereupon will ensue  
another great  revolution in the        
,universe3 an infinite number of new    
races and people  will instantaneously  
proceed from their soil1 like mushrooms4
    ,sun4 ,well1 let them come1 and the 
more the merrier4 ,my light and heat    
will suffice for them all without any   
extra expense4 ,the ,universe shall     
have food1 clothes1 and lodging amply   
provided gratis4    ,copernicus4 ,but1  
if your ,illustrious ,lordship will     

reflect a moment1  yet another objection
 may be discerned4 ,the stars1 having   
rivalled the  ,earth1 will turn their   
attentions to you4 ,they will notice    
your fine  throne1 noble court1 and     
numerous planetary satellites4          
,consequently1  they also will wish for 
thrones4 ,and more1 they will desire to 
rule1 as  you do1 over inferior planets1
 each of which must of course be peopled
  and ornamented like the ,earth4 ,it is
 needless to mention the increased      
unhappiness of the human race4 ,their   
insignificance will be greater  than    
ever4 ,they will burst out in all these 
millions of new worlds1 so  that even   
the tiniest star of the milky way will  
be provided with its  own race of       
mortals4 ,now1 looking at this1 solely  
as affecting your  interests1 ,i affirm 
that it will be very prejudicial4       
,hitherto you have  been1 if not the    
first1 certainly the second in the      
,universe2 that is1  after the ,earth2  
nor have the stars aspired to rival you 

in dignity4 ,in  this new state1        
however1 you will have as many equals as
 stars1 each  with their respective     
stars4 ,beware then lest this change be 
ruinous to  your supremacy4    ,sun4    
,you remember ,csar's remark1 when1     
crossing the ,alps1 he  happened to pass
 a certain miserable little barbarian   
village4 ,he said  that he would rather 
be the first in that village1 than the  
second  in ,rome4 ,similarly ,i would   
rather be first in this my own world    
than  second in the ,universe4 ,but you 
must not think it is ambition that      
makes me desirous of changing the       
present state of things2 it is solely   
my love of peace1 or1 more candidly1    
idleness4 ,therefore it is a small      
matter to me whether ,i am first or last
 in the ,universe3 unlike ,cicero1  ,i  
care more for ease than dignity4        
,copernicus4 ,i also1 ,illustrious1 have
 striven my utmost to obtain  this ease4
 ,but1 supposing your ,lordship is      
successful in your  endeavour1 ,i doubt 

whether it will be of long duration4    
,for1 in the  first place1 ,i feel      
almost sure that before many years have 
elapsed  you will be impelled to go     
winding round and round like a windlass1
  or a wheel1 without however varying   
your locality4 ,then1 after a  time1 you
 will probably be desirous of rotating  
round something--the  ,earth for        
instance4 ,ah6 well1 be that as it may2 
if you persist in  your determination1  
,i will try to serve you1 in spite of   
the great  difficulties necessarily to  
be overcome4 ,if ,i fail1 you must      
attribute  the failure to my inability1 
not unwillingness4    ,sun4 ,that is    
well1 my ,copernicus4 ,do your best4    
,copernicus4 ,there is however yet      
another obstacle4    ,sun4 ,what is it8 
,copernicus4 ,i fear lest ,i should be  
burnt alive for my pains4 ,in  which    
case1 it would be improbable that ,i1   
like the ,phoenix1 should  rise from my 
ashes4 ,i should therefore never see    
your ,lordship's face  again4    ,sun4  

,listen1 ,copernicus4 ,you know that    
once upon a time ,i was a  prophet1 when
 poetry ruled the world1 and philosophy 
was scarcely  hatched4 ,i will now utter
 my last prophecy4 ,put faith in me on  
the  strength of my former power4 ,this 
is what ,i say4 ,it may be that those   
who come after you1 and confirm your    
deeds1 shall be burnt1 or killed  in    
some other way2 but you shall be safe1  
nor shall you suffer at  all on account 
of this undertaking4 ,and to make your  
safety certain1  dedicate to the ,pope  
the book#a you will write on the        
subject4 ,if you  do this1 ,i promise   
that you will not even lose your        
canonry4      ,footnote #a3 ,copernicus 
did in effect dedicate his book on the  
,revolution of the ,celestial ,bodies1  
the printing of which was only          
completed a few days before his death1  
to ,pope ,paul ,,iii4 ,the system       
expounded therein was condemned by a    
decree of ,paul ,v4 in #afaf4 ,this     
condemnation remained in force until    

#ahba1 when it was revoked by ,pius     
,,vii4 ,the sun is supposed to be in the
 centre1 and motionless2 the earth  and 
the rest of the planets move round it in
 elliptical orbits4 ,the  heavens and   
stars are supposed to be stationary1 and
 their apparent  diurnal motion from    
east to west is imputed to the earth's  
motion from  west to east4              
,,dialogue ,,between ,,an ,,almanac     
,,seller ,,and ,a ,,passer-,,by4        
,almanac ,seller4 ,almanacs6 ,new       
,almanacs6 ,new ,calendars6 ,who wants  
new  ,almanacs8    ,passer-by4 ,almanacs
 for the ,new ,year8    ,alm4 ,seller4  
,yes1 ,sir4    ,passer4 ,do you think   
this ,new ,year will be a happy one8    
,alm4 ,seller4 ,yes1 to be sure1 ,sir4  
,passer4 ,as happy as last year8        
,alm4 ,seller4 ,much more so4           
,passer4 ,as the year before8    ,alm4  
,seller4 ,still more1 ,sir4    ,passer4 
,why8 ,should you not like the ,new     
,year to resemble one of the  past      
years8    ,alm4 ,seller4 ,no1 ,sir1 ,i  

should not4    ,passer4 ,how many years 
have gone by since you began to sell    
almanacs8    ,alm4 ,seller4 ,about      
twenty years1 ,sir4    ,passer4 ,which  
of the twenty should you wish the ,new  
,year to be like8    ,alm4 ,seller4 ,i  
do not know4    ,passer4 ,do you not    
remember any particular year which you  
thought a  happy one8    ,alm4 ,seller4 
,indeed ,i do not1 ,sir4    ,passer4    
,and yet life is a fine thing1 is it    
not8    ,alm4 ,seller4 ,so they say4    
,passer4 ,would you not like to live    
these twenty years1 and even all  your1 
past life from your birth1 over again8  
,alm4 ,seller4 ,ah1 dear ,sir1 would to 
,god ,i could6    ,passer4 ,but if you  
had to live over again the life you have
 already  lived1 with all its pleasures 
and sufferings8    ,alm4 ,seller4 ,i    
should not like that4    ,passer4 ,then 
what other life would you like to live8 
,mine1 or that of  the ,prince1 or      
whose8 ,do you not think that ,i1 or the
 ,prince1 or any  one else1 would reply 

exactly as you have done2 and that no   
one would  wish to repeat the same life 
over again8    ,alm4 ,seller4 ,i do     
believe that4    ,passer4 ,then would   
you recommence it on this condition1 if 
none other  were offered you8    ,alm4  
,seller4 ,no1 ,sir1 indeed ,i would not4
    ,passer4 ,then what life would you  
like8    ,alm4 ,seller4 ,such an one as 
,god would give me without any          
conditions4    ,passer4 ,a life at      
hap-hazard1 and of which you would know 
nothing  beforehand1 as you know nothing
 about the ,new ,year8    ,alm4 ,seller4
 ,exactly4    ,passer4 ,it is what ,i   
should wish1 had ,i to live my life over
 again1  and so would every one4 ,but   
this proves that ,fate has treated us   
all  badly4 ,and it is clear that each  
person is of opinion that the evil he   
has experienced exceeds the good1 if no 
one would wish to be re-born on         
condition of living his own life over   
again from the beginning1 with  just its
 same proportion of good and evil4 ,this

 life1 which is such a  fine thing1 is  
not the life we are acquainted with1 but
 that of which  we know nothing2 it is  
not the past life1 but the future4 ,with
 the ,new  ,year ,fate will commence    
treating you1 and me1 and every one     
well1 and  the happy life will begin4   
,am ,i not right8    ,alm4 ,seller4 ,let
 us hope so4    ,passer4 ,show me the   
best almanac you have4    ,alm4 ,seller4
 ,here it is1 ,sir4 ,this is worth      
thirty soldi4    ,passer4 ,here are     
thirty soldi4    ,alm4 ,seller4 ,thank  
you1 ,sir4 ,good day1 ,sir4--,almanacs6 
,new ,almanacs6  ,new ,calendars6       
,,dialogue ,,between ,,plotinus ,,and   
,,porphyrius4          ,one day when ,i1
 ,porphyrius1 was meditating about      
taking my      own life1 ,plotinus      
guessed my intention4 ,he interrupted   
me1      and said that such a design    
could not proceed from a healthy        
mind1 but was due to some melancholy    
indisposition1 and      that ,i must    
have change of air 7,ex4 ,life of       

