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Grice e Carando – l’implicatura
conversazionale di Socrate – filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza (Pettinengo).
Filosofo italiano. Grice: “I like Carando; a typical Italian philosopher, got
his ‘laurea,’ and attends literary salons! – There is a street named after him
– whereas at Oxford the most we have is a “Logic lane!” -- Ennio Carando (Pettinengo), filosofo. Studia
a Torino. Si avvicina all'anti-fascismo attraverso l'influenza di Juvalta (con
cui discusse la tesi di laurea) e di Martinetti. Collaborò alla Rivista di filosofia
di Martinetti, dove pubblicò un saggio su Spir. Insegna a Cuneo, Modena,
Savona, La Spezia. Sebbene fosse quasi completamente cieco dopo l'armistizio si
diede ad organizzare formazioni partigiane in Liguria e in Piemonte (fu anche
presidente del secondo CLN spezzino). Era ispettore del Raggruppamento
Divisioni Garibaldi nel Cuneese, quando fu catturato in seguito ad una
delazione. Sottoposto a torture atroci,
non tradì i compagni di lotta e fu trucidato con il fratello Ettore, capitano
di artiglieria a cavallo in servizio permanente effetivo e capo di stato maggiore
della I Divisione Garibaldi. Un filosofo socratico. La metafisica civile di un
filosofo socratico. Partigiano. Dopo l'armistizio
Ennio Carando, che insegnava a La Spezia presso il Liceo Classico Costa, entrò
attivamente nella lotta di liberazione organizzando formazioni partigiane in
Liguria e in Piemonte. A chi gli chiedeva di non avventurarsi in quella
decisione così pericolosa rispondeva fermamente: "Molti dei miei allievi
sono caduti: un giorno i loro genitori potrebbero rimproverarmi di non aver
avuto il loro stesso coraggio". For centuries the First Alkibiades was
respected as a major dialogue in the Platonic corpus. It was considered
by the Academy to be the proper introduction to the study of Plato's
dialogues, and actually formed the core of the serious beginner's study
of philosophy. Various ancient critics have written major commentaries
upon the dialogue (most of which have subsequently been lost). In short,
it was looked upon as a most important work by those arguably in the best
position to know. In comparatively recent times the First
Alkibiades has lost its status. Some leading Platonic scholars judge it
to be spurious, and as a result it is seldom read as seriously as several
other Platonic dialogues. This thesis attempts a critical examination of
the dialogue with an eye towards deciding which judgement of it, the
ancient or the modern, ought to be accepted. I wish to take advantage of
this opportunity at last to thank my mother and father and my sister.
Lea, who have always given freely of themselves to assist me. I am also
grateful to my friends, in particular Pat Malcolmson and Stuart Bodard,
who, through frequent and serious conversations proved themselves to be
true dialogic partners. Thanks are also due to Monika Porritt for her
assistance with the manuscript. My deepest gratitude and affection
extend to Leon Craig, to whom I owe more than I am either able, or
willing, to express here. Overpowering curiosity may be aroused in a
reader upon his noticing how two apparently opposite men, Socrates and
Alkibiades, are drawn to each other's conversation and company. Such
seems to be the effect achieved by the First Alkibiades , a dialogic
representation of the beginning of their association. Of all the people named
in the titles of Platonic dialogues, Alkibiades was probably the most
famous. It seems reasonable to assume that one's appreciation of the
dialogue would be en¬ hanced by knowing as much about the historical
Alkibiades as would the typical educated Athenian reader. Accordingly,
this examination of the dialogue will commence by recounting the major
events of Alkibiades' scareer, on the premise that such a reminder may enrich a
philosophic understanding of the First Alkibiades. The historical
Alkibiades was born to Kleinias and Deinomakhe. Although the
precise date of his birth remains unknown (cf. 121d), it was most
surely before 450 B.C. His father, Kleinias, was one of the wealthy
men in Athens, financially capable of furnishing and outfitting a
trireme in wartime. Of Deinomakhe we know nothing save that she was well
born. As young children Alkibiades and his brother, Kleinias, lost
their father 4 in battle and were made wards of their
uncle, the renowned Penkles. He is recognized by posterity as one
of the greatest statesmen of Greece. Athens prospered during his lengthy
rule in office and flourished to such an extent that the "Golden Age
of Greece" is also called the "Age of Perikles." When Alkibiades
came under his care, Perikles held the highest office in Athens and
governed almost continuously until his death which occurred shortly after
the outbreak of the Peloponnesian War. At an early age Alkibiades was
distinguished for his striking beauty and his multi-faceted excellence.
He desired to be triumphant in all he undertook and generally was so. In
games and sport with other boys he is said to have taken a lion's share
of victories. There are no portraits of Alkibiades in existence from
which one might judge his looks, but it is believed that he served his
contemporaries as the standard artistic model for representations of the
gods. No doubt partly because of his appearance and demeanor, he strongly
influenced his boyhood companions. For example, it was rumored that
Alkibiades was averse to the flute because it prevented the player from
singing, as well as dis¬ figuring his face. Refusing to take lessons, he
referred to Athenian deities as exemplars, calling upon Athena and
Apollon who had shown disdain for the flute and for flautists. Within a short
time flute-playing had ceased to be regarded as a standard part of
the curriculum for a gentleman's education. Alkibiades was most surely the talk
of the town among the young men and it is scarcely a wonder that
tales of his youthful escapades abound. Pursued by many lovers, he
for the most part scorned such attentions. On one occasion Anytos, who was
infatuated with Alkibiades, invited him to a dinner party. Instead, Alkibiades
went drinking with some of his friends. During the evening he collected
his servants and bade them interrupt Anytos' supper and remove half of
the golden cups and silver ornaments from the table. Alkibiades did not
even bother to enter. The other guests grumbled about this hybristic
treatment of Anytos, who responded that on the contrary Alkibiades had been
moderate and kind in leaving half when he might have absconded with all.
Alkibiades certainly seems to have enjoyed an extraordinary sway over
some of his admirers. Alkibiades sought to enter Athenian politics as
soon as he became eligible and at about that time he first met
Socrates. The First Alkibiades is a dramatic representation of what might
have happened at that fateful meeting. Fateful it was indeed, for the
incalculable richness of the material it has provided for later thought as well
as for the lives of the two men. By his own admission, Alkibiades felt that
his feeling shame could be occasioned only by Socrates. Though it
caused him discomfort, Alkibiades nevertheless chronically returned
to occasion to save Alkibiades' life. The generals were about
to confer on him a prize for his valor but he insisted it be awarded to
AlkiThis occurred near the beginning of their friendship, at the start of
the Peloponnesian War. Later, during the Athenian defeat at the
battle of Delion, Alkibiades repaid him in kind. In the role of
cavalryman, he defended Socrates who was on foot. Shortly thereafter,
Alkibiades charged forward into politicsbiades., campaigns he mounted
invariably meeting with success. Elected strategos (general) in 420 B.C.
on the basis of his exploits, he was one of the youngest ever to wield
such high authority. Generally opposing Nikias and the plan for peace,
Alkibiades as the leader of the democrats allied Athens with various
enemies of Sparta. His grandiose plans for the navy rekindled Athenian
ambitions for empire which had been at best smouldering since the death
of Perikles. Alkibiades' policy proposals favored the escalation of the
war, and he vocally supported Athens' con¬ tinuation of her position as
the imperial power in the Mediterranean. His first famous plan, the
Athenian alliance with Argos, is recounted in detail by Thucydides.
Thucydides provides an especially vivid portrait of Alkibiades and
indicates that he was unexcelled, both in terms of diplomatic maneuvering
and rhetorical ability. By arranging for the Spartan envoys to
modify their story from day to day, he managed to make Nikias look foolish
in his trust of them. Although Alkibiades suffered a temporary loss of
command, his continuing rivalry with Nikias secured him powerful
influence in Athens, which was heightened by an apparent failure of major
proportions by Nikias in Thrace. Alkibiades' sustained opposition to Nikias
prompted some of the radical democrats under Hyperbolos to petition for
an ostrakismos . This kind of legal ostracism was a device intended
primarily for the over¬ turning of stalemates. With a majority of the
vote an ostrakismos could be held. Citizens would then write on a
potsherd the name of the one man in all of Attika they would like to see
exiled. There has been famous ostracisms before this time, some ofwhich
were almost immediately regretted (e.g., Aristeides the Just, in 482
B.C.). At any rate, Hyperbolos campaigned to have Alkibiades ostracized.
Meanwhile, in one of their rare moments of agreement, Alkibiades
persuaded Nikias to join with him in a counter-campaign to ensure that
the percentage of votes required to effect Alkibiades' exile would not be
attained. They were so successful that the result of the ostrakismos was
the exile of Hyperbolos. That was Athen's last ostrakismos. Thucydides
devotes two books (arguably the most beautiful of his History of the
Peloponnesian War) to the Sicilian Expedition. This campaign Alkibiades
instigated is considered by many to be his most note¬ worthy adventure,
and was certainly one of the major events of the war. Alkibiades debated
with Nikias and convinced the Ekklesia (assembly) to launch the expedition.
Clearly no match for Alkibiades' rhetoric, Nikias, according to the
speeches of Thucydudes, worked an effect opposite his intentions when
he warned the Athenians of the ex- 19 Rather than being
daunted by the magnitude of the cost of the pense expedition,
the Athenians were eager to supply all that was necessary. This enthusiasm
was undoubtedly enhanced by the recent reports of the vast wealth
of Sicily. Nikias, Alkibiades and Lamakhos were appointed
co-commanders with full power (giving them more political authority
than anyone in Athen's recent history). Immediately prior to
the start of the expedition, the Hermai throughout Athens were
disfigured. The deed was a sacrilege as well as 22 a
bad omen for the expedition. Enemies of Alkibiades took this oppor¬
tunity to link him with the act since he was already suspected of pro¬faning
the Eleusian Mysteries and of generally having a hybristic dis¬ regard
for the conventional religion. He was formally charged with impiety.
Alkibiades wanted to have his trial immediately, arguing it would
not be good to command a battle with the charge remaining undecided. His
enemies, who suspected the entire military force would take Alkibiades'
side, urged that the trial be postponed so as not to delay the awaiting
fleet's scheduled departure. As a result they sailed with Alkibiades'
charge untried. When the generals arrived at Rhegion, they
discovered that the 24 stories of the wealth of the
place had been greatly exaggerated. Nonetheless, Alkibiades and
Lamakhos voted together against Nikias to remain and accomplish what they
had set out to do. Alkibiades thought it prudent that they first
establish which of their allies actually had been secured, and to
try to persuade the rest. Most imperative, he 26
believed, was the persuasion of the Messenians. The Messenians
would not admit Alkibiades at first, so he sailed to Naxos and then
to Katana. Naxos allied with Athens readily, but it is suspected
that the Katanaians had some force used upon them. Before the Athenians
could address the Messenians or the Rhegians, both of whom held
important geographic positions and were influential, a ship arrived
to take Alkibiades back to Athens. During his absence from Athens,
his enemies had worked hard to increase suspicion that he had been
responsible for the sacrilege, and now, with the populace aroused
against Alkibiades, they urged he be 28 immediately
recalled. Alkibiades set sail to return in his own ship, filled
with his friends. At Thouri they escaped and went to the
Peloponnese. Meanwhile the Athenians sentenced him to death. He revealed
to the Spartans his idea that Messenian support in the west was
crucial to Athens. The Spartans weren't willing to trust Alkibiades
given his generally anti- Spartan policies, and they particularly
did not appreciate his past treatment of the Spartan envoys. In a
spectacular speech, as recounted by Thucydides, Alkibiades defended
himself and his conduct in leaving 30 Athens. Along with a
delegation of Korinthians and Syrakusans, Alkibiades argued for Sparta's
participation in the war in Sicily. He also suggested to them that their
best move against Athens was to fortify a post at Dekelia in
Attika. In short, once again Alkibiades proved himself to be a
master of diplomacy, knowing the right thing to say at any given
time, even among sworn enemies. The Spartans welcomed Alkibiades. Because
of his knowledge of Athenian affairs, they acted 32
upon his advice about Dekelia (413 B.C.). Alkibiades did further
service for Sparta by inciting some Athenian allies in Asia Minor, par¬
ticularly at Khios, to revolt. He also suggested to Tissaphernes, the
Persian satrap of Asia Minor, that he ought to consider an alliance
with 33 Sparta. However, in 412 B.C. Alkibiades
lost favor with the Spartans. His loyalty was in doubt and he was
suspected of having seduced the Spartan queen; she became pregnant during
a long absence of the king. Alkibiades prudently moved on, this
time fleeing to the Persian court of Tissaphernes where he served
as an advisor to the satrap. He counselled
Tissaphernes to ally neither with Sparta nor with Athens; it would be
in his best interests to let them wear each other down.
Tissaphernes was pleased with this advice and soon listened to
Alkibiades on most matters, having, it seems, complete confidence
in him. Alkibiades told him to lower the rate of pay to the Spartan
navy in order to moderate their activities and ensure proper
conduct. He should also economize and reduce expenditures.
Alkibiades cautioned him against being too hurried in his wish for a
victory. Tissaphernes was so delighted with Alkibiades' counsel
that he had the most beautiful park in his domain named after him and
developed into a luxury resort. The Athenian fleet, in the
meantime, was at Samos, and with it lay the real power of Athens. The
city had been brought quite low by the war, especially the Sicilian
expedition, which left in the hands of the irresolute and superstitious
Nikias turned out to be disastrous for the Athenians. Alkibiades engaged
in a conspiracy to promote an oligarchic revolution in Athens, ostensibly
to ensure his own acceptance there. How¬ ever, when the revolution
occurred, in 411 B.C., and the Council of Four 37
Hundred was established, Alkibiades did not associate himself with
it. He attached himself to the fleet at Samos and relayed to them
the promise of support he had exacted from Tissaphernes. The support was
not forth¬ coming, however, but despite the sentiment among some of the
Athenians at Samos that Alkibiades intended to trick them, the commanders
and 38 soldiers were confident that Athens could never
rise without Alkibiades. They appointed him general and re-instated him
as the chief-in-command of the Athenian Navy. He sent a message to the
oligarchic Council of Four Hundred in Athens telling them he would
support a democratic boule of 5,000 but that the Four Hundred would have
to disband. There was no immediate response. In the meantime,
with comparatively few men and ships, Alkibiades managed to deflect
the Spartans from their plan to form an alliance with the Persian
fleet. Alkibiades became an increasingly popular general among the
men at Samos, and with his rhetorical abilities he dissuaded them
from adopting policies that would likely have proven disastrous. He
insisted they be more moderate, for example, in their treatment of
unfriendly ambassadors, such as those from Athens. The Council of
Four Hundred sent an emissary to Samos, but Alkibiades was firm
in his refusal to support them. This pleased the democrats, and since most
of the oligarchs were by this time split into several factions, the
rule of the 40 Four Hundred fragmented of its own
accord. Alkibiades sent advice from Samos as to the form of government the
5,000 should adopt, but he still 42 did not consider it
the proper time for his own return. During this time Alkibiades and
the Athenian fleet gained major victories, defeating the Spartans
at Kynossema, at Abydos (411 B.C.), and 43 at Kyzikos
(410 B.C.) Seeking to regain some control, Tissaphernes
had Alkibiades arrested on one occasion when he approached in a
single ship. It was a diplomatic visit, not a battle, yet
Tissaphernes had him imprisoned. Within a month, however,
Alkibiades and his men escaped. In order to ensure that
Tissaphernes would live to regret the arrest, Alkibiades caused a
story to be widely circulated to the effect that Tissaphernes had
arranged the escape. Suffice it to say the Great King of Persia was not
pleased. Alkibiades also recovered Kalkhedonia and Byzantion for the
Athenians. After gathering money from various sources and assuring
himself of the security of Athenian control of the Hellespont, he
at last decided to return to Athens. It had been an absence of
seven years. 46 He was met with an enthusiastic
reception in the Peiraeus. All charges against him were dropped and
the prevailing sentiment among the Athenians was that had they only
trusted in his leadership, they would still be the great empire they had
been. With the hope that he would be able to restore to them some of
their former glory, they appointed Alkibiades general with full powers, a
most extraordinary command. He gained further support from the Athenians
when he led the procession to Eleusis (the very mysteries of which he had
earlier been suspected of blaspheming) on the overland route. Several
years earlier, through fear of the Spartans at Dekelia, the procession
had broken tradition and gone by sea. This restoration of tradition
ensured Alkibiades political support from the more pious sector of the
public who had been hesitant about 48 him. He had so
consolidated his political support by this time that such ever
persons as opposed him wouldn't have dared to publicly declare
49 their opinions. Alkibiades led a number of
successful expeditions over the next year and the Athenians were
elated with his command. He had never failed in a military
undertaking and the men in his fleet came to regard themselves a higher class
of soldier. However, an occasion arose during naval actions near Notion
when Alkibiades had to leave the major part of his fleet under the
command of another captain while he sailed to a near¬ by island to levy
funds. He left instructions not to engage the enemy under any
circumstances, but during his absence a battle was fought none¬ theless.
Alkibiades hurriedly returned but arrived too late to salvage victory.
Many men and ships were lost to the Spartans. Such was his habit of
victory that the people of Athens suspected that he must have wanted to
lose. They once again revoked his citizenship. Alkibiades left
Athens for the last time in 406 B.C. and retired to a castle he had
built long before. Despite his complete loss of civic status with
the Athenians, his concern for them did not cease. In his last
attempt to assist Athens against the Spartan fleet under Lysander,
Alkibiades made a special journey at his own expense to advise the
new strategoi . He cautioned them that what remained of the
Athenian fleet was moored at a very inconvenient place, and that
the men should be held in tighter rein given the proximity of
Lysander's ships. They disregarded his advice with utter contempt
(only to regret it upon their almost 52 immediate
defeat) and Alkibiades returned to his private retreat. There he stayed
in quiet luxury until assassinated one night in 404 B.C. The participants
in the First Alkibiades , Socrates and Alkibiades, seem at first blush to
be thoroughly contrasting. To start with appear¬ ances, the physical
difference between the two men who meet this day could hardly be more
extreme. Alkibiades, famous throughout Greece for his beauty, is face to
face with Socrates who is notoriously ugly. They are each represented in
a dramatic work of the period. Aristophanes refers to Alkibiades as
a young lion; he is said to have described 54 Socrates
as a "stalking pelican." Alkibiades is so handsome that his
figure and face served as a model for sculptures of Olympian gods on
high temple friezes. Socrates is referred to as being very like the
popular representation of siloni and satyrs; the closest he attains
to Olympian heights is Aristophanes' depiction of him hanging in a
basket from the 55 rafters of an old house.
Pre-eminent among citizens for his wealth and his family, Alkibiades
is speaking with a man of non-descript lineage and widely advertised
poverty. Alkibiades, related to a family of great men, is the son of
Kleinias and Deinomakhe, both of royal lineage. Socrates, who is the son
of Sophroniskos the stone-mason and Phainarete the midwife, does not seem
to have such a spectacular ancestry. Even as a boy Alkibiades was famous
for his desire to win and his ambition for power. Despite being fearful
of it, people are familiar with political ambition and so believe they
understand it. To them, Alkibiades seemed the paragon of the political
man. But Socrates was more of a mystery to the typical Athenian. He
seemed to have no concern with im¬ proving his political or economic
status. Rather, he seemed preoccupied to the point of perversity with
something he called 'philosophy, 1 literally 'love of wisdom.' Alkibiades
sought political office as soon as he became of age. He felt certain that
in politics he could rise above all Athenians past and present. His
combined political and military success made it possible for him to be
the youngest general ever elected. Socrates, by contrast, said that he
was never moved to seek office; he served only when he was required (by
legal appointment). In his lifetime Socrates was considered to have been
insufficiently concerned with his fellows' opinions about him, whereas
from his childhood people found Alkibiades' attention to the demos
remarkable - in terms either of his quickness at following their cue, or
of his setting the trend. Both men were famous for their speaking
ability, but even in this they contrast dramatically. The effects of
their speech were different. Alkibiades could persuade peop le, and
so nations, to adopt his political proposals, even when he had been
regarded as an enemy. Socrates' effect was far less widespread. Indeed,
for most people acquainted with it, Socratic speech was suspect. People
were moved by Alkibiades' rhetoric despite their knowing that that was
his precise intention. It was Socrates, however, who was accused of
making the weaker argument defeat the stronger, though he explicitly
renounced such intentions. Alkibiades' long moving speeches persuaded
many large assemblies. Socrates' style of question and answer was not nearly
so popular, and convinced fewer men. Socrates is reputed to have
never been drunk, regardless of how much he had imbibed. This contrasts
with the (for the most part) notoriously indulgent life of Alkibiades. He
remains famous to this day for several of his drunken escapades, one of
which is depicted by Plato in a famous dialogue. Though both men were
courageous and competent in war, Socrates never went to battle
unless called upon, and distinguished himself only during general
retreats. Alkibiades was so eager for war and all its attendant glories
that he even argued in the ekklesia for an Athenian escalation of the
war. He was principally responsible for the initiation of the Sicilian
expedition and was famous for his bravery in wanting to go ever further
forward in battle. It was, instead, battles in speech for which Socrates
seemed eager; perhaps it is a less easily observed brand of courage which
is demanded for advance and retreat in such clashes. Both men could
accommodate their lifestyles to fit with the circum¬ stances in which
they found themselves, but as these were decidedly dif¬ ferent, so too
were their manners of adaptation. Socrates remained ex¬ clusively in
Athens except when accompanying his fellow Athenians on one or two
foreign wars. Alkibiades travelled from city to city, and seems to have
adjusted well. He got on so remarkably well at the Persian court that the
Persians thought he was one of them; and at Sparta they could not believe
the stories of his love of luxury. But, despite his outward con¬ formity
with all major Athenian conventions, Socrates was st ill con¬
sidered odd even in his home city. In a more speculative vein, one
might observe that neither Alkibiades nor Socrates are restricted because
of their common Athenian citizenship, but again in quite different
senses. Socrates, willing (and eager) to converse with, educate and
improve citizen and non-citizen alike, rose above the polis to dispense
with his need for it. Alkibiades, it seems, could not do without
political or public support (as Socrates seems to have), but he too did
not need Athens in particular. He could move to any polis and would be
recognized as an asset to any community. Socrates didn't receive such
recognition, but he did not need it. Still, Alkibiades, like
Socrates, retained an allegiance to Athens until his death and continued
to perform great deeds in her service. Despite their outwardly
conventional piety (e.g., regular observance of religious festivals),
Alkibiades and Socrates were both formally charged with impiety, but the
manner of their alleged violations was different. Alkibiades was
suspected of careless blasphemy and con¬ temptuous disrespect, of
profaning the highest of the city's religious Mysteries; Socrates was
charged with worshipping other deities than those allowed, but was
suspected of atheism. Though both men were convicted and sentenced to
death, Alkibiades refused to present himself for trial and so was
sentenced in absentia . Socrates, as we know, conducted his own defense,
and, however justly or unjustly, was legally convicted and condemned.
Alkibiades escaped when he had the chance and sought refuge in Sparta;
Socrates refused to take advantage of a fully arranged escape from his
cell in Athens. Alkibiades, a comparatively young man, lived to see his
sentence subsequently withdrawn. Socrates seems to have done his best not to
have his sentence reduced. His rela¬ tionship with Athens had been quite
constant. Old charges were easily brought to bear on new ones, for the
Athenians had come to entertain a relatively stable view of him.
Alkibiades suffered many reverses of status with the Athenians.
Surprised from his sleep, Alkibiades met his death fighting with
assassins, surrounded by his enemies. After preparing to drink the hem¬
lock, Socrates died peacefully, surrounded by his friends. It seems
likely that Plato expects these contrasts to be tacitly in the mind of
the reader of the First Alkibiades . They heighten in various ways the
excitement of this dialogue between two men whom every Athenian of their
day would have seen, and known at least by reputation. Within a generation
of the supposed time of the dialogue, moreover, each of the participants
would be regarded with utmost partiality. It is un¬ likely that even the
most politically apathetic citizen would be neutral or utterly
indifferent concerning either man. Not only would every Athenian (and
many foreigners) know each of them, most Athenians would have strong
feelings of either hatred or love for each man. The extra¬ ordinary
fascination of these men makes Plato's First Alkibiades all the more
inviting as a natural point at which to begin a study of political
philosophy. In the First Alkibiades , Socrates and Alkibiades,
regarded by posterity as respective paragons of the philosophic life and
the political life, are engaged in conversation together. As the dialogue
commences, Alkibiades in particular is uncertain as to their relationship
with each other. Especially interesting, however, is their implicit
agreement that these matters can be clarified through their speaking with
one another. The reader might first wonder why they even bother
with each other; and further wonder why, if they are properly to be
depicted together at all, it should be in conversation. They could be
shown in a variety of situations. People often settle their differences
by fighting, a challenge to a contest, or a public debate of some kind.
Alkibiades and Socrates converse in private. The man identified with
power and the man identified with knowledge have their showdown on the
plain of speech. The Platonic dialogue form, as will hopefully be
shown in the commentary, is well suited for expressing political
philosophy in that it allows precisely this confrontation. A Platonic
dialogue is different from a treatise in its inclusion of drama. It is
not a straightforward explication for it has particular characters who
are interacting in specific ways. It is words plus action, or speech plus
deed. In a larger sense, then, dialogue implicitly depicts the relation
between speech and deed or theory and practice, philosophy and politics,
and re¬ flecting on its form allows the reader to explore these matters.
In addition, wondering about the particulars of Socratic speech may
shed light upon how theory relates to practice. As one attempts to
discover why Socrates said what he did in the circumstances in which he
did, one becomes aware of the connections between speech and action, and
philosophy and politics. One is also awakened to the important position
of speech as intermediary between thought and action. Speech is unlike
action as has just been indicated. But speech is not like thought either.
It may, for instance, have immediate consequences in action and thus
demand more rigorous control. Philosophy might stand in relation to
thought as politics does to action; understanding 'political philosophy'
then would involve the complex connection between thought and speech, and
speech and action; in other words, the subject matter appropriate to
political philosophy embraces the human condition. The Platonic dialogue
seems to be in the middle ground by way of its form, and it is up to the
curious reader to determine what lies behind the speech, on both the side
of thought and action. Hopefully, in examining the First Alkibiades these
general observations will be made more concrete. A good reader will take
special care to observe the actions as well as the arguments of this
dialogue between the seeker of knowledge and the pursuer of power.
Traditionally, man's ability to reason has been considered the
essential ground for his elevated status in the animal kingdom. Through
reason, both knowledge and power are so combined as to virtually place
man on an altogether higher plane of existence. Man's reason allows him to
control beasts physically much stronger than he; moreover, herds outnumber man,
yet he rules them. Both knowledge and power have long attracted men
recognizably superior in natural gifts. Traditionally, the highest
choice a man could 57 confront was that between the
contemplative and the active life. In order to understand this as the
decision par excellence , one must compre¬ hend the interconnectivity
between knowledge and power as ends men seek. One must also try to
ascertain the essential features of the choice. For example, power
(conventionally understood) without knowledge accomplishes little even
for the mighty. As Thrasymakhos was reminded, without knowledge the
efforts of the strong would chance to work harm upon them¬ selves as
easily as not ( Republic). The very structure of the dialogue suggests
that the reader attentive to dramatic detail may learn more about the
relation between power and knowledge and their respective claims to rule.
Alkibiades and Socrates both present arguments, and the very dynamics of
the conversation (e.g., who rules in the dialogue, what means he uses whereby
to secure rule, the development of the relationship between the ruler and
the ruled) promise to provide material of interest to this issue.
B. Knowledge, Power and their Connection through Language As
this commentary hopes to show, the problem of the human use of language
pervades the Platonic dialogue known as the First Alkibiades. Its
ubiquity may indicate that one's ability to appreciate the signifi¬ cance
of speech provides an important measure of one's understanding of the
dialogue. Perhaps the point can be most effectively conveyed by simply
indicating a few of the many kinds of references to speech with which it
is replete. Socrates speaks directly to Alkibiades in complete privacy,
but he employs numerous conversational devices to construct circumstances
other than that in which they find themselves. For example, Alkibiades is
to pretend to answer to a god; Socrates feigns a dialogue with a Persian
queen; and at one point the two imagine themselves in a discussion with
each other in full view of the Athenian ekklesia . Socrates
stresses that he never spoke to Alkibiades before, but that he will now
speak at length. And Socrates emphasizes that he wants to be certain
Alkibiades will listen until he finishes saying what he must say. In the course
of speaking, Socrates employs both short dialogue and long monologue.
Various influences on one's speaking are mentioned, including mysterious
powers that prevent speech and certain matters that inherently demand to
be spoken about. The two men discuss the difference between asking and
answering, talking and listening. They refer to speech about music (among
other arts), speech about number, and speech about letters. They are
importantly concerned with public speaking, implicitly with rhetoric in all
its forms. They reflect upon what an advisor to a city can speak
persuasively about. They discuss the difference between per¬ suading one
and many. The two men refer to many differences germane to speaking, such
as private and public speech, and conspiratorial and dangerous speech.
Fables, poems and various other pictures in language are both directly
employed by Socrates and the subject of more general discussion. Much of
the argument centers on Alkibiades' understanding of what the words mean
and on the implicit presence of values embedded in the language. They
also spend much time discussing, in terms of rhetorical effect, the
tailoring of comments to situations; at one point Socrates indicates he
would not even name Alkibiades' condition if it weren't for the fact that
they are completely alone. They refer to levels of knowledge among the
audience and the importance of this factor in effectively persuading one
or many. And in a larger sense already alluded to, reflection on Plato's
use of the dialogue form itself may also reveal features of language and
aspects of its relation to action. Socrates seems intent upon
increasing Alkibiades' awareness of the many dimensions to the problem of
understanding the role of language in the life of man. Thus the reader of
the First Alkibiades is invited to share as well in this education about
the primary means of education: speech, that essential human
power. Perhaps it may be granted, on the basis of the above, that
the general issue of language is at least a persistent theme in the
dialogue. Once that is recognized it becomes much more obvious that
speech is connected both to power, or the realm of action, and knowledge,
the realm of thought. Speech and power, in the politically relevant
sense, are thoroughly interwoven. The topics of freedom of speech and
censorship are of paramount concern to all regimes, at times forming part
of the very foundation of the polity. This is the most obvious
connection: who is to have the right to speak about what, and who in turn
is to have the power to decide this matter. Another aspect of speech
which is crucial politically seems to be often overlooked and that is the
expression of power in commands, instruction and explanation. The more subtle
side of this political use of speech is that of education. Maybe not all
political men do understand education to be of primary importance, but
that clearly surfaces as one of the things which Alkibiades learns in
this dialogue. At the very least, the politically ambitious man
seeks control over the education of others in order to secure his rule
and make his political achievements lasting. With respect to education,
the skilled user of language has more power than someone who must depend solely
on actions in this regard. Circumstances which are actually unique may
be endlessly reproduced and reconsidered. By using speech to teach,
the speaker gains a power over the listener that might not be available
had he need to rely upon actions. Not only can he tell of things that
cannot be seen (feelings, thoughts and the like), but he can invent
stories about what does not even exist. Myths and fables are
generally recognized to have pedagogic value, and in most societies form
an essential part of the core set of beliefs that hold the people
together. Homer, Shakespeare and the Bible are probably the most
universally recognized examples influencing western society. To mold and
shape the opinions of men through fables, lies and carefully chosen
truths is, in effect, to control them. Such use of language can be
considered a weapon also, propaganda providing a most obvious example.
Hobbes, for instance, recognizes these qualities of speech and labels
them 'abuses.' Most of the abuse appears to be consti¬ tuted by the
deception or injury caused another; Hobbes all the while 58
demonstrates himself to be master of the insult. Summing up these
observations, one notices that speech plays a crucial part in the realm
of power, especially in terms of education, a paramount political
activity. The connection of speech to knowledge, the realm of
thought is much less in need of comment. The above discussion of
education points to the underlying concern about knowledge. Various
subtleties in language (two of which - metaphor and irony - will be
presently introduced), however, make it more than the instrument through
which knowledge is gained, but actually may serve to increase a person's
interest in attaining knowledge; that is, they make the end, knowledge, more
attractive. A most interesting understanding of speech emerges when
one abstracts somewhat from actual power and actual knowledge to look at
the relationship between the realms of action and thought. Action
and thought, epitomized by politics and philosophy, both require speech
if they are to interact. Politics in a sense affects thought, and
thought should guide action. Both of these exchanges are normally
effected through speech and may be said to describe the bounds of the
subject area of political philosophy. Political philosophy deals with
what men do and think (thus concerning itself with metaphysics, say, to
the extent to which metaphysical considerations affect man). Political
philosophy may be understood as philosophy about politics, or philosophy
that is politic. In this latter sense, speech via the expression of
philosophy in a politic manner, suggests itself to be an essential aspect
to the connection be¬ tween these two human realms - thought and action.
The reader of the First Alkibiades should be alert to the ways in which
language pertains to the relationship between Socrates and Alkibiades.
For example, their concern for each other and promise to continue
conversing might shed some light on the general requirements and
considerations power and knowledge share. As has already been indicated,
considerable attention is paid to various characteristics of speech in
the discussion between the two men. Rhetoricians, politicians,
philosophers and poets, to mention but a few of those whose activity
proceeds primarily through speech, are aware of the powers of language
and make more or less subtle use of various modes of speech. The First
Alkibiades teaches about language and effectively employs many linguistic
devices. Called for at the outset is some introductory mention of a few
aspects of language, in order that their use in the dialogue may be more
readily reflected upon. Metaphor, a most important example, is a complex
and exciting feature of language. A fresh and vivid metaphor is a most
effective influence on the future perceptions of those listening. It will
often form a lasting impression. Surely a majority of readers are
familiar with the experience of being unable to disregard an interpretation
of something illuminated by an especially bright metaphor. Many
people have probably learned to appreciate the surging power of language
by having themselves become helplessly swamped in a sea of
metaphor. There are two aspects to the power of attracting attention through
language that a master of metaphor, especially, can summon. Both indicate
a rational component to language, but both include many more features of
reason than mere logical deduction. The first is the power that arises
when someone can spark connections between apparently unrelated parts of
the world. This is an interesting and exciting feature of man's rational
capability, deriving its charm partly from the natural delight people
apparently take in having connections drawn between seemingly distinct
objects. The other way in which he can enthrall an audience is
through harvesting some of the vast potential for metaphors that exist in
the natural fertility of any language. There are metaphors in
everyday speech that remain unrecognized (are forgotten) for so long that
dis¬ belief is experienced when their metaphoric nature is revealed.
Men's opinions about much of the world is influenced by metaphor. A most
important set of examples involve the manner in which the invisible is
spoken of almost exclusively through metaphoric language based on the
visible. This curious feature of man's rationality is frequently ex¬
plored by Plato. The most famous example is probably Socrates's description of
education as an ascent out of a cave ( Republic), but another perhaps no
less important example occurs in the First Alkibiades . Not only is the
invisible metaphorically explained via some¬ thing visible, but the
metaphor is that of the organ of sight itself (cf. 132c-133c, where the
soul and the eye are discussed as analogues)! The general
attractiveness of metaphor also demonstrates that man is essentially a
creature with speech. That both man and language must be understood in
order for a philosophic explanation to be given of either, is indicated
whenever one tries to account for the natural delight almost all people
take in being shown new secrets of meaning, in discovering the richness
of their own tongue, and in the reworking of images - from puns and
complex word games to simple metaphors and idiomatic expressions. Man's
rationality is bound up with language, and rationality may not be
exclusively or even primarily logic; it is importantly metaphor. Subtle use is
often made of the captivating power of various forms of expression. One
of the most alluring yet bedevilling of these is irony. Irony never
unambiguously reveals itself but suggests mystery and disguise. This
enhances its own attractiveness and simultaneously increases the charm of
the subject on which irony is played; there seems little doubt that
Socrates and Plato were able to make effective use of this feature for
they are traditionally regarded as the past masters of it. Eluding
definition, irony seems not amenable to a simple classifi- catory scheme.
It can happen in actions as well as speeches, in drama as well as actual
life. It can occur in an infinite variety of situations. One cannot be told how
exactly to look for irony; it cannot be reduced to rules. But to discover its
presence on one's own is thoroughly- exciting (though perhaps biting).
The possibility of double ironies increases the anxiety attending ironic speech
as well as its attractive¬ ness. The merest suggestion of irony can upset
an otherwise tranquil moment of understanding. Probably all listeners of
ironic speech or witnesses of dramatic irony have experienced the
apprehensiveness that follows such an overturned expectation of
simplicity. It appears to be in the nature of irony that knowledge
of its presence in no way diminishes its seductiveness but rather
enhances its effectiveness. Once it is discovered, it has taken hold.
This charming feature of Socrates' powerful speech, his irony, is
acknowledged by Alkibiades even as he recognizes himself to be its principal
target (Symposium 215a-216e). The abundance of irony in the First Alkibiades
makes it difficult for any passage to be interpreted with certitude. It
is likely that the following commentary would be significantly altered
upon the recognition of a yet subtler, more ironic, teaching in the
dialogue. It is thus up to each individual, in the long run, to make a
judgement upon the dialogue, or the interpretation of the dialogue; he
must be wary of and come to recognize the irony on his own. The
Superior Man is a Problem for Political Philosophy One mark of a
great man is the power of making lasting impressions upon people he
meets. Another is so to have handled matters during his life that
the course of after events is continuously affected by what he did.
Winston Churchill Great Contemporaries It may be
provisionally suggested that both Socrates and Alkibiades are superior
men, attracted respectively to knowledge and power. Certainly a surface
reading of the First Alkibiades would support such a judgement. One could
probably learn much about the character of the political man and the
philosophic man by simply observing Socrates and Alkibiades. It stands to
reason that a wisely crafted dialogue repre¬ senting a discussion between
them would reveal to the careful, reflective reader deeper insight into
knowledge, power and the lives of those dedicated to each.
Socrates confesses that he is drawn to Alkibiades because of the
youth's unquenchable ambition for power. Socrates tells Alkibiades
that 59 the way to realizing his great aspirations is
through the philosopher. Accordingly Socrates proceeds to teach
Alkibiades that the acquisition of knowledge is necessary in order that
his will to power be fulfilled. By the end of the dialogue, Socrates'
words have managed to secure the desired response from the man to whom he
is attracted: Alkibiades in a sense redirects his eros toward Socrates.
This sketch, though superficial, bespeaks the dialogue's promise to unravel
some of the mysterious connections between knowledge and power as these
phenomena are made incarnate in its two exceptional participants.
The significance of the superior man to political philosophy has,
for the most part, been overlooked in the last century or so, the
exceptions being rather notorious given their supposed relation to the
largest political event of the Twentieth Century.^ in contemporary
analysis, the importance of great men, even in the military, has tended
to be explained away rather than understood. This trend may be partly
explained by the egalitarian views of the dominant academic observers of
political things. As the problem was traditionally understood, the
superior man tends to find himself in an uneasy relationship with the
city. The drive, the erotic ambition distinguishes the superior man from
most others, and in that ambition is constituted their real threat to the
polity as well as their real value. No man who observed a war could
persist in the belief that all citizens have a more or less equal effect
on the outcome, on history. A certain kind of superiority becomes readily
apparent in battle and the bestowal of public honors acknowledges its
political value. Men of such manly virtue are of utmost necessity to all
polities, at least in times of extremes. Moreover, political philosophers
have heretofore recognized that there are other kinds of battlefields
upon which superior men exercise their evident excellence. It
is, however, during times of peace that the community ex¬ periences fear
about containing the lions,^ recognizing that they constitute an internal
threat to the regime. Thus, during times of peace a crucial test of the
polity is made. A polity's ability to find a fitting place for its noble
men speaks for the nobility of the polity. In many communities, the
best youths turn to narrow specialization in particularized scientific
disciplines, or to legal and academic sophistry, to achieve distinction.
It is not clear whether this is due to the regime's practicing a form of
politics that attracts but then debases or corrupts the better sort of
youth, or because the best men find its politics repugnant and so
redirect their ambitions toward these other pursuits. In any event, the
situation in such communities is a far cry from that of the city which
knows how to rear the lion cubs. Not surprisingly, democracy has always
had difficulty with the superior men. Ironically, today the recognition
of the best men in society arises most frequently among those far from
power or the desire to enter politics. Those who hold office in modern
democracies are not able to uphold the radically egalitarian premises of
the regime and still consistently acknowledge the superiority of some
men. This has reper¬ cussions at the base of the polity: the democratic
election. Those bent on holding public office are involved in a dilemma,
a man's claim to office is that he possesses some sort of expertise, yet
he cannot main¬ tain a platform of simple superiority in an egalitarian
regime. Many aspirants are required to seek election on the basis of some
feature of their character (such as their expenditure of effort) instead
of their skills, and such criteria are often in an ambiguous relation to
the duties of office. The problem is yet more far-reaching.
Those regimes committed to the enforced equalization of the unequal
incongruously point with pride to the exceptional individuals in the
history of their polities. A standard justification for communist
regimes, for example, is to refer to the distinguished figures in the
arts and sports of their nation. Implicitly the traditional view has been
retained: great men are one of the measures of a great polity.
A less immediate but more profound problem for political philosophy
is posed by the very concept of the best man. Three aspects of this
problem shall be raised, the last two being more fully discussed as they
arise in commenting upon the First Alkibiades . All who have given
the matter some thought will presumably agree that education is, in part
at least, a political concern, and that the proper nurture of youth is a
problem for political philosophy. According¬ ly, an appropriate beginning
is the consideration of the ends of nurture. The question of toward what
goal the nurture of youth is to aim is a question bound up with the views
of what the best men are like. This is inevitably the perspective from
which concerned parents adopt their own education policies. Since the
young are nurtured in one manner or another regardless, all care given to
the choice of nurtures is justified It must be remembered that
children will adopt models of behavior regardless of whether their
parents have guided their choice. As the tradition reminds is, the hero
is a prominent, universal feature in the nurture of children. Precisely
for that reason great care ought to be taken in the formation and
presentation (or representation) of heroic men and deeds. The heroes of
history, of literature and of theater presumably have no slight impact on
the character of youth. For instance canons of honesty are suggested by
the historical account of young Lincoln, codes of valor have been
established by Akhilleus, and young men's opinions about both
partnerships and self-reliance are being in¬ fluenced by the Western
Cowboy. The religious reverence with which many young observe the
every word and deed of their idols establishes "the hero" as a
problem of considerable significance. One could argue that the hero should
be long dead. His less than noble human characteristics can be excised
from the public memory and his deeds suitably embellished (cf. Republic
391d.6). Being dead, the possibility of his becoming decadent or
otherwise evil is eliminated. Although attractive, this suggestion
presents a rather large problem, especially in a society in which there
is any timocratic element. The honors bestowed on living men may be
precisely what trans¬ forms them into the "flesh and blood"
heroes of the young. Should honors not be delivered until after a man's
death, however (when he cannot turn to drink, women or gambling), it may
dampen many timocrats' aspirations. If the superior man is not recognized
during his lifetime, he must at least obtain some assurance of a lasting
honor after his death. This might be difficult to do, if he is aware of
how quickly and completely the opinions of those bestowing honor, the
demos , shift. Since this turned out to assume great importance
historically for Alkibiades, the reader of the First Alkibiades might be
advised to pay attention to what Socrates teaches the young man about
power and glory. The role of heroes extends beyond their pedagogic function
of supplying models to guide the ambitions of youth. Heroes contribute
to the pride of a family, help secure the glory of a nation and provide
a tie to the ancestral. Recognition of this should suffice to
indicate that the problem of superior men is a significant one for
political philosophy. Presumably any political theory
requires some account of the nature of man. It may already be clear at
this point that a compre¬ hensive philosophic account of man's nature
must include a consideration of the superior man. Traditionally, in fact,
the concept of the best man has been deemed central to an adequate
understanding. Many people who would readily grant the importance of the
problem of understanding human nature consider it to be a sort of
statistical norm. That position does not concede the necessity of looking
toward the best man. For the immediate purpose of analyzing this
dialogue, it seems sufficient that the question be reopened, which may be
accomplished simply by indicating that there are problems with seeing
nature as "the normal." Without any understanding of the
best man (even one who is not actualized), comparison between men would
be largely meaningless and virtually any observation of, or statement
about persons would be ambiguous since they involve terms which imply
comparing men on some standard. There would be no consistent way to
evaluate any deviation whatsoever from the normal. For example, sometimes
it is better to be fierce, sometimes it is not. If one describes a man as
being more capable of fierceness than most men one would not know how to
evaluate him relative to those men, without more information. It is
necessary to have an understanding of the importance of those matters in
which it is better to be fierce, to the best man. If it is important for
the best man to be capable of being very fierce, then, and only then,
it seems, could one judge a man who is able to be fierce at times to be
a better man with respect to that characteristic. Any meaningful
description of him, then depends on the view of the best man. This is
implicit in the common sense understanding anyway. The statement "X
is more capable of fierceness than most men,' prompts an implicit
qualitative judgement in most men's minds on the basis of their views of
the best man. The statement "X has darker hair than most men,"
does not, precisely because most understandings of the best man do not
specify hair color. A concept of the best is necessary if a man is to be
able to evaluate his position vis a vis others and discern with what he
must take pains with himself. The superior man understands this. Aiming
to actualize his potential to the fullest in the direction of his
ideal, he obviously does not compete with the norm. He strives with the
best of men or even with the gods. Whenever he sees two alternatives,
he immediately wonders which is best. The superior youth comes to
learn that a central question of his life is the question of with whom is
his contest. Having raised this second aspect of the
philosophic concern about the best man, one is led quite naturally to a
related problem he poses for political philosophy with respect to what
has been a perennial concern of the tradition, indeed perhaps its guiding
question, namely: "What is the best regime?" The
consideration of the best regime may be in light of a concern for the
"whole" in some sense, or for the citizen or for the
"whole" in some sense, or from some other standpoint. Apart
from the problem of how to understand "the whole," a large
philosophic question remains regarding whether the best for a city is compatible
with the best for a man. The notion of the superior man provides a guide
of some sort (as the 'norm' does not) to the answer regarding what is
best for a man; the view of the best regime suggests (as the 'norm' does
not) what is good for a city. But what must one do if the two
conflict? As has become apparent, the complex question of the priority of
the individual or the social order is raised by the very presence of the
superior man in a city. The dialogue at various points tacitly prompts
the reader to consider some of the intricacies of this issue.
Upon considering what is best for man generally, for a man in
particular, and for a city, one notices that most people have opinions
about these things, and not all of them act upon these opinions. One
eventually confronts a prior distinction, the difference between doing
what one thinks is good, knowing what is good, and doing what one knows
is good. While it is not entirely accurate to designate them respectively
as power, knowledge, and knowledge with power, these terms suggest how
the problems mentioned above are carried through the dialogue in terms of
the concern for the superior man. Provisionally, one may suggest
that Alkibiades provides a classic example of the superior man. In a sense
not obvious to the average Athenian, so too is Socrates. They both
pose distinct political problems, and they present interesting
philosophic puzzles as well. But there is another reason, no less
compelling for being less apparent, that recommends the study of
the First Alkibiades . Since antiquity the First Alkibiades has
been subtitled, "On the Nature of Man." At first blush this
subtitle 63 is not as fitting as the subtitles of some
other aporetic dialogues. The question "What is the nature of
Man?" is neither explicitly asked nor directly addressed by
either Socrates or Alkibiades, yet the reader is driven to consider
it. One might immediately wonder why " Alkibiades " is
the title of a dialogue on the nature of man, and why Socrates chooses
to 64 talk about man as such with Alkibiades. Perhaps
Alkibiades is par¬ ticularly representative, or especially revealing
about man. Perhaps he is unique or perhaps he is inordinately in need of
such a discourse. One must also try to understand Socrates' purpose,
comprehend the significance of any of Alkibiades' limitations, and come
to an understanding of what the character of his eros is (e.g., is it
directed toward power, glory, or is it just a great eros that is yet to
be directed). In the course of grappling with such matters, one also
confronts one's own advantages and liabilities for the crucial and
demanding role of dialogic partner. Perhaps the very things a
reader fastens his attentions upon are indicative of something essential
about his own particular nature. If the reader is to come to a decision
as to whether the subtitle affixed in antiquity to the dialogue is indeed
appropriate, these matters must be judged in the course of considering
the general question of whether the dialogue is indeed about "the
nature of man." The mystery and challenge of a dialogue may serve to
enhance its attractiveness. One of the most intriguing philosophic
problems of the First Alkibiades may well be the question of whether it
is in fact about man's nature. With a slight twist, the reader is faced
with another example of Socrates' revision of Meno's paradox ( Meno 80e).
Sometimes when a reader finds what he is looking for, discovering
something he was hoping to discover, it is only because his narrowness of
attention or interest prevented him from seeing conflicting material, and
because he expended his efforts on making what he saw conform to his
wishes. The good reader of a dialogue will, as a rule, take great care to
avoid such myopia. In order to find out whether the dialogue is primarily
about the nature of man (and if so, what is teaches about the nature of
man), the prudent reader will caution himself against begging the
question, so to speak. If one sets out ignorant of what the nature of man
is, one may have trouble recognizing it when one finds it. Conversely, to
complete the paradox, to ask how and where to find it (in other words,
inquiring as to how one will recognize it), implies that one ought
already know what to expect from knowledge of it. This could be
problematic, for the inquiry may be severely affected by a preconceived
opinion about which question will be answered by it. "Philosophical
prejudices" should have no part in the search for the nature of
man. This is a difficulty not faced to the same extent by other
aporetic dialogues which contain a question of the form "What
is _?" Once this first question is articulated, the normal way
of pursuing the answer is open to the reader. He may proceed naturally
from conventional opinion, say, and constantly refine his views according
to what he notices. It ap¬ pears, however, that the reader of the First
Alkibiades cannot be certain that it will address the nature of
man, and the dialogue doesn't seem to directly commence with a
consideration of conventional opinions. Most readers of the dialogue know
what a man is insofar as they could point to one (111b,ff.), but very few
know what man is. Perhaps as the dialogue unfolds the careful reader will
be educated to a point beyond being ignorant of how to look for something
that he mightn't recognize even when he found it. By this puzzle the
reader is drawn more deeply into the adventure of touching on the
mysteries of his own nature. To borrow a metaphor from a man who likely
knew more about Socrates and Alkibiades than has anyone else before or
since, the same spirit of adventure permeates the quest for knowledge of
man as characterizes sailing through perilous unknown waters on a tiny,
frail craft, attempting to avoid perishing on the rocks. One can only
begin with what one knows, such as some rudimentary views about
navigation technique and more or less correct opinions about one's home
port. Upon coming to appreciate the difficulties of knowing, fully and
honestly, one's own nature, one realizes how treacherous is the journey.
In all likelihood one will either be swamped, or continue to sail
forever, or cling to a rock under the illusion of having reached the far
shore. This thesis is an introduction to the First Alkibiades .
Through their discussion, and more importantly through his own
participation in their discussion, Socrates and Alkibiades reveal to the
reader something about the nature of man. Both the question of man's
nature and the problem of the superior man have been neglected in recent
political theory; especially the connection between them has been
overlooked. To state the thesis of this essay with only slight
exaggeration: an under¬ standing of politics - great and small - is
impossible without knowledge of man, and knowledge of man is impossible
without knowledge of the best of men. This thesis, investigating the
dialogue entitled the First Alkibiades , focusses on certain things the
dialogue seems to be about, without pretending to be comprehensive. It is
like the dialogue in one respect at least: it is written in the interest
of opening the door to further inquiry, and not with subsequently closing
that door. Through a hopefully careful, critical reading of the First
Alkibiades , I attempt to show that the nature of man and the superior
man are centrally tied both to each other and to any true understanding
of (great) political things. The spirit of the critique is inspired by
the definition of a "good critic" ascribed to Anatole France:
"A good critic is one who tells the story of his mind's adventures
among the masterpieces." The First Alkibiades begins abruptly with the
words "Son of Kleinias, I suppose you are wondering..." The
reader does not know where the dialogue is taking place; nor is he
informed as to how Socrates and Alkibiades happened to meet on this
occasion. Interlocutors in other direct dramatic dialogues may sooner or
later reveal this information in their speeches. In narrated dialogues, Socrates
or another participant may disclose the circumstances of the discussion.
In the case of this dialogue, however, no one does. The reader
remains uncertain that it is even taking place in Athens proper and not
in the countryside about the city. It may be reasonable to suggest that
in this case the setting of the dialogue does not matter, or more
precisely, the fact that there is no particular setting is rather what
matters. The discussion is not dependent on a specific set of
circumstances and the dialogue becomes universally applicable. The
analysis will hopefully show the permanence of the problems thematically
dealt with in the dialogue. Philosophically it is a discussion in no way
bound by time or place. Further support is lent to this suggestion by the
fact that there is no third person telling the story and Socrates is not
reporting it to anyone. Nobody else is present. Plato
presents to the reader a dramatic exchange which is emphatically private.
Neither Socrates nor Alkibiades have divulged the events of this first
dialogic encounter between the man and the youth. The thorough
privacy of the discussion as well as the silence concerning the setting help to
impute to the reader an appreciation of the autonomous nature of the
discourse. There is a sense in which this dialogue could happen whenever
two such people meet. Consequently, the proposition implicitly put forth
to the reader is that he be alive to the larger significance of the
issues treated; the very circumstances of the dialogue, as mentioned
here, sufficiently support such a suggestion so as to place the onus for
the argument in the camp of those who want to restrict the relevance of
the dialogue to Socrates and Alkibiades in 5th century Athens.
That the two are alone is a feature that might be important to much
of the reader's interpretation, for attention is drawn to the fact by the
speakers themselves. Such privacy may have considerable philosophic
significance, as it has a clear effect on the suitability of some of the
material being discussed (e.g., 118b.5). There is no need for concern
about the effect of the discussion upon the community as there might be
were it spoken at the ekklesia ; the well-being of other individuals need
not dissuade them from examining radical challenges to conventional
views, as might be the case were they conversing in front of children or
at the marketplace; and there is no threat to either partici¬ pant, as
there might be were they to insult or publicly challenge some¬ one's
authority. Conventional piety and civic-mindedness need place no
limitations on the depth of the inquiry; the only limits are those im¬
plicit in the willingness and capability of the participants. For
example, an expectation of pious respect for his guardian, Perikles,
could well interfere with Alkibiades' serious consideration of good
statesmanship. The fact that they are unaccompanied, that Perikles is
spoken of as still living, and that Socrates first mentions Perikles in a
respectful manner (as per 118c, 104b-c), permits a serious (if finally
not very flattering) examination of his qualifications. Socrates and
Alkibiades are alone and are not bound by any of the restrictions
normally faced in discussions with an audience. The reader's participa¬
tion, then, should be influenced by this spirit of privacy, at least in
so far as he is able to grasp the political significance of the special
"silence" of private conversation. Somewhere in or about
their usual haunts, Socrates and Alkibiades chanced to meet. If their own
pronouncements can be taken literally, they were in the process of
seeking each other. Alkibiades had been about to address Socrates but
Socrates began first (104c-d). Since his daimon or god had only just
ceased preventing him from talking to Alkibiades (105d), Socrates was
probably waiting at Alkibiades' door (106e.10). Although the
location is unknown, the reader may glean from various of their comments
a vague idea of the time of the dialogue. In this case, it appears, the
actual dramatic date of the dialogue is of less importance than some
awareness of the substance of the evidence enabling one to deduce it.
Alkibiades is not yet twenty (123d) but he must be close to that age for
he intends shortly to make his first appearance before the Athenian
ekklesia (106c). Until today Socrates had been observing and following
the youth in silence; they had not spoken to each other. This
corroborates the suggestion that the action of the dialogue takes place
before the engagement at Potidaia (thus before the outbreak of the
Peloponnesian War, i.e. before 432 B.C.) for they knew each other by that
time ( Symposium, 219e). Perikles and his sons are referred to as though
they were living, offering further confirmation that the dramatic date is
sometime before or about the onset of the war with Sparta. The action of
the dialogue must take place be¬ fore that of the Protagoras ,^ since
Socrates has by then a reputation of sorts among the young men, whereas
Alkibiades seems not to have heard very much of Socrates at the beginning
of the First Alkibiades . Socrates addresses Alkibiades as the son
of Kleinias. This per¬ haps serves as a reminder to the young man who
believes himself so self- sufficient as to be in need of no one (104a).
In the first place, his uniqueness is challenged by this address. His
brother (mention of whom occurs later in the dialogue - 118e.4) would
also properly turn around in response to Socrates' words. More
importantly, however, it indicates that he too descended from a family.
His ancestry is traced to Zeus (121a), his connections via his kin are
alleged to be central to his self-esteem (104b), and even his mother,
Deinomakhe, assumes a role in the discussion (123c) . He is attached to a
long tradition. Through observation of Alkibiades' case in
particular, the fact that a man's nature is tied to descent is made
manifest. Alkibiades lost his father, Kleinias, when he was but a child
(112c) . He was made a ward of Perikles and from him received his
nurture. For most readers, drawing attention to parentage would not
distinguish nature from nurture. One is a child of one's parents both in
terms of that with which one is born, one's biological/genetic
inheritance, and of that which one learns. In the case of Alkibiades,
however, to draw attention to his father is to draw attention to his
heredity, whereas it was Perikles who raised him. The philosophic
distinction between nature and nurture is emphasized by the apparent
choice of addresses open to Socrates. Alkibiades is both the son of
Kleinias and the ward of Perikles. It seems fitting that a dialogue on
human nature begin by drawing attention to two dominating features of all
men's characters, their nature and their nurture. Socrates believes
that Alkibiades is wondering. He is curious about the heretofore hidden
motives for Socrates' behavior. As a facet of a rational nature, wonder
or curiosity separates men from the beasts. Wondering about the world is
characteristic of children long before they fully attain reason, though
it seems to be an indication of reason; most adults retain at least some
spark of curiosity about something. The reader is reminded that the
potential for wonder/reason is what is common to men but not possessed by
beasts, and it serves to distinguish those whom we call human.
Reason in general, and wonder in particular, pose a rather complex
problem for giving an account of the nature of man. Though enabling one
to distinguish men from beasts, it also allows for distinctions between
men. Some are more curious than others and some are far more rational
than others. The philosopher, for example, appears to be dominated by his
rational curiosity about the true nature of things. Some people wonder
only to the extent of having a vague curiosity about their future. It
appears that the criteria that allow one to hierarchically differ¬
entiate man from beast also provide for the rank-ordering of men. Some
people would be "more human" than others, following this line
of analysis. This eatablishes itself as an issue in understanding
what, essentially, man is, and it may somehow be related to the
general problem of the superior man, since his very existence invites
comparison by a qualitative hierarchy. He might be the man who portrays
the human characteristics in the ideal/proper quantities and proportions.
He may thus aid our understanding of the standard for humans.
Another opportunity to examine this issue will arise upon reaching the
part of the dialogue wherein Socrates points out that Alkibiades can come
to know himself after he understands the standard for superior men, after
he understands with whom he is to compete (119c,ff.). There
are at least two other problems with respect to the analysis of human
curiosity. The first is that it seems to matter what people are curious
about. Naturally children have a general wonder about things, but at a
certain stage of development, reason reveals some questions are more
important than and prior to others. It seems clear that wondering about
the nature of the world (i.e., what it really is), its arche (basic
principles), and man's proper place in it, or the kind of wondering
traditionally associated with the philosophic enterprise, is of a higher order
than curiosity about beetles, ancient architecture, details of history,
or nuances of linguistic meaning. This further complicates the problems
of rank-ordering men. The second problem met with in giving an
account of wonder and its appropriate place in life is that next to
philosophers and children, few lives are more dominated by a curiosity of
sorts than that of the "gossiping housewife." She is curious
about the affairs of her neighbors and her neighbor's children. The
passion for satisfying that curiosity is often so strong as to literally
dominate her days. It seems im¬ possible to understand such strong
curiosity as "merely idle," but one would clearly like to
account for it as essentially different from the curiosity of the
philosopher. That the reader may not simply disregard consideration of
gossiping women, or consider it at best tangential, is borne out by the
treatment of curiosity in the First Alkibiades. It is indicated in
the dialogue that daughters, wives and mothers must figure into an account
of wonder. There are seven uses of 'wonder' 6 V (
thaumadzein ). The first three involve Socrates and Alkibiades attest¬
ing to Alkibiades' wonder, including a rare pronouncement by Socrates of
his having certain knowledge: he knows well that Alkibiades is wondering
(104c.4; 103a.1, 104d.4). The last three are all about women wondering. Keeping
in mind the centrality of wondering to the nature of the philosopher (it
seems to be a chief thing in his nature), one sees that careful attention
must be given to curiosity. We have other reasons to suspect that
femininity is in some way connected to philosophy, and perhaps a careful
consideration of the treatment of women in the dialogue would shed light
on the problem. There is a sense in which wonder is a most
necessary prerequisite to seeking wisdom (cf. also Theaitetos 155d). To
borrow the conclusion of Socrates' argument with Alkibiades concerning
his coming to know justice (106d-e; 109e), one has to be aware of a lack
of something in order to seek it. A strong sense of wonder, or an
insatiable curiosity drives one to seek knowledge. This type of intense
wondering may con¬ ceivably be a major link in the connection between the
reason and the spirit of the psyche (cf. Republic 439e-440a). In the
Republic these two elements are said to be naturally allied, but the
reader is never explicitly told how they are linked, or what generally
drives or draws the spirit toward reason. An overpowering sense of wonder
seems the most immediate link. Perhaps another link is supplied when the
import¬ ance of the connection of knowledge to power is recognized; a
connection between the two parts of the psyche might be supplied by a
great will to power, for power presumably requires knowledge to be
useful. However, final judgement as to how the sense of wonder and the
desire for power differ in this regard, and which, if any, properly
characterizes the connections between the parts of Alkibiades' psyche
must await the reader's reflection on the dialogue as a whole. Likewise,
his evaluation as to which class of men contains Alkibiades will be
properly made after he has finished the dialogue. Socrates
believes that Alkibiades is wondering. Precisely that feature of
Alkibiades' nature is the one with which Socrates chooses to begin the
discussion and therewith their relationship. One may thus explore the
possibility that wondering is what distinguishes Alkibiades, or
essentially characterizes him. The discussion to this point would admit
of a number of possibilities. Curiosity could set Alkibiades apart
from other political figures, or it may place him above men
generally, indicating that he is one of the best or at least potentially
one of the best men - should reason/curiosity prove to be characteristic
of the best. Alkibiades' ostensible wondering could bespeak the high
spirit which characterized his entire life; perhaps one of the reasons he
would choose to die rather than remain at his present state (105a-b) is
that he is curious to see how far he can go, how much he can rule.
Socrates remarks that he is Alkibiades' lover; he is the first of
Alkibiades' lovers. Socrates suggests two features of his manner which,
taken together, would be likely to have roused the wonder of Alkibiades.
Socrates, the first lover, is the only one who remains; all the other
lovers have forsaken Alkibiades. Secondly, Socrates never said a word to
Alkibiades during his entire youth, even though other lovers pushed
through hoardes of people to speak with Alkibiades. A youth continuously
surrounded by a crowd of admirers would probably wish to know the motives
of a most constant, silent observer - if he noticed him. Socrates has at
last, after many years, spoken up. Assuring Alkibiades that no
human cause kept him from speaking, Socrates intimates that a daimonic
power had somehow opposed his uttering a single word. The precise nature
of the power is not divulged. Obviously not a physical restraint
such as a gag, it can nevertheless affect Socrates' actions. Socrates,
one is led to believe, is a most rational man. If it was not a human
cause that kept him from speaking, then Socrates' reason did not cause
him to keep silent. It was not reason that opposed his speech. Whatever
the daimonic power was, it was of such a force that it could match the
philosopher's reason. An under¬ standing of how Socrates' psyche would be
under the power of this daimonic sign would be of great interest to a
student of man. In at least Socrates' case, this power is comparable in
force to the power of reason. Socrates tells Alkibiades that the power of
the daimon in opposing his speaking was the cause of his silence for so
many years. The reader does not forget, however, that the lengthy
silence was not only Socrates'. Something else, perhaps less divine, kept
Alkibiades silent. It is noteworthy that the first power
Socrates chooses to speak of with Alkibiades is a non-human one, and one
which takes its effect by restraining speech. Alkibiades is interested in
having control over the human world; the kind of power he covets involves
military action and political management. Young men seem not altogether
appreciative of speech. Even when they acknowledge the power made available
by a positive kind of rhetorical skill, they do not appear especially
con¬ cerned with any negative or restraining power that limits speech
such as the power of this daimon. Not only is talk cheap, but it is for
women and old men, in other words, for those who aren't capable of
actually doing anything. The first mention of power ( dynamis) in the
dialogue cannot appear to Alkibiades to pertain to his interest in ruling
the human world, but it does offer the reader both an opportunity for re¬
flection on power in general, and a promise to deal with the connection
between power and speech in some fashion. What the dialogue teaches about
language and power will be more deeply plumbed when Alkibiades learns the
extent of the force of his words with Socrates (112e, ff.).
According to Socrates, Alkibiades will be informed of the power of
this daimonic sign at some later time. Since apparently the time is not
right now, either Socrates is confident that he and Alkibiades will continue
to associate, or he intends to tell Alkibiades later during the course of
this very dialogue. Socrates, having complied with his daimon, comes to
Alkibiades at the time when the opposition ceases. He appears to be well
enough acquainted with the daimon to entertain good hopes that it will
not oppose him again. By simple observation over the years,
Socrates has received a general notion of Alkibiades' behavior toward his
lovers. There were many and they were high-minded, but they fled from
Alkibiades' surpassing self-confidence. Socrates remarks that he wishes
to have the reasons for this self-confidence come to the fore. By
bringing Alkibiades' reasons to speech, Socrates implies, among other
things, that this sense of superiority does not have a self-evident basis
of support. He also sug¬ gests that there is a special need to have
reasons presented. Perhaps Alkibiades' understanding of his own feelings
either is wrong or in¬ sufficient; at any rate, they have previously been
left unstated. If they are finally revealed, Alkibiades will be compelled
to assess them. Socrates proceeds to list the things upon which Alkibiades
prides himself. Interestingly, given his prior claim that he
learned Alkibiades' manner through observation, most of the things
Socrates presently mentions are not things one could easily learn simply
through observation of actions. One cannot see the mobility of
Alkibiades' family or the power of his connections. More important to
Socrates' point, one cannot see his pride in his family. He might
"look proud," but others must determine the reason. It is
difficult to act proud of one's looks, family and wealth while completely
abstaining from the use of language. It has thus become significant to
their relationship that Socrates was also able to observe Alkibiades'
speech, for it is through speech that pride in one's family can be made
manifest. By listing these features, Socrates simultaneously shows
Alkibiades that he has given considerable thought to the character of the
youth. He is able to explain the source of a condition of Alkibiades'
psyche without having ever spoken to Alkibiades. Only a special sort of
observer, it seems, could accomplish that. Alkibiades presumes he
needs no human assistance in any of his 68 affairs; beginning
with the body and ending with the soul, he believes his assets make him
self-sufficient. As all can see, Alkibiades is not 69
in error believing his beauty and stature to be of the highest
quality. Secondly, his family is one of the mightiest in the city and his
city the greatest in Greece. He has numerous friends and relatives
through his father and equally through his mother, who are among the best
of men. Stronger than the advantages of all those kinsmen, however, is
the power he envisions coming to him from Perikles, the guardian of
Alkibiades and his brother. Perikles can do what he likes in Greece and
even in barbarian countries. That kind of power - the power to do as one
likes - Alkibiades is seeking (cf. 134e-135b). The last item Socrates
includes in the list is the one Alkibiades least relies on for his
self-esteem, namely his wealth. Socrates places the greatest
emphasis on Alkibiades' descent and the advantages that accrue therefrom.
This is curious for he was pur¬ portedly supplying Alkibiades' reasons
for feeling self-sufficient; if this is a true list, he has done the
contrary, indicating Alkibiades to be quite dependent upon his family.
Even so, the amount of stress on the family appears to exceed that
necessary for showing Alkibiades not to be self-sufficient. As has
already been observed, this is accomplished by paying close attention to
the words at the start of the dialogue. At this point, Alkibiades'
father's relations and friends, his mother's relations and friends, his
political connections through his kinsmen and his uncle's great power are
mentioned as well as the position of his family in the city and of his
city in the Hellenic world. Relative to the other resources mentioned,
Socrates goes into considerable depth with regards to Alkibiades'
descent. It is literally the central element in the set of features that
Socrates wanted to be permitted to name as the cause of Alkibiades'
self-esteem. Quite likely then, the notion of descent and its connections
to human nature (as Alkibiades' descent is connected, by Socrates'
implication, to qualities of his nature) are more important to the
understanding of the dialogue than appears at the surface. This
discussion will be renewed later at the opening of the longest speech in
the First Alkibiades . At that point both participants claim divine
ancestry immediately after agreeing that better natures come from
well-born families (120d-121a). That will afford the reader an
opportunity to examine why they might both think their descent
significant. Socrates has offered this account of Alkibiades'
high-mindedness suggesting they are Alkibiades' resources "beginning
with the body and ending with the soul." In fact, after mentioning
the excellence of his physical person, Socrates talks of Alkibiades'
parents, polis , kinsmen, guardian, and wealth. Unless the reader is to
understand a man's soul to be made by his family (and that is not said
explicitly), these things do not even appear to lead toward a consideration
of the qualities of his soul, but lead in a different direction. One
might expect a treatment of such things as Alkibiades' great desires,
passions, virtues and thoughts, not of his kinsfolk and wealth. Perhaps
the reader is not yet close enough to an understanding of the human soul.
At this point he may not be prepared to discern the qualities of soul in
Alkibiades which would properly be styled "great." Socrates and
Alkibiades may provide instruction for the reader in the dialogue, so that
by the end of his study he will be better able to make such a judgement
were he to venture one now, it might be based on conventional opinions of
greatness. By not explicitly stating Alkibiades' qualities of soul at
this point, the reader is granted the opportunity to return again, later,
and supply them himself. The psyche is more difficult to perceive than
the body, and as is discussed in the First Alkibiades (129a-135e), this
significant¬ ly compounds the problems of attaining knowledge of either.
If this is what Socrates is indicating by apparently neglecting the
qualities of Alkibiades' soul, he debunks Alkibiades' assets as he lists
them. The features more difficult to discern, if discerned, would be
of a higher rank. Fewer men would understand them. Socrates, however,
lists features of Alkibiades that are plain for all to see. The qualities
that even the vulgar can appreciate, when said to be such are not what the
superior youth would most pride himself upon. The many are no very
serious judges of a man's qualities. In view of these advantages,
Alkibiades has elevated himself and overpowered his lovers, and according
to Socrates, Alkibiades is well aware of how it happened that they fled,
feeling inferior to his might. Precisely on account of this Socrates can
claim to be certain that Alkibiades is wondering about him. Socrates says
that he "knows well" that Alkibiades must be wondering why he
has not gotten rid of his eros . What he could possibly be hoping for,
now that the rest have fled is a mystery. Socrates, by remaining despite
the experience of the rest, has made himself intriguing. This is
especially the case given his analysis of Alkibiades. How could Socrates
possible hope to compete with Alkibiades in terms of the sort of criteria
important to Alkibiades? He is ugly, has no famous family, and is
poor. Yet Socrates had not been overpowered; he does not feel inferior.
Here is indeed a strange case, or so it must seem to the arrogant young
man. Socrates has managed to flatter Alkibiades by making him out to be
obviously superior to any of his (other) lovers - but he also places
himself above Alkibiades, despite the flattery. In his first
speech to Alkibiades, Socrates has praised him and yet undercut some of
his superiority. He has aroused Alkibiades' interest both in Socrates and
in Socrates' understanding of him. It is conceivable that no other
admirer of Alkibiades has been so frank, and it is likely that none have
been so strange - to the point of alluding to daimons. Yet something
about Socrates and Socrates' peculiar erotic attraction to Alkibiades
makes Alkibiades interested in hearing more from the man. It is
clear that he cannot want to listen merely because he enjoys being
flattered and gratified, for Socrates' speech is ironic in its praise. He
takes even as he gives. Philosophically, this op ening speech
contains a reference to most of the themes a careful reader will
recognize as being treated in the dialogue. Some of these should be listed
to give an indication of the depths of the speech that remain
to be plumbed. The reader is invited to examine the nature of power -
what it is essentially and through what it affects human action. As
conventionally understood, and as it is attractive to Alkibiades, power
is the ability to do what one wants. According to such an account, it
seems Perikies has power. This notion of power is complicated by the
non-human power referred to by Socrates which stops one from doing what
one wants. Power is also shown to be connected to speech. Another closely
related theme is knowledge. All of these are connected explicitly in that
the daimonic power knew when to allow speech . In the opening speech by
Socrates, he claims to know something, and the reader is introduced to a
consideration of observation and speech as sources of knowledge. He is
also promised a look at what distinguishes one's perception of oneself
from other's opinions of one, through Socrates' innuendo that his
perception of Alkibiades may not be what Alkibiades perceives himself to
be. There is also reference to a difference in ability to perceive
people's natures - namely the many's ability is contrasted with
Socrates', as is the ability of the high- minded suitors. The dialogue
will deal with this theme in great depth. Should it turn out that this
ability is of essential importance to a man's fulfillment, the reader is
hereby being invited to examine what are the essentially different natures
of men. Needless to say, the reader of the dialogue should return again
and again to this speech, to the initial treatment of these fundamental
questions. The relationship of body to soul, as well as the role of
'family' and ' polis ' in the account of man's nature, are introduced
here in the opening words. They indicate the vastness of the problem of
understanding the nature of man. Socrates and Alkibiades seem superior to
everyone else, but they too are separate. Socrates is shown to be unique
in some sense and he cites especially strange causes of his actions.
There is no mention of philosophy or philosopher in this dialogue, but
the reader is introduced to a strange man whose eros is different from
other men, in¬ cluding some regarded as quite excellent, and who is
motivated by an as yet unexplained daimonic power. On another
level, the form of the speech and the delivery itself attest to some of
the thought behind the appropriateness or inappropriate¬ ness of saying
certain things in certain situations. Even the mechanics or logistics of
the discussion prove illuminating to the problem. In addition, the very
fact that they are conversing tog ether and not depicted as
fighting together in battle, or even debating with each other in the public
assembly, renders it possible that speech - and perhaps even a certain
kind of speech (e.g., private, dialectical) - is essential to the
relation between the two superior men said to begin in the First
Alkibiades . Finally (though not to suggest that the catalogue of
themes is complete), one must be awakened to the significance of the
silence being finally broken. With Socrates' first words, the dialogue
has begun to take place. Socrates and Alkibiades have commenced their
verbal relationship. There is plenty of concern in the dialogue about
language: what is to be said and not said, and when and how it is to be
said. The first speech by Socrates in the First Alkibiades has alerted the
reader to this. Alkibiades addresses Socrates for the first
time. Though already cognizant of his name, Alkibiades does not appear to
know anything else about him. To Socrates' rather strange introduction he
responds that he was ready to speak with reference to the same issue;
Socrates has just slightly beat him. Alkibiades seems to have been
irritated by Socrates' constant presence and was on the brink of asking
him why he kept bother¬ ing him. Socrates' opening remarks have probably
mitigated his annoyance somewhat and allowed him to express himself in
terms of curiosity instead. He admits, indeed he emphatically affirms
(104d), that he is wondering about Socrates' motives and suggests he
would be glad to be informed. Alkibiades thus expresses the reader's own
curiosity; one wonders in a variety of respects about what Socrates'
objective might be. Alkibiades might perceive different possibilities
than the reader since he seems thoroughly unfamiliar with Socrates. A
reader might wonder if Socrates wanted to influence Alkibiades, and to
what end. Did Socrates want to make Alkibiades a philosopher; what kind
of attraction did he feel for Alkibiades; why did he continue to
associate with him? These questions and more inevitably confront the
reader of the First Alkibiades even though they might at first appear to
be outside the immediate bonds of the dialogue. For these sorts of
questions are carried to a reading of the dialogue, as it were; and given
the notoriety of Alkibiades and of Socrates, it is quite possible that
they were intended to be in the background of the reader's thoughts.
Perhaps the dialogue will provide at least partial answers.
If Alkibiades is as eager to hear as he claims, Socrates can assume that
he will pay attention to the whole story. Socrates will not then have to
expend effort in keeping Alkibiades' attention, for Alkibiades has
assured him he is interested. Alkibiades answers that he certainly shall
listen. Socrates, not quite ready to begin, insists that Alkibiades
be prepared for perhaps quite a lengthy talk. He says it would be
no wonder if the stopping would be as difficult as the starting
was. One does not expect twenty years of non-stop talk from
Socrates, naturally, and so one is left to wonder - despite (or
perhaps because of) his claim that 70 there is no cause
for wonder - why he is making such a point about this beginning and the
indeterminacy of the ending. The implication is that there remains some
acceptable and evident relation between beginnings and endings for the
reader to discern. In an effort to uncover what he is, paradoxically, not
to wonder about, the careful reader will keep track of the various things
that are begun and ended and how they are begun and ended in the First
Alkibiades . Although innocuous here, Alkibiades' response "speak
good man, I will listen," gives the reader a foreshadowing of his
turning around at the end of the dialogue. There it is suggested that
Alkibiades will silently listen to Socrates. Until the time of the
dialogue the good man has been silent, listening and observing while any
talking has been done by Alkibiades or his suitors. Assured
of a listener, Socrates begins. He is convinced that he must speak.
However difficult it is for a lover to talk to a man who disdains lovers,
Socrates must be daring enough to speak his mind. This is the first
explicit indication the reader is given concerning certain qualities of
soul requisite for speaking, not only for acting. It also suggests some
more or less urgent, but undisclosed, necessity for Socrates to speak at
this time. Should Alkibiades seem content with the above mentioned
possessions, Socrates is confident that he would be re¬ leased from his
love for Alkibiades - or so he has persuaded himself. Socrates is
attracted to the unlimited ambition Alkibiades possesses. The caveat
introduced by Socrates (about his having so persuaded himself) draws
attention to the difference between passions and reason as guides to
action, and perhaps also a difference between Socrates and other men. For
the most part one cannot simply put an end to passions on the basis of
reason. One may be able to substitute another passion or appetite, but it
is not as easy to rid oneself of it. However, instead of having to put
away his love, Socrates is going to lay Alkibiades' thought open to
him. Socrates intends to reveal to Alkibiades the youth's ambition.
This can only be useful in the event that he has never considered his
goals under precisely the same light that Socrates will shed on them.
By doing this Socrates will also accomplish his intention of proving
to Alkibiades that he has paid careful attention to the youth
(105a). Alkibiades should be in a position to recognize Socrates' concern
by the end of this speech; this suggests a capability on the part of both.
Many cannot admit the motives of their own actions, much less reveal to
someone else that person's own thoughts. Part of the significance of the
following discussion, therefore, is to indicate both Socrates'
attentiveness to Alkibiades and Alkibiades' perception of it.
Should some (unnamed) god ask Alkibiades if he would choose to die
rather than be satisfied with the possessions he has, he would choose to
die. That is Socrates' belief. If Socrates is right, it bespeaks a high
ambition for Alkibiades, and it does so whether or not Alkibiades thought
of it before. His possessions, mentioned so far, include beauty and
stature, great kinsmen and noble family, and great wealth (though the
last is least important to him). In an obvious sense, Alkibiades must remain
content with some of what he has. He cannot, for example, acquire a
greater family. His ambition, then, as Socrates indicates, is for
something other than he possesses. The hopes of Alkibiades' life are to
stand before the Athenian ekklesia and prove to them that he is more
honorable than anyone, ever, including Perikles. As one worthy of
honor he should be given the greatest power, and having the greatest
power here, he would be the greatest among Greeks and even among the
barbarians of the continent. If the god should further propose that
Alkibiades could be the ruler of Europe on the condition that he not pass
into Asia, Socrates believes Alkibiades would not choose to live. He
desires to fill the world with his name and power. Indeed Socrates
believes that Alkibiades thinks no man who ever lived worthy of
discussion besides Kyros and Xerxes ( the Great Kings of Persia). Of this
Socrates claims to be sure, not merely supposing - those are Alkibiades'
hopes. There are a number of interesting features about the
pretense of Alkibiades responding to a god. Alkibiades might not admit
the extent of his ambition to the Athenian people who would fear him, or
even to his mother, who would fear for him; it therefore would matter who
is allegedly asking the question. It is a god, an unidentified god
whose likes and dislikes thus remain unknown. Alkibiades cannot take
into account the god's special province and adjust his answer
accordingly. The significance of the god is most importantly that
he is more powerful than Alkibiades can be. But why could not Socrates
have simply asked him, or, failing that, pretend to ask him as he does in
a moment? It is pos¬ sible that speaking with an omniscient god would
allow Alkibiades to reveal his full desire; he would not be obliged to
hid his ambition from such a god as he would from most men in democratic
Athens. But it is also plausible that Socrates includes the god in the
discussion for the purpose of limiting Alkibiades' ambition (or perhaps
as a standard for power/knowledge). Not to suggest that Socrates means to
moderate what Alkibiades can do, he nevertheless must have realistic
bounds put upon his political ambition. Assume, for the moment, that more
questions naturally follow the proposal of limiting his rule to Europe.
If Alkibiades were talking to Socrates (instead of to a deity with
greater power), he might not stop at Asia. If he thought of it, he might
wish to control the entire world and its destiny. He would dream that
fate or chance would even be within the scope of his ambition. The
god in this example is presented as being in a position to determine
Alkibiades' fate; he can limit the alternatives open to Alkibiades and
can have him die. With Socrates' illustration, Alkibiades is confronting
a being which has a power over him that he cannot control. The young man
is at least forced to pretend to be in a situation in which he cannot
even decide which options are available. It is import¬ ant for a
political ruler to realize the limits placed on him by fate. The
notion that the god is asking Alkibiades these questions makes it
unlikely that Alkibiades would answer that he should like to rule heaven
and earth, or even that he would like supreme control of earth (for that
is likely to be the god's own domain). Alkibiades probably won't suggest
to a god that he wants to rule Fate or the gods of the Iliad who hold the
fate of humans so much in hand. Chance cannot be controlled by
humans, either through persuasion or coersion. It can only have its
effect reduced by knowledge. Alkibiades' political ambitions have
to be moderated to fit what is within the domain of fate and chance
and to be educated about the limits of the politically possible.
Socrates, by pretending that a god asks the questions, can allow
Alkibiades to admit the full extent of his ambitions over humans,
but it also serves to keep him within the arena of human politics.
If he would have answered Socrates or a trusted friend in
discussion, he might not have easily accepted that limit. It is
necessary for any politically ambitious man, and doubly so if he is
young, to cultivate a respect for the limits of what can
politically be accomplished under one's full control. This may have helped
Alkibiades establish a political limit m his own mind. Another
feature of the response to the god which should be noted is that it marks
the second of three of Socrates' exaggerated claims to know aspects of
Alkibiades' soul. In the event that the reader should have missed the
first one wherein he claims to "know well" that Alkibiades
wonders (104c), Socrates here emphasizes it. He is not simply inferring
or guessing, he asserts; he knows this is Alkibiades' hope (105c).
Shortly he will claim to have observed Alkibiades during every moment the
boy was out of doors, and thus to know all that Alkibiades has learned
(106e). Just as it is impossible for Socrates to have watched
Alkibiades at every moment, so he cannot be certain of what thought is
actually going through Alkibiades' mind. Socrates' claim to knowledge has
to be based on something other than physical experience or being
taught. Alkibiades has not told anyone that these are his high
hopes. Perhaps Socrates' knowledge is grounded in some kind of
experience He knows what state Alkibiades' soul is in because he
knows what Alkibiades must hope, wonder and know. It may be that
Socrates has an access to this knowledge of Alkibiades' soul
through his own soul. His soul may be or may have been very like
Alkibiades'. Since Socrates will later argue that one cannot know
another without knowing oneself perhaps one of the reasons he knows
Alkibiades' soul so well is that it matches his in some way. It is not out
of the question that their souls share essential features and that those
features perhaps are not shared by all other men. Clearly not all other
men have found knowledge of Alkibiades' soul as accessible as has
Socrates. And Socrates will be taking Alkibiades' soul on a discussion
beyond the bounds of Athenian politics and politicians. He instructs
Alkibiades that his soul cannot be patterned upon a conventional model,
just as Socrates is obviously not modelling himself upon a standard
model. These two men are somehow in a special position for understanding
each other, and their common sight beyond the normally accepted standards
may be what allows Socrates to make such apparently outrageous
claims. At this point, instead of waiting to see how Alkibiades will
respond, Socrates manufactures his own dialogue, saying that Alkibiades
would naturally ask what the point is. He is supposing that Alkibiades
recognizes the truth of what has gone before. Since it is likely that
Alkibiades would have enjoyed the speech to this point and thought it
good, Socrates must bring him back to the topic. By using this device of
a dialogue within a speech, Socrates is able to remind Alkibiades (and
the reader) - by pretending to have Alkibiades remind Socrates - that
they were supposed to learn not Alkibiades' ambitions, but those of
Socrates (supposing that they are indeed different). Socrates
responds (to his own question) that he conceives himself to have so great
a power ove r Alkibiades that the dear son of Kleinias
and Deinomakhe will not be able to achieve his hopes without the
philosopher's assistance (105d). Because of this power the god prevented
him from speaking with Alkibiades. Socrates hopes to win as complete a
power over Alkibiades as Alkibiades does over the polis . They both wish
to prove themselves invaluable, Socrates by showing himself more worthy
than Alkibiades' guardian or relatives in being able to transmit to him
the power for which he longs. The god prevented Socrates from talking when
Alkibiades was younger, that is, before he held such great hopes. Now,
since Alkibiades is prepared to listen, the god has set him on.
Alkibiades wants power but he does not know what it is, essentially.
Yet he must come to know in order not to err and harm himself. Part
of the relationship between philosophy and politics is suggested here,
and perhaps also some indication of why Socrates and Alkibiades need
each other. An understanding of the causes of their coming together would
be essential to an account of their relation, it seems, and such
under¬ standing is rendered more problematic by the role of the
god. Socrates wants as complete power over Alkibiades as
Alkibiades does over the polis . If one supposes that the power is
essentially similar, this might imply that Socrates would actually have
the power over the polis . A complete power to make someone else do as
one wants (as power is conventionally understood) seems to be the same
over an individual as over a state. Socrates and Alkibiades hope to
prove themselves invaluable (105a). That is not the same as being worthy
of honor (105b); past performance is crucial to the question of
one's honor, whereas a possibility of special expertise in the future
is sufficient to indicate one is invaluable. If a teacher is able
to promise that his influence will make manifest to one the problems
with one's opinions, and will help to clarify them, the teacher has
indicated himself to be invaluable. Should one then, on the basis of the
teacher's influence change one's opinions, and thus one's advice and
actions, the teacher will, in effect, be the man with power over all that
is affected by one's advice and actions, over all over which one has
power. Socrates, in affecting politically-minded youths, has an effect
on the polity. To have power over the politically powerful is to have
power in politics. Socrates' daimon had not let Socrates approach while
Alkibiades' hopes for rule were too narrowly contained. His ambitions had
to become much greater. If for no other reason than to see that over
which Socrates expects or intends to have indirect power, one should be
eager to discover Alkibiades' ambition - to discover that end which he
has set for himself, or which Socrates will help to set for him. The reader
also has in mind the historical Alkibiades: to the extent to which
Alkibiades' designs in Europe and Asia did come to pass, was Socrates
responsible as Plato, here, has him claim to be? The reader might also be
curious about the reverse: what actions of the historical Alkibiades make
this dialogue (and Socrates' regard) credible? Alkibiades is
astounded, Socrates sounds even stranger than he looks. But Alkibiades'
interest is aroused, even if he is skeptical. He doesn't admit to
the ambitions that have been listed; however he will concede them for the
sake of finding out just how Socrates thinks of himself as the sole means
through whom Alkibiades can hope to realize them. Perhaps he never had
the opportunity to characterize his ambitions that way - he may never have
talked to a god. Socrates may only have clarified those hopes for
Alkibiades; but on the other hand, the philosopher (partly, at
least) may be responsible for imparting them to the young man. At
any rate, even if Socrates merely made these goals obvious to the
youth, one must wonder as to his purpose. Alkibiades feels
confident in claiming that no denial on his part will persuade
Socrates. He asks Socrates to speak (106a). Socrates replies
with a question which he answers himself. He asks if Alkibiades
expects him to speak in the way Alkibiades normally hears people
speak - in long speeches. Alkibiades' background is thus 73
indicated to some extent. He has heard orators proclaim. Socrates
points out that he will proceed in a way that is unusual to Alkibiades
- at least in so far as proving claims. By suggesting there is more
than one way to speak, Socrates indicates that differences of style
are significant in speech, and he invites the reader to
judge/consider which is appropriate to which purposes.
Socrates protests that his ability is not of that sort (the
orator's), but that he could prove his case to Alkibiades if Alkibiades
consents to do one bit of service. By soliciting Alkibiades' efforts,
Socrates may be intending to gain a deeper commitment from the
youth. If he is responsible somewhat for the outcome he may be more
sincere in 74 his answers. Alkibiades will consent to do a
service that is not difficult; he is interested
but not willing to go to a great deal of trouble. At this stage of
the discussion he has no reason to believe 75 that fine
things are hard. Upon Socrates' query as to whether answering questions
is considered difficult, Alkibiades replies that it is not.
Socrates tells him to a nswer and Alkibiades tells Socrates to ask. His
response suggests that Alkibiades has never witnessed a true dialectical
discuss ion. He has just played question and answer
games. Not many who have experienced a dialogue, and even fewer who
have spoken with Socrates, would say it is not hard.
Alkibiades, too, soon experiences difficulty. Socrates asks
him if he'll admit he has these intentions but Alkibiades won't
affirm or deny except toget on with the conversation. Should
Socrates want to believe it he may; Alkibiades desires to know what
is coming before he acknowledges more. Accepting this, Socrates
proceeds. Alkibiades, he notes, intends shortly to present himself
as an advisor to the Athenians. If Socrates 76 were to
take hold of him as he was about to ascend the rostrum in front of the
ekklesia and were to ask him upon what subject they wanted advice such as
he could give, and if it was a subject about which Alkibiades knew better
than they, what would he answer? This is an example of a common
Socratic device, one of imagining that the circumstances are other than
they are. Socrates hereby employs I it for the third
time in the dialogue, and each provides a different effe ct.
On the first occasion, Socrates pretended a god was present to provide
Alkibiades with an important choice. Socrates did not speak in his own
name. The second example was when Socrates ventured that Alkibiades would
ask a certain question, and so answered it without waiting to see if he
would indeed have asked that question. In both of those, the physical
setting of the First Alkibi ades was appropriate to his
intentions. This time, however, Socrates supplies another setting - a
very different setting - for a part of the discussion. Speech is
plastic in that it enables Socrates to manufacture an almost limitless
variety of situations. By the sole use of human reason and imagination,
people are able to consider their actions in different lights. This is
highly desirable as it is often difficult to judge a decision from within
the context in which it was made. The malleability of circumstances that
is possible in speech allows one to examine thoughts and policies from
other perspectives. One may thus, for example, evaluate whether it is
principle or prejudice that influences one's decisions, or whether
circumstance and situation play a large or a small role in the rational
outcome of the deliberation. This rather natural feature of reason also
permits some consideration of consequences without having to effect
those consequences, and this may result in the aversion of disastrous
results. The plastic character of speech is crucial to philosophic
dis¬ course as well, providing the essential material upon which
dialectics is worked. In discussion, the truly important features of a
problem may be more clearly separated from the merely incidental, through
the care¬ ful construction of examples, situations and counterexamples.
If not for the ability to consider circumstances different from the one
in which one finds oneself, thinking and conversing about many things
would be impossible. And this is only one aspect of the plasticity of
speech which proves important to philosophic discussion. Good
dialogic partners exhibit this ability, since they require speech for
much more than proficiency in logical deduction. Speech and human
imagination must work upon each other. Participants in philosophical
argument must recognize connections between various subjects and
different circum¬ stances. To a large extent, the level of thought is
determined by the thinker's ability to 'notice' factors of importance to
the inquiry at hand. The importance of 'noticing' to philosophic argument
will be con¬ sidered with reference to two levels of participation in the
First Alkibiades , both of which clearly focus on the prominence of the
above mentioned unique properties of speech as opposed to action.
'Noticing' is important to dialectics in that it describes how,
typically, Socrates' arguments work. An interlocutor will suggest,
say, a solution to a problem, and upon reflection, Socrates - or another
inter¬ locutor (e.g., as per llOe) - will notice, for example, that the
solution apparently doesn't work in all situations (i.e., a
counter-example occurs to him), or that not all aspects of the solution
are satisfactory, and so on. The ability of the participants to recognize
what is truly im¬ portant to the discussion, and to notice those features
in a variety of other situations and concerns, is wha
t lends depth to the analysis. As this has no doubt been experienced by
anyone who has engaged in serious arguments, it presumably need not be
further elaborated. The other aspect in which 'noticing' is
important to philosophy and how it influences, and is in turn influenced
by, rational discourse is in terms of how one ought to read a philosophic
work. As hopefully will be shown in this commentary on the First
Alkibiades , a reader's ability to notice dramatic details of the
dialogue, a nd his persistence in carefully examining what he
notices, importantly affects the benefit he derives from the study of the
dialogue. Frequently, evidence to this effect can be gathered through
reflective consideration of Socrates' apparently off-hand examples, which
turn out upon examination to be neither offhand in terms of their
relation to significant aspects of the immediate topic, nor isolated in
terms of bringing the various topics in the dialogue into focus. As shall
become more apparent as the analysis proceeds, the examples of ships and
doctors, say, are of exceedingly more philosophic importance than their
surface suggests. Not only do they metaphorically provide a depth to the argument
(perhaps unwitnessed by any participant in the dialogue besides the
reader) but through their repeated use, they also help the reader
to discern essential philosophic connections between various parts of the
subject under discussion. The importance of 'recognition' and
'noticing' to dialectics (and the importance of the malleability of
subject matter afforded by speech) may be partly explained by the
understanding of the role of metaphor in human reason. Dialectics
involves the meticulous division of what has been properly collected
(c.f., for example Phaidros 266b). Time and time again, evidence is
surveyed by capable partners and connections are drawn
between relevantly similar matters before careful distinctions are
outlined. The ability to recognize similarities, to notice connections,
seems similar to the mind's ability to grasp metaphor. Metaphor relies to
an important extent on the language user's readiness to 'collect' similar
features from various subjects familiar to him, a procedure the reader of
the First Alkibiades has observed to be crucial to the philosophic
enterprise. Socrates often refrains from directly asking a
question, pre¬ facing it by "supposing someone were to ask" or
even "supposing I were to ask." The circumstances of the
encounters need to be examined in order to understand his strategy. What
might be the relevance of Socrates asking Alkibiades to imagine he was
about to ascend the plat¬ form, instead of, for example, in the market
place, in another city, near a group of young men, or in the privacy of
his own home? And why could not the setting be left precisely the same as
the setting of the dialogue? The situation at the base of the platform in
front of the ekklesia is, needless to say, quite a bit different from the
situation they are in now. Alkibiades is not likely to give the same
answer if his honor and his entire political career are at stake, as they
might be in such a profoundly public setting. Socrates' device, on this
occasion helps serve to indicate that what counts as politic, or polite,
speech varies in different circumstances. As Socrates has
constructed the example, the Athenians proposed to take advice on a
subject and Alkibiades presumed to give them advice. This might severely
limit the subjects on which Alkibiades or another politician could
address them. Were the ekklesia about to take counsel on something, it
would be a m atter they felt was settled by special knowledge, and
a subject on which there were some people with recognizable expertise.
The kinds of questions they believe are settled by uncommon knowledge or
expertise may be rather limited. It is not likely that they would ask for
advice on matters of justice. Most people feel they are competent to
decide that (i.e., that the knowledge relevant to deciding is generally
available, or common). Expertise is acknowledged in strategy and tactics,
but knowledgeability about politics in general is less likely to be
conceded than ability in matters of efficacy. All of these sentiments
limit the kinds of advice which can be given to the ekklesia , and the
councillor's problems are compounded by such considera¬ tions as what
things can be persuasively addressed in public speeches
to a mixed audience, and what will be effective in pleasing and
attracting the sympathy of the audience to the speaker. To be
rhetorically effect¬ ive one must work with the
beliefs/opinions/prejudices people confidently and selfishly hold. Alkibiades
agrees with Socrates that he would answer that it was a subject about
which he had better knowledge. He would have to. If Alkibiades wishes to
be taken seriously by them, he should so answer in front of the people.
Even if he would be fully aware of his ignorance, he might have motives
which demand an insistence on expertise. He couldn't admit to several
purposes for which he might want to influence the votes of the citizenry.
Not all of those reasons can be made known to them; not all of those
reasons can be voiced from the platform at the ekklesia . Sometimes
politicians have to make decisions without certain knowledge, but must
nevertheless pretend confidence. These considerations indicate again the
importance of the role of speech to the themes of this dialogue. There is
a difference between public and private speech. Some things simply cannot
be said in front of a crowd of people, and other things which would not
be claimed in private conversation with trusted friends would have to be
affirmed in front of the ekklesia . Just as a speaker may take
advantage of the fact that crowds can be aroused and swept along by
rhetoric that would not so successfully move an individual (e.g.,
patriotic speeches inciting citizens to war, and on the darker side,
lynch mobs and riots), so he understands that he could never admit to a
crowd things he might disclose to a trusted friend (e.g., criticizing re
ligious or political authorities). Socrates suggests that
Alkibiades believes he is a good advisor on that which he knows, and
those would be things which he learned from others or through his own
discovery. Alkibiades agrees that there don't seem to be any other
alternatives. Socrates further asks if he would have learned or
discovered anything if he hadn't been willing to learn or inquire into it
and whether one would ask about or learn what one thought one knew.
Alkibiades readily agrees that there must have been a period in his life
when he might have admitted to ignorance to which he doesn't admit now.
Socrates suggests that one learns only what one is willing to learn and
discovers only what one is willing to inquire into . The asymmetry of
this may indicate the general problems of the argument as the difference
in phrasing (underlined) alerts the reader to examine it more closely.
Discoveries, of course, usually involve a large measure of accident
or chance. And if they are the result of an inquiry, the in¬ quiry often
has a different or more general object. Columbus didn't set out to
discover the New World; he wanted to establish a shorter trading route to
the Far East. Darwin did not set out to discover evolution; he sought to
explain why species were different. Earlier he did not set out to
discover that species were different; he observed the animal kingdom. Not
only may one stumble upon something by accident, but by looking for one
thing one may come to know something else. For example, someone might not
be motivated by a recognition of ignorance but may be trying to prove a
claim to knowledge. In the search for proof he may find the truth. Or,
alternatively, in the pursuit of some¬ thing altogether different, such
as entertainment through reading a story, one may discover that another
way of life is better. The argu¬ ment thus appears to be flawed in that
it is not true that one discovers only what one is willing to inquire
into. Thus Alkibiades may have discovered what he now claims to know
without ever having sought it as a result of recognizing his ignorance.
Socrates has been able to pass this argument by Alkibiades because of the
asymmetry of the statement. Had he said "one discovers only what one
is willing to discover," Alkibiades might have
objected. Another difficulty with the argument is that one is simply
not always willing to learn what others teach and one nevertheless
may learn. One might actually be unwilling, but more often one is
simply neutral, or oblivious to the fact that one is learning. In the
case of the former (learning despite being unwilling), one need only
remember that denying what one hears does not keep one from hearing it.
Propa¬ ganda can be successful even when it is known to be
propaganda. However, by far the most common counter-example to
Socrates' argument is the learning that occurs in everyday life. Many things
are not learned as the result of setting out to learn. Such knowledge
is acquired in other ways. Men come to have a common sense
understanding of cause and effect by simply doing and watching. One
learns one's name and who one's mother is long before choosing to learn,
being willing to study, or coming to recognize one's ignorance. Language
is learned with almost no conscious effort, and one is nurtured into
conventions without setting out to learn them. Notions of virtues are
gleaned from stories and from shades of meaning in the language, or even
as a result of learning a language. And, in an obvious sense, whenever
anything is heard, something is learned - even if only that such a person
said it. One cannot help observing; one does not selectively see
when one one's eyes are open, and one cannot even close one's ears to
avoid hearing. The above are, briefly, two problems with the part
of Socrates' argument that suggests people learn or discover only what
they are willing to learn or inquire into. The other parts of the
argument may be flawed as well. Socrates has pointed to the reader's
discovery of some flaws by a subtle asymmetry in his question. It is up
to the reader to examine the rest (in this case - to be willing to
inquire into it). For example, there may be difficulties with the first
suggestion that one knows only what one has learned or discovered. It is
possible that there are innate objects of knowledge and that they are
important to later development. Infants, for example, have an ability to
sense comfort and discomfort which is later transferred into feeling a
wide variety of pleasures and pains. They neither learn this, nor
discover it (in any ordinary sense of "discovery"). The sense
of pleasure and pain quite naturally is tied to and helps to shape a
child's sense of justice (110b), and may thus be significant to the
argument about Alkibiades' knowledge or opinions about justice. In any
event, closer examination of Socrates' argument has shown the reader that
the problem of knowing is sufficiently complex to warrant his further
attention. The rest of the dialogue furnishes the careful reader with
many examples and problems to consider in his attempt to understand how
he comes to know and what it means to know. Socrates knows
quite well what things Alkibiades has learned, and if he should omit
anything in the relating, Alkibiades must correct him. Socrates
recollects that he learned writing, harping and wrestling - and refused
to learn fluting. Those are the things Alkibiades knows then, unless he
was learning something when he was unobserved - but that, Socrates
declares, is unlikely since he was watching whenever Alkibiades stepped
out of doors, by day or by night. The reader will grant that the
last claim is an exaggeration. Socrates could not have observed every
outdoor activity of the boy for so many years. Yet Socrates persists in
declaring that he knows what Alkibiades learned out of doors. As suggested
earlier, Socrates may be indicating that he knows Alkibiades through his
own soul. In that event one must try to understand why Socrates couldn't
likewise claim to know what went on indoors, or why Socrates doesn't
announce to Alkibiades an assumption that what goes on indoors is pretty
much the same everywhere. The reader may find what Alkibiades may have
learned "indoors" much more mysterious, and he may consider it
odd that Socrates does not have access to that- What occurs indoors (and
perhaps to fully understand one would need to acknowledge a metaphoric
dimension to "indoor") that would account for Socrates drawing
attention to his knowledge of the outdoor activities of Alkibiades?
Even if one confines one's attention to the literal meaning, there
is much of importance in one's nurture that happens inside the home.
Suffice it to notice two things. The first is that the domestic scene in
general, and household management in particular, are of crucial im¬
portance to politics. The second is that the teachers inside the home are
typically the womenfolk. These are of significance both to this
dialogue and (not un¬ related) to an understanding of politics. Attention
is directed, for example, toward the maternal side of the two
participants in this dialogue. In addition, as has already been mentioned,
the womenfolk in this dialogue are the only ones who wonder, besides
Alkibiades. The women are within (cf. Symposium 176e); they have quite an
effect on the early nurture of children (cf. Republic 377b-c and
context). Perhaps the women teach something indoors that Socrates could
not see, or would not know regardless of how closely akin he was to
Alkibiades by nature. If that is so, the political significance of
early education, of that education which is left largely to women,
assumes a great importance. Women> it is implied, are able to do
something to sons that men cannot and perhaps even something which men cannot
fully appreciate. An absolutely crucial question arises: How is it proper
for women to in¬ fluence sons? Socrates proceeds to find out
which of the areas of Alkibiades' expertise is the one he will use in the
assembly when giving advice. In response to Socrates' query whether it is
when the Athenians take advice on writing or on lyre playing that
Alkibiades will rise to address them, the young man swears by Zeus that
he will not counsel them on these matters. (The possibility is left open
that someone else would advise the Athenians on these matters at the
assembly). And, Socrates adds, they aren't accustomed to deliberating
about wrestling in the ekklesia. For some reason, Socrates has distinguished
wrestling from the other two subjects. Alkibiades will not advise the
Athenians on any of the three; he will not talk about writing or
lyre-playing even if the subject would come up; he will not speak about
wrestling because the subject won't come up. Regardless of the reader's
suspicion that the first two subjects are also rarely deliberated in the
assembly, he should note the distinction Socrates draws between the
musical and the gymnastic arts. The attentive reader will also have
observed that the e ducation a boy receives in school
does not prepare him for advising men in important political matters; it
does not provide him with the kinds of knowledge requisite to a citizen's
participation in the ekklesia . But then on what will Alkibiades
advise the Athenians? It won't be about buildings or divination, for a
builder will serve better (107a- b). Regardless of whether he is short,
tall, handsome, ugly, well-born or base-born, the advice comes from the
one who knows, not the wealthy; the reader might notice that this
undercuts all previously mentioned bases of Alkibiades' self-esteem.
According to Socrates, the Athenians want a physician to advise them when
they deliberate on the health of the city; they aren't concerned if he's
rich or poor, Socrates suggests, as if being a successful physician was
in no way indicated by financial status. There are a number
of problems with this portion of the argument. Firstly, the advisor's
rhetorical power (and not necessarily his knowledge) is of enhanced
significance when that of which he speaks is something most people do not
see to be clearly a matter of technical expertise, or even of truth or
falsity instead of taste. This refers especially to those things that are
the subject of political debate. Unlike in the case of medicine, people
do not acknowledge any clear set of criteria for political expertise,
besides perhaps 'success' for one's polity, a thing not universally
agreed upon. Most people have confidence in their knowledge of the good
and just alternatives available (cf. llOc-d). Policy decisions
about what are commonly termed ’value judgements' are rarely decided
solely on the basis of reason. Especially in democracies, where mere
whims may become commands, an appeal to irrational elements in men's
souls is often more effective. Men's fears too, especially their fear of
enslavement, can be manipulated for various ends. Emotional appeals to
national pride, love of family and fraternity, and the possibility of
accumulating wealth are what move men, for it is these to which men are
attracted. Rational speech is only all-powerful if men are all-rational.
Secondly, it is not clear that a man's nobility or ignobility
should be of no account in the ekklesia. At least two reasons might be
adduced for this consideration. There is no necessary connection
between knowing and giving good advice. Malevolence as well as ignorance
may- cause it. A bad man who knows might give worse advice than an
ignorant man of good will who happens to have right opinions. Unless the
knower is a noble person there is no guarantee that he will tender his
best advice. An ignoble man may provide advice that serves a
perverse interest, and he might even do it on the basis of his expert
knowledge. Another reason for considering nobility important in advisors
is that it might be the best the citizens can do. Most Athenians would
not believe that there are experts in knowledge about justice as there
are in the crafts. If they won't grant that expertise (and there are
several reasons why it would be dangerous to give them the power to judge
men on that score), then it is probably best that they take their advice
from a gentleman, a nobleman, or even a man whose concern for his
family's honor will help to prevent his corruption. Thirdly,
since cities obviously do not succumb to fevers and 79 bodily
diseases, one must in this case treat the "physician of the diseased
city" metaphorically. It is not certain that the Athenians would
recognize the diseased condition of a city. To the extent to which they
do, they tend to regard political health in economic terms (as one speaks
of a "healthy economy"). In that case, whether a man was rich
or poor would make a great deal of difference to them. They wouldn't be
likely to take advice on how to increase the wealth (the health) of a
city from someone who could not prove his competence in that matter in
his private life. In addition, since most people are im¬ portantly
motivated by wealth, they will respect the opinions of one who is
recognizably better at what they are themselves doing - getting wealthy.
It seems to be generally the case that people will attend to the speech of
a wealthy man more than to a poorer but perhaps more virtuous man.
In other words, then, it is not clear that what Socrates has said
about the Athenian choice of advisors is true (107b-c). Moreover, it is
not clear that it should be true. Factors such as conventional nobility
probably should play a part in the choice of councillors, even if it is
basically understood in terms of being well-born. People's inability to
evaluate the physicians of the city, and people's emphasis on wealth also
are evidence against Socrates' claims. Socrates wants to know what
they'll be considering when Alkibiades stands forth to the
Athenians. It has been established that he won't advise on writing,
harping, wrestling, building or divination. Alkibiades figures he
will advise them when they are considering their own affairs.
Socrates, in seeming perversity, continues by asking if he means
their affairs concerning ship-building and what sorts of ships they
should 80 have. Since that is of course not what Alkibiades
means, Socrates proposes that the reason and the only reason is that the
young man doesn't understand the art of ship-building. Alkibiades agrees,
but the reader need not. Socrates, by emphasizing the exclusivity of
expertise through the use of so many examples, has alerted the reader,
should he otherwise have missed the point, that there are many reasons
for not advising about something besides ignorance. In some
matters, for example, it is hard to prove knowledge and it may not always
be best to go to the effort of establishing one's claim to expertise. If
the knowledgeable can perceive, say, that no harm will come the way
things are proceeding, there might not be any point to claiming
knowledge. Another reason for perhaps keeping silent is that the correct
view has been presented. There are thus other things with which to occupy
one's time. Perhaps a major reason for keeping silent about advising on
some matters is simply indifference; petty politics can be left to
others. In fact there are, it would seem, quite a number of reasons for
keeping silent besides ignorance. And, on the other hand, it is unlikely
that someone with a keen interest would acknowledge ignorance as a
sufficient condition for their silence. Many who voice their opinions on
public matters do not thereby mean to implicitly claim their expertise,
but only to express their interestedness. Socrates' ship-building
example has a few other interesting features. Firstly, in a strict sense
what Socrates and Alkibiades agree to is wrong: knowledge of shipbuilding
is not the exclusive basis for determining which ships to build.
Depending on whether it is a private or public ship-building program, the
passenger, pilot or politician decides. Triremes or pleasure-craft, or
some other specific vessels are demanded. The ship-builder then builds it
as best he can. But his building is dictated by his customers, if he is
free, or his owners, if he is a slave. The prominence of
Plato's famous "ship-of-state" analogy ( Republic 488a-489c)
allows the reader to look metaphorically at the example of
'ship-building,' and the question of what sort of 'ships' ought to get
built. In terms of the analogy, then, Socrates is asking Alkibiades if he
will be giving advice on statebuilding and what kind of polis ought to be
constructed. This is, it seems, the very thing upon which Alkibiades
wants to advise the Athenians. He wants very much to build Athens into a
super Empire. The recognition of the ship-of-state analogy brings to the
surface a most fundamental political question which lurks behind much of
the discussion of the dialogue: which sort of regime ought to be
constructed? The importance of the question of the best regime to political
philosophy is indicated and reinforced by the very test of the importance
of the question in the analogy. The con¬ sideration of what sort of ship
ought to be built stands behind the whole activity of ship-building, and
yet is one that is not answered by the technical expert. The user
(passenger/citizen) and the ruler (pilot/ statesman) are the ones that
make the decision. On the basis of an example that has already been shown
to be suspect, namely Socrates' mention of ship-building, the reader of
the First Alkibiades is provided with the opportunity to consider the
intricasies of the analogy and a question of central importance to the
political man. Alkibiades must gain t he ability to advise the
Athenians as to what ships they ought to build. For the
moment, however, Socrates asks on what affairs Alkibiades means to
give advice, and the young man answers those of war or peace or
other affairs of the polis . Socrates asks for clarification on
whether Alkibiades means they'll be deliberating about the manner
of peace and war; will they be considering questions of on whom,
how, when and how long it is better to make war (107c). But if the
Athenians were to ask these sorts of questions about wrestling,
Socrates remarks, they'd call not on Alkibiades but on the
wrestling master, and he would answer in light of what was better.
Similarly, when singing and accompanying lyre-playing and dancing, some
ways and times are better. Alkibiades agrees.The word 'better' was used
both in the case of harping to accom- 82 pany singing and in
the case of wrestling (108a-b). For wrestling the standard of the better is
provided by gymnastics; what supplies it in the case of harping?
Alkibiades doesn't understand and Socrates suggests that he imitate
him, for Socrates' pattern could be generalized to yield a correct answer
in all cases. Correctness comes into being by the art, and the art in the
case of wrestling is fairly ( kalos) said to be gymnastics (108c). If
Alkibiades is to copy Socrates, he should copy him in fair conversation,
as well, and answer in his turn what the art of harping, singing and
dancing is. But Alkibiades still cannot tell him the name of the art
(108c). Socrates attempts another tact and deviates slightly from the
pattern he had suggested Alkibiades imitate. Presumably Alkibiades will
be able to answer the questions once Socrates asks the right one. He
doesn't assume that Alkibiades is ignorant of the answer, so he takes care
in choosing the appropriate questions. Perhaps his next attempt will
solicit the desired response. The goddesses of the art are the Muses.
Alkibiades can now acknowledge that if the art is named after them, it is
called 'Music.' The musical mode, as with the earlier pattern of
gymnastics, will be correct when it follows the musical art. Now Socrates
wants Alkibiades to say what the 'better' is in the case of making war
and peace, but Alkibiades is unable. There are a number of reasons
why he would be unable on the basis of the pattern Socrates has supplied.
One of these has to do with the pattern itself. It is not clear there is
an art ( techne) , per se , of making war and peace. The closest one
could come to recognizing such an art would be to suggest it is the art
of politics, but even if that is properly an art (i.e., strictly a matter
of technical expertise) knowing only its name would not provide a clear
standard of 'better.' The term 'political' does not of its own designate
a better way to wage war and peace. Despite the possibility that the art
in this case is of a higher order than music or gymnastics, it remains
unclear that Alkibiades can use the same solution as Socrates suggested
in the case of music. Who are the gods or goddesses who give their name
to the art of war and peace? Perhaps one way to understand this curious
feature of the discussion is to consider that Socrates might be
suggesting that there is a divine standard for politics as well as for
music. According to Socrates, Alkibiades' inability to answer about
the standard or politics is disgraceful (108e). Were Alkibiades an
advisor on food, even without expert knowledge (i.e., even if he wasn't
a physician), he could still say that the 'better' was the more
wholesome. In this case, where he claims to have knowledge and
intends to advise as though he had knowledge (notice the two are not the
same), he should be ashamed to be unable to answer questions on it.
At this point the reader must pause. If Socrates simply wanted to
make this point and proceed with the argument, he has chosen an un¬
fortunate example in discussing the advisor on food. There are a number
of features of his use of this example that, if transferred, have quite
important repercussions for the discussion of the political advisor.
Firstly, it may be remarked that Socrates has admitted that the ability
to say what the 'better' is, is not always necessarily contingent upon
technical knowledge. Secondly, someone who answers "more wholesome"
as the better in food has already implicitly or explicitly accepted
a hierarchy of values. He has architectonically structured the arts
that have anything to do with food in such a manner as to place health at
the apex. Someone who had not conceded such a rank-ordering might have
said "cheapest," "most flavorful," or even
"sweetest." Thus this example clearly indicates the centrality
of understanding the architectonic nature of politics. Thirdly, and
perhaps least importantly, Socrates has more clearly indicated a
distinction that was suggested in the previous example. It is a different
matter to know that 'wholesome' food is better for one than it is to know
which foods are wholesome. Socrates had, prior to this, been attempting
to get Alkibiades to name the art which provides the standard of the good
in peace and war. Even if Alkibiades had been able to name that art,
there would have been no indication of his substantive knowledge of the
art. Conversely it might be possible that he would have substantive
knowledge of something without being able to refer to it as a named
art. One might account for Alkibiades' inability to n ame the
art of political advice by reference to something other than his
knowledge and ignorance. Perhaps the very subject matter would render
such a statement difficult. For instance, if politics is the 'art' which
structures all others, it would be with a view to politics that the
respective 'betters' in the other arts would be named. The referent of
politics would be of an entirely different order however. Perhaps its
'better,' the compre¬ hensive 'better,' would be simply 'the good.' At
any rate, it is a question of a different order, a different kind of
question, insofar as the instrumentally good is different from the good
simply. This suggestion is at least partly sustained by the observation
that Socrates uses a different method to discover the answer in this case
than in the previous 'patterns' supplied by wrestling and harping.
Alkibiades agrees that it does indeed seem disgraceful, but even
after further consideration he cannot say what the 'better' (the aim or
good providing a standard of better) is with respect to peace and war. As
Socrates' question about the goddesses of harping deviated from the example
of wrestling, so Socrates' attempt here is a deviation. He asks
Alkibiades what people say they suffer in war and what they call it.
The reader might note peace has been omitted from consideration.
Alkibiades says that what is suffered is deceit, force and robbery (109b),
and that such are suffered in either a just or an unjust way. Now
it is clearer why 'peace' was not mentioned. It might be more difficult to
argue in parallel fashion that the most important distinction in peace
was between just peace and unjust peace. Socrates asks if it is
upon the just or the unjust that Alkibiades will advise the Athenians
to make war. Alkibiades immediately recognizes at least one
difficulty. If for some reason it would be necessary to go to war with
those who are just, the advisor would not say so. That is the case not
only because it is considered unlawful, but, as Alkibiades adds, it
is not considered noble either. Socrates assumes Alkibiades will appeal to
these things when addressing the ekklesia . Alkibiades here proves
he understands the need for speaking differently to the public, or
at least for remaining prudently silent about certain matters.
Within the bounds of the argument to this point, wealth and
prestige (not to mention dire necessity) may be 'betters' in wars
as readily as justice. One may only confidently infer two things
from Alkibiades' admissions. The people listening to the advice cannot
be told that those warred upon are just; and to tell them so would be
un¬ lawful and ignoble. One might be curious as to the proper
relation between lawfulness, nobility and justice, and the reader of the
dialogue, in sorting out these considerations, might examine the argument
surrounding this statement of their relation. The next few discussions in
the First Alkibiades seem to focus on establishing Alkibiades' claim to
knowledge about justice. Either Alkibiades has not noticed his own
ignorance in this matter or Socrates has not observed his learning and
taking lessons on justice. Socrates would like to know, and he swears by
the god of friendship that he is not joking, who the man.was who taught
Alkibiades about justice. Alkibiades wants to know whether he
couldn't have learned it another way. Socrates answers that Alkibiades
could have learned it through his own discovery. Alkibiades, in a
dazzling display of quick answers, responds that he might have discovered
it if he'd inquired, and he might have inquired if there was a time when
he thought he did not know. Socrates says that Aliibiades has spoken well
(110a), but he wants to know when that time was. Socrates seems to
acknowledge Alkibiades' skill in speaking. These formally sharp answers
would probably be the kind praised in question and answer games.
Socrates says Alkibiades has spoken well, but immediately instructs
Alkibiades about how to speak in response to the next question.
Alkibiades is to speak the truth; the dialogue would be futile if he
didn't answer truly. So here it is acknowledged that truth (at least for
the sake of useful dialogue) is the standard for speaking well. He
quickly follows the insincere praise with an indication of the real
criteria for determining if something was well-spoken. Socrates is not
destroying Alkibiades' notion of his ability to achieve ideals, he is
instead destroying the ideals. He acknowledged Alkibiades' skill and then
suggests it is not a good skill to have. Socrates, in effect, tells
Alkibiades to forget the clever answers and to speak the truth. One of
the themes of Socrates' instruction of the youth seems to be the teaching
of proper goals or standards. Alkibiades admits that a year
ago he thought he knew justice and injustice, and two, three and four
years ago as well. Socrates remarks that before that Alkibiades was a
child and Socrates knows well enough that even then the precocious child
thought he knew. The philosopher had often heard Alkibiades as a boy
claim that a playmate cheated during a game, and so labelled him unjust
with perfect confidence (110b). Alkibiades concedes that Socrates speaks
the truth but asks what else should he have done when someone cheated
him? Socrates points out that this very question indicates Alkibiades'
belief that he knows the answer. If he recognized his ignorance, Socrates
responds, he would not ask what else he should have done as though there
was no alternative. Alkibiades swears that he must not have been
ignorant because he clearly perceived that he was wronged. If this
implies that, as a child, he thought he knew justice and injustice, then
so he must. And he admits he couldn't have discovered it while he thought
he knew it (110c). Socrates suggests to Alkibiades that he won't be able
to cite a time when he thought he didn't know, and Alkibiades swears
again that he can¬ not. Apparently, then, he must conclude that he cannot
know the just on the basis of discovery (llOd). This argument
appears to depend on the premise that one begins at a loss, completely
ignorant, and then one subsequently discovers what justice is. But such
an assumption is surely unwarranted. The discovery could be a slow,
gradual process of continual refinement of a child's understanding of
justice. Often one's opinions are changed because one discovers something
that doesn't square with previous beliefs. If one is sufficiently
confident of the new factor, one's beliefs may change. During the course
of the succeeding dialogue, the reader may see a number of ways in which
this procedure might take place in a person's life. Socrates
draws to Alkibiades' attention that if he doesn't know justice by
his own discovery, and didn't learn it from others, how could he
know it. Alkibiades suggests that perhaps he said the wrong thing
before and that he did in fact learn it, in the same way as everyone
else. It is not clear that this is a sincere move on Alkibiades'
part (though it proves later in the dialogue to have support as
being the actual account of the origin of most people's views of
justice). Perhaps in order to win the argument he is willing to
simply change the premises. Unfortunately, his changing of this one
entirely removes the need for the argument. Socrates doesn't bother
to point out to Alkibiades that if everybody knows it, and in the
same way, then Alkibiades has no claim to special expertise, and so
no basis for presuming to advise the Athenians. Alkibiades'
abilities in speaking have been demonstrated, a care and
willingness to learn from dialogue 86 have yet to be
instilled. As is presently indicated to Alkibiades, his answer
brings about a return to the same problem - from whom did he learn
it? To his reply that the many taught him (llOe), Socrates responds
that they are not 87 worthy teachers in whom he is
taking refuge. They are not competent 88 to teach how
to play and how not to play draughts and since that is insignificant
compared to justice, how can they teach the more serious matter?
Alkibiades perceptively counters this by pointing out that they can teach
things more worthy than draughts; it was they and no single master
who taught Alkibiades to speak Greek. Alkibiades by this point proves that
he is capable of quick and independent thought. He doesn't merely follow
Socrates' lead in answer¬ ing but in fact points out an important example
to the contrary. The Greek language is taught by the many quite capably
even though they can¬ not teach the less important draughts nor many
other peculiar skills. A number of issues important to the
discussion are brought to the surface by this example. First, one should
notice that language is another thing Alkibiades has learned which
Socrates didn't mention. Language is necessary for learning most other
subjects, and one can learn quite a lot by just listening to people
speaking. A common language is the precondition of the conversation
depicted in the First Alkibiades , as is some general agreement, however
superficial, between Socrates and Alkibiades as to what they mean when
they say 'justice.' In order to have an argument over whether or not one
of them is indeed knowledgeable about justice and injustice, they must
have some notion of what 'justice' conventionally means. They are not
talking about the height of the sky, the price of gold, or the climate on
mountaintops. Justice ( dikaios) is a word in the Greek language. Most
people share sufficient agreement about its meaning so as to be able to
teach people how the word should be used. This conventional notion of
justice thus informs a child's sense of justice, and as is shown by the
strategy of the Republic as well as of the First Alkibiades , the
conventional opinions about justice must be dealt with and accounted for
in any more philosophic treatment. One must assume that
conventional opinions about justice have some connection, however
tenuous, with the truth about it. This exempli¬ fies the peculiar nature
of 'agreement' as a criterion of knowledge. That experts agree
about their subject matter is not altogether beside the point, but too
much emphasis should not be placed upon it. There are innumerable
examples of "sectarian" agreements, none of which by that fact
have any claim to truth. There is also considerable agreement in
conventional opinions and the "world-views" of various
communities which must be accounted for but not necessarily
accepted. Socrates admits to Alkibiades (whom he chooses to
address, at this moment, as "well-born," perhaps in order to
remind him that he dis¬ tinguishes himself from the many) that the people
can be justly praised for teaching such things as language, for they are
properly equipped (and actually the many do not teach one how to use
language well). To teach, one ought to know, and an indication of their
knowing is that they agree among each other on the language. If they
disagreed they couldn't be said to know and wouldn't be able to teach.
One might parenthetically point to some other important things that the
many teach. Children learn the laws from the many, including the
laws/rules of games. To call some¬ one a cheater (110b) does not mean
someone knows justice; they simply must know the rules of the game and be
able to recognize when such rules have been violated. Rules of games are
strictly conventional. They gain their force from an agreement, implicit
or explicit, between the players. One might wonder if justice is,
correspondingly, the rules of a super- game, or if it is something
standing behind all rule-obeying. The many agree on what stone and
wood are. If one were to say "stone" or "wood," they
could all reach for the same thing. That is what Alkibiades must mean by
saying that all his fellow citizens have knowledge of Greek. And they are
good teachers in as much as they agree on these terms in public and
private. Poleis also agree among each other (111b, 118d, 126c-e;
cf. Lakhes 186d). Anyone who wanted to learn what stone and wood were
would be rightly sent to the many. The fact that Greeks agree with
each other when they name objects hardly accounts for their knowledge of
the language, much less their ability to teach it. Naming is far
from being the bulk of speaking a , 89 language,
(Hobbes and Scripture to the contrary notwithstanding ). Not only
is it improper to consider many parts of speech as having the
function of designating things, but even descriptive reference to
the sensible world is only a partial aspect of the use of language.
To mention only a few everyday aspects of language that do not
obviously conform, consider the varied use of commands, metaphors,
fables, poetry and exclamation. To suggest that what constitutes
one's knowledge of a language is to point to objects and use nouns
to name them, would be completely inadequate. It would be so
radically insufficient, in fact, that it could not even account for
its own articulation. Language consists of much more than
statements which correspond to observables in the actual world. But even
were one to restrict one's examination of language to understanding what
words mean, or refer to, one would immediately run into difficulties. All
sorts of words are used in everyday language which demand some measure of
evaluation on the part of the user and the listener. A dog may be pointed
to and called "dog." A more involved judgement is required in
calling it a "wild dog," or "wolf," not to say a
"bad dog." Agreement or disagreement on the use of such terms
does not depend on knowledge of the language as much as on the character
of the thing in question. There are problems even with Socrates'
account of naming. One cannot be certain that the essence of a thing has
been focussed upon by those giving the name to the thing. One might
fasten upon the material, or the form, or yet some other feature of the object.
For example, a piece of petrified wood, or a stone carving of a tree
would significantly complicate Socrates' simple example. It is not at all
clear that the same thing would be pointed to if someone said
"stone." The reader may remember that the prisoners in the cave
of the Republic spend quite a bit of their time naming the shadows on the
wall of the cave ( Republic 515b, 516c). The close connection between
this discussion and that of the Republic is indicated also by the fact
that the objects which cast the shadows in the cave are made of stone and
wood ( Republic 515a.1). People in the cave don't even look at the
objects when they name things. According to the analogy of the cave they
would be the people teaching Alkibiades to speak Greek; they are the
people in actual cities. And what they call "stone" and
"wood" are only an aspect of stone and wood, the shadowy
representations of stone and wood. If the essences of stone and wood,
comparatively simple things, are not denoted by language, one can imagine
in what the agreement might consist in the popular use of words like
"City" and "Man." The question of the relation of a name
to the essential aspect of the thing adds a significant dimension to
the philosophic understanding of the human use of language.
Alkibiades and Socrates seem to be content with this analysis of
naming, however, and Socrates readily proceeds to the next point in the
argument. If one wanted to know not only what a man or a horse (note the
significance of the change from stone and wood) was, but which was a good
runner, the many would not be able to teach that - proof of which is
their disagreement among themselves. Apparently finding this example
insufficient, Socrates adds that should one want to know which men were
healthy and which were diseased, the many would also not be able to teach
that, for they disagree (llle). Notice two features of these
examples that may be of philosophic interest. To begin with, the
respective experts are, first the gymnastics trainer and second, the
physician. In this dialogue, both the gymnastics expert and the doctor
have arguments advanced on their behalf, supporting their claim to be the
proper controllers of, or experts about, the whole body (126a-b, 128c).
As supreme rulers of the technae of the body they have different aspects
of the good condition in mind and consequently might give different
advice (for example on matters of diet). Thereupon one is confronted with
the standard problem of trying to maintain two or more supreme
authorities: which one is really the proper ruler in the event of
conflict. There is yet another aspect of the same problem that is
of some concern to the reader of the First Alkibiades . One might say
that the relation of the body to the soul is a very persuasive issue in
this dialogue, and the suggestion that there are two leaders in matters
of the body causes one to wonder whether there is a corresponding
dual leadership in the soul. Secondly, the reader notices
that the composition of "the many" shifts on the basis of what
is being taught. On the one hand, the doctor fits into "the
many" as being unable to tell the good runner; on the other hand,
when the focus is on health, all but the doctor appear to constitute
"the many." The question of how to understand the make-up
of the many points to a very large issue area in philosophy, namely that
which is popularly termed the 'holism vs. individualism debate,' or more
generally, the question of the composition and character of
groups. What essentially characterizes groups - in particular that politically
indispensible group, "the many?" This issue is not superfluous
to this dialogue, nor to this portion of this dialogue. By placing the
doctor alone against the many (in the second example), one unwittingly
contradicts oneself. Alkibiades and Socrates fall among the ranks of the
Many as well as the Few. Perhaps the most obvious problem
connected with determining the composition of the group, "the
many," is brought into focus when one tries to discover how one
"goes to the many" to learn (llld). There are quite a few
possibilities. Does the opinion of "the many" become the
average (mean) opinion of all the different views prevalent in a city?
Or is it the opinion held by the majority? One might go to each
indi¬ vidual, to each of a variety of representative individuals, or even
to 51% of the individuals in a given place, and then statistically
evaluate their opinions, arriving at one or another form of majority
consensus. Or, one might determine conventional opinion by asking
various indi- 91 viduals what they believe everyone
else believes. There seem to be countless ways of understanding "the
many," each of which allows for quite different outcomes. The
problems for the student of political affairs, as well as for the
aspiring politician, are compounded because the many do not appear to
hold a single view unanimously or unambiguously on many of the important
questions. Regardless of which is the appropriate understanding of
"the many, the reader must at all events remember that "the
many" and "the few" are a perennial political division.
There are, likewise, several ways in which "the few" are
conceived. Some consider them to be the men of wealth, the men of
virtue, the men of intelligence, and so on. Reference to "the
few," however, is rarely so vague as reference to the many, since
people who speak of "the few" are usually aware of which criteria
form the bases of the distinction. Despite the lack of clarity con¬
cerning the division between "the many" and "the few," it
is appealed to, in most regimes as being a fundamental schizm. Most
regimes, it may be ventured, are in fact based either upon the
distinction, or upon trying to remove the distinction, and they appeal to
this division, however vague, to legitimate themselves. At
this point in the discussion of the First Alkibiades (llle), Alkibiades
and Socrates are considering whether the many are capable teachers of
justice. They appear to be making their judgement solely on the basis of
the criterion of agreement. One might stop to consider not only whether
agreement is sufficient to indicate knowledge, but indeed whether it is
even necessary. One cannot simply deny the possi¬ bility that one might
be able to gain knowledge because of disagreements. Profound differences
of opinion might indicate the best way of learning the truth, as, for
example the disagreements among philosophers about justice teaches at the
very least what the important considerations might be. Socrates
continues. Since disagreement among the many indicates that they are not
able to teach (though lack of ability rarely prevents them from trying
anyway, cf. Apology 24c-25a; Gorgias 461c), Socrates asks Alkibiades
whether the many agree about justice and injustice, or if indeed they
don't differ most on those very concerns. People do not 92
fight and kill in battle because they disagree on questions of
health, but when justice is in dispute, Alkibiades has seen the battles.
And if he hasn't seen them (Socrates should know this, after all,
cf. 106e) he has heard of the fights from many, particularly from Homer,
because he's heard the Odyssey and Iliad. Alkibiades' familiarity with
Homer is of great significance. It, along with his knoweldge of Greek,
are probably the two most crucial "oversights" in Socrates'
list of what Alkibiades learned. In fact, they are of such importance
that they overshadow the subjects in which he did take lessons, in terms
of their effect on his character development, his common-sense
understanding, and on his suitability for political office. Homer is an
important source of knowledge and of opinion, and is respons¬ ible for
there being considerable consensus of belief among the Greeks in many
matters. He provides the authoritative interpretation of the gods as well
as of the qualities and actions of great men. If Alkibiades knows Homer
and if he knows that Homer is about justice, then he has learned much more
about justice than one would surmise on the basis of his formal
schooling. Alkibiades agrees with Socrates' remark that the Iliad
and Odyssey are about disagreements about justice and injustice. He also
accepts the interpretation that a difference of opinion about the just
and the unjust caused the battles and deaths of the Akhaians and Trojans;
the dispute between Odysseus and Penelope's suitors; and the deaths and
fights of the Athenians, Spartans and Boiotians at Tanagra and Koroneia.
(One notes that Socrates has blended the fabulous with the actual, and
has chosen, as his non-mythic example, probably the one over which it
is most difficult for Alkibiades to be non-partisan - the battle in
which his father died. This also raises his heritage to the level of the
epic.) The reader need not agree with this interpretation on a number of
counts. Firstly, the central case is noteworthy in that
Socrates interprets Odysseus' strife with the men of Ithaka to be over a
woman, and not primarily the kingdom and palace. It is not at all clear,
more¬ over, that what caused the altercation between Odysseus and the
suitors was a difference of opinion about justice. They might have all
wanted the same thing, but the reaction of the suitors at Odysseus'
return indicates that they didn't feel they were in the right -
they admitted 93 gurlt. Secondly, what is noticeable in Homer
is that only one aspect of the epic is about the dispute about justice
(and also, both Homeric examples involve a conflict between eros and
justice, represented by Helen and Penelope). In the epics the
disagreement among the many refers not to the many of one polis but of
various poleis against each other. Indeed the many of each polis in the
Trojan war agree. These observations foreshadow the discussion that
will presently come to the fore in the dialogue under somewhat different
circumstances. The problem of the difference between the just and the
expedient is a key one in political philosophy, and it is introduced by
the reflection that in a number of instances disagreement does not focus
on what the just solution is, but on who should be the victor, who will
control the thing over which the sides are disputing. Both sides agree
that it would be good to control one thing. More shall be said about this
later in the context of the discussion. Socrates inquires of
Alkibiades whether the people involved in those wars could be said to
understand these questions if they could disagree so strongly as to take
extreme measures. Though he must admit that teachers of that
sort are ignorant, Alkibiades had nevertheless re¬ ferred Socrates to
them. Alkibiades is quite unaware of the nature of justice and injustice
and he also cannot point to a teacher or say when he discovered
them. It thus seems hard to say he has knowledge of them. Alkibiades
agrees that according to what Socrates has said it is not likely that he
knows (112d). Socrates takes this opportunity to teach Alkibiades a most
important lesson. Though apparently a digression, it will mark a pivotal
point in the turning around of Alkibiades that occurs by the middle of
the discussion. Socrates says that Alkibiades' last remark was not
fair ( kalos) because he claimed Socrates said that Alkibiades was
ignorant, whereas actually Alkibiades did. Alkibiades is astounded. Did
he_ say it? Socrates is teaching Alkibiades that the words spoken
in an argument ought indeed to have an effect on one's life, that the
outcomes of argu¬ ments are impersonal yet must be taken seriously, and
that responsibility for what is said rests with both partners in
dialogue. The results of rational speech are to be trusted; reason is a
kind of power necessarily determining things. Alkibiades cannot agree in
speech and then decide, if it is convenient, to dismiss conclusions on
the grounds that it was someone else who said it. Arguments attain much
more significance when they are recognized as one's own. One must learn
they are not merely playthings (cf. Republic 539b). Accepting
responsibility for them and their conclusions is essential. It is
important politically with reference to speech, as well as in the more
generally recognized sense of assuming responsibility for one's actions.
To cite an instance of special importance to this dialogue, who is
responsible for Alkibiades - Perikles? Athens? Socrates? Alkibiades
himself? One can often place responsibility for one's actions on one's
society, one's immediate environment, or one's teachers. Perhaps it is
not so easy to shun responsibility for conclusions of arguments. Most men
desire consistency and at least feel uneasy when they are shown to
be involved in contradictions. In this discussion of who must accept
responsibility for the conclusions of rational discourse, Alkibiades
learns yet another lesson about the power of speech. He has, by his own
tongue, convicted himself of ignorance. Socrates demonstrates
to Alkibiades that if he asks whether one or two is the larger number,
and Alkibiades answers that two is greater by one, it was Alkibiades who
said that two was greater than one. Socrates had asked and Alkibiades had
answered; the answer was the speaker. Similarly, if Socrates should ask
which letters are in "Socrates" and Alkibiades answered,
Alkibiades would be the speaker. On the basis of this the young man
agrees that, as a principle, whenever there is a questioner and an
answerer, the speaker is the answerer. Since so far Socrates had been the
questioner and Alkibiades the answerer, Alkibiades is responsible for
whatever has been uttered. What has been disclosed by now is that
Alkibiades, the noble son of Kleinias, intends to go to the
ekklesia to advise on that of which he knows nothing. Socrates
quotes Euripides - Alkibiades "hear it from 94
[himself] not me." Socrates doesn't pull any punches. Not only
does he refer to an almost incestuous woman to speak of Alkibiades'
condition, but he follows with what must seem a painfully sarcastic form of
address (since it is actually ironic) which the young man would probably
wish to hear from serious lips. Alkibiades, the "best of men,' is
contemplating a mad undertaking in teaching what he has not bothered to
learn. Alkibiades has been hit, but not hard enough for him to
change his mind instead of the topic. He thinks that Athenians and the
other Greeks don't, in fact, deliberate over the justice of a course of
action - they consider that to be more or less obvious - but about
its advantageousness (113d). The just and the advantageous are not the
same, for great in¬ justices have proven advantageous, and sometimes
little advantage has been gained from just action. Socrates announces
that he will challenge Alkibiades' knowledge of what is expedient, even
if he should grant that the just and the advantageous are ever so
distinct (113e). Alkibiades perceives no hindrance to his claiming
to know what is advantageous unless Socrates is again about to ask from
which teacher he learned it or how he discovered it. Hereupon Socrates
remarks that the young man is treating arguments as though they were
clothing which, once worn, is dirtied. Socrates will ignore these notions
of Alkibiades, implying that they involve an incorrect understanding of
philosophic disputation. Alkibiades must be taught that what is ever
correct according to reason remains correct according to reason. Variety
in arguments is not a criterion affecting their rational
consistency. Socrates shall proceed by asking the same question,
intending it to, in effect, ask the whole argument. He claims to be
certain that Alkibiades will find himself in the same difficulty with
this argument. The reader will recognize that Alkibiades is not
likely to en¬ counter precisely the same problems with this new argument.
The nature of the agreement and disagreement by individuals and states
over the matter of usefulness or advantageousness is different than that
concern¬ ing justice. A man may know it would be useful to have
something, or expedient to do something, and also know it to be unjust.
States, too, may agree on something's advantageousness, say controlling
the Hellespont but they may disagree on who should control it. The
conflict in these cases is not the result of a disagreement as to what is
true (e.g., it is true that each country's interests are better served by
control of key sea routes), but it is based precisely on their agreement
about the truth regarding expediency. When states and individuals are
primarily concerned with wealth, then knowing what is useful presents far
fewer problems than knowing what is just. Since Alkibiades is
so squeamish as to dislike the flavor of old arguments, Socrates will
disregard his inability to corroborate his claim to knowledge of the
expedient. Instead he will ask whether the just and the useful are the
same or different. Alkibiades can question Socrates as he had been
questioned, or he can choose whatever form of discourse he likes. As he
feels incapable of convincing Socrates, Alkibiades is invited to imagine
Socrates to be the people of the ekklesia ; even there, where the young
man is eager to speak, he will have to persuade each man singly (114b). A
knowledgeable man can persuade one alone and many together (114b-c). A
writing master is able to persuade either one or many about letters and
likewise an arithmetician in¬ fluences one man or many about
numbers. For quite a few reasons the reader might object to
Socrates' inference from these examples to the arena of politics.
Firstly, they are not the kinds of things discussed in politics, and one
might suspect that the "persuasion" involved is not of the same
variety. Proof of this might be offered in the form of the observation
that the inability to persuade in politics does not necessarily imply the
dull-wittedness of the audience. Strong passions bar the way for reason
in politics like they rarely do in numbers and letters. This leads to the
second objection. Not only is knowledge of grammar and arithmetic
fundamentally different than politics, but they represent extreme
examples in them¬ selves. They correspond to two very diverse criteria of
knowledge both of which have been previously introduced in the dialogue.
The subject matter of letters is decided upon almost exclusively by
agreement; that of numbers is learned most importantly through discovery,
and this does not depend on people's agreement (cf. 112e-113a, 126c; and
106e reminds one that Alkibiades has taken lessons only in one of
these). Presumably, however, if the arithmetician and grammarian
can, then Alkibiades also will be able to persuade one man or many about
that which he knows. Apparently the only difference between the
rhetorician in front of a crowd and a man engaged in dialogue is that the
rhetorician persuades everyone at once, the latter one at a time. Given
that the same man per¬ suades either a multitude or an individual,
Socrates invites Alkibiades to practice on him to show that the just is
not the expedient. (Ironically, there may be no one Alkibiades ever meets
who is further from the multitude). If it weren't for his earlier
statement (109c) where he indicated his recognition of the difference
between private and public speech, it would appear that Alkibiades had
quite a lot to learn before he confronted the ekklesia . One might
readily propose that there is indeed very little similarity between
persuading one and persuading the multitude. In a dialogue one man can
ask questions that reveal the other's ignorance; Socrates does this
to Alkibiades in this dialogue, he might not in public. In a dialogue, there
needn't always be public pressure with which to contend (an important
exception being courtroom dialogue); a public speech, especially one
addressing the ekklesia must yield to or otherwise take into account the
strength of the many. Often when addressing a crowd one only has to
address the influential. At other times one need only appeal to the least
common denominator. There are factors at work in crowds which
affect reactions to a speaker, factors which do not seem to be present in
one-to-one dialogue. When addressing a multitude, a speaker must be aware
of the general feelings and sentiments of the group, and address himself
to them. When in dialogue he can tailor his comments to one man's
specific interests. To convince the individual, however, he will have to
be precisely right in his deduction of the individual's senti¬ ments - in
a crowd a more general understanding is usually sufficient. Mere
hints at a subject will be successful; when addressing a multitude with
regard to a policy, a rhetorician will not be taken to task for every
claim he makes. If his general policy is pleasing to the many, it is
unlikely that they will critically examine all of his reasons for pro¬
posing the policy. Also, when speaking to a crowd, one is not expected to
prove one's technical expertise. An individual may be able to discover
the limits of one's knowledge; a crowd will rarely ask. This whola
analysis, however, is rendered questionable by the ambiguity of the composition
of "the many," discussed above. One could, for example, come
across a very knowledgeable crowd, or a stupid individual and many of the
above observations would not hold. However, the situations most directly
relevant to the dialogue involve rhetoric toward a crowd such as that of
the ekklesia , and thoughtful dialogue between individuals such as
Alkibiades and Socrates. If Alkibiades ever intends to set forth a
plan of action to the Athenians, the adoption of his proposal will depend
on his convincing them in the ekklesia . The ability to persuade the
multitude attains great political significance; and especially in
democracies, a man's ability in speaking is often the foundation of his
power. Once recognized, this power is susceptible to cultivation. Rhetoric,
the art of persuasive speech, is the art which provides the knowledge
requisite to gain effective power over an audience. All political
men are aware of rhetoric; their rhetorical ability to a large
95 extent determines their success or failure. Of course,
there are at least two important qualifications or limits on the power of
even the most persuasive speech. The first limit is knowledge. A man who
knows grammar and arithmetic will not be swayed wrongly about numbers,
when they are used in any of the conventional ways. That an able
rhetorician escape detection in a lie is a necessity if he is to be
successful among those knowledgeable in the topic he addresses.
Presumably those who possess only beliefs about the matter would be more
readily seduced to embrace a false opinion. The second limit
is more troubling. It is the problem of those who simply are not
convinced by argument. They distrust the spoken word. These seem to
fall into three categories. The first is exemplified in the
character of Kallikles in the Gorgias . It primarily includes those
who are unwilling to connect the conclusions of arguments to their
own lives. They may agree to something in argument and, moments
later, do something quite contrary to their conclusions. This
characteristic is well- displayed in Kallikles who, when driven to
a contradiction doesn't even 96 care. He holds two
conflicting opinions and holds them so strongly that he doesn't even care
that they support conclusions that are contrary to reason and yield
contrary results. Kallikles is unwilling to continue discussing with
Socrates ( Gorgias); he does not want to learn from rational speech. He
remains unconvinced by Socrates' argument and by his rhetoric ( Gorgias).
If Socrates is to rule Kallikles, he will need more than reason and
wisdom and beautiful speech ( Gorgias 523a-527e); he will need some kind
of coercive power. Secondly, almost all people have some experience
of those who in¬ consistently maintain in speech what they do not uphold
in deed. This is the most immediate level on which to recognize the
problem of the rela¬ tion of theory to practice. Alkibiades seems to have
this opinion of speech at the beginning of the dialogue, for he can admit
almost anything in speech (106c.2). Two things, however, show that he is
far above it. He implicitly recognizes that the realm of speech is
the realm within which he must confront Socrates, and he has a desire for
consistency. Kallikles is too dogmatic to even recognize his
inconsistency. But when Socrates forces Alkibiades to take responsibility
for all the conclusions they have reached to that point (112e. 5ff.), he
realizes he must have made an error either in his premises or his
argument. This marks the first and major turning around of Alkibiades. He
recognizes that he has said he is ignorant. A third type of
person who is not convinced by rhetoricians is the one who distrusts
argument because he recognizes the skill involved in speaking. Not
because he is indifferent to the compulsion of reason but precisely
because he wants to act according to reason, he desires to be certain of
not being tricked. (Most people are also familiar with the feeling that
something vaguely suspicious is going on in a discussion.) He is
convinced that there are men - e.g., sophists - who are skilled at the
game of question and answer and can make anyone look like a fool.
And so what? He is not at all moved by their victory in speech.
Some¬ thing other than rational speech is needed to convince him. Indeed,
this is one of the most difficult challenges Socrates meets in the
Republic , and indicates a higher level of the theory/practice
relationship. Adeimantos is not convinced by mere words. He has to be
shown that philosophy is useful to the city, among other things (
Republic 487b.1-d.5; 498c.5 ff; 367d.9-e.5; 367b.3; 389a.10). Although he
is distrustful of mere speech, he learns to respect it as a medium
through which to under¬ stand the political. He has the example of
Socrates whose life matches, or is even guided by, his speech. Socrates'
difficulty lies in making the case in speech to this man who does not put
full stock in the con¬ clusions of speech. One must wonder, moreover,
what kinds of deeds will suffice for those others who cannot even view
Socrates. This is the problem faced by all writers who want to reach this
sort of person. Perhaps one might consider very clever speakers
like Plato to be per¬ forming the deed of making the words of a Socrates
appear like the deeds of Socrates, in the speech of the Dialogues. Almost
paradoxically, they must convince through speech that speech isn't
"mere talk." Alkibiades charges Socrates with hybris and
Socrates acknowledges it for the time being, for he intends to prove to
Alkibiades the opposite view, namely that the just is the expedient
(114d). Socrates doesn't deny the charge, or even, as one might expect,
playfully redirect it as might be appropriate; the accusation is made by
a man who, not much later, will be considered hybristic by almost the
entire Athenian public. It is not clear precisely what is hybristic about
Socrates' last remarks. Hybris is a pride or ambition or insolence
inappropriate to men. Perhaps both men are hybristic as charged; in this
instance it is not imperative that they defend themselves for they are
alone. Possibly anyone who seeks total power as does Alkibiades, or
wisdom like Socrates, is too ambitious and too haughty. They would be
vying with the gods to the extent that they challenge civic piety and the
supremacy of the deities of the polis . One wants to rule the universe
like a god, the other to know it like a god. The charge of
hybris has been introduced in the context of persuading through speech.
Allegedly the person who knows will have the power to persuade through
speech. This is itself rather a problematic claim as it implies all
failure to persuade is an indication of ignorance. However questionable
the assertion, though, the connection it recalls between these three
important aspects of man's life - knowledge, power and language - is too
thoroughly elaborated to be mere coincidence. It is very likely that the
reader's understanding of these two exceptional men and the appropriateness
of the charge of hybris will have something to do with language's
relation to knowledge and power. Alkibiades asks Socrates to speak, if he
intends to demonstrate to Alkibiades that the just is not distinct from
the ad¬ vantageous. Not inclined to answer any questions (cf. 106b),
Alkibiades wishes Socrates to speak alone. Socrates, pretending
incredulity, asks if indeed Alkibiades doesn't desire most of all to be
persuaded and Alkibiades, playing along, agrees that he certainly does.
Socrates suggests that the surest indication of persuasion is freely
assenting, and if Alkibiades responds to the questions asked of him, he
will most assuredly hear himself affirm that the just is indeed the
advantageous. Socrates goes so far as to promise Alkibiades that if he
doesn't say it, he never need trust anybody's speech again.
This astonishingly extravagant declaration by Socrates bespeaks
certain knowledge on his part. Socrates implies he is confident of one of
two things. Perhaps he knows that the just is advantageous, or the true
relationship between the two, and thus argues for the proof of the claim
that anyone who knows can persuade. (The immense difficulties with this
have already been suggested.) What is more likely, however, is that he
does not think the just is identical to the advantageous, but he knows he
can win the argument with Alkibiades and drive him to assert whatever
conclusion he wants (that he could in effect make the weaker argument
appear the stronger). If the latter is true, the reader is reminded of
the power of speech and the possible dangers that can arise from its use.
He will also wonder if Socrates is quite right in his proposal that
Alkibiades need never trust anyone's speech if he cannot be made to
agree. It seems to be more indicative of the untrustworthiness of speech
if Alkibiades should agree, not that he refuse to agree. However, the
reader has been placed in the enviable position of being able to judge
for himself, through a careful review of the argument. His personal
participation, to the limit of his ability, is after all the only means
through which he can be certain that he isn't being duped into believing
something instead of knowing it. Alkibiades doubts he will admit
the point, but agrees to comply, confident that no harm will attend his
answers. Whereupon Socrates claims that Alkibiades speaks like a diviner
(cf. 127e, 107b, 117b), and proceeds, presuming to be articulating
Alkibiades' actual opinion. Some just things are advantageous and
some are not (115a). Some just things are noble and some are not. Nothing
can be both base and just, so all just things are noble. Some noble
things might be evil and some base things may be good, for a rescue is
invested with nobility on account of courage, and with evil because of
the deaths and wounds. However, since courage and death are distinct, it
is with respect to separate aspects that the rescue can be said to be
both noble and evil. Insofar as it is noble it is good, and it is noble
because of courage. Cowardice is an evil on par with (or worse than,
115d) death. Courage ranks among the best things and death among the
worst. The rescue is deemed noble because it is the working of good by
courage, and evil because it is the working of evil by death. Things are
evil because of the evil produced and good on account of the good that
results. In as much as a thing is good it is noble and base inasmuch as
it is evil. To designate the rescue as noble but evil is thus to
term it good but evil (116a). In so far as something is noble it is not
evil, and neither is anything good in so far as it is base. Whoever does
nobly does well and whoever does well is happy (116b). People are made
happy through the acquisition of good things. They obtain good things by
doing well and nobly. Accordingly, doing well is good and faring well is
noble. The noble and good are the same. By this argument all that
is noble is good. Good things are expedient (116c) and as has already
been admitted, those who do just things do noble things (115a); those who
do noble things do good things (116a). If good things are expedient then
just things are expedient. As Socrates points out, it is
apparently Alkibiades who has asserted all of this. Since he argues that
the just and the expedient are the same, he could hardly do other than
ridicule anyone who rose up to advise the Athenians or the Peparathians
believing he knew the just and the unjust and claiming that just things
are sometimes evil. Before proceeding, the reader must pause and attempt
to determine the significance of the problem of the just versus the
expedient. No intimate familiarity with the tradition of political
philosophy is re¬ quired in order to observe that the issue is dominant
throughout the tradition/ perhaps most notably among the moderns in the
writings of Machiavelli and Hobbes who linked the question of justice and
expediency to the distinction between serving another's interest and
serving one's own interest. They, and subsequent moderns, in the spirit
of the "Enlightenment," then proceed with the intention of
eradicating the dis¬ tinction. Self-interest, properly understood, is
right and is the proper basis for all human actions. Not only is there a
widespread connection between the issue, the traditional treatment of the
issue, and human action - but the reader might recall that the ancient
philosophers, too, considered it fundamental. One need only realize that
the philosophic work par excellence , Plato's Republic , receives its
impetus from this consideration. The discussion of the best regime
(perhaps the topic of political philosophy) arises because of Glaukon's
challenging reformula¬ tion of Thrasymakhos' opinion that justice is the
advantage of the stronger. Recognition of this fact sufficiently
corroborates the view that this issue warrants careful scrutiny by
serious students of political philosophy. Socrates has chosen this topic
as the one on which to demonstrate the internal conflicts in Alkibiades'
soul. Perhaps that is a subtle indication to the reader as to where he
might focus when he begins the search for self-knowledge, the inevitable
prerequisite for his improvement. Alkibiades swears by all
the gods. He is overwhelmed. Alkibiades protests that he isn't sure he
knows even what he is saying; he continual¬ ly changes his views under
Socrates' questioning. Socrates points out to him that he must be unaware
of what such a condition of perplexity signifies. If someone were to ask
him whether he had two or three eyes, or two or four hands, he would
probably respond consistently because he knows the answer. If he
voluntarily gives contradictory replies, they must concern things about
which he is ignorant. Alkibiades admits it is likely; but there are
probably other reasons why one might give contra¬ dictory answers, just
as one might intentionally appear to err - in speech speech.
Alkibiades' ignorance with regard to justice, injustice, noble,
base, evil and good is the cause of his confusion about them. Whenever a
man does not know a thing, his soul is confused about that thing.
By Zeus (fittingly), Alkibiades concedes he is ignorant of how to
rise into heaven. There is no confusion in his opinion about that simply
because he is aware that he doesn't know. Alkibiades must take his part
in discerning Socrates' meaning. He knows he is ignorant about fancy
cookery, so he doesn't get confused, but entrusts it to a cook.
Similarly when aboard ship he knows he is ignorant of how to steer,
and leaves it to the pilot. Mistakes are made when one thinks one
knows though one doesn't. Otherwise people would leave the job to those
who do know. The ignorant person who knows he is ignorant doesn't
make mistakes (117e). Those who make mistakes are those who think they
know when they don't; those who know act rightly; those who don't, leave
it to others. All this is not precisely true for a number of
reasons. Chance or fortune always plays a part and something unexpected
could interfere in otherwise correctly laid plans. Also, as any honest
politician or general would have to say, sometimes courses of action must
be decided and acted upon, even when one is fully cognizant of one's
partial ignorance. The worst sort of stupidity, Socrates
testifies is the stupidity conjoined with confidence. It is a cause of
evils and the most pernicious evils occur through its involvement with
great matters like the just, the noble, the good and the advantageous.
Alkibiades' bewilderment regarding these momentous matters, coupled with
his ignorance of his very ignorance, imputes to him a rather sorry
condition. Alkibiades admits he is afraid so. Socrates at this
point (118b) makes clear to Alkibiades the nature of his predicament. He
utters an exclamation at the plight of the young man and deigns to give
it a name only because they are alone. Alkibiades, according to his own
confession, is attached to the most shameful kind of stupidity. Perhaps
to contrast Alkibiades' actual condition with what he could be, Socrates
chooses precisely this moment to refer to Alkibiades as "best of
men" (cf. also 113c). With such apparent sarcasm still reverberating
in the background, Socrates intimates that because of this kind of
ignorance he is eager to enter politics before learning of it.
Alkibiades, far from being alone, shares this lot with most politicians
except, perhaps, his guardian Perikies, and a few others. Already
recognized to be obviously a salient feature of the action of the
dialogue, the fact that the two are alone, engaged in a private
conversation, is further stressed here as the reader approaches the
central teaching of the First Alkibiades . Alkibiades has been turned
around and now faces Socrates. They can confide in each other even to the
extent of criticizing all or nearly all of Athens' politicians.
They shall, in the next while, be saying things that most people
should not hear. And at this moment it seems to be for the purpose of naming
Alkibiades' condition that Socrates reminds the reader of their privacy.
A number of possible reasons for the emphasis on privacy in this
regard come to mind. Socrates likely would not choose to call
Alkibiades stupid in front of a crowd. In the first place,
his having just recognized his ignorance makes him far less stupid than
the crowd and it would be inappropriate to have them feel they are better
than he. Alkibiades is by nature a cut above the many, and it would be a
sign of contempt to expose him to ridicule in front of the many. Though
he may be in a sorry condition, he is being compared to another standard
than the populace. Secondly, to expose and make Alkibiades
sensitive to public censure is probably not in his best interests. A
cultivation in most noble youths of the appropriate source of their honor
and dishonor is important. Socrates, by not making Alkibiades feel
mortified in front of the many, is heightening his respect for the
censure of men like Socrates. Without this alternative, the man who seeks
glory is confronted with a paradox of sorts. He wants the love/adoration
of the many, and yet he despises the things they love or adore.
Alkibiades is being shown that the praise of few (and if the principle is
pushed to its limit, eventually the praise of one - oneself, i.e. pride)
is more to be prized. Thirdly, as Socrates explains to Meletus in
his trial ( Apology 26a), when someone does something unintentionally, it
is correct to instruct him privately and not to summon the attention of
the public. Alkibiades is not ignorant on purpose; Socrates should
privately instruct him. It is also probable that Alkibiades will only
accept private criticism which doesn't threaten his status.
And perhaps fourthly, if Socrates were to insult Alkibiades in
public the many would conclude that there was a schizm between them.
Because they are men whose natures are akin, and because of their
(symbolic) representation of politics and philosophy, or power
and knowledge, any differences they have must remain private. It is in
their best interest as well as the interest of the public, that everyone
per¬ ceive the two as being indivisible. And as was observed earlier,
even the wisest politicians must appear perfectly confident of their
knowledge and plans. This is best done if they conceal their private
doubts and display complete trust in their advisors, providing a united
front when facing the many. When Socrates suggests Perikles
is a possible exception, Alkibiades names some of the wise men with whom
Perikles conversed to obtain his wisdom. Those whom he names are
conventionally held to be wise; Alkibiades might not refer to the same
people by the end of this conversation with Socrates. In any event, upon
Alkibiades' mention of the wise men, Socrates insinuates that
Perikles' wisdom may be in doubt. Anybody who is wise in some subject is
able to make another wise in it, just as Alkibiades' writing teacher
taught Alkibiades, and whomever else he wishes, about letters. The person
who learns is also then able to en¬ lighten another man. The same holds
true of the harper and the trainer (but apparently not the flute player,
cf. 106e). The ability to point to one's student and to show his
capability is a fine proof of knowing anything. If Perikles didn't make
either of his sons wise, or Alkibiades' brother (Kleinias the madman)
,why is Alkibiades in his sorry condition? Alkibiades confesses that he
is at fault for not paying attention to Perikles. Still, he swears by the
king of gods that there isn't any Athenian or stranger or slave or
foreman who is said to have become wise through conversation with
Perikles, as various students of sophists have been said to have become
wise and erudite through lessons. Socrates doesn't need to explicate the
conclusion. Instead, he asks Alkibiades what he intends to do.
The conclusion of the argument is never uttered. It is obviously
meant to question Perikles' wisdom, but rather than spell it out, the
topic is abruptly changed. If Perikles were dead, not alive and in power,
piety would not admit of even this much criticism to be levied.
Alkibiades would be expected to defend his uncle against those outside
the family; and all Athenians to defend him against critics from other
poleis . In addition, if this was a public discussion, civic propriety
would demand silence in front of the many concerning one's doubts about
the country's leaders. But since they are indeed alone, and need not
worry about the effects on others of their discussion of Perikles' wisdom,
they might have concluded the argument. The curious reader will likely
examine various reasons for not finishing it. Three possibilities appear
to be somewhat supported by the discussion to this point. One
notices, to begin with, that it would be adequate for the argument, if a
person could be found who was reputed to have gained wisdom from
Perikles. Given that a reputation among the many has not been highly
regarded previously in the dialogue, there seems little need to press
this point in the argument. If a man was said to have been made wise by
Perikles, the criteria by which that judgment would be made seem much
less reliable than the criteria whereby the many evaluate a man's skill
in letters. There is no proof of Perikles' ability to make another wise
in finding someone who is reputed to be wise. Conversely, Perikles may
well have made someone wise who did not also achieve the reputation for
wisdom. A second point in connection with the argument is that the
three subjects mentioned are those in which Alkibiades has had lessons. Alkibiades
has ability in them, yet cannot point to people whom he has made wise in
letters, harping or wrestling. That does not seem sufficient proof that
he is ignorant (thus that his master was ignorant and so on) . It
is also not clear that Alkibiades' teachers could have made any student
whomsoever they wished, wise in these subjects; Perikles 1 sons must have
achieved their reputation as simpletons (118e) from failing at something.
Knowledge cannot require, for proof, that one has successfully taught
someone else. Not all people try to teach what they know. There must be
other proofs of competence, such as winning at wrestling, or pleasing an
audience through harping. Similarly, not having taught someone may not
prove one's ignorance; it may just indicate unwilling and incapable
students. Alkibiades, for example, didn't learn to play the flute.
There is no indication that his teacher was incapable - either of playing
or of teaching. Alkibiades is said to have refused to learn it
becaus e of con¬ siderations of his own. It might also be suggested
that pointing to students doesn't solve the major problem of proving
someone's knowledge. Is it any easier to recognize knowledge in a
student than in a teacher? A third closely connected point is that
some knowledge may be of such significance that the wise man
properly spends his time actively 98 using it (e.g., by
ruling) and not teaching it. Perikles, through ruling, may have made the
Athenians as a whole better off, and perhaps even increased their
knowledge somewhat. Had his son and heirs to his power observed his
example while he was in office, they too might have become wiser. Adding
further endorsement to this notion is the quite reasonable supposition
that some of the things a wise politician knows cannot be taught through
speech but only through example, just as some kinds of knowledge must be
gained by experience. He may communicate his teaching through his example,
or even less obviously, through whatever institutions or customs he
has established or revised. Some subjects
should probably also be kept secret for the state, and some
types of prudential judgement are acquired only be guided
experience. Perikles's very silence, indeed, may be a testimony to
his political wisdom. In response to Socrates' question as to what
Alkibiades will do, the young man suggests that they put their heads
together (119b). This marks the completion of Alkibiades' turning around.
Alkibiades, who began the discussion annoyed and haughty has requested
Socrates' assistance in escaping his predicament. He is ready to accept
Socrates' advice. This locution (of putting their heads together) will be
echoed later by Socrates (124c) and will mark another stage of their
journey together. The central portion of the dialogue, the portion
between the two joinings of their heads, is what shall be taken up
next. Since most of the men who do the work of the polis are
uneducated (119b), Alkibiades presumes he is assured of gaining an easy
victory over them on the basis of his natural qualities. If they were
educated, he would have to take some care with his learning, just as much
training is required to compete with athletes. But they are ignorant
amateurs and should be no challenge. Socrates launches into
an exclamatory derision of this "best of men." What he has just
said is unworthy of the looks and other resources of his. Alkibiades
doesn't know what Socrates means by this and Socrates responds that he is
vexed for Alkibiades and for his love. Alkibiades shouldn't expect this
contest to be with these men here. When Alkibiades inquires with whom his
contest is to be, Socrates asks if that is a question worthy of a man who
considers himself superior. Alkibiades wants to ascertain if Socrates is
suggesting that his contest is not with these men, the politicians of the
polis . This passage is central to the First Alkibiades . The
answer im¬ plicit in Socrates' response I deem to be far more profound
than it might seem to the casual observer. Hopefully the analysis here
will support this judgement and show as well, that this question of the
contest (agon) is a paramount question in Alkibiades' life, in the lives
of all superior men, and in the quest for the good as characterized by
political philosophy. If Alkibiades' ambition is really unworthy of
him, if he thinks he ought to strive only be be as competent as the
Athenians, then Socrates is vexed for his love. Earlier (104e) the reader
was informed that Socrates would have had to put aside his love for
Alkibiades if Alkibiades proved not to have such a high ambition. Thus
Socrates was attracted to Alkibiades' striving nature. He followed the
youth about for so long because Alkibiades' desires for power were
growing. What thus differ¬ entiates Alkibiades from other youths (such as
several of those with whom Socrates is shown in the dialogues, to have
spent time) is that he has more exalted ambitions than they. Should Socrates
come to the con¬ clusion that Alkibiades does not in fact have this
surpassing will for power, the philosopher would be forced to put away
his love for Alkibiades. Now, after some discussion, it seems there is a
possibility that Alkibiades wants only to be as great as other
politicians. Many boys wish this; Alkibiades' eros would not be
outstanding. Were this true, it would indeed be no wonder if Socrates
were vexed for his love. However, it appears that this is just
something Alkibiades has said (119c.3, 9). Socrates' love is not
released, so Alkibiades passes this, the test of Socrates' love. It is at
this point in the dialogue that one can finally discern the character of
the test. The question, really, is what constitutes a high enough
ambition. An athlete must try to find out with whom to train and fight,
for how long, how closely, and at what time (119b; 107d-108b). He
determines all of this himself; he determines, in other words, the extent
of his ambition to improve and care for himself in terms of his contest.