,plotinus1 by      ,porphyrius74        
,the same incident is recounted in the  
life of ,plotinus by      ,eunapius1 who
 adds that ,plotinus recorded in a book 
the      conversation he then held with 
,porphyrius on the subject4             
,plotinus4 ,you know1 ,porphyrius1 how  
sincerely ,i am your friend4 ,you  will 
not wonder therefore that ,i am unquiet 
about you4 ,for some time  ,i have      
noticed how sad and thoughtful you are2 
your expression of  countenance is      
unusual1 and you have let fall certain  
words which make  me anxious4 ,in short1
 ,i fear that you contemplate some evil 
design4    ,porphyrius4 ,how6 ,what do  
you mean8    ,plotinus4 ,i think you    
intend to do yourself some injury2 it   
were a  bad omen to give the deed its   
name4 ,listen to me1 dear ,porphyrius1  
and  do not conceal the truth4 ,do not  
wrong the friendship that has so long   
existed between us4 ,i know my words    
will cause you displeasure1 and  ,i can 
easily understand that you would rather 

have kept your design  hid4 ,but ,i     
could not be silent in such a matter1   
and you ought not to  refuse to confide 
in one who loves you as much as himself4
 ,let us then  talk calmly1 weighing our
 words4 ,open your heart to me4 ,tell me
 your  troubles1 and let me be auditor  
of your lamentations4 ,i have deserved  
your confidence4 ,i promise1 on my part1
 not to oppose the carrying out  of your
 resolution1 if we agree that it is     
useful and reasonable4    ,porphyrius4  
,i have never denied a request of yours1
 dear ,plotinus4 ,i  will therefore     
confess to you what ,i would rather have
 kept to myself2  nothing in the world  
would induce me to tell it to anyone    
else4 ,you are  right in your           
interpretation of my thoughts4 ,if you  
wish to discuss  the subject1 ,i will   
not refuse1 in spite of my dislike to do
 so2 for  on such occasions the mind    
prefers to encompass itself with a lofty
  silence1 and to meditate in solitude1 
giving itself up for the time to  a     

state of complete self-absorption4      
,nevertheless1 ,i am willing to do  as  
you please4    ,in the first place1 ,i  
may say that my design is not the       
consequence of  any special misfortune4 
,it is simply the result of an utter    
weariness  of life1 and a continuous    
ennui which has long possessed me like a
  pain4 ,to this may be added a feeling 
of the vanity and nothingness  of all   
things1 which pervades me in body and   
soul4 ,do not say that  this disposition
 of mind is unreasonable1 though ,i will
 allow that it  may in part proceed from
 physical causes4 ,it is in itself      
perfectly  reasonable1 and therein      
differs from all our other dispositions2
 for  everything which makes us attach  
some value to life and human things1    
proves on analysis to be contrary to    
reason1 and to proceed from some        
illusion or falsity4 ,nothing is more   
rational than ennui4#a ,pleasures  are  
all unreal4 ,pain itself1 at least      
mental pain1 is equally false1  because 

on examination it is seen to have       
scarcely any foundation1 or  none at    
all4 ,the same may be said of fear and  
hope4 ,ennui alone1 which  is born from 
the vanity of things1 is genuine1 and   
never deceives4 ,if1  then1 all else be 
vain1 the reality of life is summed up  
in ennui4    ,plotinus4 ,it may be so4  
,i will not contradict you as to that4  
,but we  must now consider the nature of
 your project4 ,you know ,plato refused 
to  allow that man is at liberty to     
escape1 like a fugitive slave1 from the 
captivity in which he is placed by the  
will of the gods1 in depriving  himself 
of life4    ,porphyrius4 ,i beg you1    
dear ,plotinus1 to leave ,plate alone   
now1  with his doctrines and dreams4 ,it
 is one thing to praise1 explain1  and  
champion certain theories in the schools
 and in books1 but quite  another to    
practically exemplify them4             
,school-teaching and boots  constrain us
 to admire ,plato1 and conform to him1  
because such is the  custom in the      

present day4 ,bat in real life1 far from
 being admired1  he is even detested4   
,it is true ,plato is said to have      
spread abroad by  his writings the      
notion of a future life1 thus leaving   
men in doubt as  to their fate after    
death1 and serving a good purpose in    
deterring men  from evil in this life1  
through fear of punishment in the next4 
,if ,i  imagined ,plato to have been the
 inventor of these ideas and beliefs1 ,i
  would speak thus to him3--    ,you    
observe1 ,o ,plato1 how inimical to our 
race the power which governs  the world 
has always been1 whether known as       
,nature1 ,destiny1 or ,fate4  ,many     
reasons contradict the supposition that 
man has that high rank  in the order of 
creation which we are pleased to        
imagine2 but by no  reason can he be    
deprived of the characteristic          
attributed to him  by ,homer--that of   
suffering4 ,nature1 however1 has given  
us a remedy  for all evils4 ,it is      
death1 little feared by those who are   

not fully  intelligent1 and by all      
others desired4    ,but you have        
deprived us of this dearest consolation 
of our life1  full of suffering that it 
is4 ,the doubts raised by you have torn 
this  comfort from our minds1 and made  
the thought of death the bitterest  of  
all thoughts4 ,thanks to you1 unhappy   
mortals now fear the storm  less than   
the port4 ,driven from their one place  
of repose1 and robbed  of the only      
remedy they could look for1 they resign 
themselves to the  sufferings and       
troubles of life4 ,thus1 you have been  
more cruel towards  us than ,destiny1   
,nature1 or ,fate4 ,and since this      
doubt1 once conceived1  can never be got
 rid of1 to you is it due that your     
fellow-men regard  death as something   
more terrible than life4 ,you are to    
blame that rest  and peace are for ever 
banished from the last moments of man1  
whereas  all other animals die in       
perfect fearlessness4 ,this one thing1  
,o ,plato1  was wanting to complete the 

sum of human misery4    ,true1 your     
intention was good4 ,but it has failed  
in its purpose4  ,violence and injustice
 are not arrested1 for evil-doers only  
realise  the terrors of death in their  
last moments1 when quite powerless to do
  more harm4 ,your doubts trouble only  
the good1 who are more disposed  to     
benefit than injure their fellow-men1   
and the weak and timid1 who  are neither
 inclined by nature nor disposition to  
oppress anyone4 ,bold  and strong men1  
who have scarcely any power of          
imagination1 and those  who require some
 other restraint than mere law1 regard  
these fears as  chimerical1 and are     
undeterred from evil doing4 ,we see     
daily instances  of this1 and the       
experience of all the centuries1 from   
your time down  to the present1 confirms
 it4 ,good laws1 still more1 good       
education1 and  mental and social       
culture1--these are the things that     
preserve justice  and mildness amongst  
men4 ,civilisation1 and the use of      

reflection and  reason1 make men almost 
always hate to war with each other and  
shed one  another's blood1 and render   
them disinclined to quarrel1 and        
endanger  their lives by lawlessness4   
,but such good results are never due to 
threatening fancies1 and bitter         
expectation of terrible chastisement2   
these1 like the multitude and cruelty of
 the punishments used in  certain       
states1 only serve to increase the      
baseness and ferocity of  men1 and are  
therefore opposed to the well-being of  
human society4    ,perhaps1 however1 you
 will reply that you have promised a    
reward  in the future for the good4     
,what then is this reward8 ,a state of  
life which seems full of ennui1 even    
less tolerable than our present         
existence6 ,the bitterness of your      
punishments is unmistakable2 but the    
sweetness of your rewards is hidden and 
secret1 incomprehensible to our  minds4 
,how then can order and virtue be said  
to be encouraged by your  doctrine8 ,i  

will venture to say that if but few men 
have been deterred  from evil by the    
fear of your terrible ,tartarus1 no good
 man has been  led to perform a single  
praiseworthy action by desire of your   
,elysium4  ,such a ,paradise does not   
attract us in the least4 ,but1 apart    
from the  fact that your heaven is      
scarcely an inviting place1 who among   
the  best of us can hope to merit it8   
,what man can satisfy your inexorable   
judges1 ,minos1 ,eacus1 and             
,rhadamanthus1 who will not overlook one
  single fault1 however trivial8        
,besides1 who can say that he has       
reached  your standard of purity8 ,in   
short1 we cannot look for happiness in  
the  world to come2 and however clear a 
man's conscience may be1 or however     
upright his life1 in his last hour he   
will dread the future with its  terrible
 incertitude4 ,it is due to your        
teaching that fear is a much  stronger  
influence than hope1 and may be said to 
dominate mankind4    ,this then is the  

result of your doctrines4 ,man1 whose   
life on earth  is wretched in the       
extreme1 anticipates death1 not as an   
end to all  his miseries1 but as the    
beginning of a condition more wretched  
still4  ,thus1 you surpass in cruelty1  
not only ,nature and ,destiny1 but the  
most  merciless tyrant and bloodthirsty 
executioner the world has ever known4   
,but what cruelty can exceed that of    
your law1 forbidding man to put  an end 
to his sufferings and troubles by       
voluntarily depriving himself  of life1 
thereby triumphing over the horrors of  
death8 ,other animals  do not desire to 
put an end to their life1 because their 
unhappiness  is less than ours2 nor     
would they even have sufficient courage 
to face  a voluntary death4 ,but if they
 did wish to die1 what should deter them
  from fulfilling their desire8 ,they   
are affected by no prohibition1 nor     
fear of the future4 ,here again you make
 us inferior to brute beasts4  ,the     
liberty they possess1 they do not use2  