That with whom he fights determines how he prepares himself. The contest
is thus a standard against which to judge his achievement.
The next step appears to be obvious: for the athlete of the soul as
well as the athlete of the body, the question is with whom ought he
contest. Socrates suggests shortly that should Alkibiades' ambition be to
rule Athens, then his contest would rightly be with other rulers, namely
the Spartan kings and the Great King of Persia. Since Socrates apparently
proceeds to compare in some detail the Spartan and Persian princes'
preparations for the contest, the surface impression is that Alkibiades
really must presume his contest to be with the Persians and Spartans. The
reader remembers, however, that Alkibiades would rather die than be
limited to ruling Athens (105b-c). What is the proper contest for someone
who desires to rule the known, civilized world and to have his rule
endure beyond his own lifetime; what is the preparation requisite for
truly great politics? At this point the question of the contest assumes
an added significance. The reference cannot be any actual ruler; the
inquiry has encountered another dimension of complexity. The larger
significance is, it is suspected, connected to the earlier, discussion
about the role of the very concept of the superior man in political
philosophy, particularly in understanding the nature of man. The very
idea that a contest for which one ought to prepare oneself is with
something not actualized by men of the world (at least not in an obvious
sense since it cannot be any actual ruler) poses problems for some views
of human nature. For example, in the opinion of those who believe that
man's "nature" is simply what he actually is, or what is
"out there"; the actual men of the world and their demonstrated
range of possibilities are what indicate the nature of man. On this
view, man's nature, typically is understood to be some kind of
statistical norm. These people will agree that politics is limited by man
and thought about political things is thus limited by man's nature, but
they will not con¬ cede the necessity of looking toward the best
man. The argument to counter this position is importantly epistemo¬
logical. It is almost a surety that any specific individual will deviate
from the norm to some degree, and the difference can only be described as
tending to be higher or lower than, or more or less than, the norm. This
deviation, which is to one side or other of the norm, makes the
individual either better or worse than the norm. Thus individuals, it may
be said, can be arranged hierarchically based on their position relative
to the norm and "the better”. Whenever one tries to account
for an individual's hierarchical position vis a vis the norm, it is done
in terms of circumstances which limit or fail to limit his realization of
his potential. Since no one is satisfied with an explanation of a
deviation such as "that is under¬ standable, 25% of the cases are
higher than normal," some explanation of why this individual stopped
short, or proceeded further than average is called for. 100 The implicit
understanding of the potential, or of the proper/ideal proportions, then,
is what allows for comparison between individuals. By extension, this
understanding of the potential, whether or not it is actualized, is what
provides the ability to judge between regimes or societies. The amount a
polity varies (or its best men, or its average men) from the potential is
the measure of its quality relative to other polities. The explanation of
this variation (geo¬ graphic location, form of regime, economic
dependency, or other standard reasons) will be in terms of factors which
limit it from nearing, or allow it to approach nearer the goal.
As it is not uniformly better to have more and not less the normal
of any characteristic, any consistent judgement of deviation from the
norm must be made in light of the best. Indeed, it usually is, either
explicitly or implicitly. This teleological basis of comparison is the
common-sensical one, the prescientific basis of judgement. When someone
is heard to remark "what a man," one most certainly does not
understand him to be suggesting that the man in question has precisely
normal characteristics. Evaluating education provides a clear and
fitting example of how the potential, not the norm, serves as the
standard for judging. A teacher does not attempt to teach his students to
conform to the norm in literary, or mathematical ability. It would be
ludicrous for him to stop teaching mid-year, say, because the normal
number of his students reached the norm of literacy for their age.
Indeed, education itself can be seen as an attempt to exceed the norm (in
the direction of excellence) and thereby to raise it. That can only be
done if there is a standard other than the norm from which to judge the
norm itself. The superior man understands this. He competes with the
best, not the norm. As a youth he comes to know that a question central
to his ambition, or will for power is that of his proper contest.
The theoretical question of how one knows with whom to compete
is very difficult although it may (for a long time) have a
straightforward practical solution. It is at the interface between the
normally accepted solution and the search for the real answer that
Alkibiades and Socrates find themselves, here in the middle of their
conversation. For most people during part of their lives, and for
many people all of their life, the next step in one's striving, the next
contestant one must face, is relatively easy to establish. Just as a
wrestler pro¬ ceeds naturally from local victory through stages toward
world champion¬ ship, so too does political ambition have ready referents
- up to a point. It is at that point that Alkibiades finds himself now,
no doubt partly with the help of Socrates prodding his ambitions (e.g.,
105b. ff, 105e). What had made it relatively easy to know his contestant
before were the pictures of the best men as Alkibiades understood them,
namely politically successful men, Kyros and Xerxes (much as an
ambitious wrestler usually knows that a world championship title is held
by some¬ one in particular). Alkibiades' path had been guided. Socrates
has chosen to address Alkibiades now, perhaps because Alkibiades'
ambition is high enough that the conventional models no longer suffice.
Alkibiades is at the stage wherein he must discover what the truly best
man is, actual examples have run out. He recognizes that he needs
Socrates' help (119b); no one else has indicated that Alkibiades' contest
might take place beyond the regular sphere of politics, with contestants
other than the actual rulers of the world. But how is he to discover the
best man in order that he may compete? This is the
theoretical question of most significance to man, and could possibly be
solved in a number of ways. Within the confines of the dialogue, however,
this analysis will not move further than to recognize both the question/
and its centrality to political philosophy. 101 To note in passing,
however, there may be many other questions behind that of the best man.
There may, for example, be more than one kind of best man, and a decision
between them may involve looking at a more prior notion of
"best." At any rate, it has been shown that it is apparently no
accident that the central question in a dialogue on the nature of man is
a question by a superior youth as to his proper contest. What is not yet
understood is why a philosophic man's eros is devoted to a youth whose
erotic ambition is for great politics, a will to power over the whole
world. By means of a thinly veiled reference to Athen's Imperial
Navy, over which Alkibiades would later have full powers as commander,
Socrates attempts to illustrate to the youth the importance of choosing
and recog¬ nizing the proper contestants. Supposing, for example,
Alkibiades were intending to pilot a trireme into a sea battle, he would
view being as capable as his fellows merely a necessary qualification. If
he means to act nobly ( kalos ) for himself and his city, he would want
to so far sur¬ pass his fellows as to make them feel only worthy enough
to fight under him, not against him. It doesn't seem fitting for a leader
to be satis¬ fied with being better than his soldiers while neglecting
the scheming and drilling necessary if his focus is the enemy's leaders.
Alkibiades asks to whom Socrates is referring and Socrates responds with another
question. Is Alkibiades unaware that their city often wars with Sparta
and the Great King? If he intends to lead their polis , he'd correctly
suppose his contest was with the Spartan and Persian kings. His
contest is not with the likes of Meidias who retain a slavish nature and
try to run the polis by flattering, not ruling it. If he looks to that
sort for his goal, then indeed he needn't learn what's required for
the greatest contest, or perform what needs exercising, or prepare himself
adequately for a political career. Alkibiades, the best of men, has to
consider the implications of believing that the Spartan generals and the
Persian kings are like all others (i.e., no better than normal). 103
Firstly, one takes more care of oneself if one thinks the opponents
worthy, and no harm is done taking care of oneself. Assuredly that
sufficiently establishes that it is bad to hold the opinion that
they are no better than anyone else. Almost as a second
thought, Socrates turns to another criterion which might indicate
why having a certain opinion is bad - truth (cf. Republic 386c).
There is another reason, he continues, namely that the opinion is
probably false. It is likely that better natures come from
well-born families where they will in the end become virtuous in the
event they are well brought up. The Spartan and Persian kings,
descended from Perseus, the son of Zeus, are to be compared with
Socrates' and Alkibiades' ancestral lines to see if they are inferior.
100 Alkibiades is quick to point out that his goes back to Zeus as well,
and Socrates adds that he comes from Zeus through Daidalos and
Hephaistos, son of Zeus. Since ancestral origin in Zeus won't
qualitatively differentiate the families, Socrates points out that in
both cases - Sparta and Persia - every step in the line was a king,
whereas both Socrates and Alkibiades (and their fathers) are private men.
The royal families seem to win the first round. The homelands of the
various families could be next com¬ pared, but it is likely that Alkibiades'
her itage, which Socrates is able to describe in detail,
would arouse laughter. In ancestry and in birth and breeding, those
people are superior, for, as Alkibiades should have observed, Spartan
kings have their wives guarded so that no one outside the line could
corrupt the queen, and the Persians have such awe for the king that no
one would dare, including the queen. With the conclusion of
Socrates' and Alkibiades' examination of the various ancestries of the
men, and before proceeding to the dis¬ cussions of their births and
nurtures, a brief pause is called for to look at the general problem of
descent and the philosophic significance to have in this
dialogue. References to familial descent are diffused throughout the
First Alkibiades . It begins by calling attention to Alkibiades' ancestry
and five times in the dialogue is he referred to as the son of Kleinias. On
two occasions he is even addressed as the son of Deinomakhe. If that
weren't enough, this dialogue marks one of only two occasions on which
Socrates' mother, the midwife Phainarete, is named (cf. Theaitetos 149a).
The central of the things on which Socrates said Alkibiades prides
himself is his family, and Socrates scrutinizes it at the greatest
length. The sons of Perikles are mentioned, as are other familial
relations such as the brother of Alkibiades. The lineages of the Persian
kings, of the Spartan kings, of Alkibiades and Socrates are probed, and
Socrates reveals that he has bothered to learn and to repeat the details.
The mothers of the Persian kings and Spartan kings are given an important
role in the dialogue, and in general the question of ancestry is
noticeably dominant, warranting the reader's exploration. As
already discussed in the beginning, the reference to Alkibiades' descent
might have philosophic significance in the dialogue. Here again, the
context of the concern about descent is explicitly the consideration of
the natures of men. Better natures usually come from better ancestors (as
long as they also have good nurtures). At the time of birth, an
individual's ancestry is almost the only indication of his nature, the
most important exception being, of course, his sex. But, as suggested by
Socrates' inclusion of the proviso that they be well brought up (120e), a
final account of man's nature must look to ends not only origins, and to
his nurture, not only descent. Nurture ( paideia) is intended to mean a
comprehensive sense of education, including much more than formal school¬
ing; indeed, it suggests virtually everything that affects one's up¬
bringing. The importance of this facet in the development of a man's
nature becomes more obvious when one remembers the different character¬
istics of offspring of the same family (e.g., Kleinias and Alkibiades,
both sons of Kleinias and Deinomakhe, or the sons of Ariston
participating in the Republic ). These suggestions, added to the already
remarked upon importance of nurture in a man's life, mutually support the
contention that nature is to be understood in terms of a fulfilled end
providing a standard for nurture. The nature of man, if it is to be
understood in terms of a telos , his fulfilled potential, must be more
than that which he is born as. An individual's nature, then, is a
function of his descent and his nurture. Often they are supplementary, at
least super¬ ficially; better families being better educated, they are
that much more aware and concerned with the nurture of their offspring.
'Human nature' would be distinguished from any individual's nature in so
far as it obviously does not undergo nurture; but if properly understood,
it pro¬ vides the standard for the nurture of individuals. To the point
of birth, then, ancestry is the decisive feature in a man's nature, and
thus sets limits on his nature. When his life begins, that turns around,
and education and practice become the key foci for a man's
development. After birth a man cannot alter his ancestry, and nurture
assumes its role in shaping his being, his nature. The
issue is addressed in a rather puzzling way by Socrates' claim that
his ancestry goes through Daidalos to Hephaistos, the son of Zeus.
This serves to establish (as authoritatively as in the case of the
others) that he is well-born. It does nothing to counter
Alkibiades' claim that he, like the Persian and Spartan kings, is
descended from Zeus (all of them claiming descent from the king of
the Olympians); in other words, it does not appear to serve a
purpose in the explicit argument and the reader is drawn to wonder
why he says it. Upon examination one discovers that this is not the
regular story. Normally in accounts of the myths, the paternal
heritage of Hephaistos is ambiguous at best . Hesiod relates that
Hephaistos was born from Hera 109 with no consort. Hera
did not mate with a man; Haphaistos had no father. 1 '*’ 0 Socrates
thus descends from a line begun by a woman - the queen of the heavens,
the goddess of marriage and childbirth (cf. Theaitetos 148e-151e; also
157c, 160e-161e, 184b, 210b-c; Statesman 268b). By mentioning Hephaistos
as an ancestor, Socrates is drawing attention to the feminine aspect of
his lineage. An understanding of the feminine is crucial to an account of
human nature. The male/female division is the most fundamental one for
mankind, rendering humans into two groups (cf. Symposium 190d-192d). The
sexes and their attraction to each other provide the most basic
illustration of eros , perhaps man's most powerful (as well as his most
problematic) drive or passion. Other considerations include the female
role in the early nurture of children (Republic 450c) and thus the
certain, if indirect effect of sex on the polls (it is not even necessary
to add the suspicions about a more subtle part for femininity reserved in
the natures of some superior men, the philosophers). Given this, it is
quite possible that Socrates is sug¬ gesting the importance of the
male/female division in his employment of 'descent' as an extended
philosophic metaphor for human nature. A brief digression
concerning Hephaistos and Daidalos may be use¬ ful at this point.
Daidalos was a legendary ingenious craftsman, in¬ ventor and sculptor
(famous for his animate sculptures). He is said to have slain an
apprentice who showed enough promise to threaten Daidalos' supremacy, and
he fled to Krete. In Krete he devised a hollow wooden cow which allowed
the queen to mate with a bull. The offspring was the Minotaur. Daidalos
constructed the famous labyrinth into which select Athenian youths were
led annually, eventually to be devoured by the Minotaur. ^ Daidalos,
however, was suspected of supplying the youth Theseus (soon to become a
great political founder) with a means to exit from the maze and was
jailed with his son Ikaros. A well known legend tells of their flight.
Minos, the Kretan king was eventually killed in his pursuit of
Daidalos. Hephaistos was the divine and remarkably gifted craftsman
of the Olympians, himself one of the twelve major gods. Cast from the
heavens as an infant, Hephaistos remained crippled. He was, as far as can
be told, the only Olympian deity who was not of surpassingly
beautiful physical form. It is interesting that Socrates would claim
descent from him. Hephaistos was noted as a master craftsman and
manufactured many wondrous things for the gods and heroes. His most
remarkable work might have been that of constructing the articles for the
defence of the noted warrior, Akhilleus, the most famous of which was the
shield (Homer, Iliad y XVIII/ 368-617). The next topic
discussed in this, the longest speech in the dialogue, is the nurture of
the Persian youths. Subsequently Socrates discourses about Spartan
and Persian wealth and he considers various possible reactions to
Alkibiades' contest with the young leaders of both countries. The
account Socrates presents raises questions as to his possible
intentions. It is quite likely that Socrates and Xenaphon, who also
gives an account of the nurture of the Persian prince, have more in
mind than mere interesting description. Their interpretations and
presentations of the subject differ too markedly for their purposes to have
been simply to report the way of life in another country. Thus,
rather than worry over matters of historical accuracy, the more
curious features of Socrates' account will be considered, such as the
relative emphasis on wealth over qualities of soul, and the rather
lengthy speculation about the queens', not the kings', regard for their
sons. In pointed contrast to the Athenians, of whose births
the neighbors do not even hear, when the heir to the Persian throne
is born the first festivities take place within the palace and from then
on all of Asia celebrates his birthday. The young child is cared for
by the best of the king's eunuchs, instead of an insignificant nurse,
and he is highly honored for shaping the limbs of the body. Until the
boy is perhaps seven years old, then, his attendant is not a woman who
would provide a motherly kind of care, nor a man who would provide an
example of masculinity and manliness, but a neutered person. The manly
Alkibiades, as well as the reader, might well wonder as to the effect
this would have on the boy, and whether it is the intended effect.
At the age of seven the boys learn to ride horses and commence
to hunt. This physical activity, it seems, continues until the age of
four¬ teen when four of the most esteemed Persians become the boys'
tutors. They represent four of the virtues, being severally wise,
just, temperate, and courageous. The teaching of piety is conducted by
the wisest tutor of the four (which certainly allows for a number of
interesting possi¬ bilities) . He instructs the youth in the religion of
Zoroaster, or in the worship of the gods, and he teaches the boy that
which pertains to a king - certainly an impressive task. The just tutor
teaches him to be completely truthful (122a); the temperate tutor to be
king and free man overall of the pleasures and not to be a slave to
anyone, and the brave tutor trains him to be unafraid, for fear is
slavery. Alkibiades had instead an old (and therefore otherwise
domestically useless) servant to be his tutor. Socrates
suspends discussion of the nurture of Alkibiades' competitors. It would
promise to be a long description and too much of a task (122b). He
professes that what he has already reported should suggest what follows.
Thereby Socrates challenges the reader to examine the manner in which
this seemingly too brief description of nurture at least indicates what a
complete account might entail. This appears to be the point in the
dialogue which provides the most fitting opportunity to explicitly and
comprehensively consider nurture. It has become clear to Socrates and
Alkibiades that the correct nurture is essential to the greatest contest,
and Socrates leaves Alkibiades (and the reader) with the impression that
he regards the Persian nurture to be appropriate. One might thus presume
that an examination of Persian practices would make apparent the more
important philosophical questions about nurture. Socrates had been
specific in noticing the subjects of instruction received by Alkibiades
(106e), and the reader might follow likewise in observing the lessons of
the Persian princes. On the face of it, Socrates provides more detail
regarding this aspect of their nurture than others, so it might be
prudent to begin by reflecting upon the teaching of religion and kingly
things, of truth-telling, of mastering pleasures, and of mastering fears.
Perhaps the Persian system indicates how these virtues are properly seen
as one, or how they are arranged together, for one sus¬ pects that
conflicts might normally arise in their transmission. These subjects are
being taught by separate masters. A consistent nurture demands that they
are all compatible, or that they can agree upon some way of deciding
differences. If the four tutors can all recognize that one of them ought
to command, this would seem to imply that wisdom some¬ how encompasses
all other virtues. In that case, the attendance of the one wise man would
appear to be the most desirable in the education of a young man. The wise
man's possession of the gamut of virtues would supply the prince with a
model of how they properly fit together. With¬ out a recognized
hierarchy, there might be conflicts between the virtues. Indeed, as the
reader has had occasion to observe in an earlier context of the dialogue,
two of the substantive things taught by two different tutors may conflict
strongly. There are times when a king ought not to be honest. The teacher
of justice then would be suggesting things at odds with that which
pertains to a king. How would the boys know which advice to choose,
independently of any other instruction? In addition, Socrates suggests
that the bravest Persian (literally the 'manliest') tells or teaches the
youth to fear nothing, for any fear is slavery. But surely the
expertise of the tutor of courage would seem to consist in his knowing what to
fear and what not to fear. Otherwise the youth would not become
courageous but reckless. Not all fears indicate that one is a slave: any
good man should run out of the way of a herd of stampeding cattle, an
experienced mountain climber is properly wary of crumbling rock, and even
brave swimmers ought to remain well clear of whirlpools. For this to be
taught it appears that the courageous tutor would have to be in agreement
with the tutor of wisdom. These sorts of difficulties seem to be
perennial, and a system of nurture which can overcome them would provide
a fine model, it seems, for education into virtues. If the Persian tutors
could indeed show the virtues to be harmonious, it would be of
considerable benefit to Alkibiades to under¬ stand precisely how it is
accomplished. The question of what is to be taught leads readily to
a considera¬ tion of how to determine who is to teach. The problem of
ascertaining the competence of teachers seems to be a continuing one (as the
reader of this dialogue has several occasions to observe - e.g., llOe,
ff.). But besides their public reputation there is no indication of the
criteria employed in the selection of the Persian tutors. To this point
in the dialogue, two criteria have been acknowledged as establishing
qualifica¬ tion for teaching (or for the knowledge requisite for
teaching). Agree¬ ment between teachers on their subject matter (lllb-c)
is important for determining who is a proper instructor, as is a man's
ability to refer to knowledgeable students (118d). As has already been
indicated, both of these present interesting difficulties. Neither,
however, is clearly or obviously applicable to the Persian situation. The
present king might prove to be the only student to whom they can point
(in which case they may be as old as Zopyros) and he might well be the
only one in a position to agree with them. It is conceivable that some
kinds of knowledge are of such difficulty that one cannot expect too many
people to agree. If the Persians have indeed solved the problems of
choosing tutors, and of reconciling public reputation for virtue with
actual possession of virtue, they have overcome what appears to be a most
persistent diffi¬ culty regarding human nurture. Another
issue which surfaces in Socrates' short account of the Persian
educational system is that of the correct age to begin such nurture.
Education to manhood begins at about the age of puberty for the prince.
If the virtues are not already quite entrenched in his habits or thoughts
(in which latter case he would have needed another source of instruction
besides the tutors - as perhaps one might say the Iliad and Odyssey
provide for Athenian youths such as Alkibiades), it is doubtful that they
could be inculcated at the age of fourteen. Socrates is completely silent
about the Persians' prior education to virtue, dis¬ closing only that
they began riding horses and participating in "the hunt." Since
both of those activities demand some presence of mind, one may presume
that early Persian education was not neglected. This earliest phase of
education is of the utmost importance, however, for if the boy had been a
coward for fourteen years, one might suspect tutoring by a man at that
point would not likely make him manly. And to make temperate a lad
accustomed to indulgence would be exceedingly difficult. Forcibly
restricting his consumption would not have a lasting effect un¬ less
there were some thing to draw upon within the understanding of the boy,
but Socrates supplies Alkibiades with no hint as to what that might be.
Presently the young man will be reminded of Aesop's fables and the
various stories that children hear. If, in order to qualify as
proper nurturing, such activities as children participate in - e.g., music
and gymnastics - ought to be carried out in a certain mode or with
certain rules (cf. Republic 377a-e; 376c-414c), Socrates gives no
indication of their manner here. Unless stories and activities build a
respect for piety and justice, and the like, it is not obvious that the
respect will be developed when someone is in his mid-teens. It would seem
difficult, if not impossible, to erase years of improper musical and
gymnastic education. Socrates remains distressingly silent about so very
much of the Persian (or proper) method of preparing young men for the
great contest. The only one who would care about Alkibiades 1
birth, nurture or education, would be some chance lover he happened to
have, Socrates says in reference to his seemingly unique interest in
Alkibiades' nature (122b). He concludes what was presumably the account
of the education of the Persian princes, intimating that Alkibiades would
be shamed by a comparison of the wealth, luxury, robes and various
refinements of the Persians. It is odd that he would mention such items
in the context immediately following the list of subjects the tutors were
to teach in the education of the soul of the king - including the
complete mastery of all pleasure. It is even more curious that he would
deign to mention these in the context of making Alkibiades sensitive to
what was required for his preparation for his proper contest. The
historical Alkibiades, it seems, would not be so insensitive to these
luxuries as to need reminding of them, and the dialogue to this point has not
given any indica¬ tion that these things of the body are important to the
training Alkibiades needs by way of preparing for politics. The fact that
Socrates expressly asserts that Alkibiades would be ashamed at having
less of those things corroborates the suggestion that more is going on in
this long speech than is obvious at the surface. Briefly, and
in a manner that doesn't appear to make qualities of soul too appealing,
Socrates lists eleven excellences of the Spartans: temperance,
orderliness, readiness, easily contented, great-mindedness,
well-orderedness, manliness, patient endurance, labor loving, contest
loving and honor loving. Socrates neither described these glowingly, nor
explains how the Spartans come to possess them. He merely lists them.
Then, interestingly, he remarks that Alkibiades in comparison is a child
. He does not say that Alkibiades would be ashamed, or that he would
lose, but that he had somehow not yet attained them. Like some children
presumably, he may have the potential to grow into them if they are part
of the best nature. There is no implication, then, that Alkibiades'
nature is fundamentally lacking in any of these virtues, and this is of
special interest to the reader given the more or less general agreement,
even during his lifetime, as to his wantonness. Socrates here suggests
that Alkibiades is like a child with respect to the best
nature. This part of Socrates' speech reveals two possible
alternatives to the Persian education, alternatives compatible with the
acquisition of virtue. A Spartan nurture was successful in giving
Spartans the set of virtues Socrates listed. Since Alkibiades obviously
cannot regain the innocence necessary to benefit from early disciplined
habituation, and since Socrates nevertheless understands him to be able
to grow into virtue in some sense, there must be another way open to him.
This twenty year old "child" has had some early exposure to
virtue, at least through poetry, and perhaps it is through this youthful
persuasion that Socrates will aid him in his education. Indeed Socrates
appeals often to his sense of the honorable and noble - which is related
to virtue even if improperly understood by Alkibiades. As the dialogue
proceeds from this point/ Socrates appears to be importantly concerned
with making Alkibiades virtuous through philosophy. He is trying to
persuade Alkibiades to let his reason rule him in his life, most
importantly in his desire to know himself. Perhaps, on this account, one
might acquire virtue in two ways, a Spartan nurture, for example, and
through philosophy. Again, however, Socrates stops before he has
said everything he might have said, and turns to the subject of wealth.
In fact, Scorates claims that he must not keep silent with regard to
riches if Alkibiades thinks about them at all. Thus, according to
Socrates, not only is it not strange to turn from the soul to wealth, but
it is even appropriate. Socrates must attest to the riches of Spartans,
who in land and slaves and horses and herds far outdo any estate in
Athens, and he most especially needs to report on the wealth of gold and
silver privately held in Lakedaimon. As proof for this assertion, which
certainly runs counter to almost anyone's notion of Spartan life,
Socrates uses a fable within this fabulous story. Socrates
assumes Alkibiades has learned Aesop's fables - somehow - for without
supplying any other details he simply mentions that there are many tracks
of wealth going into Sparta and none coming out. In order to explain
Socrates' otherwise cryptic remarks, the children's fable will be
recounted. Aesop's story concerns an old lion who must eat by his wits
because he can no longer hunt or fight. He lies in a cave pretending to
be ill and when any animals visit him he devours them. A fox eventually
happens by, but seeing through the ruse he remains outside the cave.
When ths lion asks why he doesn't come in, the fox responds that he sees
too many tracks entering the cave and none leaving it. The
lion and the fox represent the classic confrontation between power and
knowledge. 114 One notices that in the fable the animals generally
believe an opinion that proves to be a fatal mistake. The fox doesn't. He
avoids the error. The implication is that Socrates and Alkibiades have
avoided an important mistake that the rest of the Greeks have made. One
can only speculate on what it is precisely. They seem to be the only ones
aware of one of Sparta's qualities, a quality which, oddly, is in some
sense essential to Alkibiades' contest. Perhaps Socrates' use of the
fable merely suggests that erroneous opinions about the nature of one's
true contestant may prove fatal, but there may be more to it than that.
This fable fittingly appears in the broad context of nurture; myths
and fables are generally recognized for their pedagogic value. Any
metaphoric connection this fable brings to mind with the more famous
Allegory of the Cave in Plato's Republic will necessarily be speculative. But
they are not altogether out of place. The cave, in a sense,
represents the condition of most people's nurtures and thus represents
a fitting setting for a fable related in this dialogue. Given
Socrates' fears of what will happen to Alkibiades (132a, 135e) and
Alkibiades' own concern for the demos , the suggested image of people
(otherwise fit enough to be outside) being enticed into the cave and
unable to leave it might be appropriate. At any rate, in
terms of the argument for Sparta's wealth, this evidence does nothing to
show that the wealth is privately held. It is apparent, after all, that
the evidence indicates gold is pouring into Spsi’ts. from all over
Greece, but not coining' out of the country, whereas Socrates seems to
interpret this as private, not public wealth. Perhaps the reader may
infer from this that a difference between city and man is being subtly
implied. Socrates is suggesting that wealth is an important part of the
contest, and yet he includes himself in the contest at a number of
points. This rather inconclusive and ambiguous reference to the wealth of
Sparta and the Spartans might suggest that the difference between the
city and man regarding riches, may be that great wealth is good for a
city (for example, as Thucydides observes, wealth facilitates warmaking),
and is thus something a ruler should know how to acquire - but not so
good for an individual. Socrates' next statement supports this
interpretation. A king's being wealthy might not mean that he uses it
privately. Socrates informs Alkibiades that the king possesses the most
wealth of any Spartans for there is a special tribute to him (123a- b) .
In any case, however great the Spartan fortunes appear compared with the fortunes
of other Greeks, they are a mere pittance next to the Persian king's
treasures. Socrates was told this himself by a trustworthy person who
gathered his information by travelling and finding out what the local
inhabitants said. Socrates treats this as valuable information, yet
which, given his chosen way of life, he couldn't have acquired
firsthand. Large tracts of land are reserved for adorning the
Persian queen with clothes, individual items having land specially set
aside for them. There were fertile regions known as the "king's
wife's girdle," veil, etc.Certainly an indication of wealth, it also
seems to suggest a wanton luxury, especially on the part of women (and
which men flatter with gifts). Returning to the supposed
contest between Alkibiades and the Spartan and the Persian kings, Socrates
adopts a very curious framework for the bulk of the remainder of this
discourse. He continues in terms of the thoughts of the mother of the
king and proceeds as though she were, in part, in a dialogue with
Alkibiades 1 mother, Deinomakhe. If she found out that the son of
Deinomakhe was challenging her son, the king's mother, Amestris, would
wonder on what Alkibiades could be trusting. The manner in which Socrates
has the challenge introduced to Amestris does not reveal either of the
men's names. Only their mothers are referred to - and the cost of the
mothers' apparel seems to be as important to the challenge or contest as
the size of the sons' estates. Only after he is told that the barbarian
queen is wondering does the reader find out that her son's name is
Artaxerxes and that she is aware that it is Alkibiades who is
challenging her son. She might well have been completely ignorant of the
existence of Deinomakhe's family, or she may have thought it was
Kleinias, the madman (118e), who was the son involved. Since there is no
contest with regards to wealth - either in land or clothing - Alkibiades
must be relying on his industry and wisdom - the only thing the Greeks
have of any worth. Perhaps because she is a barbarian, or because
of some inability on her part, or maybe some subtlety of the Greeks, she
doesn't recognize the Greeks' speaking ability as one of their greatest
accomplishments. Indeed, both in the dialogue and historically, it was
his speaking ability on which Alkibiades was to concentrate much of his
effort, and through which he achieved many of his triumphs. Greeks in
general and Athenians in particular spent much time cultivating the art
of speaking. Sophists and rhetoricians abounded. Rhapsodists and actors
took part in the many dramatic festivals at Athens. Orators and
politicians addressed crowds of people almost daily Cor so it
seems). Socrates continues. If she were to be informed (with
reference to Alkibiades' wisdom and industriousness) that he was not yet
twenty, and was utterly uneducated, and further, was quite satisfied with
himself and re¬ fused his lover's suggestion to learn, take care of
himself and exercise his habits before he entered a contest with the
king, she would again be full of wonder. She would ask to what the youth
could appeal and would conclude Socrates and Alkibiades (and Deinomakhe)
were mad if they thought he could contend with her son in beauty ( kalos
), stature, birth, wealth, and the nature of his soul (123e). The last
quality, the nature of the soul, has the most direct bearing on the theme
of the dialogue, and as the reader remembers, is the promised but not
previously included part of the list of reasons for Alkibiades' high
opinion of himself (104a. ff.). Since it is also the most difficult to
evaluate, one might reasonably wonder what authority Amestris' judgement
commands. It is feasible for the reader to suspect that this is simply
Socrates' reminder that a mother generally favors her own son. But
perhaps her position and experience as wife and mother to kings enables
her in some sense to judge souls. Lampido, another woman, the
daughter, wife and mother of three different kings, would also wonder,
Socrates proposes, at Alkibiades' desire to contest with her son, despite
his comparatively ignoble ( kakos ) upbringing. Socrates closes the
discussion with the mothers of kings by asking Alkibiades if it is not
shameful that the mothers and wives (literally, "the women belonging
to the kings ) of their enemies have a better notion than they of the
qualities necessary for a person who wants to contend with
them. The problem of understanding human nature includes centrally
the problem of understanding sex and the differences between men and
women. Thus political philosophy necessarily addresses these matters.
Half of a polity is made up of women and the correct ordering of a polity
re¬ quires that women, as well as men, do what is appropriate.
However, discovering the truth about the sexes is not simple in any
event, partly at least because of one's exclusion from personal knowledge
about the other sex; and it has become an arduous task to gather honest
opinions from which to begin reflecting. The discussion of
women in this central portion of the dialogue is invested with political
significance by what is explored later re¬ garding the respective tasks
of men and women (e.g., 126e-127b). Before proceeding to study the rest
of this long speech, it may be useful to briefly sketch two problem
areas. Firstly the outline of some of the range of philosophic
alternatives presented by mankind's division into two sexes will be
roughly traced out. This will foreshadow the later discussion of the work
appropriate to the sexes. Secondly, a suggestion shall be ventured as to
one aspect of how 'wonder' and philosophy may be properly understood to
have a feminine element - an aspect that is con¬ nected to a very
important theme of this dialogue. Thus, in order to dispel some of
the confusion before returning to the dialogue, the division of the sexes
may imply, in terms of an understanding of human nature, that there is
either one ideal that both sexes strive towards, or there is more than
one. If there is one goal or end, it might be either the 'feminine,' the
'masculine, a combina¬ tion of the traits of both sexes, or a
transcendent "humanness" that rises above sexuality. The first
may be dismissed unless one is willing to posit that everything is
"out-of-whack" in nature and all the wrong people have
been doing great human deeds. Traditionally, the dominant opinion has
implicitly been that the characteristics of 'human' are for the most part
those called 'masculine', or that males typically embody these
characteristics to a greater extent. Should this be correct, then one may
be warranted in considering nature simply "unfair" in making
half of the people significantly weaker and less able to attain those
character¬ istics. Should the single ideal for both sexes be a
combination of the characteristics of both sexes, still other
difficulties arise. A normal understanding of masculine and feminine
refers to traits that are quite distinct; those who most combine the
traits, or strike a mean, appear to be those who are most sexually
confused. The other possibility mentioned was that there be two (or
more) sets of characteristics - one for man and one for woman. The
difficulty with this alternative is unlike the difficulties encountered
in the one- model proposal. One problem with having an ideal for each
sex, or even with identifying some human characteristics more with one
sex than the other, is that all of the philosophic questions regarding
the fitting place of each sex still remain to be considered.
Some version of this latter alternative seems to be endorsed later
in the First Alkibiades (126e-127b). There it is agreed £md agreement
frequently is the most easily met of the suggested possible criteria of
knowledge mentioned in the dialogue) that there are separate jobs for men
and women. Accordingly, men and women are said to be rightly unable to
understand each other's jobs and thus cannot agree on matters sur¬
rounding those jobs. One of the implications of this, however,
unmentioned by either Socrates or Alkibiades, is that women therefore
ought not to nurture young sons. A woman does not and cannot grasp what
it is to be a man and to have manly virtue. Thus they cannot raise manly
boys. However, this is contrary to common sense. One would think that if
there was any task for which a woman should be suited (even if it demands
more care than is often believed) it would be motherhood. Because of this
a mother would have to learn a man's business if she would bear great
sons. At this point the problems of the surface account of the First
Alkibiades become apparent to even the least reflective reader.
If it is the same task, or if the same body of knowledge (or
opinion) is necessary for being a great man as for raising a great man,
then at least in one case the subjects of study for men and women are not
exclusive. Women dominate the young lives of children. They must be able
to turn a boy's ambitions and desires in the proper direction until the
menfolk take over. Since it would pose practical problems for her to
attempt to do so in deed, she must proceed primarily through speech, in¬
cluding judicious praise and blame, and that is why the fables and myths
women relate ought to be of great concern to the men (cf. for example.
Republic 377b-c). If, on the other hand, it requires completely differ¬
ent knowledge to raise great sons than it does to be great men, then men,
by the argument of the dialogue should not expect to know women's work.
If this is the proper philosophic conclusion the reader is to reach,
then it is not so obviously disgraceful for the womenfolk to know better
than Socrates and Alkibiades what it takes to enter the contest (124a).
The disgrace, it seems, would consist in being unable to see the contra¬
dictions in the surface account of the First Alkibiades , and thus not
being in a position to accept its invitation to delve deeper into
the problem of human nature. At this point a speculation may
be ventured as to why, in this dialogue, wonder takes on a feminine
expression, and why elsewhere. Philosophy herself is described as
feiminine Ce.g., Republic 495-b-c, 536c, 495e; Gorgias 482a; cf.
also Letter VII 328e, Republic 499c-d, 548b-c, 607b). One might say
that a woman's secretiveness enhances her seductiveness. Women are
concerned with appearance (cf. 123c; the very apparel of the
mothers of great sons is catalogued) . Philosophy and women may be more
alluring when disclosure ("disclothesure") of their innermost
selves requires a certain persistence on the part of their suitors.
Philosophy in its most beguiling expression is woman-like. When
subtle and hidden, its mystery enhances its attractiveness. Perhaps it
will be suggested - perhaps for great men to be drawn to philosophy she
must adopt a feminine mode of expression, in addition to the promise of a
greater power; if viewed as a goddess she must be veiled, not wholly
naked. To further explore the analogue in terms of expression, one
notices that women are cautious of themselves and protective of their
own. They are aware, and often pass this awareness on to men that in some
circles they must be addressed or adorned in a certain manner in order to
avoid ridicule and appear respectable. As well, a woman's protection of
her young is expected. Philosophy, properly expressed, should be careful
to avoid harming the innocent; and a truly political philosopher should
be protective of those who will not benefit from knowing the truth. If
the truth is disruptive to the community, for example, he should be
most reluctant to announce it publicly. The liberal notion that every
truth is to be shared by all might be seen to defeminize philosophy.
Women, too in speech will lie and dissemble to protect their own; in deed,
they are more courageous in retreat, able to bear the loss of much in
order to ensure the integrity of that of which they are certain is of
most im¬ portance . Political philosophy is not only
philosophy about politics; it is doing (or at least expressing) all of
one's philosophizing in a politic way. Its expression would be
"feminine." This suggestion at least appears to square with the
role of women in the dialogue. It accounts for the mothers' lively concern
over the welfare and status of the power¬ ful; it provides a possible
understanding of how the 'masculine' and 'feminine' may have
complementary tasks; it connects the female to 'wonder'; it lets the
reader see the enormous significance of speech to politics; it reminds
one of the power of eros as a factor in philosophy, in politics, in
Socrates' attraction to Alkibiades, and in man's attraction to
philosophy; it helps to explain why both lines of descent, the maternal
as well as the paternal, are emphasized in the cases of the man coveting
power and the man seeking knowledge. Through the very ex¬ pression of
either, politics and philosophy become interconnected. Socrates
addresses Alkibiades as a blessed man and tells him to attend him and the
Delphic inscription, "know thyself." These people (presumably
Socrates is referring to the enemy, with whose wives they were speaking;
however, the analysis has indicated why the referent is left ambiguous:
there is a deeper sense of 'contest' here than war with Persians and
Spartans) are Socrates' and Alkibiades' competitors, not those whom
Alkibiades thinks. Only industriousness and techne will give them
ascendancy over their real competitors. Alkibiades will fail in achieving
a reputation among Greeks and barbarians if he lacks those qualities. And
Socrates can see that Alkibiades desires that reputation more than anyone
else ever loved anything. The reader may have noticed that the two
qualities Socrates men¬ tions are very similar to the qualities of the
Greeks mentioned by the barbarian queen above. Socrates is implicitly
raising the Greeks above the barbarians by making the Greek qualities the
most important, and he diminishes the significance of their victory in
terms of wealth and land. He thus simultaneously indicts them on
two counts. They do not recognize that Alkibiades is their big challenge,
sothey are in the disgraceful condition of which Alkibiades was accused,
namely not having an eye to their enemies but to their fellows. By
raising the Greek virtues above the barbarian qualities, Socrates
throws yet more doubt on the view that they are indeed the proper
contestants for Alkibiades. It is interesting that the barbarian queen
knew or believed these were the Greek's qualities but she did not
correctly estimate their importance. Another wonderful feature of
this longest speech in the First Alkibiades is the last line: "I
believe you are more desirous of it than anyone else is of
anything," (124b). Socrates ascribes to Alkibiades an extreme eros .
It may even be a stranger erotic attraction or will to power than that
marked by Socrates' eros for Alkibiades. But the philosopher wants to
help and is able to see Alkibiades' will. Socrates even includes himself
in the contest. Socrates is indeed a curious man. So ends the
longest speech in the dialogue. Alkibiades agrees. He wants that.
Socrates' speech seems very true. Alkibiades has been impressed with
Socrates' big thoughts about politics, for Socrates had indicated that he
is familiar enough with the greatest foreign political powers to make
plausible/credible his implicit is* orf or explicit criticism of them. Socrates
has also tacitly approved of Alkibiades 1 ambitions to rule not only
Athens, but an empire over the known world. Alkibiades must be impressed
with this sentiment in democratic Athens. In addition to all this,
Socrates has hinted to the youth that there is something yet bigger.
Alkibiades requests Socrates' assistance and will do whatever Socrates
wants. He begs to know what is the proper care he must take of
himself. Socrates echoes Alkibiades' sentiment that they must put
their heads together (124c; cf. 119b). This is an off-quoted line
from Homer's 119 Iliad. In the Iliad the decision had been made-
that information must be attained from and about the Trojans by
spying on their camp. The brave warrior, Diomedes, volunteered to go, and
asked the wily Odysseus to accompany him. Two heads were better than one
and the best wits of all the Greek heroes were the wits of Odysseus. Diomedes
recognized this and suggested they put their heads together as they
proceed to trail the enemy to their camp, enter it and hunt for
information necessary to an Akhaian victory. Needless to say,
the parallels between the Homeric account, the situation between
Alkibiades and Socrates, and the Aesopian fable, are intriguing. When
Alkibiades uttered these lines previously, it was appropriate in that he
requested the philosopher (the cunning man) to go with him. Alkibiades
and Socrates, like Diomedes and Odysseus, must enter the camp of the
enemy to see what they were up against in this contest of contests, so to
speak. Alkibiades, assuming the role of Diomedes, in a sense initiated
the foray although an older, wiser man had supplied the occasion for it.
Alkibiades had to be made to request Socrates' assistance. The part of
the dialogue following Alkibiades's quoting of Homer was a discussion of the
contest of the superior man and ostensibly an examination of the elements
of the contest. They thoroughly examined the enemy in an attempt to
understand the very nature of this most important challenge.
This time, however, the wilier one (Socrates/Odysseus) is asking
Alkibiades/Diomedes to join heads with him. The first use of the quote
served to establish the importance of its link to power and knowledge.
The second mention of the quote is perhaps intended to point to a
con¬ sideration of the interconnectedness of power and knowledge. In what
way do power and knowledge need each other? What draws Socrates and
Alkibiades together? The modern reader, unlike the Athenian
reader, might find an example from Plato more helpful than one from
Homer. Some of the elements of the relationship are vividly displayed
in the drama of the opening passages of the Republic . The
messenger boy runs between the many strong and the few 120 ...
wise. His role is similar to that of the auxiliary class of the
dialogue but is substantively reversed. Although he is the
go-between who carries the orders of one group to the other and has the
ability to use physical means to execute those orders (he causes Socrates
literally to "turn around," and he takes hold of Socrates'
cloak), he is carrying orders from those fit to be ruled to those fit to
rule. What is es¬ pecially interesting is the significance of these
opening lines for the themes of the First Alkibiades . The first speaker
in the Republic pro¬ vides the connection between the powerful and the
wise . And he speaks to effect their halt. There has to be a compromise
between those who know but are fewer in number, and those who are
stronger and more numer¬ ous but are unwise. The slave introduces
the problem of the competing claims to rule despite the fact that he has
been conventionally stripped of his. Polemarkhos, on behalf
of the many (which includes a son of Ariston) uses number and strength as
his claims over the actions of Socrates and Glaukon. Socrates suggests
that speech opens up one other possibility. Perhaps the Few could persuade
the Many. He does not sug¬ gest that the many use speech to persuade the
few to remain (although this is what in fact happens when Adeimantos
appeals to the novelty of a torch race). Polemarkhos asks "could you
really persuade if we don't listen?" and by that he indicates a
limit to the power of speech. Later in the dialogue it is
interesting that the two potential rulers of the evening's discussion,
Thrasymakhos and Socrates, seem to fight it out with words or at least
have a contest. The general problem of the proper relation between
strength and wisdom might be helpfully illuminated by close examination
of examples such as those drawn from the Republic , the Iliad and Aesop's
fable. In any event, Socrates and Alkibiades must again join heads.
Pre¬ sumably, the reader may infer, the examination of the Spartans and
Persians was insufficient. (That was suspected from the outset because
Alkibiades would rather die than be limited to Athens. Sparta and Persia
would be the proper contestants for someone intending only to rule
Europe.) Per¬ haps they will now set out to discover the real enemy, the
true contestant. The remainder of the dialogue, in a sense, is a
discussion of how to com¬ bat ignorance of oneself. One might suggest
that this is, in a crucial sense, the enemy of which Alkibiades is as yet
not fully aware. Socrates, by switching his position with
Alkibiades vis-a-vis the guote, reminds the reader that Odysseus was no
slouch at courage and that Diomedes was no fool. It also foreshadows the
switch in their roles made explicit at the end of the dialogue. But even
more importantly, Socrates tells Alkibiades that he is in the same
position as Alkibiades. He needs to take proper care of himself too, and
requires education. His case is identical to Alkibiades' except in one
respect. Alkibiades' guardian Perikles is not as good as Socrates'
guardian god, who until now guarded Socrates against talking with
Alkibiades. Trusting his guardian, Socrates is led to say that Alkibiades
will not be able to achieve his ambitions except through Socrates.
This rather enigmatic passage of the First Alkibiades (124c) seems
to reveal yet another aspect of the relation between knowledge and power.
If language is central to understanding knowledge and power, it is thus
instructive about the essential difference, if there is one, between men
who want power and men who want knowledge. Socrates says that his
guardian (presumably the daimon or god, 103a-b, 105e), who would not let
him waste words (105e) is essentially what makes his case different than
that of Alkibiades. In response to Alkibiades' question, Socrates only
emphasizes that his guardian is better than Perikles, Alkibiades'
guardian, possibly because it kept him silent until this day. Is Socrates
perhaps essentially different from Alkibiades because he knows when to be
silent? The reader is aware that according to most people, Socrates and
Alkibiades would seem to differ on all important grounds. Their looks,
family, wealth and various other features of their lives are in marked
contrast. Socrates, however, disregards them totally, and fastens his
attention on his guardian. And the only thing the reader knows about his
guardian is that it affects Socrates' speech. Socrates claims that
because he trusts in the god he is able to say (he does not sense
opposition to his saying) that Alkibiades needs Socrates. To this
Alkibiades retorts that Socrates is jesting or playing like a
child. Not only may one wonder what is being referred to as a 121
jest, but one notices that Socrates surprisingly acknowledges that
maybe he is. He asserts, at any rate, he is speaking truly when he
re¬ marks that they need to take care of themselves - all men do, but
they in particular must. Socrates thereby firmly situates himself
and Alkibiades above the common lot of men. He also implies that the
higher, not the lower, is deserving of extra care. Needless to say, the
notion that more effort is to be spent on making the best men even better
is quite at odds with modern liberal views. Alkibiades
agrees, recognizing the need on his part, and Socrates joins in fearing
he also requires care. The answer for the comrades demands that there be
no giving up or softening on their part. It would not befit them to
relinquish any determination. They desire to become as accomplished as
possible in the virtue that is the aim of men who are good in managing
affairs. Were one concerned with affairs of horseman¬ ship, one would
apply to horsemen, just as if one should mean nautical affairs one would
address a seaman. With which men's business are they concerned, queries
Socrates. Alkibiades responds assured that it is the affairs of the
gentlemen ( kalos kai agathos) to whom they must attend, and these are
clearly the intelligent rather than the unintelligent. Everyone is
good only in that of which he has intelligence (125a). While the
shoemaker is good at the manufacture of shoes, he is bad at the making of
clothing. However, on that account the same man is both bad and good and
one cannot uphold that the good man is at the same time bad (but cf.
116a). Alkibiades must clarify whom he means by the good man. By altering
the emphasis of the discussion to specific intelligence or skills,
Socrates has effectively prevented Alkibiades from answering
"gentlemen" again, even if he would think that the affairs of
gentlemen in democracies are the affairs with which a good ruler should
be concerned. Given his purported ambitions, it is understandable
that Alkibiades thinks good men are those with the power to rule in a
polis (125b). Since there are a variety of subjects over which to rule,
or hold power, Socrates wants to clarify that it is men and not, for
example, horses, to which Alkibiades refers. Socrates undoubtedly knew
that Alkibiades meant men instead of horses; the pestiness of the
question attracts the attention of the reader and he is reminded of the
famous analogy of the city made by Socrates in the Apology . Therein, the
city is likened to a great horse ( Apology 30e). It would thus not be
wholly inappropriate to interpret this bizarre question in a manner
which, though not apparent to Alkibiades, would provide a perhaps more
meaning¬ ful analysis. Socrates might be asking Alkibiades if he intends
to rule a city or to rule men (in a city). It is not altogether out of
place to adopt the analogy here; corroborating support is given by the
very subtle philosophic distinctions involved later in distinguishing
ruling cities from ruling men (cf. 133e). For example, cities are not
erotic, whereas men are; cities can attain self-sufficiency, whereas men
cannot. It does not demand excessive reflection to see how erotic
striving and the interdependency of men affects the issues of ruling
them. What is good for a man, too, may differ from what is good for a
city (as mentioned above with reference to wealth), and in some cases may
even be incompatible with it. These are all issues which demand the
consideration of rulers and political thinkers. Additional endorsement
for the suitability of the analogy between city and man for interpreting
this passage, is provided by Socrates in his very next statement. He asks
if Alkibiades means ruling over sick men (125b). Earlier (107b-c) the two
had been dis¬ cussing what qualified someone to give advice about a sick
city. Alkibiades doesn't mean good rule to be ruling men at sea
or while they are harvesting (though generalship and farming, or defence
and agriculture, are essential to a city). He also doesn't conclude that
good rule is useful for men who are doing nothing (as Polemarkhos is
driven to conclude that justice is useful for things that are not in use
- Republic 333c-e). In a sense Alkibiades is right. Rulers rule men when
they are doing things such as transacting business, and making use of
each other and whatever makes up a political life (125c). But rule in a
precise, but inclusive, sense is also rule over men when they are inactive.
The thoughts and very dreams are ruled by the true rulers, who have
con¬ trolled or understood all the influences upon men.
Socrates fastens onto one of these and tries to find out what kind
of rule Alkibiades means by ruling over men who make use of men.
Alkibiades does not mean the pilot's virtue of ruling over mariners
who make use of rowers, nor does he mean the chorus teacher who
rules flute 122 players who lead singers and employ
dancers; Alkibiades means ruling men who share life as fellow citizens
and conduct business. Socrates in¬ quires as to which techne gives that
ability as the pilot's techne gives the ability to rule fellow sailors,
and the chorus teacher's ability to rule fellow singers. At this point
the attentive reader notices that Socrates has slightly altered the
example. He has introduced an element of equality. When the consideration
of the polis was made explicit, the pilot and chorus teacher became
"fellows" -"fellow sailors" and "fellow singers."
This serves at least to suggest that citizenship in the polis is an
equalizing element in political life. To consider oneself a fellow
citizen with another implies a kind of fraternity and equality that draws
people together. Despite, say, the existence of differences within the
city, people who are fellow citizens often are closer to each other than
they are to outsiders who may otherwise be more similar. There is
another sense in which Socrates' shift to calling each expert a
"fellow" illuminates something about the city. This is dis¬
covered when one wonders why Socrates employed two examples - the chorus
teacher and the pilot. One reason for using more than a single
example is that there is more than one point to illustrate. It is then up
to the reader to scrutinize the examples to see how they importantly
differ. The onus is on the reader, and this is a tactic used often in the
dialogues. Someone is much more likely to reflect upon something he
discovered than some¬ thing that is unearthed for him. One important
distinction between these two technae is that a pilot is a "fellow
sailor" in a way that the chorus teacher is not a "fellow
singer." Even in the event a pilot shares in none of the work of the
crew rules (as the chorus teacher need not actually sing), if the ship
sinks, he sinks with it. So too does the ruler of a city fall when his
city falls. This is merely one aspect of the analogy of the
ship-of-state, but it suffices to remind one that the ruler of a polity
must identify with the polity, perhaps even to the ex¬ tent that he sees
the fate of the polity as his fate (cf. Republic 412d). Perhaps
more importantly, there is a distinction between the chorus master and
the pilot which significantly illuminates the task of political rule. A
pilot directs sailors doing a variety of tasks that make sailing possible#
whereas the chorus master directed singers per¬ forming in unison .
Perhaps political rule is properly understood as in¬ volving both.
Alkibiades suggests that the techne of the ruler (the fellow-
citizen) is good counsel# but as the pilot gives good not evil counsel
for the preservation of his passengers, Socrates tries to find out what
end the good counsel of the ruler serves. Alkibiades proposed that the
good counsel is for the better management and preservation of the polis
(126a). In the next stage of the discussion Socrates makes a number
of moves that affect the outcome of the argument but he doesn't make a
point of explicating them to Alkibiades. Socrates asks what it is that
becomes present or absent with better management and preservation . He
suggests that if Alkibiades were to ask him the same question with
respect to the body, Socrates would reply that health became present and
disease absent. That is not sufficient. He pretends Alkibiades would ask
what happened in a better condition of the eyes# and he would reply that
sight came and blindness went. So too deafness and hearing are absent and
present when ears are improved and getting better treatment . Socrates
would like Alkibiades# now# to answer as to what happens when a state is
improved and has better treatment and management . Alkibiades thinks that
friend¬ ship will be present and hatred and faction will be absent.
From the simple preservation of the passangers of a ship# Socrates
has moved to preservation and better management# to improved and getting
better treatment# to improvement, better treatment and management. Simple
preservation# of course# is only good (and the goal of an appropriate
techne) when the condition of a thing is pronounced to be
satisfactory, such that any change would be for the worse. In a ship the
pilot only has to preserve the lives of his passengers by his techne , he
does not have to either make lives or improve them. In so far as a city
is in¬ volved with more than mere life, but is aiming at the good life,
mere preservation of the citizens is not sufficient. Socrates' subtle
trans¬ formation indicates the treatment necessary in politics. Another
point that Socrates has implicitly raised is the hierarchy of technae .
This may be quite important to an understanding of politics and what it
can properly order within its domain. Socrates employs the examples of
the body and the eyes (126a-b). The eyes are, however, a part of the
body. The body cannot be said to be healthy unless its parts, including
the eyes, are healthy; the eyes will not see well in a generally diseased
body. The two do interrelate, but have essentially different virtues. The
virtue of the eyes and thus the techne attached to that virtue, are
under/within the domain of the body and its virtue, health. The
doctor, then, has an art of a different order than the optometrist. (The
doctor and his techne may have competition for the care of the body; the
gymnastics expert has already been met and he certainly has things to say
about the management of the body - cf. 128c but the principle there would
be a comprehensive techne .) Given the example of the relation of the parts
to the whole, perhaps Socrates is suggesting that there is an analogue in
the city: the health of the whole city and the sight of a part of the
city. The reader is curious if the same relation would hold as to which
techne had the natural priority over the other. Would the interests of
the whole rule the interests of a part of the city? Socrates'
examples of the body and the part of the body could, in yet another
manner, lead toward contemplation of the political. There is a possible
connection between all three. The doctor might well have to decide to
sacrifice the sight of an eye in the interests of the whole body. Perhaps
the ruler (the man possessing the political techne) would have to decide
to sacrifice the health (or even life) of individuals (may¬ be even ones
as important as the "eyes" of the city) for the well-being of
the polis . Thus, analogously# the political art properly rules the
various technae of the body. Earlier the reader had occasion to be
introduced to a system of hierarchies (108c-e). Therein he found that harping
was ruled by music and wrestling by gymnastics. Gymnastics, as the techne
of the body, is, it is suggested, ruled by politics. Perhaps music should
also be ruled by politics. In the Republic , gymnastics is to the body
roughly what music is to the soul. Both, however, are directed by
politics and are a major concern of political men. It is fortunate for
Alkibiades that he is familiar with harping and gymnastics (106e), so
that as a politician he will be able to advise on their proper performance.
One already has reason to suspect that the other subject in which
Alkibiades took lessons is properly under the domain of politics.
Alkibiades believes that the better management of a state will
bring friendship into it and remove hatred and faction. Socrates in¬
quires if he means agreement or disagreement by friendship. Alkibiades
replies that agreement is meant, but one must notice that this sig¬
nificantly reduces the area of concern to which Alkibiades had given
voice. He had mentioned two kinds of strife, and one needn t think long
and hard to notice that friendship normally connotes much more than
agreement. Socrates next asks which techne causes states to agree about
numbers; does the same art, arithmetic, cause individuals to agree among
each other and with themselves. In addition to whatever suspicion
one entertains that this is not the kind of agreement Alkibiades meant
when he thought friendship would be brought into a city with better
management/ one must keep in mind the similarity between this and an
earlier argument (111c). In almost the same words, people agreed
"with others or by them¬ selves" and states agreed, with regard
to speaking Greek, or more pre¬ cisely, with naming. There are two features
of this argument which should be explored. Firstly, one might reflect
upon whether agreement between states is always essentially similar to
agreement between people, or agreement with oneself. People can fool
themselves and they can possess their own "language." Separate states
may have separate weights and measures, say, but individuals within a
state must agree. Secondly, there may be more than one kind of agreement
with which the reader should be concerned in this dialogue. This might be
most apparent were there different factors which compelled different
people, in different circum¬ stances, to agree. Men sometimes arrive at
the same conclusions through different reasons. The first two
examples employed by Socrates illuminate both of these points. Arithmetic
and mensuration are about as far apart as it is possible to be in terms
of the nature of the agreement. Mensuration is simply convention or
agreement, and yet its entire existence depends on people's knowing the
standards agreed upon. Numbers, on the contrary, need absolutely no
agreement (except linguistically in the names given to numbers) and no
amount of agreement can change what they are and their relation to each
other. The third example represents the type of agreement much
closer to that with which it is believed conventional politics is
permeated. It is the example of the scales — long symbolic of justice.
Agreement with people and states about weights on scales depends on a
number of factors, as does judgement about politics. There is something
empirical to observe, namely the action as well as the various weights;
there is a constant possibility of cheating (on one side or another)
against which they must take guard; there is a judgement to be made which
is often close, difficult and of crucial importance, and there is the
general problem of which side of the scale/polity is to receive the
goods, and what is the standard against which the goods are measured. To
spell out only one politically important aspect of this last factor,
consider the difference between deciding that a certain standard of life
is to pro¬ vide the measure for the distribution of goods, and deciding
that a certain set of goods are to be distributed evenly without such a
standard. In one case the well off would receive no goods, they being the
standard; in the other case all would supposedly have an equal chance of
receiving goods. Other political factors are involved in determining what
should be weighed, what its value is, who should preside over the
weighing, and what kind of scale is to be used. The third example, the
scales, surely appears to be more pertinent to Socrates and Alkibiades
than either of the other two, although one notices that both arithmetic
and mensuration are involved in weighing. Alkibiades is
requested to make a spirited effort to tell Socrates what the agreement
is, the art which achieves it, and whether all parties agree the same
way. Alkibiades supposes it is the friendship of father and mother to child,
brother to brother and woman to man (126e). A good ruler would be able to
make the people feel like a family - their fellow citizens like fellow
kin. This seems to be a sound opinion of Alkibiades; many actual cities
are structured around families or clans or based on legends of common
ancestry (cf. Republic 414c-415d) . There is a complication, however,
which is not addressed by either participant in the dialogue. Socrates
had suggested three parts to the analysis of agreement - its nature, the
art that achieves it, and whether all agree in the same way. Alkibiades
in his response suggests three types of friendship which may differ
dramatically in all of the respects Socrates had mentioned. And the
political significance of the three kinds of friendship also has different
and very far-reaching effects. Consider the different ties, and feelings
that characterize man-woman relation¬ ships. And imagine the different
character of a regime that is patterned not on the parent-child relation,
but instead characterized by male-female attraction! In a
dialogue on the nature of man in which there is already support for the
notion that "descent" and "family" figure prominently
in the analysis of man's nature, it seems likely that the three kinds
of familial (or potentially familial) relationships mentioned here would
be worthy of close and serious reflection. Socrates, however, does not
take Alkibiades to task on this, but turns to an examination of the
notion that friendship is agreement, and the question of whether or not
they can exist in a polis . Socrates had himself suggested that
Alkibiades meant agreement by friendship (126c), and in this argument
that restricted sense of friendship plays a significant role in their
arriving at the unpalatable conclusion. The argument leads to the
assertion that friendship and agreement cannot arise in a state where
each person does his own business. asks Alkibiades if a
man can agree with a woman about wool—working when he doesn't have
knowledge of it and she does. And further, does he have any need to
agree, since it is a woman's accomplishment? A woman, too, could not come to
agreement with a man about soldiering if she didn't learn it - and it is
a business for men. There are some parts of knowledge appropriate to
women and some to men on this account (127a) and in those skills there is
no agreement between men and women and hence no friendship - if
friendship is agreement. Thus men and women are not befriended by each
other so far as they are per¬ forming their own jobs, and polities are
not well-ordered if each person does his own business (127b). This
conclusion is unacceptable to Alkibiades; he thinks a well-ordered polity
is one abounding in friend¬ ship, but also that it is precisely each
party doing his own business that brings such friendship into being.
Socrates points out that this goes against the argument. He asks if
Alkibiades means friendship can occur without agreement, or that
agreement in something may arise when some have knowledge while others do
not. These are presumably the steps in the argument which are susceptible
to attack. Socrates incidentally provides another opening in the argument
that could show the conclusion to be wrong. He points out that justice is
the doing of one's own work and that justice and friendship are tied
together. But Alkibiades, per¬ haps remembering his shame (109b-116d),
does not pursue this angle, having learned that the topic of justice is
difficult. In order to determine what, if anything, was wrongly said,
various stages of the argument will now be examined. By
beginning with the consideration of why anyone would suppose a state was
well-ordered when each person did his own business, one observes that
otherwise every individual would argue about everything done by
everybody. The reader may well share Alkibiades suspicion that what makes
a state well-ordered is that each does what he is capable of and trusts
the others to do the same. This indicates, perhaps, the major problems
with the discussion between Socrates and Alkibiades. Firstly, there are
many ways that friendship depends less upon agreement than on the lack of
serious disagreement. Secondly, agreement can occur, or be taken for
granted, in a number of ways other than by both parties having
knowledge. As revealed earlier in the dialogue, Alkibiades would
readily trust an expert in steering a ship as well as in fancy cooking
(117c-d). Regardless of whether it was a man's or a woman’s task, he
would agree with the expert because of his skill. In these instances he
agreed precisely because he had no knowledge and they did. Of course,
faith in expertise may be misplaced, or experts may lose perspective in
under¬ standing the position of their techne relative to others. But though
concord and well-ordered polities do not necessarily arise when people
trust in expertise, friendship and agreement can come about through each
man's doing his own business. Agreement between people, thus, may
come about when one recognizes his ignorance. It may also arise through
their holding similar opinion on the issue, or when one holds an opinion
compatible with knowledge possessed by another. For example, a woman may
merely have opinions about soldiering, but those opinions may allow for
agreement with men, who alone can have knowledge. Soldiering is a man's
work, but while men are at war the women may wonder about what they are
doing, or read stories about the war, or form opinions from talking to
other soldiers' wives, or have confidence in what their soldier—husbands
tell them. There is also a sense in which, if war is business for
men, women don't even need opinions about how it is conducted for they
are not on the battlefield. They need only agree on its importance and
they need not even necessarily agree on why it is important (unless they
are raising sons). Women will often agree with men about waging war on
grounds other than the men's. For example, glory isn't a prime motivator
for most women's complying with their husbands' desires to wage war. It
has been suggested that agreement may arise on the basis of opinion and
not knowledge, and further that opinions need not be similar, merely
com¬ patible. As long as the war is agreed to by both sexes, friendship
will be in evidence regardless of their respective views of the motives
of war. Apathy or some other type of disregard for certain kinds of
work may also eliminate disagreement and discord, provided that it isn't
a result of lack of respect for the person's profession. For example,
a man and a woman might never disagree about wool-working He may not
care how a spindle operates and would not think of interfering. And
he certainly wouldn't have to be skilled at the techne of wool-working
to agree with his wife whenever she voiced her views - his agreement
with her would rest on his approval of the resulting coat.
Socrates has not obtained from Alkibiades' speech the power to
learn what the nature of the friendship is that good men must have.
Alkibiades, invoking all the gods (he cannot be sure who has dominion
over the branch of knowledge he is trying to identify), fears that he
doesn't even know what he says, and has for some time been in a very
disgraceful condition. But Socrates reminds him that this is the cor¬
rect time for Alkibiades to perceive his condition, not at the age of
fifty, for then it would be difficult to take the proper care. In answer¬
ing Alkibiades' question as to what he should do now that he is aware of
his condition, Socrates replies he need only answer the questions
Socrates puts to him. With the favor of the god (if they can trust in
Socrates' divination - cf. 107b, 115a) both of them shall be
improved. What Socrates may have just implied is that while
Alkibiades' speech is unable to supply the power to even name the
qualities of a good man, Socratic speech in itself has the power to
actually make them better. All Alkibiades must do is respond to the
questions Socrates asks. The proper use of language, it is suggested, has
the power to make good men. One may object that speech cannot have that
effect upon a listener who is not in a condition of recognizing his
ignorance, but one must also recog¬ nize that speech has the power to
bring men to that realization. Almost half of the First Alkibiades is
overtly devoted to this task. Indeed it seems unlikely that people
perceive their plight except through some form of the human use of
language except when they are visually able to com¬ pare themselves to
others. It would be difficult to physically coerce men into perceiving
their condition. An emotional attempt to draw a person's awarness - such
as a mother's tears at her son's plight - needs speech to direct it; the
son must learn what has upset her. Speech is also necessary to point to
an example of a person who has come to a realization of his ignorance.
Socrates or someone like him, might discern his condition by himself, but
even he surely spent a great deal of time conversing with others to see
that their confidence in their opinions was unfounded. In any event, what
is important for the under¬ standing of the First Alkibiades is that
Socrates has succeeded in con¬ vincing Alkibiades that thoughtful
dialogue is more imperative for him at this point than Athenian
politics. Together they set out to discover (cf. 109e) what is
required to take proper care of oneself; in the event that they have
never previously done so, they will assume complete ignorance. For
example, perhaps one takes care of oneself while taking care of one's
things (128a). They are not sure but Socrates will agree with Alkibiades
at the end of the argu¬ ment that taking proper care of one's belongings
is an art different from care of oneself (128d). But perhaps one should
survey the entire argu¬ ment before commenting upon it.
Alkibiades doesn't understand the first question as to whether a
man takes care of feet when he takes care of what belongs to his feet, so
Socrates explains by pointing out that there are things which belong to
the hand. A ring, for example, belongs to nothing but a finger. So too a
shoe belongs to a foot and clothes to the body. Alkibiades still doesn't
understand what it means to say that taking care of shoes is taking care
of feet, so Socrates employs another fact. One may speak of taking
correct care of this or that thing, and taking proper care makes
something better. The art of shoemaking makes shoes better and it is by
that art that we take care of shoes. But it is by the art of making feet
better, not by shoemaking, that we improve feet. That art is the same art
whereby the whole body is improved, namely gymnastic. Gymnastic
takes care of the foot; shoemaking takes care of what belongs to the
foot. Gymnastic takes care of the hand; ring engraving takes care of what
belongs to the hand. Gymnastic takes care of the body; weaving and other
crafts take care of what belongs to the body. Thus taking care of a
thing and taking care of its belongings involve separate arts. Socrates
repeats this conclusion after suggesting that care of one's
belongings does not mean one takes care of oneself. Further support
is here recognized, in this dialogue, for a hierarchical arrangement of
the technae , but that simultaneously somewhat qualifies the conclusion of
the argument. Gymnastic is the art of taking care of the body and
it thus must weave into a pattern all of the arts of taking care of
the belongings of the body and of its parts. Its very control over
those arts, however, indicates that they are of some importance to
the body. Because they have a common superior goal, the taking care
of the body, they are not as separate as the argument would
suggest. Just as shoes in bad repair can harm feet, shoes well made
may improve feet (cf. 121d, for shaping the body). They are often
made in view of the health or beauty of the body as are clothes and
rings. Because things which surround one affect one, as one's
activities and one's reliance on some sorts of possessions affect
one, proper care for the be- 123 longings of the body
may improve one's body. Socrates continues. Even if one cannot yet
ascertain which art takes care of oneself, one can say that it is not an
art concerned with improving one's belongings, but one that makes one
better. Further, just as one couldn't have known the art that improves
shoes or rings if one didn't know a shoe or a ring, so it is impossible
that one should know the techna that makes one better if one doesn't know
oneself (124a). Socrates asks if it is easy to know oneself and that
therefore the writer at Delphi was not profound, or if it is a difficult
thing and not for everybody. Alkibiades replies that it seems sometimes
easy and sometimes hard. Thereupon Socrates suggests that regardless of
its ease or difficulty, knowledge of oneself is necessary in order to
know what the proper care of oneself is. It may be inferred from this
that most people do not know themselves and are not in a position to know
what the proper care of themselves is. They might be better off should
they adopt the opinions of those who know, or be cared for by those who
know more. In order to understand themselves, the two men must find out
how, generally, the 'self' of a thing can be seen (129b),
Alkibiades figures Socrates has spoken correctly about the way to
proceed, but instead of 124 thus proceeding, Socrates
interrupts in the name of Zeus and asks whether Alkibiades is talking to
Socrates and Socrates to Alkibiades. Indeed they are. Thus Socrates says,
he is the talker and Alkibiades the hearer. This is a thoroughly baffling
interruption, for not only is its purpose unclear, but it is
contradictory. They have just agreed that both were talking.
Socrates pushes onward. Socrates uses speech in talking (one
suspects that most people do). Talking and using speech are the same
thing, but the user and the thing he uses are not the same thing. A
shoemaker who cuts uses tools, but is himself quite different from a
tool; so also is a harper not the same as what he uses when harping.
The shoemaker uses not only tools but his hands and his eyes, so,
if the user and the thing used are different, then the shoemaker and
harper are different from the hands and eyes they use. So too, since man
uses his whole body, he must be different from his body. Man must be the
user of the body, and it is the soul which uses and rules the body. No
one, he claims, can disagree with the remark that man is one of three
things. Alkibiades may or may not disagree, but he needs a bit of
clarification. Man must be soul, or body, or both as one whole. Al¬
ready admitted is the proposition that it is man that rules the body, and
the argument has shown that the body is ruled by something else, so the
body deesn't rule itself. What remains is the soul. The unlikeliest
thing in the world is the combination of both, gQQj-^-(- 0 g suggests
(130b) , for if one of the combined ones was said not to share in the
rule, then the two obviously could not rule. It is not necessary to point
out to the reader that the possibility of a body's share in the rule was
never denied, nor to indicate that what Socrates ostensibly
regards as the unlikeliest thing of all, is what it seems most reasonable
to suspect to be very like the truth. Emotions and appetites, so closely
connected with the body, are a dominant and dominating part of one's
life. They account for a major part of people's lives, and even to a
large extent influence their reason (a faculty which most agree is not
tied to the body in the same way). The soul might be seen to be at least
partly ruled by the body if it is appetites and emotions which affect
whether or not reason is used and influence what kind of decisions will
be rationally determined. Anyhow, according to Socrates, if it is
not the body, or the com¬ bined body and soul, then man must either be
nothing at all, or he must be the soul (130c). But the reader is aware
that only on the briefest of glances does this square with "the
statement that no one could dissent to," (cf. 130a). Man cannot be
'nothing' according to that statement any more than he can be anything
else whatsoever, such as 'dog,' 'gold,' 'dream,' etc. 'Nothing' was not
one of the alternatives. Alkibiades swears that he needs no clearer
proof that the soul is man, and ruler of the body, but Socrates,
overruling the authority of Alkibiades' oath, responds that the proof is
merely tolerable, sufficing only until they discover that which they have
just passed by because of its complexity. Unaware that anything had been
by-passed (Socrates had interrupted that part of the discussion with his
first conventional oath - 129b), the puzzled Alkibiades asks Socrates. He
receives the reply that they haven't been considering what generally
makes the self of a thing discoverable, but have been looking at
particular cases (130d; cf. 129b). Perhaps that will suffice, for the
soul surely must be said to have a more absolute possession of us than
anything else. So, whenever Alkibiades and Socrates converse with
each other, it is soul conversing with soul; the souls using words
(130d.l). Socrates, when he uses speech, talks with Alkibiades' soul, not
his face. Socratic speech is thus essentially different from the speech
of the crowds of suitors who conversed with Alkibiades (103a, cf. also
106b). If Socrates' soul talks with Alkibiades' soul and if Alkibiades is
truly listening, then it is Alkibiades' soul, not one of his belongings
that hears Socrates (cf. 129b-c). Someone who says "know
thyself" (cf. 124a, 129a) means "know thy soul"; knowing
the things that belong to the body means knowing what is his, but not
what he is. The reader will note how the last two steps of the
argument subtly, yet definitely, indicate the ambiguous nature of the
body's position in this analysis. Someone who knows only the belongings
of the body will not know the man. According to the argument proper,
someone who knew the body, too, would still only know a man's
possessions, not his being. Socrates continues, pressing the
argument to show that no doctor or trainer, insofar as he is a doctor or
a trainer, knows himself. Farmers and tradesmen are still more
remote, for their arts teach only what belongs to the body (which is
itself only a possession of the man) and not the man (131a). Indeed, most
people recognize a man by his body, not by his soul, which reveals his
true nature. 126 gocrates pauses briefly to introduce
consideration of a virtue. Seemingly out of the blue, he remarks that
"if knowing oneself is temperance" then no craftsman is
temperate by his te c h ne (131b). Because of this the good man disdains
to learn the technae . This sudden intro¬ duction of the virtue/ defining
temperance as self-knowledge/ will assume importance later in the
dialogue (e.g., at 133c). Returning to the argument, Socrates
proposes that one who cares for the body cares for his possessions. One
who cares for his money cares not for himself, nor for his possessions,
but for something yet more remote. He has ceased to do his own
business. Those who love Alkibiades' body don't love Alkibiades but
his possessions. The real lover is the one who loves his soul. The
one who loves the body would depart when the body's bloom is over,
whereas the lover of the soul remains as long as it still tends to the
better. Socrates is the one that remained; the others left when the bloom
of the body was over. Silently accepting this insult to his looks, one of
his possessions, Alkibiades recognizes the compliment paid to himself.
The account of the cause of Socrates' remaining and the others'
departure, however, has changed somewhat from the beginning CIO3b, 104c).
Then the lovers left because a quality of Alkibiades' soul was too much
for them (but not for Socrates) to handle. Now it is a decline in a
quality of the body that apparently caused them to depart, but it is
still an appreciation of the soul that retains Socrates' interest.
Perhaps the significance of this basic shift is to indicate to
Alkibiades the true justification for his self-esteem. His highminded¬
ness was based on his physical qualities and their possessions, not on
his soul. Socrates may be insulting the other lovers, but he is at the same
time making it difficult for Alkibiades to lose his pride in the things
of the body. Thus Socrates' reinterpretation of the reasons for the
lovers' departure reinforces the point of the argument, namely that one's
soul is more worthy of attention and consideration than one's body.
Alkibiades is glad that Socrates has stayed and wants him to re¬
main. He shall, at Socrates' request, endeavour to remain as handsome
as he can. So Alkibiades, the son of Kleinias, "has only one lover
and 128 that a cherished one," Socrates, son of
Sophroniskos and Phainarite. Now Alkibiades knows why Socrates
alone did not depart. He loves Alkibiades, not merely what belongs to
Alkibiades (131e). Socrates will never forsake Alkibiades as long
as he (his soul) is not deformed by the Athenian people. In fact that is
what especially concerns Socrates. His greatest fear is that Alkibiades
will be damaged through becoming a lover of the demos - it has happened
to many good Athenians. The face (not the soul?) of the "people of
great-hearted Erekhtheos" is fair, but to see the demos stripped is
another thing. As the dialogue approaches its end, Socrates becomes
poetic in his utter¬ ances. On this occasion he prophetically quotes
Homer ( Iliad II, 547). When listing the participants on the Akhaian side
of the Trojan War, Homer describes the leader of the Athenians, the
"people of the great¬ hearted Erekhtheos," as one like no other
born on earth for the arrange¬ ment and ordering of horses and fighters.
Alkibiades would become famous for his attempts to order poleis and his
arranging of naval military forces. In the Gorgias, Scorates
relates a myth about the final judgement of men, and one of the
interesting features of the story is that the judges and those to be
judged are stripped of clothes and bodies ( Gorgias 523a-527e). 129 All
that is judged is the soul. This allows the judges to perceive the
reality beneath the appearance that a body and its belong¬ ings provide.
Flatterers (120b) would not be as able to get to the Blessed Isles/ although
actually, in political regimes, living judges are often fooled by
appearances. Judges too are stripped so that they could see soul to soul
(133b; cf. Gorgias 523d), and would be less likely to be moved by
rhetoric, poetry, physical beauty or any other of the elements that are
tied to the body through, for example, the emotions and appetites. It
seems thus good advice for anyone who desires to enter politics that he
get a stripped view of the demos . In addition, those familiar with the
myth in the Gorgias might recognize the importance of Alkibiades
stripping himself, and coming to know his own soul, before he enters
politics. Socrates is advising Alkibiades to take the proper
precautions. He is to exercise seriously, learning all that must be known
prior to an entry into politics (132b). Presumably this knowledge will
counteract the charm of the people. Alkibiades wants to know what the
proper exer¬ cises are, and Socrates says they have established one
important thing and that is knowing what to take care of. They will not
inadvertently be caring for something else, such as, for example,
something that only be¬ longs to them. The next step, now that they know
upon what to exercise, is to care for the soul and leave the care of the
body and its possessions to others. If they could discover
how to obtain knowledge of the soul, they would truly "know
themselves." For the third time Socrates refers to the Delphic
inscription (132c; 124a, 129a) and he claims he has discovered another interpretation
of it which he can illustrate only by the example of sight. Should
someone say "see thyself" to one's eye, the eye would have to
look at something, like a mirror, or the thing in the eye that is like a
mirror (132d-e). The pupil of the eye reflects the face of the person
looking into it like a mirror. Looking at anything else (except mirrors,
water, polished shields, etc.) won't reflect it. Just as the eye must
look into another eye to see itself, so must a soul look into another
soul. In addition it must look to that very part of the soul which houses
the virtue of a soul - wisdom - and any part like wisdom (133b; cf.
131b). The part of the soul containing knowledge and thought is the most
divine, and since it thus resembles god, whoever sees it will recognize
all that is divine and will get the greatest knowledge of himself.
In order to see one's own soul properly, then, Socrates suggests
that it is necessary to look into another's soul. Alkibiades must look
into someone's soul to obtain knowledge of himself, and he must possess
knowledge of himself in order to be able to rule himself. This last is a
prerequisite for ruling others. Since it lacks a 'pupil,' the soul
doesn't have a readily available window/mirror for observing another's
soul, as the eye does for observing oneself through another's eye. Such
vision of souls can only be had through speech. Through honest dialogue
with trusted friends and reflection upon what was said and done, one may
gain a glimpse of their soul. The souls must be "stripped" so
that words are spoken and heard truly. Socrates, by being the only lover
who remained, and, having shown his value to Alkibiades, will continue
to speak (104e, 105e). He is offering Alkibiades a look at his
soul. This is in keeping, it appears, with the advice that
Alkibiades look to the rational part of the soul. Socrates is the picture
of the rational man; through his speech the reader is also offered the
oppor¬ tunity to try to see into Socrates' soul to better understand his
own. Again, as discussed above, a man's nature can be understood by
looking to the example of the best, even if it is only an imitation of the
best in Dialogues. Socrates now recalls the earlier mention
of temperance as though they had come to some conclusion regarding the
nature of the virtue. They had supposedly agreed that
self-knowledge was temperance (133c; cf. 131b). Lacking self-knowledge or
temperance, one could not know one's belongings, whether they be good or
evil. Without knowing Alkibiades one could not know if his belongings are
his. Ignorance of one's be¬ longings prohibits familiarity with the
belongings of belongings (133d). Socrates reminds Alkibiades that they
have been incorrect in admitting people could know their belongings if
they didn't know themselves (133d-e). This latter argument raises
at least two difficulties. Firstly, it renders problematic the suggestion
that one should leave one's body and belongings in another's care (132c).
These others, it seems, would be doctors and gymnastics trainers - the
only experts of the body ex¬ plicitly recognized in the dialogue.