the liberty granted also to  us by      
,nature1 so miserly in her gifts1 you   
take away4 ,thus1 the only  creatures   
capable of desiring death1 have the     
right to die refused  them4 ,nature1    
,destiny1 and ,fortune overwhelm us with
 cruel blows1 that  cause us to suffer  
fearfully2 you add to our sufferings by 
tying our  arms and enchaining our feet1
 so that we can neither defend          
ourselves1  nor escape from our         
persecutors4    ,truly1 when ,i think   
over the great wretchedness of humanity1
 it seems  to me that your doctrines1   
above all things1 ,o ,plato1 are guilty 
of  it1 and that men may well complain  
of you more than of ,nature4 ,for the   
latter1 in decreeing for us an existence
 full of unhappiness1 has left  us the  
means of escaping from it when we       
please4 ,indeed1 unhappiness  cannot be 
called extreme1 when we have in our     
hands the power to  shorten it at will4 
,besides1 the mere thought of being able
 to quit  life at pleasure1 and withdraw

 from the miseries of the world1 is so  
great an alleviation of our lot1 that in
 itself it suffices to render  existence
 supportable4 ,consequently1 there can  
be no doubt that our  chief unhappiness 
proceeds from the fear1 that in         
abbreviating our life  we might be      
plunged into a state of greater misery  
than the present4  ,and not only will   
our misery be greater in the future1 but
 it will  be so full of the refinement  
of cruelty1 that a comparison of these  
unexperienced tortures with the known   
sufferings of this life1 reduces  the   
latter almost to insignificance4    ,you
 have easily1 ,o ,plato1 raised this    
question of immortality2 but  the human 
species will become extinct before it is
 settled4 ,your genius  is the most     
fatal thing that has ever afflicted     
humanity1 and nothing  can ever exist   
more disastrous in its effects4    ,that
 is what ,i would say to ,plato1 had he 
invented the doctrine we  are           
discussing2 but ,i am well aware he did 

not originate it4 ,however1  enough has 
been said4 ,let us drop the subject1 if 
you please4    ,plotinus4 ,porphyrius1  
you know how ,i revere ,plato2 yet in   
talking to  you on such an occasion as  
this1 ,i will give you my own opinion1  
and  will disregard his authority4 ,the 
few words of his that ,i spoke were     
rather as an introduction than anything 
else4 ,returning to my first  argument1 
,i affirm that not only ,plato and every
 other philosopher1  but ,nature        
herself1 teaches us that it is improper 
to take away our  own life4 ,i will not 
say much on this point1 because if you  
reflect a  little1 ,i am sure you will  
agree with me that suicide is unnatural4
 ,it  is indeed an action the most      
contrary possible to nature4 ,the whole 
order of things would be subverted if   
the beings of the world destroyed       
themselves4 ,and it is repugnant and    
absurd to suppose that life is  given   
only to be taken away by its possessor1 
and that beings should  exist only to   

become non-existent4 ,the law of        
self-preservation is the  strictest law 
of nature4 ,its maintenance is enjoined 
in every possible  way on man and all   
creatures of the universe4 ,and1 apart  
from anything  else1 do we not          
instinctively fear1 hate1 and shun      
death1 even in spite  of ourselves8     
,therefore1 since suicide is so utterly 
contrary to our  nature1 ,i cannot think
 that it is permissible4    ,porphyrius4
 ,i have already meditated on the       
subject from all points  of view2 for   
the mind could not design such a step   
without due  consideration4 ,it seems to
 me that all your reasoning is          
answerable  with just as much counter   
reasoning4 ,but ,i will be brief4       
,you doubt whether it be permissible to 
die without necessity4 ,i ask  you if it
 be permissible to be unhappy8 ,nature1 
you say1 forbids  suicide4 ,it is a     
strange thing that since she is either  
unable or  unwilling to make me happy1  
or free me from unhappiness1 she should 

have the power to force me to live4 ,if 
,nature has given us a love of  life1   
and a hatred of death1 she has also     
given us a love of happiness1  and a    
hatred of suffering2 and the latter     
instincts are much more  powerful than  
the former1 because happiness is the    
supreme aim of all  our actions and     
sentiments of love or hatred4 ,for to   
what end do we  shun death1 or desire   
life1 save to promote our well-being1   
and for  fear of the contrary8    ,how  
then can it be unnatural to escape from 
suffering in the only way  open to man1 
that is1 by dying2 since in life it can 
never be avoided8  ,how1 too1 can it be 
true1 that ,nature forbids me to devote 
myself to  death1 which is undoubtedly a
 good thing1 and to reject life1 which  
is undoubtedly an evil and injurious    
thing1 since it is a source of  nothing 
but suffering to me8    ,plotinus4      
,these things do not persuade me that   
suicide is not  unnatural4 ,have we not 
a strong instinctive horror of death8   

,besides1  we never see brute beasts1   
which invariably follow the instincts of
  their nature 7when not contrarily     
trained by man71 either commit  suicide1
 or regard death as anything but a      
condition to be struggled  against1 even
 in their moments of greatest suffering4
 ,in short1 all  men who commit this    
desperate act1 will be found to have    
lived out of  conformity to nature4     
,they1 on the contrary1 who live        
naturally1 would  without exception     
reject suicide1 if even the thought     
proposed itself  to them4               
,porphyrius4 ,well1 if you like1 ,i will
 admit that the action is  contrary to  
nature4 ,but what has that to do with   
it1 if we ourselves  do not conform to  
nature2 that is1 are no longer savages8 
,compare  ourselves1 for instance1 with 
the inhabitants of ,india or ,ethiopia1 
who  are said to have retained their    
primitive manners and wild habits4 ,you 
would scarcely think that these people  
were even of the same species  as       

ourselves4 ,this transformation of life1
 and change of manners and  customs by  
civilisation1 has been accompanied1 in  
my opinion1 by an  immeasurable increase
 of suffering4 ,savages never wish to   
commit  suicide1 nor does their         
imagination ever induce them to regard  
death  as a desirable thing2 whereas we 
who are civilised wish for it1 and      
sometimes voluntarily seek it4    ,now1 
if man be permitted to live unnaturally1
 and be consequently  unhappy1 why may  
he not also die unnaturally8 ,for death 
is indeed  the only way by which he can 
deliver himself from the unhappiness    
that results from civilisation4 ,or1 why
 not return to our primitive  condition1
 and state of nature8 ,ah1 we should    
find it almost impossible  as far as    
mere external circumstances are         
concerned1 and in the more  important   
matters of the mind1 quite impossible4  
,what is less natural  than medicine8   
,by this ,i mean surgery1 and the use of
 drugs4 ,they are  both ordinarily used 

expressly to combat nature1 and are     
quite unknown  to brute beasts and      
savages4 ,yet1 since the diseases they  
remedy are  unnatural1 and only occur in
 civilised countries1 where people have 
fallen from their natural condition1    
these arts1 being also unnatural1  are  
highly esteemed and even indispensable4 
,similarly1 suicide1 which  is a radical
 cure for the disease of despair1 one of
 the outcomes of  civilisation1 must not
 be blamed because it is unnatural2 for 
unnatural  evils require unnatural      
remedies4 ,it would indeed be hard and  
unjust  that reason1 which increases our
 misery by forcing us to go contrary to 
nature1 should in this matter join hands
 with nature1 and take from us  our only
 remaining hope and refuge1 and the only
 resource consistent  with itself1 and  
should force us to continue in our      
wretchedness4    ,the truth is this1    
,plotinus4 ,our primitive nature has    
departed from us  for ever4 ,habit and  
reason have given us a new nature in    

place of the  old one1 to which we shall
 never return4 ,formerly1 it was        
unnatural  for men to commit suicide1 or
 desire death4 ,in the present day1 both
  are natural4 ,they conform to our new 
nature1 which however1 like the  old    
one1 still impels us to seek our        
happiness4 ,and since death is our      
greatest good1 is it remarkable that men
 should voluntarily seek it8  ,for our  
reason tells us that death is not an    
evil1 but1 as the remedy  for all evils1
 is the most desirable of things4       
,now tell me3 are all other actions of  
civilised men regulated by the  standard
 of their primitive nature8 ,if so1 give
 me a single instance4  ,no1 it is our  
present1 and not our primitive nature1  
that interprets  our actions2 in other  
words1 it is our reason4 ,why then      
should suicide  alone be judged         
unreasonably1 and from the aspect of our
 primitive  nature8 ,why should this    
latter1 which has no influence over our 
life1  control our death8 ,why should   

not the same reason govern our death    
which rules our life8 ,it is a fact1    
whether due to reason or our            
unhappiness1 that in many people1       
especially those who are unfortunate    
and afflicted1 the primitive hatred of  
death is extinguished1 and  even changed
 into desire and love1 as ,i have said4 
,such love1 though  incompatible with   
our early nature1 is a reality in the   
present day4  ,we are also necessarily  
unhappy because we live unnaturally4 ,it
 were  therefore manifestly unreasonable
 to assert that the prohibition which   
forbade suicide in the primitive state  
should now hold good4 ,this seems  to me
 sufficient justification of the deed4  
,it remains to be proved  whether or not
 it be useful4    ,plotinus4 ,never mind
 that side of the question1 my dear     
,porphyrius1  because if the deed be    
permissible1 ,i have no doubt of its    
extreme  utility4 ,but ,i will never    
admit that a forbidden and improper     
action  can be useful4 ,the matter      