Remembering that neither doctor or trainer knows himself (131a), one
might wonder how he can know Socrates' and Alkibiades' belongings. He
cannot, according to the argument here (133c-d) know his own belongings
without knowing himself and he cannot be familiar with others' belongings
while ignorant of his own. The argument, secondly, creates a
problem with the understanding heretofore suggested about how men
generally conduct their lives. Most people do not know themselves and do
not properly care for themselves. The argument of the dialogue has
intimated that they in fact care for their belongings. Thus it would seem
that, in some sense, they do know their belongings, just as Alkibiades'
lovers, ignorant of Alkibiades and probably ignorant of themselves, still
know that Alkibiades' body belonged to Alkibiades. And they knew, like he
knew C104a-c) that his looks and his wealth belong to his body. The
reader might conclude from this that the precise knowledge they do not
have is knowledge either of what the belongings should be like, or what
their true importance and proper role in a man's life should be. Knowledge
of one's soul would consist, partly, in knowing how to properly handle
one's belongings. That allows one to do what is right, and not
merely do what one likes. It is the task of one man and one techne
(the chief techne in the hierarchy) to grasp himself, his belongings, and
their belongings. Some¬ one who doesn't know his belongings won't know
other mens'. And if he doesn't know theirs, he won't know those of the
polity. This last remark raises the consideration of what
constitutes the belongings of a polity. And that immediately involves one
in reflection upon whether the city has a body, and a soul. What is the
essence of the city? The reader is invited to explore the analogy to the
man, but even more, it is suggested that he is to reflect upon how to establish
the priority of one over the other. This invitation is indicated by the
dis¬ cussion of the one techne that presides over all the bodies and
belong¬ ings. The relation of the city to the individual man has been
of perennial concern to political thinkers, and a most difficult aspect
of the problem terrain involves the very understanding of the City and
Man (cf. 125b). The question is multiplied threefold with the
possibility that an adequate understanding of the city requires an
account of its soul, its body and its body's belongings. An account of
man, it has been suggested in this dialogue, demands knowing his soul,
body, possessions, and the relation and ordering of each. It is
quite possible that what is proper best for a man will
conflict with what is best for a city. The city might be considered best
off if it promotes an average well-being. Having its norm, or
median, slightly higher than the norm of the next city would indicate it
was better off. It is also possible that the cir¬ cumstances within which
each and every man thrives would not necessarily bring harmony to a
city. The problem of priority is further complicated by the
introduction of the notion that the welfare of each citizen is not
equally important to the city. Perhaps what is best for a city is to have
one class of its members excel, or to have it produce one great man. What
is to be under¬ stood as the good of the city's very soul?
Furthermore, even if the welfare of the whole city is to be identified
with the maximum welfare of each citizen, it might still be the case that
the policies of the city need to increase the welfare of a few people.
For example, in time of war the welfare of the whole polity depends on
the welfare of a few men, the armed forces. As long as war is a threat,
the good of the city Cits body, soul, or possessions) could depend on the
exceptional treatment of one class of its men. Knowledge of the
true nature of the polity is essential for political philosophy and so
for proper political decision-making. Men ignorant of the polity, the
citizens, or themselves cannot be statesmen or economists (133e; cf.
Statesman 258e). Such a man, ignorant of his and others' affairs will not
know what he is doing, therefore making mistakes and doing ill in private
and for the demos . He and they will be wretched.
Temperance and goodness are necessary for well-being, so it is bad
men who are wretched. Those who attain temperance not those who become
wealthy, are released from this misery. ^ Similarly, cities need
virtue for their well-being, not walls, triremes, arsenals, numbers
or size (134b; The full impact of this will be felt if one
remembers that this dialogue is taking place immediately prior to
the outbreak of the war with Sparta. Athens is in full flurry of
preparation, for she has seen the war coming for a number of years)
. Proper management of the polis by Alkibiades would be to impart
virtue to the citizens and he 131 could not impart it
without having it (134c). A good governor has to acquire the virtue
first. Alkibiades shouldn't be looking for power as it is conventionally
understood - the ability to do whatever one pleases - but he should be
looking for justice and temperance. If he and the state acted in
accordance with those two virtues, they would please god; their eyes
focussed on the divine, they will see and know themselves and their good.
If Alkibiades would act this way, Socrates would be ready to guarantee
his well-being (134e). But if he acts with a focus on the god¬ less and
dark, through ignorance of humself his acts will go godless and
dark. Alkibiades has received the Socratic advice to forget about
power as he understands it, in the interest of having real power over at
least himself. Conventionally understood, and in most applications of
it, power is the ability to do what one thinks fit ( Gorgias 469d) .
Various technae give to the skilled the power to do what they think fit
to the material on which they are working. The technae , however, are
hier¬ archically arranged, some ruling others. That is, some are
archetectonic with respect to others. What is actually fit for each
techne is dictated by a logically prior techne . The techne with the most
power is the one that dictates to the other techne what is fit and what
is not. This understanding seems to disclose two elements of
power: the ability to do what one thinks is fit, and knowing what is
fit. If a man can do what he wants but is lacking in intelligence,
the result is likely to be disastrous (135a; Republic 339a-e,
Gorgias 469b, 470a). If a man with tyrannical power were sick and
he couldn't even be talked to, his health would be destroyed. If he
knew nothing about navigation, a man exercising tyrannical power as
a ship's pilot may well 132 cause all on board to
perish. Similarly in a state a power without excellence or virtue
will fare badly. It is not tyrannical power that Alkibiades should
seek but virtue, if he would fare well, and until the time he has virtue,
it is better, more noble and appropriate for a man, as for a child, to be
governed by a better than to try to govern; part of being 'better'
includes knowledge that right rule is in the subject's interest. It is appropriate
for a bad man to be a slave; vice befits a slave, virtue a free man
(135c; it seems strange that vice should be appropriate for anyone,
slave or free, perhaps, rather, it defines a slave). One should most
certainly avoid all slavery and if one can perceive where one stands, it
may not at present be on the side of the free (135c). Socrates must
indicate to Alkibiades the importance of a clearer understanding of both
what he desires, power, and what this freedom is. In a conventional, and ambigu¬
ous sense, the man with the most freedom is the king or tyrant who is not
sub ject to anyone. Socrates must educate Alkibiades. The man who
wants power like the man who seeks freedom, doesn't know substantively
what he is looking for; the only power worth having comes with wisdom,
which alone can make one free. Socrates confides to Alkibiades that
his condition ought not to be named since he is a noble ( kalos) man (cf.
118b - is this another condition which will remain unnamed despite their
solitude?). Alkibiades must endeavour to escape it. If Socrates will it,
Alkibiades replies, he will try. To this Socrates responds that it is
only noble to say "if god wills it." This appears to be
Socrates' pious defence to a higher power. However, since he has drawn
attention to the phrase himself, a reminder may be permitted to the
effect that it is not necessarily quite the conventional piety to which
he refers: a strange parade of deities has been presented for the
reader's review in this dialogue. Alkibiades is eager to agree and
wants, fervently, to trade places with Socrates (135d). From now on
Alkibiades will be attending Socrates. Alkibiades, this time, will follow
and observe Socrates in silence. For twenty years Socrates has been
silent toward Alkibiades, and now, thinking it appropriate to trade
places, Alkibiades recognizes that silence on his part will help fill his
true, newly found needs. In the noise-filled atmosphere of today,
it is especially difficult to appreciate (and thus to find an audience
that appreciates) the im¬ portance of the final aspect of language that
will be discussed in connection with knowledge and power - silence. The
use of silence for emphasis is apparently known to few. But note how a
moment of silence on the television draws one's attention, whether or not
the program was being followed. And an indication of a residual respect
for the power of silence is that one important manner of honoring
political actors and heroes is to observe a moment of silence. Think,
too, how judicious use of silence can make someone ill at ease, or cause
them to re-examine their speech. The words "ominous" and
"heavy" may often be appropriately used to describe silence.
Silence can convey knowledge as well as power, and as the above examplss
may serve to show, it may have a significant role in each. When one begins
to examine the role of silence in the lives of the wise and the powerful,
one begins to see some of the problems of a loud society. To
start with, the reader acquaints himself with the role of silence in
political power. As witnessed in the dialogue, and, as well, in modern
regimes, there are many facets of this. Politicians must be silent about
much. Until recently, national defence was an acceptable excuse for silence
on the part of the leaders of a country. The exist¬ ence of a
professional "news" gathering establishment necessitates that
this silence be total, and not only merely with respect to external
powers, for some things that the enemy must not know must be kept from
the citizens as well (cf. 109c, 124a). Politicians are typically
silent about some things in order to attain office, and about even more
things in order to retain it. Dis¬ senters prudently keep quiet in order
to remain undetained or even alive. Common sense indeed dictates that one
observe a politic silence on a wide variety of occasions. Men in the
public eye may conceal their dis¬ belief in religious authority in the
interests of those in the community who depend on religious conviction
for their good conduct. Most con¬ sider lying in the face of the enemy to
be in the interests of the polity, and all admire man who keeps silent
even in the face of severe enemy torture. Parents often keep silent to
protect their children, either when concerned about outsiders or about
the more general vulnerability of those unable to reason. One
important political use of silence is in terms of the myths and fables
related to children. Inestimable damage may be done when the "noble
lie" that idealistically structures the citizen's understanding of
his regime is repudiated in various respects by the liberal desire to
expose all to the public in the interests of enlightenment. At the point
where children are shown that the great men they look up to are
"merely human," one most clearly sees the harm that may be done
by breaking silence. Everybody becomes really equal, despite appearances
to the con¬ trary, since everyone - even the heroes - acts from deep,
irrational motives, appetites, fears, etc. High ideals and motives for
action are debunked. Since many of the political uses of
silence mentioned above con¬ cern appropriate silence about things known,
the next brief discussion will focus on silence and knowledge. The
primary aspect of the general concern for silence in the life devoted to
the pursuit of knowledge is a function of the twin features of political
awareness and political con¬ cern. Though closely tied to the
aforementioned appropriate uses of silence, this is concerned less with
the disclosure of unsalutary facts about the life and times of men than
with questions and truths of a higher order. For example, if it could be
discerned that man's condition was abysmal, that he would inevitably
become decadent, it would not be politically propitious to announce the
fact on the eight-o'clock newscast There seem to be at least two
situations in which such facts are revealed A politically unaware man
might not realize it; a politically aware but somehow unconcerned man
might not care about the well-being of the community as a whole.
There are at least two additional respects in which silence is im¬
portant to the life of knowledge. Both play a part in Alkibiades' educa¬
tion in the First Alkibiades and contribute to his desire to trade places
with Socrates. Firstly one must be silent to learn what others have
to say. On the face of it, this seems a trivial and fairly obvious
thing to say. However when one appreciates the importance of trust and
friend¬ ship in philosophic discourse, one perceives that the notion of
silence important to this aspect of learning is much broader than the
mere logistics of taking turns speaking. To mention only a single
example, one has to prove one's ability to "keep one's mouth
shut" in order to develop the kind of trust essential to frank
discussion among dialogic partners. Secondly, silence
enhances mystery if there is reason to suspect that the silent know more
than they have revealed. This attraction to the mysterious accounts for
many things, including to mention only one example, the great appeal of
detective stories. If both witnesses and the author did not know more
than they let on in the beginning, if the reader/detective did not have
to take great care in extracting the truth from muddled accounts, it is
not likely that the genre would have the enduring readership it now
enjoys. Both of these might be tied directly to Socrates' initial
silence toward Alkibiades. Socrates had kept quiet until Alkibiades had
reached a certain stage in the development of his ambition. His
prolonged silence, and then his repeated reminders of it, as he begins to
speak, increases Alkibiades' curiosity. As it becomes more and more apparent
to Alkibiades that Socrates knows what he is talking about, Alkibiades
becomes increasingly desirous of learning. He wants Socrates to reveal
the truth to him, the truth he suspects Socrates is keeping to himself
(e.g., 124b, 132b, 127e, 119c, 130d, 131d, 135d). Throughout the dis¬
cussion the men discuss ever more important subjects and it is readily
apparent that their mutual trust grows at least partly because of
their recognition of what is appropriately kept silent (e.g., 109c,
118b, 135c). In addition, at yet another level, it has been
frequently ob¬ served that Socrates' silence ragarding a part of the
truth, or the necessity of an example, or a segment of the argument,
indicates to the careful reader a greater depth to the issues.
Recognition of this silence increases the philosophic curiosity of the
readers as he attempts to discover both the subject of, and the reason
for, the silence. Alkibiades has suggested that he shall switch
"places" with Socrates. Socrates has attended on him for all
this time and now Alkibiades wants to follow Socrates. This is only one
of a number of "switches" that occur in the turning around of
Alkibiades, witnessed only by Socrates and the careful reader.
In the beginning Socrates says that the lovers of Alkibiades left
because his qualities of soul were too overpowering. He is flatter¬ ing
Alkibiades in order, perhaps, to entice Alkibiades to begin listening. In
the end he suggests they ceased pursuing the youth because the bloom of
his beauty (the appearance of his body) has departed from him. At first
glance this is not complimentary at all. Nevertheless it is now that
Alkibiades claims to want very much to remain and listen. He will even
bear insults silently. At the start Alkibiades is haughty, superior
and self-sufficient. In the end he wishes to please Socrates,
recognizing his need for the power of speech in his coming to know
himself. At first he believes he already knows, and arguments seem
extraneous. By the end he wants to talk over the proper care of his soul
at length with Socrates. Probably the most notable turning around
in the dialogue is the lover—beloved switch between the beginning and the
end (cf. also Symposium 217d). But a number of puzzling features come to
the fore when one attempts to draw out the implications of the change. In
what way is their attraction switched? Socrates is attracted to
Alkibiades' un¬ quenchable eros . Perhaps a mark of its great will for
power is that it is now directed toward Socrates. However, what does that
suggest about Socrates' eros in turn, either in terms of its strength or
its direction? What kind of eros is attracted to a most powerful eros
which in turn is directed back to it? Do Socrates and Alkibiades both
have the same in¬ tensity of desires and are their ambitions not directed
toward the same ends? Perhaps Socrates' answer will suffice.
He is pleased with the well-born man. His eros is like a stork - he has
hatched a winged eros and it returned to care for him. (This is the first
indication that Socrates assumes responsibility for the form of
Alkibiades' desires; it also indicates another whole series of problems
regarding how Alkibiades will "care for" Socrates). They are
kindred souls (or at least have kindred eros) , and their relationship is
now one of mutual aid. Socrates will look into Alkibiades' soul to find
his own and Alkibiades will peer into Socrates' soul in attempting to
discern his. The reader is im¬ plicitly invited to look too; he has the
privilege starting again and examining the souls more closely each time
he returns to the beginning. Alkibiades agrees that that is the
situation in which they find themselves and he will immediately begin to
be concerned with justice. Socrates wishes he'll continue, but expresses
a great fear. In an ironic premonition of both their fates, he says he
doesn't distrust Alkibiades' nature, but, being able to see the might of
the state (cf. 132a), he fears that both of them will be
overpowered.There is always an irony involved in concluding an essay on a
Platonic dialogue. The most fitting ending, it seems, would be to
whet one's appetite for more. This I shall attempt to do by
pointing out an intriguing feature about the dialogue in general.
If one were to look at the Platonic corpus as a kind of testament
to Socrates, a story by Plato of a Socrates made young and
beautiful regardless of their historical accuracy. For example, the
Theaitetos , Sophist and Statesman all take place at approximately
the same time, shortly before Socrates' trial. Similarly, the
Euthyphro and Apology occur about then. The Crito and Phaido follow
shortly thereafter, and so on. The First Alkibiades has its own
special place. The First Alkibiades may well be the dialogue in
133 which Socrates makes his earliest appearance. The
Platonic tradition has presented us with this as our introduction
to Socrates, to philosophy. Why? This dialogue marks the first
Socratic experience with philosophy that we may witness. Why? The
fateful first meeting between Socrates and Alkibiades is also our
first meeting with Socrates. Why? The reader's introduction to the
philosopher and to philosophizing is in a conversation about a
contest for the best man. Why? One must assume 134
that, for some reason, Plato thought this fitting. Plato, Republic
377a.9-10. The dialogue is known as the First Alkibiades , Alkibiades I
and Alkibiades Major . Its title in Greek is simply Alkibiades but the
conventional titles enable us to distinguish it from the other dialogue
called Alkibiades . Stephanus pagination in the text of this thesis
refers to the First Alkibiades of Plato. The Loeb text (translated by W.
Lamb, 1927) formed the core of the reading. However, whenever a
significant difference was noted between the Lamb translation and that of
Thomas Sydenham ( circa 1800), my own translation forms the basis of the
commentary. Unless otherwise noted, all other works referred to are by
Plato. 2. The major sources for Alkibiades' life are Thucydides,
Xenophon, Plutarch and Plato. It seems to be the case that no history can
be "objective." Since one cannot record everything, a historian
must choose what to write about. Their choice is made on the basis of
their opinion of what is important and therein vanishes the
"objectivity" so sought after but always kept from modern
historians. The superiority of the accounts of the men referred to above
lies partially in that they do not pretend to that "value-neutral"
goal, even though their perspective may nonetheless be impartial.
I wish to take this opportunity to emphasize the limited importance
of the addition of this sketch of the historical Alkibiades. Were it
suggested that such a familiarity were essential to the understanding of
the dialogue, it would be implied that the dialogue as it stands is in¬
sufficient, and that I was in a position to remedy that inadequacy. As a
rule of thumb in interpretation one should not begin with such pre¬
suppositions. However, there are a number of ways in which the reading of
the dialogue is enriched by knowing the career of Alkibiades. For
example, the reader who doesn't know that Alkibiades' intrigues with (and
illegitimate son by) the Spartan queen was a cause of his fleeing from
Sparta and a possible motive for his assassination, would not have a full
appreciation of the comment by Socrates on the security placed around the
Spartan queens (121b-c). At all events, extreme caution is necessary so
that extra historical baggage will not be imported into the dialogue. It
might be quite easy to prematurely evaluate the historical Alkibiades,
and thereby misunderstand the dialogue. 3. We are also told she had
dresses worth fifty minae (123c). Plutarch, Life of Alkibiades , 1.1
(henceforth referred to simply as Plutarch); Plato, Alkibiades I , 112c,
124c, 118d—e. Plutarch, II. 4-6. 6. Diodoros Siculus,
Diodoros of Sicily , XII. 38. iii-iv (hence¬ forth Diodoros).
7. This is the Anytos who was Socrates' accuser. He was also
notorious in Athens for being the first man to bribe a jury (composed of
500 men)! He had been charged with impiety. Some suspect that Alkibiades'
preference for Socrates caused Anytos to be jealous and that this was a
motive for his accusation of Socrates. 8. Plutarch, IV. 5.
9. The historical accuracy of the representation is impossible to
determine and, so far as we need be concerned, philosophically
irrelevant. 10. Actually Alkibiades admits this in a dialogue which
Plato wrote (cf. Symposium 212c-223b, esp. 215a, ff.). 11.
Plutarch, VI. 1. 12. Plato, Symposium 219e-220e; Plutarch VII.
3. 13. Plato, Symposium 220e-221c; Plutarch VII. 4; Diadoros
XIII. 69. i-70. vi; cf. Thucydides, History of the Peloponnesian War , IV
89- 101 (henceforth: Thucydides). 14. Thucydudes, V.
40-48. 15. Cf. also Plutarch, X. 2-3. 16. Plutarch,
XIV. 6-9; Thucydides V. 45. 17. Plutarch, XIII. 3-5. Cf.
Aristotle's discussion in his Politics , 1284al5-b35; 1288a25-30;
1302b5-22; 1308bl5-20. 18. Thucydides, VI. 16-18. 19.
Diodoros, XII. 84. i-iii; Thucydides, VI. 9-25, 8-15. 20.
Thucydides, VI. 25. 21. Plutarch, XVIII. 1-2; Thucydides, VI.
26. 22. The Hermai were religious statues, commonly positioned by
the front entrance of a dwelling. Hermes was the god of travelling and
of property. Cf. Thucydides, VI. 27-28. 23.
Thucydides, VI. 29; Plutarch, XVIII. 3-XX. 1
24. Thucydides, VI. 46. 25. Thucydides,
VI. 48-50. Thucydides, VI. 48. 27. Thucydides, VI.
50-51. 28. Plutarch, XX. 2-XXI. 6; Diodoros, XIII. 4 i-iv;
Thucydides, VI. 60-61. 29. Plutarch, XXII. 1-4.
30. Thucydides, VI. 88-93. 31. Plutarch, XXIII. 1-6.
32. Thucydides, VII. 27-29. 33. Thucydides, VIII. 6,
11-14. 34. Plutarch, XXIII. 7-8; cf. also Plato, Alkibiades I ,
121b-c where Plato's mention might provide some support for a claim that
the motive was other than lust. 35. Thucydides, VIII. 45-47;
Plutarch, XXV 1-2. 36. Plutarch, XXIV. 3-5. 37.
Thucydides, VIII. 48-54. 38. Diodoros, XIII. 41. iv-42iii;
Plutarch, XXVI. 1-6. 39. Thucydides, VIII. 72-77. 40.
Thucydides, VIII. 89-93. 41. Thucydides, VIII. 97. For an excellent
and beautiful examina¬ tion of this in Thucydides, read Leo Strauss,
"Preliminary Observations of the Gods in Thucydides' Work."
INTERPRETATION , IV:1, Winter, Martinus Nijhoff, The Hague,
Netherlands. 42. Plutarch, XXVII.
1-4. 43. Xenophon, Hellenika I, i, 11-18;
Diodoros, XIII. 49. iii-52ii 44. Xenophon,
Hellenika, I, i, 9-10; Plutarch, XXVII. 4-XXVIII. 2 45.
Xenophon, Hellenika, I, iii, 1-22. 46.
Xenophon, Hellenika, I, iv, 8-17; Plutarch, XXXI. 1-XXXII.
3. 47. Xenophon, Hellenika, I, iv, 20-21;
Plutarch, XXXII. 4-XXXIII. 48. Plutarch,
XXXIV. 2-6. 49. Diodoros, XIII. 68.
i-69. iii. 50. Plutarch, XXIX. 1-2. 51. Xenophon, Hellenika I,
v, 11-16; Plutarch, XXXV. 2-XXXVI. 2. 52. Plutarch,
XXXVI-XXXVIII. 53. Diodoros, XIV. 11. i-iv; Plutarch XXXVIII.
4-XXXIX. 5. There are various accounts, the similar feature being the
Spartan instigation. It is not likely that it was a personal
assassination (because of the queen), but it was probably not purely due
to political motives, either. 54. Aristophanes, Frogs , 1420-1431;
cf. Aristophanes, Clouds, 362; Plato, Symposium 221b.
55. Aristophanes, Clouds , 217 ff. 56. Politically speaking,
however, this is not to be thoroughly disregarded, for in their numbers
they can trample even the best of men. 57. Cf. for example: Plato,
Gorgias 500c, Aristotle, Politics 1324a24 ff., Rousseau, Social Contract
, Book I, Preface and Bk. II, chap. 7, Marx, Theses on Feuerbach ,
#11. 58. Hobbes, Leviathan , edited by C. B. MacPherson, Pelican
Books, Middlesex, 1968, page 102 ff. 59. It is interesting
that Socrates uses the promise of power to entice Alkibiades to listen so
that he can persuade him that he doesn't know what power is. It is very
important for the understanding of the dialogue that the reader remember
that Socrates has characterized Alkibiades' desire for honor (105b) as a
desire for power. This is of crucial significance throughout the
dialogue, and in particular in con¬ nection with Socrates' attempts to
teach Alkibiades from whom to desire honor, and in what real power
consists. The reader is advised to keep both in mind throughout the
dialogue. Perhaps at the end he may be in a position to judge in what the
difference consists. 60. The most notorious example, perhaps, is
Martin Heidegger, although he was surely not the only important man
implicated with fascism. 61. Cf. Aiskhylos, Agamemnon 715-735, and
Aristophanes, Frogs 1420-1431, for the metaphor. The latter is a
reference to Alkibiades himself, the former a statement of the general
problem. (f. also Republic 589b; Laws 707a; Kharmides 155d; and
Alkibiades I 123a). 62. The fully developed model resulting from
this effort should probably only be made explicit to the educators. The
entire picture (including the hero's thoughts about the cosmos, etc.)
would be baffling to children and most adults, and would thus detract
from their ability to identify with the model. Perhaps a less
thoroughly-developed example would suffice for youths. However, the
entire conception of the best man that the youths are to emulate should
be made explicit. The task is difficult but worth the effort, since the
consistency of two or more features of the model can only be positively
ascertained if he is fully developed. An obvious example of where
conflicts might arise should this not be done is where, say, a very
hybristic, superior and self- confident young man is the leader of the
radical democratic faction of a city. Some kind of conflict is inevitable
there, and those tensions are much more obvious though not necessarily
more penetrating than those caused by incompatible metaphysical
views. 63. For example, Lakhes , Kharmides , Republic , Euthyphro
. 64. These questions are not the same, for in many dialogues
the person named does not have the longest, or even a seemingly major
speak¬ ing part; e.g., Gorgias , Phaedo , Minos , Hipparkhos .Protagoras
, 336d. Here Alkibiades is familiar with Socrates, for he recognizes his
"little joke" about his failing memory. However, Socrates was
not yet notorious throughout Athens, for the eunuch guarding the door did
not recognize him ( Protagoras 314d). Much of this specula¬ tion as to
the date depends on there not being anachronisms between (as opposed to
within) Platonic dialogues. We have no priori reason to believe there are
no anachronisms. However, it might prove to be useful to compare what is
said about the participants in other dialogues. The problem of
anachronisms within dialogues is a different one than we are referring to
in our discussion of the dramatic date. Plato, for a variety of philosophic
purposes, employs anachronisms within dialogues, including perhaps, that
of indicating that the teaching is not time-bound. 66. This is
obviously related to teleology, a way of accounting for things that
concentrates on the fulfilled product, the end or teleos of the thing and
not on its origin, as the most essential for under¬ standing the thing.
The prescientific, or common-sensical, understanding of things is a
teleological one. The superior/ideal/proper character¬ istic of things
somehow inform the ordinary man's understanding of the normal. This
prescientific view is important to return to, for it is such an outlook,
conjoined with curiosity, that gives rise to philosophic wonder.
67. 103a.1, 104c.4, 104d.4, 104e.l, 123c.8, 123e.3, 124a.2. For
this kind of detailed information, I found the Word Index to Plato , by
Leonard Brandwood, an invaluable guide. 68. The challenge to
self-sufficiency is important to every dialogue, to all men. It is
something we all, implicitly or explicitly, strive towards, a key
question about all men's goals. Even these days, one thing that will
still make a man feel ashamed is to have it suggested that he depends on
someone (especially his spouse). The first step toward
self-improvement has to be some degree of self-contempt, and that might
be sparked if Alkibiades realizes his dependency. 69.
Socrates might be saying this to make the youth open up. It isn't purely
complimentary; he doesn't say you are right. (Cf. also Kharmides 158
a-b). I am indebted for this observation to Proclus whose Commentary on
the First Alkibiades , is quite useful and interesting. In order to claim
that something is or is not a cause for wonder, one apparently would have
to employ some kind of criteria. Such criteria would refer to some larger
whole which would render the thing in question either evident or
worthy of wonder or trivial. None of these has been explicitly suggested
in the dialogue with reference either to difficulty of stopping speech or
beginning to talk. 71. It may be important to note that this
discussion refers to political limits, political ambitions. Perhaps a
higher ambition (per¬ haps indeed the one Socrates is suggesting to
Alkibiades) can be under¬ stood as an attempt to tyrannize nature
herself, to rule (by knowing the truth about) even the realm of
possibility and not to be confined by it. 72. One notices that
this, by implication, is a claim by Socrates to know himself, not exactly
a modest claim. 73. Interestingly, he does not consider what
Alkibiades heard in such speeches to be part of his education,
"comprehensively" listed at 106e. 74. This appears
similar to Socrates' strategy with Glaukon. Cf. Craig, L.H., An
Introduction to Plato's Republic , pp. 138-202; especially pp. 163-4;
Bloom, A., "Interpretive Essay," in The Republic of Plato ,
pp. 343-4. 75. Cf. Republic , 435c. 76. Cf.
Republic , 327b, 449b; Kharmides , 153b; Parmenides , 126a.While imagined
contexts may influence one's thinking and speaking in certain ways, one
is not naively assuming that then one will speak and act the same as one
would if the imagined were actualized. Many things might prevent
one from doing as well as one imagined. An example familair to the
readers of Plato might be the construction of the good city in
speech. Cf. 105d, 131e, 123c, and 121a. One might be curious as to
the difference between Phainarete's indoor teaching of Socrates and
Deinomakhe's indoor teaching of Alkibiades. Also perhaps noteworthy is
that Alkibiades was taught indoors by his actual mother: the masculine
side of his nurture was not provided by his natural father. Except see
Hobbes, Leviathan, chapter 29; Plato, Republic , 372e. And one must
remember that when the plague strikes, the city is dramatically affected.
80. Thucydides, VI. 21; I. 142-3; II. 13. 81. Note two
things: (1) Athenians don't debate about this at the ekklesia ; (2)
Alkibiades, as well as the wrestling master, would be qualified
(118c-d). Socrates drops dancing here; perhaps it is similar enough
to wrestling to need no separate mention/ and to provide no additional
material for consideration. But if that were so one might wonder why it
was mentioned in the first place. 83. Perhaps "all
cases" should be qualified to "all cases which are ruled by an
art." The general ambiguity surrounding this remark in¬ vites the
reader's reflection on the extent to which Socrates' suggestion could be
seen to be a much more general kind of advice. Perhaps Alkibiades would
be better off imitating Socrates - period. Or perhaps something else
about Socrates' pattern (of life) could be said to provide "the
correct answer in all cases," - he is after all a very rational man.
84. The referent here is unclear in the dialogue. It could be 'lawfulness'
and 'nobility' just as readily as the 'justice' which Socrates chooses to
consider; that choice significantly shapes the course of the dialogue.
Note: Socrates brought up 'lawful' (even though there probably is no law
in Athens commanding advisors to lie to the demos in the event they war
on just people); whereas Alkibiades' concern was nobility.
85. This would be especially true if considerations of justice
legitimately stop at the city's walls. Cf. also Thucydides, I. 75, and
compare the relative importance of these motives in I. 76. This
conclusion may not be fair to Alkibiades, for he is clearly not similar
to Kallikles (see below) since he is convinced that he must speak with
Socrates to get to the truth. He wants to keep talking. But he is still
haughty. He has just completed a short dis¬ play of skill that wasn't
sufficiently appreciated by Socrates, and, most importantly, there will
be an unmistakeable point in the dialogue at which Alkibiades does become
serious about learning. Alkibiades will confess ignorance and that will
mark a most important change in his attitude. His attention here
isn't focussed on the premises but on the conclusion of the
argument. 87. There are a number of possibilities here for speculation
as to the cause of his taking refuge - from shame? from the truth?
from the argument? 88. Draughts is a table game with
counters, presumably comparable to chess. Draughts is a Socratic metaphor
for philosophy or dialectics. The example arises in connection with
language, and seem to indicate the reader's participation in the
dialogue. First, of course, Plato must have us in mind, for Alkibiades
cannot know that draughts are Socrates' metaphor for philosophical
dialectics. Second, the metaphor itself de¬ mands reflecting upon. How
not to play is a strange thing to insert. Though proceeding through
negation is often the only way to progress in philosophy, one doesn't set
out to learn how not to play. The many indeed cannot teach one to
philosophize, but the question of how not to philosophize often has to be
answered in light of the many, as does the question of how not to
"argue." The philosopher must show caution both because of the
many's potential strength over himself, and through his consideration of
their irenic co-existence; he must not rock the boat, so to
speak. Cf. Hobbes, Leviathan , p. 100; Genesis 2:19-20. 90. It
is interesting that with reference to "running" (the province
of the gymnastics expert or horseman) Socrates mentions both horses and
men. In the example of "health" he mentions only men. Pre¬
sumably he is indicating that there is some distinction to be made
between men and horses that is relevant to the two technae . Quite likely
this distinction shall prove to be a significant aid in the analysis of
the metaphors of 'physician 1 and 'gymnast' that so pervade this
dialogue. Borrowing the analogy of 'horses' from the Apology (30e),
wherein cities are said to be like horses, one might begin by examining
in what way a gymnastics expert pertains more to the city than does a
doctor, or why "running" and not "disease" is a
subject for consideration in the city, while both are important for men.
Perhaps a good way to begin would be by understanding how, when man's
body becomes the focus for his concerns, the tensions arise between the
public and private realm, between city and man. 91. The
practical political problem, of course, is not simply solved either when
the philosophic determination of 'the many' is made, or when empirical
observation yields the results confirming what 'the many' believe. The
opinions must still be both evaluated and accounted for. 92.
However, when it is an extreme question of health - e.g., starvation, a
plague - a question of life or death, they do. The con¬ dition of the
body does induce people to fight and the condition of the body seems to
be the major concern of most people and is thus probably a real, though
background, cause of most wars and battles. 93. Homer, Odyssey ,
XXII 41-54; XVIII 420-421; XX 264-272, 322- 337, 394. 94. In
Euripides' play, Hippolytos , Phaedra, the wife of Theseus, is in love
with her stepson Hippolytos, and though unwilling to admit, she is unable
to conceal, her love from her old nurse. She describes him so the nurse
has to know, and then says she heard it from herself, not Phaedra.
95. It is undoubtedly some such feature of power as this that
Alkibiades expects Socrates to mention as that power which only he can
give Alkibiades. It may be that Socrates' power is closely tied to speech
- we are not able to make that judgement yet - but Alkibiades is
certainly not prepared for what he gets. The reader is cautioned to
remember that Socrates is assuming power to be the vehicle for
Alkibiades' honor. At least one sense in which this is necessary to
Socrates' designs has come to light. Alkibiades could be convinced
that he should look for honor in a narrower group of people once he
thought they were the people with the secret to power. It is not as
likely that he would come to respect that group (especially not for being
the real keys to power) if he hadn't already had his sense of honor
reformed. Cf. Gorgias , beginning at 499b and continuing through the end.
He certainly doesn't seem to care, although it may be a bluff or a pose.
97. Such as, perhaps, a dagger only partially concealed under his
sleeve - Gorgias 469c-d. 98. This, of course, is from the
perspective of the city. Very powerful arguments have been made to the
contrary. The city may not be the primary concern of the wisest
men. 99. Perhaps it should be pointed out, though, that men who
devote themselves to public affairs frequently neglect their family -
again the tension between public and private is brought to our attention
(cf. Meno, 93a-94e). 100. The fact that oaks grow stunted in
the desert does not mean that the stunted oak of the desert is natural.
The only thing we could argue is natural is that 'natural' science could
explain why the acorn was unable to fulfill its potential, just as
'natural' science can explain how there can be two-headed, gelded, or
feverish horses. In any explanation of this sort the reference is to a
more ideal tree or horse. And any examination of an existing tree or
horse will involve a reference to an even more perfect idea of a tree or
a horse. 101. It may be of no small significance that Socrates uses
the word ' ideas ' in this central passage. It is the only time in
this dialogue that the word is used and it seems at first innocuous.
'Ideas' is another form of ' eidos ' - 'the looks' so famous in the
central epistemological books of the Republic. What is so
exceptional about the " * use here is that it
occurs precisely where the question of the proper contest, the question
of the best man, is raised. Socrates says, "My, my, best of men,
what a thing to say! How unworthy of the looks and other advantages of
yours." We are perhaps being told it is unworthy of 'the looks,'
'the ideas , 1 that Alkibiades does not pose a high enough ambition. The
translators (who never noted this) are not in complete error. Their error
is one of imprecision. The modifier "your" ( soi) is an
enclitic and would have been understood (by Alkibiades) to refer to
"looks" as well as to his other advantages. However, as an
enclitic, it is used as a subtle kind of emphasis, and it is clearly the
"other advantages" that are emphasized. The 'soi' would
normally appear in front of the first of a list of articles. It doesn't
here, and the careful reader of the Greek text would certainly be first
impressed with it as " the looks." The reference to Alkibiades'
looks would be a second thought. And only in someone not familiar with
the Republic or with the epistemological problem of the best man, would
the "second- thought" be weighty anough to drown the first
impression. Incidentally, it is indeed interesting that the word
for the highest metaphysical reality in Plato's works is a word so
closely tied to everyday appearance. Once again there is support for the
dialectical method of questioning and answering, to slowly and carefully
refine the world of common opinion and find truth or the reality behind
appearance. 102. Whether the war justly or unjustly is not
mentioned. I believe that the referent to "others" is left
ambiguous. Note also that here (120c) Socrates speaks of the Spartan
generals ( strategoi ), a subtle change from 'king' (120a) a moment
earlier. Per¬ haps he is implying a difference between power and actual
military capability. 104. This is/ of course/ generally good
advice. Cf. Thucydides I 84: one shouldn't act as though the enemy were
ill-advised. One must build on one's foresight, not on the enemy's
oversight. 105. The important provision of nurture is added to
nature. Cf. 103a and the discussion of the opening words of the
dialogue. 106. Socrates has included himself in the deliberation
explicitly at this point, serving as a reminder to the reader that both
of these superior men should be considered in the various discussions,
not just one. A comparison of them and what they represent will prove
fruitful to the student of the dialogue. 107. Plato, another
son of Ariston, is perhaps smiling here; we recall why it is suspected
that Alkibiades left Sparta and perhaps why he was killed.
Two more facets of this passage are, firstly, that this might be
seen as another challenge by Socrates (in which case we should wonder as
to its purpose). Secondly, it implies that Alkibiades' line may have been
corrupted, or is at least not as secure as a Spartan or Persian one.
Alkibiades cannot be positive that his acknowledged family and kin are
truly his. 108. There is a very important exception and one
significant to this dialogue as well as to political thinking in general.
One may change one's ancestry by mythologizing it (or lying) as Socrates
and Alkibiades have both done. This may serve an ulterior purpose;
recall, for example, the claims of many monarchies to divine right.
109. Hesiod Theogony 928; cf. also Homer, Iliad 571 ff. 110.
The opposite of Athena, Aphrodite ( Symposium 180d), and Orpheus (
Republic 620a). 111. A number of Athenians may have thought this
was much the same effect as Socrates had. He led promising youths into a
maze from which it was difficult to escape. This discussion should
be compared in detail with the education outlined in the Republic . Such
a comparison provides even more material for reflection about the
connection between a man's nurture and his nature. (One significant
contrast: the Persians lack a musical education). 113.
Compare, for example, the difference concerning horseback riding:
Plato, Alkibiades I, 121e; and Xenophon, Kyropaideia , I, iii, 3. Cf., for
example, Machiavelli, The Prince , chapters 18, 19. The only other fox in
the Platonic corpus (besides its being the name of Socrates' deme -
Gorgias 495d) is in the Republic (365c) where the fox is the wily and
subtle deceiver in the facade of justice which is what Adeimantos, in his
elaboration of Glaukon's challenge, suggests is all one needs.
115. The reader of the dialogue has already been reminded of the
Allegory of the Cave, also in the context of nurture, at 111b. 116.
Thomas Sydenham, Works of Plato Vol. I , p. 69, points out - that
Herodotos tells us that this is not exclusively a Persian custom.
Egyptians, too, used all the revenue from some sections of land for the
shoes and other apparel of the queen. Cf. Herodotos, Histories , II, 97.
117. Cf. Pamela Jensen, "Nietzsche and Liberation: The Prelude
to a Philosophy of the Future ," Interpretation 6:2, p. 104:
"[Nietzsche] does not suppose truth to be God, but a woman, who has
good reasons to hide herself from man: her seductiveness depends upon her
secretiveness..." 118. This greatly compounds the problems of
understanding the two men and their eros . What has heretofore been
interpreted by Socrates as Alkibiades' ambition for power is now
explicitly stated to be an ambition for reputation. Are we to understand
them as more than importantly connected, but essentially similar? And
what are we to make of Socrates' inclusion of himself at precisely this
point? Does he want power too? Reputation? Perhaps we are to see both men
(and maybe even all erotic attraction whatsoever) as willing to have
power. Socrates sees power as coming through knowledge. Alkibiades
sees it as arising from reputa¬ tion. Is Socrates in this dialogue
engaged in teaching Alkibiades to respect wisdom over glory in the
interests of some notion of power? The philosopher and the timocrat come
out of (or begin as) the same class of men in the Republic. The reader
should examine what differences relevant to the gold/philosophic class,
if any, are displayed by Socrates and Alkibiades. Perhaps Socrates'
education of Alkibiades could be seen as a project in alchemy -
transforming silver into gold. 119. Homer, Iliad , X. 224-6. Cf.
Protagoras , 348d; Symposium , 174d; Alkibiades II , 140a; as well as
Alkibiades I , 119b, 124c. 120. This is not intended to challenge
Prof. Bloom's interpreta¬ tion ( The Republic of Plato , p. 311). As far
as I am capable of under¬ standing it and the text, his is the correct
reading. However, with respect to this point I believe the dialogue
substantiates reading the group of men with Polemarkhos as the many with
power, and Socrates and Glaukon as the few wise. 121. This is
left quite ambiguous. The jest could refer to: a) Socrates' claim
to believe in the gods b) Socrates' reason as to why his guardian
is better c) Socrates' claim that he is uniquely capable of
providing Alkibiades with power. In the Republic, inodes and rules
of music are considered of paramount political importance. Cf. Republic
376c-403c. 123. Cf. however. Symposium , 174a, 213b. At this stage
of the argument Socrates does not distinguish between the body and the
self. 124. This is the only time Socrates swears by an Olympian
god. He has referred to his own god, the god Alkibiades
"talked" to, a general monotheistic god, and he has sworn upon
the "common god of friendship" (cf. Gorgias 500b, 519e,
Euthyphro 6b), as well as using milder oaths such as 1 Babai 1 (118b,
119c). It would probably be very interesting to find out how
Socrates swears throughout the dialogues and reflect on their connection
to his talk of piety, and of course, his eventual charge and trial.
125. Strictly speaking that is the remark on which there won't be
disagreement, not the one following it. "Man is one of three
things," is something no one can disagree with. (He is what he
is and any two more things may be added to make a set of three.) Why does
Socrates choose to say it this way? And why three? Are there three
essential elements in man's nature? As we shall presently see, he does
assume a fourth which is not mentioned at this time. 126.
Though first on the list of Spartan virtues, temperance ( sophrosyne ), a
virtue so relevant to the problem of Alkibiades, does not receive much
treatment in this dialogue. One might also ask: if temperance is knowing
oneself, is there a quasi-virtue, a quasi¬ temperance based on right
opinion? 127. This is what Socrates' anonymous companion at the
beginning of Protagoras suggests to Socrates with respect to Alkibiades.
128. Homer, Odyssey , II. 364. Odysseus' son, Telemakhos, is called
the "only and cherished son" by his nurse when he reveals to
her his plan of setting out on a voyage to discover news about his
father. His voyage too (permitting the application of the metaphor
of descent and human nature) is guarded by a divine being.
Alkibiades/Telemakhos is setting out on a voyage to discover his
nature. 129. For other references to "stripping" in the
dialogues, see Gorgias 523e, 524d; cf. also Republic 601b, 612a, 359d,
361c, 577b, 474a, 452a-d, 457b; Ion 535d; Kharmides 154d, 154e;
Theaitetos 162b, 169b; Laws 772a, 833c, 854d, 873b, 925a; Kratylos
403b; Phaidros 243b; Menexenos 236d; Statesman 304a; Sophist
237d. 130. This word for release (apallattetai) has only been
used for the release of eros to this point in the dialogue (103a, 104c,
104e, 105d). Parenthetically, regarding this last passage, we note also
that the roles of wealth and goodness in well-being have not been
thoroughly 0 xplored. Perhaps he is suggesting a connection between
becoming rich and not becoming temperate. 131. One might
interject here that perhaps the virtues resulting from, say, a Spartan
nurture, do not depend on the virtues of the governors. Perhaps they
depend on the virtue or right opinion of the lawgiver, but maybe not even
that. There might be other counterbalancing factors, as, for example,
Alexander Solzhenitsyn suggests about Russians today - (Harvard
Commencement Address, 1978, e.g., paragraph 22). 132. As was
mentioned with respect to their other occurrences in the dialogue, the
metaphors of the diseased city, physician of the city, doctor of the
body, pilot of ship, ship-of-state and passenger are all worth
investigating more thoroughly, and in relation to each other. There is a
dialogue, the Parmenides , in which the "Young Socrates"
speaks. We do not know what to make of this, but the fact that he is
called the "Young" Socrates somehow distinguishes his role in
this, from the other dialogues. He is not called "Young
Socrates" in the Alkibiades I , nor is he referred to as
"Middle-aged Socrates" in the Republic , nor is he named
"Old Socrates" in the Apology . 134. Having come this
far, the reader might want to judge for himself some recent Platonic
scholarship pertaining to the First Alkibiades. In comparatively recent
times the major source of interest in the dialogue has been the popular
dispute about its authenticity. Robert S. Brumbaugh, in Plato for
the Modern Age , (p. 192-3) concludes: But the argument of
the dialogue is clumsy, its dialectic constantly refers us to God for
philosophic answers, and its central point of method - tediously made -
is simply the difficulty of getting the young respondent to make a
generalization. There is almost none of the inter¬ play of concrete
situation and abstract argument that marks the indisputably authentic
early dialogues of Plato. Further, the First Alkibiades includes an
almost textbook summary of the ideas that are central in the
authentic dialogues of Plato's "middle" period; so markedly
that it was in fact used as an introductory textbook for freshman
Platonists by the Neo-Platonic heads of the Academy ... it would be
surprising if this thin illustration of the tediousness of
induction were ever Plato's own exclusive philosophic theme: he had
too many other ideas to explore and offer. Benjamin Jowett,
translator of the dialogue and thus familiar with the writings, says in
his introduction to the translation: ... we have difficulty in
supposing that the same writer, who has given so profound and complex a
notion of the characters both of Alkibiades and Socrates in the
Symposium should have treated them in so thin and superficial a manner as
in the Alkibiades , or that he would have ascribed to the ironical
Socrates the rather unmeaning boast that Alkibiades could not
attain the objects of his ambition without his help; or that he should
have imagined that a mighty nature like his could have been reformed by a
few not very conclusive words of Socrates... There is none of the
undoubted dialogues of Plato in which there is so little dramatic
verisimilitude.Schleiermacher, originator of the charge of spuriousness,
analyzed the dialogue, (pp. 328-336). It is to him that we owe the current
dispute. Saving the best for last: ... there is nothing in it too
difficult or too profound and obscure for even the least prepared
tyro... This ... work ... appears to us but very insignificant and
poor... and ... [genuinely Platonic passages] may be
found sparingly dispersed and floating in a mass of worthless
matter... and ... we must not imagine for a moment that
in these speeches some philosophic secrets or other are intended to
be contained. On the contrary, though many genuine Platonic doctrines are
very closely connected with what is here said, not even the
slightest trace of them is to be met with... and ... in
short, however we may consider it, [the Alkibiades ] is in this respect
either a contradiction of all other Platonic dialogues, or else Plato's
own dialogues are so with reference to the rest. And whoever does
not feel this, we cannot indeed afford him any advice, but only
congratulate him that his notions of Plato can be so cheaply
satisfied... In any event, much could be said about whether
anything important to the philosophic enterprise would hinge upon the
authorship. My comments concerning the issue will be few. Firstly
there is no evidence that could positively establish the authorship. Even
should Plato rise from the dead to hold a press conference, we are
familiar enough with his irony to doubt the straightforwardness of such a
state¬ ment. Secondly, many of the arguments are based on
rather presumptuous beliefs that their proponents have a thorough
understanding of the corpus and how it fits together. I will not comment
further on such self- satisfaction. Thirdly, there are a
number of arguments based on stylistic analyses. If only for the reason
that these implicitly recognize that the dialogue itself must provide the
answer, they will be addressed. Two things must be said. First,
style changes can be willed, so to suggest anything conclusive about them
is to presume to understand the author better than he understood himself.
Second, style is only one of the many facets of a dialogue, all of which
must be taken into account to make a final judgement. As is surely
obvious by now, that takes careful study. And perhaps all that is
required of a dialogue is that it prove a fertile ground for such study. Aristophanes.
The Eleven Comedies . New York: Liveright Publishing Corp., 1943.
The King James BIBLE. Nashville, U.S.A.: Kedeka Publishers, 1976.
Bloedow, E. F. Alcibiades Reexamined . Weisbaden: Franz Steiner Verlag,
1973. Bloom, Allan D. The Republic of Plato . Translated, with
Notes and an Interpretive Essay, by Allan Bloom. New York: Basic Books,
1968. Brandwood, Leonard. A Word Index to Plato . Leeds: W. S.
Maney and Son, Ltd., 1976. Brumbaugh, R. S. Plato for the
Modern Age . U.S.A.: Crowell Collier Press, 1962. Churchill,
Winston. Great Contemporaries . London: Macmillan and Co. Ltd.,
1943. Craig, Leon H. An Introduction to Plato's Republic .
Edmonton: printed and bound by the University of Alberta, 1977.
de Romilly, Jacqueline. Thucydides and Athenian Imperialism .
Translated by Philip Thody. Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1963.
Diodorus Siculus. Diodorus of Sicily . Translated by C. H.
Oldfather; Loeb Classical Library. Volumes IV, V and VI. London:
Heinemann, 1946. Friedlander, Paul. Plato , Volumes I, II and
III. New York: Bollingen Series, 1958. Grene, David; and
Richmond Lattimore, eds. The Complete Greek Tragedies . Aeschylus I ,
translated by Lattimore; Euripides I , translated by Lattimore. Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1953. Grote. Plat o and the Other
Companions of Sokrates . Vol. II. London: John Murray, 1885.
Hamilton, E. and H. Cairns. Plato: The Collected Dialogues .
Princeton: Princeton University Press, Bollingen Series, 1961.
Hammond, N. G. L. and H. H. Scullard, eds. The Oxford Classical
Dictionary. Oxford University Press, Clarendon Press, Herodotus. The Histories
. Translated by J. E. Powell; Oxford Library of Tranalstions. Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 1949. Hesiod. Hesiod . Translated by
Richmond Lattimore. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1959.
Hobbes, Thomas. Leviathan . Edited by C. B. Macpherson. Middlesex,
England: Pelican Books, 1968. Homer. Iliad . Translated by Richmond
Lattimore. New York: Harper and Row, 1951. Homer. Odyssey .
Translated by Richard Lattimore. New York: Harper and Row, 1965.
Jensen, Pamela. "Nietzsche and Liberation: The Prelude to a
Philosophy of the Future," Interpretation . 6:2. The Hague: Martinus
Nijhoff, 1977. Jowett, B., ed. The Dialogues of Plato :
Volume I. Translated by B. Jowett. Oxford: Oxford University Press,
Clarendon Press, 1953. Machiavelli, N. The Prince . Translated and
edited by Mark Musa. New York: St. Martin's Press, 1964.
Marx, K. "Theses on Feuerbach," The Marx-Engels Reader . Edited
by R. C. Tucker. New Tork: W. W. Norton and Company, Inc., 1972.
McKeon, Richard, ed. The Basic Works of Aristotle . New York:
Random House, 1941. Olympiodorus. Commentary on the First Alkibiades
of Plato. Critical texts and Indices by L. G. Wes ter ink'. Amsterdam:‘
North-Holland Publishing Company, 1956. O'Neill, William.
Proclus: Alkibiades I A Translation and Commentary . The Hague:
Martinus Nijhoff, 1965. Paulys-Wissowa. Real-Encyclopoedie der
Classischen Altertumswissenschaft . Stuttgart: J. B. Metzler
Buchhandlung, 1893. Plato. Plato in Twelve Volumes . Loeb Classical
Library; translated by R. G. Bury, H. N. Fowler, W. Lamb, P. Shorey;
London: Heinemann, 1971. Plutarch. Lives . Loeb
Classical Library, Vol. IV; translated by B. Perrin. London: Heinemann,
Rousseau, J.-J. The Social Contract . Translated and edited by R.
Masters and J. Masters. New York: St. Martin's Press, 1978. Ryle,
G. Plato's Progress. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,Schleiermacher.
Introduction to the Dialogues of Plato . Translated by W. Dobson.
Cambridge: J. & j. j. Deighton, Shorey, Paul. What Plato Said . Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1933. Solzhenitsyn, A.
"Harvard Commencement Address." Harvard University, Cambridge,
Mass. 1978. Strauss, Leo. "Preliminary Observations of the
Gods in Thucydides Work," Interpretation 4:1. The Hague z Martinus
Nijhoff, 1974. Sydenham, Floyer, transl. The Works of Plato . Vol.
I. Edited by Thomas Taylor. London: R. Wilks, Taylor, A. E. Plato: The
Man and His Work . New York: Meridian Books, 1956.
Thucydides. History of the Peloponnesian War . Translated by Rex
Warner; Introduction and Notes by M. I. Finley. Middlesex, England:
Penguin, 1954. Westlake, H. D. Individuals in Thucydides .
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 'Ennio Carando. Keywords: l’amore
platonico, l’amore socratico, l’implicatura di Socrate, filosofo socratico,
Socrate, Alcibiade. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Grice e Carando” – The
Swimming-Pool Library.
Grice e Carapelle: l’implicatura
conversazionale – linguaggio e metafilosofia – linguaggio oggetto –
meta-linguaggio – Peano – Tarski 1944 – bootstrapping -- filosofia italiana –
Luigi Speranza (Napoli). Filosofo italiano. Grice: “I like Carcano; I
cannot say he is an ultra-original philosopher, but I may – My favourite is
actually a tract on him, on ‘meta-philosophy,’ or rather ‘language and
metaphilosophy,’ which is what I’m all about! How philosophers misuse
‘believe,’ say – but Carcano has also philosophised on issues that seem very
strange to Italians, like ‘logica e analisi,’ ‘semantica’ and ‘filosofia del
linguaggio’ – brilliantly!” Quarto Duca di Montaltino, Nobile dei Marchesi di C..
Noto per i suoi studi di fenomenologia, semantica, filosofia del linguaggio e
più in generale di filosofia analitica. Studia a Napoli, durante i quali si
formò alla scuola di Aliotta e si dedica allo studio delle scienze. Studia a
Napoli e Roma. Sulla scia teoretica del suo tutore volle approfondire le
problematiche poste dalla filosofia e riesaminare attentamente il linguaggio in
uso. La sua tesi centrale è che correnti come il pragmatismo, il positivismo,
la fenomenologia, l'esistenzialismo e la psicoanalisi, fossero il portato
dell'esigenza teoretica di una maggiore chiarezza – la chiarezza non e
sufficiente -- delle varie questioni che emergevano da una crisi culturale,
vitale ed esistenziale. Al centro di tale crisi giganteggia la polemica fra
senza senso metafisico e senso anti-metafisica, soprattutto a causa del vigore
critico del positivismo logico, contro il quale a sua volta lui -- che ritiene
necessaria una sostanziale alleanza o quantomeno un aperto dialogo fra la
metafisica e la scienza -- pone diversi rilievi critici, principale dei quali è
quello di minare alla base l'unità dell'esperienza, alla Oakeshott -- che senza
una cornice o una struttura metafisica in cui inserirsi rimarrebbe
indefinitamente frammentata in percezioni fra loro irrelate. A questo
inconveniente si può rimediare temperando il positivismo con lo
sperimentalismo, ovvero accompagnando alla piena accettazione del metodo una
piena apertura all’esperienza così come “esperienza” è stata intesa, ad
esempio, nella fenomenologia intenzionalista intersoggetiva di Husserl. In
questo senso si può procedere a mantenere una costante tensione sui problemi
posti dalla filosofia, in opposizione a ogni dogma di sistema, e al contempo
non cadere nell'angoscia a cui conduce lo scetticismo radicale che tutto
rifiuta, compresa l'esperienza. Non si tratterebbe dunque per la filosofia di
definire verità immutabili ma di sincronizzarsi col ritmo del metodo basato
sull’esperienza fenomenologico, sussumendo i risultati sperimentali e
integrandoli nel continuum di una struttura metafisica mediante il ponte
dell'esperienza. Altre opere: “Filosofia e civiltà” (Perrella, Roma); Filosofia
(Soc. Ed. del Foro Italiano, Roma); Il problema filosofico. Fratelli Bocca,
Roma); La semantica, Fratelli Bocca, Roma – cf. Grice, “Semantics and
Metaphysics”) Metodologia filosofica, una rivoluzione filosofica minore.
Libreria scientifica editrice, Napoli 1958. Esistenza ed alienazione” (MILANI,
Padova); Scienza unificata, Unita della scienza (Sansoni, Firenze); Analisi e
forma logica (MILANI, Padova); Il concetto di informativita, MILANI, Padova);
La filosofia linguistica, Bulzoni Editore, Roma. Dizionario biografico degli
italiani, Roma. Ben altrimenti articolato e puntuale
ci sembra l'intervento operato sulla fenomenologia da Paolo Filiasi Carcano di
Montaltino de Carapelle, quarto duca di Montaltino, ed allievo di Aliotta a Napoli
e pur fedele estensore delle sue teorie, sulle quali, per questo mo tivo, ci
siamo nell'ultima parte dilungati sorvolando sullo scarso ruolo t-he gioca in
esse l'opera di Husserl. L'iter formativo di Carcano interseca situazioni ed
esperienze riscontrabili, come ve dremo, anche in altri giovani filosofi della
stessa generazione. Di più, nel.suo caso, c'è una singolare — e probabilmente
indotta — analogia con la vicenda teoretica del primo Husserl. In realtà, —
scrive l'autore in un brano autobiografico del 1956 — io non posso dire di
essere venuto alla filosofia in maniera diretta, per un'intima voca zione alla
speculazione o per un normale maturarsi dei miei studi e della mia men talità
giovanile, ma questa era soprattutto caratterizzata da un'intensa passione
pèrle scienze e da una viva disposizione per la matematica54. Questo germinale
orientamento, unito a una sensibilità religiosa che non tarderà a manifestarsi,
ebbe come primo e scontato effetto di allontanare Filiasi Garcano dall'area
neo-idealistica, il cui radicale immanentismo, la esclusione dei concetti di
peccato e di grazia e l'avversione per ogni for- 53 Ibidem, p. 7. 54 P. Filiasi
Carcano, 17 ruolo della metodologia nel rinnovamento della filo sofia
contemporanea, in AA.W., La filosofia contemporanea in Italia. Invito al
dialogo, Asti, Arethusa, 1958, p. 219. ma di naturalismo, non potevano in
alcun modo essere accettati 55. Di qui un sentimento di estraneità e di
insoddisfazione subito denunciati fin dai primi scritti, l'intima perplessità e
la difficoltà di orientarsi in una temperie culturale già decisa e fissata
nelle sue grandi linee da altri. E, d'altro canto, un naturale rivolgersi al
problema metodologico, come pre liminare assunzione di consapevolezza circa i
percorsi teoretici che con veniva seguire per ottenere uno scopo valido, senza
tuttavia ancora nul la presumere circa la necessità di quei percorsi o la
natura di questo sco po. In tal senso, l'elaborazione di una qualsivoglia
metodologia doveva prevedere come esito programmatico, da un lato, una sorta di
epochizza- zione delle grandi tematiche metafisiche e della tradizionale
formulazione dèi problemi, dall'altro lato, un lungo e paziente lavoro di
analisi, con fronto, chiarificazióne e comprensione che consentisse di
recuperare, di quelle tematiche e di quei problemi, il contenuto più autentico.
Ma più lo sguardo critico del giovane filòsofo andrà maturando fino ad
abbracciare nel suo complesso il controverso panorama culturale del tempo, più
quel programma iniziale perderà la sua connotazione prope deutica per
trasformarsi in compito destinale, in una ' fighi for clarity* che assumeva i
termini di un radicale esame di coscienza nei confronti della filosofia. Scrive
Filiasi Carcano: Confesserò che varie volte ho avuto ed ho l'impressione di non
aver abba stanza compreso, e per questo alla mia spontanea insoddisfazione (al
tempo stesso scientifica e religiosa) si mescola un senso di incomprensione.
Questo stato d'animo spiega bene il mio atteggiamento che non è propriamente di
critica (...), ma ha piut tosto il carattere di un prescindere, di una
sospensione del giudizio, di una messa in parentesi, in attesa di una più
matura riflessione 56. Al fondo dei dualismi e delle vuote polemiche che, nella
comunità filoso- fica italiana degli anni Trenta, sembravano prevaricare sulle
più urgenti esigenze scientifiche e di sviluppo, Filiasi Carcano coglie i
sintomi dì un conflitto epocale, di una inquietudine psicologica e di
un'incertezza morale che andranno a comporsi in una vera e propria
fenomenologia della crisi. ' Crisi della civiltà ', anzitutto, come recita il
titolo della sua opera prima 57, dove al desiderio di fuggire l'alternativa del
dogmatismo fa da 55 Per questi punti mi sono riferito a M. L. Gavazzo, Paolo
Filiasi Carcano,. «Filosofia oggi», X, 1, 1987, pp. 57-74.; * P; Filiasi
Carcano, // ruolo della metodologia,;cit., p. 220. 57 Cfr. P. Carcano, Crisi
della civiltà e orientamenti della filosofia contraltare l'eterno dissidio
tra ragione e fede. Crisi esistenziale, di con seguenza, dovuta al prevalere
delle tendenze scettiche e antimetafisiche su quelle spirituali e religiose.
Crisi della filosofia, infine, fondata sulla raggiunta consapevolezza del suo
carattere problematico, sull'incapacità di realizzare interamente la pienezza
del suo concetto. Come moto di reazione immediata occorreva allora, oltreché
circoscrivere le proprie pre tese conoscitive ponendosi su un piano risolutamente
pragmatico, assur gere ad una più compiuta presa di coscienza storica e
conciliare la filoso fia con una mentalità scientificamente educata. Solo,
cioè, il confronto con una seria problematica scientifica (la quale Filiasi
Carcano vedeva realizzata nell'ottica positivista dello sperimentalismo
aliottiano) avreb be potuto segnare per la filosofia l'avvento di una più
matura riflessione intorno alle proprie dinamiche interne e ai propri genuini
compiti critici. E a questo scopo parve a Filiasi Carcano, fin dai suoi studi
d'esor dio, singolarmente soccorrevole proprio l'opera di Edmund Husserl. Scri
ve Angiolo Maros Dell'Oro: A un certo punto si intromise Husserl. Filiasi
Carcano pensò, o sperò, che là fenomenologia sarebbe stata la ' scienza delle
scienze', capace di indicargli la via zu den Sachen selbsf, per dirla con le
parole del suo fondatore. Da allora è stata invece per lui l'enzima patologico
di una problematica acuta 58. Sùbito rifiutata, in realtà, come idealismo
metafisico, quale eira frettolo samente spacciata in certe grossolane versioni
del tempo (non esclusa, lo ^bbiamo visto,.quella del suo, maestro), la
fenomenologia viene aggredita alla radice dal giovane studioso, con una cura e
un rigore filologico — i quali pure riscontreremo in altri suoi coetanei —
giustificabili solo con l'urgenza di una richiesta culturale cui l'ambiente
nostrano non poteva evidentemente soddisfare. Non è un caso che Filiasi Carcano
insista, fin dal suo primo articolo dedicato ad Husserl, sul valore della fenomeno
logia, ad un tempo, emblematico, nel quadro d'insieme della filosofia
contemporanea, e liberatorio rispetto al giogo dei tradizionali dogmi
idealistici che i giovani, soprattutto in Italia, si sentivano gravare sulle
spalle ". contemporanea, pref. di A. Aliotta, Roma, Libreria Editrice
Perrella, Cf. Il pensiero scientifico
ìtt Italia 'Creiriòria, Màngiarotti Editore, 1963, p. 108. 39 Cfr. P. Filiasi
Cartario/ Da Carierò'ad H«w&f/,:« Ricerche filoSofìche », In piena
coscienza, — scriverà l'autore — se abbiamo voluto scio gliere l'esperienza da
una necessaria interpretazione idealistica, non è stato per forzarla nuovamente
nei quadri di una metafisica esistenziale, ma per ridare ad essa, secondo lo
schietto spirito della fenomenologia, tutta la sua libertà 60. Tale schiettezza,
corroborata da un carattere decisamente antisistema tico e dal recupero di una
vitale esigenza descrittiva, avrebbe consentito lo schiudersi di un nuovo,
vastissimo territorio di indagine, sospeso tra constatazione positivistica e
determinazione metafisica, ma capace, al tem po stesso, di metter capo ad un
positivismo di grado superiore e ad un più autentico pensare metafisico. Si
trattava, in sostanza, non tanto di dedurre i caratteri di una nuova positività
oppure di rifondare una me- tafisica, quanto piuttosto di guadagnare un più
saldo punto d'osserva zione dal quale far spaziare sul multiverso
esperienziale il proprio sguar do fenomenologicamente addestrato. È in questo
punto che la fenome nologia, riabilitando l'intuizione in quanto fonte
originaria di autorità (Rechtsquelle), operando in base al principio
dell'assenza di presupposti e offrendo i quadri noetico-noematici per la
sistemazione effettiva del suo programma di ricerca, veniva ad innestarsi sul
tronco dello sperimenta lismo di stampo aliottiano, che Filiasi Carcano aveva
assimilato a Napoli negli anni del suo apprendistato filosofia). Il ritorno '
alle cose stesse * predetto dalla fenomenologia non solo manteneva intatta la
coscienza cri tica rimanendo al di qua di ogni soglia metafisica, ma anche e
più che mai serviva a ribadire il carattere scientifico e descrittivo della
filosofia. In un passo del 1941 si possono scorrere, a modo di riscontro, i
punti di un vero e proprio manifesto sperimentalista: Descrivere la nostra
esperienza nel mondo con l'aiuto della critica più raffi nata; cercare di
raccordarne i vari aspetti in sintesi sempre più vaste e più com prensive,
esprimenti, per cosi dire, gradi diversi della nostra conoscenza del mon do;
non perdere mai il senso profondo della problematicità continuamente svol-
gentesi dal corso stesso della nostra riflessione; infine stare in guardia
contro tutte le astrazioni che rischiano di alterare e disperdere il ritmo
spontaneo della vita: sono questi i principali motivi dello sperimentalismo e
(...) al tempo stesso, i modi mediante i quali esso va incontro alle più
attuali esigenze logiche e metodologiche del pensiero contemporaneo61. D'altro
canto, si diceva, non è neppure precluso a questo program- *° P. Filiasi
Carcano, Crisi della civiltà, cit., p. 138. 61 P. Filiasi Carcano,
Antimetafisica e sperimentalismo, Roma, Perrella ma un esito trascendente, e a
fenderlo possibile sarà ancora una volta, in virtù della sua cruciale natura
teoretica, proprio l'atteggiamento feno menologico. Scrive Filiasi Carcano: In
realtà, il dilemma tra una scienza che escluda l'intuizione e una intui zione
che escluda la scienza, non c'è che su di un piano realistico ma non su di un
piano fenomenologicamente ridotto: su questo piano scienza e intuizione tornano
ad accordarsi, accogliendo una pluralità di esperienze, tutte in un certo senso
le gittime e primitive, ma tutte viste in un particolare atteggiamento di
spirito che sospende ogni giudizio metafisico. È questo, com'io l'intendo, il
modo particola rissimo con cui la filosofia può tornare oggi ad occuparsi di
metafisica. Certo, nella prospettiva husserliana, il problema del trascendens
puro e semplice, che farà da sfondo a tutto il percorso speculativo di Filiasi
Carcano, sembrava rimanere ingiudicato o, almeno, intenzionalmente rin viato
in una sorta di ' al di là ' conoscitivo, Ma in ordine alla missione spirituale
che l'uomo deve poter esplicare nel mondo storico, il metodo fenomenologico
conserva tutta la sua efficacia. Esso —nota Filiasi Carcano nelle ultime pagine
del suo Antimetafisica e spe rimentalismo — certo difficilmente può condurre a
risultati, ma compie per lo meno analisi e descrizioni interessanti, e tanto
più notevoli in quanto tende a sollevare il velo dell'abitudine per farci
ritrovare le primitive intuizioni della vita religiosa 63. Dato questo suo
carattere peculiare e l'orizzonte significativo nel quale viene assunta fin dal
principio, la fenomenologia continuerà a va lere per Filiasi Carcano come
referente teoretico di prim'ordine, accom pagnandolo, con la tensione e la
profondità tipiche delle esperienze fon damentali, in tutti i futuri sviluppi
della sua speculazione. La terza grande area di interesse per il pensiero
hussèrliano negli anni Trenta in Italia, fa capo all'Università.di Torino e si
costituisce prin cipalmente intorno all'attività 4i tre studiosi: il primo,
già incontrato e che, in qualche modo, fa da ponte fra questa e la
neoscolastica mila nese è Carlo Mazzantini; il secondo è Annibale Pastore —ne
parleremo ora — che teneva nell'ateneo torinese la cattedra di filosofia
teoretica; 6- P, Filiasi Corcano,. Crisi.della civiltà,.eit,,. p.., 184.,:; Carcano, Antimetafisica e sperimentalismo,
cit., p. 153. Apparently, David Hilbert was the first to use the prefix
meta(from the Greek over) in the sense we use it in metalanguage, metatheory,
and now metasystem. He introduced the term metamathematics to denote a
mathematical theory of mathematical proof. In terms of our control scheme,
Hilbert's MST has a non-trivial representation: a mapping of proofs in the form
of usual mathematical texts (in a natural language with formulas) on the set of
texts in a formal logical language which makes it possible to treat proofs as
precisely defined mathematical objects. This done, the rest is as usual: the
controlled system is a mathematician who proves theorems; the controlling
person is a metamathematician who translates texts into the formal logical
language and controls the work of the mathematician by checking the validity of
his proofs and, possibly mechanically generating proofs in a computer. The
emergence of the metamathematician is an MST. Since we have agreed not to
employ semantically closed languages, we have to use two different languages in
discussing the problem of the definition of truth and, more generally, any
problems in the field of semantics. The first of these languages is the
language which is "talked about" and which is the subject- matter of
the whole discussion; the definition of truth which we are seeking applies
to the sentences of this language. The second is the language in which we
"talk about" the first language, and in terms of which we wish, in
particular, to construct the definition of truth for the first language. We
shall refer to the first language as "the object-language,"and to the
second as "the meta-language." It should be noticed that these terms
"object-language" and "meta- language" have only a relative
sense. If, for instance, we become inter- ested in the notion of truth applying
to sentences, not of our original object-language, but of its meta-language,
the latter becomes automatically the object-language of our discussion; and in
order to define truth for this language, we have to go to a new
meta-language-so to speak, to a meta- language of a higher level. In this way
we arrive at a whole hierarchy of languages. The vocabulary of the
meta-language is to a large extent determined by previously stated conditions
under which a definition of truth will be considered materially adequate. This
definition, as we recall, has to imply all equivalences of the form (T): (T) X
is true if, and only if, p. The definition itself and all the equivalences
implied by it are to be formulated in the meta-language. On the other hand, the
symbol 'p' in (T) stands for an arbitrary sentence of our
object-language. Let “A(p)** mean “I
assert p between 5.29 and 5.31’*. Then q is “there is a proposition p
such that A(p) and p is fake”. The contradiction emerges from the supposition
that q is the proposition p in question. But if there is a hierarchy of
meanings of the word “false** corresponding to a hierarchy of propositions,
we shall have to substitute for q something more definite, i.e. “there is
a proposition p of order «, such that k{p) and p has falsehood of order
n*\ Here n may be any integer: but whatever integer it is, q will be of
order « + i? and will not be capable of truth or falsehood of order n.
Since I make no assertion of order n, q is false, The hierarchy
must extend upwards indefinitely, but not downwards, since, if it did,
language could never get started. There must, therefore, be a language of
lowest type. I shall define one such language, not the only possible
one.* I shall call this sometimes the “object-language”, sometimes the
“primary language”. My purpose, in the present chapter, is to define
and describe this basic lai^age. The languages which follow in the
hierarchy I shall call secondary, tertiary, and so on; it is to be
understood that each language contains all its predecessors. The
primary language, we shall find, can be defined both logically and
psychologically; but before attempting formal definitions it will be well
to make a preliminary informal explora- tion. It is clear,
from Tarski’s argument, that the words “true” and “false” cannot occur in
the primary language; for these words, as applied to sentences in the
language, belong to the (« -t- language. This does not mean that
sentences in the primary language are neither true nor false, but that,
if “/>” is a sentence in this language, the two sentences “p is true”
and “p is false” belong to the secondary language. This is, indeed,
obvious apart from Tarski’s argument. For, if there is a primary
language, its words must not be such as presuppose the existence of a
language. Now “true” and “false” are words applicable to sentences, and
thus presuppose the existence of language. (I do not mean to deny that a
memory consisting of images, not words, may be “true” or “false”; but
this is in a somewhat different sense, which need not concern us at
present.) In the primary language, therefore, though we can make
assertions, we cannot say that our own assertions or those of others are
either true or false. When I say that we make assertions in
the primary language, I must guard against a misunderstanding, for the
word “assertion” and, since q is not a possible value of p, the
argument that q is also true collapses. The man who says ‘T am telling a
lie of order n” is telling a He, but of order n 4 - I. Other ways of
evading the paradox have been suggested, e.g. by Ramsey, “Foundations of
Mathematics”, p. 48. * My liierarchy of languages is not identical
with Carnap's or Tarski's. Proceeding psychologically, I construct a
language (not the language) fulfilling the logical conditions for the
langu^e of lowest type; I call this the “object-language” or the “primary
language”. In this language, every word “denotes” or “means” a sensible
object or set of such objects, and, when used alone, asserts the sensible
presence of the object, or of one of *9 AN INQUIRY INTO
MEANING AND TRUTH the set of objects, which it denotes or means. In
defining this language, it is necessary to define “denoting” or “meaning”
as applied to object-words, i.e., to the words of this language. Paolo
Filiasi Carcano di Montaltino di Carapelle. Paolo Filiasi Carcano. Paolo
Carcano. Montaltino. Keywords: linguaggio e metafilosofia, semantica, quarto
duca di montaltino, semantica ed esperienza, semantica e fenomenologia, filiasi
carcano, montaltino, carapelle. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Grice e Carapelle” –
The Swimming-Pool Library. Carapelle.
Grice e Carbonara: l’implicatura
conversazionale l’esperienza e la prassi – Cicerone e il pratico -- filosofia
italiana – Luigi Speranza (Potenza). Filosofo Italiano. Grice:
“I like Carbonara; my favourite of his tracts are one on ‘del bello,’ – another
one on ‘dissegno per una filosofia critica dell’esperienza pura: immediatezza e
reflessione’ – but mostly his ‘esperienza e prassi,’ which fits nicely with my
functionalist method in philosophical psychology: there is input (esperienza),
but there is ‘prassi,’ the behavioural output --; I would prefer this to the
tract on the ‘filossofia critica’ since I’m not sure we need ‘reflexion’ to
explain, say, communication – not at least in the way Carbonara does use ‘reflessione,’
alla Husserl. Conseguito il diploma
liceale, si trasferì a Napoli, frequentando la facoltà di filosofia. Ottenuta
la laurea sotto Aliotta, collabora per “Logos”. Insegna a Campobasso, Nocera
Inferiore, Cagliari, Catania, e Napoli.
Con “Disegno d'una filosofia critica dell'esperienza pura”, rifacendosi
alla filosofia kantiana e riprendendo il discorso idealistico ne mette in
rilievo il tentativo fallito di Gentile di dare concretezza all’astratto.
Nell'attualismo, il ritorno all’atto, al fatto, si risolve infatti nell'atto
sempre uguale e sempre diverso del pensare, unica realtà e verità del pensiero
e della storia: «vera storia non è quella che si dispiega nel tempo, ma quella
che si raccoglie nell'eterno atto del pensare».. Il problema secondo C.
anda esaminato riportandolo alla sua origine, cioè al problema del rapporto tra
esperienza e concetto, tra realtà e concetto così come era stato affrontato
dalla filosofia kantiana e che Gentile crede di risolvere stabilendo un rapporto
dialettico tra il concetto e il suo negativo all'interno del concetto stesso.
La soluzione invece era in nuce secondo C. nella sintesi a priori kantiana dove
convivono forma (segnante) e contenuto (segnato) per cui la coscienza è per un
verso forma, contenitore (segnante) di un contenuto (segnato) storico e per un
altro *coincide* col suo contenuto (segnato) in quanto il contenuto (segnato)
non avrebbe realtà al di fuori della forma della coscienza segnante. La
successiva questione si pone considerando oltre il rapporto del pensiero – il
segnante -- con la materia quella collegata all'origine del pensiero stesso.
Ancora una volta Kant intravede la soluzione nella teoria dell' “io penso” che
però va ora intesa non come la struttura logico-metafisica della realtà
storica, ma come la sua struttura psicologica ma *trascendentale* o
"esistenziale", secondo una concezione della "filosofia
dell'esperienza pura" nel senso che l'esperienza coincide col divenire
della vita dello spirito e deve restare indifferente al problema, ch'è
propriamente di natura ontologica, circa la sua dipendenza o indipendenza da
una realtà diversa dal mio spirito. Il rapporto tra pensiero e materia porta C.
ad indagare quello tra filosofia e scienza con “Scienza e filosofia” in
Galilei, in cui sostiene che mentre da un punto di vista filosofico non si può
andare oltre l'ambito dell'autocoscienza (il mio spirito – Il “I am hearing a
noise” di Grice) del cogito cartesiano, al contrario la scienza si basa sulla
necessità di fondarsi sul mondo esterno (nel spirito dell’altro –
intersoggetivita). Forse la soluzione di questa antinomia, sostiene Carbonara,
va ricercata nell'insoddisfazione dello stesso idealismo verso se stesso non potendo rinunciare a se stesso ma neppure
al suo opposto -- nec tecum nec sine te -- solus ipse. Si interessa anche
della filosofia rinascimentale a Firenze. Nota come in quel periodo si fosse
realizzata una fusione tra il cristianesimo e il neo-platonismo così come ad
esempio in Ficino prete cattolico che visse la sua fede come teologia razionale
dando una base filosofica, trascurando la stessa rivelazione, alla sua
spiritualità religiosa: In Ficino, il platonismo si congiunge al cristianesimo
non soltanto sul fondamento di una religiosità profonda da cui il primo appare
permeato, ma anche per una tradizione storica ininterrotta, per cui l'antichissima
saggezza, ripensata da Platone e dai neoplatonici, si ritrova trasfigurata ma
tuttavia persistente nei Padri della Chiesa e nei dottori della Scolastica.
Come apprendiamo dall'Epistolario di Ficino, la sapienza e intesa come un dono
divino e come mezzo per cui l'uomo può elevarsi fino a Dio. Tale principio fu
poi appreso da Pitagora, Eraclito, Platone, Aristotele, i neoplatonici. Riemerse
nella speculazione filosofica ispirata dalla Rivelazione cristiana e si ritrovò
quindi in Agostino. Lo stesso Cicerone figura nella catena dei platonici romani.
Riallacciandosi a quella tradizione e meditando sui testi platonici, Ficino
concepí il disegno, portato a termine di ricostruire su fondamento platonico la
teologia il platonismo vi è considerato come il nucleo essenziale di una
teologia razionale i cui princípi coincidono con quelli della rivelazione. Tale
coincidenza è il principale argomento con cui si riesce a dimostrare
l'eccellenza del cristianesimo rispetto alle altre religioni positive. Del
resto Ficino è disposto ad ammettere che qualsiasi culto, purché esercitato con
animo puro, reca onore e gradimento a Dio. Altre saggi: “L'individuo, i
dividui, e la storia; Scienza e filosofia in Galilei; Esperienza; Umanesimo e
Rinascimento (Catania) Del Bello; Introduzione alla Filosofia (Napoli; Materialismo storico e idealismo critico; Sviluppo
e problemi dell'estetica crociana; I presocratici; Esperienza ed umanesimo
(Napoli) La filosofia di Plotino; “Persona e libertà”; Ricerche di un'estetica
del contenuto”; Esperienza e prassi; Discorso empirico delle arti, Il
platonismo nel Rinascimento. In un momento diverso dalla storica ora presente
offrire in veste italiana alla coltura filosofica del nostro paese il sistema
di dottrina morale secondo i principi della dottrina della scienza di Fichte sarebbe stata
opera già esaurientemente giustificata e dalla grandezza di quel genio
speculativo, e dal vivo crescente interesse del nostro tempo per il suo
originale sistema idealistico-romantico, e dalla capitale importanza che nella
struttura del sistema stesso ha la dottrina morale, e dall’opportunità, quindi,
di agevolare la diretta conoscenza di questa a quanti tra noi non fossero
in grado di leggerla e gustarla nè nella classica (nonostante i suoi
difetti) edizione tedesca dovuta alla pietà filiale di Fichte — divenuta oggi
assai rara, ma di recente lori. Fichte, Das System der Sittenlehre nach leu
Prinzipletl (lev Wìsseuschaftslehre, Jena und Leipzig, Gabler V. il voi. IV
delle Opere complete (Sitmmtliche 1 Werke) di Fichte, edite con assai utili
prefazioni da Eli. Ehm. Fichte (Berlin, Veit e C.), dopo altri tre volumi
di Opere postume (Nachgelasseiie Werlce) apparsi per cura dello stesso
editore a Bonn, ma aggiunti come ultimi agli precedenti. I difetti, che
sono stati rim- fedelmente riprodotta (con tatti i suoi difetti) da Fritz
Me- proverati all’edizione di Fichte figlio, consistono, tra gl’altri —
a parte le critiche riguardanti l’ordinamento generale degli scritti paterni
(sulle quali v. Ravà, Le opere di Fichte, Rivista di Filosofia) — in errori di
stampa, lacune casuali o soppressioni arbitrarie di una o più parole, aggiunte
o trasposizioni di vocaboli, deposizione dei capoversi e punteggiatura non
sempre quali si avrebbe ragione di aspettarsi, ecc. ; donde non poche nè
lievi difficolta per intendere bene e rendere esattamente in altra lingua il
pensiero dell’autore. La qual cosa ci preme far rilevare, anche perchè
non sembri esagerazione, se diciamo che fu lavoro di non poca lena,
sostenuta soltanto dall’interesse per l’opera fiehtiana, quello da noi
compiuto attorno a una traduzione che ci proponemmo eseguire con la più
'scrupolosa fedeltà al testo originale, ma, in pari tempo, curando il più
possibile la chiarezza del contenuto e l’italianità della forma. Al quale
duplice fine ci parve opportuno di riportare tra pa¬ rentesi curve ( ) le
espressioni genuine e più caratteristiche dell’autore, quando il nostro idioma
non si prestava a riprodurle se non inadeguatamente ovvero assumendo un
certo aspetto di stranezza, e di chiudere tra parentesi quadre [ J le
espressioni aggiunte dal tra¬ duttore con intento interpretativo o
dilucidativo. Il lettore, in tal modo, è sempre messo sull’avviso circa i
punti in cui il linguaggio dell’autore è meno trasparente e può giudicare
se talvolta al traduttore — secondo il noto bisticcio - non sia accaduto di
essere involon¬ tariamente il traditore del pensiero tichtiano. TI quale
pensiero riesce tanto più difficile a restituire nella sua forma genuina,
in quanto che esso non solo fu iu continua evoluzione e trasformazione,
ma ebbe dal Fichte, più oratore elio scrittore , le mutevoli formulazioni
occasionali adatte alla predicazione, all’insegnamento e alla polemica, anziché
la stabile struttura definitiva di un’opera d’arte destinata a tramandare ai
posteri il documento autentico di un sistema compiuto; e la Dottrina
inorale, di cui ci occupiamo qui, risente anch’essa, nello stile, del
carattere proprio a quella gran parte delle opere del Fichte, che sono o
riproduzioni o preparazioni, ampiamente elaborate in iscritto, di lezioni
e corsi accademici. Si aggiunga a ciò che la Sit- tenlehre, e nel
contenuto e uella forma, è la continuazione c l’applicazione di quella
Wissetischaflslehre che il Medicus, in una sua monografia dedicata al
Fichte, uou esita a chiamare “ il libro, torse, più difficile che esista
in tutta la letteratura filosofica (sie ist vielleicht das schiiieriijste
Rudi in der yesmnten philósophischen Lucratile) „ (cfr. Grosse Denker, editi a Lipsia, Verlag Quelle dicus — ,
uè nella libera e, proprio nei punti ove H testo è meno chiaro, monca
versione inglese fattane dal Kroeger; (in francese o in altra lingua non ci
risulta sia stata mai tradotta, il che non ha certo contribuito ad
accrescerle et Meyer, senza «lata, <la E. vou Aster) — della
Dottrina della Scienza abbiamo iu italiano la traduzione fattane da A.
Tilouer (Bari, Laterza) — j si noti, inline, che il Fichte figlio
sconsi¬ gliava il Bouillier dal tradurre in altra lingua quelle, tra le
opere del padre, che non avessero un contenuto popolare e fossero
scritte in una rigorosa forma scientifico-filosofica — ecco le sue parole.
Te conseille de ne pas traduire les oeuvres scientifiques proprement
dites, «:t d’ uno forme philosophique rigoureuse. 11 est à peu près
impossi- ble de les traduire «lana votre luugne; il faudrait les
transformer et eu changer l’exposition. Uue traduction littérale mirait
le doublé iu- convénient de taire violence à votre 1 angue, et de ne pas
reproduire le veritable esprit du système. „ (cfr. MéUiode pour arrivar à
la tir bica heureuse par Udite, traditit par M. Bouillier, aver, uno
Introdaction par Fichte le File, Paris, Ladrango): e si sarà, speriamo,
meglio disposti a giudicare con qualche indulgenza le manchevolezze anche da
noi sentite, ma che non riuscimmo ad evitare, so pur erano evitabili, iu
questa nostra traduzione, in cui la lettera doveva più che mai venir
suggerita e giustificata dallo spirito della dot- liiua tradotta, onde ci
s imponeva di continuo la necessità di ripen- norr e, per quanto ci fu
possibile, di rivivere il pensiero del Fichte. 11 Jmc Gotti*. Fichte,
IVerke, Auswahl in sechs Btinden (mit nielli ci en Bildnisxen Fichtes ),
edizione e introduzione di FimtzMediCUS, Leipzig. Non intendiamo detrarre
nulla alle lodi giustamente! tributate d’ ogni parte a questa nuova
edizione delle principali opere del Fichte, condotta di recente a termine
e salutata nel mondo fìloso- tico come un importante e lieto avvenimento,
soprattutto per il contributo che porterà alla diffusione e alla conoscenza
della dottrina lichtiana; dobbiamo soltanto osservare che, almeno per
quanto concerne .1 System der Sittenlehre, di cui diamo qui la
traduzione, la collazione del testo nelfediz. del Medicus non presenta
assolutamenta nulla di diverso e nulla di migliorato, rispetto a quella curata
da Lm. Era. Fichte ; se mai, anzi, qualche errore di stampa in più ;
onde essa non ci è stata di nessun aiuto. Tanto per la verità. The
Science of Etìlica as based on thè Science of knowledge by Ioh. Gotti.
Fichte, tradnz. di A. E. Kroeoeh. edita da Harris (London, Kegau Paul, Treucli,
Trubner et Co., Ltd.). il numero dei lettovi). Dorante, poi, l’attuale
immane cataclisma bellico che sì inaspettatamente ha tutta Europa scon¬
volto e le nostre coscienze profondamente turbato, in questa tragica ora
chè tigne il mondo di sanguigno, perchè proprio nella terra classica
dell’idealismo filosofico, sfrenatasi l'ebbrezza mistica di una supposta
superiorità di razza e di coltura, prevalso un malinteso spirito di egemonia
mondiale, straripata la prepotenza del militarismo, scatenatisi gli
istinti e le cupidigie più basse, la civiltà sembra inabis¬ sata nel buio
e la scienza si è trasformata, con scempio di ogni leggo umana e divina,
in strumento di barbarie, rinnegando quel carattere umano che della scienza è e
deve essere la vera, sovrana, immortale bellezza, in questa im¬
mensa mina di tutta la scala dei valori, due forti ragioni di più —
contrariamente a quanto potrebbe parere a prima vista — c’inducono
all’opera stessa: da un lato mostrare con quale serenità, imparzialità e
altezza di vedute noi ita¬ liani, che più volte nella storia fummo
maestri di civiltà, sappiamo riconoscere, pur quando gli animi nostri
siano agitati da moti sentimentali avversi, il possente contributo
di pensiero e di moralità che gli spiriti geniali, a qualun¬ que nazione
appartengano, hanno recato alla coltura ; dal- 1’ altro fornire, con la
divulgazione delle dottrine morali di un filosofo tedesco come il Fichte
— da cui più spe¬ cialmente con grave errore si vorrebbe derivare il
pangermanismo — una prova di più della radicale deviazione che le
fiualità della Germania odierna, rappresentata dai Nietzsche, dai
Treitschke, dai Bernhardi, dai Chamberlain, dai Woltmaun, segnano
rispetto alle idealità profondamente umane e universali rifulgenti in
tutta la letteratura e in tutta la filosofia della Germania classica,
rappresentata da un Leibniz, da un Lessing, da un Herder, da un
Gboethé, da uno Schiller, da un Kant e dallo stesso Fichte. Perchè
anche il Fichte, al pari del suo grande predecessoro Kant — il filosofo della
pace a cui Con esattozza soltanto relativa egli fu contrapposito come il
filosofo della guerra, aspirava, pur con tutte le esagerazioni es¬
senzialmente teutoniche del suo pensiero, al regno della ra¬ gione, al
Vemunftstaat, basato sul riconoscimento del valore dello spirito quale unico,
vero e assoluto valore, e costituito da personalità autonome e responsabili che
devono svolgersi soltanto entro le linee di un ordinamento razio¬
nale del tutto. Che se la magnificazione e la glorificazione della lingua
e del popolo tedesco a cui il Fichte assurge, a cominciare dai Caratteri
fondamentali dell’età presente -- Revue de Métaphysique et de Morale, l’importante
articolo di. Basch, L’Allemagne classique et le pangermanisme. V. inoltre Sante
Ferra ni, Fra la guerra e V Università (Seatri Ponente); in questo
di¬ scorso inaugurale dell'anno accademico all’università di Genova,
l'A., dopo avere stigmatizzato con indignata parola “ la nuova sofìstica,
più audace e più operativa dell'antica, die in Germania per decenni
lavorò a eccitare gli spiriti e a iriebbriarsi nel sogno del dominio
mondiale a qualunque patto,,, “ le iniquità senza pari, corruttrici,
vigliacche, brutali, e le violazioni dei patti più solenni che quel
popolo sostituisce al valore degli eroi pagani, alla cavalleria del
guerriero medievale „ e u la volontà sinistra che informò i metodi alla subdola
preparazione dell'immane delitto, invita a distinguere in'quella nazione
lo opere dei grandi avi e quelle dei uepoti : “ Quali e quante pagine
troveremmo nei primi, atto a rintuz- i zare, a riprovare, a distruggere
le smodate ambizioni dell’ oggi ! e quanti successori vedremmo
rinnegati!, e, per antitesi, si ferma a illuminare nella loro sublime
purezza le figure del Kant e a» del Fichte. Grundziige dea
gegenviirtigen Zeilullers (Sanimi!. Werke). Queste conferenze si
direbbero quasi altrettanti aifreschi di filosofia della storia, di cui
lo Herder aveva dato il mo. sino ai Discorsi alla, nazione tedesca (*),
attraverso la serie di opuscoli politici intermedi, hanno potuto
giustamente apparire come la radice del pangermanismo, non ne segue
perciò che il Pielite stesso fosse un pangermanista. u Come ! esclama il
Basoh, pangermanista quel Fichte che parla a Berlino, ancora occupata dai
francesi, dinanzi a spie francesi, dopo Auerstftdt e Iena, dopo Eylau e
Fried iand, dopo quel trattato di Tilsit di cui sappiamo le stipulazioni
draconiane ! Chi non vede che appunto perchè il suo popolo era asservito,
umiliato, esposto a essere cancellato dalla carta d Europa con un tratto di
penna del- l’onnipossente imperatore francese, e appunto perchè la
Germania era stata spezzettata, la Prussia smembrata, egli ha, per
legittima reazione e con sflflrzo ammirevole, esaltato, idealizzato,
divinizzato quel popolo, opponendo alla realtà la visione magnifica di un
avvenire che a lui stesso appare problematico ? Le Reden sono un’ utopia ; un’
utopia cento volte quel Germano autoctono, quel Mutterland, quella
lingua madre; e il Fichte lo sapeva bene e 1’ ha dello, e in cui il
Ciclite, con una miscela di nazionalismo mistico o di cosmopolitismo
umanitario, tratteggia a grandi periodi l’evoluzione dei genere umano
dalle sue più lontane origini sino ai suoi più remoti destini futuri,
passaudo attraverso le cinque età: ni dell’ innocenze o ragiono
istintiva, b) dell’ autorità o ragione coercitiva, c) del peccato o
ribellione contro la ragione sia istintiva sia coercitiva, d) della giustizia o
arte della ragione, e) della santità o scienza della ragione. Reden an die
deutsche Nailon (Summit. Werke). Segnaliamo, tra gli altri, i Discorsi ai
combattenti tedeschi all’inizio della campagna (Reden an die deutschen Kricgev
zu All funge des Feldzuges) (Stillanti. 11 erke t VII) e i dialoghi
patriottici, Il patriottismo e il suo contrario (Dei Patriotismus und
sein Gegentheil), (Sananti. Werke, Nacliyel. Werke). det-.fo egli st.esso.
Questa lingua, questo popolo egli li póne non come già esistenti, ma come
qualcosa che bisogna creare, se si voleva salvare la nazione tedesca dalla
rovina totale e impedire che fosse radiata dal numero dei popoli
\ilidipendenti. Questa lingua e questo popolo non erano una realtà, ma un
ideale -- o meglio un imperativo. Del lèsto non abbiamo avuto anche noi,
nella nostra letteratura, un (fenomeno analogo ai Discorsi alia nazione
tedesca, in <\\i<\PRIMATO MORALE E VIRILE [SIC] DEGL’ITALIANI, in
cui, invertendo, il puuto di vista fichtiano, GIOBERTI costrue una
filosofa della storia non meno utopistica, ma che pur tanti petti sdpsse,
taute anime accese negli anni più belli del nostro riscatto? Che se poi
il saggio eloquente ed essenzialmente. opera di fede di Fichte sia inteso non
alla lettera ma nel suo profondo significato filosofico, spogliato dei
suoi particolari riferimenti spaziali e temporali e considerato sub specie
aeternitatis, allora non solo oltrepassa il valore di ubo scritto
d’occasione, ma si eleva all’altezza di un’ opera sublime, perennemente
suggestiva di nobili pensieri e di eroiche azioni. L’ autore, sempre
ispirandosi a quel suo idealismo immanente, che egli contrappone a [Li
il leit-motiv proprio di tutta la filosofia fichtiana porre il dover
essere ossia 1’idealo come condizione creatrice e ragione sufficiente e
spiegazione finale dell’ u essere ossia del reale. Se il Kant potè dirsi
il Copernico dolla filosofia, in quanto trasferì il punto di vista del
problema filosofico dall' oggetto al soggetto, dall'essere al conoscere, Fichte
può dirsi anch’egli il Copernico della filosofia, in quanto spostò di
nuovo quel punto di vista dal conoscere al fare, dall’essere al
dover-esserc : la vera realtà, il vero assoluto sta per lui nell’ideale,
nel dovere. Rivista di Filosofa. A. Faggi, Il “ Primato „ del Gioberti e i
“ Discorsi alla nazione tedesca „ del Fichte. qualsivoglia dogmatismo,
specialmente se materialistico, sostiene in sostanza che non c’è
possibilità di filosofia e di poesia, di religione e di educazione, di
libertà e di progresso, se non là dove lo spirito crei o trovi in sè, e
in nessun modo attinga dal di fuori, il principio propulsore e
direttivo di tutta l’esistenza. Questo idealismo immanent/ egli chiama
filosofia tedesca, ossia viva, di fronte a qualsiasi filosofia straniera,
ossia morta. E che intende egli, per tedesco ? Non occorre ricordare che secondo il Fichte
vi sono dué sistemi filosofici rigorosamente conseguenti, ciascuno dal
suo punto di vista: il dogmatismo, l’ idealismo. Ul^cio della filosofia è
spiegare l’esperienza, la quale è costituita dalle rappresentazioni delle cose.
Ora si può a) o far derivare la rappresentazione dalle cose, come fa il
dogma¬ tismo, b) o far derivare la cosa dalla rappresentazione, cóme fa
l’idealismo. Lo scegliere l’una piuttosto che l’altra delle dué vie
possibili dipende dal carattere individuale. Un sistema filosofico —
basterebbero queste parole a mostrare quanta fede pratica, quanta iniziativa
personale ed energia spirituale Fichte mettesse nella sua filosofia e
quanta ne esigesse da chi questa filosofia voglia comprendere — non è uno
strumento inanimato che si possa a piacimento possedere o alienare : esso
scaturisce dal più profondo dell’anima umana: “ Iras far eine Philosophie
man wàihle, hangt... davon ab, was man far ein Mensch ist: demi ein
philosophisclies System ist nicht ein todter Hausrath , dea man ablegen
oder abnehmen honnte, irte es mis beliebte, sonderà es ist beseelt durch
die Seele des Menschen, der es ìiat. „ (Erste Ein leitung in die
Wissensehaftsle'ire , Scimmtl. IVerke). La scelta sarà diversa secondo
che prevarrà in noi il sentimento dell’indipendenza e dell’attività o il
sentimento della dipendenza e della passi¬ vità; un carattere flaccido
per natura, ovvero rilassato e incurvato dalla schiavitù dello spirito,
dal lusso raffinato o dalla vanità, non s’innalzerà mai all’idealismo: 11
ein von Notar schiaffar oder durch Geistesknechtschaft gelehrten Luxus
and Eitelkeit erschla/fler und gekrùmmler Chardhter toird sich nie zum
Idealismus erheben. E ciò, indipendentemente dalle ragioni teoretiche che
anch’esse dànno un’incontestabile superiorità di filosofia
esaurientemente persuasiva all’idealismo di fronte all’in9ufficiente e
assurdo dogmatismo. Nel settimo discorso, in cui si approfondisce il .concotto
àe]Y originarie là, e germanicità di un popolo l’autore stesso ha cura di far
rilevar^ u con chiarezza peretta „ ciò che in tutto il suo libro ha intesò per
tedesco (was uoir in unsrer bishcrigen Schilderung unter Deutschen
verstanden haben). “ Il vero e proprio punto di divisione — egli scrive — sta
in questo: o si crede che nell’uomo ci sia qualcosa di assolutamente primo e
originario, si crede nella libertà, nell’infinito miglioramento e nell’eterno
progresso della nostra specie, oppure si nega tutto ciò e si crede di
vedere e comprendere chiaramente che è vero tutto il contrario. Coloro
che vivono creando e pro¬ ducendo il nuovo, coloro che, se non hanno
questa sorte, almeno abbandonano decisamente quel che non ha valore
(das Nichtige) e vivono aspettando che da qualche parte la corrente della
vita originaria venga a rapirli con sè, coloro che, non essendo neppure
tanto avanti, almeno presentono la verità, e non l’odiano o non la paventano,
ma l’amano: tutti costoro sono uomini originari e, considerati come
popolo, sono un popolo vergine (Urvolk), sono il popolo per eccellenza,
sono tedeschi. Coloro, invece, che si rassegnano a essere un che di
secondo e derivato e chiaramente concepiscono e riconoscono sè stessi come
tali, tali sono in realtà, e sempre più tali divengono in forza di
questa loro credenza; essi sono un’appendice della vita che una volta
prima di loro o accanto a loro viveva per impulso proprio, essi sono
l’eco che la roccia rimanda di [S’intitola: Noch tiefere Erfassung der
Ursprunglichkeit utid Deutscheit eines Volkes (Sammtl. Werke, nella
trad. ita!. Burich, Palermo, Sandron). una voce già spenta, e,
considerati come popolo, non sono un popolo vergine, anzi di fronte a
questo sono stranieri ed estranei (Fremete und Andando-) Ecco,
dunque, che cosa significa: tedesco! non già il tedesco considerato
Ine et nune, ma il simbolo di un tipo ideale, onde il Fichte,
continuando, aggiunge: u Chiunque crede nella spiritualità, nella libertà
e nel progresso di questa spiritualità mediante la libertà, egli,
dovunque sia nalo, qualunque lingua parli (wo es auch geboren seg und in
welcher Sprache cs reile) e dei nostri, appartiene a noi, ci seguirà;
chiunque, invece, crede nella stasi generale, nella decadenza, nel
ricorso circolare e pone a governo del mondo una natura morta, egli,
dovunque sia nato, qualunque^lingua parli, è non-tedesco (undeutscll), è
per noi uno straniero, ed è desiderabile che quanto prima si stacchi
completamente da noi. I Discorsi alla nazione tedesca, dunque, soltanto
occasionalmente si rivolgono al popolo germanico, mentre nella loro
profonda verità si rivolgono a tutti i popoli moderni, a tutti gli uomini
che hanno fede nella libera spiritualità, di qualunque paese essi siano,
additando a ciascuno la via sulla quale si può servire alla propria
patria particolare e insieme alla gran patria comune, si può essere a
un tempo nazionalista e cosmopolita, perchè gl’ interessi supremi ed
essenziali dell’umanità sono sempre e dovunque gli stessi. Ma
a dimostrare in modo* 1 definitivo quanto l’autore dei Discorsi sia
alieno dal cosidetto pangermanismo sta il [ Reden an die deutsche Nalioti
(Stimmll. Werke), il nerette delle parole " dovunque sia nato ecc. „
è nostro discorso decimoterzo, donde trae maggior luce il significato di
tutti gli altri. Si direbbe che i pangermanisti, ai quali piace farsi
forti dell’auLorità del uostro filosofo, si siano di proposito arrestati
dinanzi a questa sua arringa, che pure è il punto culminante verso cui
tendono le rimanenti e che può dirsi un vero catechismo
antimperialistico. Tutto ciò che all’imperialismo della Germania odierna
sembra l’ideale che essa sarebbe chiamata ad attuare: il possesso di
colonie, l’esclusiva libertà dei mari, il commercio e l’industria mondiali,
le guerre di aggressione e ili conquista, la barbarie scientificamente
organizzata, le vessazioni sui paesi invasi, la visione di una monarchia
universale, l’egemonia assoluta, vi ò rappresentato come odioso e
insensato. Ammettiamo pure che il Fichte abbia combattuto questa
criminosa megalomania perchè essa s’incarna sotto i suoi occhi nella
Francia napoleonica; non è men vero, però, che l’ideale opposto, a lui
caro, rispondeva in modo reciso a tutta una concezione politica che fa di lui
il figlio e il rappresentante più genuino della rivoluzione francese.
La sua vita, i suoi scritti di filosofia pratica e di filosofia
della storia nte sono prova ampia, piena, sicura, e se anche su¬
birono modificazioni, queste riguardano non il suo pen¬ siero e i suoi
sentimenti, i quali in fondo rimasero sempre gli stessi, ma le mutate
circostanze esteriori, il mutato aspetto della Francia, divenuta, da
repubblicana e liberatrice, imperialistica e liberticida. Nato popolo — figlio
di un povero tessitore, infatti, comincia la vita avviandosi al
mestiere paterno e guardando le oche — , egli sempre po- [Kedeii
ecc. (Sàmmll. I Verke) polo è rimasto nel più profondo dell’anima, per
quanto ricca e forte sia divenuta poi la sua coltura, a qualunque
sommità della scienza, dell’eloquenza e della gloria siasi inalzato il
sùo genio. Già sin dagl’inizi della sua fama si rivela un democratico
ardente, giacobino quasi, irrecouciliabile avversario di ogni pregiudizio
religioso, politico e nazionalistico. Subito dopo la sua Rivendicazione
della libertà di pensiero dai principi d'Europa die /ino allora l'acecano
oppressa, egli, nei suoi Contributi alla rettifica dei giudizi del
pubblico sulla rivoluzione francese, plaude ai principi dell’89 col fervido
entu¬ siasmo d’un uomo la cui classe usciva redenta da quel grande
atto di liberazione sociale, e aterina la sua fede nella rivoluzione stessa,
proclama i diritti del popolo, frusta a sangue il militarismo, maledice
alle guerre mosse da interessi o da capricci dinastici, e lancia contro
principi e monarchie assolute i primi strali di quell’eloquenza appassionata
che fa di lui forse il più grande oratore della Germania. Zuruckfarderung
der Denkfreihe.it von den Filrsten Europas, die eie bisher unterdriikten
(Sdmmtl. If erkeI). Beitriige zar Berichtigung der Urtheile des PubVcuins
iiber die franzòsische Revolution (Sananti. Werke). In queste sue
prime opere politiche, elio per lungo tempo furono messe all’indice in
tutta la Germania, Fichte mostra che la ri¬ voluzione francese fu il
prodotto necessario della libertà del pensiero, che la persona morale ha
il diritto di elevarsi contro lo Stato, e che l’uomo uscito dalle mani
della natura è autonomo, e che è inalienabile il diritto dei cittadini di
moditicare la costituzione, di uscire da un’associazione politica per
crearne una nuova, di fare ciò che ap¬ punto si chiama una rivoluzione.
Fine ultimo degli uomini ò la coltura di tutti per la libertà, ma
le monarchie, egli afferma, invece di lavorare al perfezionamento dei
sudditi, sono state centro di depravazione morale. Come hanno inteso, infatti,
i sovrani la coltura dei sudditi a loro affidati? Sotto forma di
educazione alla guerra; perchè, dicono essi, la guerra coltiva. Qra, è
vero che la guerra Il Fondamento del Diritto naturale secondo i
principi inalza le nostre anime a sentimenti e azioni eroiche, al
disprezzo del pericolo e della morte, alla noncuranza dei beni
continuamente esposti ni saccheggio, a una simpatia per tutto ciò che ha
aspetto umano, perchè i pericoli e i dolori sopportati in comune
stringono di più gli altri a noi. Ma non crediate di vedere in queste mie
parole un panegirico della vostra follia bellicosa, o fors’anco l’umile
preghiera che l’umanità dolente v’indirizzerebbe perchè non cessiate dal
decimarla con guerre sanguinose. La guerra non inalza all’eroismo se non
le anime già per natura eroiche; incita, invece, le anime poco nobili
alla ruberia e all'oppressione della debolezza priva di difesa. La
guerra crea a un tempo eroi e vili rapinatori, ma aitimi ’ delle due
specie quale in numero maggiore ? „ (cfr. Sàmmtl. Werke). Nel
fondare e governare i loro Stati i monarchi mirano a rafforzare la loro
onnipotenza all’interno, ad allargare le loro frontiere all’esterno: due
fini, questi, tutt’altro che favorevoli alla coltura dei loro sudditi. 1
monarchi pretendono di essere i custodi del necessario equilibrio delle
forze europee; ma questo fine, se è il loro, è perciò anche quello dei
loro popoli? “ Credete proprio — egli domanda ai principi tedeschi — che
l'artista o il contadino lorenese o alsaziano abbia molto a cuore di
veder menzionata la propria città o il proprio villaggio, nei manuali di
geografia, sotto la rubrica dell’impero germanico, e che por ottenere ciò
butti via lo scalpello o l’aratro? Il pericolo della guerra, ossia di ciò
che lede e ferisce a morte la coltura, ultimo fine dell’evoluzione umana,
deriva unicamente dalla monarchia assoluta, la (piale tende per necessità
alla monarchia universale. Sopprimete questa causa, e tutti i mali che ne
derivano scompariranno anch’essi, e le guerre terribili e i preparativi
della guerra, ancor più terribili, non saranno più necessari. Più oltre,
poi, troviamo il Fichte antisemita e antimilitarista: antisemita contro
quegli ebrei “ che sono refrattari ad assimilarsi alle nazioni in mezzo a
cui pluvi vono antimilitarista contro l’esercito del suo tempo “ che met¬
teva il proprio onore nella propria umiliazione e trovava nell’impunità per le
sue angherie contro i borghesi e i contadini un compenso ai pesi del
proprio stato. E continua. Il più
brutale semibarbaro crede acquistare con la divisa militare una
superiorità sul contadino timido e spaventato, che sopporta le sue
prepotenze e i suoi insulti per non essere, per soprammercato, anche
bastonato.Il giovincello che può vantare più antenati, ma non certo più
coltura, considera la propria spada come un titolo sufficiente per
guardare dall’alto e con disprezzo il commerciante, l’uomo di scienza e
l’uomo di Stato. \Vilt — della Dottrina della scienza e Lo Stato
commerciale chiuso contengono auch’essi una filosofia poli¬ tica che,
scaturita interamente, oltreché dal pensiero kan¬ tiano, dai principi
della rivoluzione francese, supera quel pensiero e questi principi per le
conseguenze economiche che egli fu il primo a trarne, e approda
aH’atfermazione di un diritto dei popoli e di un diritto dei cittadini
del mondo (Volker- und Weltbnrgerrechl) e alla necessità di un’a¬
nione di popoli ( Vdlkerbund) — ben diversa da uno Stato di popoli
(Volkerstaat) — che garantisca la giustizia e porti gradatamele alla Pace
perpetua (zUm ewigen Friede) Grundlage des Natnrrechte nach Prinzipien dee
ìVissenscliafls Pin e (Siimmil. Werhe, IH). Ber geschlossene
Handelsstaat (StillimiI. Werhe, III). Vediue- auclie la traduz. ita!, di
tì. B. P., Dell'intimo ordinamento di uno Stato ec<\, Lugano, e
l’altra (anonima) Lo Stato secondo ragione e lo Stato commerciale chiuso,
Torino, Bocca. Ecco, sommariamente, la dottrina politico-economica del
Fichte: La radice più profonda dell’Io è l’Io pratico o la libera
volontà; e poiché alla libera volontà di eiasenu individuo si contrappone
quella degli altri, nasce una libera azione reciproca tra lo diverse
volontà individuali, per regolare la quale gli uomini'hanno concluso il
con¬ tratto sociale da cui è uscito lo Stato. Nello Stato il potere
legisla¬ tivo appartiene alla comunità dei cittadini; l’esecutivo può
essere affidato sia all’elezione (democrazia), sia alla cooptazione
(aristocrazia), sia all’elezioue e alla cooptazione insieme
(aristodemocrazia). Tutte queste forme di governo sono egualmente
legittime, purché vi sia accanto a esse uu altro potere ìndipendente,
VSforato, il quale decida dei casi in cui il potere esecutivo, essendo
caduto in errori o colpe, deve risponderne dinanzi alla comunità. Oltre a
questo contratto sociale-politico, il Fichte, oltrepassando la prudenza
borghese di Kant, il quale ammetteva come legittima l’ineguaglianza
economica accanto all’eguaglianza politica, istituisce un contratto
sociale-economico (Eitjenthumverlrag) egli proclama originari in ciascun
uomo il diritto alla vita e il diritto al lavoro, e di fronte alla
proprietà privata (prodotti del suolo coltivato, bestiame, case, mobili, ecc.)
dichiara proprietà dello Stato ciò che la natura produce da sola e ciòcia' la
col- sino all’alt,imo anno della sua vita, nelle lezioni sulla Z>n/- letti vitti produce meglio del singolo
individuo (miniere, foreste, grandi industrie, seryizì pubblici, ecc.).
Per l’elaborazione dei prodotti na¬ turali richiede corporazioni di
competenza tecnica, e sulla qualità o quantità dei prodotti industriali
il diritto di sorveglianza Ha parte dello Stato. Donde segue la necessità
che da uu lato i cittadini ri- uuuzino alla libertà industriale, e
dall’altro si stabilisca uno scambio armonico tra i prodotti naturali e i
prodotti industriali, essendo reciprocamente gli uni indispensabili alla
produzione degli altri. Per questo scambio si è formata la classe
speciale dei commercianti. Per impe¬ dire ai produttori di elevare ad
arbitrio i prezzi dei prodotti, lo Stato accumula iu magazzini generali,
mediaute prestazioni in natura degli agricoltori e prestazioni d’opera
degli artigiani, i frutti della terra e gli strumenti del lavoro, si che
i prezzi veugouo livellati. Per obbligare i produttori a vendere, lo stato
mette iu circolazione la moneta, la quale rappresenta la somma di
ricchezza che può essere venduta, e rende possibile a uu produttore di
cedere i suoi prodotti anche in un momento iu cui non gli occorra ancora
di prendere in cambio altri prodotti. E atiinehè sia garantita la
proprietà e regolata la circolazione dei prodotti e mantenuto l’equilibrio tra
agricoltori, industriali e commercianti — equilibrio che sarebbe turbato
dall’importazione di prodotti stranieri, dei quali i cittadini debbono
assolutamente poter fare a meno - è necessario che lo Stato vieti tutti
gli accessi ai commercianti di fuori e ai contrabbandieri di dentro, che
sia cioè uno Stato commerciale rigorosamente chiuso. Il Fichte si
ripromette le conseguenze più vantaggiose per la moralità del “ popolo
fortunato „ elio adotti la perfetta chiusura commerciale e viva soltanto
di ciò che ò prodotto e fabbricato dal paese, venduto e consumato nel
paese (cfr. Der geschlossene llandelsstaat, Sàmmll. ÌVerke), e conclude che di
li innanzi sarà la scienza il miglior legame intemazionale tra tutte le nazioni
divenute Stati chiusi : perché “ nessuno Stato della terra, dopoché il
sistema politico-economico dianzi descritto sia diventato universale, e
siasi fonduta pace perpe¬ tua tra i popoli, avrà il menomo interesse a
celare ad altri le proprie scoperte, giacché ogni Stato potrà servirsene
soltanto all’interno per il proprio sviluppo e non già per opprimere gli
altri Stati o acqui¬ stare una qualsivoglia preponderauza su di essi.
Nulla, quindi, impedirà la libera comunicazione tra i dotti e gli artisti
di tutte le nazioni: di 11 innanzi i giornali, invece di guerre e
battaglie, trattati di pace e di alleanza, conterranno soltanto notizie
dei progressi della scienza, delle nuove invenzioni, del perfezionamento
della legislazione e degli trina dello Sialo, tenute a Berlino,
proprio quando la Prussia si preparava a quella guerra d’indipendenza che
egli tanto si era adoperato a suscitare, si domanda ancora una volta
quale sia la guerra legittima (der Wahrhafte Krieg) e risponde: Una
guerra è giusta soltanto qualora la libertà e l’indipendenza nazionale
di un popolo siano attaccati; gli uomini, per compiere il loro
destino, devono formare società libere, e uno Stato non ha valore se non
in quanto può contribuire all’avvento del regno universale della libertà
e della ragione. A questa guerra veramente popolare vuole il Fichte nelle
sue le- ordinamenti di governo; e. ogni Stato si affretterà ad arricchirsi
delle scoperte degli altri popoli.
Nè si ha a temere, del resto, dalla chiusura commerciate dei
singoli Stati il loro isolamento, perchè i rispettivi sudditi, iu quanto
cittadini del mondo (Weltbiirger), circolano liberamente da uno Stato
all’altro, portando seco i diritti inerenti alla persona e alla
proprietà; occorre anzi, per questo, una legislazione comune che
garantisca tali diritti e punisca l’ingiu¬ stizia commessa dal cittadino
di uno Stato a danno del cittadino di un altro Stato. I diversi Stati,
inoltre, fanno contratti, concludono trattati e sono rappresentati gli
uni presso gli altri da ambasciatori. Nel caso che uno degli Stati
contraenti violi il contratto, la guerra è 1’ unico mezzo per punirlo di
questa violazione. Ma ogni guerra è aleatoria, e se proprio lo Stato che
violò il contratto rimanesse vittorioso, in quanto più forte?! A evitare tale
ingiustizia bisogna che un’Unione distati, meglio ancora, un’Unione di
popoli (VSlkerbund) s'impegni a punire, viribus uniti», lo Stato che,
appartenente o no all’Unione, si rifiuti di riconoscere l’indipendenza
degli Stati uniti o violi un contratto concluso con uno di essi
(Orundlage des Nata rrechts nach Prinsipien der Wissenscliaftslelire, Sa minti-
Werke). Quanto più questa Unione si allargherà, estendendosi a poco a
poco su tutta la terra, tanto meglio sarà assicurata la Pace perpetua
(der ewige Friede), che è il solo rapporto legale tra gli Stati: la
guerra dev’essere soltanto mezzo al fine supremo, che è la conservazione della
pace; mai fine a sé stessa. Die Slaalslehre oder uber das Verhaltniss des
Urstaates zum Vernunftreiche (Siimintl. Werke). zioni preparare gli
uditori, perchè è questa “ la guerra legittima, la guerra cioè in cui non
si tratta di famiglie regnanti, ma in cui il popolo si leva a difendere
la propria vita, la propria individualità, le proprie prerogative, la
guerra a eui soltanto i vili vorrebbero sottrarsi, e per cui invece i
cittadini con esultanza daranno i loro beni, il loro sangue, rifiutando
ogni proposta di pace sino a che non siano garantiti contro ogni minaccia
ulteriore. L’oratore, è vero, contrappone ancora una volta qui il
carattere germanico al carattere neolatino e specialmente al francese, per
concluderne che non bisognava aspettarsi certo da un Napoleone,
strangolatore della nascente libertà della Francia rivoluzionaria, l’attuazione
del regno di giustizia che l’architetto del mondo affidava invece
al popolo tedesco; ma ciò attesta anche come il filosofo patriota fosse sempre
sotto la medesima ispirazione che lo animava veut’anni prima nel suo
entusiasmo per la rivoluzione francese; e, malgrado tutte le apparenze in
contrario, è sempre la medesima ispirazione quella che traspare nel Disegno ili
uno scritto politico della prima cera, destinato a illustrare il proclama del
re di PRUSSIA “ Al mio popolo, quivi il Fichte, se, dinanzi al pericolo
mortale che minacciava la nazione tedesca, riconosce la necessità di
porle a capo come despota sovrano (Zwingherr) il re di PRUSSIA, uou
perciò rimane meno fedele al suo ideale democratico; per lui — ha dovuto
riconoscerlo lo stesso [Veber den Begriff des wahrhaften Krieges (Summit. Werke)
«a dem Entwurfe zu etnei- politischen Schrift ini FruhUnge (Stimma. Werke). Treifcscbke
— la "Repubblica, senza re, senza principe, senza signori, è sempre
il vero Stato di ragione. Passato il pericolo, il sovrano stesso dovrà
adoperarsi con tutte le sue forze a disabituare i suoi sudditi dalla
soggezione, a Fichte nini die nationale Idee, in Historische und
politiseli Aufsalse, 4. ediz. Leipzig, Hirzel. Nodi inumo- sehwebt
ihm als hòchtes Zini vor Augeu eine “ Republik dei- Deutschen oline
FUrsten und Erbadel dodi er begreift, dosa diesea Zini in weiter Ferne
liege. Fui- jetzt gilt ee da* “ die Deutscbeu sioh selbst mit Bewus 9
tsein maoheu „ ». Si, è vero, il Fichte colloca in un tempo ancora assai
lontano la vagheggiala attuazione del suo ideale repubblicano, al punto
che uno ilei frammenti di una sua opera po¬ litica, scritta a Kònigsberg e
rimasta incompiuta s’intitola: La repubblica tedesca sotto il suo V."
protettore (Die Republik der Deutschen su Anfani des sirei- und
zwanzigsten Jahrhunderls, un ter ihrem fiinften Reichsvogtei, ina intanto
quale coraggioso e severo linguaggio rivoluzionario egli tiene contro i
principi alemanni, cosi in questo frammento come altrove! Cou la spietata
crudeltà del chirurgo che, per guarire radicalmente una piaga purulenta,
affonda il bisturi nel pili vivo delle carni, egli mette a nudo tutti i
difetti e le turpitudini del suo tempo e del suo paese e propone come
rimedio una nuova costituzione, la quale dovrebbe stabilire l’eguaglianza
di tutti' i popoli teutonici e non am¬ mettere altra disuguaglianza tra
gl’individui elio non sia quella del- p ingegno; una costituzione adatta
a una nazione come la germanica, la quale, die’egli, pressoché incurante
del giudizio dello altre nazioni, ha la caratteristica di raccogliersi in se
stessa e di min chiedere nulla più che di vivere pacificamente secondo il
proprio genio. Una nazione, la quale, còme la tedesca, non mira che ad
affermare e conservare per sé la propria torma disesistenza (ibr
eigentìiiimliches St'jti) e in nessun modo a imporla ad altri
(keinesweges anderen es aufzudringen), non senza intenzione é stata
collocata in mezzo a popoli , i quali, tosto che abbiano acquistato una
mediocre quantità di coltura, sentono il bisogno di diffonderla al di
fuori; nell’eterno di¬ segno della storia umana essa è destinata a
servire di diga a questa intempestiva invadenza e a fornire non solo a sé
stessa , ma a tutti gli altri popoli d’Europa la garanzia di poter
progredire, ciascuno a suo modo, verso il fine comune (sie seg [die
deutsche Natimi ], im eteigen Entwurfe eines Menschengeschlechles jm
Qanzen, bestimint, als ein Damm dazustehen gegen jene unzeitige
Zudringlichheit, und uni renderli, in altri termini, capaci di fare a
meno di lui.. u Se cosi non dovesse avvenire nel futuro della Germania
— esclama egli con forza — importerebbe poco che una parte di essa
fosse governata da un maresciallo francese come Bernadotte, nel cui
spirito almeno sono passate le visioni entusiasmanti della libeità,
piuttosto che da un signorotto tedesco, tronfio d’orgoglio, immorale e di
una brutalità e di un’arroganza sfrontate „ ('). Quando si leggano
queste parole contenute in quel medesimo Scritto politico della
pri¬ mavera. ISIS, che non interamente a torto si è potuto con¬
siderare come il luogo letterario in cui l’autore si è più inoltrato
sulla via del nazionalismo, e quando si ricordi il noto particolare della
vita del Fichte, ili avere cioè dopo la disastrosa campagna di Russia, impedito
come un orrendo delitto il macello a tradimento della guarnigione
lfaucese rimasta a Berlino, chi vorrà ancora vedere nel nostro filosofo
un pangermanista a cui si possa far risalire la responsabilità non solo
delle teorie insensate degli odierni teutomani, ma persino del cinismo
satanico con cui e per terra e per aria e per mare pretendono apnichf
tuie sich, sonderà nudi alien anderen europaischen Vblkern die Garantie
zu leisten, ilass sie auf dire eigene Weise laufen konnten zìi detti
gemeinsamen Siete) (Sdmmtl. Werke). Quale stridente contrasto tra
l'ufficio storico-politico che il Pielite asse¬ gnava alla nazione
tedesca o quello che la Germania odierna pretende arrogarsi ! Aus dem
Enluourfe eie. {Siimitili. ÌVerke). « Weun wir dahor nieht im Auge
behielten, vvas Deutschland zu werden hat, so 18ge an sich nicht so viel
durun, ob ein franzusischer Marscliall, wie Bernadotte, an dem weuigstens
friiher begeisternde Bilder der Freiheit voriibergegangen sind, oder ein
deutscher aufgehaseuer Edel- maun, ohne Sitten uud mit Rohlieit und
frechem Ueberrauthe, iiber eineu Theil von Deutschland gebiete. ] plicarle
i novelli barbari odierni, i rossi devastatori joiù veri e maggiori dello
stesso Attila flagellum Dei? Tanto più tempestivo, e tanto più salutare e
conforte¬ vole ci sembra, dunque, dinanzi alla mostruosa degenerazione
del senso morale di cui dà spettacolo l’odierna nazione tedesca,
ostentando di non riconoscere altro diritto all’infuori del despotismo e della
forza bruta, rievocare dalla letteratura classica di questa stessa
nazione la dottrina morale di uno dei più grandi assertori e della forza del
diritto e del diritto che individui e pispoli hanno alla giustizia,
all’indipendenza, alla libertà. Chi abbia seguito nella storia della
filosofia le vicende toccate alla dottrina di Fichte ('), avrà notato come al grande
entusiasmo e ai vivaci dibattiti suscitati dal suo primo apparire
succedesse per vari decenni un immeritato oblio, dovuto al predominio
delle 1 dottrine uscite dal suo seno e specialmente dello hegelismo, i
cui rappresentanti, imponendo alla storia della filosofia un loro
preconcetto di scuola, quello cioè di non tener conto nella
speculazione prehegeliana se non di quanto avesse contribuito a preparare
il sistema del loro maestro, avevano abituato a vedere nel Fichte nulla
più che il pensatore da cui era derivato un deciso indirizzo idealist ico
alla speculazione post kantiana. Vani furono gli sforzi del figlio ilei
Ficht.e, Ema- Ofr. in proposito A. Ravà, Introduzione allo studi» tirila
filosofia (li Fichte, Modena, Formiggiui, V., per es., Karl Ludw.
Michelet, Geschichte der lefzten Sy- steme der Philosophie in Deutschland
voli Kant bis Hegel (Berlin), in cui alla prima filosofia del Fichte seno
dedicate le miele Ermanno, per mostrare il valore che la filosofia, paterna
aveva per sè stessa. Soltanto col risvegliarsi dello spirito nazionale
germanico, risorse la fortuna del grande rigeneratore della
coscienza tedesca, del filosofo popolare, dell’oratore eloquente,
del fervido nazionalista, ilei supposto pangermanista; ma, appunto per
questa circostanza, l’attenzione fu rivolta di preferenza alla sua
filosofia politica, arbitrariamente o artificiosamente interpretata, e il
centenario della nascita del Fichte fu solennemente celebrato da tutta la
Germania ilei voi. I, e alla seconda filosofia; A. Oli', avendo avuto il
torto di prendere quest’opera come guida principale per una conoscenza
della filosofia tedesca postkantiana, fu trattò a un’eccessiva reazione
contro il Kant e contro lo hegelismo nel suo libro: Hegel ri la
philosophie allemande (Paris). Di Em. Ehm. Fichte, oltre le Prefazioni
(dianzi ricordate) a vari degli undici voli, delle Opere complete di G.
A. Pielite, vedi ancora: i Beitràge sur Charuk'teristik dar ncueren
Philosophie (Sulzbach) di cui la 2.“ ediz. può considerarsi come un’opera
nuova; il voi. Fichte ' s Lehen and litterarlscher Briefwechsel
(Sulzbach, ISSO), con cui, prima ancora che con la pubblicazione delle
opere, cercò richiamare l’attenzione sulla personalità e sull’attività
pratica del padre, affinchè nascesse cosi gradatamente anche l’interesse
per il suo pensiero; e infine V Introduci ion (in frane.) alla Méthodc
pour arriver à la vie blenheureuse par Fichte (traduz. Bouillier) (Paris). V.,
per es.: t due voli, del Busse, Fidile und sei ne Bezìehung zar Gegenwart
des deutsehen Volkes (Halle), la conferenza dello Zeli.eh, l'idi lo aìs
Politiker (ristampata in Zelleh, Vor- Irdgr und Abliandlinigen, Leipzig)
e l’opuscolo del Lassalle, Melile's poìilisches Vermdchtnis and die neuesle
Gegenwart (Hamburg, ristampato in Lassallk, Reden und Schriflen, Berlin).
Bisogna, invece, uscire dalla Germania per trovare un’espo¬ sizione
prettamente storica e serenamente obiettiva di tutta la filo¬ sofia del
Fichte quale si ha nella solida opera del Willm, Histoire de la
Philosophie allemande drpttis Kant jusqu’k Hegel (Paris), opera premiata, su
relazione del de iléinusat, dall'istituto di con significato più politico che
filosofico; — mia singolare fatalità, poi, (che sembra un’ironia della
storia a chi intenda il vero senso delle teorie politiche del Fichte) ha voluto
che il cèntenario della sua morte coincidesse con l’irrompere improvviso
della premeditata aggressione pangermanistica! Francia e ancora utile e
pregevole, nonostante la sua vetustà; la si può leggere con profitto
anche dopo le ampie ed eccellenti monografie posteriori del Fischer
(Fichles Leben,\Verke und Lehre, Heidelberg) e del Leon (La philosophie de
Fichte et ses rapportò uvee la conscience coti tempo faine, Paris), il
quale ultimo ha dedicato al suo soggetto per molti anni un lungo studio e un
grande amore. Questo carattere politico-nazionalistico degli scritti
usciti in occasione del centenario del Fichte fu ben rilevato da von
Rkichi.IN- Memusco nel suo articolo l)er hundertòte Geburistng ./. O.
Fichtes (in Zeitschrift fiir Philosophie uud philos. Kritih, Halle).
Vedine la lunga lista nell’UKBERWKO-HEiNZE. Grundriss der Geschiclite dcr
Philosophie, IV, Berlin; qui basti ricordare per tutti il discorso già citato
del Treitbchke, Fichte i ind die nutionale Idee. L’uso e l’abuso del
Fichte a scopi patriottici e impe¬ rialistici non cessò io Germania col
conseguimento dell'unità tedesca ; più di una volta le conferenze tenute
nelle università tedesche in occa¬ sione del natalizio dell’Imperatore
hanno avuto per argomento pre ferito la personalità o qualche dottrina
particolare del Fichte: per es., all’università di Strasburgo, terra di
conquista, il Windel- band faceva un’alta affermazione di germaniSmo
parlando del Videa dello Stato tedesco secondo il Fichte (Windelband,
Fiehte's Idee des dent- schen Stante, Freiburg i. Breisgau. All’università
di Kiel, Golz Martius inneggiava al cinquantesimo anno di Guglielmo
II, ricordando la vita e l’opera “ di un uomo, il quale ha
grandemente cooperato all’elevazione e all’emancipazione delle forze
morali della Germania, e della cui azione efficacissima, insieme e
accanto alla con¬ cezione politica dello Stein, ricorre oggi il
centenario; di un uomo, a cui appunto ora la nazione tedosca si appresta
a dimostrare la pro¬ pria gratitudine inalzandogli un monumento nella
capitale [e il monumento è poi sorto a Berlino], insomma, di Giovanni Amedeo
Fichte „. (Redc zur Feier des Geburtstages seiner Majeshit des Deutschen
Kai- sers Kdttigs von Preiissen Wilhelm 11 von Golz Martius, Kiel). Se
nella seconda metà del sec. XIX tra molti scritta' rolli di occasione
cominciò ad apparire qualche studio serio di tutta l’opera fichtiaua, il
suo aspetto, per lo spostamento dell’attenzione dal lato politico ai fondamenti
teo¬ retici del sistema, fu non meno unilaterale di quello che
continuarono a presentare, in tempi più recenti, le disser¬ tazioni te le
monografie sulla dottrina giuridico-sociale del [Ricordiamo, per es. : il
Lòwio, Die Philosophie Fichte’s iiach (lini Gesaimntergehnisse ihrer
EntuHchelung und in ihrem Verhiilt- nitise zìi Kant unii Spinosa
(Stuttgart) [l’Autore, seguace del dualismo de[ Giintlior e perciò
d’indirizzo radicalmente opposto a tinello del Fichte, mira specialmente
a mostrare la logica coerenza in cui le due diverse forme assunte
dal sistema fichtiauo stanno al prin¬ cipio fondamentale del sistema
stesso anche là dove, secondo lui, si contraddicono, pei concluderne
l’insufficienza del principio stesso]; il L.\s- soN, .Fichte Un
Verhaltniss zu Kirche und Slaat (Berlin) [l’Autore, dominato, com’è,
dall’ idea religiosa quale può rientrare nella concezione hegelismi,
considera fondamentale la seconda forma della lilosolia lichtiana, quella
in cui prevale il pensiero religioso, pur giudicandola non riuscita e
insoddisfaeeute] ; e sopra tutti il già ricor¬ dato Fibciusr, Fichtes
Leben, Werke und Lehre (Heidelberg, Geschichtc der neueren Fhilosophic) opera
veramente classica per la larghissima e accuratissima esposizione di
quasi tutte le opere del grande idealista; in essa si sostiene la tesi
che le due forme della filosofia fichtiana non sarebbero che duo opposte
direzioni assuute rispetto allo stesso principio fondamentale del
sistema: uel primo periodo il Fichte, partendo dalla lilosolia teore¬
tica, si sarebbe elevato alla filosofia del diritto, alla lilosolia morale,
alla filosofia religiosa, all'Assoluto; quivi, infatti, il postulato di
quell'ordiuamento morale del mondo, che per lui la tutt uno con 1 In
assoluto e con Dio (die lebendige unii loirkende moralische Ordnung itti
selbst Goti), è il punto di arrivo; noi secondo periodo, invertito il
cammino e trasformato quel postulato da punto di arrivo in putito di
partenza, il Fidilo avrebbe preceduto dall’Assoluto alla religione, alla
morale, al diritto e alla scienza. — Più denigratore che profoudo è stato
giustamente giudicato, infine, il libro del NoàCK, J. G. Fichte nach sei
non Leben, Leliren und Wirken (Leipzig). filosofo tedesco,
inopportunamente staccata da tutto il resto deli’edifizio
speculativo. Anche nella maggior parte degli odierni studi storici
sul Lichte divenuti più che mai frequenti dopoché al moto neo-kantiano
iniziatosi al grido: ritorniamo al Kant! (zurìick zu Kant!) si associò,
come orientamento filo¬ sofico, un moto neo-fichtiano: ritorniamo al
Fichte!j(zuriick zu Fichte!) che è andato sempre più accentuandosi
dagli ultimi decenni del secolo scorso ai giorni nostrf è \11 ritorno al Kant si suole farlo
risalire alla celebre lezione dello Zellar: Ueber die Bedeutung und
Aufgabe der Er/ iJnntnistheorie (Heidelberg); ma già il Weisse
pronunziava a Lipsia un discorso: In welchem Sitine sich die deutsche
Philisopkie wieder a " Kanl zu orientieren hai (Leipzig),. dal quale
si rileva la sua avversione alla dialettica hegeliana e il suo sforzo por
contrapporre al panteismo idealistico un teismo etico. n? V '
m P ro P oa ìto I’Uebeuweg-Hbinzb, Grundtjss der Geschichle (ter
p/iilosop/tie seit Beginn des neunzehnten Jahrhundcrts (Berlin), Elnwìrkung
Fichtes auf neuere Lahren. Se ne ricava il largo é potente influsso che
la filosofia fichtiana, intesa sia come idealismo soggettivo, sia come
idealismo etico, sia come panpsichismo, ha esercitato e sopra le varie nuove
dottrine sorte in Germania e sopra menti speculative di altri paesi
(Inghilterra, Nord-America, ecc.). Per la recente e assai ricca letteratura
intorno al nostro filosofo vedi lo stesso voi. dell’Uebervveg-Heinze, Baldwin,
Dictionary of philosophy and psychology (London), e per quella recentissima,
ancor yù abbondante, cfr. i voli, editi
da Rude, Die P/iilosop/tie der Gegemoarl (Heidelberg) e contenenti pressoché
tutta la bibliografia filosofica. Nel centenario della morte del Fichte e
scoppio della guerra europea) la Bibliotheh fUr Philosop/tie, edita da Stein,
pubblica l’opuscolo di Stàhler, ./. Fichte, ein deutscher Den/ter (conferenza
tenuta nel circolo tedesco di Charcow in Russia), in cui FA., movendo dal bisogno
spirituale oggi sempre più intensamente sentito di una nuova orientazione circa
la concezione del mondo, affermava essere appunto Fichte il più atto a fornire
una chiara risposta alla questione, una forse da rilevare una certa
esclusività d’interesse, corrispondente all’ interesse prevalentemente critico
e gnoseologico che ha animato siuo a ieri il pensiero contemporaneo; di
guisa che in questa rifioritura di studi fichtiani, mentre alla
teoria della conoscenza ò assegnato per lo più il posto d’onore, le altre
parti del sistema, in ispecie le più pratiche, vengono relativamente lasciate
nell’ombra. Il che nuoce alla dottrina e anche alla figura del nostro
filosofo, le quali così risultano monche e diminuite, e spesso oscurale e
falsate; quando invece il Fichte reclamava sempre e vivamente che i
futuri critici non giudicassero la sua concezione se non nella sua totalità, se
non ponendosi cioè in quel punto di vista centrale, da cui si dominano e
s'illuminano tutti gli aspetti; tanto più, poi, che nessuu’altra con¬
cezione come la sua aspirava a essere una rigorosa unità, organica,
inscindibile, completa, a rispecchiare, quasi, queiraltra rigorosa unità,
altrettanto massiccia quanto severa e semplice, che era la personalità
stessa del Fichte, il quale appartiene all’eletta schiera di spiriti
eminenti che nella storia deH’uinauità seppero unire in intima connessione
la speculazione filosofica con la vita vissuta, fondendo armonicamente
pensiero e azione, investendo del medesimo prorisposta che 11 non ha nè corna
nè denti (die u tceder Horner nodi Zàhne hai), ed essere sempre il Fichte
“ la stella polare (der Leit- sternj verso la quale possiamo di nuovo
orientare la nostra vita e il nostro sapere „ (cfr. la prefazione).
Peccato che l’opuscolo dello Srahler uscisse accompagnato nello stesso
anno da altri due volu¬ metti della stessa Biblioteca, riguardanti,
sebbene con intento pura¬ mente storico, figure filosofiche ben diverse
dall’ideale figura del Fichte, e di significato più sintomatico in quel
nefasto anno, e cioè: il Protagoras-Niclzsche-Stirner di B. Iachsiann e il
Nietzsches Metaphysik- limi ihr Verhdltniss zu Erkenntnialheorie u. Ethih
di S. Flemming. fondo interesse le più fredde concezioni astratte
della ricerca teoretica e le più ardenti questioni concrete
dell’attività pratica, intensificando la luce diffusa dalla loro opera
in- stauratricè nel campo del sapere col calore irradiantesi dalla
loro missione riformatrice nel campo del dovere. E invero non si può
negare al sistema del nostro filosofo la sua principale caratteristica : quella
di essere cioè È veramente ammirevole nel Fichte — che Zeller
giustamente definiva anche per il carattere morale un idealista nato — il
rapporto stretto che uni sempre la sua vita alla sua dottrina. “ Jamais
la manière d’agir et di sentir — cosi scrive Cristiano Bauthoi.mf.ss
nella sua Ili- gioire critique des doefriu^s religieuses de la
philosophie moderne (Paris) — jamais la conduite et l’àrae ne fu- rent
séparées chez lui de la manière de penser et de voir. Ce qu : il croyait
était eu méme temps le nerf de sa volonté, le soufflé et. l’in- spiration
de son existence entière. Prenant au sérieux tous les mou- vements de son
intelligence, il vonlait vivre de ce qu' il coucevait, et taire vivre ce
qu’ il savait, cornine il ne vonlait savoir que ce qu’ il pouvait aimer,
admirer et pratiquer. Ce n’ótait pas lii l’héroique effet d’uu parti
pris, c’était le propre de sa naturo méme, où lo seu- timent de la valeur
morale, de la diguité personnelle, se confondait avec une telle hauteur
de pensée, avec une hardiesso de speculatimi si intrèpide, qu’ elle
pouvait, semidei- la rósolution d’nn caractère l'u- domptable. La
ilestiuée, il est vrai, avait surtout coutribué à Pac- croissemeut de
nette énergie, de cette trempe primitive. Fiofite avait eu longtemps à
combattre, non seulement des adversaires et des enne- mie, mais les soucis
et la misère, le froid ot la faim. Avant, do lutter pour la libertà de
penser et pour P indépendance de sa patrie, il avaiti pour s'assurer le
pain dn jour, endnré tout.es les rigueurs matórielles ot sociales; et de
tant d’èpreuves diverses, il était sorti plus vigou- reux, plus
courageux, plus convaiucu de ce que peut et vaut la no- b lesse
d’àme. Ausai ne saurait-ou contempler, sans ètre à.la foia tou- chó et
fortifié, le tableau de ses souffrauces et de ses victoires, na'i- vemeut
et inodesteraeut trace dans cette Vie et correspondance, qu’ a publiée lo
lils qui porte si eonvenablemeut son illustre nom. con tutti i suoi difetti, i
suoi errori e, diciamolo pure, la sua oscurità — un vero sistema. In esso
trovi subito un’idea che l’ha generato tutto quanto, che ne è il
centro, l’anima e ne fa l’unità : idea ovunque presente e ovunque
feconda, da cui nascono il metodo, le divisioni, gli svolgimenti, le
applicazioni, e da cui germogliano in ogni direzione soluzioni, buone o
cattive, a tutti i problemi teore¬ tici e pratici. Esso è non solo uno
nel suo insieme e omogeneo nelle sue parti, ma universale: tutte le grandi
que¬ stioni intorno a Dio, all’uomo, alla natura, e ai loro rapporti,
rientrano nel suo quadro e vi si coordinano; vi si potranno notare
lacune, rifacimenti, mutevolezza di atteggiamenti e di espressioni,
indefinitezza di disegno e incompiutezza di linee, ma ciò va attribuito più
alle contingenze esteriori in mezzo a cui il sistema si svolse (‘), che
non alla sua idea ispiratrice, la quale, posta l’universalità della
dottrina a cui dà vita, non poteva non esercitare un in¬ flusso auch’esso
universale sulla coltura del tempo e delle età posteriori sino a noi,
assicurando così al nome dell’autore una fama imperitura nella storia dello
spirito umano. Intorno itilo svolgimento del pensiero fichtiano et'r. \V.Kaiutz, S
ludi<’u z. EnUoicklungsgeschichU der Fichteschen Wissemchaftslehre (Berlin)
e nnolie E. Focus, Vom Werden rlreier Denker : Fichte, Schelling,
Schleiermachcr (Tiibingen). cfr. anello IC. Voit LÀNDlSK,
Oeschichte der Philosophie (Leipzig) — Schlegel considera la Wissenschaftslehre
di Fichte una delle “ tre maggiori tendenze del secolo (circi griissten
Tetidenzen iteti Jahrshunderts) „ accanto al Wilhelm Meister del Goethe e
alla Rivoluzione francese. E innegabile che il filosofo di Jena fu il
filosofo per eccellenza della scuola romantica, le cui idee, a giudizio
concorde degli storici e in particolare dello I-Iaym, che su ciò insiste
ctm forza (cfr. Die romantische Schuie), sono derivate in Quale questa
idea ispiratrice? È l’idea più alta e, pei la coscienza comune, la più
paradossale che sia sorta nella storia della filosofìa : la sintesi,
cioè, di due termini in apparenza così inconciliabili come l’io e il non-io, il
cono¬ scere e l’essere, la libertà e la necessità, lo spirito e la natura,
nel monismo superiore, nella “ superiore filosofia (Jiohere Phihsophie) direbbe
lo Schelling, della libertà. Il sistema del Fichte consiste, intatti, in
una * filosofia della libertà e poiché il suo principio metafisico s’identifica
con l’ideale morale, giustamente fu chiamato un Idealismo elico. La vecchia
metafisica s’intitolava scienza dell’essere, ontologia, e nell’essere
riponeva l’assoluto, il reale, e dall’essere derivava ciò che dev’essere
l’ideale. Secondo Fichte, invece l’assoluto,
il principio ultimo e supremo da cui veniamo e a cui tendiamo non ù 1 essei e,
ma grandissima parte dalla Dottrina tirila scienza. E si spiega la
predi- lezione dei romantici per un sistema come il ttchtiano, il «piale
tra¬ sforma il kantismo ancora esitante in un idealismo assoluto, e
a tutto uscire, sotto il rispetto metafisico, da «piella stessa
genialità dell’ lo, da cui i romantici tutto derivavano sotto il rispetto
estetico. Fu detto anche Idealismo soggettivo, ma tale definizione e
ei- ronea, perchè V Io che il Fichte pone al principio di tutto il suo sistema
non è l’io individuale, sì bene 1 ’/o collettivo, universale, che sta a
fondamento di tutti gl’individui, l’/o,assoluto, l’originaria in¬ cognita
X, dalla cui unità, ancora chiusa in sè stessa e incosciente, dovrà
uscire, in virtù di quel misterioso urto (Ansiosa), che è il t eus er m
china di tutta la metafisica Uchtiana, l’antitesi cosciente del
soggettivo e dell’oggettivo. Il mio lo assoluto - dice Fichte - non è
l’individuo; soltanto cortigiani offesi e filosofi irritati contro di me
hanno cosi male interpretato la mia filosofia, per attribuirmi l’infame
dottrina dell’egoismo pratico (mein absolutes Teh tst mcht das
Individuili» ; so haben beleidigte Hóflinge und drgerhchc Phiìo- sophm
mich erklàrt, uni mir die sehandliche Lehre des prahtischen Egoismus
anzudichten. Cfr. G. Ws ioi.lt. Zar GescMchte derneue- reti Philosophie
(Hamburg). il dovere, è un ideale che non è, ma dev'essere. L’essere
in quanto essere, in quanto quid stabile e compiuto, in quanto cosa o
materia inerte, a rigore non esiste ; la fissità, l’immobilità di ciò che
chiamiamo sostanza, sostrato, materia, non è che apparenza. Agire,
tendere, volere, ecco in che consiste la realtà vera. L’universo è il
fenomeno della Volontà pura, il simbolo dell’ Idea morale, che è la
vera cosa in se, il vero Assoluto. Filosofare significa com vincersi che
l'essere non è nulla, che il dovere è tutto ; significa riflettere sul
proprio io empirico, individuale, unica ultivilà libera che tende
incessantemente ad attuare ciò che dev' essere, ossia il Dovere, il Bene,
/.’ Io assoluto, universale; significa acquistare la coscienza di por-
lare con sè la libertà che crea e soggioga il mondo, appunto per attuare il
Dovere, il Bene, l'Ideale morale, l Io o la Libertà assoluta.
Il Kant aveva bene ammesso che il soggetto, ossia la ragione e la
libertà, impone una forma e una legge agli oggetti della conoscenza:
dell’ Io egli aveva fatto, si, il legislatore del mondo, ma non era
giunto a farne addirittura il creatore; poiché aveva lasciato sussistere
ancora, ili fronte al soggetto, uu oggetto, una cosa in sè, capace
d’imporre un limite al soggetto. Per il Fichte, invece, il quale dà all’
io empirico un significato universale, questa pretesa cosa in sè, ultimo
residuo del dogmatismo, è una chimera che bisogna esorcizzare, perchè è
semplicemente la parte dell’ Io ancora incosciente che il progresso
della conoscenza trae a poco a poco alla luce della coscienza ;
sarebbe assurda, infatti, di fronte alla Libertà assoluta, alIo assoluto e
universale, una materia non creata da lui e a lui imposta dal di fuori. E
poi, questa misteriosa cosa in sè. supposta al ili là di ogni conoscenza,
questo essere senza intelligenza, a che si riduce, se non a un contenuto
mentale ( Oeilankending ) e quasi a un fantasma, creato da noi stessi a
spiegarci le sensazioni e le rappresentazioni che in noi sorgono, non per
libera creazione nostra, ma prodotte dal di fuori. Se un limite esiste
all'attività del- ]> jo , gli è perchè l ’lo stesso lo pone
liberamente alla propria attività illimitata, con lo scopo di avere il modo di
sop¬ primerlo e di esentare cosi quella stessa attività propria e
di rivelare a si stesso la propria essenza, che è la libertà. La moralità
e la virtù, del resto, non suppongono lo sforzo e la lotta? bisogna,
dunque, per attuarle, crearsi perenue- mente ostacoli e superarli; onde V
Io nel primo momento della propria evoluzione “ pone sè stesso „ (tesi),
nel secondo momento u contrappone a sè il non-Io (antitesi), e nel terzo
momento “ si riconosce nel non-Io (sintesi); tre aiti, questi, a cui
corrispondono i tre modi di esistenza, i tre oggetti del sapere, che sono
l’uomo, il mondo, Dio. Guai se l’7o desistesse un solo istante
dali’esercizio della propria libera attività! cesserebbe immantinente di
esistere; di qui il carattere titanico che il Fischer ammira nel- p
Jo fichtiano, destinato per natura sua a continuamente agire, produrre,
volere. Per approssimarsi in qualche modo al concetto dell lo iich- tiauo
nel quale va ricercato il fondamento di ogni esperienza, giova fare
completamente astrazione da qualsiasi contenuto rappresentalo della
nostra coscienza empirica. Dopo questa immensa sottrazione, si consideri
la rappresentazione più vuota che possa pensarsi, 1 unica affermazione
che non abbisogni di nessuna dimostrazione, il principio logico
d’identità: A è A, col quale uon si afferma nemmeno che zi esiste, ma
soltanto che: se A esiste, A dev’essere A. Orbene, quantunque con tale
affermazione si formuli soltanto una vuota venta e Un cosi intenso
idealismo non era mai sorto prima.del Pielite. Esso insegna che il
variopinto e multisono mondo sensibile, che si estende nello spazio e si
svolge nel tempo, non ha esistenza propria e indipendente : 1’ unico ch'e
veramente esista è l’ lo. E lo stesso Io esiste solo in quanto agisce.
Dal suo operare, dal suo rifrangersi in In e non-lo, sorge per lui il
mondo visibile, percepibile e connesso da non i ponga nessuna esistenza, si compie,
tuttavia, un atto del pensiero, un giudizio, e un giudizio d’incrollabile
certezza, il quale porta direttamente a porre e a riconoscere 1'esistenza
reale dell’/o. Infatti, donde proviene il verbo “è” con cui il primo A è
messo in relazione col secondo A, il soggetto col predicato? Il nesso tra i due
termini del giudizio è beu soltanto nell’/o e per opera dell’/o. Dunque,
nellu precedente proposizioue: A è A, ebe è la più evidente, per quanto
la più vuota di contenuto, che si possa formulare, si nasconde già l’ lo,
si trova già l’attività certa di aè stessa; perché, meutre per A non si
ha il diritto di fare, oltre il giudizio ipotetico: se A esiste, A è A,
nnehe il giudizio categorico: A esiste, in quantiche anatale affermazione
richiederebbe un’ulteriore dimostrazione, per V Io, invece, anello se non
sappiamo assolutamente nulla più di questo: che è A, possiamo dire non
solo: se V Io esiste, l’ Io è l’/o, ma altresì: l’ Io esiste (ciò elio
ricorda l’agostiniano e il cartesiano: Cogito ergo sum). Ma V Io è, per
natura sua, essenzialmente attività, e, prima ancora di acquistare
coscienza dei propri prodotti, dei propri atti, e di sè stesso, crea, con
la sua immagiuazione produttrice, perenne e inesau¬ ribile, le
innumerevoli rappresentazioni, che poi lu riHeasioue farà apparire alla
sua intelligenza come oggetti, come non-lo; perchè — va sempre ricordato
questo punto originale della dottrina del Fichte - il non-lo, ossia il
mondo esterno, è posto ilall’/o inconscio, non già dall' Io cosciente; è
un prodotto, quindi, anteriore a quella rela¬ zione di antitesi e sintesi
tra soggettivo e oggettivo che è la co¬ scienza, e quando la coscienza
nasce, s’impone a essa come già dato. Così, grazie a questa produzione
inconscia dell’ immaginazione dell' lo — di quell’immaginazione che già
per il Descartes era il trait d’union tra l’anima e il corpo, e per il Kant
l’intermediaria tra le in¬ tuizioni pure della sensibilità e le categorie
dell’intelletto —, il non-lo apparisce all’ intelligenza come un limite
dal di fuori senza essere perciò estraneo all’/o, essendo sempre un
prodotto dell’/o inconscio. leggi, il quale perciò non è che il sistema
delle nostre rap¬ presentazioni, il rispecchiarsi dell’ lo nell’/o. Ma
anche que¬ sto rispecchiamento non ci rivela in modo puro e immediato
]’ intima essenza del nostro spirito, perchè non uel rappresentarsi è il nostro
più alto operare, non nel rappresentarsi è tutto il nostro Io. Noi
operiamo veramente soltanto nel libero volere morale; noi attuiamo
completamente il nostro Io soltanto «piando, con attività rinnovata al
lume della coscienza, ci sforziamo di soggiogare il mondo delle
rappre¬ sentazioni scaturite dall’inesauribile fonte dell’ lo
inconscio _ il quale mondo non è che “ il materiale
sensibilizzato del nostro dovere (unsre Welt ist das versinnlichte
Muterial unsrer Pjlicht)— e ci sforziamo di trasformarlo nel mondo della
libertà, nel mondo soprasensibile ed eterna¬ mente in fieri del Bene;
poiché, esclama il Fichte, essere liberi è nulla, divenir liberi è il cielo
(frei se‘in ist nichts, frei wenlen ist dei' Ilimmel)! La costruzione
filosofica del Fichte può dirsi monolitica, ed è tale da superare in
semplicità persino quella eretta, da un punto di vista e con centro «li
gravita affatto opposti, dallo Spinoza: — al Jacobi il sistema del
filosofo tedesco appariva il rovescio del sistema del filosofo olaudese. E
qui sta il vantaggio della concezione fichtiana anche sulla kantiana; il
Kant non aveva tanto fornito un sistema, quanto, piuttosto, i germi e i
materiali per più sistemi; nella lotta contro il dogmatismo e contro lo
scetticismo egli aveva voluto inalzare alla scienza propriamente
detta, più che un tempio, una fortezza; e, per rendere questa
fortezza iuespuguabile da tutti i lati, ne aveva costruito -i bastioni
quasi in tempi diversi, quasi in stile diverso : onde nella sua filosofia
non solo rimane il dualismo inconciliabile tra l’essere e il conoscere, tra il
conoscere'e il lai e, ma nell ambito stesso del conoscere manca una rigorosa
unità tra i diversi poteri conoscitivi, tra la sensibilità con lo sue
intuizioni pure, l’intelletto con le sue categorie, la ragione con le sue
idee metafisiche. Il filosofa di Ko- nigsbei'g da una parte pareva
chiudere lo spirito umano tutto nel giro del proprio mondo interno, nel
fenomeno, dall altra gli lasciava intravedere, al di là di questo
mondo interno, un altro mondo, il noumeno, avvolto sempre da densa
nebbia e sempre refrattario alla conoscenza. Donde la domanda : questo
mondo esistente in sè è quello stesso che ci si i ivela nella voce della
coscienza, ed è possibile tiadui lo in atto con la pura e buona volontà?
La risposta del Kant, almeno nell’espressione datale dall’autore, se
non nello spirito dell’autore stesso, era stata cosi cauta, che
ognuno poteva trarne le conseguenze a suo proprio rischio. Iusomma, non
si poteva non riportare l’impressione che nella, dotti ina kantiana la
verità fosse svelata soltanto a mezzo, e che a essa mancasse, dal punto
di vista scienti¬ fico, cosi il fondamento come il coronamento. Fichte,
invece, da quel pensatore ben più ardito e deciso ch’egli eia e che si
era formato sullo stampo dello Spinoza, s’impossessò dei materiali kantiani, e
fece della Critico un sistema unitario: Tutto ciò che è, è per noi; tutto ciò
che è per noi, può essere soltanto per opera nostra; nell’attività dell’
lo è racchiuso il conoscere e l’essere, il sensibile e il soprasensibile,
il reale e 1’ ideale ; nell’autocoscienza (Se/bstbeiousstsein) — lo
stesso Kant aveva già insinuato che la misteriosa incognita nascosta
sotto i fenomeni sensibili poteva benissimo essere quella stessa che
portiamo con noi — è l’unità di tutti i poteri dello spirito, l’unità
delle forme cosi del fenomeno come della cosa in sè che sta a fonda¬
mento del fenomeno, l’unità del sistema delle nostre rappresentazioni e del
sistema dei nostri doveri, l’unità della nostra essenza teoretica e della
nostra essenza pratica : 1’ unità, e con 1’ unità il fondamento e il
coronamento di tutta la dottrina. Se il Reinhold aveva cercato un principio
superiore, come principio unico indispensabile a dare forma sistematica
di scienza alla dottrina della conoscenza, se il Beck aveva interpretato
lo spirito della filosofia kantiana nel senso idealistico, se il Jacobi
aveva reclamato l’elimi¬ nazione della “ cosa in sè „, ecco nella
filosofia del Fichte soddisfatti tutti insieme questi desideri, e in pari
tempo fornita ai risultati della Critica della ragione 1’ evidenza
richiesta dallo Schulze. La filosofia di Kant, raccoglie, a dir cosi, in
un'unità vivente tutti i germi e principi motori del pensiero moderno, e
il sistema del Fichte non è che una delle direzioni che poteva prendere
il kantismo. La direzione fichtiana, quindi, scaturisce naturalmente
dalle premesso kantiane, ma non deve considerarsi perciò., come
vorrebbe il Leon, quusi l’unico e necessario completamento del kantismo:
altre direzioni, assai divergenti dalla fichtiana, l'anno capo
legittimamente aneli’ esse al Kaut., dei cui discepoli può ripetersi ciò
che Cicerone dicova dei diversi discepoli di Socrate: alii aliuiì
suinpsenuit il Fichte è un
kantiano all’ incirca nel medesimo senso che Platone fu un socratico, e
sta allo Spinoza come Platone a Parmenide; col Kaut afferma l’ideale
morale, con lo Spinoza l’unità dei “ due moudi onde la Bua filosofia,
dicemmo già, è un’originale sintesi, forse Unica nel suo genere ai tempi
moderni, di ciò che sembra assolutamente inconciliabile: il monismo e la
libertà, il mondo delle cause o il inondo dei fini. Anziché ritornare sui
singoli problemi della Critica della ragione, egli s’impadronisce del
centro animatore di quella Critica, e trae fuori dal pensiero
fondamentale dell’ auto-attività dello spirito, in quanto forza reale e
fine a sé stesso, un uuovo quadro del mondo di grandiosa arditezza, entro
il quale l’idealismo, che nella filosofia kautiana era latente sotto 1’
involucro di prudenti re- La filosofia del Fichte, abbiamo detto, è una filosofia
della Libertà, poiché ha per principio una realtà assoluta, intesa come
Io pratico, come Attività pura, come Auto-determinazione, ed è uno sforzo
poderoso per dedurre da questo principio oltreché le condizioni della
vita etica, anche le funzioni della ragione teorica, celebrando in tal
modo quel primato della ragione pratica che il Kant aveva già pro¬
clamato , e facendo perciò della ragione pura un organo della moralità.
L’attività dell’ Io assoluto alterna i suoi atti di produzione inconscia
con i suoi atti di riflessione cosciente, la sua direzione centrifuga ed
espansiva che si protende verso l’infinito, con la direzione centripeta e
coustrizioni, viene chiamato a potente vita, e ciò che di sublime il
grande lilosofo dell’ imperativo categorica aveva insegnato intorno alla
libertà morale di fronte alla necessità naturale, viene tradotto dal
linguaggio di un moderato contegno in quello di un energico en¬ tusiasmo.
li mondo può comprendersi soltanto in base allo spirito e lo spirito
soltanto in base alla volontà. La dottrina del Fichte è tutta nel vivere
e nel fare, tanto vero che comincia non con la definizione di un
concetto, ma con la richiesta di un atto (Thathandlung): poni te stesso,
fai con coscienza ciò che bui fatto inconsapevolmente ogni qual volta ti
sei chiamato io, analizza questo atto di autocoscienza e riconosci nei
suoi elementi le energie da cui scaturisce ogni realtà Questa intima vitalità
del principio lichtiaiio, che ricorda l'atto puro aristotelico e il
perpetuo divenire eracliteo, e in conseguenza della quale Dio, anziché
una sostanza assoluta già compiuta, sarebbo un ordino cosmico sempre
attenutesi, mai attuato, si ridette anche uel- l’opera filosòfica
dell’autore, il cui spirito, fiero e irrequieto, si svolse iu continua
lotta non solo nella pratica, ma anche nel pensiero. Nelle sue lezioni,
come nei suoi scritti, spesso egli riprende daccapo la serie delle sue
deduzioni e sempre iu modo diverso e quasi conver¬ sando coi suoi uditori
e coi suoi lettori, mai trascurando le possibili obiezioni da parte di
questi; sicché il suo filosofare sembra compiersi trattile che arresta la
prima e respinge V Io in sè stesso; pone a sè stessa l’urto (Anstoss)
della sensazione, il limite della rappresentazione, l’intoppo del non-Io
; è insomma teoretica : soltanto al fine di diventare pratica.