really resolves itself into this3 which 
is  the better1 to suffer1 or not to    
suffer8 ,it is certain that most men    
would prefer suffering mixed with       
enjoyment1 to a state devoid of both    
suffering and enjoyment1 so ardently do 
we desire and thirst after  joy4 ,but   
this is beside the question1 because    
enjoyment and pleasure1  properly       
speaking1 are as impossible as suffering
 is inevitable4 ,i mean  a suffering as 
continuous as our never satisfied desire
 for pleasure  and happiness1 and quite 
apart from the peculiar and accidental  
sufferings which must infallibly be     
experienced by even the happiest of     
men4 ,in truth1 were we certain that in 
continuing to live1 we should  continue 
thus to suffer1 we should have          
sufficient reason to prefer  death to   
life2 because existence does not contain
 a single genuine  pleasure to          
compensate for such suffering1 even if  
that were possible4    ,porphyrius4 ,it 
seems to me that ennui alone1 and the   

fact that we  cannot hope for an        
improved existence1 are sufficiently    
cogent reasons  to induce a desire for  
death1 even though our condition be one 
of  prosperity4 ,and it is often a      
matter of surprise to me that we have no
  record of princes having committed    
suicide through ennui and weariness  of 
their grandeur1 like other men in lower 
stations of life4 ,we read  how         
,hegesias1 the ,cyrenaic1 used to reason
 so eloquently about the  miseries of   
life1 that his auditors straightway went
 and committed  suicide2 for which      
reason he was called the death          
persuader1 and  was at length forbidden 
by ,ptolemy to hold further discourse on
 the  subject4 ,certain princes1 it is  
true1 have been suicides1 amongst       
others ,mithridates1 ,cleopatra1 and    
,otho4 ,but these all put an end to     
themselves to escape some peculiar      
evils1 or from dread of an increase  of 
misfortune4 ,princes are1 ,i imagine1   
more liable than other men to  feel a   

hatred of their condition1 and to think 
favourably of suicide4  ,for have they  
not reached the summit of what is called
 human happiness8  ,they have nothing to
 hope for1 because they have everything 
that  forms a part of the so-called good
 things of this life4 ,they cannot      
anticipate greater pleasure to-morrow   
than they have enjoyed to-day4  ,thus   
they are more unfortunately situated    
than all less exalted people4  ,for the 
present is always sad and               
unsatisfactory2 the future alone is a   
source of pleasure4    ,but be that as  
it may4 ,we see then that there is      
nothing to prevent  men voluntarily     
quitting life1 and preferring death1    
save the fear  of another world4 ,all   
other reasons are palpably ill-founded4 
,they  are due to a wrong estimate1 in  
comparing the advantages and evils of   
existence2 and whoever at any time feels
 a strong attachment to life1  or lives 
in a state of contentment1 does so under
 a mistake1 either of  judgment1 will1  

or even fact4    ,plotinus4 ,that is    
true1 dear ,porphyrius4 ,but            
nevertheless1 let me  advise1 nay       
implore1 you to listen to the counsels  
of ,nature rather  than ,reason4 ,follow
 the instincts of that primitive        
,nature1 mother of  us all1 who1 though 
she has manifested no affection for us  
in creating  us for unhappiness1 is a   
less bitter and cruel foe than our own  
reason1  with its boundless curiosity1  
speculation1 chattering1 dreams1 ideas1 
and miserable learning4 ,besides1       
,nature has sought to diminish our      
unhappiness by concealing or disguising 
it from us as much as possible4  ,and   
although we are greatly changed1 and the
 power of nature within us  is much     
lessened1 we are not so altered but that
 much of our former  manhood remains1   
and our primitive nature is not quite   
stifled within  us4 ,in spite of all our
 folly1 it will never be otherwise4 ,so1
 too1  the mistaken view of life that   
you mention1 although ,i admit that it  

is in reality palpably erroneous1 will  
continue to prevail4 ,it is  held not   
only by idiots and the half-witted1 but 
by clever1 wise1 and  learned men1 and  
always will be1 unless the ,nature that 
made us--and  not man nor his           
reason--herself puts an end to it4 ,and 
,i assure you  that neither disgust of  
life1 nor despair1 nor the sense of the 
nullity  of things1 the vanity of all   
anxiety1 and the insignificance of man1 
nor hatred of the world and oneself1 are
 of long duration2 although  such       
dispositions of mind are perfectly      
reasonable1 and the contrary            
unreasonable4 ,for our physical         
condition changes momentarily in more or
  less degree2 and often without any    
especial cause life endears itself  to  
us again1 and new hopes give brightness 
to human things1 which once  more seem  
worthy of some attention1 not indeed    
from our understanding1  but from what  
may be termed the higher senses of the  
intellect4 ,this is  why each of us1    

though perfectly aware of the truth1    
continues to live  in spite of ,reason1 
and conforms to the behaviour of others2
 for our  life is controlled by these   
senses1 and not by the understanding4   
,whether suicide be reasonable1 or our  
compromise with life  unreasonable1 the 
former is certainly a horrible and      
inhuman action4 ,it  were better to     
follow ,nature1 and remain man1 than act
 like a monster  in following ,reason4  
,besides1 ought we not to give some     
thought to the  friends1 relatives1     
acquaintance1 and people with whom we   
have been  accustomed to live1 and from 
whom we should thus separate for ever8  
,and  if the thought of such separation 
be nothing to us1 ought we not to       
consider their feelings8 ,they lose one 
whom they loved and respected2  and the 
atrocity of his death enhances their    
grief4 ,i know that the  wise man is not
 easily moved1 nor yields to pity and   
lamentation to  a disquieting extent2 he
 does not abase himself to the ground1  

shed  tears immoderately1 nor do other  
similar things unworthy of one who      
clearly understands the condition of    
humanity4 ,but such fortitude of  soul  
should be reserved for grievous         
circumstances that arise from  nature1  
or are unavoidable2 it is an abuse of   
fortitude to deprive  ourselves for ever
 of the society and conversation of     
those who are  dear to us4 ,he is a     
barbarian1 and not a wise man1 who takes
 no account  of the grief experienced by
 his friends1 relations1 and            
acquaintances4  ,he who scarcely        
troubles himself about the grief his    
death would cause  to his friends and   
family is selfish2 he cares little for  
others1 and  all for himself4 ,and      
truly1 the suicide thinks only of       
himself4 ,he  desires nought but his    
personal welfare1 and throws away all   
thought  of the rest of the world4 ,in  
short1 suicide is an action of the most 
unqualified and sordid egotism1 and is  
certainly the least attractive  form of 

self-love that exists in the world4     
,finally1 my dear ,porphyrius1 the      
troubles and evils of life1 although    
many and inevitable1 when1 as in your   
case1 unaccompanied by grievous         
calamity or bodily infirmity1 are after 
all easy to be borne1  especially by a  
wise and strong man like yourself4 ,and 
indeed1 life  itself is of so little    
importance1 that man ought not to       
trouble  himself much either to retain  
or abandon it2 and1 without thinking    
greatly about it1 we ought to give the  
former instinct precedence over  the    
latter4    ,if a friend begged you to do
 this1 why should you not gratify him8  
,now ,i earnestly entreat you1 dear     
,porphyrius1 by the memory of our  long 
friendship1 put away this idea4 ,do not 
grieve your friends1 who  love you with 
such warm affection1 and your           
,plotinus1#b who has no  dearer nor     
better friend in the world4 ,help us to 
bear the burden  of life1 instead of    
leaving us without a thought4 ,let us   

live1 dear  ,porphyrius1#c and console  
each other4 ,let us not refuse our share
 of  the sufferings of humanity1        
apportioned to us by destiny4 ,let us   
cling  to each other with mutual        
encouragement1 and hand in hand         
strengthen  one another better to bear  
the troubles of life4 ,our time after   
all  will be short2 and when death      
comes1 we will not complain4 ,in the    
last  hour1 our friends and companions  
will comfort us1 and we shall be        
gladdened by the thought that after     
death we shall still live in their      
memory1 and be loved by them4           
,footnote #a3 ,ennui is a state only    
experienced by the intelligent4  ,the   
greater the mind1 the more constant1    
painful1 and terrible is the  ennui it  
suffers4 ,ennui is in some respects the 
sublimest of human  sentiments          
7,leopardi's ,pensieri ,nos4 lxvii4 and 
lxviii47    ,footnote #b3 ,plotinus was 
born #bjd ,a4,d4 ,he began teaching     
philosophy  in ,rome1 and was highly    

esteemed at court4 ,eunapius says of    
him1 ,the  heavenly elevation of his    
mind1 and his perplexed style1 made him 
very  tiresome and unpleasant4 ,he was  
ascetic in his habits2 disparaged       
patriotism2 depreciated material things2
 purposely forgot his birthday2  and    
acted altogether rather as a spectator  
of other men's lives than as  a living  
man himself4    ,footnote #c3           
,porphyrius was born #bcc ,a4,d4 ,he was
 a pupil of ,plotinus1  and like him    
established a school of philosophy at   
,rome4 ,from study of  the writings of  
,plotinus he fell into a state of       
disgust with life1  and retiring from   
,rome1 lived alone in a solitary and    
wild part of  ,sicily4 ,here he         
determined to put an end to his life by 
starvation4  ,he was found by ,plotinus1
 who had followed him from ,rome1 in a  
state  of extreme weakness1 and was1 by 
his wise counsels1 dissuaded from       
completing his intention4               
,,comparison ,,of ,,the ,,last ,,words  