Tutto 1’ apparato della conoscenza non serve che a darci la possibilità
di compiere il nostro dovere: quel dovere che è 1’ unica realtà vera, 1’
unico in-sè (An-sich) del mondo fenomenico, perchè le cose sono in sè ciò che
noi dobbiamo farne ; 1’ io teoretico pone oggetti, affinchè 1’ io
pratico trovi resistenze (il tedesco Gegenstand = oggetto è qui
preso come sinonimo di Widerstund = resistenza) ; l’oggettività esiste soltanto
per essere la materia indispensa¬ bile all’azione, per ricevere da questa
la forma che deve elaborarla e inalzarla sì da rendere sempre più
visibile alla presenza d’interlocutori, è come un filosofare in
comune e per più rispetti richiama alla mente il dialogo platonico. Del
resto al Fichte sarebbe parsa vana una filosofia avulsa dal suo ambiente
naturale, l’umanità, ond'egli si faceva un dovere di agire e influire
energicamente sui suoi contemporanei e su quanti fossero in relazione con lui ,
e visse in continuo coutatto col mondo e con la società; al contrario del Kant,
tra la vita e la speculazione del quale non appare certo Io stretto
connubio che è nel nostro filosofo ; infatti, i rapporti sociali e tutto il
contegno esteriore del grande solitario di Konigsberg furono, rispetto alla sua
vita interiore e al suo pensiero, cosi indifferenti come il guscio al
gheriglio ma turo ; mentre il Kant per molti e molti auui aveva portato
entro di so,i suoi gravi pensieri senza che alcuno sospettasse nemmeno
che cosa accadesse nell’ intimo di questo professore che senza differenza
dagli altri teneva i suoi corsi universitari, il Fichte, invece,
impaziente di ogni ritardo nella missione rigeneratrice, a cui con
orgogliosa coscienza di sè si sentiva chiamato, lasciava prorompere la
manifestazione delle sue idee, anche se non definitivamente elaborate,
man mano che scaturivano dal profondo della sua anima agile e trasmutabile e
disposta agli atteggiamenti più diversi secondo i campi a cui si
applicava, secondo i problemi ché affrontava, secondo i momenti in cui
agiva. 1’ attività dell lo. In conclusione , noi siamo Intelligenza
Per poter essere Volontà. La Dottrina della Scienza, quindi , nel sistema
del Fichte, è tutta in servigio della filosofia pratica, la quale ,
attraverso la Dottrina del Diritto, va a culminare nella Dottrina morale,
e'mira ad attuare quel regno dei fini che il Kant contrapponeva al
regno delle cause, e che jier il nostro filosofo consiste nell’adempimento
completo del Dovere, nel dominio assoluto dell’ lo, nel trionfo supremo
della Libertà. E invero, mentre da un lato la Dottrina della Scienza
ci apprende che il fondo, l’essenza dello spirito umano non è
l’intelligenza ma 1’ attività, non il pensare ma il volere — nella forma
, almeno, in cui attività e volere sono accessibili all’uomo , e che
l’intelligenza — pur essendo inseparabile dall’attività, da cui è
condizionata e di cui e condizione — resta subordinata all’ attività
come la forma al proprio contenuto, come la riflessione al proprio
oggetto, d’altra parte la Dottrina morale ci mostra il procedimento con cui lo
spirito umano si sforza — il che è preciso suo dovere — di prendere
coscienza, mediante l’intelligenza, di quell’attività pura, di quella volontà,
di quella libertà infinita, che è appunto il fondo suo , la sua
essenza assoluta. Dal che risulta evidente lo stretto nesso che avvince
la Dottrina morale alla Dottrina della Scienza ; quella si deduce
direttamente dai principi di questa, in quanto la moralità, secondo il
Fichte, non è che uno dei momenti pii importanti, anzi il più essenziale,
dell’ attua¬ zione di quell’ Io puro , di quella Libertà assoluta che
la Dottrina della Scienza pone al di là dei limiti di ogni
coscienza, e da cui l’io empirico deriva e a cui l’io empirico aspira. Il
passaggio dall’ Io puro, assoluto e infinito, per via di limiti e
determinazioni, all’ io empirico, relativo e finito, ossia dalla Libertà
all’Intelligenza, è il problema a cui pili specialmente si applica la
Dottrina della Scienza ; il passaggio dall’io empirico, relativo e
finito, per via di superamenti e liberazioni, all’Io puro, assoluto,
infinito, è il problema a cui più specialmente si applica la
Dottrina morale. L’ un problema è il reciproco dell’ altro, e la soluzione
di entrambi dipende dalla soluzione dell’antinomia tra la finitezza
dell’Io-intelligenza, attività oggettivante (che pone oggetti,
limitazioni, resistenze), e l’infinitezza dell’ Io-libertà , attività
pura (= che ha per essenza l’assolutezza, l’illimitatezza, l’autonomia). E come
Fichte risolve tale antinomia con quell’attività a un tempo finita
e infinita che è lo sforzo (Streben) — attività finita, perchè lo sforzo
implica una limitazione, una determinazione, che impedisce l’immediato
compimento dell’atto nella sua infinità; attività infinita, perchè questa
determinazioue non ha nulla di assoluto, di fisso, è un limite che
l’attività fa indietreggiare incessantemente per conseguire l’infinità,
ne segue che l’idea dello sforzo è , nella sua filosofia, il cardine
fondamentale dell’ attività teoretica non meno che dell’ attività
pratica, dell’ Intelligenza non meno che della Volontà, della Dottrina
della Scienza non meno che della Dottrina morale. Nella Dottrina morale ,
a oui ora è rivolta la nostra attenzione, lo sforzo esprime la tendenza
dell’Io a identificare la sua attività oggettivante con la sua attività
pura, e lo svolgimento dell’ Io è tutto nel rapporto tra queste due
attività : l’infinita Libertà non può attuarsi se non at traverso la
limitazione e l’Intelligenza, ma non c’è limitazione uè Intelligenza se
non rispetto all’infinita Attività pura elle di continuo le sorpassa. Lo
sforzo, quindi, può definirsi un’attività in cui l’infinito è posto non
come stato attuale, ma come meta da raggiungere, un’attività in cui
1’ adeguazione del finito e dell’ infinito non è , ma dev'essere ,
un’attività, insomma, che ha per contenuto il Dovere e che del Dovere è a
sua volta il contenuto. Diamo, in breve, il disegno della Dottrina
morale. La Dottrina morale si apre I) con un’ Introduzione , in cui sono
sinteticamente presentati i presupposti filosofici dell’etica; e si
svolge in tre Libri, dei quali II) il primo trae da quei presupposti il
principio della moralità) il secondo deduce da essi la realtà e l’applicabilità
di questo principio) il terzo fa l’applicazione sistematica del
prin¬ cipio stesso, ed espone quindi la morale propriamente detta. I
presupposti filosofici dell' etica, contenuti nell’Introduzione e perfettamente
conformi alla Dottrina della Scienza , muovono dal principio che la vera
filosofia sol¬ tanto allora è possibile, quando si abbia un punto in
cui il soggettivo e l’oggettivo, l’essere in sè e la rappresenta¬
zione di esso non siano divisi, ma facciano tutt’uno, e che un tal punto
si trova nell’Egoità o Io puro, nell’Intelligenza o Ragione. Senza questa
assoluta identità del soggetto e dell’oggetto nell’Io, la quale peraltro non si
lascia cogliere immediatamente come un dato della coscienza attuale, ma
soltanto argomentare per via di ragionamento, la filosofia non approda a
nessun risultato. Bisogna, dunque, ammettere un’Unità fondamentale e
primitiva, la quale, tosto che nasce una coscienza attuale — o anche
soltanto l’autocoscienza —, si scinde necessariamente in soggetto
e oggetto, poiché “ solamente in quanto io, essere cosciente, mi
distinguo da me, oggetto della coscienza, divengo co¬ sciente di me
stesso. Bisogna ammettere, inoltre, che l’oggettivo abbia causalità sul
soggettivo, e viceversa il soggettivo sull’oggettivo, per rendere
concordi tra loro, e in generale possibili, il pensiero e il pensato, la
ragione e il suo dominio sulla natura. E appunto perchè il legame
causale tra soggetto e oggetto è duplice — ognuna delle due parti è causa
ed effetto dell’altra: il soggettivo è effetto dell’oggettivo nel conoscere ,
Soggettivo è effetto del soggettivo nell 'operare — , la filosofia si
divide in teoretica e pratica. Senonchè, come avemmo già occasione
di notare, l’Io puro, ossia l’Unità soggettivo-oggettiva ancora indivisa,
non è un fatto (Thatsache ), ma un atto ( Thathand - tutiff), la sua
natura originaria è attività: è, dunque, pratica. Perciò il principio : “ Io mi
trovo come operante nel mondo sensibile è di capitale importanza per il
nostro conoscere. Da esso comincia ogni coscienza ; senza la co¬
scienza della mia attività non è possibile nessuna autocoscienza, senza
l’autocoscienza nessuna coscienza di un quid diverso da me. Infatti, la
percezione della mia attività suppone una resistenza al di fuori di noi; “
ovunque e in quanto tu percepisci attività, tu percepisci necessariamente
anche resistenza ; altrimenti tu non percepisci attività (Ora la
resistenza è affatto indipendente dalla [Sittenlehre (Stimanti. Werke.) Cfr.
pvec. Sittenlehre. mia attività, è anzi il suq opposto; è qualcosa che
esiste soltanto e in nessun modo agisce, qualcosa di quieto e
morto, die tende semplicemente a rimanere quel che è, qualcosa che nel
proprio campo contrasta all’azione*della libertà, ma non può mai invadere
il campo di questa. Un qualcosa di simile, dunque, è “ pura oggettività „
, e si chiama., col suo proprio nome, materia. Senza la rap¬
presentazione di una tale materia, niente resistenza alla nostra attività,
quindi niente attività, niente autocoscienza, niente coscienza, niente
essere. La rappresentazione del puro oggettivo resta così dedotta
necessariamente dalle leggi stesse della coscienza. Con la medesima
necessità con cui viene dedotto il puro oggettivo, viene posto anche il
suo contrario, il soggettivo, ossia 1’ attività propriamente detta, sotto la
forma di un’ agilità (Agililàt) o forza efficiente. Ma poiché nella
coscienza, quasi come in un prisma, ogni unità si rifrange in soggetto e
oggetto, così in essa, avvenuto lo sdoppiamento dell’Io puro in soggettivo e
oggettivo, anche il soggettivo si sdoppia a sua volta, e si ha da una parte 1’
attività propriamente detta, veduta come una forza reale, come un
oggettivo esistente in me, dall’altra il soggettivo, fonie inesauribile
di questa forza reale, fonte originaria non derivante da nessun
oggettivo, e dalle cui profondità oscure e inaccessibili sgorga, con
libero, spontaneo e talora impetuoso moto interno, l’infinita varietà
delle nostre rappresentazioni, dei nostri concetti ; per conseguenza la
mia attività — ossia il soggettivo ancora indiviso nella sua unità
anteriore alla coscienza — , quando sia veduta attraverso il tramite della
coscienza, appare come un oggettivo, che da un lato scaturisce da un
soggettivo perennemente rinascente a ogni estrinsecarsi dell’oggettivo,
dall'altro determina l’oggetti vita pura dianzi chiamata materia. Così si
rivela alla coscienza la nostra assoluta auto-attività, la cui essenza
sta nel produrre rappresentazioni, nel creare concetti, e la cui
manifestazione sensibile dicesi libertà. Ciascun concetto, riguardato
come determinante l’oggettivo in virtù della propria causalità, diventa
un concetto-line, e allora esso stesso appare un qualcosa di oggettivo e
si chiama uua volizione; e lo spirituale che in noi si considera come
principio immediato delle volizioni dicesi volontà. Spetta, dunque
, alla volontà agire sulla materia ed esercitare causalità nel mondo
sensibile ; ma ciò non le sarebbe possibile se non avesse uno strumento
che sia esso stesso materia , ossia quel corpo articolato che è il
nostro [Nel Leon trovasi ben descritta la natura dell’attività
spirituale nel senso fichtiano, attività clic è, a un tempo e
continuamente, produzione di sè e riflessione sopra di sè, oggettivazione e
soggettività, io reale e io ideale, attualità e potenzialità; chi voglia
intendere una tale attività, che ha la caratteristica di esistere e di essere
anteriore alla propria esistenza, devo ricordarsi che essa non va pensata
alla maniera delle cose, perché, contrariamoute alla natura di queste
ultime, la cui realtè si esaurisce tutta quanta nell'essere oggettivo,
l’attività spirituale può ripiegarsi su di sé, può riflettersi. E a ciò
si deve quel fenomeno meraviglioso e cosi lontano dal meccanismo
materiale, per cui 1’ esistenza ideale determina l’esistenza reale, l’idea ha
causalità, lo spirito è libertà. Onde si vede che la libertà è proprio
(come il Kant aveva ailermato, senza però dimostrarlo) il comiuciamento
assoluto d’uno stato, la creazione di un’ esistenza seuza rapporto di
dipendenza reale con un’ altra esistenza. E si vede altresì che solamente l’essere
ragionevole, dotato d’intelligenza e riflessione, è capace di libertà,
poiché in lui soltanto è possibile una causalità in forza di un
concetto. organismo. E invero u io , consideralo come un principio
di attività nel mondo dei corpi, sono un corpo articolato, e la
rappresentazione del mio corpo non è altro che la rappresentazione di me
stesso come causa nel inondo materiale 5 e perciò, mediatamente, non
altio che un ceito aspetto della mia attività assoluta. Volontà e
corpo sono quindi una medesima cosa , riguardata però da due lati
diversi: una medesima cosa, perchè soltanto fin dove si estende
l'immediata causalità della volontà sul corpo, si estende il corpo
articolato , necessario strumento della causalità sulla materia;
riguardata però da due lati diversi , perchè, in virtù dell’ azione
sdoppiatrice della coscienza, la volontà appare come il soggettivo che
esercita la sua causalità sul corpo, e il corpo come 1 ’oggettivo i
cui mutamenti coincidono con quelli di tutta l’oggettività o realtà
corporea. Similmente una medesima cosa, riguardata però anch’ essa da due lati
diversi, sono la natura che la mia causalità può cangiare, ossia la
costituzione e T ordinamento della materia , e la natura non cangiabile
, ossia la materia pura : la natura mutevole è l’oggettivo
considerato soggettivamente e in connessione con 1 ’ io, intelligenza attiva ;
la natura immutevolo è Soggettivo con¬ siderato oggettivamente e soltanto
in sè. Secondo il precedente ragionamento , i molteplici elementi
che l’analisi ritrova nella percezione della nostra causalità sensibile
vengono dedotti dalle leggi della co¬ scienza e ridotti all' unità, all’
unico assoluto su cui si tonda ogni coscienza e ogni essere, all
'attività pura. Questa at¬ tività, in virtù della legge fondamentale
della coscienza, Sittenlehre. per cui 1 essere attivo non si
comprende senza una resistenza su cui agisce, non si comprende cioè se non come
un Io-soggetto operante sopra un Non-Io-oggetto, appare sotto forma
di efficienza su qualcosa fuori dell'Io. Ma tutti gli elementi contenuti
in questa apparenza, a partire dal concetto-fine propostomi assolutamente da me
stesso, sino alla materia greggia del mondo esterno su cui esercito
la mia causalità, non sono che anelli intermedi dell’apparenza
totale, e perciò semplici apparenze anch’essi. L’unico reale 1 vero
è la mia auto-attività, la mia indipendenza, la mia libertà. Da
tali presupposti bisogna ora dedurre il principio della moralità. L’ uomo
trova in sè un’ obbligazione assoluta e categorica a fare o non fare certe
azioni indipendentemente da ogni fine esteriore, la quale si accompagna
immancabilmente con la natura umana e costituisce la nostra caratteristica
morale. Donde ha origine questa obbligazione o Dovere, che vai quanto
dire la leggo morale, ossia il' principio della moralità? Secondo
che esige la Dottrina della Scienza , tale origine non va ricercata
altrove che in noi stessi, nell’ Jo. Onde il primo problema da risolvere
a tal fine è:^ u Pensare sè stesso come puramente sè stesso, ossia come
distaccato da tutto ciò che non è io. La soluzione di questo problema si
ottiene così : Io non trovo me stesso se non nella mia volontà, se
non come volente ; e trovarsi volente significa riconoscere in se
una sostanza che vuole. L’intelligenza è la coscienza puramente
soggettiva; la coscienza del proprio io in quanto io non può nascere che
dalla volontà,. Ma la volontà non si concepisce se non supponendo
qualcosa di diverso dal1’ io, perchè ogni volontà reale è una determinata
volizione che ha un concetto-fine, che tende cioè ad attuare un oggetto
concepito come possibile, un oggetto che stia fuori di noi. Ne segue che,
per trovare me stesso e nuli’altro che me stesso , bisogna fare
astrazione da questo oggetto esterno della mia volontà: ciò che rimane
allora sarà il mio essere puro, la volontà assoluta, il principio della nostra
filosofia. Ne segue altresì che il carattere essenziale e distintivo dell’ io è
una tendenza ad agire di propria iniziativa e indipendentemente da ogni
impulso estraneo, a determinare sè stesso in modo incondizionato e autonomo ,
è, in una parola, la libertà. Ora, appunto questa tendenza e questa
libertà costituisce l’io preso in sè, l’io considerato all’ infuori di
ogni relazione con checchessia di diverso da sè. Ma ogni essere non
è se non in quanto viene riferito a un’ intelligenza, la quale sa che
esso è ; in altri termini suppone una coscienza. L’io, quindi , non è se
non in quanto si pone, non è se non in forza della coscienza che ha
di sè; onde esso deve avere la coscienza di quella tendenza alla libera
auto-determinazione che dicemmo costituire la sua essenza. E invero l’io che,
mediante l’intelligenza, pone sè stesso come tendenza all’autonomia
assoluta o libertà, è un essere il cui principio si trova non in un
altro essere, ma in un quid di categoria diversa — l’unico quid che possa
concepirsi oltre l’essere — e cioè nel pensiero , inteso non come qualcosa di
sostanziale, sì bene come attività pura, come movimento dell’intelligenza
senza restrizioni e senza fissità. Orbene, da questa intima fusione
dell’io in quanto tendenza all’attività assoluta o libertà e dell’io in
quanto intelligenza, dell’io in quanto essere e dell’ io in quanto
riflessione , è possibile dedurre il prin¬ cipio della moralità.
Come? L’Io assoluto, non ancora rifratto dal prisma della
coscienza, è determinato, come abbiamo detto, dalla sua tendenza
all’attività assoluta, e questa determinazione diventa oggetto o contenuto
dell’ intelligenza. Ma , siccome l’Io assoluto nella sua unità integrale,
nella sua semplicità e identità originaria non può essere mai oggetto
della coscienza , bisogna che questa si sforzi di apprenderlo , almeno per
approssimazione, attraverso la dualità dell’essere oggettivo e della
riflessione soggettiva, mediante quella specie di espediente che consiste
nel considerare il soggettivo e 1’oggettivo come determina»tisi
reciprocamente l’uno l’altro, come complementari, quindi come inseparabili
e impensabili l’uno senza l’altro. E allora, se si concepisce il soggettivo
come determinato dall’ oggettiv'o (nel qual caso nasce quella relazione
psicologica che si chiama sentimento), essendo l’oggetto, rispetto al
soggetto, qualcosa di per sè stante, di fisso .e permanente, si troverà
che il contenuto del pensiero è immutabile e necessario e che
l’intelligenza impone a sè stessa la legge di una attività propria e
assoluta. Se poi si concepisce l’oggettivo come determinato dal
soggettivo (nel qual caso nasce quel- l’altra relazione psicologica che
si chiama volontà), essendo il soggetto, rispetto all’ oggetto, qualcosa di
mobile, di attivo e indipendente, si troverà che l’io si pone come
libero. Si arriverà cosi — combinando, i due risultati , la legge
necessaria da una parte e la libertà illimitata dal1’altra — all’ idea di una
legge che l’io liberamente -impone a sè stesso : la legge ha per contenuto la
libertà , e la libertà è sottoposta alla legge. Legge e libertà, per
tal modo , si determinano reciprocamente : esse fanno insieme una
sola e medesima unità. Tra la libertà ( = attività incondizionata e illimitata)
e l’autonomia ( = imposizione spontanea di una legge a sè stesso) non c’
è incompatibilità; esse nascono entrambe da quello sdoppiamento che è
dovuto alla natura dell’ attività spirituale e che è a un tempo posizione
di sè e riliessione sopra di sè, oggetto e soggetto. In altri termini, si
ha qui l’intima fusione, nel- 1’ unità dell’ io, tra 1’ intelligenza, che
concepisce la nostra essenza come libertà, e la volontà, che è 1’
attuazione del- 1’autonomia, tra la libertà-concetto e la libertà-atto, e
il legame che unisce 1’ una all’ altra è di causalità non Inec-
canico-coercitiva ma psichico-imperativa, è di necessità non teorica ma
pratica, è il legame morale del dovere. La libertà-idea non può non
tradursi, dece tradursi in libertà- realtà; il Dovere, obbligazione per
eccellenza, sta nell’attuare l’essenza nostra, nel divenire, attraverso la
coscienza, quel ohe siamo in fondo al nostro essere assoluto
anteriore alla coscienza, nel renderci cioè liberi ; e in ciò precisamente
consiste il principio supremo di tutta la moralità, il quale per tal
guisa risulta dedotto, come ci proponevamo, dalla natura dell’ io.
Posto l’io, è in pari tempo posta anche la tendenza all’assoluta
auto-attività, alla libertà; ma la libertà non acquista valore se non per
un’ intelligenza che ne faccia la legge determinante delle nostre azioni
; ne segue che l’io deve sottoporsi con coscienza e quindi con libertà
alla legge della propria natura, che è la legge della libertà, senz’altro
fine che la libertà, stessa. La moralità, appunto perchè esprime
direttamente l’essenza dell’io, la sua praticità assoluta e la sua autonomia, è
una perpetua legislazione dell’io imposta a sè stesso, sotto un triplice
rispetto : rispetto all’adozione stessa della legge morale, adozione la
quale non può essere che una libera sottomissione, una spontanea adesione
alla logge; rispetto all’applicazione della legge a ciascun caso particolare,
applicazione nella quale il giudizio morale è sempre un atto di autonomia,
un consenso di noi con noi stessi ;rispetto al contenuto della legge, uel
quale contenuto è evidente che ogni determinazione della volontà da parte
di una causa estranea a sè stessa, che vai (pianto dire alla ragione,
co¬ stituirebbe un’eteronomia affatto contraria alla legge morale. Per
tal modo si può concludere che la vita morale tutta quanta non è altro
che una ininterrotta auto-legislazione dell’io, una perenne autonomia
dell’essere razionale; e dove questa autolegislazione cessa, ivi comincia
l’ immoralità. IH- - Alla deduzione del . principio della moralità segue
la deduzione della realtà e dell’ applicabilità del principio stesso,
senza di che quest’ ultimo rimarrebbe un’ astrazione e la morale si
ridurrebbe a un formalismo vuoto e sterile. Invece la morale ha una
realtà, la legge morale ha efficacia nel mondo sensibile in cui viviamo
; onde il principio della moralità è non solo vero , logica). A chiarire
ancor meglio la deduzione della legge morale dall’Io, ricollegandola con
i principi e le conseguenze della Dottrina della Scienza giova il seguente
schema fornito — un — mente possibile e giustificato dalla
ragione, ma altresì reale e applicabile : reale, perchè è un concetto che
deve attuarsi nel mondo sensibile ; applicabile, perchè il mondo
sensibile è tale, per origine e natura, da prestarsi come strumento
all’attuazione di quel principio. dal Fischer (Geschichte der neuem
Philosophie, Fichte unti seine Vorgànger) e nel quale viene
simboleggiato lo sdoppiarsi dell’ Io nella coscienza teorica e il suo
reintegrarsi nella legge morale: Io Soggetto =Oggetto Coscienza (Divisione) Soggetto
Autoattività Causalità del Concetto Libertà Oggetto Materia Causalità
della Materia Necessità Libertà = Necessità Legge della
Libertà Libertà sotto la Legge della Libertà (Assoluta
Autonomia) Legge Morale. Come si vede, qui la realtà del principio
morale non è la realtà già attuata di ciò che esiste nel mondo meccanico
dei fatti naturali o nel mondo giuridico della convivenza sociale , ma la
realtà di ciò che deve esistere nel mondo morale della volontà; le prime
due specie di realtà sono sotto la categoria della necessità (leggi
naturali) o della coercizione (leggi sociali), l’ultima, invece, di cui
ora si tratta, è sotto la categoria della contingenza, della libertà (legge
morale). Infatti, il principio della moralità dianzi dedotto è
a un tempo un principio teorico, in quanto l’io si determina da sè
dinanzi a sè stesso come essere assolutamente indipendente e libero — il che
costituisce la materia della legge morale —, e un principio pratico, in
quanto l’io impone da sè a sè stesso 1’ attuazione della propria natura —
il che costituisce la forma (imperativa) della legge morale —. Ogni singolo io
è libero, ecco il principio teorico ; Ovatterai ogni singolo io come un essere
libero, ecco il principio pratico derivante, sotto forma di comando
, da quel principio teorico. In sostanza la legge pratica della
libertà potrebbe formularsi così: Opera secondo la conoscenza che hai della
natura e del fine originario degli esseri Giusta i principi della Dottrina
della Scienza, le cose che abbiamo posto fuori di noi non sono, in
fondo, che le nostre idee ; di qui l’armonia tra la determinazione
teorica degli oggetti e gl’ imperativi morali che da questa
determinazione teorica scaturiscono rispetto agli oggetti stessi. La
spiegazione dell’ accordo dei fenomeni con la nostra volontà sta
nell’accordo della volontà con la natura, a cominciare dalla natura nostra :
noi non possiamo volere se non ciò a cui ci spinge 1’ impulso naturale ;
questo impulso non è la legge morale, ma^ legge morale non può
nulla comandare il cui oggetto non sia nella sfera di questo impulso.
L’essere ragionevole, il quale deve porre sè stesso come assolutamente
libero e indipendente, non può far ciò senza in pari tempo determinare
teoricamente il suo mondo mediante la rappresentazione ; e la sua
libertà, che è un principio pratico, esige che questa determinazione teorica
da parte del pensiero si mantenga e si completi mediante l’azione da parte
della volontà. L’azione della liberta dell’ io sul mondo determinato come
rappresentazione consiste nella modificazione di uno stato del mondo
stesso mercè il dominio di un concetto anteriormente posto ; è la
produzione di una realtà conformemente a un’idea data come suo principio
; significa, per conseguenza, proprio l’inverso della rappresentazione, la
quale è la determinazione di un concetto secondo una realtà anteriormente
posta. E come l’enigma della rappresentazione, ossia il rapporto
tra la cosa e l’idea, trovava la sua soluzione nell’identità originaria
dei due termini, essendo la cosa un prodotto inconscio dell’ io, similmente qui
il l’apporto tra il concetto e la realtà ha il suo fondamento nel fatto
che la produzione di questa realtà non è la produzione di una cosa in sè,
di una realtà assoluta, che sarebbe in qualche modo esteriore alla
coscienza, ma è sempre uno stato di coscienza, una determinazione dell’
io. E allora non è più questione di sapere come sia possibile nel mondo
una modificazione da parte della libertà, poiché, essendo il mondo esso
stesso un prodotto della libertà , un limite che l’io pone a sè
stesso, è questione di sapere come sia possibile, mediante la libertà, un
cangiamento nell’io, un’estensione dei suoi limiti ; e se si osserva che
1’ io, oggetto di questa modificazione, è l’io limitato., ossia l’io empirico,
e che la legge della libertà, sotto la quale si operano nell’ io
empirico queste modificazioni, esprime l’io puro, l’io assoluto, è
evidente che il problema circa la realtà del principio morale, circa
l’attuazione della libertà , si riduce , in fondo , alla questione già
esposta anteriormente circa i rapporti tra l’io empirico, naturale, e
l’io eterno, assoluto Sittenlehre. Per dedurre ora la realtà e la conseguente
applicabilità del principio dell’ etica, bisogna dedurne la materia e la
sfera d’ azioue, bisogna stabilire, cioè, anzitutto l'oggetto della nòstra
attività in generale, poi la causalità reale dell’essere ragionevole. Quanto
al primo punto si ha questo teorema. L’essere l'agionevole non può attribuirsi
nessun potere, senza pensare in pari tempo qualcosa fuori di sè a cui
quel potere sia diretto „ ; egli, infatti, non può attribuirsi la
libertà, senza pensare più azioni reali e determinate come possibili per
opera della libertà, e non può pensare nessun’ azione come reale e
determinata, senza sup¬ porre all’ esterno qualcosa su cui quest’ azione
sia esercitata. Esiste, dunque, fuori di
noi e posta dal pensiero, una materia a cui la nostra attività si
riferisce e che può essere modificata all’ infinito. Quanto al secondo
punto si ha quest’altro teorema: u L’essere ragionevole non può
trovare in sè nessun’ applicazione della propria libertà, ossia nessun
volere reale, senza in pari tempo attribuire a sè stesso una reale
causalità o efficienza sul mondo esterno r , e non può attribuirsi una
siffatta causalità o.efficienza, senza determinarla in una certa maniera. Ora,
l’attività pura non può essere determinata in sè, altrimenti non sarebbe
più pura; essa non può essere 'determinata se non da ciò che le si
oppone, ossia dai suoi limiti. Questi limiti non possono es¬ sere
percepiti se non nell’esperienza sensibile e, inquanto oggetto
d’intuizione sensibile, consistono in una diversità o varietà di materia.
Onde l’io, il quale non sarebbe attivo se non si sentisse limitato, viene posto
come un’ attività che preme, per allargarli, sopra i limiti entro cui lo
rinserra la diversa materia che gli resiste, il nou-io che gli si oppone.
L’essere ragionevole, dunque, esercita una causalità reale nel mondo
sensibile, e tale causajit.à consiste non già nel creare o distruggere la
materia su cui si esercita — tale materia è condizione indispensabile
per l’attività dell’essere ragionevole —, ma nell’introdurvi ulteriori
determinazioni nuove ; u io ho causalità „ significa sempre: u io allargo
i miei confini che vai quanto dire: io attuo progressivamente il concetto
di libertà — secondo che mi è imposto dalla legge morale —, pur non giungendo
mai a un’ attuazione completa. Di guisa che la nostra esistenza, mentre uel
mondo intelligibile è legge morale, nel mondo sensibile è azione reale: il
punto in cui le due esistenze si riuniscono è la libertà intesa come
facoltà assoluta di determinare 1’ azione mediante la legge. Risulta da
quanto precede che il principio della moralità, ossia la libertà, non può
attuarsi se non opponendo all’attività pura dell’ io una limitazione o un
sistema di limitazioni, e imponendo alla medesima attività un
progres¬ [Abbiamo qui una delle idee fondamentali del sistema
ficbtiauo, cioè: l’impossibilità per noi di separare il sensibile
dall’intelligibile, la negazione del dualismo, l’assurdità di concepire nell’
àmbito della coscienza un carattere noume- nico radicalmente distinto dal
carattere fenomenico. Secondo Fichte — scrive Léon — il sensibile è la
condizione per l’intelligibile....; Benza il sensibile, il quale
determinandolo lo attua, il puro intelligibile rimarrebbe allo stato di
potenza indeterminata e vuota. Questa concezione segua la rovina del
misticismo, che pretende isolare lo spirito dal corpo e relegarlo in una
sfera chimerica ; l'Io iichtiano non è fatto di singoli pezzi separabili
ad arbitrio ; esso forma in tutti i suoi elementi una gerarchia, un vero
organismo. sivo ampliameuto di
questa limitazione o sistema di limitazioni. Il che si verifica anche quando si
tratti non di un fine ultimo, come la libertà assoluta, ma di fini
intermedi. Il più spesso’ci accade di non poter attuare immediata¬
mente un determinato fine scelto dalla nostra volontà, e siamo costretti,
per conseguirlo, a servirci di certi mezzi già determinati in*
antecedenza senza il nostro intervento : non perveniamo al nostro fine se
non attraverso una serie di gradi interposti ; che equivale a dire : tra
il sentimento da cui sono partito con la volontà e il sentimento a
cui mi sforzo di giungere intercedono altri sentimenti, di cui
ognuno è l’esponente dei limiti che mi si oppongono, limiti che con la mia
causalità, con la mia azione, io fo indietreggiare ogni volta di più,
estendendo cosi pi-ogressiva- mente la mia attività reale. La mia
causalità, dunque, appare come un’azione continua e diversa, come una
serie ininterrotta di sforzi e di sentimenti svariati ; poiché essa
è assolutamente una e identica in quanto attività, ma presenta tuttavia
infiniti aspetti multiformi a causa della multiforme resistenza che
incontra da parte degl’ infiniti oggetti esterni; — esterni, s’intende, e
posti indipendentemente da noi, per chi non adotti o ignori il punto di
vista della filosofia trascendentale e rimanga al punto di vista
della coscienza comune. Intesa nel modo descritto, la causalità dell’ essere ragionevole
contiene in sé la sintesi assoluta della conoscenza e dell’ attività,
determinantisi reciprocamente nella concezione e nel perseguimento di un
medesimo fine. L’es¬ sere ragionevole, infatti, non ha una conoscenza se
non in seguito a una limitazione della propria attività (tesi); ma
d’altro canto non ha attività se non in seguito a una
conoscenza (antitesi) ; conoscenza e attività sono poste come
identiche nella volontà (sintesi). Come si ottiene questa sintesi?
Basta pensare all’ essenza originaria dell’ io oggettivamente considerato
: sappiamo che tale essenza è assoluta attività e nuli’altro che
attività; e poiché l’attività, oggettivamente presa, è impulso, e nell’io
nulla esiste o accade di cui egli non abbia coscienza, cosi, posto nell’
io oggettivo un impulso, vien posto altresì iu esso un sentimento di
questo impulso. Il sentimento o coscienza primitiva dell’impulso è,
dunque, l’anello sintetico in cui con l’attività è posta la conoscenza e
con la conoscenza l’attività. Soltanto è da aggiungere che, se dal
punto di vista pratico la conoscenza e l’attività sono inseparabili, la
coscienza che accompagna qui l’impulso non è affatto la coscienza riflessa e iu
nessun grado una riflessione libera ; in essa non c’ è neppure quella
specie di libertà che caratterizza la rappresentazione e che ci permette di non
rappresentarci l’oggetto, di fare cioè astrazione da esso ; è una
coscienza tutta spontanea, che s’impone a noi con necessità, è un
sentimento di cui non siamo in nessun modo padroni. Il sistema d’impalisi
e di sentimenti di che s’intesse 1’ io empirico oggettivo deve quindi
concepirsi come natura, come la nostra natura, come cioè qualcosa di
dato, di non prodotto da noi, d’ indipendente dalla libertà , ma su
cui la libertà può esercitarsi, e si esercita, allorché l’io-soggetto ne
fa oggetto di riflessione e consente o no a soddisfarlo ; e invero, tosto
che riflettiamo sui nostri impulsi originari, non siamo più dominati da
essi ; sono essi, invece, dominati da noi, perchè dipende da noi assecondarli
o no ; comincia allora il vero ufficio della nostra libertà cosciente.
Nasce così la differenza tra la facoltà appetitiva inferiore del semplice
impulso di natura e la facoltà appetitiva superiore del medesimo impulso
sottoposto alla riflessione e alla libertà. Giova chiarire meglio la
facoltà appetitiva inferiore, prima di passare alla superiore. Abbiamo
detto che essa costituisce ciò che in noi si chiama natura; ma
bisogna distinguere la natura nostra dalla natura delle cose in cui
regna il puro meccanismo. Nel mondo meccanico non c’è attività
propriamente detta, c’ è soltanto una trasmissione di urti attraverso
tutta la serie di cause ed effetti, senza che nessun anello produca o
modifichi la forza trasmessa. Nella natura nostra, al contrario, c’è una
vera spontaneità, la quale non è ancora la libera causalità del pensiero,
del concetto, perchè è una necessaria determinazione dell’esi¬
stenza reale per opera di questa esistenza stessa, ma sta tuttavia al
disopra del puro meccanismo, perchè consiste in una determinazione
proveniente da una serie di cause ed effetti disposta non più secondo un
ordine lineare di successione, sì bene secondo un ordine ricorrente di reciprocanza
; quivi, infatti, le singole parti sono a un tempo effetti e cause del tutto,
onde si ha quel che si dice un or- (Per essere più chiari :
l’impulso e il sentimento che l’accompagna mancano di libertà; la volontà
e la riflessione che ne è condizione hanno per essenza la libertà; a parte,
però, questa differenza di capitale importanza ma soltanto formale, l’impulso e
il sentimento, per quanto riguarda il loro contenuto materiale, sono
identici alla volontà e alla riflessione; l’oggetto a cui tendono
necessariamente i primi diventa l’oggetto liberamente accettato o ripudiato
dalle seconde. gallismo, ossia una costituzione, la quale, lungi
dal dipendere da un’azione esterna, Ira in sè stessa il principio della
propria determinazione, è dotata insomma di spontaneità,. La reciprocanza
di azione tra le parti di un tutto organico in natura si spiega così: a
ciascuna di esse le altre non lasciano che una certa quantità di realtà,
onde ciascuna parte per la rimanente realtà che le manca non ha che una
tendenza (o impulso) risultante dallo stato determinato delle altre parti :
ciascuna tende a formare il tutto, a integrarsi con la realtà delle altre
; e cosi in un’ unità organica la realtà è in proporzione inversa
della tendenza (o impulso) derivante dalla mancanza di realtà; realtà e
tendenzfP (o impulso) si completano a vicenda ; ciascuna parte tende a
soddisfare il bisogno di tutte, e tutte a loro volta tendono a soddisfare
il bisogno di ciascuna ; ogni singola parte tende a combinare la
pro¬ pria essenza e la propria azione con l’essenza e l’azione
delle rimanenti, e questa tendenza giustamente si dice impilino plastico
(Bildungstrieb), cosi nel senso attivo come nel senso passivo della
parola, perchè è la facoltà a un tempo così d’imprimere come di ricevere
forme. Questa facoltà organizzatrice è universale, essenziale, inerente a
tutte le parti e a tutti gli elementi, onde ciò che si chiama un
tutto naturale, ossia un tutto chiuso, può altresì chiamarsi un prodotto
organico della natura, a costituire il quale certi elementi della natura,
in virtù della causalità di cui questa è dotata, hanno riunito il loro
essere e il loro operare in un solo e medesimo essere, in un solo e
medesimo operare. Ciò posto, ecco quanto accade in quel tutto organico
della natura che è l’io individuale, empirico, a partire dai più bassi
impulsi sino alle più alte tendenze. Iu ciascun io individuale,
appunto perchè esso è un tutto organico della natura, l’essenza delle
parti consiste in una tendenza a conservare unite a sè altre
determinate parti, e siffatta tendenza, se attribuita al tutto, dicesi impulso
all' autoconservazione ; alla conservazione, s’intende, non
dell’esistenza in generale, che è un’astrazione, ma di un’esistenza
determinata. L’impulso all’autoconservazione, che è poi la tendenza a
perseverare nel proprio essere, porta 1’ essere organico a inferire a sè
certi oggetti della natura; di qui l’appetito o la brama verso questi
oggetti, appetito o brama dapprima vaghi e indeterminati, quasi COME
IL PRIMO GRIDO INARTICOLATO DELL’ORGANISMO ANCORA INFANTE, POI SEMPRE PIU DETERMINATI
E DIFFERENZIATI, COME IL LINGUAGGIO ARTICOLATO DELL’ORGANISMO ADULTO. E — si
noti bene — non già la diversità degli oggetti determina lo
specificarsi dei vari appetiti e desideri; al contrario, i diversi modi del
desiderio, mediante le proprie determinazioni, si creano i propri oggetti. La
coscienza o l’intelligenza* che ci rappresenta gli oggetti non è che il
riflesso dei nostri istinti,, inclinazioni, tendenze, della nostra
vita pratica in generale; non, dunque, gli oggetti suscitano, quasi
loro fine, gli appetiti, ma gli appetiti hanno il proprio fine in sè
stessi, nella propria soddisfazione, e noi non perseguiamo, attraverso gli
oggetti, altro che i nostri desideri esteriorizzati nelle cose. Ma se è
così, se ciò che ci sfor¬ ziamo d’ottenere è non l’oggetto — il quale si
riduce a im simbolo, sì bene la soddisfazione della nostra tendenza, della
nostra brama, in altri termini, il nostro godi¬ mento, il nostro piacere,
si comprende come, tanto dal punto di vista della pura natura irriflessa,
quanto da quell» della riflessione sulla natura, sia il piacere il fine
supremo della nostra condotta ; di guisa che, nel primo passaggio
imme¬ diato dallo stato di pura natura allo stato di coscienza ri¬
flessa, la nostra azione cangia di forma — da necessaria e istintiva
diventa libera e riflessa, e tale cangiamento ne modifica radicalmente il
carattere, ma il suo contenuto rimane ancora il medesimo, è ancora il
piacere: al punto da far sembrare che l’uomo con la riflessione non si
elevi al di sopra della natura, se non per sottoporlesi meglio e
perse¬ guire con pili luce e sicurezza il fine edonistico. Ora, finché
è spinto al piacere e dipende dagli oggetti dei suoi appetiti,
]' uomo rimane confinato nell’ esercizio della facoltà appetiti va
inferiore. Ma l’attività ragionevole in lui tende con coscienza e riflessione a
determinarsi assolutamente da sé, a rendersi indipendente da ogni oggetto
che non sia essa stessa, quindi anche e soprattutto dal piacere; e allora
la nostra azione si differenzia da quella compiuta allo stato di
pura natura, oltreché per la forma, anche per il contenuto, es¬
sendo questo costituito non pili dal piacere — comunque ricercato, per
istinto cieco e necessario, ovvero per volontà , cosciente e libera — ,
ma dalla libertà stessa, che è l’es senza nostra e il nostro vero fine
supremo. L’ uomo si eleva cosi all’esercizio della facoltà appetitiva
superiore, di quella che appartiene non a lui prodotto di natura, ma a
lui spirito puro. Ciò non ostante, le due facoltà appetitive, l’inferiore e
la superiore, costituiscono un solo e medesimo impulso originario
dell’io, dell’io veduto da due lati diversi : nella facoltà appetitiva
inferiore, ossia nell’ impulso naturale, mi concepisco come oggetto, uella
facoltà appetitiva superiore, ossia nell’impulso spirituale, mi
concepisco come soggetto, mentre tutta la mia essenza si ritrova nell’
identità del soggetto e dell’oggetto, ò soggetto-oggetto. Dall’azione
reciproca dei due impulsi nascono tutti i fenomeni dell’ io ; ma entrambi
si fondono in un unico e medesimo io , onde debbono essere conciliati,
unificati ; ed ecco in qual modo : l’impulso superiore rinunzia alla
purezza della propria attività — purezza che consiste nel non essere
determinato da un oggetto —, lasciandosi determinare da un oggetto,
e l’impulso inferiore rinunzia al piacere in quanto fine, al piacere per
il piacere ; si ha così per risultato della loro unione un’ attività
oggettiva, il cui oggetto e fine ultimo è un’ assolute libertà,
un’assoluta indipendenza da ogni natura;'un fine, questo, proiettato
all’infinito e perciò irraggiungibile — raggiungerlo sarebbe porre termine in
pari tempo all’attività e alla natura che dell’attività è il limite
correlativo, la condizione indispensabile; un fine , tut¬ tavia , a cui è
possibile avvicinarsi sempre più, facendo uso della libertà e della
facoltà appetitiva superiore. Non si obietti qui — dice il Fichte (
Sittenlehre) — che un’approssima¬ zione all’infinito è contraddittoria,
in quantoche un infinito a cui potessimo avvicinarci cesserebbe d’essere un
infinito e diverrebbe in certo qual modo suscettivo di misura. L’infinito
non è una cosa, un oggetto posto come dato e verso il quale si
avanzerebbe come verso un termine fissato in precedenza, ma è igu ideale,
ossia appunto ciò che si oppone alla realtà del dato, ciò che nessun dato
può esaurire ; Infatti, grazie alla sintesi dianzi descritta, l’io
svelle sè stesso da tutto ciò che sembra trovarsi fuori di lui,
entra in possesso di sè e si pone dinanzi a sè come assolutamente indipendente,
essendo l’io riflettente indipen¬ dente per sè stesso, l’io riflettuto
tutfc’ uno con l’io riflettente, ed entrambi uniti in una sola inseparabile
persona, alla quale il riflettuto dà la forza reale e il riflettente la
coscienza. La persona così costituita non può più agire ormai se non
secondo e mediante concetti, e poiché tutto ciò che ha la propria ragion
d’ essere in un concetto è un prodotto della libertà , cosi d’ ora
innanzi l’io non agirà più se non liberamente, anche quando non faccia
che assecondare l’impulso di natura , perchè anche in tal caso egli non
opera meccanicamente ma con coscienza, e in lui non più il cieco
impulso naturale , si bene la coscienza da lui acqui¬ stata di questo
impulso naturale è il primo fondamento del suo operare, il quale perciò è
libero — come poco fa notammo — se non nel contenuto, almeno nella forma. Ma
che significa essere libero e agire liberamente? Prima di giungere alla
riflessione l’io è di natura sua e questo ideale clie portiamo in
noi stessi indietreggia dinanzi a noi man mano che ci eleviamo verso di
esso. Noi possiamo bene allargare i nostri limiti, inalzarci sempre più verso
la libertà, ma non possiamo mai sopprimere totalmente questi limiti, attuare
cioè la libertà; a qualunque grado di liberazione noi si giunga, la libertà
as¬ soluta rimane sempre un ideale. Insomma, .con l’idea di un progress
o infinito il Fichte risolve la contraddizione tra la libertà e la natura
: la natura deve tendere alla libertà come a un fine infinito, e se
l’infinito potesse essere attuato, la natura s’identificherebbe con la libertà
; la realtà di questo progresso non è nel conseguimento — impossibile — di un
fine fissato a un dato punto, ma nel valore sempre più alto della nostra
azione. (Cfr. Léon)] libero, ma per un’ intelligenza fuori di lui, non già per
sè stesso ; per essere libero anche agli occhi propri egli deve
porsi come tale , e come tale non si pone se non allorché diventa
cosciente del suo passaggio dallo stato indetermi¬ nato a uno stato
determinato. L’ io determinante e l’io determinato scftio un solo e
medesimo io, prodotto dalla sin¬ tesi del inflettente e del riflettuto,
dell’ io-soggetto e del1’io-oggetto. Per siffatta sintesi la concezione di un
fine diventa immediatamente azione e l’azione diventa conoscenza della
libertà. Senonchè l’indeterminatezza non è soltanto uon-determinatezza
(ossia zei'o), sì bene un deciso librarsi tra più possibili
determinazioni (ossia una grandezza negativa) ; altrimenti essa non potrebbe
essere posta e sa¬ rebbe un nulla. Ora, finché non intervenga la facoltà
appetitiva superiore, non si vede in che modo la libertà possa scegliere
tra più determinazioni possibili; perchè: o si trova in presenza del solo
impulso naturale, e allora non ha nessuna ragione per non seguirlo, anzi
ha ogni ragione per seguirlo; ovvero si trova in presenza di più
impulsi — la quale ipotesi non si comprende nel caso di cui ora si
tratta — e allora seguirà naturalmente il più forte ; nel- l’una e
nell’altra ipotesi, dunque, nessuna possibilità d’indeterminatezza. Siccome
però l’essere ragionevole non può esistere senza quella tra le condizioni
della sua ragionevolezza che si chiama sentimento morale e consapevolezza
della libertà, bisogna bene ammettere, nell’ impulso origi¬ nario
delirio, un impulso ad acquistare la coscienza e della moralità e della
libertà. Ma tale coscienza, si è visto, ha per condizione uno stato
indeterminato, e non si produce se l’io obbedisce unicamente all'impulso
naturale ; occorre, dunque, che vi sia nell’io un impulso o tendenza a
trarre dal proprio seno, e non già dall’impulso naturale, il contenuto o
l’oggetto dell’azione; occorre, in altri termini, che vi sia una
ten¬ denza alla libertà per sè stessa-, e che alla libertà formale
— quella per cui lo stesso risultato, che la natura avrebbe prodotto se
avesse potuto ancora agire, nasce invece da un nuovo principio, da una
nuova forza, ossia dalla coscienza libera — si aggiunga la libertà
materiale — quella per cui si ha non solo un nuovo principio operante, ma
altresì una serie di effetti tutta nuova anche nel contenuto, onde
non solo è l’intelligenza la forza che opera, ma essa intelligenza opera
qualcosa di ben diverso da ciò che avrebbe operato la natura. In virtù
della libertà materiale io mi sento emancipato dall’ impulso di natura,
gli oppongo resistenza, e tale resi¬ stenza, considerata come essenziale
all’ io, quindi come im¬ manente, è essa stessa un impulso, l ’impulso
pwro*dell’ io. L’impulso naturale si manifesta come iuclinazione e,
per il fatto che io posso dominare la sua forza e sottoporla alla
mia libertà, questa forza diventa qualcosa di cui non fo stima. L’impulso
puro, invece, in quanto mi eleva sopra la natura e mi pone in grado di contrappormele
con la più semplice risoluzione, si manifesta come tale da ispirarmi
stima e da investirmi di una dignità, la quale, essendo al disopra di ogni
natura, m’ impone rispetto verso me stesso; l’impulso puro, anziché al
piacere, porta al disprezzo del piacere ed esige l’affermazione e la conservazione
della mia assoluta indipendenza e libertà. L’adempimento di questa esigenza e
il suo contrario significano rispettivamente l’accordo e il disaccordo
tra l’ideale tendenza essenziale dell’ io puro all’assoluta libertà e il
reale stato accidentale dell’io empirico ; suscitano, quindi, il mio
interesse — m’interessa, infatti, ossia tocca direttamente il mio sentimento,
tutto ciò che lia immediata relazione col mio impulso fondamentale —, si accompagnano, dunque, a piacere o
dolore; ma — e questo è di capitale importanza — si tratta qui di stati
affettivi che non hanno nulla a fare con l’affettività comune, perchè
consistono in una contentezza e in un disgusto di sè la cui natura
non si confonde mai con quella del piacere o del dolore dei sensi. Il
piacere sensibile che nasce dall’ accordo tra l’impulso naturale e la realtà
non dipende da me in quanto sono un io, ossia in quanto sono libero ;
esso è tale da strappare me a me, da rendermi estraneo a me stesso e
da farmi dimenticare in esso ; è, in una parola, involontario , e
questa qualità lo caratterizza nel modo più esatto. Altrettanto vale del suo
opposto, ossia del dolore sensibile. Il piacere morale, al contrario, che
nasce dall’accordo tra l’impulso puro e la realtà, è qualcosa non di
estraneo ma di dipendente dalla mia libertà, qualcosa che potrei aspettarmi
in conformità d’una regola, come non potrei aspettarmi, invece, il piacere
involontario ; esso, quindi, non mi trasporta fuori di me, anzi mi fa
rientrare in me stesso e, meno tumultuario, ma più intimo del piacere
sensibile, m’in- [Intorno al concetto dell’ interesse Fichte fa una
specie di digressione ( Sittenlehre) per meglio illuminare la sua
trattazione sul sentimento morale e sulla coscienza morale. fonde,
in quanto soddisfazione e auto-stima, nuovo coraggio' e nuova forza.
Similmente il suo opposto, ossia il dolore morale, appunto perchè dipende
dalla libertà, è un rimprovero interno, si associa a un sentimento di
auto-disistima e sarebbe insopportabile se il sentirci ancora capaci di
provarlo non ci risollevasse dinanzi a noi stessi, e non ravvivasse la
coscienza della nostra natura superiore e della nostra assoluta libertà,
insomma la coscienza morale fdas Oetoissen), vale a dire : la
consapevolezza immediata dell’adempimento del dovere, dell’accordo cioè tra
l’azione (nel mondo della natura) e il fine ideale (la libertà). Ora, la
coscienza morale si connette strettamente con l’impulso morale, il quale
è di natura mista, perchè partecipa a un tempo dell’impulso puro e dell’impulso
naturale. Come ? Ogni volizione reale tende all’azione e ogni azione
si porta sopra un oggetto : ogni volizione reale, quindi, è empirica. E
poiché non posso agire sugli oggetti se non me¬ diante una forza fisica,
la quale non proviene che dall’impulso naturale, cosi ogni fine concepito
dall’intelligenza finisce per coincidere con 1^ soddisfazione di un
impulso naturale. Certo, chi vuole è l'io -intelligenza non già la
na- /M/'fl-iucoscieuza ; ma, quanto al contenuto, il mio volere non
può avere materia diversa da quella che la natura vorrebbe anch’essa, se
di volere fosse capace : non c’ è libertà circa la materia delle azioni. E
allora quale causalità rimane all’impulso puro, che pur non può esserne
destituito? Affinchè rimanga una causalità all’ impulso puro,
bisogna che la materia dell’azione sia conforme a esso non meno (Siltenlekre)
che all’ impulso naturale. Tale duplice conformità si comprende soltanto così: l’impulso
puro nell'operare tende alla piena emancipazione dalla natura ; ma i
limiti che l’attività dell' io impone a sè stessa costringono l’operare
entro i confini dell’ impulso naturale ; onde l’azione conforme a questo
secondo impulso diventa conforme anche al primo quando al pari di esso
tenda alla piena emancipazione dalla natura, si trovi cioè in una serie
di sforzi, continuando la quale all’infinito, l’io si approssima sempre
più all’indipendenza assoluta. Deve esservi una serie di tal genere, che
muova dal punto in cui la persona si trova posta per la propria
natura e si prolunghi all’ infinito verso il .fine supremo e ideale — si
badi bene a questo appellativo che esclude ogni possibilità, di
attuazione completa — di ogni attività, altrimenti uon sarebbe possibile
una causalità dell’ impulso puro : questa serie si può chiamare la
destinazione morale dell’ essere ragionevole finito, e seguendola
possiamo sapere in ogni momento quale è il nostro dovere. Il principio
della morale può, dunque, formularsi cosi. Adempì in ogni momento la tua
destinazione. Quel che in ogni momento è conforme alla nostra destinazione
morale, ossia al fine a cui si dirige l’impulso puro, è in pari tempo
conforme all’impulso naturale, ma uon tutto quel che è conforme
all’impulso naturale è conforme alla nostra destinazione morale. Appunto
perciò l’impulso morale è misto: esso riceve dall’impulso naturale la materia
dell’operare, dall’impulso pui'O la forma; per esso io debbo agire con la
coscienza di adempiere un dovere ; gl’ impulsi ciechi della natura, come la
simpatia, la compassione, la benevolenza spontanea, in quanto tali
non hanno nulla di morale, perchè contraddice alla moralità il
lasciarsi spingere ciecamente. L’impulso morale differisce profondamente
dal cieco impulso naturale, e molto ai avvicina all’ impulso puro, perchè la
sua causalità è ambigua (può avere effetto e può anche non averne),
perchè esso comanda: sii libero (cioè: sii in grado di fare e di
a'stenerti dal fare). E in questo comando appare per la prima volta
un imperativo categorico, un imperativo che è un prodotto nostro proprio
(nostro in quanto siamo intelligenze capaci di agire per concetti), e il
cui oggetto è il fine non subordinato a nessun altro fine. L’impulso morale,
infatti, non ha per fine nessun godimento ; esso esige u la libertà
per la libertà. È poi evidente in questa formula imperativa il
duplice significato della parola “ libertà la quale sta a designare
nel primo posto un operare in quanto tale, ossia un puramente soggettivo, e nel
secondo posto uno stato oggettivo che dev’essere conseguito, ossia 1’
ultimo fine assoluto , la piena nostra indipendenza da tutto ciò che è
fuori di noi. In altri termini : io debbo agire con libertà per divenire
libero; e soltanto determinandomi da me stesso e non seguendo altro che le
ispirazioni del sentimento del dovere agisco con libertà e divengo
veramente indipendente dalla natura, veramente libero. A questa
distinzione tra la libertà come attività e la libertà come risultalo , che è
di così grande importanza nel nostro sistema, se ne aggiunge un’
altra entro il concetto stesso di libertà intesa come attività: la distinzione,
cioè, tra la forma e la materia dell’attività libera; distinzione da cui nasce
la divisione della dottrina morale e con cui si passa all’ applicazione
sistematica del principio della moralità. Fichte discorre delle condizioni
formali della moralità delle nostre azioni, del contenuto materiate
della legge morale; e dei doveri. Il principio formale di ogni moralità
può enunciarsi così. Opera sempre secondo la convinzione che hai intorno
al tuo dovere. Questo imperativo o legge — che presuppone naturalmente e
logicamente una libera volontà— si scinde in due precetti, di cui 1’ uno
concerne la forma o la condizione : u procurati la convinzione di ciò che
è tuo dovere; l’altro la MATERIA o il condizionato. Fai ciò che ritieni con
convinzione tuo dovere 9 failo soltanto perchè lo ritieni tale Ora, la
convinzione nasce dall’accordo di un atto della facoltà giudicatrice coll’impulso
morale, e il criterio della giustezza della nostra convinzione è un
sentimento intimo al di là del quale non si può risalire, perchè con esso
si raggiunge 1’ espressione diretta della nostra essenza assoluta e della
nostra finalità. Per conseguenza, la coscienza morale, che in quel sentimento
ha radice, va immune per natura sua da dubbio e da errore, non può
ingannarsi, nè è suscettiva di rettifiche da parte di un’ inconcepibile
coscienti più interiore, è essa stessa giudice di ogni convinzione e le
sue sentenze non ammettono appello. Voler oltrepassare la propria
coscienza morale per timore che possa essere erronea, sarebbe come
voler uscire fuori di sè, voler separarsi da sè stesso. È condizione
formale della moralità, quindi, non decidersi [Della volontà iu
particolare e della sua natura cosi opposta al juro meccanismo, il
Pielite tratta nella Sitlenlehre] all’azione se non per soddisfare alla propria
coscienza morale, all’impulso originario dell’io puro, senza sottostare
ad altra autorità che non sia quella della propria convinzione, del proprio
giudizio. Chi, dunque, agisce senza consultare la sua coscienza, senza essersi
prima assicurato j delle decisioni di questa, agisce, come suol dirsi,
senza coscienza, e perciò immoralmente, è colpevole e non può imputare la sua
colpa ad altri che a sè stesso. Similmente opera senza coscienza, e
perciò senza moralità, chi si lascia guidare dall’autorità altrui, perchè
la convinzione della coscienza morale e la certezza della sua giustezza non nascono
mai da giudizi estranei, ma traggono origine esclusivamente dal soggetto:
sarebbe una flagrante contraddizione fare di qualche cosa che non sono io
stesso un sentimento di me stesso. In conclusione: in tutta la nostra
condotta (si tratti della ricerca scientifica, ovvero della vita pratica)
l’azione , per essere morale, deve uscire da un’intima convinzione,
perchè soltanto allora essa esprime veramente la nostra autonomia
spirituale. Ogni azione fatta per autorità (si tratti dell’ accettazione
di una verità che non risponde in noi a una convinzione, ovvero del compimento
di un’ azione che accettiamo come un ordine) va direttamente contro il
verdetto della coscienza, è male, è I colpa. Giova ricordare che per Fichte
non vi sono azioni indifferenti; tutte debbono essere riferite alla legge
morale, uon foss’altro per assicurarsi che sono lecite; onde anche le
azioni più indifferenti iu apparenza, vanno sottoposte a matura
riflessione, sempre iu vista della legge morale (Siltenlehre). Risulta
qui ancora una volta definitivamente stabilito il primato della ragione
pratica sulla ragione teorica; di quella ragione pratica che agli occhi E
facile argomentare da ciò quale sia la causa del male o della colpa
nell’essere ragionevole finito. Quel che in generale costituisce l’essere
ragionevole trovasi necessariamente ih ciascun individuo ragionevole,
altrimenti questi non sarebbe più tale. Ora, secondo la legge
morale, l’io individuale, finito, empirico, che vive nel tempo, deve
tendere a divenire un’esatta copia dell’Io primitivo, originario, infinito,
extra-temporale; ma, sottoposto com’è alla condizione del t^mpo, non può
acquistare la chiara coscienza di tutto ciò che primitivamente e
originariamente fa l’essenza dell’Io, se non mediante un lavoro
successivo e una progressione nel tempo. Finché questo lavoro più o
meno faticoso e questa progressione più o meno lenta non abbiano compiuto
nell’ io empirico individuale il passaggio dallo stato d’ irriflessione
al massimo sviluppo della coscienza morale, c’ è sempre luogo nella nostra
condotta all’immoralità, alla colpa, al male. Conviene, dunque, seguire
questa storia dello sviluppo della coscienza emjnrica, per vedere
attraverso quali fasi germogli e maturi il seme della moralità, notando a
tal proposito ohe tutto sembrerà succedere come casualmente, perchè tutto
dipende dalla libertà, e in nessun modo da una meccanica legge di natura.
Anzitutto, e al suo grado pivi dàsso, l’io empirico si riduce a
un’attività istintiva ; l’istinto, senza dubbio, si accompagna con la
coscienza, dista però ancor molto dalla di Fichte è veramente la ragione,
e nella quale si attua l’accordo dell’essere e dell’agire, dell’oggetto e
del soggetto, della produzione e della riflessione, e che ci fornisce
l’intuizione, la coscienza immediata dell’ Io assoluto. E risulta anche
come la morale di Fichte fluisca per essere in sostanza una morale del
sentimento.] riflessione; l’uomo allora segue meramente e semplicemente l’impulso
naturale e, così facendo, è libero per un’ intelligenza fuori di lui, ma per sè
stesso è puro animale. I Tuttavia l’uomo può riflettere su questo stato; e
tale riflessione è per natura sua un atto di libertà : essa non è
nè fisicamente nè logicamente necessaria, ma soltanto moralmente obbligatoria:
chi vuole adempiere la propria destinazione e acquistare in sè la coscienza
dell’ Io puro, deve riflettere su questo suo stato, e mercè tale
riflessione si eleva, quasi, sopra sè stesso, si stacca dalla natura,
se ne distingue e le si oppone come intelligenza libera ; acquista cosi
il potere di differire ‘la propria autodeterminazione e di scegliere quindi tra
più modi — la pluralità dei modi nasce appunto dalla riflessione e dal
differimento della risoluzione — di soddisfare l’impulso naturale.
Tale scelta si compie secondo una massima liberamente adottata
dall’ io individuale, e perciò profondamente diversa dal PRINCIPIO supremo che
scaturisce dalla legge morale e CHE NON È, COME LA MASSIMA, UN LIBERO PRODOTTO
DELLA COSCIENA EMPIRICA. Per conseguenza, nel caso di una MASSIMA
cattiva, la colpa spetta tutta all’ io individuale. Ora, in questa seconda
fase di sviluppo, dovuta al primo grado della riflessione, l’io acquista
coscienza del fine a cui tende 1’ impulso naturale, lo fa suo e adotta come
regola di .condotta la MASSIMA della felicità. L’uomo rimane dunque
ancora un animale, ma diventa un animale intelligente, prudente: è
già formalmente libero. Soltanto mette la sua libertà al servigio dell’impulso
naturale. La MASSIMA della felicità, per quanto sia un prodotto della sua
libertà, non può essere diversa da quella che è, e, una volta posta, egli le obbedisce
necessariamente. Senonchè la MASSIMA stessa, e con essa il carattere ohe
ne risulta, non ha nulla di necessario e non è detto che l’io individuale debba
arrestarvi»]/ se vi si arresta è soltanto sua colpa. Nulla lo costringe
L progredire, è vero, ma egli deve e può progredire, facenti uso
della propria libertà ed elevandosi liberamente a qn piu alto grado di
riflessione. Il male morale non deriva ile non dal fatto che l’uomo il
più delle volte non esercita la propria libertà, onde a ragione Kant riteneva il male radicale innato
nell’uomo e nondimeno prodotto dalla sua libertà. Quando però
— con nuovo miracolo della sua spontaneità — 1’ uomo, nella fase ora descritta,
esercita la propria libertà, una seoonda riflessione si compie, che, al
pari della precedente, ha carattere non di necessità fisica o logica, ma
di obbligatorietà morale, e in virtù di essa nasce una terza fase, nella
quale l’io individuale prende coscienza della sua opposizione rispetto
alla natura e della spontaneità del proprio operare, ed erige questa
spontaneità stessa, ossia la propria volontà, a nuova massima di condotta.
Non piu la ricerca della felicità guida ora le sue azioni, ma il
godimento di un’ indipendenza dal nou-io la quale non ammette freno al
proprio capriccio e fa di sè stessa il proprio idolo. Si ha, quindi, un
progresso verso la libertà assoluta, ma non ancora la vera libertà
morale, non ancora la volontà riflessa sottoposta alla legge del dovere.
Anzi, mentre la MASSIMA della felicità è, si, mancanza di legge, ma non
addirittura rovesciamento della legge > n l’ostilità contro questa, lt
MASSIMA della volontà egoistica e arbitraria, invece, può portare sino
alla trasgressione intenzionale della legge. Il carattere della condotta ispirata
a tale MASSIMA è soltanto la soddisfazione dell’amor proprio, dell’
orgoglio, del bisogno di dominare, ottenuta a qualsiasi costo, anche di
dolori corporei ; e appunto questa idolatria della volontà egoistica
spiega pressoché tutta la storia umana. Essa riempie grandissima parte
del teatro del inondo con le sue lotte e le sue guerre, con, le sue
vittorie e le sue sconfitte. u II soggiogamento dei corpi e delle anime
dei popoli, le guerre di conquista e di religione, e tutti i misfatti cou cui
l’umanità si è disonorata non si spiegano altrimenti. Che cosa indusse l'invasore,
l’oppressore a perseguire il proprio fine con pericolo e fatica ? Sperava
egli forse che per tal modo si accrescerebbero le fonti dei suoi godimenti
sensitivi? No davvero. 1 Ciò ohe io voglio deve accadere, a quel
che io dico si deve stare ’ : ecco 1’ unico principio che lo moveva. Un
siffatto culto della volontà egoistica certamente non è senza una certa aureola
di grandezza, poiché giunge anche al disinteresse: non al disinteresse
che deriva dall' obbedienza al dovere e che solo ha significato
morale, ma a un disinteresse di carattere impulsivo, derivante dal
desiderio di suscitare ammirazione, di cattivarsi stima, e che rimane
tuttora una forma di amor proprio e di orgoglio. E un culto che porta
sino al sacrifizio della vita — e ci vuole del coraggio a vincere in noi
la natura. Ma questo sacrifizio è senza valore etico, perché è fatto
soltanto al proprio io individuale, è puro egoismo. Certo, rispetto
alla fase precedente, la quale non mira che alla felicità sensibile, la
fase ora descritta segna un progresso e sta come a rappresentare l’età
eroica dello sviluppo morale. Ma dal punto di vista della moralità nulla di più
pericoluso che arrestarvisi, perchè essa ci abitua a considerare come
nobili e meritori, come rari e ammirevoli, come opera mpererogativa, atti
che sono semplicemente doverosi, e a considerare d’ altra parto tutto ciò che a
vantaggio nostro si fa da Dio, dalla natura, dagli altri uomini,
come nulla più che doveri verso di noi. Con siffatte pretensioni la
massima della volontà egoistica e senza, freno, adottata in questa fase,
è peggiore di ogni altra, perchè finisce addirittura col corrompere le stesse
radici della moralità : “ >1 pubblicano peccatore non vale più del
fariseo sedicente giusto, in quanto che nessuno dei due ha il menomo
va¬ lore ; ma il secondo è assai più difficile a convertire del
primo. Per elevarsi al disopra di questa terza fase basta che l’uomo —
con un terzo atto di riflessione, al pari dei precedenti spontaneo ma
inesplicabile, non necessario ma obbligatorio — acquisti coscienza chiara
di quell’ originario impulso all’ indipendenza assoluta che, considerato
(analogamente a un eminente grado di capacità intellettuale) come un dono
gratuito della natura, può chiamarsi genio della virtù, ma che, allo
^tato d’impulso cieco, pi'oduce un carattere assai immorale. Mercè la
riflessione, quell’ impulso si trasforma in una legge assolutamente
imperativa, e poiché ogni riflessione limita e determina ciò che è riflettuto,
anche quell’impulso sarà limitato dalla riflessione, e da cieco impulso
verso una causalità sconfinata diventerà una legge di causalità
condizionata ; riflettendo, l’uomo sa di dovere assolutamente qualche
cosa ; e affinchè questo sapere si tramuti in azione, bisogna che egli
adotti la MASSIMA: adempì il Ino dovere perchè è tuo dovere. Sorge così
la coscienza morale, la quale impone appunto alla volontà arbitraria,
alla volontà senza regola uè freno della fase precedente, l’obbedienza al
principio assoluto della ragione. Una volta conseguita questa chiara
coscienza del dovere, la nostra condotta vi si conforma necessariamente, essendo
inconcepibile che noi ci decidiamo di proposito e con piena chiarezza a
ribellarci alla nostra legge, a mancare al nostro dovere, appunto perchè
è la nostra legge, appunto perchè è il nostro dovere. Vi sarebbe in ciò,
oltre che una contraddizione evidente, una condotta veramente
diabolica, se lo stesso concetto u diavolo non fosse contraddittorio. Soltanto
può accadere che la chiara coscienza del dovere si annebbii, si oscuri, che la
riflessione non si mantenga sempre alle altezze della moralità, e la
nostra condotta, perciò, cessi di essere conforme alla legge morale. Il
dovere primo, quindi, e anche il più alto, è mantenere la coscienza del
dovere in tutta l’intensità della sua luce e «Iella sua forza. Bisogna
vegliare continuamente su noi stessi, alimentare senza tregua il fuoco
sacro della rifles¬ sione; possiamo fare di questa riflessione
un’abitudine, senza perciò renderla una necessità, senza pregiudizio
cioè della libertà, allo stesso modo diesi può fare un’abitudine
dell’irriflessione, con cui la coscienza empirica comincia, e persistere
in essa, senza renderla perciò una necessità e senza escludere quindi 1’
esercizio della libertà. Nella sua Ascetih «fa Animili/ zur Murai ( Ascetica
conir appendice alta Morale) — contenuta in Nuahgelarsene Werke, e
tradotta in inglese dal Kroeger. Se la coscienza morale svanisce del tutto, si
da non lasciar sopravvivere più nessun sentimento del dovere, noi
The sciunce of Elltics bij Fichte dianzi ricordato — il Pielite si
adopera a fornire il mozzo pratico per mantener viva o luminosa, una
volta nata per opera della libertà, la coscienza del dovere, 'l'ale mezzo
consiste ned’associazione delle idee, intermediaria tra la necessità della
natura e la libertà della ragione, e precisamente nel- l’associare in
precedenza la rappresentazione dell'atto futuro con la rappresentazione
dell’atto conforme al dovere. Occorre, in altri termini, che i due propositi : voglio
fare quest’azione; non voglio agire se non conforme al dovere, siano
indissolubilmente uniti in ima sintesi, e la funzione propria dell’ascetica
consiste appunto in questa associazione permanente e anticipata del
concetto del dovere non solo col concetto della nostra condotta in generale il
che sarebbe ancora troppo vago e astratto — ma con i concetti di
azioni determinate, soprattutto di quelle ABITUALI, QUOTIDIANE, in cui
più facilmente possiamo peccare per omissione o violazione del dovere. Mentre
invece per le azioni eccezionali e straordinarie difficilmente manca I
intervento della riflessione e la conseguente chiarezza della coscienza.
Di qui due regole: un esame di coscienza generale dei casi in cui siamo
più esposti al pericolo di cadere in colpa; e la risoluzione ferma e
sempre attiva di ridettero, in questi casi, sopra noi stessi e di
sorvegliarci, opponendo alla forza cieoa e alla resistenza passiva di certi
stati di coscienza, divenuti abitudini quasi invincibili, la causalità
iutelligAte della coscienza morale: è noto ohe spesso basta ridettero
sulla propria passione e rendersi consapevoli delle associazioni che la
costituiscono per liberarsene, dissociando mentalmente i fattori da cui
nasce e controbilanciando il piacere che ci aspettiamo dal suo
soddisfacimento col disprezzo che accom¬ pagna la trasgressione del dovere.
Ma, affinchè l’esame della propria coscienza abbia valore etico, bisogna
che non si riduca a una pura aulocontemplazione, a un’ analisi fatta
quasi per semplice giuoco estetico. Bisogna, invece, che si proponga la
nostra riforma morale, il miglioramento della nostra attività. Tale
esortazione, del resto, si rivolge non già agli uomini privi di coltura,
la cui vita é tutta rivolta all’azione, ond’essi non ridettono se non per
agire, ma agli artisti, ai letterati, e persino ai lilosotì e ai
sacerdoti, per i quali è frequente il grave pericolo di dimenticare il
valore pratico delle coso, di arrestarsi alla contemplazione e di nou
tradurre la speculazione in azione. ricadiamo in uno degli stati che
precedono la moralità e OPERIAMO SECONDO LA MASSIMA o della felicità o
del dominio arbitrario della nostra volontà egoistica. Se, invece, ci ri
mane ancora un sentimento vago e intermittente del dóvere. possono
verificarsi le seguenti tre specie d’indeterminatezza corrispondenti alle
tre condizioni che rendono determinato il dovere. L’indeterminatezza può
concernere la MATERIA del dovere, cioè l’applicazione della legge morale
a un dato caso : in ciascun singolo caso tra più azioni possibili
non ce n è che una conforme al dovere. Ma, per insufficiente
attenzione e riflessione, noi cediamo segretamente, e quasi a nostra
insaputa, a qualche altra sollecitazione e perdiamo il filo conduttore
della coscienza --; il MOMENTO del dovere : in ciascun singolo caso si deve
adempiere subito ciò che è dovere. Ma, per l’affievolirsi della
coscienza, ci illudiamo che non occorra affrettarsi a ciò,
procrastiniamo il nostro perfezionamento e ci abituiamo a
procrastinarlo all’ infinito --; la FORMA del dovere : l’imperativo morale
è categorico, esige obbedienza assoluta e incondizionata. Ma, se perdiamo di
vista tale sua caratteristica, consideriamo il dovere, anziché come un
comando, COME UN SEMPLICE CONSIGLIO DI PRUDENZA che si può seguire quando
piaccia e non costi troppa abnegazione, e con cui si può anche
transigere; di qui quei compromessi, quegli accomodamenti con la propria
coscienza che sono altrettanti modi di eludere la legge morale, altrettante
cause di torpore per la riflessione, e che pongono nel massimo pericolo
la nostra salvezza spirituale, quando per caso non sopravvenga
dall’esterno una forte scossa, la quale ci sia occasione a rientrare in
noi, a ravvederci. Quest’ultima maniera d’intendere il dovere, infatti, accusa
la morale di RIGORISMO impraticabile,
sotto lo specioso pretesto che l’ adempimento del dovere impone troppi
sacrifizi, quasi che non fosse appunto in ciò l’obbligo nostro. Nel sacrificar
tutto al dovere, la vita, l’onore e ogni cosa all’uomo più caramente diletta.
Quale che sia il modo di oscurarsi della coscienza, si può dire in
generale che la causa di questo suo oscurarsi e del conseguente smarrirsi
della moralità, la causa iu- somma del male, va ricercata in una
sconfitta della libertà. Se la riflessione che ci eleva alla libertà
consiste in una creazione da parte della libertà e quasi in un colpo
di grazia che ci strappa all’oppressione della natura, il mantenimento
della chiara coscienza del dovere non può essere che un perpetuo riprodursi di
questo atto creativo, una creazione continuata, uno sforzo incessante
della riflessione, dell’attenzione ; e appunto perciò al menomo affievolirsi
della nostra vigilanza consegue la nosti-a caduta e il trionfo delle
forze antagonistiche della natura, le quali sono sempre e necessariamente
in azione: tosto che cessa lo sforzo morale, l’impulso naturale
inevitabilmente ha il sopravvento e, con la luce della coscienza, si
spegue anche LA VIRTÙ. Ogni uomo, dallo stato di natura, con cui
s’inizia la sua vita in una specie d’innocenza — perchè sono ancora
ignorati gli stati superiori in cui l’innocenza primitiva assume aspetto
di colpa —, perviene necessariamente alla coscienza di sé stesso: a ciò
gli basta riflettere sulla libertà che ha di scegliere tra più azioni possibili
per soddisfare l’impulso naturale. SIAMO ALLORA IN QUELLA FASE IN CUI EGLI
OPERA SECONDO LA MASSIMA DELL’INTERESSE O DELLA FELICITÀ (Siuenlehre). In
questo grado di sviluppo rimano volentieri, trattenutovi dalla forza d 'inerzia
che l’uomo, in quanto essere sensibile, ha in comune con tutta la natura
fisica. È vero che, in virtù della sua natura superiore, egli deve 'strapparsi
a questo stato, e può farlo perchè dotato di libertà. Ma proprio la sua libertà
è impedita in questo stato, essendo essa alleata con quella forza
d'inerzia, da cui dovrebbe invece svincolarsi. Come farà egli a elevarsi alla
libertà, quando per questa elevazione stessa deve far uso della
libertà ? Donde attingerà la forza che faccia da contrappeso nella bilancia per
vincere la forza d’inerzia? Certamente non nella sua natura empirica, la quale
in nessun modo fornisce alcunché di simile. Gli occorre, dunque, un
aiuto superiore. L’uomo naturale qui non può nulla da sé – ma da un miracolo puo
essere salvato. Intanto sappiamo che l’inerzia, la pigrizia — la
quale a forza di riprodursi indefinitamente diviene impotenza
morale — è il vizio radicale, il male innato, il peccato originale. L’'uomo
è per natura pigro, dice assai giustamente Kant. Da pigrizia nasce
immediatamente viltà, il secondo vizio fondamentale dell’ uomo. LA VILTÀ
E LA PIGRIZIA D’AFFERMARE LA PROPRIA LIBERTÀ E INDEPENDENZA NELLO *SCAMBIO ili AZIONE
CON GLI ALTRI: donde tutte le specie di schiavitù fisica e morale tra gli
uomini. In genere si ha abbastanza coraggio dinanzi a coloro di cui si
conosce la debolezza relativa, ma si è disposti a cedere, a
umiliarsi, dinanzi a una supposta e temuta superiorità qualsiasi. Si
preferisce la sottomissione piuttosto che lo sforzo necessario a resistere. Precisamente
come quel marinaio che preferiva le eventuali pene dell’ inferno al lavoro
faticoso di correggersi in questa vita. Il vile si consola di
questa sottomissione forzata con l’astuzia e con la frode. Da viltà
nasce inevitabilmente il terzo vizio fondamentale: falsità. È questa il
risultato di uno sforzo indiretto che si compie per ricuperare
l’indipendenza perduta, quell’indipendenza che nessun nomo può
sacrificare ad altri cosi interamente come il pigro finge di fare per
essere dispensato dalla fatica di difenderla in aperta battaglia.
Falsità, menzogna, malizia, insidia derivano dall’esistenza di un oppressore,
e ogni oppressore deve aspettarsi tali frutti. Soltanto il vile è
falso. Il coraggioso non mente e non è falso. Per orgoglio, se non per
virtù. Ma come pud aiutarsi l’uomo, quando in lui è radicata la
pigrizia, la quale paralizza appunto l’unica forza con cui' egli deve
aiutarsi ? Che cosa gli manca propriamente? Non già t la forza, che egli ben
possiede, ma la coscienza della forza e l’Impulso a farne uso. E
donde gli verrà questo impulso? Non da altra foute che dalla
riflessione: è necessario che l’io empirico, avendo in sè l’immagine dell’Io
assoluto, e vedendosi in tutta la propria bruttezza, senta orrore di sè ;
soltanto per questa via potrà formarsi la coscienza di quel che deve
essere, soltanto di là verrà l’impulso. In genere gl’ individui che
formano la grande maggioranza degli uomini hanno bisogno di apprendere la
propria libertà da altri individui liberi, che essi contemplano come
modelli. Ma vi souo nella moltitudine spiriti eletti a cui fu dato di essere
gl’ iniziatori della moralità e quasi i primi maestri dell' umanità, per
es. i fondatori di religione. Si comprende come costoro, non avendo
attinto dall’ esempio altrui la consapevolezza della propria
indipendenza, e non trovando nella propria natura empirica il principio
dell’ emancipazione da questa natura empirica, si credano ispirati dall'
alto da una grazia soprannaturale, da uno spirito divino, mentre invece non
han fatto che obbedire alla propria natura superiore, all’Io assoluto, di
cui l’io finito e individuale deve divenire la copia fedele. Una volta emancipato dalla schiavitù della
natura e divenuto cosciente della propria libertà formale, l’uomo deve
far uso di questa per compiere l’infinita serie di azioni diretta verso l’assoluta
libertà materiale. Quale la materia di queste azioni? In qual modo l’ io
individuale si puo elevere gradatamente sino a quell’ indipendenza
assoluta, a quello stato oggettivo di libertà, che è il fine ultimo della
sua libera attività soggettiva? L’accennammo già. L’attuazione dello stato
di libertà non si ottiene se non determinando il mondo in funzione
della libertà stessa, operando cioè come chi considera e tratta le cose
dal punto di vista non della loro esistenza data, ma della loro FINALITÀ,
non del loro essere, ma del loro dover-essere, e le modifica perciò e le
adatta progressivamente nella direzione di questa FINALITÀ, di questo
dovere. Tale determinazione del mondo secondo l’idea della libertà,
determinazione posta come obbligatoria e come praticamente necessaria,
costituisce il sistema dei nostri doveri, la materia della moralità. In
altri termini, la morale propriamente detta non è che l’insieme delle condizioni
a cui il mondo va sottoposto e a cui deve prestarsi per essere strumento
all’ attuazione della libertà. Queste condizioni possono ridursi a tre,
perchè triplice è il punto di vista da cui può considerarsi il mondo.
Il mondo si può considerare in sè, come pura e semplice materia,
come natura corporea; o nel suo rapporto col pensiero, come materia di
conoscenza; o, finalmente, nel suo rapporto col volere, come oggetto
indispensabile all’ esercizio dell’ attività, come il luogo d’incontro delle
molteplici sfere di libertà individuale, come IL TEATRO DELLA SOCIETÀ. E per
la morale si tratta appunto di mostrare nella nostra natura corporea, nella
nostra intelligenza, e nella NOSTRA VITA SOCIALE, gli strumenti per
l’attuazione della libertà, la quale non può DIVENIRE REALE se non OPERANDO
sul mondo oggettivo, PER MEZZO del corpo, dell’intelligenza e DELLA
SOCIETÀ. Come, dunque, dobbiamo trattare, in vista del fine ideale da
raggiungere: il corpo, l’intelligenza, LA SOCIETÀ? Il nostro corpo, essendo da
una parte prodotto di natura, dall’ altra strumento della causalità del
concetto, funziona da intermediario tra la necessità e la libertà.
La volizione si esercita immediatamente su di esso, e per esso modifica
mediatamente il mondo esterno secondo i nostri concetti. Di qui risulta
chiaro un triplice dovere rispetto al corpo : 1) un dovere negativo : non
far mai del proprio corpo il fine ultimo delle proprie azioni ; 2) un
dovere positivo : conservare e coltivare il proprio corpo nell’interesse
della libertà ; 3) un dovere limitativo : evitare come illecito ogni
piacere corporeo che non si riferisca al fine ultimo della nostra
attività. u Mangiate e bevete in onore di Dio: se questa morale vi sembra
troppo austera, tanto peggio per voi ; non ce n’ è un’ altra „
L’intelligenza è la forma indispensabile attraverso cui può attuarsi la
libertà, poiché soltanto la riflessione dà alla libertà la sua legge;
fuori dell’intelligenza ci sarà 1’ istinto cieco, non già la coscienza
morale ; l’intelligenza è il veicolo stesso della moralità. Diciamo di
più-: per la legge morale , mentre il corpo è condizione materiale puramente
esterna e soltanto della sua causalità, l’intel¬ ligenza è condizione
materiale veramente interna e di tutta quanta la sua essenza. Di qui un
triplice dovere anche verso l’intelligenza : 1) un dovere negativo :
non subordinare mai materialiter — ossia nelle sue ricerche e
cognizioni — l’intelligenza a nessuna autorità, foss’anche quella della
legge morale ; la ricerca da parte della ragione teorica dev’ essere
assolutamente libera e disinteressata , non deve preoccuparsi di altro
che non sia l’acquisto della conoscenza ; 2) un dovere positivo : formare
l’intel¬ ligenza il più possibile ; il più possibile imparare,
pensare, indagare ; 8) un dovere limitativo : subordinare
formaliier l’intelligenza alla moralità, la quale rimane sempre il
fine supremo ; riferire al dovere tutte le nostre investigazioni ;
coltivare la scienza non per curiosità ma per dovere, es¬ sendo essa
strumento di moralità. LA SOCIETÀ, infine, può dirsi addirittura l’espressione
vivente della libertà, in quanto questa non si concepisce come qualcosa
d’individuale, ma soltanto come una recijjrocanza di RAPPORTI TRA PIU
INDIVIDUI corporei, intelligenti e VOLENTI. L’ideale della libertà,
quindi, si attua non nel singolo uomo , ma NELLA COMUNITÀ di tutti
gli uomini, in seno alla quale l’individuo DIVIENE PERSONA e senza la quale per
l’ individuo nessun perfezionamento, anzi nemmeno l’esistenza stessa,
sarebbe possibile, essendo individuo e SOCIETÀ termini correlativi,
coudizionantisi a vicenda. Se così è, se l’io empirico non può porsi
altrimenti che come individuo, e se come tale NON PUO PRESCINDERE DA SUOI
RAPPORTI CON LA SOCIETÀ, che vai quanto dire dalla esistenza di ALTRI
INDIVIDUI e dalla loro libertà, è evidente che egli non può voler
sopprimere questa esistenza e questa libertà, da cui sono determinate
l’esistenza e la libertà sua propina. La mia tendenza
all’indipendenza assoluta, fine supremo della mia attività, è dunque SUBOARDINATA
ALLA LIBERTÀ DEGLI ALTRI. Le libere azioni degli altri sono gli originari
punti di confine della mia individualità, e a esse io reagisco f non meno
liberamente, autodeterminandomi a quella serie di azioni che prescelgo e da
cui uscirà costituita la mia personalità, non essendo io se non
quel che mi fo • con le mie azioni, e non consistendo il mio essere in
altro che nel mio operare. Soltanto che mentre il mio operare, rispetto a
quegli originari punti di confine della mia individualità, ossia rispetto
ai liberi influssi degli altri, mi appare l’effetto della mia assoluta
autodeterminazioue, della mia libera causalità, quei punti di confine ,
quei LIBERI INFLUSSI DEGLI ALTRI, invece , mi appaiono come predeterminati a
priori. Alla stessa guisa che dal punto di vista altrui s’invertono le
parti , e agli altri appare liberamente autodeterminato il loro agire
su di me e predeterminato a priori il mio reagire su di loro. Il
che dà luogo, è vero, a un’ antinomia tra predeterminazione e
autodeterminazione, ma a un’ antinomia che si risolve facilmente cosi. Tutte
le azioni libere (le mie come le altrui) sono predeterminate ab aeterno
(ossia fuori del tempo) dalla ragione universale. Ma il momento in
cui ciascuna deve accadere e gli attori di essa non sono predeterminati.
Ecco, quindi, predestinazione e libertà perfettamente conciliate. Ciò premesso
- è evidente il-dovere fondamentale verso la società. Non impedire , con
l’esercizio della propria libertà, la libertà degli altri, hou trattare gli
altri uomini come cose, come semplici strumenti della propria libertà. Ma
anche nell’ interno di questo dovere sembra annidarsi un’ antinomia. Da una
parte devo tendere all’ indipendenza assoluta, all’ emancipazione
da ogni limitazione, dall’altra DEVO RISPETTARE LA LIBERTA ALTRUI, LA
QUALE E UNA VERA LIMITAZIONE ALLA MIA LIBERTA. Da una parte devo agire
sul moudo sensibile si da farne, come il mio corpo, il mezzo per giungere
al line supremo, all’ assoluta libertà, dall’ altra non mi è lecito modificare
i prodotti della libertà altrui. Come comporre questa nuova contraddizione?
Non difficile la soluzione. Basta supporre tra le molteplici libertà
individuali, anziché contrasto, vera COMUNANZA DI AZIONE. Se dal punto di
vista giuridico occorre una forza coercitiva -- l’autorità dello stato --
la quale, restringendo l’esercizio delle libertà individuali antagonistiche
, renda possibile il loro mutuo sviluppo , dal punto di vista morale,
invece, tutti gli individui sottostanno alla medesima legge, tutti
perseguono il medesimo fine, tutti sono in certo qual modo identici nella
loro condotta conforme al dovere. perchè tutti hanno il medesimo dovere,
e l’emancipazione degli uni, lungi dall’opporlesi, è necessaria all’emancipazione
degli altri, perchè l’indipendenza di ciascuno va di pari passo con
l’indipendenza di tutti, perchè LA LIBERTA, INTESA NEL SENSO MORALE, NON
SI ATTUA SE NON NELLA COLLETTIVITA DEGLI ESSERI LIBERI. Dunque, non già
limitazione o interferenza tra le libertà individuali, sì bene CONFLUENZA,
COLLABORAZIONE, CO-OPERAZIONE A UN’OPERA COMUNE, AL TRIONFO DELLE RAGIONE: il
rispetto della libertà altrui è qui compatibile con l’esercizio assoluto
della libertà propria, perchè questa e quella si accordano e si
completano reciprocamente, la liberazione dell’uno è in pari tempo
la liberazione di tutti. E invero, 1’ originaria tendenza
all’indipendenza assoluta non si riferisce a un determinato individuo; ha
per oggetto la libertà assoluta, l’autonomia della ragione in
generale. L’ultimo fine della moralità è il regno della ragione in quanto
ragione, il che NON SI OTTIENE SE NON NELLA COMUNANZA E CON LA COOPERAZIONE di
tutti gli esseri che partecipano della ragione, di tutta l’umanità ; la
libertà, — ripetiamo — non hì concepisce sotto la forma dell' individualità,
essa è di natura essenzialmeute sociale e universale, e non si attua nel
singolo uomo se uon in quanto questi da u individuo „ si eleva a “ PERSONA„
per confondersi in ispirito con tutti, gli esseri ragionevoli. Di qui
trae luce e spiegazione la nota formula kantiana. Opera in modo da poter
pensare LA MASSIMA DELLA TUA VOLONTA come PRINCIPIO d’ una legislazione
universale, formula più euristica che costitutiva della moralità, perchè
non è un principio — come sembra al Kant, a cui il metodo da lui
adottato interdiceva di penetrare sino al fondo delle cose — ma soltanto
una conseguenza di quel vero principio che consiste nel comando dell’ assoluta
indipendenza della ragione. Di qui deriva la necessità che
tutti-siano veramente liberi , che nessuno sia impedito nell’esercizio
dulia ragione e nell’adempimento del dovere, che ciascuno si adoperi ad
avvicinare sempre più quell’ ideale — per quanto destinato a rimanere
sempre un ideale — che è la moralizzazione dell’umanità. Soltanto l’uso
della libertà contrario alla legge morale ho il dovere di annullare ;
ma siccome ciascuno deve operare secondo le proprie convinzioni , cosi mi
è lecito cercar di determinare o modificare soltanto la convinzione degli
altri, mai la loro azione. E poiché non si può agire sulle convinzioni
degli altri uomini se non vivendo in mezzo a essi, anche per questa via
si ribadisce la necessità morale della società e il dovere per
ognuno di vivere in essa. Segregarsi dalla società significa rinunziare
ad attuare il fine della ragione ed essere indifferente al propagarsi della
moralità, al trionfo della libertà, al bene dell’ umanità. Chi si propone
di aver cura sola- [Secondo Fichte la suddetta formula
kantiana va intesa non già nel senso : — perchè un quid può essere
principio di una legislazione universale, perciò dev’essere MASSIMA DELLA
MIA VOLONTA — ma nel senso opposto : — perchè un quid DEV’ESSERE MASSIMA
DELLA MIA VOLONTA, perciò può essere anche PRINCIPIO di uua legislazione
universale. In altri termini, non la forma determina il contenuto della
moralità, ma il CONTENUTO determina la forma. Se la moralità ha per contenuto l’attuazione
universale della ragione, ne segue che ciascun individuo il quale operi di
siuteressatameute, secondo ragione, può pensare la propria condotta come
un dovere per chiunque altro operi nelle medesime circostanze. La proposizione
kantiana, appunto con questa universalizzazione della condotta
individuale , non fornisce altro che un eccellente mezzo di controprova
per accertarci se, agli effetti della morale , la condotta di un
individuo sopporti o no universalità, possa o no erigersi a legge per
tutti: è perciò una proposizione euristica, non già costitutiva della moralità.]
mente di sè, dal lato morale, in verità non ha cura neppure di si, perchè suo
fine ultimo dev’essero il prendersi cura di tutto il genere umano, la sua
virtù non è virtù, ma soltanto im servile, venale egoismo. Non già con
una vita eremitica, dedita a pensieri sublimi e speculazioni pure,
non già col fantasticare, ma soltanto con 1’operare nella e per la
società si soddisfa al dovere. La necessità etica della società e il dovere che
ne deriva all’ individuo di vivere in essa e di lavorarvi alla
moi'alizzazione degli uomini, operando sul loro spirito e formando le
loro convinzioni, implica l’istituzione di quella repubblica morale che
i?i chiama la Chiesa e che è condizione indispensabile per la reciproca azione
sociale diretta a produrre credenze pratiche concordi e con esse il progresso
della moralità. La Chiesa, infatti, rappresenta nel suo simbolo,
accettato da tutti i suoi membri, quell’accordo primitivo e, a dir così,
minimo, che solo rende possibile una comunità spirituale. Ma il simbolo
non è, nè può essere, che un punto di partenza o un mezzo, nou già un
punto di arrivo o uu fine ; esso è indefinitamente perfettibile mercè la
continua reciproca azione degli spiriti gli uni sugli altri e il
conseguente sviluppo della moralità, e non può, quindi, rimanere fisso e
invariabile. Così, appunto, l’intende il PROTESTANTISMO. Invece, come fa il papismo,
lavorare pur contro la propria convinzione a mantenere il simbolo in una
fissità assoluta, a rendere la ragione stazionaria, a costringere gli altri in
una fede già superata , significa, oltre che ignoranza, trasgressione
del dovere, perchè allora si fa del simbolo non più 1’ espressione
puramente prdVvisoria di un accordo destinato a permettere la discussione
delle diverse opinioni in vista dell’ ulteriore sviluppo morale della
comunità, ma la formula definitiva di una verità assoluta e immutevole,
il che sta in recisa opposizione con lo spirito della moralità, la
cui essenza consiste nello sforzo e nel progresso all’ infinito. Come la
Cliiesa è istituzione necessaria al perfezionamento morale per quanto riguarda
le convinzioni interne, COSI LO STATO E ISTITUZIONE NECESSARIA per quanto
riguarda le azioni esterne, l’operare sul mondo sensibile. Ciò che
sta fuori del mio corpo, ossia tutto il mondo sensibile, è patrimonio
comune e il coltivarlo secondo le leggi della ragione non spetta a me
soltanto, ma a tutti gli individui ragionevoli; di guisa che il mio
operare su di esso interferisce con l’ operare degli altri, e può accadermi ,
perciò, di arrecar danno alla libertà altrui, quando il mio operare
non sia all’ unisono con 1’ altrui volontà: il che assolutamente non mi è
lecito. Quel che interessa tutti io non posso fare senza IL CONSENSO di tutti, e senza seguire, quindi,
principi universalmente accettati, previo ACCORDO, tacito o esplicito,
circa una parziale restrizione volontaria e generale delle diverse
libertà individuali. Il consenso a questa restrizione e 1’accordo che
determina i comuni diritti e la reciproca azione sul mondo sensibile è
oggetto del cosidetto contratto sociale e costituisce lo Stato. Lo
Stato, grazie alle leggi conosciute e accettate da tutti i cittadini ,
rende possibile a ciascuno di essi di conciliare l’esercizio della
propria libertà col rispetto dovuto alla libertà degli altri; rende
passibile, iu altri termini, prevenendo eventuali conflitti nell’incontro delle
libertà individuali, quella convivenza sociale die è condizione strie iy
ua non della moralità'; di qui il suo alto significato e il suo
valore etico. La necessità del simbolo nella Chiesa, il rispetto delle
leggi nello Stato, impongono, non tanto alle convinzioni dell’individuo —
le quali sono incoercibili — quanto alla loro manifestazione e
comunicazione, certi limiti che non si possono oltrepassare senza
mettersi fuori del simbolo o fuori della legge, fuori, iusomma, della
comunità morale e civile ottenuta iu un dato momento del progresso
umano. E pur tuttavia si è tenuti non solo a formarsi una convinzione
indipendente da ogni autorità, ma anche ad affermarla e parteciparla agli
altri. Come conciliare questa contraddizione tra 1’ assoluta libertà delle
singole coscienze e il rispetto alla fede comune ? come risolvere questo
conflitto di doveri ? Non altrimenti che mediante una LIMITAZIONE RECIPROCA dei
due doveri , che vai quanto dire : ammettere la libertà assoluta delle
convinzioni e della loro comunicazione, ma circoscrivere questa libertà e
questa comunicazione a quel particolare gruppo sociale che è
il pubblico dotto. E invero, l’assoluta libertà delle convinzioni e
della loro comunicazione, se è impraticabile nel vasto ambito della
Chiesa e dello Stato , perchè per essere morale do¬ vrebbe raccogliere —
cosa impossibile — 1’ adesione unanime di tutti i membri della comunità
chiesastica e politica, è, invece, praticabile nel ristretto pubblico dei
dotti, il quale sta come anello di congiunzione tra la convinzione
comune e la privata. Il carattere distintivo del pubblico dotto è
uifa assoluti libertà e indipendenza di pensiero ; il principio della sua
costituzione è LA MASSIMA di non sottoporsi a nes¬ suna autorità , di
basarsi in tutto sulla propria riflessione e di rigettare assolutamente
da sè tutto ciò che non sia da questa confermato. Nella repubblica dei
dotti non è possibile nessun simbolo, nessuna direttiva
prestabilita, nessun riserbo ; tra dotti si deve poter dichiaral e
tutto ciò di cui si è persuasi, appunto come si oserebbe dichiararlo alla
propria coscienza ; giudice della verità sarà il tempo, ossia il
progresso della coltura. E come assolutamente libera è l’investigazione
scientifica, così pure libero a tutti deve essere 1’ adito a essa. Per
chi nel suo intimo non può più credere all’ autorità , è contro coscienza
con¬ tinuare a credervi, è dovere di coscienza associarsi al pubblico
dotto. Lo Stato e la Chiesa debbono tollerare i dotti, altrimenti
violerebbero» te coscienze, perchè nessuna po¬ tenza terrena ha il
diritto d’imporsi in materia di co¬ scienza. Lo Stato e la Chiesa debbono
anzi riconoscere la repubblica dei dotti, perchè questa è condizione del
loro progresso morale , in quanto che soltanto in essa possono
elaborarsi i concetti che modificheranno , perfezionandoli, e il simbolo
e la costituzione dello Stato: sin anche come pubblici ufficiali — per
es. nelle università — i dotti possono lavorare all’educazione degli uomini e
alla formazione scientifica degli insegnanti e dei funzionari tutti
della Chiesa e dello Stato. È da aggiungere, però, che il dotto,
insieme con l’incontestabile diritto che ha all’ esistenza, all'
indipendenza e alla massima libertà di ricerca e cri¬ tica nel campo del
pensiero, lia anche il preciso dovere di sottomettersi all’autorità della
Chiesa e dello Stato nel campo deU’azioue ; onde non è lecito a chi ne
faccia parte nè diffondere le propine convinzioni, ancora discutibili
e non universalmente accettate, tra i fedeli e i cittadini che
vivono fuori della repubblica dotta, nè , tanto meno , attuarle senz’
altro nel mondo sensibile , minando cosi, o addirittura sovvertendo, senza
il consenso di tutti, gli ordi¬ namenti e i poteri costituiti ; Stato e
Chiesa hanno il di¬ ritto di impedire ciò. Sarebbe un’oppressione della
coscienza proibire al predicatore di esporre in scritti scientifici
le sue convinzioni dissenzienti, ma rientra perfettamente nel-
1’ordine vietargli di portarle sul pulpito, ed egli stesso, se'è
illuminato, sentirebbe la propria immoralità quando facesse così.
In conclusione: l’ultimo fine di ogni attività sociale è l’accordo
universale tra gli uomini, accordo non possibile se non sul puro
ragionevole, perchè qui soltanto ritrovasi ciò che agli uomini è comune.
Col presupposto d’ un tale accordo cade la differenza tra un pubblico
dotto e un pub¬ blico non dotto ; scompaiono anche Chiesa e Stato. Condividendo
tutti le medesime convinzioni, a che servirebbe più il potere legislativo
e coercitivo dello Stato? Riunite tutte le coscienze individuali nella
visione diretta della verità assoluta, a ohe servirebbero più i simboli
provvisori e mutevoli della Chiesa ? Il pensiero e l’azione di
ciascuno confluirebbe col pensiero e 1’ azione di tutti, la legge
mo¬ rale troverebbe la sua espressione nella sublime armonia di
tutti gli esseri ragionevoli e buoni, nella suprema comu¬ nione dei
santi, l’io empirico e individuale, completamente liberato da ogni
limitazione, svanirebbe completamente in seno all’Io puro e assoluto, si
attuerebbe, insomma, nella realtà l’Ideale, l’Infinito, Dio. Il contenuto
materiale della moralità è tutto in Questo perenne e progressivo
attuarsi del regno della ragione nel regno della natura, è tutto in
questa ascensione, in quest’approssimarsi del mondo verso lo Spirito,
vei’so la Libertà. Da quanto precede risulta evidente che l’io empirico q
la persona è soltanto mezzo all’ attuazione del fine supremo
morale. La proposizione del Kant : L’uomo è /ine in se, è giusta purché
completata così : l'uomo è fine in .sr. ma per gli altri. Siccome la
legge si dirige a ciascuno e il suo fine è la ragione in generale , ossia
1’ umanità tutta quanta , ne segue che tutti sono fine a ciascuno , ma
nes¬ suno è fine a se stesso ; 1’ attività di ciascuno è semplice
strumento per attuare la ragione. Con che la dignità del- 1’ uomo non è
abbassata, è anzi inalzata, poiché a ciascun individuo vien affidato il
raggiungimento del fine univer¬ sale della ragione e dalla cura e dall’
attività di lui di¬ pende l’intera comunità degli esseri ragionevoli,
mentre egli , invece, non dipende da nulla. Ciascuno diventa Dio
nella misura che gli è possibile , ossia con riguardo alla libertà degli
altri, e appunto perchè tutta la sua iudivi- dualità scompare, egli diventa
pura rappresentazione della legge morale nel mondo sensibile, vero Io
puro. Errano di molto coloro che pongono la perfezione in pie
medita¬ zioni, in un devoto covare sopra sé stessi, e di qui aspettano
l’annientarsi della propria individualità e il loro confluire culi la divinità;
la loro virtù è, o rimane, e geliamo ; essi vogliono fare perfetti
soltanto se stessi. La vera virtù, invece, consiste nell’operare, e
nell’operare per la comu¬ nità : è quindi oblio, abnegazione intera di sè
nell’interesse della totalità degli esseri ragionevoli. Se
cosi è, se l’io empirico o individuale serve sola¬ mente di mezzo
all’attuazione del fine supremo, ossia all’avvento del regno della ragione, ne
segue che i doveri verso l’io empirico sono mediati e condizionati di
fronte a quelli che, riferendosi direttamente al fine supremo , diconsi
im¬ mediati e incondizionati, ossia assoluti. Senonchè la pro¬
mozione del fine supremo è possibile soltanto in virtù di una ben
disegnata divisione di lavoro, altrimenti potrebbe molto accadere in più
modi, e molto non accadere affatto. È necessario, dunque, attuare una
tale divisione di lavoro, mediante 1’ istituzione di divei'se professioni
, da cui na¬ scono doveri diversi, che diremo particolari o
trasferibili (perchè s’impongono soltanto a chi abbia scelto quella
data professione) di fronte ai doveri che sono generali o intrasferibili
(perchè s’impongono indistintamente a tutti gli esseri umani). Combinando
questa seconda classificazione dei doveri, fatta dal punto di vista del
soggetto della moralità, con la precedente, fatta dal punto di
vista dell’oggetto della moralità, si hanuo quattro specie di
doveri: generali condizionati; particolari condizionati; generali
incondizionati; e particolari incondizionati. I doveri generali condizionati —
abbiamo dette — ' si riferiscono all’io empirico in quanto mezzo e
strumento indispensabile per 1 adempimento della legge morale:
primo tra essi, dunque , V autoconservazione , la conservazione
, cioè , di questo mezzo o strumento. *L’ autoconservazione già
richiesta dal diritto naturale come condizione ne¬ cessaria al I attuarsi
di quel futuro da cui attendiamo la soddisfazione implicita nell’oggetto
del nostro volere pre¬ sente , e perciò come qualcosa di relativo —
diventa per la moralità materia di un comando assoluto ; per 1’
uomo morale si tratta non più di attendere un risultato più o meno
egoistico e interamente conseguibile nel tempo, ma di lavorare
disinteressatamente all’attuazione di quel fine supremo di cui egli non
potrà mai godere , perchè posto all’ infinito. Dal dovere
dell’ autoconservazione nasce : — a) un divieto : evita tutto ciò che,
secondo la tua coscienza, può mettere in pericolo la tua conservazione in
quanto stru¬ mento della moralità (il digiuno e 1’ intemperanza in riguai
do al corpo, l’inerzia intellettuale, il soverchio sforzo, l’occupazione
irregolare, il disordine della fantasia, la coltura unilaterale, ecc. in
riguardo all’ intelligenza) ; non espone al pericolo la tua salute, il
tuo corpo, la tua vita, quando non vi sia necessità morale. Segue da ciò
la più recisa condanna del suicidio : la moralità può comandare di
esporre la vita, non già di distruggerla ; la vita è la condizione stessa
dell’ adempimento del dovere, e il sui¬ cidio, distruggendo la vita, la
sottrae appunto al dominio della legge ; suicidarsi significa dichiarare
di non voler più adempiere il dovere. — b) un comando : opera tutto
quello che ritieni necessario alla tua conservazione (il buon
mauteuimeuto del corpo, il nuo adattamento perfetto ai fini che
deve conseguire, la coltura dell’intelligenza, la ricreazione estetica,
eco.). Non va mai dimenticato, però, che il dovere dell’auto-
conservazioue è condizionato , essendo l’io empirico sem¬ plice strumento
della moralità : quindi , dove il fine della moralità non fosse
compatibile col dovere «Iella conserva¬ zione , sarebbe moralmente
necessario che la vita dell’ in¬ dividuo venisse sacrificata a quel fine,
che il dovere coudi- zionato fosse subordinato al dovere incondizionato :
quando la moralità lo esige, ho il dovere di arrischiare la mia
vita, e tutti i pretesti con cui cercassi di nascondere la mia viltà —
per es., quello di risparmiarmi la vita per operare ancora dell’ altro
bene che altrimenti rimarrebbe incompiuto — andrebbero contro il dovere,
il quale co¬ manda in modo assoluto e non ammette indugi al suo
adempimento. Tra i doveri particolari condizionati — attinenti , cioè, ai
diversi uffici e alle diverse professioni individuali — sta anzitutto quello
d’avere un ufficio, d’esercitare una professione nell’interesse della
società, di contribuire in qualche misura all’ esistenza e all’
organizzazione sociale ; poi 1’ altro di scegliersi a ogni modo un
ufficio , una pro¬ fessione, e non già secondo l’inclinazione, ma con la
coscienza d’ avere la migliore attitudine all’ uno o all’ altra ,
considerate le proprie forze , la propria coltura , le condi¬ zioni
esterne dipendenti da noi , poiché non il sodisfaci- mento dei nostri
gusti dev’ essere lo scopo della nostra vita, ma 1’ avanzamento del fine
della ragione : onde gli uomini uou dovrebbero scegliersi uno stato prima
d’essere giunti alla necessaria maturità della ragione, e sino a
questa maturità si dovrebbe educarli tutti allo stesso modo; infine il
dovere di attendere con tutta coscienza all’ufficio o alla professione
prescelta, formando sempre meglio all’uno o all’ altra il corpo e lo
spirito , secondo che più occorre (all’agricoltore, per es., occorre più
la forza e la resistenza fisica , all’ artista la destrezza e 1’ agilità
dei movimenti, allo scienziato la coltura spirituale in tutte le
direzioni, ecc.). Di una gerarchia delle professioni e degli uffici
secondo il loro grado di dignità , si può parlare dal punto di vista
sociale soltanto nel senso che le molteplici occupazioni umane sono
subordinate le une alle altre come il condi¬ zionato e la condizione,
come il mezzo e il fine ; ma dal punto di vista morale esse hanno tutte
lo stesso valore , tutte la stessa dignità : quel che importa è
adempieide bene. I doveri generali incondizionati si riferiscono
non più allo strumento, ma al fine stesso della moralità , che è il
dominio della ragione nel mondo sensibile e nella tota¬ lità degli
individui per opera di ciascun individuo. Primo tra essi il dovere
verso quella libertà formale di tutti gli esseri ragionevoli, nella quale
sta 1’ origine , la radice stessa della moralità. La libertà formale di
eia- scun individuo poggia sopra due condizioni : la permanenza del
rapporto tra la volontà individuale e il corpo che ue è 1’ organo
esecutivo; la permanenza del rapporto tra il corpo individuale e il mondo
sensibile che ne è la sfera d’ azione. Di qui due specie di doveri
concerneuti l’inviolabilità: A) del corpo altrui; B) della altrui libertà
d’azione: L'inviolabilità del corpo altrui implica; il divieto di esercitare
qualsiasi violenza o coer¬ cizione fisica su altri (la condanna, quindi,
della schiavitù, della tortura, dell’ omicidio eoe.); il comando
d’aver cura della vita e della salute degli altri come della
propria, essendo gli altri, al pari di noi, strumenti della
moralità (ama il tuo prossimo come te stesso); L’ altrui libertà
d’azione esige : — in primo luogo l’esatta conoscenza dei rapporti tra le
cose, senza la quale manca ogni garanzia che il risultato dell’ azione
sarà conforme al disegno della volontà ; di qui il dovere della veracità,
il quale implica: il divieto d’ingannare il prossimo (con l’inganno si danneggia
la libertà degli altri, trattandoli non come persone ma come cose) e la
conseguente condauna DEL VENIR MENO ALLE PROMESSE E DEL MENTIRE. Nessuna
menzogna è lecita, neppure la menzogna pietosa, o la pretesa menzogna necessaria,
neppure col pretesto dell’interesse altrui, o, peggio ancora, con quello
dell’ interesse della moralità, perchè la menzogna stessa, per essenza
sua, nasce da viltà ed è sempre radicalmente immorale; comando
d’illuminare e istruire il prossimo e di COMUNICARGLI LA VERITA. In
secondo luogo la proprietà, ossia quella sfera d’azione nel mondo
sensibile senza la quale manca, oltreché la materia prima per attuare i
disegni della propria volontà, altresì la sicura coscienza di non
disturbare, con l’esercizio della propria libertà, la libertà degli
altri, come esige la legge morale ; di qui il dovere dell’ istituzione e
della conserva¬ zione della proprietà, il quale implica : a) il divieto
di distruggerla, usurparla o menomarla in qualsiasi maniera; il comando
d’acquistarsi una proprietà e di procurarne una a ciascun
individuo (come ogni oggetto dev’ èssere proprietà di ciascuno affinchè
tutto il mondo sensibile rientri nel dominio della ragione, così ognuno
deve avere una proprietà ; in uno Stato in cui un sol cittadino non
abbia una proprietà, ossia una sfera esclusiva se non di oggetti, almeno
di diritti a certe azioni, non esiste in ge¬ nerale nessuna legittima
proprietà ; la beneficenza consiste non nel fare l’elemosina, ma nel
fornire a ciascuno il modo di vivere del proprio lavoro). In fatto di
libertà non può mai nascere conflitto tra esseri che operino
secondo ragione ; ma quando della libertà si faccia un uso contrario al
diritto, nasce collisione tra determinati atti di più individui e viene
posta in pericolo , quindi, la vita o la proprietà , insomma la libertà
del singolo. E poiché è proprio dello Stato attuare l’idea della
legalità, così spetta allo Stato appianare gli eventuali conflitti tra
individui , contenendo , mediante la forza della legge giuridica, ciascuno
entro i propri confini. Non sempre , però , lo Stato può immediatamente
intervenire a comporre contese : sottentra allora il dovere della persona
privata. È dovere universale, in tal caso, salvare dal pericolo la
libertà del1’ essere ragionevole, senza far distinzione se si tratti di
noi o di altri, perchè tutti, indistintamente , siamo strumenti della logge
morale. Se sono io l’aggredito, il dovere dell’ autoconservazione
m’impone di difendermi con tutte le forze ; se è in pericolo il mio
simile a me vicino, l’amore del prossimo m’impone di salvarlo anche a
rischio della mia vita ; se più di uno è assalito nello stesso
tempo, si devo portare aiuto anzitutto a quello ohe si può salvare
più presto e del quale oi accorgiamo prima. In questo adempimento del
dovere non può essere mai mio fine uccidere 1’ aggressore , il nemico , ma
soltanto disarmarlo ; posso cercare d’indebolirlo , di ridurlo all’
impotenza . di ferirlo , ma sempre in modo che la sua morte non sia
il mio fine. u Se, peraltro, rimanesse ucciso, ciò dipende dal
caso, contro la mia intenzione, e io non sono perciò responsabile „. Si deve,
insomma, trattare il nemico con 1’ amore dovuto a ogni altro prossimo,
perchè è aneli’ egli strumento della moralità e se dalle sue azioni per
il momento non si può concludere che 1’ opposto, non si deve, tuttavia ,
mai disperare che egli sia capace di miglioramento. L’ uomo animato da
sentimento morale non ha. nè riconosce, nessun nemico personale; chi
sente piu vivamente un’ ingiustizia soltanto perchè fatta a lui, è ancora
un egoista, è ancora lontano dalla vera moralità. La libertà formale altrui,
verso la quale s’impongono i doveri ora descritti, è condizione
necessaria ma non sufficiente per la moralità negli altri ; questa è resa
possibile da quella , ma, alfiuchè sia anche reale, bisogna che gli
altri prendano di fatto coscienza del loro dovere. Di qui il comando, per
chi si sia già elevato alla coscienza del dovere, di allargare e
promuovere la vita morale intorno a sè, di elevare gli altri alla
moralità. In qual modo? Poiché sarebbe assurdo voler produrre la virtù con
mezzi coercitivi, con premi o gastighi : la moralità non si lascia
imporre dal di fuori, nè per forza , ma nasce soltanto da una
determinazione interiore ; come può, dunque, tale determinazione nascere per
opera di un altro in colui che. ne è il soggetto e che deve possedere già
dentro di sé le condizioni atte a produrla? 14li è che, per chi
guardi bene, realmente esiste la possibilità, di un influsso ^morale
da coscienza a coscienza, ed esiste grazie a un sentimento che serve di
leva alla virtù, ma il cui sviluppo esige ap¬ punto un’ azione dal di
fuori, l’azione dell’esempio altrui : è questo il sentimento del rispetto
o della stima, il quale, sempre latente nel cuore dell’uomo, da cui è
inestirpa¬ bile, si desta, dinanzi alla condotta virtuosa degli
altri, suscita, a sua volta, il bisogno di provare il medesimo
sentimento dinanzi alla condotta propria, il bisogno, cioè,
dell’autostima, e sprona, per tal via, alla moralità. Sorge, così, per
ognuno il dovere del buon esempio, essendo l’esempio il vero strumento
dell’educazione morale. E poiché l’esempio, per avere efficacia, per agire
sulla coscienza altrui, dev’ essere pubblico, ne segue che anche la
pubblicità della condotta morale è per noi un dovere : essa nasce dalla
franchezza dell’ operare virtuoso e non ha nulla di comune con 1’
ostentazione, la quale deriva dal desiderio d’ essere ammirato. I doveri
particolari condizionati si dicono così perchè hanno sempre per oggetto
il fine supremo della moralità, il dominio della ragione, ina, anziché
all’umanità o alla società in genere, si riferiscono a ben
determinate relazioni umane, a ben definiti organismi sociali,
quale che sia la loro origine , vuoi da una stabile legge di na¬
tura — nel qual caso diconsi naturali — vuoi dalla mo¬ bile scelta delle
singole volontà — nel qual caso diconsi artificiali. Dalle relazioni naturali
nascono i doveri di stato, dalle artificiali i doveri di vocazione. Due
relazioni naturali sono possibili per l’uomo, e insieme costituiscono
l’organismo sociale della famiglia : la relazione tra coniugi, la
relazione tra genitori e figli. Di qui due specie di doveri di stato : doveri
tra coniugi, doveri tra genitori e figli, La relazione coniugale è già 1’
inizio della moralità nella natura, segna già il passaggio da questa a
quella , perchè è uno stato che da una parte si fonda sopra un impulso
naturale — l’istinto sessuale — dall’ altra implica, in entrambi x sessi,
sentimenti — reciproca dedizione completa e perpetuo reciproco amore, reciproca
fedeltà — che trasformano la sensualità brutale in una spiritualità umana. Il
coniugio , as¬ sociazione naturale e morale a un tempo, è
condizione precipua per l’esistenza di quella società che vedemmo
essere a sua volta condizione cosi indispensabile per 1’ attuarsi della
moralità, e, in quanto t,ale, costituisce un dovere che implica : a) il comando
di contrarre matrimonio, quando si verifichi la sua base naturale, 1’
amore, (l’individuo umano fisico non è un uomo o una donna, è, a un
tempo, 1’ uno e 1’ altra ; lo stesso dicasi dell’ individuo umano morale
: vi sono in lui aspetti dell’ umanità — e proprio i più nobili e
disinteressati — i quali solamente nel matrimonio possono formarsi ;
perciò u rimaner celibi senza propria colpa è una grande infelicità, ma
rimaner celibi per propria colpa è una gran colpa „) ; fi) il
divieto di relazioni sessuali fuori del matrimonio (queste relazioni,
infatti, sono fondate o sull’ amore della donna , e allora s’ impone
moralmente il matrimonio , ovvero soltanto sul' piacere o sull’interesse,
ohe vai quanto dire sull’indegnità della donna, e allora sono immorali
non solo per la donna ohe si avvilisce, ma anche per l’uomo che
l’avvilisce, che vede in lei non più un essere umano e ragionevole ,
ma un semplice strumento di voluttà ('). b) La relazione tra
genitori e figli dà luogo a due serie inverse di doveri : u) da parte dei
genitori il dovere di vigilare la vita e la salute dei loro nati e in
pari tempo di suscitare e favo¬ rire in essi lo sviluppo della libertà
secondo la direzione del fine umano : insomma il dovere dell’allevamento
e del- P educazione alla moralità. L’adempimento di questo do¬ vere
— che del resto è una specificazione del dovere uni¬ versale che a tutti
incombe di plasmare sè e gli altri in conformità della legge morale —
risponde nella famiglia a un bisogno del cuore, perchè la prole, per i
coniugi, non è semplicemente prossimo , ma il prodotto del loro
reci¬ proco amore ; (1) da parte dei figli, se minorenni il dovere
di obbedienza, se maggiorenni il dovere di rispetto, venerazione, assistenza ai
genitori ( ! ). Due relazioni artificiali ,ma non meno indispen¬
sabili delle naturali alla vita comune, possono essere sta¬ bilite dalla
libera scelta dei singoli individui e insieme costituiscono l’organismo
sociale dello Stato: a) agire di¬ rettamente sugli uomini , in quanto
esseri ragionevoli ; agire sulla natura, in quanto mezzo o strumento per
le nostre azioni verso gli uomini. Su questa base e in forza della
suaccennata necessità di una armonica divisione del lavoro movale e di una
organizzazione gerarchica dell’ at- 1’ attività degl’ individui per la
promozione del fine su¬ premo, si distinguono due specie di classi
sociali, con due corrispondenti specie di doveri di vocazione : a) classi
su¬ periori (scienziati, educatori, artisti, impiegati), che lavo-
t vano al progresso spirituale della società, e sono,
perciò, quasi 1’ anima dello Stato ; b) classi inferiori (minatori,
agricoltori , artigiani, commercianti) che assicurano 1’ esi¬ stenza
economica della società e sono, perciò, quasi il corpo dello
&tato. a) Quali i doveri di vocazione delle classi superiori
? L’ uomo allora soltanto adempirà la sua vera destina¬ zione quando
abbia una visione chiara del dovere ; è ne¬ cessario, dunque, formare
anzitutto la sua conoscenza teo¬ rica. Tale ufficio è la missione del
dotto (*). Chi consideri tutti gli uomini come una sola famiglia , è
tratto a fare delle loro cognizioni un unico sistema, il quale si
accresce e si elabora attraverso i secoli, come si accresce e si
ela¬ bora attraverso gli anni l’esperienza del singolo individuo.
Ciascuna generazione, quindi, eredita dal passato un tesoro di formazione
scientifica, che la classe dotta è chiamata a conservare e aumentare. I
dotti sono i depositari e quasi 1’ archivio della coltura della loro età
; non però alla ma¬ niera dei non dotti, che si arrestano ai risultati,
si bene come chi possiede anche i principi ohe condussero lo spi-
(*) L’essenza e la missione del dotto furono più volte per il
Fichte argomento di conferenze e di lezioni. Vedi in proposito nel voi.
VI dei Sàmmtl. Werke Ueber die Bestimmung des Gelchrten (le¬ zioni tenute
a Erlangen) ; e nel voi. Ili dei Nachgel. Werhe, Ueber die Bestimmung des
Gelchrten (cinque lezioni tenute a Berlino ). A rito
umano a questi risultati. E primo dovere del dotto, quindi, acquistare
una veduta stori co-filosofica del cam¬ mino della scienza sino al suo
tempo: altrimenti egli non potrebbe nè intendere il significato della
verità , uè epu¬ rarla dagli errori che 1* offuscano. È inoltre dovere
del dotto amare rigorosamente la verità e lavorare al suo pro¬
gresso mediante una ricerca sincera e disinteressata. la quale non si
proponga altro che servire al fine ultimo dell’umanità, all’avvento del
regno della ragione nel mondo. Il dotto, come ogni virtuoso, deve obliare
se stesso in questo fine : fare sfoggio di abilità nel difendere
errori sfuggiti o brillanti paradossi è soltanto egoismo e vanità
che la morale disapprova e un’ elementare prudenza sconsiglia ; perchè soltanto
il vero e il buono permane : il falso, per quanto sfolgori a tutta prima
, è destinato a perire. La formazione della conoscenza teorica è
solfante mezzo al fine supremo di promuovere la moralità, ed è un
mezzo inefficace quando non vi si aggiunga l’operare pra¬ tico, quando,
cioè, alla visione da parte dell’intelligenza non si aggiunga 1’ azione
da parte della volontà. Ora, è ufficio d’ur.a speciale classe di dotti,
dedicarsi in modo particolare all’ educazione della volontà del pubblico
non dotto, alla moralizzazione del popolo : sono essi i ministri
della Chiesa, i quali, appunto perchè si sono messi al ser¬ vizio della
comunità etico-religiosa, hanno il dovere di adempiere il loro ufficio in
nome della comunità stessa, attenendosi scrupolosamente a ciò ohe è
oggetto di fede generale, al simbolo. Debbono, si, essere uomini di
scienza e, ilei loro campo speciale, vedere al di là e meglio di
quanto vedano le anime affidate alla loro cura, ma nel- 1 educare queste
anime, nell’ inalzarle a vedute superiori , devono procedere in modo che
tutte a un tempo possano seguirli, altrimenti si romperebbe quell’accordo
spirituale che fa 1 essenza della Chiesa. Gli educatori del popolo
, in quanto tali , non devono svolgere o dimostrare cono¬ scenze
teoretiche e principi, e tanto meno polemizzarvi sopra, come si fa nella
repubblica dotta; non è loro mis¬ sione porre articoli di fede o creare
la fede — perchè articoli e fède esistono già come legame vivente della
co¬ munità etico-religiosa — ma ravvivare e rafforzare la fede che
il credente ha già nel progresso morale , ed elevare con essa lo spirito
di lui all’eterno, al divino. Soprattutto l’esempio che danno è
importante a tal fine ; la fede della comunità riposa in grandissima
parte sulla fede loro, e il più spesso non è che una fede nella loro
fede. Ora, se in essi la vita non risponde alla fede , la fiducia in questa
rimane profondamente scossa. Spetta al dotto formare 1’intelligenza, spetta
all’edu¬ catore morale formare la volontà dell’ uomo : sta tra i
due l’artista, il quale ha il privilegio di educare il senso este¬
tico , interposto come tratto d’unione tra la conoscenza teoretica e 1
attività pratica. L’ artista non agisce soltanto sull’ intelletto, come
fa 1’ uomo di scienza, nè soltanto sul cuore, come fa il moralista
popolare, ma sullo spirito umano tutto quanto : 1’ arte bella investo e
pervade tutta l’anima in quanto siuLesi di tutte le facoltà. La formula
pili espres¬ siva di ciò che 1’ arte fa è la seguente : l' arie rende
coninne il punto di vista trascendentale. Il filosofo si eleva ed eleva
con sé gli altri a questo punto di vista col la¬ voro del pensiero e
seguendo una regola ; l’artista vi si trova già senza rendersene conto :
nou ne conosce altri. Bai punto di vista trascendentale il mondo è
fatto : dal » punto di vista comune il mondo è dato ; dal punto
di vista estetico il mondo è dato, sì, ma non altrimenti che come
tatto. Il mondo reale, voglio dire la natura, presenta due aspetti : da
un lato è il prodotto delle determinazioni o limitazioni a noi poste,
dall’altro è il prodotto della nostra attività libera, ideale,
trascendentale. Sotto il primo rispetto la natura è essa stessa limitata
da ogni parte, sotto il secondo è da per tutto libera. La prima maniera
di vedere è volgare , la seconda è estetica. Per es., ogni forma nello
spazio può considerarsi come circoscritta dai corpi vicini, ma anche come
la manifestazione della forza espansiva, della pienezza interna del corpo
che ha questa forma. Chi vede i corpi nelle prima maniera uon vede
che forme contorte, compresse , mostruose : vede la bruttezza ; chi li vede
nella seconda maniera, vede in essi la vigoria, la vita, lo sforzo della
uatura: vede la bellezza. Vale altrettanto della legge morale: in quanto
comanda assolutamente essa comprime ogni tendenza della natura, e
veder la nostra uatura a questo modo è come vederla schiava ; ma la legge
morale fa tutt’ uno con l’Io , ne è anzi l’espressione più intima, onde,
obbedendo ad essa, obbediamo a noi stessi : veder la nostra natura a
que¬ st’altra mauiei’a è vederla esteticamente ^ ossia come bel¬
lezza. 1. artista vede tutto dal lato bello, vede in tutto energia , vita
, libertà ; il suo mondo è interiore, è nel1 umanità , e perciò 1’ arte
riconduce 1’ uomo al fondo di ne stesso, strappandolo al dominio della
natura, liberandolo dai vincoli della sensibilità e rendendogli
l’indipendenza, che e il supremo fine morale. Idi guisa che il senso este¬
tico non e.la virtù, ma prepara alla virtù, e la coltura estetica ha, un
rapporto positivo con l’avanzamento del fine morale. La moralità dell’
artista può raccogliersi in questi due precetti : u ) un itimelo per
tutti gli uomini : non ti fare artista a dispetto della natura, non
pretendere di essere artista quando la natura uon t’ispira ; b) un
co¬ mando per il vero artista: guardati dal favorire, o per
egoismo, o per desiderio di fama, il gusto corrotto del tuo tempo;
sforzati soltanto a riprodurre l’ideale che è in te; ispiiati alla
santità della tua missione, e sarai, a un tempo, uomo migliore e migliore
artista (*). L opera del dotto dell’educatore e dell’artista, in
servigio del fine supremo morale, presuppone sempre quella libera
reciprocità d’azione tra gli uomini, che è condizione prima di ogni
comunità e a garantir la quale — finché il regno della ragione non sia
una realtà — è necessario lo Stato. Quali sono ora i doveri degli
impiegati, ossia degli ufficiali dello Stato ? L’ impiegato subalterno è
rigorosa¬ mente legato alla lettera della legge, la quale, perciò ,
dev’ essere chiara e uon dar luogo a dubbi d’interpretazione. Quanto all
impiegato superiore, al legislatore, al giudice inappellabile, i quali
non sono che i gerenti della volontà comune affermatasi, espressamente o
tacitamente, nel contratto sociale, debbono aneli’ essi conformarsi alla
costituzione politica attuale , nata dalla volontà comune , con la
riserva, però, di perfezionarla secondo le idee della ragione, tenendo gli
occhi tìnsi alla costituzione ideale. Chi regge lo Stato deve avere una
chiara veduta circa il fine della costituzione — il quale non può essere
che il progresso umano — deve , perciò , elevarsi mediante concetti sopra
1’ esperienza comune, dev’essere un do'tto nella sua materia, deve, come
dice Platone, partecipare alle Idee, e lavorare all’attuazione
dell’ideale, favorendo la coltura delle classi superiori. Da queste
classi il progresso si dif¬ fonderà poi nella comunità tutta quanta e
trarrà seco, col suffragio universale, la riforma della costituzione. Il
reg¬ gitore di uno Stato, quindi, è sempre responsabile dinanzi al
suo popolo del modo ond’egli lo governa, e se può con¬ siderarsi come
legittima ogni costituzione che non renda impossibile il progresso in
generale e quello dei singoli individui, sarebbe assolutamente
illegittimo e immorale un governo che si proponesse di conservare tutto
com’ è at¬ tualmente. Quali i doveri di vocazione delle classi inferiori
? — La nostra vita e il nostro operare sono condizionati dalla
materia, la quale va trattata conformemente al fine supremo che è il
dominio della ragione sulla natura. Quanto piu questo dominio si estende,
tanto più l’umanità progre¬ disce ; è necessario, dunque, elaborare la
rozza natura e renderla adatta ai fini spirituali ; è qui, appunto, 1’
ufficio delle classi sociali inferiori, il cui lavoro, riferendosi come
ogni altro alla moralità di tutti, ha il medesimo valore etico del lavoro
delle classi superiori, alla pve/sibilità del quale è condizione
indispensabile. E poiché dal perfeziona¬ mento meccanico e tecnico del
lavoro materiale è facilitata] la conquista della natura, ed è quindi
promosso il progresso dell’ umanità, è nu dovere per le classi inferiori
migliorare e inalzare il loro mestiere. TI che riohiede 1’
adempimento d un altro dovere concernente i rapporti tra la classe
in¬ feriore e la superiore. J1 perfezionamento industriale di¬
pende da conoscenze , scoperte , invenzioni, che rientrano nell ufficio
professionale dei dotti ; è dovere, dunque, della classe inferiore,
onorare la classe piò colta appunto perchè, tale e attenersi ai consigli
e alle proposte che da essa le provengono per quanto riguarda il
miglioramento di questo o quel ramo d’industria, di questo o quel genere
di vite, domestica, di questo o quel sistema di educazione, ecc.
Dal canto suo, poi, la classe superiore, ben lungi dal disprez¬ zai
e, deve tenere nella piu alta stima la classe inferiore, rispettarne la
libertà, riconoscere il valore dell’ opera sua in riguardo agli interessi
superiori dell’ umanità. Soltanto in una giusta reciprocanza di rapporti
tra le varie classi sociali sta la base del perfezionamento umano, inteso
come fine supremo di ogni dottrina morale. Riassumendo, la Dottrina Morule, nelle tre
parti in cui si divide, si propone un triplice oggetto e ottiene un
triplice risultato. Anzitutto nella deduzione del principio della
mo¬ ralità il Fichte mostra come la Ragione e la Libertà, le quali
a tutta prima per la coscienza empirica non sono che ideali, divengano
poi in essa principi di azione, esercitino una causalità. L’io empirico
individuale non può porsi nè pensarsi se non in base all’ Io puro
universale , se non in quanto ha per principio e per fine l’Ideale ; e
l’Io puro universale non può attuarsi se non ha per strumento l’io
empirico individuale. L’ unità dell’ ideale non acquista cau¬ salità, non
diviene efficace nel mondo se non pluralizzandosi, quasi in centri luminosi, in
spiriti individuali, i quali soltauto possono dirsi realmente esistenti e
attivi. Ora, appunto questo reciproco rapporto tra i molteplici io empi¬
rici e 1’unico Io puro fornisce il contenuto del dovere e rende il dovere
intelligibile. Il dovere, infatti, è la neces¬ sita imposta all’ Io puro,
ossia alla Libertà, di attraversare 1’ intelligenza , ossia l’io empirico
, di divenire quindi intelligibile, per passare dallo stato ideale di potenza a
quello leale di atto, necessità che non significa eteronomia perchè
non impone alla Libertà se non la propria attuazione. L’intelligibilità del
dovere : ecco il primo risultato che Fichte ottiene, colmando l’abisso che
Kant aveva lasciato aperto tra la conoscenza e la volontà, e facendo
dell’ intelligenza la condizione interna, il veicolo della libertà;
poiché l’intelligenza esprime quasi lo sforzo della libertà infinita per
assumere, con la coscienza di sè, la forma del reale. In secondo luogo, a
proposito dell’applicabilità del principio morale, Fichte mostra come il
mondo si presti all attuazione della ragione e della libertà ; il che
significa che la natura non è radicalmeute cattiva, non è assoluta-
mente refrattaria allo spirito ; c’ è anzi una stretta parentela tra lo spirito
e la natura, non essendo questa che un prodotto inconscio di quello.
Soltanto che l’attuazione del1’ideale morale non si compie a un tratto nel
mondo con un semplice decreto della volontà, ma è la meta di un
progresso. L’idea di sviluppo, di progresso è una categoria della moralità
; ecco il secondo risultato che Fichte ot¬ tiene eliminando l’assoluta
irriducibilità riaffermata dal Kant tra libertà e natura . spirito e
materia, idealità e realtà, e facendo la natura, la materia, la realtà
suscettive di un progressivo liberarsi, spiritualizzarsi, idealizzarsi
al- l’infinito. Infine, nel fare 1’ applicazione del principio morale,
Fichte mostra come il progresso richieda, per com¬ piersi, una duplice
condizione ; l’uua formale : occorre che 1’ individuo acquisti in sè la
coscienza della libertà e della legge morale; 1’ altra materiale :
occorre che 1’ individuo apprenda come il contenuto del dovere sia nell’
attuare la moralità non solo in lui, ma anche fuori di lui, negli
altri individui, nel genere umauo tutto quanto , la cui totalità
appunto rappresenta la ragione universale ; occorre, insomma , che 1’ individuo
sappia di essere strumento indispen¬ sabile per 1’ attuarsi dell’ ideale
nel mondo , per 1’ emancipazione cioè dell’ umanità intera dai vincoli della
natura e per la sua elevazione al regno dello spirito. La sostituzione d’
un ideale sociale a un ideale individuale : ecco il terzo risultato che
il Fichte ottiene trasformando la formula kantiana : “ Ogni uomo è esso stesso
fine „ in que¬ st’ altra : “ ogni uomo è esso stesso fine in quanto
mezzo ad attuale la ragione universale „ e subordinando così il
singolo al tutto, 1’ individuo all’ umanità. È facile argomentare,
in base a questo triplice risul¬ tato, le radicali innovazioni di cui,
rispetto alla morale tradizionale, è feconda la dottrina fichtiana.
L’intelligibilità del dovere porta seco la razionalità dell’azione
e sostituisce alla fede, opera della grazia divina o di uu impulso
incosciente, la convinzione della propria coscienza, l’unione
indissolubile dell’energia della volontà con la luce del pensiero. Per
ben operare, all’ intellettua¬ lismo socratico basta il retto giudizio,
al volontarismo cristiano basta il cuore puro: Fichte fonde i due 'punti
di vista ed esige per la moralità degli atti così la dirittura del
giudizio come la purezza del cuore, così l’intima per¬ suasione come la
buona volontà. Un dovere irrazionale, impenetrabile a ogni sforzo della
riflessione è, secondo lui, altrettanto immorale quanto un dovere
adempiuto per secondi fini. Inintelligibilità e insincerità sono per Fichte
ugualmente incompatibili col concetto del dovere. L’ idea di
sviluppo e di progresso, intesa come cate¬ goria della moralità, porta
seco la riabilitazione della na¬ tura rispetto allo spirito, alla cui
attuazione, anziché osta¬ colo, è condizione e mezzo. Senza la natura —
vedemmo — mancherebbe allo spirito l’oggetto su cui esercitare la
pi-o- pria attività, la quale ha bisogno d’agire sulla natura per
liberarsi dalla natura; senza i corpi individuali, che della natura fanno
parte, mancherebbe alla libertà dello spirito il modo di pluralizzarsi in
tante sfere d’ azione, le quali, sebbene distinte, sono in recipi'oco
rapporto fra loro, sì da applicarsi tutte al medesimo universo e da
rappresentare, unite insieme, e attuare la vivente unità del cosmo e
della ragione universale. Ogni organismo corporeo, infatti, è stru¬
mento indispensabile affinchè la libera attività spirituale abbia
causalità nel mondo ; e da ciò deriva a esso e , per estensione, a tutta
quanta la natura, una consacrazione morale, che non si accorda con la condanna
della natura e del corpo pronunziata dall’ ascetismo cristiano , ma
nem¬ meno con l’apoteosi della natura e del corpo celebrata dal¬
l’edonismo pagauo ; una consacrazione morale che vieta a un tempo così la
macerazione, come il blandimento della carne, e che mentre, restituisce
alla vita dei sensi il suo ufficio subordinato e la sua vera finalità
nella vita morale — si ricordi la prescrizione fichtiana già citata
: u Mangiate e bevete a gloria di Dio ; se questa morale vi sembra troppo
austera, tanto peggio per voi ; non ce n’ è un’ altra „ — non ritiene
necessario nè una risurrezione dei corpi, nè un’ immortalità personale.
Perché Fichte non si contenta più di una moralità che miri a una vita
futura, o che si appaghi di un sogno di perfezione interiore, ma
vuole attuare sulla terra stessa il regno dei cieli, ripo¬ nendo la
beatitudine, come già il Lessing aveva detto della verità, non nel
possesso, ma nella conquista della libertà : “ essere liberi è nulla,
divenire liberi è il cielo ! La sostituzione dell’ ideale sociale all’ ideale
indivi¬ duale porta seco l’inversione del rapporto di dipendenza
tra morale e diritto , 1’ accentuazione massima del valore del regime di
giustizia e la radicale trasformazione del concetto tradizionale di
carità. È, infatti, un’ originale ca¬ ratteristica della dottrina
fichtiana l’aver posto non più — come si soleva in passato — la
morale a condizione del diritto, ma il diritto a condizione della morale.
Per Fichte la libertà, materia del dovere, non si concepisce senza
la società, ma la società non si concepisce senza rapporti di
giustizia, dunque la giustizia, ossia il diritto (juslitiu da jus =
diritto) è il fondamento della morale ; affinchè la moralità possa
attuarsi, occorre prima assicurare a tutti 1’ eguaglianza nel possesso
della libertà esteriore, e procu¬ rare a tutti indistintamente, con una
legislazione regolatrice dell’attività economica, quella parte di agiatezza materiale
che è necessaria all’opera di emancipazione morale o di elevazione verso
la vita dello spirito. Questa emancipazione ed elevazione spirituale, poi, non
deve uè può fi¬ nire nel singolo individuo, che nella dottrina fiohtiana
nou ha per sè nessun valore assoluto, ma dev’ essere promossa da
ciascun uomo in tutti gli altri uomini, perchè l’ideale etico, ben lungi
dal ridurci a una salvezza individuale, a una perfezione interiore, a una
santità eremitica incurante della sorte delle altre anime, o una santità
operosa sol¬ tanto per conquistarsi un posto nel cielo , consiste
invece nella moralizzazione e nella salvezza di tutto il genere
umano, nell’avvento del regno della ragione su questa terra e in tutta 1’
umanità. Di qui deriva , secondo Fichte, il vero concetto della carità :
sforzarsi d’inalzare i nostri si¬ mili alla moralità. Ciascuno deve
proporsi non la propria felicità, e nemmeno soltanto la propria libertà e
indipen¬ denza particolare, ma la libertà universale, la salute spirituale
di tutti; il culmine della virtù per l’individuo è darsi in olocausto per
la salvezza del mondo, accettando coraggiosamente l’imperativo ingrato,
se si vuole, ma categorico, di lavorare senza riposo e senza ricompensa,
a un fine di cui non vedrà mai l’adempimento completo, al trionfo
infinitamente lontano della ragione , e di lavorarvi in un ambiente
spesso indifferente ed ostile, con penosi sa¬ crifizi , senz’ altro
stimolo che il puro amore del dovere , senz’ altra gioia che quella di
avere colla propria abnega¬ zione contribuito all’ordine universale !
Concezione sublime questa, che ricorda l’altra affine dello Zend Avesta,
la quale fa dipendere aneli’ essa la salvezza di ciascuno dalla
salvezza di tutti e comanda a ognuno di combattere, se¬ condo i propri
mezzi e secondo il posto assegnatogli, il regno delle tenebre e del male
e di lavorare al trionfo della luce e del bene. E nonostante questa
abnegazione di sè nell’ interesse della ragione universale, l’io
individuale conserva tutta la propria realtà e personalità, nè
potrebbe avere una dignità ma'ggiore , poiché quale dignità può ritenersi
più grande di quella di un essere dalla cui azione dipende la salvezza di
tutti e alla salvezza del quale concorre 1’ universalità degli esseri
ragionevoli [Tale concezione trovasi eloquentemente illustrata da Ficlite
anche nella terza delle conferenze da lui tenute a Jena sulla Missione
ilei dotto ; ne riportiamo qui, liberamente tradotta, la bella chiusa che
è quasi una lirica: “ Se l’idea liuora svolta si con¬ sidera auche
prescindendo da ogni rapporto con noi stessi, siamo por¬ tati a vedere fuori
di uoi una collettività in cui nessuno può lavo¬ rare per sè senza
lavorare per gli altri, nè lavorare per gli altri senza lavorare in pari
tempo per sè , essendo il progresso dell’ uno progresso di tutti, la
perdita dell’ uno perdita di tutti : spettacolo questo che ci sodisfa
intimamente e solleva alto il nostro spirito con la visione dell’armonia
nella varietà. L’interesse aumenta se, riportando lo sguardo sopra noi stessi,
ci riconosciamo membri di questa grande e stretta comunione. Sentiamo
rafforzarsi la coscienza della nostra dignità e della nostra forza,
quando diciamo a noi stessi ciò che ognuno può dire : la mia esistenza
non è inutile e senza scopo ; io sono un anello necessario dell’ infinita
catena che, dal momento in cui 1’ uomo assurse per la prima volta alla
piena consapevolezza del proprio essere, si svolge verso l’eternità;
quanti, tra gli uomini, furono grandi, buoni e saggi, i benefattori dell'
umanità i cui nomi leggo registrati nella storia del inondo, e i tanti i
cui meriti riman¬ gono, mentre i nomi sono dimenticati, tutti hanno
lavorato per me; io raccolgo i frutti delle loro fatiche; ricalco sulla
via che essi percorsero le loro orme benefiche. Io posso, tosto che lo voglia,
riprendere 1’ ufficio altissimo che essi si erano proposto ; rendere ,
cioè, sempre più saggi e più felici i nostri fratelli ; posso continuare
a costruire là dove essi dovettero smettere; posso portare più
vicino al compimento il tempio magnifico che essi dovettero lasciare
incom¬ piuto. — u Ma anch’ io dovrò smettere il [mio lavoro come essi „
, dirà qualcuno — Oh ! questo è il pensiero più elevato di tutti.
Se assumo quell’ ufficio altissimo, non lo potrò mai portare a termine
; quanto è certo che è mio dovere l’accettarlo, altrettanto è certo
che Amiamo sperare che la precedente esposizione della Dol/t'ina
morale del Fichte non riesca inutile per chi si accinga a leggere il
volume, se non nella lingua, nello stile del suo autore. Certo non tutti
accetteranno integral¬ mente l’ardita metafisica ivi presupposta — che
volentieri chiameremmo Etilica come quella dello Spinoza e che è
forse, per adoperare una felice espressione del Barzelletti, la più eroica
presa di possesso che mai mente umana abbia potuto fare, a un tempo, e
del mondo delle idee e del mondo della realtà — ma tutti*, senza
dubbio, saranno colpiti dalla originalità, profondità e finezza
delle vedute psicologiche ivi proiettate e analizzate con arte
insuperabile, e in particolar modo dalla nobiltà dei senti- non
potrò mai cessare d’operare; quindi non potrò mai cessare d’es¬ sere. Ciò
che si suoi chiamare morte non può interrompere 1’ opera mia; perchè
l’opera mia dev’essere compiuta, e non può essere com¬ piuta nel tempo ;
perciò la mia esistenza non è limitata nel tempo ed io sono eterno.
Assumendo parte di quell’ufficio sommo, ho fatto mia l’eternità. Sollevo
fieramente il capo verso le rocce minaccioso, verso le cascate
spumeggianti, verso le nuvole velegginoti in un oceano di fuoco , e dico
: io sono eterno e sfido il vostro potere. Ir¬ rompete tutti su di me, e
tu, cielo, e tu, terra, precipitate in un sel¬ vaggio tumulto, e voi
tutti, o elementi, spumeggiate e rumoreggiato e stritolate nella lotta
selvaggia pur 1’ ultimo atomo del corpo che io dico mio ; la mia volontà
sola, col suo fermo proposito, aleggerà ardita e fredda sopra le rovine
dell’ universo , perchè io ho assunto la mia missione, e questa è più
duratura di voi : è eterna, e, al pari di essa, sono eterno io „.
(Einige Vorlesungen ilber din Bcstimmung dea Gelehrten, Summit.
Werke) — V. la traduz. frane, di M. Nicolas , De la destinatimi da savant et de
l'liomine de lettres par J. G. Fichte, Paris, De Ladrauge; e la trad.
ital. di E. Roncali, con prefaz. di Vitali, G. A. Fichte, La missione del
dotto, Lanciano, Carabba; La Storia della Eiloso/ia (estratto dalla Nuova
Antologia) p. 2. menti ivi espressi con forza sempre, e spesso con
vivezza di colorito. Del resto non c’è una sola opera del nostro
filosofo che non elevi e non fortifichi l’anima del lettore perchè i suoi
seritti, .emanazione diretta delle più intime e salde convinzioni, e la
sua vii* di pensiero, rientrano nel ciclo di quella vita d’azione che fa
del Fichte una personalità tipica, un represen latice man, direbbe l’Emerson.
E invero egli appartiene — come già affermammo — all’eletta schiera di quegli
eroi, la cui apparizione nella storia diventa un possesso eterno per
l’umanità, e la memoria dei quali durerà quanto il mondo lontana.
Il carattere adamantino della sua figura morale, la quale è un’ unità
altrettanto solida quanto ben fusa, grazie alla più perfetta armonia tra
idee pai-ole e opere, risulta scultoreamente espresso in questa solenne
dichiarazione, da lui fatta all’ inizio della sua carriera universitaria
: u Io sono un sacerdote della verità ; la mia esistenza è votela
al suo servizio; sono impegnato a tutto fare, tutto osare, tutto soffrire
per essa. Se per causa sua fossi perseguitato e odiato, se dovessi anche
morire, che farei di straordinario? nulla più che il mio assoluto dovere. Parole,
queste, che spiegano bene il poderoso influsso, spiritual- mente
rigeneratore, esercitato dal Fichte sui suoi conna- ziouali e
contemporanei, influsso che, propagandosi nello spazio e nel tempo, ha
suscitato e susciterà sempre sublimi emozioni e risoluzioni virili in mille e
mille anime, Cfr. prec. Einiye Vorlesungen iiber die Bestini muny (Ics
Gelehrten 1794 (Sdmmtl. Werke). che pur non udirono mai la voce di
lui. Costante missione di questo eminente spirito fu : destare negli
uomini il senso della divinità della propria natura, fissare i loro
pensieri sopra una vita spirituale come l’unica e vera, insegnar loro a
guardare a qualcos’ altro che la pura apparenza e irrealtà e guidarli così allo
sforzo tenace verso i più alti ideali di purezza, abnegazione, giustizia,
SOLIDARIETÀ e libertà. Questa infinita risonanza di idee, sentimenti e
propositi, attraverso le generazioni, nel tempo e nello spazio, questa
immensa simpatia e solidarietà umana — che eccelle tra i principi
fondamen¬ tali della dottrina liclitiana — era profondamente sentita dal
Fichte stesso, come può rilevarsi anche dalla seguente bella pagina con
cui si chiude la seconda conferenza sulla Missione del Dotto. Ognuno può
dire : chiunque tu sia, tu che hai sembianze umane, sei un membro di
questa grande comunità; sia pure infinito il numero di quelli che stauuo tra me
e te, io so, nondimeno, che il mio influsso giungerà sino a te , e il tuo
sino a me ; chiunque porti sul viso, per quanto rozzamente espressa,
l’impronta della ragione, non esiste invano per me. Ma io non ti conosco,
nè tu conosci me. Oh! quanto è corto che ambedue siamo chiamati a esser
buoni e a divenire sempre migliori, tanto è certo che verrà il giorno, e sia
pure tra milioni e bilioni d’ anni (che è mai il tempo ?), verrà il
giorno, dico, in cui trascinerò anche te nella mia sfera d’azione, in cui
potrò beneficarti e ricevere benefizi da te, in cui anche il tuo cuore
sarà avvinto al mio coi viucoli, i più belli, di un libero scambio di
reciproche azioni (Siimmtl. Werke. Cleto Carbonara. Keywords: l’esperienza e la
prattica, esperienza, dull title: “l’empirismo come filosofia dell’esperienza”!
– i periti conversazionale – esperienza dell’altro, persona e persone –
solipsism, anti-solipsismo – esperienza, sperimento, esperire, perito, perizia,
per, fare, fahren, --. altri, altro, l’altro, l’altri, la filosofia pratica,
etica e diritto, la filosofia pratica di Giovanni Amedeo Fichte, il pratico e
l’aletico. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Grice e Carbonara” – The Swimming-Pool
Library.
Grice e Carbone: l’implicatrua
conversazionale -- filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza (Mantova). Filosofo
italiano. Grice: “I love Carbone; my favourite of his tracts are on the
‘unexpressible’ – a contradictio in terminis – and on ‘the flesh and the voice’
– but the favourite-favourite are his tract on ‘il bello’ (‘eidos ed eidolon’)
and even more, his “La dialettica”. Si
laurea a Bologna con “Marxismo: i soggetti nella storia". Studia a Padova.
Insegna a Milano. Opere: Condannàti alla libertà, adattamento teatrale del
romanzo di Sartre L'età della ragione, che è stato messo in scena in quello stesso
anno. Fonda a Pisa con il sostegno del Leverhulme Trust un
Programma di ricerca sulla filosofia, concentrandolo
su alcune delle sue figure più importanti e sulle parole-chiave: l'essere, la
vita, il concetto». Dirige la collana f«L'occhio e lo spirito. Estetica,
fenomenologia, per Mimesis Edizioni. Si
concentra sulla fenomenologia di Merleau-Ponty, indagandone il duplice ma
unitario significato estetico di riflessione filosofica sull'esperienza percettiva
e sull'esperienza artistica attraverso l'esame del parallelo interesse
manifestato da Merleau-Ponty per Cézanne e Proust. Tale indirizzo di studi si è
allargato dapprima a una più vasta considerazione della fenomenologia e poi a
quella del pensiero post-strutturalistico sviluppatosi in Francia, pur
mantenendosi imperniato sul parallelo interesse per la riflessione filosofica
sulla pittura e sulla letteratura moderne. Questo ampliamento ha inoltre
condotto gli studi ad affrontare tematiche di carattere gnoseologico e
ontologico, spingendolo anche a problematizzare il tradizionale rapporto tra la
filosofia e la "non filosofia". Tli orientamenti hanno trovato sbocco
in una riflessione sul peculiare statuto delle immagini nella nostra epoca,
sulle possibili implicazioni etico-politiche del rapporto con esse e sulla
dimensione ontologica dell'"essere in comune" (morire insieme,
dividualita, dividuo). che in tali implicazioni troverebbe espressione. Cura Merleau-Ponty
(Il visibile e l'invisibile; Linguaggio Storia Natura, La Natura, È possibile
oggi la filosofia? Saggi eretici sulla filosofia della storia) e Cassirer -- Eidos
ed eidolon, il bello. Influenzato prevalentemente
da Merleau-Ponty, di cui ha sviluppato in maniera teoreticamente personale
alcune nozioni. Tra queste, spicca il concetto di "idea sensibile",
intesa quale essenza che s'inaugura nel nostro incontro col sensibile e da
questo rimane inseparabile, sedimentandosi in una temporalità retroflessa --"tempo
mitico". Alla prima di queste nozioni è dedicato il dittico “Ai confini
dell'esprimibile” e “Una deformazione senza precedente: la idea sensibile Porta
a sintesi le implicazioni filosofiche delle nozioni sopra citate nel concetto
di "de-formazione senza precedenti", con cui egli intende
caratterizzare il peculiare statuto che a suo avviso la de-formazione assume
nell'arte, al fine di staccarsi dal principio imitativo della rappresentazione
e dunque dalla concezione del modello inteso quale “forma” preliminarmente
data. Alle nozioni sopra menzionate si è andata successivamente collegando
quella di "precessione reciproca" tra l’immaginario e il reale che
Carbone ha proposto di dar conto del prodursi della peculiare temporalità
retroflessa detta "tempo mitico". Cerca di sviluppare le implicazioni
etico-politiche della concezione della memoria legata all'idea di
"deformazione senza precedenti" nella sua riflessione sue venti di
cui ha sottolineato l'irriducibile carattere visivo indagandolo pertanto
mediante un approccio anzitutto estetico. Cerca le radici ontologiche di tali
implicazioni etico-politiche della filosofia, proponendo le nozioni di
"a-individuale" e di "dividuo" per sottolineare
l'intrinseco carattere re-lazionale (e dunque il divenire e la divisibilità) di
ogni identità. Altre saggi: “Ai confini
dell'esprimibile. Merleau-Ponty a partire da Cézanne e da Proust, Milano,
Guerini); Il sensibile e l'eccedente. Mondo estetico, arte, pensiero, Milano,
Guerini e Associati); Di alcuni motivi in Marcel Proust, Milano, Libreria
Cortina); La carne e la voce. In dialogo tra estetica ed etica, Milano, Mimesis);
Essere morti insieme (Torino, Bollati Boringhieri). Sullo schermo
dell'estetica. La pittura, il cinema e la filosofia da fare, Milano, Mimesis). Una
deformazione senza precedenti. la idea sensibile, Macerata, Quodlibet). Mereologia Lingua Segui Modifica Ulteriori informazioni
Questa voce sull'argomento concetti e principi filosofici è solo un abbozzo.
Contribuisci a migliorarla secondo le convenzioni di Wikipedia. In filosofia la
mereologia (composizione del grecoμέρος, méros, "parte" e -λογία,
-logìa, "discorso", "studio", "teoria"[1]) è uno
dei "cosiddetti" «sistemi di Leśniewski», ossia è la teoria, o
scienza, delle relazioni parti-tutto[3]; presentata da Achille Varzicome teoria
«delle relazioni della parte al tutto e da parte a parte con un tutto»[4] (o
«teoria delle parti e dell'intero»), da Hilary Putnam come «"il calcolo
delle parti e degli interi"» e da Claudio Calosi come la «teoria formale
delle parti e delle relazioni di parte». Per Ferraris tale relazione
parte-interopuò essere tra oggetti concreti, regioni spazio-temporali, processi
(parti temporali), eventi e oggetti astratti.[8] Storia Modifica Lo
studio delle parti affonda le sue radici nelle speculazioni filosofiche dei presocratici,
per poi essere portato avanti da Platone, Aristotele e Boezio. Di grande
importanza nello sviluppo della mereologia furono anche i contributi di
numerosi filosofi medievali, tra i quali AQUINO, Pietro Abelardo ed Occam. Nel
periodo illuminista, anche Kant e Leibniz si interessarono a quest'ambito.
Tuttavia, la diffusione della mereologia in età contemporanea si dovette a
Franz Brentano e ai suoi studenti, in particolare Husserl, assieme al primo
vero tentativo di avviarne un'analisi attraverso strumenti formali. Leśniewski creò il termine mereologia per
denominare la teoria (che gli si presentò tramite un ragionamento di Husserl)
delle relazioni tra le parti e il tutto a partire dalla differenziazione — il
cui principale fine era "evitare" l'antinomia di Russell— tra
interpretazione distributiva (un oggetto come elemento di una classe) e
interpretazione collettiva (un oggetto come parte di un intero) dei simboli di
classe. Leśniewski, parzialmente influenzato da Whitehead, elaborò poi la
teoria in un sistema assiomatico deduttivo entro cui poter esprimere il calcolo
proposizionale e il calcolo delle classi. I sistemi di Leśniewski. Anche
se cronologicamente è il primo dei sistemi di Leśniewski la mereologia contiene
gli altri due: la prototetica (scienza delle tesi più originarie,
fondamentali ..le «prototesi») che è una logica proposizionale con
l'equivalenza come unico termine primitivo, la proposizione come
categoriafondamentale (ammettente la quantificazione per le proposizioni e i
funtori di qualunque categoria), un solo assioma, e delle regole di
separazione, sostituzione, definizione, separazione dei quantificatori e di
estensionalità. l'ontologia così denominata per la presenza del funtore
indicato con ε «preso nel suo senso esistenziale» (non indica l'appartenenza
insiemistica), essa è derivante dalla prototetica ed è anche denominata
«calcolo dei nomi» poiché gli è aggiunta la categoria dei nomi. Con la
mereologia si presenta una differente definizione d'insieme. Esso non è
definito distributivamente ma collettivamente(mereologicamente): l'insieme è
una concreta totalità di elementi, un aggregato e dunque un oggetto fisico composto
di parti, che è solo se, e finché, esse sono (v. dipendenza ontologica]). Da
ciò risultano varie differenze dalla "normale" teoria degli insiemi
tra le quali che in mereologia è "insensato" ammettere l'esistenza di
un insieme vuoto; indi insiemi di un solo elemento sono tale elemento e la
proprietà, unico termine primitivo della mereologia, di «essere un elemento» è
transitiva e antisimmetrica e riflessiva. Assiomi e definizioni Modifica Il
fondamento concettuale alla base della mereologia è la nozione di parte. In
generale, nelle lingue naturali con «parte» si intende una porzione costitutiva
di un oggetto, gruppo o situazione. Si può dire, ad esempio, che «la maniglia è
parte della porta», che «il Gin è parte del Martini», che «il cucchiaio è parte
dell'argenteria» o che «il calciatore è parte della squadra». Tuttavia,
nell'ambito della mereologia si cerca di seguire un impianto nominalista
definendo questa nozione in termini puramente logici, prendendo in esame le
relazioni tra gli oggetti senza entrare nel merito di eventuali considerazioni
ontologicheriguardo questi ultimi. Di conseguenza, la relazione di parte si può
applicare anche a concetti più astratti, come ad esempio nelle frasi «la
razionalità è parte dell'essere umano» o «la lettera 'c' è parte della parola
'cane'». Assiomi fondamentali Modifica La nozione mereologica di parte
può essere formalizzata mediante il linguaggio della logica del primo ordine
come un predicato, solitamente indicato con P. Un'espressione del tipo
{\displaystyle Pxy} dunque si legge «x è parte di y». Per convenzione, questo
predicato è concepito come una relazione binaria che gode di tre proprietà
fondamentali: il principio della riflessivitàdella nozione di parte (Rp), il
principio dell'antisimmetria della nozione di parte (aSp) e il principio di
transitività della nozione di parte (Tp). (Rp) ogni cosa è parte di se
stessa {\displaystyle (\forall x)(Pxx)}, (aSp) per ogni x e y distinti, se x è
parte di y, allora ynon è parte di x {\displaystyle (\forall x)(\forall
y)(Pxy\land x\neq y\rightarrow \neg Pyx)}, (Tp) per ogni x, y e z, se x è parte
di y e y è parte di z, allora x è parte di z {\displaystyle (\forall x)(\forall
y)(\forall z)(Pxy\land Pyz\rightarrow Pxz)}.[9][4] In altri termini, la
relazione di parte è un ordine parzialelargo. Nonostante bastino solo questi
assiomi per porre le fondamenta della mereologia standard (o sistema M), si
possono definire ulteriori concetti a partire dal predicato P. Di seguito sono
riportati quelli più frequenti: Uguaglianza {\displaystyle EQxy:=Pxy\land
Pyx} (x e y sono uguali se sono uno parte dell'altro), Parte propria
{\displaystyle PPxy:=Pxy\land \neg (x=y)} (x è una parte propria di y se è
parte di y ma è distinto da esso), Sovrapposizione {\displaystyle Oxy:=(\exists
z)(Pzx\land Pzy)} (x è sovrapposto a yse c'è una parte di x che è anche parte
di y), Disgiunzione {\displaystyle Dxy:=\neg Oxy} (x è disgiunto da y se non ha
sovrapposizioni con esso). In particolare, la nozione di parte propria descrive
un ordine parziale stretto (irriflessivo, asimmetrico e transitivo) a
differenza del suo corrispondente primitivo, mentre la sovrapposizione è
riflessiva, simmetrica ma non necessariamente transitiva. È anche possibile
ridefinire il concetto di parte in termini di parte propria: {\displaystyle
Pxy:=PPxy\lor x=y}, ovvero x è parte di y quando è parte propria di y oppure
quando è identico a y. Decomposizione e composizione Modifica Per
disporre di una teoria mereologica che sia realmente in grado di rendere conto
dell'uso del termine «parte» in maniera adeguata, occorre imporre ulteriori
restrizioni sull'ordine parziale P. Nello specifico, vi sono due tipologie di
principi aggiuntivi: quelli di decomposizione (che ragionano dall'intero alle
parti) e quelli di composizione (che ragionano dalle parti all'intero).
Tra gli assiomi di decomposizione, il principio di supplementazione debole (o
WSpp) afferma che nessun intero può avere una singola parte propria. Ciò
risponde all'intuizione comune secondo la quale se un intero possiede una parte
propria, allora deve averne almeno anche un'altra, che costituisce il
rimanente. In simboli si ha che: (WSpp) {\displaystyle PPxy\rightarrow
(\exists z)(Pzy\land \neg Ozx)}, ovvero se x è una parte propria di y, allora
esiste (almeno) un zche è parte di y ma non è sovrapposto ad x. Similmente, il
principio di supplementazione forte (o SSp) prevede che un se y non è parte di
x, allora y ha una parte che non è sovrapposta a x. In simboli: (SSpp)
{\displaystyle \neg Pyx\rightarrow (\exists z)(Pzy\land \neg Ozx)}. Una
conseguenza logica del principio di supplementazione forte è l'estensionalità
(Exp). Questa importante proprietà afferma che due oggetti non possono essere
differenti se hanno le stesse parti proprie, o, in maniera equivalente, se due
oggetti hanno le stesse parti proprie, allora sono lo stesso oggetto. In
simboli: (Exp) {\displaystyle x=y\rightarrow (\forall
z)(PPzx\leftrightarrow PPzy)}. Un sistema mereologico che accetta, oltre agli
assiomi fondametali di M, anche i principi di supplementazione debole,
supplementazione forte ed estensionalità è detto mereologia estensionale (o
EM). Considerazioni ulteriori, che però non fanno riferimento al
significato della nozione di parte, possono includere l'idea che esista un
oggetto privo di parti proprie, ovvero l'atomismo, oppure l'idea che, al
contrario, ogni cosa ha parti proprie, o simili, come la proprietà della
densità, che nega l'esistenza di parti proprie immediate. Atomismo
{\displaystyle (\forall x)(\exists y)(Pyx\land \neg (\exists z)(PPzy))}
Infinitismo{\displaystyle (\forall x)(\exists y)(PPyx)} Densità {\displaystyle
(\forall x)(\forall y)(PPxy\rightarrow (\exists z)(PPxz\land PPzy))} Tra
gli assiomi di composizione, il principio di somma mereologica o fusione
formalizza l'idea esistano degli interi composti esclusivamente ed esattamente
da un certo numero di parti. Ad esempio, la Spagna e il Portogallo compongono
la Penisola Iberica (o, in maniera equivalente, la Penisola Iberica è la somma
mereologica di Spagna e Portogallo). Di contro, la mano destra e la mano
sinistra non compongono il corpo umano, poiché quest'ultimo possiede anche
altre parti (gli occhi, il naso, i piedi, ecc.). Nei casi che, come in
quest'esempio, prevedono solo due parti la somma mereologica può essere
definita come segue: {\displaystyle Szxy:=Pxz\land Pyz\land (\forall
w)(Pwz\rightarrow (Owx\lor Owy))}(ovvero z è la somma mereologica di x e y se x
e ysono parte di z e ogni parte di z è sovrapposta a x o y) Si tratta di un
principio controverso, soprattutto se le parti che compongono la somma sono
potenzialmente infinite e non soltanto due. È infatti possibile generalizzare
tale definizione per indicare una somma di infinite parti: {\displaystyle
Sz\varphi x:=(\forall x)(\varphi x\rightarrow Pxz)\land (\forall w)(Pwz\rightarrow
(\exists x)(\varphi x\land Owx))}, dove φ indica una generica proprietà. Vi
sono almeno tre possibili posizioni che si possono assumere nei confronti
dell'esistenza somma mereologica: Nichilismo mereologico Non esistono
somme mereologiche, e anche gli oggetti che a prima vista sembrano composti
sono in realtà semplici. In altri termini, utilizzando un'immagine già evocata
da Peter van Inwagen, non esiste il tavolo, ma esistono solo atomi disposti a
forma di tavolo. Per un nichilista mereologico la Spagna e il Portogallo non
compongono la Penisola Iberica allo stesso modo di come la mano destra e la
mano sinistra non compongono il corpo umano, perché né la Penisola Iberica né
il corpo umano esistono (in senso mereologico, perlomeno). Moderatismo Le somme
mereologiche esistono soltanto in determinati casi e solo qualora vengano
soddisfatte determinate circostanze. Un moderatista potrebbe ammettere che la
Spagna e il Portogallo compongano la Penisola Iberica in virtù di qualche
proprietà di queste parti, ma negare che la mano destra e quella sinistra
compongano qualcosa. Universalismo Le somme mereologiche esistono in tutti i
casi, anche qualora non sembri possibile a prima vista. Per un universalista
qualsiai insieme di oggetti, ancorché totalmente differenti, compone qualcosa.
Non soltanto, dunque, la Spagna e il Portogallo compongono la Penisola Iberica,
ma anche la mano destra e quella sinistra compongono una somma, benché non
esista un termine per riferirsi ad essa. La nozione di somma mereologica,
assieme a quella di prodotto mereologico, costituisce la base della mereologia
estensionale classica (o CEM). Note Modifica ^ -Logia, in Treccani.it –
Vocabolario Treccani Istituto dell'Enciclopedia Italiana. Coniglione Leśniewski,
Stanisław, in Treccani.it – Enciclopedie on line, Istituto dell'Enciclopedia
Italiana, Varzi ^ Achille Varzi, Ontologia e metafisica, in Agostini e Nicla
Vassallo (a cura di), Storia della Filosofia Analitica, Torino, Einaudi, Putnam
Calosi; Ferraris Torrengo Inwagen, Material Beings, New York, Cornell
University Press, Ithaca, Varzi (2014) per una definizione di prodotto
mereologico. Cotnoir e Varzi, Mereology, Oxford, Lando, Mereology: A
Philosophical Introduction, Londra, Bloomsbury. Varzi, Mereology, in The
Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, Stanford, Edward N. Zalta, Calosi,
Mereologia, in APhEx (Analytical and Philosophical Explanation), , Lezione 2 -
In difesa della relatività concettuale., in Etica senza ontologia, tr. it. di
Eddy Carli, prefazione di Luigi Perissinotto, Milano, Paravia Bruno Mondadori
Editori, Coniglione, 2.2.8. I contributi in campo logico, in Nel segno della
scienza: la filosofia polacca del Novecento, Milano, FrancoAngeli, Torrengo,
2.6.5. Parte-intero, in Maurizio Ferraris (a cura di), Storia dell'ontologia,
Milano, Bompiani, Ferraris, Glossario, in Ontologia, Napoli, Guida, Voci
correlate Modifica Logica Ontologia Collegamenti esterni Modifica ( EN )
Achille Varzi, Spatial reasoning and ontology: parts, wholes, and locations (
PDF ), in M. Aiello, I. Pratt-Hartmann, e J. van Benthem (a cura di), Handbook
of Spatial Logics, Berlino, Springer-Verlag, Varzi, Ontologia, in SWIF Edizioni
Digitali di Filosofia, Volume Supplementare 2, Roma, Università degli Studi di
Bari , Bosco, La Fundierung nella Terza ricerca logica di Husserl, in
Dialegesthai, Roma. Portale Filosofia: accedi alle voci di Wikipedia che
trattano di filosofia Ultima modifica 18 giorni fa di FrescoBot Quantificatore
Rappresentabilità Geometria senza punti Mauro Carbone. Keywords: mereologia,
organicismo in Hegel, il tutto e le parti, dialettica, “individuo e dividuo”,
divisio, visio, compositio, de-compositio, divisum, indivisum -- eidos, forma,
shape, il bello, essere en comune, mit-sein, l’impersonale, l’intrapersonale,
l’interpersonale – tutto, parte, tutto-parte, totum-pars, unita, a-tomon,
a-tomism, atomismo logico. tomismo logico, il tutto e le parti -- #DialetticaDegl’EntrambiDividui
-- -- --. Merleau-Ponty ‘linguaggio’, individuus, dividuus, dividuo -- Refs.:
Luigi Speranza, “Grice e Carbone” – The Swimming-Pool Library. Carbone.