,,of ,,marcus ,,brutus ,,and            
,,theophrastus4      ,i think1 in all   
ancient history there can be found no   
words more  lamentable and terrifying1  
yet withal1 speaking humanly1 more      
true1 than those uttered by ,marcus     
,brutus shortly before death1 in        
disparagement of virtue4 ,this is what1 
according to ,dionysius ,cassius1  he is
 reported to have said3--    ,o         
miserable virtue6 ,thou art but a mere  
phrase1 and ,i have followed  thee1 as  
though thou wert a reality4 ,fate is    
stronger than thee4    ,plutarch1 in his
 life of ,brutus1 makes no mention of   
this1 which has  induced ,pier ,vettori 
to conclude that ,cassius has here taken
 licence  in prose often accorded to    
poetry4 ,but its truth is confirmed by  
the  witness of ,florus1 who states that
 ,brutus1 when at the point of death1   
exclaimed1 that virtue was an           
expression1 and not a reality4    ,many 
people are shocked at those words of    
,brutus1 and blame him for  uttering    

them4 ,they infer from their meaning1   
either that virtue  is a sealed book to 
them1 or else that they have never      
experienced  ill-fortune4 ,the former   
inference alone is credible4 ,in any    
case1 it  is certain they but slightly  
understand1 and still less realise the  
unhappiness of human affairs1 or else   
they stupidly wonder why the  doctrines 
of ,christianity were not in force      
before the time of ,christ4    ,other   
people interpret these words as         
demonstrating that ,brutus was  not     
after all the noble and pious man he was
 supposed to have been4  ,they imagine  
that just before death he threw off the 
mask4 ,but they are  wrong2 and if they 
give ,brutus credit for sincerity in    
uttering these  words in repudiation of 
virtue1 let them consider how it were   
possible  for him to abandon what he    
never possessed1 or to disassociate     
himself  from that with which he never  
had any association4 ,if they think he  
was  insincere1 and spoke designedly and

 with ostentation1 let them explain     
what object he could have in speaking   
vain and fallacious words1 and          
immediately afterwards acting in        
accordance with them8 ,are facts        
deniable1 simply because they are not in
 harmony with words8    ,brutus was a   
man overwhelmed by a great and          
unavoidable catastrophe4  ,he was       
disheartened1 and wearied with life and 
fortune1 and having  abandoned all      
desires and hopes1 the deceitfulness of 
which he had  experienced1 he determined
 to take his destiny into his own hands1
 and  to put an end to his unhappiness4 
,why should he1 at the very moment  of  
eternal separation from his fellows1    
trouble to hunt the phantom  of glory1  
and study to give forth words and       
thoughts to deceive those  around him1  
and to gain human esteem1 when he was   
about to leave  humanity for ever8 ,what
 was it to him that he might gain a     
reputation  on that earth which appeared
 so hateful and contemptible to him8    

,these words of ,brutus are well known  
to most of us4 ,the following  utterance
 of ,theophrastus at the point of death 
is1 ,i believe1 less  known1 though very
 worthy of consideration4 ,it forms a   
parallel with  that of ,brutus1 both as 
to its substance and time of delivery4  
,diogenes  ,laertius mentions it1 not1  
in my opinion1 as original to himself1  
but  as an extract from some more       
ancient and important work4 ,he says    
that  ,theophrastus1 just before death1 
being asked by his disciples whether  he
 would leave them any token or words of 
advice1 replied3    ,none1 except that  
man despises and rejects many pleasures 
for the sake  of glory4 ,but no sooner  
does he begin to live than death        
overtakes him4  ,hence the love of glory
 is as fatal a thing as possible4       
,strive to live  happily3 abandon       
studies1 which are a weariness2 or      
cultivate them only  so that they may   
bring you fame4 ,life is more vain than 
useful4 ,as for  me1 ,i have no time to 

think more about it2 you must study what
 is most  expedient4 ,so saying1 he     
died4    ,other sayings of ,theophrastus
 on this occasion are mentioned by      
,cicero  and ,st4 ,jerome4 ,these are   
better known1 but have nothing to do    
with our  subject4    ,it would seem    
that ,theophrastus lived to the age of  
more than a  hundred1 having devoted all
 his lifetime to study and writing1 and 
having been an unwearied pursuer of     
glory4 ,suidas says that his death  was 
due to the excess of his studies1 and   
that he died surrounded by  about two   
thousand of his disciples and followers1
 reverenced for his  wisdom throughout  
the whole of ,greece1 regretting his    
pursuit of glory1  just as ,brutus      
repented of virtue4 ,these two words1   
glory and virtue1  were by the ancients 
regarded as almost synonymous in        
meaning1 though  it is not so in the    
present day4 ,theophrastus did not      
indeed say that  glory is more          
frequently a matter of fortune than     

merit1 which is  oftener true now than  
in former times2 but had he said so1    
there would  have been no difference    
between his idea and that of ,brutus4   
,such abjurations1 or rather apostasies1
 of those noble errors which  beautify1 
nay compose our very life1 are of daily 
occurrence4 ,they  are due to the fact  
that the human intelligence in process  
of time  discovers1 not only the        
nakedness1 but even the skeleton of     
things3  wisdom also1 which was regarded
 by the ancients as the consolation  and
 chief cure for our unhappiness1 has    
been obliged to impeach our  condition1 
and almost requires a consolation for   
itself1 since had  not men followed it1 
they would not have known the greatness 
of their  misfortune1 or at least would 
have been able to remedy it with hope4  
,but the ancients used to believe1      
according to the teaching of ,nature1   
that things were things1 and not        
appearances1 and that human life was    
destined to partake of happiness as well

 as unhappiness4 ,consequently1  such   
apostasies as these were very rare1 and 
were the result not of  passions and    
vices1 but of a sentiment and           
realisation of the truth of  things4    
,therefore they deserve careful and     
philosophical consideration4    ,the    
words of ,theophrastus are the more     
surprising when we think of  the        
circumstances in which he died4 ,he was 
prosperous and successful2  and it would
 seem as though he could not have a     
single cause for  regret4 ,his chief    
aim1 glory1 he had succeeded in         
acquiring long  ago4 ,the utterance of  
,brutus1 on the other hand1 was one of  
those  inspirations of misfortune which 
sometimes open out a new world to  our  
minds1 and persuade us of truths that   
require a long time for  the mere       
intelligence to discover4 ,misfortune   
may indeed be compared  in its effect to
 the frenzy of lyric poets1 who at a    
glance1 as if  situated in a lofty      
place1 take in as much of the domain of 

human  knowledge as requires many       
centuries before it be discerned by     
philosophers4 ,in almost all ancient    
writings 7whether philosophical1        
poetical1 historical1 or aught else71 we
 meet with many very sorrowful          
expressions1 common enough to us        
nowadays1 but strange to the people of  
those times4 ,these sentences1 however1 
were mostly due to the innate  or       
accidental misfortune of the writer1 or 
the persons who spoke them1  whether    
imaginary or real4 ,and rarely we find  
on the monuments of the  ancients any   
expression of the sadness or ennui which
 they felt because  of the unreality of 
happiness1 or their misfortunes1 whether
 natural1  or due to force of           
circumstances4 ,for when they suffered1 
they lamented  their sufferings as the  
only hindrance to their happiness1 which
 they  not only considered it possible  
to obtain1 but even man's right1        
although ,fate proved sometimes too     
strong4    ,now1 let us seek what could 

have placed in the mind of ,theophrastus
  this sentiment about the vanity of    
glory and life1 which1 considering  his 
epoch and nation1 is an extraordinary   
one4 ,in the first place1  we find that 
the studies of this philosopher were not
 limited to one  or two branches of     
science4 ,the record of his writings1   
which are  mostly lost1 informs us that 
his knowledge included little less than 
everything then knowable4 ,and this     
universal science was not like  that of 
,plato1 subordinated to his imagination1
 but conformed to the  teaching of      
,aristotle in being the result of       
experience and reason2 its  aim1 too1   
was not the discovery of the beautiful1 
but that which is its  especial         
contrary1 the useful4 ,this being so1 it
 is not wonderful that  ,theophrastus   
should attain to the height of human    
wisdom1--that is1 a  knowledge of the   
vanity of life1 and wisdom itself4 ,for 
it is a fact  that the numerous         
discoveries made recently by            

philosophers about the  nature of men   
and things1 are chiefly the result of a 
comparison and  synthesis of the        
different sciences and studies1 whereby 
the mutual  connection between the most 
distant parts of nature is demonstrated4
    ,besides1 from his book of          
,characters we learn how clearly        
,theophrastus discerned the qualities   
and manners of men2 indeed1 with  the   
exception of the poets1 very few ancient
 writers equal him in  this respect4    
,and this faculty is the sure sign of a 
mind capable of  numerous1 diverse1 and 
powerful sensations4 ,for1 to produce a 
keen  representation of the moral       
qualities and passions of men1 the      
writer  relies less on what actual facts
 he may have collected1 or observations 
made1 about the manners of others1 than 
on his own mind1 even though  his       
personal habits be very different from  
those of his subjects4    ,massillon was
 asked one day what enabled him to      
describe so naturally  the habits and   

feelings of men1 who1 like himself1     
lived more in  solitude than society4   
,he replied3 ,i contemplate myself4     
,dramatists  and other poets do the same
 thing4 ,now a many-sided mind1 subtle  
in  discernment1 cannot but feel the    
nakedness and absolute unhappiness  of  
life2 it acquires a tendency to sadness 
after meditation excited  by numerous   
studies1 especially such as are         
concerned with the very  essence of     
things1 like the speculative sciences4  
,it is certain that ,theophrastus1 who  
loved study and glory above  everything1
 and was master or rather founder of a  
very numerous school1  knew and formally
 announced the uselessness of human     
exertions1  including his own teaching  
and that of others2 the little affinity 
existing between virtue and happiness of
 life2 and the superior power  of       
fortune to merit in the acquirement of  
happiness1 equally among  the wise and  
others4 ,in this respect1 perhaps1 he   
was superior to  all the ,greek         

philosophers1 especially those preceding
 ,epicurus1  from whom both in manners  
and thought he was essentially          
different4  ,this is owing partly to    
circumstances already mentioned1 and is 
also  due to other things referred to by
 ancient writers on the subject  of his 
teaching ,it would seem as though his   
own fate has proved the  truth of his   
doctrine4 ,for he is not esteemed by    
modern philosophers  as he ought to be1 
since all his moral writings are lost1  
with the  exception of his ,characters4 
,his writings1 too1 on the subjects of  
politics and laws1 and almost all those 
relating to metaphysics1 are  also      
missing4 ,besides1 the ancient          
philosophers were little inclined  to   
give him credit for keener perception   
than they possessed2 on the  contrary1  
many of them1 especially such as were   
shallow and conceited1  blamed and      
ill-treated him4 ,these men taught that 
the wise man is  essentially happy1 and 
that virtue and wisdom suffice to       

procure  happiness2 although they were  
only too well aware of the contrary1    
even  supposing they had any real       
knowledge of either the one or the      
other4  ,philosophers will never be     
cured of this idea4 ,even the philosophy
 of  the present day teaches the same   
thing2 whereas1 correctly speaking1 it  
can only say that everything beautiful1 
delightful1 and great1 is mere  falsity 
and nothingness4    ,but to return to   
,theophrastus4 ,most of the ancients    
were incapable of  the profound and     
sorrowful sentiment that inspired him4  
,theophrastus  is roughly handled by all
 the philosophers in their writings and 
schools for having praised this saying  
of ,callisthenes3 ',fortune1 not        
wisdom1 is the mistress of life4' ,they 
consider that no philosopher  ever gave 
expression to a weaker sentiment4 ,so   
says ,cicero1 who in  another place     
remarks that ,theophrastus in his book  
about ,the ,happy  ,life1 attributed    
much influence to fortune1 which he     

considered a most  important factor of  
happiness4 ,again1 he adds1 ,let us make
 much use of  ,theophrastus2 but give   
virtue more reality and value than he   
gave to  it4    ,perhaps it may be      
imagined from these remarks that        
,theophrastus had  little sympathy with 
the weaknesses of human nature1 and that
 he  waged war against their influence  
in public and private life1 both  by his
 writings and actions4 ,it might also be
 thought that he would  restrict the    
empire of the imagination in favour of  
that of reason4 ,as  a matter of fact1  
he did just the contrary4 ,concerning   
his actions1  we read in ,plutarch's    
book against ,colotes that our          
philosopher twice  freed his country    
from a tyranny4 ,as for his teachings1  
,cicero says  that ,theophrastus in a   
writing on the subject of ,wealth1      
dilated  at considerable length on the  
advantages of magnificence and pomp  at 
the shows and national festivals2 indeed
 he considered the chief  usefulness of 

riches to lie in the consequent power of
 expenditure  that accompanied them4    
,this idea is blamed and ridiculed by   
,cicero1  with whom1 however1 ,i will   
not discuss the question1 for his       
superficial knowledge of philosophy     
might have easily led him to a  wrong   
conclusion4 ,i imagine ,cicero to have  
been a man rich in civil and  domestic  
virtues1 but ignorant of the greatest   
stimulants and bulwarks  of virtue that 
the world possesses1 namely1 those      
things that are  peculiarly adapted to  
excite and arouse the mind1 and exercise
 the  powers of the imagination4    ,i  
will merely say that those men among1   
the ancients and moderns  who knew best 
and realised most strongly and deeply   
the nullity of  everything1 and the     
force of truth1 have not only refrained 
from  endeavouring to lead others to    
their condition1 but have even laboured 
hard to conceal and disguise it from    
themselves4 ,they acted like men  who   
had learnt from experience the          

wretchedness that resulted from  wisdom 
and knowledge4 ,many celebrated examples
 of this are furnished1  especially in  
recent times4 ,truly1 if our            
philosophers fully understood  what they
 endeavour to teach1 and realised in    
their own persons the  consequences of  
their philosophy1 instead of welcoming  
their knowledge1  they would hate and   
abhor it4 ,they would strive to forget  
what they  know1 and to shut' their eyes
 to that which they see4 ,they would    
take  refuge1 as their best resource1 in
 those sweet unrealities1 which  ,nature
 herself has placed in all our minds2   
nor would they think it  well to enforce
 on others the doctrine of the          
nothingness of all  things4 ,if1        
however1 desire of glory should incite  
them to do this  last1 they will admit  
that in this part of the universe we can
 only  live by putting faith in things  
that are non-existent4    ,there is     
another considerable difference between 
the circumstances  of ,theophrastus and 

,brutus1 that of time4 ,when            
,theophrastus lived1  the influence of  
those fictions and phantoms which ruled 
the thoughts  and actions of the        
ancients1 had not departed4 ,the epoch  
of ,brutus1  on the other hand1 may be  
termed the last age of the imagination4 
,knowledge and experience of the truth  
prevailed amongst the people4  ,had it  
not been so1 ,brutus need not have fled 
from life as he did1  and the ,roman    
republic would not have died with him4  
,and not only the  republic1 but also   
the whole of antiquity1 that is1 the old
 customs  and characteristics of the    
civilised world1 were at the point of   
death1 together with the opinions which 
gave birth to1 and supported  them4     
,life had already lost its value1 and   
wise men sought to console  themselves  
not so much for their fate as for       
existence itself2 because  they regarded
 it as incredible that man should be    
born essentially  and solely for misery4
 ,thus they arrived at the conception of

 another  life1 which might explain the 
reason of virtue and noble actions4     
,such  explanation had hitherto been    
found in life itself1 but was so no     
longer1 nor was it ever again to be     
found there4    ,to these ideas of      
futurity are due the noble sentiments   
often expressed  by ,cicero1 especially 
in his oration for ,archias4            
,,dialogue ,,between ,,tristano ,,and ,a
 ,,friend4      ,friend4 ,i have read   
your book4 ,it is as melancholy as      
usual4    ,tristano4 ,yes1 as usual4    
,friend4 ,melancholy1 disconsolate1     
hopeless4 ,it is clear that this  life  
appears to you an abominable thing4     
,tristano4 ,how can ,i excuse myself8 ,i
 was then so firmly convinced of  the   
truth of my notion about the unhappiness
 of life4    ,friend4 ,unhappy it may   
be4 ,but even then1 what good 444       
,tristano4 ,no1 no2 on the contrary1 it 
is very happy4 ,i have changed  my      
opinion now4 ,but when ,i wrote this    
book ,i had that folly in my  head1 as  

,i tell you4 ,and ,i was so full of it1 
that ,i should have  expected anything  
rather than to doubt the truth of what  
,i wrote on the  subject4 ,for ,i       
thought the conscience of every reader  
would assuredly  bear witness to the    
truth of my statements4 ,i imagined     
there might  be differences of opinion  
as to the use or harm of my writings1   
but  none as to their truth4 ,i also    
believed that my lamentations1 since    
they were aroused by misfortunes common 
to all1 would be echoed in  the heart of
 every one who heard them4 ,and when ,i 
afterwards felt  impelled to deny1 not  
merely some particular observation1 but 
the whole  fabric of my book1 and to say
 that life is not unhappy1 and that if  
it seemed so to me1 it must have been   
the effect of illness1 or some  other   
misfortune peculiar to myself1 ,i was at
 first amazed1 astonished1  petrified1  
and for several days as though          
transported into another  world4 ,then  
,i began to think1 and was a little     

irritated with myself4  ,finally ,i     
laughed1 and said to myself that the    
human race possesses  a characteristic  
common to husbands4 ,for a married man  
who wishes  to live a quiet life1 relies
 on the fidelity of his wife1 even when 
half the world knows she is faithless4  
,similarly1 when a man takes  up his    
abode in any country1 he makes up his   
mind to regard it as  one of the best   
countries in the world1 and he does so4 
,for the same  reason1 men1 desiring to 
live1 agree to consider life a          
delightful and  valuable thing2 they    
therefore believe it to be so1 and are  
angry with  whoever is of the contrary  
opinion4 ,hence it follows1 that in     
reality  people always believe1 not the 
truth1 but what is1 or appears to be1   
best for them4 ,the human race1 which   
has believed1 and will continue  to put 
faith in so many absurdities1 will never
 acknowledge that it  knows nothing1    
that it is nothing1 and that it has     
nothing to hope4 ,no  philosopher       

teaching any one of these three things  
would be successful1  nor would he have 
followers1 and the populace especially  
would refuse  to believe in him4 ,for1  
apart from the fact that all three      
doctrines  have little to recommend them
 to any one who wishes to live1 the two 
first offend man's pride1 and they all  
require courage and strength  of mind in
 him who accepts them4 ,now1 men are    
cowards1 of ignoble and  narrow minds1  
and always anticipating good1 because   
always ready to  vary their ideas of    
good according to the necessities of    
life4 ,they  are very willing1 as       
,petrarch says1 to surrender to fortune2
 very  eager and determined to console  
themselves in any misfortune2 and  to   
accept any compensation in exchange for 
what is denied them1 or  for that which 
they have lost2 and to accommodate      
themselves to any  condition of life1   
however wicked and barbarous4 ,when     
deprived of any  desirable thing1 they  
nourish themselves on illusions1 from   

which they  derive as much satisfaction 
as if their conceptions were the most   
genuine and real things in the world4   
,as for me1 ,i cannot refrain from      
laughing at the human race1 enamoured of
 life1 just as the people in  the south 
of ,europe laugh at husbands enamoured  
of faithless wives4  ,i consider men    
show very little courage in thus        
allowing themselves  to be deceived and 
deluded like fools2 they are not only   
content to  bear the greatest           
sufferings1 but also are willing to be  
as it were  puppets of ,nature and      
,destiny4 ,i here refer to the          
deceptions of the  intellect1 not the   
imagination4 ,whether these sentiments  
of mine are  the result of illness1 ,i  
do not know2 but ,i do know that1 well  
or ill1  ,i despise men's cowardice1 ,i 
reject every childish consolation and   
illusive comfort1 and am courageous     
enough to bear the deprivation of  every
 hope1 to look steadily on the desert of
 life1 to hide no part of  our          

unhappiness1 and to accept all the      
consequences of a philosophy1  sorrowful
 but true4 ,this philosophy1 if of no   
other use1 gives the  courageous man the
 proud satisfaction of being able to    
rend asunder the  cloak that conceals   
the hidden and mysterious cruelty of    
human destiny4    ,this ,i said to      
myself1 almost as though ,i were the    
inventor of this  bitter philosophy1    
which ,i saw rejected by every one as a 
new and  unheard-of thing4 ,but1 on     
reflection1 ,i found that it dated from 
the  time of ,solomon1 ,homer1 and the  
most ancient poets and philosophers1    
who abound with fables and sayings which
 express the unhappiness of  human life4
 ,one says that man is the most         
miserable of the animals4  ,another     
that1 it were better not to be born1 or1
 being born1 to die in  the cradle4     
,again1 whom the gods love1 die young2  
besides numberless  other similar       
sayings4 ,and ,i also remembered that   
from then even until  now1 all poets1   

philosophers1 and writers1 great and    
small1 have in one  way or another      
echoed and confirmed the same doctrines4
    ,then ,i began to think again1 and  
spent a long time in a state of  wonder1
 contempt1 and laughter4 ,at length ,i  
turned to study the matter  more deeply1
 and came to the conclusion that man's  
unhappiness is one  of the innate errors
 of the mind1 and that the refutation of
 this idea1  through the demonstration  
of the happiness of life1 is one of the 
greatest discoveries of the nineteenth  
century4 ,now1 therefore1 ,i am at      
peace1 and confess ,i was wrong to hold 
the views ,i previously held4           
,friend4 ,then have you changed your    
opinion8    ,tristano4 ,of course4 ,do  
you imagine ,i should oppose the        
discoveries  of the nineteenth century8 
,friend4 ,do you believe all the century
 believes8    ,tristano4 ,certainly4    
,why not8    ,friend4 ,you believe then 
in the infinite perfectibility of the   
human  race1 do you not8 ,tristano4     

,undoubtedly4    ,friend4 ,do you also  
believe that the human race actually    
progresses  daily8    ,tristano4        
,assuredly4 ,it is true that sometimes  
,i think one of the  ancients was       
physically worth four of us4 ,and the   
body is the man2  because 7apart from   
all else7 high-mindedness1 courage1 the 
passions1  capacity for action and      
enjoyment1 and all that ennobles and    
vivifies  life1 depend on the vigour of 
the body1 without which they cannot     
exist4 ,the weak man is not a man1 but a
 child1 and less than a child1  because 
it is his fate to stand aside and see   
others live4 ,all he can  do is to      
chatter4 ,life is not for him4 ,hence in
 olden times1 and even  in more         
enlightened ages1 weakness of body was  
regarded as ignominious4    ,but with   
us1 it is very long since education     
deigned to think of such  a base and    
abject thing as the body4 ,the mind is  
its sole care4 ,yet1  in its endeavours 
to cultivate the mind1 it destroys the  

body without  perceiving that the former
 is also necessarily destroyed4 ,and    
even if  it were possible to remedy this
 false system of education1 it would be 
impossible to discover1 without a       
radical change in the state of modern   
society1 any cure for the other         
inconveniences of life1 whether public  
or private4    ,everything that formerly
 tended to preserve and perfect the     
body1 seems  to-day to be in conspiracy 
for its destruction4 ,the consequence   
is1  that1 compared with the ancients1  
we are little better than children1  and
 they in comparison with us may indeed  
be termed perfect men4 ,i  refer equally
 to individuals in comparison with      
individuals1 as to the  masses 7to use  
this most expressive modern term7       
compared to the masses4    ,i will add  
also that the superior vigour of the    
ancients is manifested  in their moral  
and metaphysical systems4    ,but ,i do 
not allow myself to be influenced by    
such trifling objections1  and ,i firmly

 believe that the human race is         
perpetually in a state of  progression4 
,friend4 ,you believe also1 if ,i       
rightly understand you1 that  knowledge1
 or1 as1 it is called1 enlightenment1   
continually increases4    ,tristano4    
,assuredly4 ,although ,i observe that   
the desire of knowledge  grows in       
proportion as the appreciation for study
 diminishes4 ,and1  astonishing to say1 
if you count up the number of truly     
learned men who  lived contemporaneously
 a hundred and fifty years ago1 or even 
later1  you will find them incomparably 
more numerous than at present4 ,it may  
perhaps be said that learned people are 
rare nowadays because knowledge  is more
 universally disseminated1 instead of   
being confined to the  heads of a few2  
and that the multitude of educated      
people compensate  for the rarity of    
learned people4 ,but knowledge is not   
like riches1  which whether divided or  
accumulated1 always make the same total4
 ,in a  country where every one knows a 

little1 the total knowledge is small2   
because knowledge begets knowledge1 but 
will not bear dispersion4  ,for         
superficial instruction cannot indeed be
 divided amongst many1  though it may be
 common to many unlearned men4 ,genuine 
knowledge  belongs only to the learned1 
and depth in knowledge to the few that  
are very learned4 ,and1 with rare       
exceptions1 only the man who is very    
learned1 and possessed of an immense    
fund of knowledge1 is able to add       
materially to the sum of human science4 
,now1 in the present time1 it is  daily 
more difficult to discover a really     
learned man1 save perhaps in  ,germany1 
where science is not yet dethroned4     
,i utter these reflections simply for   
the sake of a little talk and           
philosophising1 not because ,i doubt for
 a single moment the truth of  what you 
say4 ,indeed1 were ,i to see the world  
quite full of ignorant  impostors on the
 one hand1 and presumptuous fools on the
 other1 ,i  should still hold to my     

present belief that knowledge and       
enlightenment  are on the increase4     
,friend4 ,of course1 then1 you believe  
that this century is superior to  all   
the preceding ones8    ,tristano4       
,decidedly4 ,all the centuries have had 
this opinion of  themselves2 even those 
of the most barbarous ages4 ,the present
 century  thinks so1 and ,i agree with  
it4 ,but if you asked me in what it is  
superior to the others1 and whether in  
things pertaining to the body or  the   
mind1 ,i should refer you to what ,i    
said just now on the subject of         
progress4    ,friend4 ,in short1 to sum 
it up in two words1 do you agree with   
what  the journals say about nature1 and
 human destiny8 ,we are not now  talking
 of literature or politics1 on which    
subjects their opinion is  indisputable4
    ,tristano4 ,precisely4 ,i bow before
 the profound philosophy of  the        
journals1 which will in time supersede  
every other branch of  literature1 and  
every serious and exacting study4 ,the  

journals are the  guides and lights of  
the present age4 ,is it not so8         
,friend4 ,very true4 ,unless you are    
speaking ironically1 you have  become   
one of us4    ,tristano4 ,yes4          
,certainly ,i have4    ,friend4 ,then   
what shall you do with your book8 ,will 
you allow it to  go down to posterity1  
conveying doctrines so contrary to the  
opinions  you now hold8    ,tristano4   
,to posterity8 ,permit me to laugh1     
since you are no doubt  joking2 if ,i   
thought otherwise1 ,i should laugh all  
the more4 ,for it  is not a personal    
matter1 but one relating to the         
individuals and  individual things of   
the nineteenth century2 about whom and  
which there  is no fear of the judgment 
of posterity1 since they will know no   
more  about the matter than their       
ancestors knew4 ,individuals are        
eclipsed  in the crowd1 as our modern   
thinkers elegantly say2 which means1    
that  the individual need not put       
himself to any inconvenience1 because1  

whatever his merit1 he can neither hope 
for the miserable reward of  glory1 in  
reality1 nor in his dreams4    ,leave   
therefore the masses to themselves2     
although ,i would ask the  wiseacres who
 illumine the world in the present day1 
to explain how the  masses can do       
anything without the help of the        
individuals that compose  them4    ,but 
to return to my book1 and posterity4    
,books now are generally  written in    
less time than is necessary for reading 
them4 ,their worth is  proportioned to  
their cost1 and their longevity to their
 value4 ,it is  my opinion that the     
twentieth century will make a very clean
 sweep of  the immense bibliography of  
the nineteenth4 ,perhaps however it will
 say  something to this effect3 ,we have
 here whole libraries of books which    
have cost some twenty1 some thirty years
 of labour1 and some less1 but  all have
 required very great exertion2 let us   
read these first1 because  it is        
probable there is much to be learnt from

 them4 ,these at an end1  we will pass  
to lighter literature4    ,my friend1   
this is a puerile age1 and the few men  
remaining are  obliged to hide          
themselves for very shame1 resembling1  
as they do1  a well-formed man in a land
 of cripples4 ,and these good youths of 
the century are desirous of doing all   
that their ancestors did4 ,like         
children they wish to act on the spur of
 the moment1 without any  laborious     
preparation4 ,they would like the       
progress of the age to be  such as to   
exempt them and their successors from   
all fatiguing study  and application in 
the acquirement of knowledge4 ,for      
instance1 a  commercial friend of mine  
told me the other day that even         
mediocrity  has become very rare4       
,scarcely any one is fit to fulfil      
properly the  duty which devolves upon  
him1 either by necessity or choice4     
,this  seems to me to mark the true     
distinction between this century and    
the preceding ones4 ,at all times       

greatness has been rare2 but in  former 
centuries mediocrity prevailed1 whereas 
in our century nullity  prevails4 ,all  
people wish to be everything4 ,hence1   
there is such  confusion and riot1 that 
no attention is paid to the few great   
men  who are still to be found1 and who 
are unable to force a way through  the  
vast multitude of rivals4 ,thus1 whilst 
the lowest people believe  themselves   
illustrious1 obscurity and success in   
nothing is the common  fate both of the 
highest and lowest4    ,but1 long live  
statistics6 ,long live the sciences1    
economical1 moral1  and political2 the  
pocket encyclopdias2 the manuals of     
everything2  and all the other fine     
creations of our age6 ,and may the      
nineteenth  century live for ever6 ,for 
though poor in results1 it is yet very  
rich  and great in promise1 which' is   
well known to be the best of signs4 ,let
  us therefore console ourselves that   
for sixty-six#a more years this         
admirable century will have the talking 

to itself1 and will be able to  utter   
its own opinions4    ,friend4 ,you      
speak1 it seems1 somewhat ironically4   
,but you ought at  least to remember    
that this is a century of transition4   
,tristano4 ,what do you infer from that8
 ,all centuries have been1 and  will be1
 more or less transitional2 because     
human society is never  stationary1 and 
will never at any time attain to a fixed
 condition4  ,it follows therefore that 
this fine word is either no excuse for  
the  nineteenth century1 or is one      
common to all the centuries4 ,it remains
  to be seen whether the transition now 
in progress is from good to  better1 or 
from bad to worse4    ,but perhaps you  
mean to say that the present age is     
especially  transitional1 inasmuch as it
 is a rapid passage from one state of   
civilisation to another1 absolutely     
different4 ,in which case ,i would  ask 
your permission to laugh at this        
rapidity4 ,every transition  requires a 
certain amount of time1 and when too    

rapidly accomplished1  invariably       
relapses1 and the progress has to       
recommence from the  very beginning4    
,thus it has always been4 ,for nature   
does not advance  by leaps2 and when    
forced1 no durable result is obtained4  
,in short1  precipitous transitions are 
only apparent transitions1 and do not   
represent genuine progress4    ,friend4 
,i advise you not to talk in this       
fashion with every one1  because if you 
do you will gain many enemies4          
,tristano4 ,what does it matter8        
,henceforth1 neither enemies nor        
friends can do me much harm4    ,friend4
 ,very probably you will be despised as 
one incapable of  comprehending the     
spirit of modern philosophy1 and who    
cares little for  the progress of       
civilisation and the sciences4          
,tristano4 ,i should be very sorry for  
that2 but what can ,i do8 ,if ,i am     
despised1 ,i will endeavour to console  
myself4    ,friend4 ,but have you1 or   
have you not1 changed your opinions8    

,and  what is to be done about your     
book8    ,tristano4 ,it would be best to
 burn it4 ,if it be not burnt1 it may be
  preserved as a book full of poetic    
dreams1 inventions1 and melancholy      
caprices2 or better1 as an expression of
 the unhappiness of the writer4         
,because1 ,i will tell you in           
confidence1 my dear friend1 that ,i     
believe  you and every one else to be   
happy4 ,as for myself1 however1 with    
your  permission1 and that of the       
century1 ,i am very unhappy1 and all the
  journals of both worlds cannot        
persuade me to the contrary4    ,friend4
 ,i do not know the cause of this       
unhappiness of which you  speak4 ,but a 
man is the best judge of his own        
happiness or unhappiness1  and his      
opinion cannot be wrong4    ,tristano4  
,very true4 ,and more1 ,i tell you      
frankly that ,i do not  submit to my    
unhappiness1 nor bow the head1 and come 
to terms with  ,destiny1 like other men4
 ,i ardently wish for death above       

everything1  with such warmth and       
sincerity as ,i firmly believe few have 
desired it4    ,i would not speak to you
 thus1 if ,i were not sure that when the
 time  came ,i should not belie my      
words4 ,i may add that although ,i do   
not  yet foresee the end of my life1 ,i 
have an inward feeling that almost      
assures me the hour of which ,i speak is
 not far distant4 ,i am more  than ripe 
for death1 and it seems to me too absurd
 and improbable1  that being dead       
spiritually1 as ,i am1 and the tale of  
my life being  told in every part1 ,i   
should linger out the forty or fifty    
years with  which ,nature threatens me4 
,i am terrified at the mere thought of  
such  a thing4 ,but1 like all evils that
 exceed the power of imagination1  this 
seems to me a dream and illusion1 devoid
 of truth4 ,so that if any  one speaks  
to me about the distant future1 as      
though ,i were to have a  part in it1 ,i
 cannot help smiling to myself1 so sure 
am ,i that ,i have  not long to live4   

,this thought1 ,i may say1 alone        
supports me4 ,books  and studies1 which 
,i often wonder ,i ever loved1 great    
designs1 and  hopes of glory and        
immortality1 are things now undeserving 
of even a  smile4 ,nor do ,i now laugh  
at the projects and hopes of this       
century4 ,i  cordially wish them every  
possible success1 and ,i praise1 admire1
 and  sincerely honour their good       
intentions4 ,but ,i do not envy         
posterity1  nor those who have still a  
long life before them4 ,formerly ,i used
 to  envy fools1 imbeciles1 and people  
with a high opinion of themselves1  and 
,i would willingly have changed my lot  
with any one of them4 ,now1  ,i envy    
neither fools1 nor the wise1 the great1 
the small1 the weak1  the powerful4 ,i  
envy the dead1 and with them alone would
 ,i exchange my  lot4 ,every pleasurable
 fancy1 every thought of the future that
 comes  to me in my solitude1 and with  
which ,i pass away the time1 is allied  
with the thought of death1 from which it

 is inseparable4 ,and in this  longing1 
neither the remembrance of my childish  
dreams1 nor the thought  of having lived
 in vain1 disturbs me any more as       
formerly4 ,when death  comes to me1 ,i  
shall die as peacefully and contentedly 
as if it were  the only thing for which 
,i had ever wished in the world4 ,this  
is the  sole prospect that reconciles me
 to ,destiny4    ,if1 on the one hand1  
,i were offered the fortune and fame of 
,csar or  ,alexander1 free from the     
least stain2 and1 on the other hand1    
death  to-day1 ,i should unhesitatingly 
choose to die to-day4      ,footnote #a3
 ,written in #ahcd4        ,,the ,,end4