Grice e Carboni: l’implicatura
conversazionale disegno dal vivo, disgeno del nudo dal vero, disegno dal vero,
disegno del nudo dal vero -- disegno dall’antico, desegno dalla natura -- drawn
from life -- tratto dalla vita – royal academy –drawn from the antique -- filosofia
italiana – Luigi Speranza (Livorno). Filosofo italiano. Grice: “I
love Carboni – my favourite of his tracts is ‘between the image and the
‘parable’” – a semiotics of communication with sections on ‘the tacit
response,’ through the looking-glass’, ‘towards the hypertext,’ and quoting
extensively from some ‘conversational-implicature’ passages in Aristotle’s
metaphysics, ‘To ask ‘why is man man?’ is to ask nothing!” “For some expressions,
analogy suffices!” Insegna a Roma, Bari, Viterbo. Altre opere: L’angelo del fare. Melotti e la
ceramica (Skira) e Il colore nell’arte (Jaca).
Cura Dorfles, Brandi, Deleuze, Guattari, Adorno. Tra le recensioni dei
suoi saggi si segnalano: Giacomo Marramao, Gianni Vattimo (“L’Espresso”), Gillo
Dorfles (“Il Corriere della Sera”), Victor Stoichita (“il manifesto”). Al
Festival delle Letterature di Mantova hanno presentato i suoi saggi Sini e Didi-Huberman. Scrive su “Nòema” e “Images Re-vues” e sulla “Rivista di
Estetica”. “L’Impossibile Critico. Paradosso della
critica d’arte, Kappa); “Cesare Brandi. Teoria e esperienza dell’arte, Editori
Riuniti); “Il Sublime è Ora. Saggio sulle estetiche contemporanee, Castelvecchi);
“Non vedi niente lì? Sentieri tra arti e filosofie del Novecento,
Castelvecchi); “L’ornamentale. Tra arte e decorazione, Jaca); “L’occhio e la
pagina. Tra immagine e parola, Jaca); “Lo stato dell’arte. L’esperienza
estetica nell’era della tecnica, Laterza); “La mosca di Dreyer. L’opera della
contingenza nelle arti, Jaca); “Di più di tutto. Figure dell’eccesso,
Castelvecchi); “Analfabeatles. Filosofia di una passione elementare,
Castelvecchi); “Il genio è senza opera. Filosofie antiche e arti contemporanee”
Jaca); “Malevič. L'ultima icona. Arte, filosofia, teologia, Jaca). Drawing after the Antique at the British Museum,
1809–1817: “Free” Art Education and the Advent of the Liberal State, Martin
Myrone Drawing after the Antique at the British Museum, 1809–1817: “Free” Art
Education and the Advent of the Liberal State Martin Myrone Abstract From 1808
the British Museum in London began regularly to open its newly established
Townley Gallery so that art students could draw from the ancient sculptures
housed there. This article documents and comments on this development in art
education, based on an analysis of the 165 individuals recorded in the
surviving register of attendance at the Museum, covering the period 1809–17.
The register is presented as a photographic record, with a transcription and
biographical directory. The accompanying essay situates the opening of the
Museum’s sculpture rooms to students within a farreaching set of historical
shifts. It argues that this new museum access contributed to the early nineteenth-century
emergence of a liberal state. But if the rhetoric surrounding this development
emphasized freedom and general public benefit in the spirit of liberalization,
the evidence suggests that this new level of access actually served to further
entrench the “middleclassification” of art education at this historical
juncture. Authors Martin Myrone is an art historian and curator based in
London, and is currently convenor of the British Art Network based at the Paul
Mellon Centre for Studies in British Art. Acknowledgements The register of
students admitted to the Townley Gallery was originally consulted during my
term as Paul Mellon Mid-Career Fellow in 2014–15. Thank you to Mark Hallett and
Sarah Victoria Turner of the Mellon Centre for their continuing support and
guidance, to Baillie Card and Rose Bell for their careful editorial work, Tom
Scutt for crafting the digital presentation of my research, the two anonymous
readers for their valuable critical input, and to Antony Griffiths, formerly of
the British Museum, and Hugo Chapman, Angela Roche, and Sheila O’Connell of the
British Museum, for providing access to the register and for their advice. I am
especially indebted to Mark Pomeroy, archivist, and his colleagues at the Royal
Academy of Arts for the access provided to materials there and for advice and
suggestions. I would also like to thank Viccy Coltman, Brad Feltham, Martin
Hopkinson, Sarah Monks, Sarah Moulden, Michael Phillips, Jacob Simon, Greg
Sullivan, and Alison Wright. Cite as Martin Myrone, "Drawing after the
Antique at the British Museum, 1809–1817: “Free” Art Education and the Advent
of the Liberal State", British Art Studies, Issue 5,
https://dx.doi.org/10.17658/issn.2058-5462/issue-05/mmyrone From the summer of
1808 the British Museum in London began regularly to open its newly established
galleries of Graeco-Roman sculpture for art students. The collection, made up
almost entirely of pieces previously owned by Charles Townley, had been
purchased for the nation in 1805 and installed in a new extension to the
Museum’s first home, Montagu House, which was built earlier in 1808. After some
protracted discussion with the Royal Academy, detailed below, the collection
was made available for its students in time for the royal opening of the Townley
Gallery on 3 June 1808. From January 1809, a written record was kept of
students admitted to draw from the antique. This volume survives in the library
of the Department of Prints and Drawings at the British Museum and identifies
one hundred and sixtyfive separate individuals admitted through to 1817. 1 The
register forms the focus of this essay and is presented here as a facsimile and
transcription, with an accompanying directory of student biographies (see
supplementary materials below). This may be taken as a straightforward
contribution to the literature on early nineteenth-century art education, and
the author hopes it may be useful as such. However, it also situates the
opening of the Museum’s sculpture rooms to students within a rather more far-reaching
set of historical shifts. Namely, it argues that this new form of museum access
was part of the early nineteenth-century emergence of a liberal state that
“actively governs through freedom (free ‘individuals’, markets, societies, and
so on, which are only ‘free’ because the state makes them so)”. 2 Access to the
British Museum was “free” in that there were no charges or fees. Meanwhile, the
arrangement offered a degree of freedom to the students themselves; they were
expected to be largely self-selecting and self-regulating. When the arrangement
was exposed to public scrutiny, as a result of questions asked in parliament in
1821, the freedom of access and the service this did to the public good were
emphasized. But, once closely scrutinized, the evidence suggests that this
manifestation of the freedoms encouraged by the liberal state had a social
disciplinary role (even if disciplinary function can hardly be recognized as
such), in serving to further entrench the “middle-classification” of art at this
historical juncture. 3 The conjunction of art education and a grandiose notion
such as the liberal state may be unexpected, and rests on three key assertions.
The first is that art worlds are structured and in their structure have a
homological relationship with the larger social environment. 4 The initial part
of this statement (that art worlds are structured) may not be especially hard
to swallow, given the relatively formalized and hierarchical nature of the
London art world during the early nineteenth century, when cultural authority
was vested in a small number of institutions, and the practices associated with
academic tradition in principle still held sway. However, that the structure of
the art world, in its hierarchical dimension, may also be homologically related
to the larger field of power, so that social relationships are reproduced
within this relatively autonomous sphere, is more clearly contentious, and runs
contrary to commonplace beliefs and expectations about talent and luck in
determining personal fate in the modern age—artists’ fortunes most especially.
In fact, in the period under review here, the artist became an exemplary figure
in the new narratives of social mobility: the art world came to serve as a
model of how talent or sheer good fortune could override social origins and
destinies. 5 The second assertion is that the Royal Academy and British Museum
were developing new forms of state institution, underpinned by the conjoined
principles of freedom of access and public benefit. Such has been argued
importantly by Holger Hoock, and while I depart from his arguments in some key
regards, his insights into the status of these institutions and the role of
forms of public–private partnership in their formation are crucial. 6 The third
assertion (and this marks a departure from Hoock), is that the state is not a
stable, centralized entity, or site of power either “up above” or “below”
historical actors. Instead, it is taken to be the sum of actions and
dispositions ostensibly volunteered by these historical agents in all their
multitude and variety. The crucial point of reference here is the sustained
body of work on the liberal state by the historian Patrick Joyce, deploying the
work of Bruno Latour and Michel Foucault, among others, to yield a more
materialistic and decentralized understanding of the emergence and role of
state bodies. 7 The state, in this view, is composed of technologies,
disciplinary structures, habits of mind, and ways of doing things. The
mechanics of art education, insofar as this involves the movement through or
exclusion of individuals from identified places, the arrangement of their
bodies in relation to one another and to their model, the management of their
behaviour within those places, the very motion of their bodies, hands, and eyes
under the surveillance of their peers, teachers or other authorities, may be
considered as a form of biopolitics; the student who entered his or her name
into the British Museum’s register of admission was producing his or her governmentality.
8 The argument here is emphatically historical and states that this
arrangement, while it may have precedents and may have been seminal, belongs to
an historical moment—the emergence of the liberal state. My case, which can be
sketched out only in outline in this context, is that the emergence of the
familiar institutional arrangements of the modern art world between the 1770s
and the 1830s (in the form of actual institutions and regulatory structures or
permissions, including annual exhibitions, centralized art schools supported by
the state directly and indirectly, emphasis on quantifiable measures of access
and engagement as the test of public value, and so forth) represents in an
exemplary way the illusory freedoms promoted by liberalism, and renewed by
present-day “neo- liberalism”, as addressed by commentators from the prophetic
Karl Polanyi through to the later work of Foucault and Bourdieu on the state,
and Luc Boltanski and Eve Chiapello, among others. 9 The early
nineteenth-century art world can be proposed as a privileged focus of attention
because it was still of a scale which can allow for the kinds of data-based
analysis which must underpin any sort of sociological exploration, and because
its individual membership can be documented in fine detail in a manner which is
simply not possible at an earlier historical date. Paradoxically, despite its
announced commitment to non-intervention and personal freedom, the emerging
liberal state generated huge amounts of documentation about society and its
individual members—tax records, parochial and civil records, the national
census from 1801—which digitilization has made more readily available than ever
before, allowing this generation of artists to be documented as never
previously. 10 The production of artistic identities through these records is
not unrelated to changes in artistic identity itself over the same timeframe.
One way of realizing this might be to consider the period outlined above—c.
1770–1830s—not as a period from the foundation of the Royal Academy to its
removal to Trafalgar Square, or even as the era of Romanticism, as much
literary and cultural history-writing would dictate, but as the era from Adam
Smith’s Wealth of Nations (1776) to the Reform Act (1832) and the Speenhamland
system, a last experiment in patrician social care before the Poor Law
Amendment Act (1834), taking in Thomas Malthus and David Ricardo. The challenge
is thinking of these two frameworks not in sequential or spatially
differentiated ways, but as simultaneous and identical. Within this emerging
liberal state the figure of the artist is attributed with a special degree and
form of freedom, what has conventionally been alluded to, in generally
sociologically imprecise ways, as a feature of “Romanticism”, slumping into
“bohemianism” and a generic idea of art student lifestyle. If this was a moment
of unprecedented state investment in the arts (from the Royal Academy through
to the Schools of Design) and government scrutiny (notably with the Select
Committees), it simultaneously saw the emergence of artistic identities
expressing the values of personal freedom, freedom from regulation, and even
active opposition to the state. I propose that art education, as it took shape
in the emerging liberal state, might be explored as a “liberogenic” phenomenon:
among those “devices intended to produce freedom which potentially risk
producing exactly the opposite.” 11 As such, it may have renewed pertinence for
our own time, although this does not entail seeing a “causal” relationship
between the past and present, or a linear genetic relationship between then and
now. In fact, the purpose of this commentary, and the larger project it arises
from, 12 is rather to trouble our relationship with that past. The intention is
not, however, to point unequivocally to the era under consideration as here
entailing “the making of a modern art world”, with the rise of art education
and museums access representing a stage towards democratization, as illuminated
in stellar fashion by the great Romantic artists (J. M. W. Turner—famously the
son of a lowly London barber—pre-eminently). I would want instead to take
seriously Jacques Rancière’s call for “a past that puts a radical requirement
at the centre of the present”, eschewing causality and “nostalgia” in favour of
“challenging the relationship of the present to that past”. 13 If giving
attention to the “freedom” of art education at the advent of the liberal state
provides any insight at all, it should do so by troubling rather than affirming
our narratives of the genesis of a modern art world. Access to the Townley
Gallery The arrival at the Museum of the Townley marbles, together with the
development of the prints and drawings collection and its installation in new,
secure rooms in the same wing, fundamentally changed the character of the
institution. As Neil Chambers has noted, having been primarily a repository of
(often celebrated) curiosities of many different forms, quite suddenly “The
Museum was now a centre for art and the study of sculpture.” 14 The shift was
acknowledged internally at the Museum by the creation in 1807 of a distinct
Department of Antiquities, which also had responsibility for the collection of
prints and drawings. But while the significance of the opening of the Townley
Gallery in the history of the British Museum is clear, the opening of the
collection to students has barely been noticed in the art-historical
literature. The register has been overlooked almost entirely, and the relevance
of this development in student access may not even be immediately obvious. 15
Figure 1. William Chambers, The Sculpture Collection of Charles Townley in the
dining room of his house in Park Street, Westminster, 1794, watercolour, 39 x
54 cm. Collection of the British Museum. Digital image courtesy of Trustees of
the British Museum Figure 2. Attributed to Joseph Nollekens, The Discobolus,
1791–1805, drawing, 48 x 35 cm. Collection of the British Museum. Digital image
courtesy of Trustees of the British Museum Townley’s collection had already
famously been on display for many years at his private house in Park Street,
London. William Chambers’ (or Chalmers’) drawing of the Park Street display
from 1794 includes a well-dressed young woman drawing under the supervision or
advice of a man, promoting the idea that the collection was available for
sufficiently genteel students of the art more generally (fig. 1). In his
recollections of the London art world, J. T. Smith described “those rooms of Mr
Townley’s house, in which that gentleman’s liberality employed me when a boy,
with many other students in the Royal Academy, to make drawings for his
portfolios”. 16 Smith’s former employer, the sculptor Joseph Nollekens, has
been identified among the more established artists who were also engaged by Townley
to draw from marbles in the collection (fig. 2). As Viccy Coltman has noted,
“The townhouse at 7 Park Street, Westminster became an unofficial counterpoint
to the English arts establishment that was the Royal Academy: as an academy of
ancient sculpture, much as Sir John Soane’s London housemuseum in Lincoln’s Inn
Fields would become an academy of architecture in the early 19th century.” 17
Evidently, a number of the students and artists admitted to draw from the
Townley marbles once they were at the British Museum knew them formerly at
first hand from visiting 7 Park Street; for instance, William Skelton, admitted
to draw at the Museum in 1809, had apparently already studied and engraved
three busts from the collection for inclusion in the design of Townley’s
visiting card (fig. 3). Townley had hoped for a separate gallery to be erected
to house the collection, but his executors, his brother Edward Townley Standish
and uncle John Townley were unable to agree a plan. 18 The sale of the
collection to the Museum was a compromise. With the erection of a new gallery
space for the collection underway, the Museum considered how special access
might be given to artists. That the question was posed at all should be an
indication of how far the realm of cultural consumption and production was
being folded in to the emerging liberal state at this juncture. At a meeting of
the Trustees on 28 February 1807, a committee was set up to consider how the
prints and drawings collections might be used by artists, and to draw up
“Regulations... for the Admission of Strangers to view the Gallery of
Antiquities either separately from, or together with the rest of the Museum:
And also for the Admission of Artists”. 19 Figure 3. William Skelton, Charles
Townley's visiting card, 1778–1848, etching, 65 x 96 cm. Collection of the
British Museum. Digital image courtesy of Trustees of the British Museum With
the Gallery still under construction, the Sub-Committee was not obliged to move
quickly, and it proved to be a protracted and unexpectedly fractious affair. 20
It was not until the Museum’s general meeting of 13 February 1808, that the
principal librarian, Joseph Planta, reported “his opinion of the best time
& mode of admission of Strangers as well as artists, to the Gallery of
Antiquities”, with the request that Benjamin West, President of the Royal
Academy, be asked to attend a further meeting. 21 After delays, he did so on 10
March, after which the Council drew up a set of regulations. 22 These went back
to the Academy with additions and changes, which were accepted by the Council
who wrote to the British Museum on the 10 May to that effect, noting that a
General Meeting of the Academy was to take place, “to prepare the final
arrangement for his Majesty’s approbation”. 23 Accordingly, at the British
Museum, the Sub-Committee’s reports and proposals were approved by the Standing
Committee, with “Resolutions founded on the above mentioned Reports” read at
the General Meeting of 14 May. 24 The resolutions, numbered so as to be
inserted in the existing regulations regarding admissions, were confirmed in
the meeting of 21 May, over three months after what should have been a
straightforward matter was raised (see Appendix, below). 25 Clause number
eight, concerning the payment of Academicians charged with the supervision of
students, evidently caused some consternation within the Academy, as recorded
in the diary of Joseph Farington. 26 The relative authority of the Council and
General Assembly had been a contentious matter in previous years, and the
lengthy dispute over arrangements with the Museum reflected lingering tensions.
On 12 July 1808 the proposals were read, and “After a long conversation it was
Resolved to adjourn.” 27 The subject was taken up on re-convening on 21 July,
but without resolution. 28 At yet another meeting, on 26 July 1808, the point
about the Academy’s provision of superintendents to monitor the students while
at the British Museum was referred back to Council. 29 We have to turn to
Farington’s diary for a fuller account. He noted that the Academy’s General
Assembly had met on 12 July “for the purpose of receiving a Law made by the
Council ‘That permission having been granted by the Trustees of the British
Museum for Students to study from the Antiques &c at the Museum, certain
days are fixed upon for that purpose, & that an Academician shall attend
each day at the Museum & to be paid 2 guineas for each day’s attendance’...
Much discussion took place.” 30 At a further meeting: “The Correspondence of
the Council with the Sub Committee of the British Museum was read from the
beginning” and “much discussion” was had about the supervision of the students,
Farington making the point that: as the studies of the British Museum shd. be
considered those of completion and not to learn the Elements of art the Academy
shd. not recommend any student whose abilities & conduct wd. not warrant
it, that it should be considered the last stage of study, when those admitted
wd. not require constant inspection; therefore daily attendance of a Member of
the Academy wd. not be necessary. 31 The point of contest may have concerned
the right of the Council to organize things independent of the General Assembly
of the Academicians, and a more general question about economy (“Northcote
proposed that the Academician who in rotation shall attend at the British
Museum, shd. have 3 guineas a day. West thought one guinea sufficient”). 32 But
Farington’s point is more revealing in indicating the expectation that the
selected students of the Academy were to be largely self-regulating, and
self-disciplining; they were to be granted freedom because they had already
internalized the discipline required by these institutions. Figure 4. Front
cover, Register of Students Admitted to the Gallery of Antiquities, 1809–17.
Collection of the British Museum. Digital image courtesy of Trustees of the
British Museum The matter finally settled, students were admitted to the
Townley Gallery from at least the beginning of 1809: the first entries in the
register book are dated 14 January 1809 (figs. 4 and 5 to 11). On that date
four students were enrolled, although only one of them was at the Royal
Academy. That was Henry Monro, the son of Dr Thomas Monro, Physician at Bedlam
and an amateur and collector who ran the influential “academy” at his home in
Adelphi Terrace. The other students included two of the daughters of Thomas
Paytherus, a successful London apothecary, and a Ralph Irvine of Great Howland
Street, who seems quite certainly to have been Hugh Irvine, the Scottish landscape
painter and a member of the landowning Irvine family of Drum, who gave that
address in the exhibition catalogue of the British Institution’s show in 1809.
Another five students registered in February and July. This included another
recently registered Royal Academy student, Henry Sass, whose name was entered
into the Academy’s books in 1805, recommended for study at the British Museum
by the architect and RA John Soane, and the artists William Skelton, Adam Buck,
Samuel Drummond, and Maria Singleton. The mix of amateur and professional
artists, young and old, and indeed the mix of male and female students
(discussed below), continued throughout the register. View this illustration
online Figure 5. Page 1, Register of Students Admitted to the Gallery of
Antiques, 1809–17. Collection of the British Museum. Digital image courtesy of
British Museum View this illustration online Figure 6. Page 2, Register of
Students Admitted to the Gallery of Antiquities, 1809–17. Collection of the
British Museum. Digital image courtesy of Trustees of the British Museum View
this illustration online Figure 7. Page 3, Register of Students Admitted to the
Gallery of Antiquities, 1809–17. Collection of the British Museum. Digital
image courtesy of Trustees of the British Museum View this illustration online
Figure 8. Page 4, Register of Students Admitted to the Gallery of Antiquities,
1809–17. Collection of the British Museum. Digital image courtesy of Trustees
of the British Museum View this illustration online Figure 9. Page 5, Register
of Students Admitted to the Gallery of Antiquities, 1809–17. Collection of the
British Museum. Digital image courtesy of Trustees of the British Museum View
this illustration online Figure 10. Page 6, Register of Students Admitted to
the Gallery of Antiques, 1809–17. Collection of the British Museum. Digital
image courtesy of Trustees of the British Museum View this illustration online
Figure 11. Page 7, Register of Students Admitted to the Gallery of Antiques,
1809–17. Collection of the British Museum. Digital image courtesy of Trustees
of the British Museum Eight of the twelve students registered on 11 November
were current Academy students; this proportion of Academy students to others
continues throughout the record. But on the same day Planta noted to the
standing committee that the Royal Academicians not having availed themselves of
the Regulations in favour of their Pupils, & many applications having been
made to him for leave to draw in the Gallery of Antiquities, he therefore submitted
to the consideration of the Trustees, whether persons duly recommended might
not be admitted in the same manner as in the Reading Room. 33 The matter was
referred on to the general meeting. 34 On 9 December 1809 the new regulations
were confirmed: Students who apply for Admission to the Gallery are to specify
their descriptions & places of abode; and every one who applies, if not
known to any Trustee or Officer, will produce a recommendation from some person
of known & approved Character, particularly, if possible, from one of the
Professors in the Royal Academy. 35 On 10 February 1810 it was instructed “That
the Regulation respecting the mode of Admission of Students to the Gallery of
Sculpture, as made at the last General Meeting be printed & hung up in the
Hall, & at the entrance into the Gallery”. 36 The students admitted through
1810 were predominantly students at the Royal Academy, but also included the
emigré natural history painter the Chevalier de Barde and Charles Muss, already
established as an enamel and glass painter. The same pattern was apparent in
subsequent years. Twenty-five students were registered in 1811 and again in
1812, before numbers dropped to twelve in 1813, eight in 1814, picking up with
nineteen in 1815, and dropping to nine in 1816. The Museum’s original
stipulation that no more than twenty Academy students be admitted each year did
not, it appears, create any undue constraints on the flow of admissions. Far
from having a monopoly over student admissions, as the Museum’s original regulations
had anticipated, the Royal Academy had apparently been distinctly
laissez-faire, doing little to try to push students forward to make up the
numbers. The galleries the students gained access to comprised a sequence of
rooms within the new wing added to accommodate the growing collection of
sculptural antiquities, notably the Egyptian material taken from the French at
Alexandria in 1801. The Egyptian antiquities dominated the galleries in terms
of sheer size, although the visual centrepiece, whether viewed from the
Egyptian hall or through the extended enfilade of rooms II–V where the Townley
marbles were displayed, was the Discobolus (fig. 12). 37 The intimate scale of
the galleries brought benefits, as German architect Karl Friedrich Schinkel noted
on his visit of 1826: “Gallery of antiquities in very small rooms, lit from
above, very restful and satisfying”. 38 But is also imposed a practical limit
on the numbers of students who could attend. This changed when, in 1817, the
Elgin marbles were put on display at Montagu House in spacious, if
warehouse-like, temporary rooms newly annexed to the Townley Gallery (fig. 13).
The spike of interest recorded in the register, with thirty-seven students
listed under the heading “1817”, must reflect this new opportunity. The
register terminates at this point, although the volume continued to be used to
record students and artists admitted to the prints and drawings room (upstairs
from the Townley Gallery) from 1815 through to the 1840s. 39 Figure 12.
Anonymous, View through the Egyptian Room, in the Townley Gallery at the
British Museum, 1820, watercolour, 36.1 x 44.3 cm. Collection of the British
Museum. Digital image courtesy of Trustees of the British Museum Figure 13.
William Henry Prior, View in the old Elgin room at the British Museum, 1817,
watercolour, 38.8 x 48.1 cm. Collection of the British Museum. Digital image
courtesy of Trustees of the British Museum Some form of register must have been
maintained, but appears not to have survived, and evidence of student
attendance after 1817 is largely a matter of anecdotal record. 40 These later
records also, incidentally, point to the variety of student practice in the
galleries. While the Museum’s original stipulations made the presumption that
admitted artists would be drawing (“each student shall provide himself with a
Portfolio in which his Name is written, and with Paper as well as Chalk”),
students evidently worked in different media as well. James Ward referred
explicitly to “modelling” in the Museum in his diary entries of 1817; and
George Scharf’s watercolour of the interior of the Townley Gallery from 1827
(fig. 14) shows a student sitting on boxes at work at an easel, with what
appears to be a paintbrush in his right hand and a palette in his left. 41 Nonetheless,
the Townley marbles had lost much of their allure. Jack Tupper, a rather
unsuccessful artist associated with the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, recalled
his growing disillusion when studying at the British Museum in the late 1830s:
“So the glory of the Townley Gallery faded: the grandeur of ‘Rome’ passed.” 42
Figure 14. George Scharf, View of the Townley Gallery, 1827, watercolour, 30.6
x 22 cm. Collection of the British Museum. Digital image courtesy of Trustees
of the British Museum The material record of student activity in the Townley
Gallery, in the form of images which seem definitely to derive from this
special access to the Museum, is extremely scarce. 43 Whatever was produced in
the Gallery was, after all, generally only for the purposes of study, and was
unlikely to be retained or valued after the artist’s death. John Wood, a
dedicated student at the Royal Academy from 1819, noted: “I am surprised at the
comparatively few drawings I made in the Antique School at the Royal Academy,
including my probationary one, not exceeding five, with an outline from the
group of the Laocoon.—In the British Museum I made a chalk drawing from the
statue of Libēra for Mr Sass”, that is, the Townley Venus, apparently drawn by
Wood as an exercise for the well-known drawing teacher Henry Sass. 44 Student
drawings after the antique must have been numerous, but that does not mean they
were preserved. J. M. W. Turner had apparently attended the Plaster Academy
over one hundred and thirty times up to the point he became an ARA, in 1799. 45
Yet even with a figure of his stature, whose studio contents were so completely
preserved, and whose dedication to academic study was so notable, we have only
a handful of drawings which appear certainly to derive from his time at the
schools. 46 There are, doubtless, traces of study in the Museum to be uncovered
in finished works of the period. Charles Lock Eastlake’s youthful figure of
Brutus in his ambitious early work is evidently a direct lift from the marble
of Actaeon attacked by his own hounds in the Townley collection; he had been
admitted to draw from the antique in 1810 (figs. 15 and 16). But given the
dissemination of classical prototypes (in graphic form as well as in plaster)
it would be hard to insist that it was only access to the British Museum’s
antiquities which made such allusion strictly possible. Figure 15. Charles Lock
Eastlake, Brutus Exhorting the Romans to Revenge the Death of Lucretia, 1814,
oil on canvas, 116.8 x 152.4 cm. Collection of the Wiliamson Art Gallery &
Museum. Digital image courtesy of Wiliamson Art Gallery & Museum Figure 16.
Anonymous, Marble figure of Actaeon attacked by his hounds, Roman 2nd Century,
marble, 0.99 metres high. Collection of the British Museum (1805,0703.3).
Digital image courtesy of Trustees of the British Museum The Register of
Students as Social Record Of arguably greater interest than the question of the
“influence” of access to the marbles on artistic practice is the evidence the
register provides about the social profile of the students. This takes us to
the heart of the question about the relationship between art education and the
state. This was, in fact, a question raised at the time. The British Museum was
in 1821 obliged to draw up a report on student and public attendance of the
Museum, prompted by Thomas Barrett Lennard MP, who had entered a motion in the
House of Commons seeking reassurance that this publicly funded institution was
not “merely an establishment for the gratification of private favour or
individual patronage”. 47 Lennard’s questions arose from a growing body of
criticism directed against the Museum, which turned on the question of whether,
as a publicly funded body, everyone could expect free access, or only a more
specialist minority. As one critic jibed in 1822, “If the British Museum is
open only to the friends of the librarians, & their friends’ friends, it
ceases to be a public institution.” 48 The report elicited by Lennard’s
question provided a detailed breakdown of admissions. With regard to providing
access to draw from the antique, the Museum indulged the impression that it not
only fulfilled but exceeded its commitment to admitting Royal Academy students:
providing the figures for the period 1809–17 (based, surely, on the register
under consideration here), the Museum’s report elaborated: The Statute for the
admission of Students in the Gallery of Sculptures being among those required
by the Order of the House of Commons, it may not be irrelevant to add, that the
number of students who were admitted to make drawings in the Townley Gallery,
from the year 1809 to the year 1817, amounted to an average of something more
than twenty. 49 Notably, this summary gives the clear impression that the
antiques were being opened to the students of the Royal Academy; such is, quite
reasonably, presumed by Derek Cash in his recent, careful commentary on
admission procedures at the Museum. 50 The report also pointed to recent
changes: In 1818, immediately subsequent to the opening of the Elgin Room, two
hundred and twenty-three students were admitted: in 1819, sixty-nine more were
admitted, and in 1820, sixty-three. It asserted that, now: Every student sent
by the keeper of the Royal Academy, upon the production of his academy ticket,
is admitted without further reference to make his drawings: and other persons
are occasionally admitted, on simply exhibiting the proofs of their
qualification. According to the present practice, each student has leave to
exhibit his finished drawing, from any article in the Gallery, for one week
after its completion. 51 Thus stated, the Museum appeared to be fulfilling its
public duty in providing free access to appropriately qualified students. The
bare figures might seem to indicate a steady rise in student interest, which
could be taken as a marker of quantitative success. In one of the earliest
historical accounts of the Museum, Edward Edwards implied that the statistical
record was evidence of how Planta had progressively extended access to the
Museum: “From the outset he administered the Reading Room itself with much
liberality... As respects the Department of Antiquities, the students admitted
to draw were in 1809 less than twenty; in 1818 two hundred and twenty-three
were admitted.” 52 At that level of abstraction the information appears beyond
dispute. What I test in the remainder of this essay is how these statements
stand up to the more individualized account of student activity represented in
the biographical record. That record does include the most assiduous students
of the Royal Academy of the time, who certainly did not need the kind of
“constant inspection” Farington worried about, the kind of student anticipated
by the Museum’s regulations. Among these we could count Henry Monro, Samuel F.
B. Morse and Charles Robert Leslie, William Brockedon, Henry Perronet Briggs,
William Etty and Henry Sass, the last two famously dedicated as students of the
Academy. 53 However, the full biographical survey of the register points to a
more complicated situation. Of the one hundred and sixty-five individuals named
in the register, it has proved possible to establish biographical profiles for
the majority: details are most lacking for about twenty-four of the attending
students, although in most of those cases we can conjecture at least some
biographical context. 54 Slightly less than half the total number of
individuals listed were recorded as students at the Academy at a date which
makes it reasonably likely that they were actively attending the schools when
they were admitted to the British Museum (eighty in all). 55 Around twenty more
established male artists attended, and several of these were formerly students
at the Royal Academy, including John Samuel Agar, John Flaxman, and James Ward.
Whether they were pursuing their private studies or undertaking more specific
professional tasks is not always clear. There are, certainly, a few cases where
the latter appears to be the case. When William Henry Hunt was admitted it was
explicitly for the purpose of preparing drawings for a publication; both
William Skelton and John Samuel Agar were probably admitted in connection with
his ongoing work engraving from sculptures at the Museum. It seems likely that
the “Students to Mr Meyer”, that is, the engraver and print publisher Henry
Meyer, were engaged on professional business, as was Thomas Welsh, recommended
by the publisher Thomas Woodfall. More striking, though, is the determined
presence in the register of artists who did not pursue the art professionally
or full-time, including the relatively well-documented Chevalier de Barde,
Arthur Champernowne, John Disney, Hugh Irvine (assuming he is the “Ralph
Irvine” who appears in the register), Robert Batty, Edward John Burrow, Edward
Vernon Utterson, and a number of others designated as “Esq”, so clearly from
the polite classes, even if their exact identities remain unclear. There are at
least fifteen male individuals who appear to come from backgrounds sufficiently
socially elevated or affluent enough to suggest they were taking an amateur
interest rather than pursuing serious studies. 56 Enough of these men are known
to have practised art to make it quite certain that they were not, at least
generally, being admitted to consult the collection without intending to draw,
and John Disney was admitted explicitly “to make a sketch of a Mausoleum”.
Notable, in this regard, are the large number of women admitted to study, most
of whom are or appear to be from polite backgrounds, including the Paytherus
sisters, Elizabeth Appleton, Louisa Champernowne, Miss Carmichael, Elizabeth
Batty, Miss Home, Lucy Adams, Jane Gurney, Maria Singleton, and Anne Seymour
Damer. 57 Some were established artists, or became so; others were pursuing art
as a polite accomplishment, or at least we can assume so given their family circumstances;
in other cases the situation is by no means clear-cut. All were admitted
without special comment or notice despite the issues of propriety around the
drawing of even the sculptured nude figure by female artists which crops up in
contemporary commentaries. 58 This may be all the more striking given the
relative paucity of women admitted as readers at the British Museum library
over the same period: only three out of the three hundred and thirty-three
admitted between 1770 and 1810, as surveyed by Derek Cash. 59 On this evidence,
the field of artistic study was, in the most literal terms, relatively female
compared even to the study of literature or history. This points to an
under-explored context for the inculcation of the students into life as an artist:
the “feminine” sphere of the home, and of siblings (whether brothers or
sisters) alongside parents. We have, surely, barely begun to consider the
family as the context in which artists are made as much as, if not more than,
the studio and academy. Nor is it straightforward to assume that those
individuals who had enrolled as Academy students also had expectations about
the professional pursuit of the art. Among the Academy students who attended, a
large proportion, including a majority of the most assiduous, were from polite
social backgrounds, with fathers in the professions, or who were office-holders
or from the landowning classes, including Henry Monro, John Penwarne, Richard
Cook, William Drury Shaw, Charles Lock Eastlake, Henry Perronet Briggs,
Alexander Huey, Thomas Cooley, Samuel F. B. Morse, Andrew Geddes, John
Zephaniah Bell, Thomas Christmas, John Owen Tudor, and Samuel Hancock. Others
were the sons of elite tradesmen, highly specialized craftsmen or merchants,
including William Brockedon, Seymour Kirkup, Charles Robert Leslie, Gideon
Manton, and John Zephaniah Bell. These were not, either, predestined to be
artists, by simply following in their father’s footsteps, but were opting in to
an artistic career, having had, usually, a decent education, and access to
material and social support. In many cases their brothers, who shared the same
upbringing, became doctors or lawyers, property-owners or merchants. A number
of individual students gave up the practice of the art—Thomas Christmas became a
landowner in Willisden; Richard Cook was able to retire, wealthy; Seymour
Kirkup languished in Rome dabbling in the arts; William Brockedon became more
engaged as an inventor and traveller; while others were never really obliged to
draw an income from their practice but pursued art as a pastime. It remains the
case that there was a high level of occupational inheritance; perhaps
thirty-eight of the students (23 percent) had fathers who were architects,
engravers or artists in painting or sculpture. Many were the sons of
established artists (including Rossi, Bone, Stothard, Ward, Dawe, Wyatt,
Bonomi, and the brothers Stephanoff); a few were part of “dynasties”
encompassing generations engaged in the arts (Wyatt, Wyon, Hakewill, Landseer).
Even then, there is the case of John Morton (noted confusingly as “John Martin”
in the register, although the address given provides for a firm
identification), who, although the son of an artist and a student at the Royal
Academy, exhibited personally as an “Honorary”, suggesting he was not
professionally engaged. That his brother became quite prominent as a physician
suggests that this was a quite emphatically middle-class family setting. There
are several points to derive from this information, even as lightly sketched as
it necessarily is here. Firstly, it is noteworthy that while female students
were a minority they were a definite presence; in this regard, the British
Museum was like other spaces of artistic study, notably the painting school at
the British Institution. 60 The observation is upheld by the contemporary
records of student attendance at the British Institution or of copyists at
Dulwich Picture Gallery, and should serve as a reminder that the Royal Academy
was exceptional among the spaces of art education in being so entirely male. 61
Secondly, it is striking how few came from humble backgrounds unconnected with
the art world; really, only a handful, which would include John Tannock (son of
a shoemaker in Scotland), William Etty (son of a baker in York), John Jackson
(son of a village tailor in Yorkshire), and William Henry Hunt (whose father
was a London tin-plate worker). The circumstances which led to their gaining
access to the London art world are, therefore, noteworthy, as a third and most
important point would be to emphasize how emphatically metropolitan, polite,
and middle-class was the British Museum as a site of artistic education. The
Townley Gallery on student days was a place where working artists, students,
amateurs, and patrons mingled. 62 While the Royal Academy is conventionally
seen as an engine of professionalization, it is striking that the social
affiliations of artists point to strong, arguably increasingly strong,
affiliations between amateurs and professionals—to the extent that our terminology
around this point needs to be reconsidered. Looking over the biographical
survey, the kind of social suffering or precariousness typically associated
with artists’ lives, perhaps especially during the era of industrialization, is
markedly absent. When it does appear—most strikingly with the grim life-stories
of the siblings Jabez and Sarah Newell—they are among the minority of students
from backgrounds neither closely connected with the art world, nor comfortably
middle-class or genteel. The examples of stellar social ascent and achievement
on the basis of talent alone are real; but they are the exceptions rather than
representative. The relative weight of personal and Academic connection is
exposed in the record of the provision of references for students. Of the
forty-three referees recorded between 1809 and 1816, less than half (nineteen)
were Academicians. One of those was Henry Fuseli, who as Keeper of the Academy
Schools through this period must have provided references as part of his
duties, and accordingly provided the second largest number of recommendations
(nineteen; all but one students at the RA). The lead in providing references
was taken by William Alexander, artist and keeper of prints and drawings
(twenty-two; mainly but not exclusively students). Overall, officers and
Trustees were most active in admitting students. Most only ever provided a
reference for one, or at most a handful, and the jibe about “friends of the
librarians, & their friends’ friends” contains some truth. But the same
point applies to the artists, most of whom only ever recommended one student,
often known personally to them already: David Wilkie recommended his assistant,
John Zephaniah Bell; George Dawe provided a reference for his own son; Thomas
Lawrence for his pupil William Etty; Thomas Phillips and John Flaxman, the
relatives of fellow Academicians; Thomas Stothard, the son of a neighbour
(Kempe). Geography, too, seems to have played a role, with referees often
coming from the same area as their favoured student: Francis Horner recommended
John Henning, whom he had known in their native Scotland; the Scottish George
Chalmers recommended James Tannock; Arthur Champernowne put forward William
Brockedon, his protégé, whom he had supported in moving from Devon to the
metropolis to pursue art; James Northcote recommended two fellow West
Countrymen; Benjamin West, notorious for giving special assistance to visiting
American students, two such (Leslie and Morse). If the admission procedure
could be interpreted as an opportunity for the Academy to assert a corporate,
professionalized identity, based purely on merit, we can nonetheless detect
underlying patterns of kinship, personal, social, and geographical affiliation.
Simply stated, even if study at the Museum was free and freely available, any
given student would still need to access a letter of reference and the time to
go to the Museum (as well as the material means to acquire the portfolio,
paper, and chalks anticipated by the Trustees). The opening hours for students
militated against anyone attending who had to use these daylight hours for
work, a point which was made quite often with reference to the Reading Room
through this period. 63 The most assiduous students needed the time free to
study at the British Museum, something that well-off students like Eastlake,
Brockedon, Briggs, and Monro had readily available to them. Their peers at the
Academy who were obliged to work during the day to make a living, or who were
serving apprenticeships, would simply not be able to make the hours available
at the Museum. 64 The ambitious painter Thomas Christmas was free to attend the
Museum, having dedicated himself to study after working as a clerk, but his
brother, Charles George Christmas, who held down a job in the Audit Office,
would have struggled; accounting for his studies at the Academy, he had told
Farington, “He shd. continue to do the business at the Auditors' Office,
Whitehall, which occupies Him from 10 oClock till 3 each day, as it will keep
His mind free from anxiety abt. His means of living and leave Him with a
feeling of independence.” 65 Given that the students were admitted to the
Townley Gallery from noon to 4 o’clock in the afternoon, and that the Trustees
continued to prohibit the use of artificial lights in the Museum, there was
scarcely any real possibility of Charles George Christmas attending, although
he also enjoyed the comforts of a middle-class home background (their father
was a Bank of England official). With the ascent of utilitarian criticism, visitor
levels were turned to anew as a measure of the institution’s fulfilment or
failure to fulfil its “national” purpose. On strictly statistical terms, the
Museum seemed to be successful at providing opportunities for art students.
Only under the closest scrutiny, with attention to the “micro-history” of
individual lives, does that illusion start to be tested. It is, though, at this
“micro” level that we can apprehend the characteristic paradox of an emerging
cultural modernity, one that is still with us. Yet the point, to follow
Rancière, is not to see the past ascent of a present situation, but to force
ourselves to feel uneasy with that sense of recognition and its tacit model of
history. The evidence is that free access to culture and the (circumscribed)
promotion of equality were combined with socially restrictive patterns of
preferment. 66 Study at the British Museum may have been free, and freely
available to properly qualified students of the Academy, but you needed to be
in the right place at the right time, to have the time available, and, indeed,
to know or at least be able to access the right people, to get in. This point
may seem unduly sociological or even tendentious, but overlooking it involves a
denial of the socially invested nature of time, specifically, of the scholastic
time (given over to study or contemplation or to creation) mythically removed
from the influence of social forces. 67 The acts of nomination which saw
certain men and women given special access to the Townley Gallery, acts so
seemingly trivial in themselves involving perhaps only an exchange of words and
a scribbled note, were microcosmic manifestations of social authority of the
most far-reaching kind. 68 When Robert Butt, the principal manager of the
bronze and porcelain department at Messrs Howell & James, Regent-street,
was examined by the Select Committee on Arts and Manufactures in 1835, he
noted: The process by which a knowledge of the arts of painting and sculpture
is now acquired is this: a young man receives tuition from a private master; he
draws from the antique at the British Museum for a certain time, and when he
shows that he has sufficient talent to qualify him for a student of the Royal
Academy he is admitted; but the expense of acquiring that preliminary knowledge
is considerable, and the young artist must also be maintained by his relatives
during the time that he is acquiring it. 69 The following year, in a further
parliamentary committee, this time dedicated to testing out the British
Museum’s claims to public status, James Crabb, “House Decorator” of Shoe Lane,
Fleet Street, was asked, “Did you ever obtain any assistance, by means of
casts, from the better specimens of sculpture in the Museum or elsewhere?”, to
which he replied, “I should derive assistance from them if I had the
opportunity, but I have not time.” 70 Considered sociologically, as the
personal experience of these men seems to have obliged them to do, time was
certainly of the essence. The prevalence of students with secure middle-class
backgrounds at the British Museum might, then, be taken as evidence of an early
phase in the “middle-classification” of art practice, the awkward but evocative
phrase used recently by Angela McRobbie in her eye-opening observations of
careers in the present-day creative industries. 71 Whatever emphasis may be put
on equality of access to educational opportunity, however rigorously fairminded
and anonymized the tests and measures involved in admission procedures, without
forms of positive support to counterbalance or actively adjust social
inequalities, those same inequalities will tend to be reproduced,
homologically, in the educational field. This is patently not a simple matter
of social and material advantage underpinning artistic enterprise in a wholly
predictable way; such would be a nonsense, in light of the many students who
did not enjoy such advantages. Instead, it is the very flexibility built into
the exclusionary processes of the emerging cultural field which is
significant—the possibility that talented students could get access, gain
reputation, achieve success, without being limited by their social origins.
“Freeing” art education allowed for the expression of personal preferences or
dispositions at an individual level, which at an aggregate level reproduced
larger power relations. Exposing that ultimately exclusionary process, which
may be marked only in small differences, in personal dispositions and
behaviours, in the personal choices and decisions which are neither truly
personal nor really pure as choices, is no small task. This essay, and the
biographical survey accompanying it, with its details of a multitude of student
lives otherwise scarcely recorded or recognized, is intended as a small
contribution to that larger project, with the excess of data presented here
perhaps imposing, in itself, new requirements on our understanding of the
history of art education. Appendix Regulations for the admission of students of
the Royal Academy to the Townley Gallery at the British Museum (May 1808): [7]
That the students of the Royal Academy be admitted into the Gallery of
Antiquities upon every Friday in the months of April, May, June, & July,
& every day in the months of August and September, from the hours of twelve
to four, except on Wednesdays and Saturdays the Students, not exceeding twenty
at a time, to be admitted by a Ticket from the President and Council of the
Royal Academy, signed by their Secretary. [8] The better to maintain decorum
among the Students, a person properly qualified shall be nominated by the Royal
Academy from their own body, who shall attend during the hours of study; the
name of such person to be signified in writing, from time to time, by the
Secretary of the Royal Academy to the Principal Librarian of the British
Museum. [9] That the members of the Royal Academy have access to the Gallery of
Antiquities at all admissible times, upon application to the Principal
Librarian or the Senior under Librarian in Residence [10] That on the Fridays
in April, May June & July one of the officers of the Department of
Antiquities do attend in the Gallery of Antiquities according to Rotation in
discharge of his ordinary Duty. [11] That in the months of August &
September some one of the several Officers of the Museum, then in Residence, do
(according to a Rotation to be agreed upon by themselves & confirmed by the
Principal Librarian) attend on the Gallery upon the Days for the
admission of Students. [12] That the attendants in the Department of
Antiquities be always present in the Gallery during the times when the Students
are admitted. 72 Footnotes The original register is held in the Keeper’s
Office, Department of Prints and Drawings, British Museum. Patrick Joyce,
“Speaking up for the State” (2014), https://www.opendemocracy.net/ourkingdom/ patrick-joyce/
speaking-up-for-state. These points are made in light of a larger research
project, which has given rise to the present study: a biographical survey of all
the students of paintings, sculpture, and engraving who were active at the
Royal Academy schools between its foundation in 1769 and 1830 together with a
monograph, provisionally titled The Talent of
Success: The Royal Academy Schools in the Age of Turner, Blake and Constable,
c. 1770–1840 (forthcoming). This fuller survey indicates several important
shifts over these decades, including a fundamantal shift in the proportion of
students coming from family backgrounds in the arts and design-oriented
trades, in comparison with those coming from professional and genteel
backgrounds. It exposes, specifically, a new group whose fathers were engaged
as “officers”, in the civil service or bureaucratic roles, who in turn had a
disproportionate representation within the developing art establishment (as
Academicians, or as officials in other cultural bodies). The term “art world”,
as designating a space of co-production, stems from Howard S. Becker, Art
Worlds (1984), rev. edn (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2008).
As deployed here, it is closer in conception to the sociological “field” as
detailed by Pierre Bourdieu across a succession of influential works. Notable
among these, for present purposes because of its methodological statement about
the homological analysis of the world (field) of art in relation to the field
of power, is The Rules of Art, trans. Susan Emanuel (Cambridge: Polity Press,
1996), esp. 214–15. See, notably, the chapter on “Workers in Art” in Samuel
Smiles’s Self-Help, first published 1859 with numerous further editions. On the
self-motivated artist as the model for all forms of work, see Angela McRobbie,
Be Creative: Making a Living in the New Culture Industries (Cambridge: Polity
Press, 2016), esp. 70–76. Holger Hoock, The King’s Artists: The Royal Academy
of Arts and the Politics of British Culture, 1760–1840 (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2003) and Hoock, “The British State and the Anglo-French Wars
Over Antiquities, 1798–1858”, Historical Journal 50, no. 1 (2007): 49–72. Patrick
Joyce, The Rule of Freedom: Liberalism and the Modern City (London: Verso,
2003) and Joyce, The State of Freedom: A Social History of the British State
Since 1800 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013); also his “What is the
Social in Social History?”, Past and Present 206, no. 1 (2010): 213–48. On this
Foucauldian framing of art education and creative production within liberalism,
see McRobbie, Be Creative, 71–76 and passim. Karl Polanyi, The Great
Transformation: The Political and Economic Origins of Our Time (1944; Boston,
MA: Beacon Press, 2002); Michel Foucault, The Birth of Biopolitics: Lectures at
the Collège de France, 1978–1979, ed. Michel Sennelert, trans. Graham Burchell
(Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008); Luc Boltanski and Eve Chiapello, The
New Spirit of Capitalism, trans. Gregory Elliott (London and New York: Verso,
2007); Pierre Bourdieu, On the State: Lectures at the Collège de France,
1989–1992, ed. Patrick Champagne and others, trans. David Fernbach (Cambridge:
Polity Press, 2014). See Edward Higgs, Identifying the English: A History of
Personal Identification 1500 to the Present (London: Bloomsbury, 2011), 97–119.
Higgs’s account is, essentially, positive about the liberties and rights
secured by this rising documentation. The position taken here is more
determinedly Foucauldian. For the foundational role of statistics in
“liberalisation”, and the hidden affinities between the liberal and the
totalitarian, see Michael Foucault, “Society Must Be Defended”: Lectures at the
Collège de France, 1975–76, ed. Mauro Bertani and Alessandro Fontana, trans.
David Macey (London: Penguin, 2004). Foucault, Birth of Biopolitics, 69. A
biographical dictionary of Royal Academy students from 1769–1830. See note 3,
above. Jacques Rancière, The Method of Equality: Interviews with Laurent
Jeanpierre and Dork Zabunyan, trans. Julie Rose (Cambridge: Polity Press,
2016), 108. Neil Chambers, Joseph Banks and the British Museum: The World of
Collecting, 1770–1830 (London: Routledge, 2007), 107. The register is mentioned
in the notice of Seymour Kirkup in G. E. Bentley, Blake Records, 2nd edn (New
Haven, CT, and London: Yale University Press, 2004), 289n. Kirkup was an
unusually assiduous student at the Museum, admitted in 1809 and renewing his
ticket through to 1812. The reference in Bentley appears to be the only
published reference to the register. The admission of the Paytherus sisters to
draw at the Museum is noted by James Hamilton in his London Lights: The Minds
that Moved the City that Shook the World, 1805–51 (London: John Murray, 2007),
72, although with reference to the early Reading Room register (marked “1795”)
in the British Museum Central Archive, rather than the volume in Prints and
Drawings. See J. T. Smith, Nollekens and his Times, 2 vols., 2nd edn (London:
Henry Colburn, 1829), 1: 242. Viccy Coltman, Classical Sculpture and the
Culture of Collecting in Britain since 1760 (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2009), 242–44. See B. F. Cook, The Townley Marbles (London: British Museum
Press, 1985) and Ian Jenkins, Archaeologists and Aesthetes in the Sculpture
Galleries of the British Museum, 1800–1939 (London: British Museum Press,
1992). Chambers, Joseph Banks, Derek Cash, “Access to Museum Culture: The
British Museum from 1753 to 1836”, British Museum Occasional Papers 133 (2002),
68.
http://www.britishmuseum.org/research/publications/research_publications_series/2002/
access_to_museum_culture.aspx. The British Museum, Central Archive,
C/1/5/1029–30. Library of the Royal Academy of Arts, London, CM/4/50–52.
Library of the Royal Academy of Arts, London, CM/4/59. The British Museum,
Central Archive, C/1/5/1034. The British Museum, Central Archive,
C/1/5/1043–144. Cf. “Chapter III: Concerning the Admission into the British
Museum”, in Acts and Votes of Parliament, Statutes and Rules, and Synopsis of
the Contents of the British Museum (London, 1808), 15–16. Joseph Farington, The
Diary of Joseph Farington, ed. Kenneth Garlick, Angus Macintyre, and others, 17
vols. (New Haven, CT, and London: Yale University Press, 1978–98), 9: 3284.
Library of the Royal Academy of Arts, London, GM/2/366, 370. Library of the
Royal Academy of Arts, London, GM/2/371. Library of the Royal Academy of Arts,
London, GM/2/372–73. Diary of Joseph Farington, 9: 3313. Diary of Joseph
Farington, 9: 3317. Diary of Joseph Farington, 9: 3284. The British Museum,
Central Archive, C/3/9/2426. The British Museum, Central Archive, C/3/9/2428.
The British Museum, Central Archive, C/1/5/1069. The British Museum, Central
Archive, C/1/5/1070. The arrangement of the galleries was first detailed in a
written description provided by Westmacott for Prince Hoare’s Academic Annals
(London, 1809) and in Taylor Combe’s A Description of the Ancient Marbles in
the British Museum, 3 vols. (London, 1812–17). See Cook, Townley Marbles,
59–61. Karl Friedrich Schinkel, “The English Journey”: Journal of a Visit to
France and Britain in 1826, ed. David Bindman and Gottfried Riemann (New Haven,
CT, and London, 1993), 74. The record of admissions to view prints and drawings
must have arisen from the new regulations issued by the Trustees in November
1814; see, Antony Griffiths, “The Department of Prints and Drawings during the
First Century of the British Museum”, The Burlington Magazine 136, 1097 (1994):
536. In March 1817 the student artist William Bewick wrote to his brother: “I
last Monday set my name down as a student in the British Museum.” See Thomas
Landseer, ed., Life and Letters of William Bewick (Artist), 2 vols. (London:
Hurst and Blackett, 1871), 1: 37. Edward Nygren, “James Ward, RA (1769–1859):
Papers and Patrons”, Walpole Society 75 (2013): 16. Jack Tupper, “Extracts from
the Diary of an Artist. No.V”, The Crayon, 12 December 1855, 368. An album of
drawings of the Townley Marbles in the British Museum (2010,5006.1877.1–40)
appears to have been collected by Townley himself, so dates to before the
installation of the marbles at the Museum. The drawings serve as records of the
objects rather than student exercises. The drawings by John Samuel Agar in the
Getty Research Institute are evidently preparatory for the prints published in
Specimens of Antient Sculpture. BL Add MS 37,163 f.106. This and other figures
in the Townley collection could also be found as casts in the Royal Academy’s
plaster schools, so even if Wood’s drawing, for example, could be traced, it
could not definitively be said to be made in the Townley Gallery. See Ann
Chumbley and Ian Warrell, Turner and the Human Figure: Studies of Contemporary
Life, exh. cat. (London: Tate Gallery, 1989), 12–13. Eric Shanes, Young Mr
Turner: The First Forty Years, 1775–1815 (New Haven, CT, and London: Yale
University Press, 2016), 33–34. Hansard (House of Commons), 16 February 1821,
c.724 (online at http://hansard.millbanksystems.com/commons/ 1821/feb/16/british-museum).
See Cash, “Access to Museum Culture”, 197–225 for a full account of public
discussions around this date. Quoted in Cash, “Access to Museum Culture”, 208.
British Museum: Returns to two Orders of the Honourable House of Commons, dated
16 th February 1821, House of Commons, 23 February 1821, 2. Cash “Access to
Museum Culture”, 71. Quoted in The Literary Chronicle, 17 March 1821, 168.
Edward Edwards, Lives of the Founders of the British Museum (London: Trübner
and Co., 1870), Acts and Votes of Parliament, Statutes and Rules, and Synopsis
of the Contents of the British Museum. London, 1808. Becker, Howard S. Art
Worlds (1984). Rev. edn. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2008.
Bentley, G. E. Blake Records. 2nd edn. New Haven and London: Yale University
Press, 2004. Boltanski, Luc, and Eve Chiapello. The New Spirit of Capitalism.
Trans. Gregory Elliott. London and New York: Verso, 2007. See Martin Myrone,
“Something too Academical: The Problem with Etty”, in William Etty: Art and
Controversy, ed. Sarah Burnage, Mark Hallett, and Laura Turner (London: Philip
Wilson, 2011), 47–59. The barest and most conjectural biographies include those
for William Carr of New Broad Street; W. W. Torrington; Edward Thomson; Richard
Moses; and Mr Lewer. Information is most notably lacking for the trio of Miss
Cowper, Miss Moula, and Mr Turner of Gower Street; William Hamilton of Stafford
Place; William Irving of Montague Street; Thomas Williams of Hatton Garden;
Daniel Jones; M. Hatley of Albermarle Street; Miss Edgar; Miss Carmichael of
Granville Street; Mr Atwood; Mr Higgins of Norfolk Street; George Pisey of
Castle Street; Charles White of George Street; Robert Walter Page of Wigmore
Street; Henry A. Matthew; Thomas Welsh; and John Hall. Students were entered as
“probationers” for a period of three months (which might be extended), and once
registered could attend the Schools for a period of ten years. Ralph Irvine;
Arthur Champernowne; the Chevalier de Barde; John Disney; John Campbell; Edward
Utterson; John Lambert; Robert Batty; Alexander Huey; Richard Thomson; Charles
Toplis; John Frederick Williams; Edward Burrows; William Carr; W. W.
Torrington. Jane Landseer; Janet Ross; Georgiana Ross; the two Misses
Paytherus; H. Edgar; Maria Singleton; Elizabeth Appleton; Louisa Champernowne;
Miss Carmichael; Elizabeth Batty; Frances Edwards; Eliza Kempe; Ann Damer; Miss
Cowper; Miss Moula; Miss Trotter; Miss Adams; Sarah Newell; Emma Kendrick; Jane
Gurney. Gentleman’s Magazine (1820) and A Trip to Paris in August and September
(1815), quoted by William T. Whitley in his Art in England, 1800–1820 (London:
Medici Society, 1928), 263, as evidence that “It was still thought improper for
women to study from such figures” as the Apollo Belvedere. Cash, “Access to
Museum Culture”, 113. As the American Samuel F. B. Morse (a student at the
Royal Academy and the British Museum) noted in 1811: “I was surprised on
entering the gallery of paintings at the British Institution, at seeing eight
or ten ladies as well as gentlemen, with their easels and palettes and oil
colours, employed in copying some of the pictures. You can see from this
circumstance in what estimation the art is held here, since ladies of
distinction, without hesitation or reserve, are willing to draw in public.” See
Edward Lind Morse, ed., Samuel F. B. Morse: His Letters and Journals, 2 vols.
(Boston, MA: Houghton Mifflin, 1914), 1: 45. Lists of students admitted to copy
at the British Institution appear in the Directors’ minutes, NAL RC V 12–14,
and in contemporary press reports. Individuals admitted to copy at Dulwich
Picture Gallery were routinely listed in the “Bourgeois Book of Regulations”
from 1820; photocopies and notes at Dulwich Picture Gallery, C1 and H3. This is
expecially clearly expressed in James Ward’s diary notes on his visits in 1817,
meeting there the artists William Skelton, Joseph Clover, Henry Fuseli, and
William Long, but also the gentlemen collectors and scholars William Lock,
Edward Utterson, and Francis Douce (Nygren, “James Ward”). See Cash, “Access to
Museum Culture”, 217 and passim. Although the timing of the Academy’s evening
classes might seem to be more accommodating, even this may have been
challenging. The master of Richard Westall, later a watercolour painter,
“permitted him to draw at the Royal Academy, in the evenings; but for that
indulgence he worked a corresponding number of hours in the morning”.
Gentleman's Magazine, February 1837, 213. Diary of Joseph Farington, 4: 4783.
On educational tests as linking “macro” and “micro”, “both sectoral mechanisms
or unique situations and societal arrangements”, see Boltanski and Chiapello,
New Spirit of Capitalism, 32. See Pierre Bourdieu, Pascalian Meditations,
trans. Richard Nice (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2000). “Acts of nomination,
from the most trivial acts of bureaucracy, like the issuing of an identity
card, or a sickness or disablement certification, to the most solemn, which
consecrate nobilities, lead, in a kind of infinite regress, to the realization
of God on earth, the State, which guarantees, in the last resort, the infinite
series of acts of authority certifying by delegation the validity of the
certificates of legitimate existence”, Bourdieu, Pascalian Meditations, 245.
The potentially trivial nature of the acts of nomination involved in gaining
access to the British Museum is highlighted in Joseph Planta’s own account of
providing recommendations (for the Reading Room) often only on the basis of
casual conversations. See Cash, “Access to Museum Culture”, 207. Report of the
Select Committee on Arts and Manufactures, House of Commons, 4 September 1835,
40. Report of the Select Committee on the British Museum, quoted in Edward
Edwards, Remarks on the “Minutes of Evidence” Taken before the Select Committee
on the British Museum, 2nd edn (London [1839]), 14. McRobbie, Be Creative. The
British Museum, Central Archive, Bourdieu, Pierre. On the State: Lectures at
the Collège de France, 1989–1992. Ed. Patrick Champagne and others. Trans.
David Fernbach. Cambridge: Polity Press, 2014. – – –. Pascalian Meditations.
Trans. Richard Nice. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2000. – – –. The
Rules of Art. Trans. Susan Emanuel. Cambridge: Polity Press, 1996. Cash, Derek.
“Access to Museum Culture: The British Museum from 1753 to 1836.” British
Museum Occasional Papers 133 (2002)
http://www.britishmuseum.org/research/publications/research_publications_series/2002/
access_to_museum_culture.aspx Chambers, Neil. Joseph Banks and the British
Museum: The World of Collecting, 1770–1830. London: Routledge, 2007. Chumbley,
Ann, and Ian Warrell. Turner and the Human Figure: Studies of Contemporary
Life. London: Tate Gallery, 1989. Coltman, Viccy. Classical Sculpture and the
Culture of Collecting in Britain since 1760. Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2009. Combe, Taylor. A Description of the Ancient Marbles in the British
Museum, 3 vols. London, 1812–17. Cook, B. F. The Townley Marbles. London:
British Museum Press, 1985. Edwards, Edward. Lives of the Founders of the
British Museum. London: Trübner and Co., 1870. – – –. Remarks on the “Minutes
of Evidence” Taken before the Select Committee on the British Museum. 2nd edn.
London [1839]. Farington, Joseph. The Diary of Joseph Farington. Ed. Kenneth
Garlick, Angus Macintyre and others. 17 vols. New Haven and London: Yale
University Press, 1978–98. Foucault, Michel. The Birth of Biopolitics: Lectures
at the Collège de France, 1978–1979. Ed. Michel Sennelert. Trans. Graham
Burchell. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008. – – –. “Society Must Be Defended”:
Lectures at the Collège de France, 1975–76. Ed. Mauro Bertani and Alessandro
Fontana. Trans. David Macey. London: Penguin, 2004. Griffiths, Antony. “The
Department of Prints and Drawings during the First Century of the British
Museum.” The Burlington Magazine 136 (1994): 531–44. Hamilton, James. London
Lights: The Minds that Moved the City that Shook the World, 1805–51. London:
John Murray, 2007. Higgs, Edward. Identifying the English: A History of
Personal Identification 1500 to the Present. London: Bloomsbury, 2011. Hoock,
Holger. “The British State and the Anglo-French Wars Over Antiquities,
1798–1858.” Historical Journal 50, no. 1 (2007): 49–72. – – –. The King’s
Artists: The Royal Academy of Arts and the Politics of British Culture,
1760–1840. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003. Jenkins, Ian. Archaeologists
and Aesthetes in the Sculpture Galleries of the British Museum, 1800–1939.
London: British Museum Press, 1992. Joyce, Patrick. The Rule of Freedom:
Liberalism and the Modern City. London: Verso, 2003. – – –. “Speaking up for
the State” (2014).
https://www.opendemocracy.net/ourkingdom/patrick-joyce/speaking-up-for-state –
– –. The State of Freedom: A Social History of the British State Since 1800.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013. – – –. “What is the Social in
Social History?” Past and Present 206, no. 1 (2010): 213–48. Landseer, Thomas,
ed. Life and Letters of William Bewick (Artist). 2 vols. London: Hurst and
Blackett, 1871. McRobbie, Angela. Be Creative: Making a Living in the New
Culture Industries. Cambridge: Polity Press, 2016. Morse, Edward Lind, ed.
Samuel F. B. Morse: His Letters and Journals. 2 vols. Boston: Houghton Mifflin,
1914 Myrone, Martin. “Something too Academical: The Problem with Etty.” In
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Turner. London: Philip Wilson, 2011, 47–59. Nygren, Edward. “James Ward, RA
(1769–1859): Papers and Patrons.” Walpole Society 75 (2013). Polanyi, Karl. The
Great Transformation: The Political and Economic Origins of Our Time (1944).
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of a Visit to France and Britain in 1826. Ed. David Bindman and Gottfried
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Yale University Press, 2016. Smiles, Samuel. Self-Help: With Illustrations of
Character and Conduct. London: John Murray, 1859. Smith, J. T. Nollekens and
his Times, 2 vols. 2nd edn, London: Henry Colburn, 1829. Tupper, Jack.
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drawn from the antique Artists & the
Classical Ideal Adriano Aymonino and Anne Varick Lauder with contributions from
Eloisa Dodero, Rachel Hapoienu, Ian Jenkins, Jerzy Kierkuc ́-Bielin ́ski,
Michiel C. Plomp and Jonathan Yarker sir john soane’s museum 2015 Drawn
from the Antique: Artists & the Classical Ideal An exhibition at Teylers
Museum, Haarlem 11 March – 31 May 2015 Sir John Soane’s Museum, London 25 June
–26 September 2015 This catalogue has been generously supported by the
Tavolozza Foundation and the Wolfgang Ratjen Stiftung, Vaduz This exhibition
has been made possible through the support of the Government Indemnity Scheme
Sir John Soane’s Museum is a non-departmental body and is funded by the
Department for Culture, Media and Sport Published in Great Britain 2015 Sir
John Soane’s Museum, 13 Lincoln’s Inn Fields, London, wc2a 3bp Tel: 020 7405
2107 www.soane.org Reg. Charity No. 313609 Text © the listed authors All
photographs © as listed on pages 254–56 ISBN (paperback): 978-0-9573398-9-7
ISBN (hardback): 978-0-9932041-0-4 Designed and typeset in Albertina and
Requiem by Libanus Press Ltd, Marlborough Printed by Hampton Printing (Bristol)
Ltd Frontispiece: Michael Sweerts, A Painter’s Studio (detail), c. 1648–50,
cat. 12 (p. 134) Page 10: Hendrick Goltzius, The Apollo Belvedere (detail),
1591, cat. 6 (p. 107) Page 78: William Pether, An Academy (detail), 1772, cat.
24 (p. 189) Contents Preface 6 Abraham Thomas Introduction 7 Adriano Aymonino
and Anne Varick Lauder Acknowledgements 9 Ideal Beauty and the Canon in
Classical Antiquity 11 Ian Jenkins and Adriano Aymonino ‘Nature Perfected’: The
Theory & Practice of 15 Drawing after the Antique Adriano Aymonino
Catalogue Bibliography Photo credits 79 232 254 - authors of catalogue
entries AA: Adriano Aymonino: AVL: Anne Varick Lauder: Eloisa Dodero: cats 9,
22 JK-B: Jerzy Kierkuc ́-Bielin ́ski: cat. 29 JY: Jonathan Yarker: cats 24, 25,
26, 27, 28 MP: Michiel C. Plomp: cats 6, 7, 8, 11, 31, 32 RH: Rachel Hapoienu:
cats 1, 2, 4, 33. The exhibition ‘Drawn from the antique: artists and the
classical ideal” examines the crucial role played by antique sculpture in
artistic education and practice, a theme which lies at the heart of the
conception of Sir John Soane’s Museum. As a student at the Royal Academy, Soane
wins a travelling scholarship to embark on the grand tour. This forms the basis
of a classical education which would prove to be an enduring influence on his
subsequent career as one of the most important architects of the Regency
period. The drawings, paintings and prints selected for the exhibition ‘Drawn
from the antique – artists and the classical ideal’ offer a glimpse into an
intriguing world of academies, artists’ workshops and private studios, each
populated with carefully chosen examples of statuary which provide compelling
snapshots of classical antiquity. Similarly, within his house and museum at
Lincoln’s Inn Fields, Soane creates his own bespoke arrangements of ancient
statuary and architectural fragments, providing educational tools which defined
an informal curriculum for both his Royal-Academy students and the apprenticed
pupils working within his on-site architectural office. In fact, one could
consider much of Soane’s museum as an extended series of studio spaces,
intended for academic improvement and personal inspiration. The concept of the
exhibition ‘Drawn from the antique – artists and the classical ideal’ evolves from
a series of conversations between Timothy Knox, and the collector K. Bellinger,
to see if there may be some way to showcase the Bellinger extraordinary and
unique collection of art-works *depicting* artists’ studios. We extend a
special thanks to K. Bellinger, not only for her generosity in allowing us to exhibit
these wonderful pieces but also for all the hard work in securing some stunning
loans from other collections. We are grateful for the loans from the Getty
Collection, the Rijksmuseum, the Kunsthaus Zürich, the Kunstbibliothek in
Berlin. For the UK loans we would like to thank The British Museum, the
Victoria and Albert Museum, the Royal Academy of Arts and the Courtauld
Gallery. “Drawn From The Antique: Artists and The Classical Ideal” is a collaboration
between The Soane Collection and the Teylers Collection, and I am grateful to M.
Scharloo for agreeing to host the first leg of this exhibition, and also to
Michiel Plomp, for facilitating the exhibition in Haarlem. It feels rather
appropriate that the founders of our two institutions, Teyler and Soane, were
both collectors with singular visions of how their collections should provide a
resource for academic study and creative practice. This exhibition would not
have been possible without the fantastic curatorial team that K. Bellinger assembled:
A. Aymonino, A. Varick Lauder, and R. Hapoienu. I would like to express my
gratitude to them for bringing the project to fruition. I would also like to
thank Paul Joannides for his editing work on the catalogue and all of my
colleagues at the Soane who worked to make this exhibition a reality,
especially S. Palmer, D. Jenkins and J. Kierkuc-Bielinski, as well as S.
Wightman at Libanus for designing such a beautiful catalogue. Finally, I would
like to extend a special thanks to the Tavolozza Foundation and the Wolfgang
Ratjen Stiftung, Vaduz, for their generous support of the exhibition and the
catalogue. The exhibition explores one of the central practices of artists for
years: drawing after the antique – l’antico. Ancient Graeco-Roman statuary provides
artists with a “model” from which he learns how to represent the volume, the pose
and the expression of the male nude and which simultaneously offers a perfected
example of anatomy and proportion. For an established artist, a piece of antique
statuary or a elief offers a repertory of form that serves as inspiration. Because
the imitation (mimesis) and representation of nature is the principal aim of the
classical artist, education in a workshop or an academy revolves around the
study of geometry and perspective – to represent space – and anatomy, the antique
but also THE LIVE MODEL – to learn how to deploy and mould the male body
convincingly in a piece of statuary. This practical approach to the antique –
as a convenient model for depicting or moulding the naked male form – is accompanied by a more
theoretical, aesthetic, and philosophical one. A piece of ancient Graeco-Roman
statuary statue is perceived as a bench-mark of perfection and of the Platonic
concept of ideal beauty, the physical result of a careful selection of the best
parts of nature. Classical Graeco-Roman authors, such as the Italians Vitruvio,
Cicerone or Plinio, reveal to the artist and the philosopher that antique statuary
is based on a system. There is a Pythagoreian harmonic proportions. This rests
on the mathematical relationships between a part of the body and the whole
body. A piece of ancient statuary therefore embodies the same rational
principle on which the harmony of the cosmos and nature are based. It is the
powerful combination of this rational and universal principle that the antique
expresses, together with its extreme versatility as a model of forms, that
guarantees its ubiquitous success. Students in the early stages of their
training are encouraged to ‘assimilate’ fully the idealised beauty of a classical
statue through the copying of plaster casts. Only then can he be exposed to an
‘imperfections of nature’ as embodied by the live naked male model (“Drawn From
Life”). This is intended to provide the craftsman with a standard of perfection
that is then infused into his own statuary. For an artist, it was considered
essential to travel to Rome. At Rome, the artists confront the venerated
antique ‘original’ – not the copy -- and assembles his own ‘drawn’ collections
of models – ‘drawn from the antique’ only, not ‘drawn from life’, for which you
don’t need to go to Rome. Drawing (desegno) is considered the only intellectual
part of an art – the first sensorial (specifically visual) manifestation of an idea.
Drawing from and ‘after’ the Antique (desegno dall’antico) is the union of
intellectual medium and intellectual subject. It becomes an integral part of
the learning process and the activity of the artist who aims at pleasing the
Society gentleman. It proves crucial for legitimising the ambitions of the artist
who fashions himself as a practitioner of a liberal and intellectual activity.
So widespread is it, that representing the practice itself developed into an
artistic genre. Through a selection of pieces exemplifying this fascinating
category of images, by artists as diverse as the Italian Zuccaro, Dutch Goltzius
and Rubens, French Natoire, Swiss Fuseli and English Turner, we may attempt to
analyse this phenomenon. We begin with an image relating to an early Italian
academy and with a portrait, in which a piece of ancient statuary is included.We
may proceed to an image of an artist as he ‘draws’ after a celebrated statue –
the Apollo del Belvedere and the Laoconte, il torso del Belvedere, l’Antino del
Belvedere – in the cortile ottogono del casino della villa Belvedere in Monte
Vaticano, the Belvedere collection that serves as a model. We next may explore
the varied approaches of artists to a piece of ccanonical statuary in Rome and
the ways in which the Italian academic curriculum – with the antique (l’antico)
as one of the two cornerstones (the other being: ‘natura’) – spreads all over
Rome, where each palazzo claims its collection – Farnese, Ludovisi, Albani – and
even up to La Tribuna di Firenze.An Italian drawing manual is a powerful
vehicle for the uncostested establishment and entrenchment of the classical
ideal. Significantly, a manual illustrates the practice of copying after the antique
in their frontispieces. Next follow two of the most relevant images embodying
the classicist credo of the accademia dell’arte at Rome and academie des beaux
arts a Paris. The accademia a Roma codifies a structured syllabus. First-hand
experience of the Antique ‘original’ in Rome becomes a must. Fuseli magnificently
draws the fragments of the head, right hand, and left foot of the colossal
statue of Constantine at the
Campidoglio. Fuseli’s image expresses a ‘romantic’ attitude towards
classical statuary, based on the direct emotion and empathy – the eros of
Plato, and the catharsis of Aristotle -- rather than a ‘study’ (studio) of an idealised
beauty and proportion. Classicism is embraced and an academic syllabus is
developed to graduate from the academy – as opposed to the nobility who can
still practice amateur and present their statues at the annual exhibitions. The
elite, educated in the classics, has a crucial role in disseminating the
classical ideal. For less privileged students at Oxford (‘only the poor learn at
Oxford’) the Ashmolean starts collecting a plaster cast of this or that
original in Rome. Statues serve a decorative purpose in the villa garden
fountain --- and the palazzo interior -- a clear sign of the commercialisation
and further diffusion of the Antique. But while classical statuary becomes a n
attract when doing the calls. Its role within academic curricula remains well-established.
The Antique as a canonical model begins to be challenged by the more dynamic
and innovative forces of art, a challenge that led to its rapid decline. The
last exhibit shows a plaster copy of the celebrated ancient bust of Homer at
the Farnese collection in Napoli is placed on equal footing with a bust of a
non-classical author, neo-classical statuary, and even with a multicoloured
porcelain parrot, reveals how the Antique becomes just one of the many
historical references favoured by society, if not by Society. Although focused
on images representing the relationship of an artist WITH the Antique, that is,
the act or performance of copying or drawing from or after it, this catalogue
includes also examples of the product of the practice: sketches actually ‘drawn
from the antique’ not by students wanting to pass, but by professionals such as
Goltzius, destined to be disseminated through the engraving. We have also
included drawings by Rubens and Turner showing the compromising practice of
setting a live model in the pose of the antique model – lo spinario, i
lottatori in the case of a syntagma or statuary group -- and an early academic
study by Turner the student of the torso del Belvedere (Aiace contempla
suicidio). An image may portray how the artist HIMSELF in the presence of the
Antique. The point of view should always be that of the intended addressee: the
noble Epicurean connoisseur. The form and ideas that he enjoys and seeks in the
classical model, the diversity of his taste according to his mood, and the
kinds of image that are created to show their own relationship with the
Antique. The attitudes towards classical statuary of a manic collector or an antiquarian,
although touched upon in the essays and in some of the entries, are not
discussed at length. We also decided to focus primarily on free-standing in the
round male nude statue or syntagma (i lottatori), as opposed to a relief. The
free-standing in the round reproduction of the male naked body is what the
gentleman enjoys in terms of the proportion, the anatomy and his beauty. A
relief rather serves as a compositional model and inspiration for a narrative mythological
or historical scene. Drawings after reliefs would be the subject of a different
exhibition. The choice of the two venues is entirely appropriate. Haarlem is one
of the earliest Northern cities where the Antique is a subject of debate –
within the private academy established by Mander, Cornelisz, and Goltzius –
whose magnificent series of drawings after canonical classical statues is
preserved in the Teylers Collection. The Soane Collection at Lincoln Fields, on
the other hand, represents an incarnations of the classicist curriculum. It is
an eccentric, kaleidoscopic academy where, in the name of the union of the
arts, the study of Vitruvian and Palladian architecture gets integrated with
the copying of paintings, classical statuary and plaster casts, to attain that
mastery of drawing of the human forms (uomo
vitruviano) advocated by Vitruvius as a crucial element of architecture (to be
replaced by Le Corbusier’s functionalist metron!). The idea for this exhibition
has evolved. The Bellinger Collection is based on a just one theme: the sculptor
at work. Fascinated by the creative process and the mystique surrounding it.
The Bellinger Collection includes items in a range of media – drawings,
paintings, prints, photographs and sculpture. Rather than stage an obvious
‘greatest hits’ exhibition focusing on celebrity, my idea is to show
little-known, rarely exhibited, works and to present aspects of the collection,
which had been rather neglected by scholarship in an attempt to open new
ground. A preliminary step is made by Knox, who approached K. Bellingerto
enquire whether she might showcase works from the collection in the piano
nobile of the Palazz Soane. It soon became apparent that the theme of the
relationship between the sculptor and antique statuary, which seemed so
suitable to the venue of an architect’s palazzo-cum-academy-cum-museum with its
rooms filled with antiquities and plaster reproductions, would have resonance
with the Few. Accompanying a selection of works from the Bellinger Collection
we have attempted to borrow on loan some of the most ‘iconic’ images, and
others less well-known, that demonstrate the evolution of this practice of this
class of ‘Drawn from the Antique’ over an extended period. Almost half of the
works on display have never previously been exhibited and most have not been
shown. The resulting display provides the first overview of a phenomenon
crucial for the understanding and appreciation of ancient Roman art of the
classical Augustean period, which lays stress on the creative processes of the
Italophile artist and on the norms and conventions that guides and inspires his
art. Presenting a relatively small yet coherent display on a topic that
encompasses one of the major themes in the history of Art has been a serious
challenge but a most pleasurable one. Our exhibition could not have been
accomplished without the unwavering support of K. Bellinger, who generously
agreed to part with fourteen choice examples from her little-seen private
collection of images of artists at work and who has remained committed to the
project since its inception: to Ballinger we owe our deepest gratitude. For the
other works on display, we have benefited from the great generosity of
colleagues at lending institutions for agreeing to send works in their care –
some of them among their most popular and requested – to one or both venues of
the exhibition. We owe sincere thanks to H. Chapman at the British Museum, S. Buck
at the Courtauld, R. Hibbard and H. Dawson at the Victoria and Albert, C.
Saumarez-Smith, H. Valentine and R. Comber at the Royal Academy. Abroad we wish
to acknowledge the generosity of L. Hendrix and J. Brooks at Villa Getty, Bernhard
von Waldkirch at the Kunsthaus Zürich, T. Dibbits at the Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam
and K. Käding at the Kunstbibliothek, Berlin. We are enormously grateful both
to the Soane Collection and the Teylers Collection for hosting this two-venue
exhibition. Thanks are due to T. Knox and A/ Thomas, for their support for the
project, and to S. Palmer, and D. Jenkins, for assisting with the loans. M. Scharloo,
of the Teylers and Michiel Plomp, kindly agreed to house the first showing of
the exhibition and to lend works from their collection. The catalogue was
thoughtfully designed and produced by S. Wightman at Libanus, to whom we owe
our warmest thanks, and printed by Hampton Printing in Bristol. R. Hapoienu,
oversaw the photography and contributed immeasurably to the catalogue. Other
curatorial colleagues have given their time and effort in preparing scholarly
entries or essays: E. Dodero, I. Jenkins, J. Kierkuc -Bielinski, M. Plomp and J.
Yarker. Special thanks are due to Dodero for sharing an infinite knowledge of
antique sources. Finally, we are greatly indebted to P. Joannides for his
input. Any and all errors are entirely our own. We wish to acknowledge warmly P.
Taylor and Rembrandt Duits for granting us unfettered access to the
Photographic Collection of the Warburg and other colleagues and friends who
assisted in various ways in bringing this project to fruition: Mattia Biffis, R
Blok, Yvonne Tan Bunzl, Wolf Burchard, Elisa Camboni, Martin Clayton, Zeno
Colantoni, Paul Crane, Daniela Dölling, Alexander Faber, Cameron Ford, Ketty
Gottardo, Martin Grässle, Axel Griesinger, Florian Härb, Eileen Harris, John
Harris, Niall Hobhouse, Matthew Hollow, Peter Iaquinandi, Catherine Jenkins,
Theda Jürjens, Jill Kraye, David Lachenmann, Alastair Laing, Barbara Lasic,
Huigen Leeflang, Cornelia Linde, Anne-Marie Logan, Olivia MacKay, Austeja
MacKelaite, Bernard Malhamé, Patrick Matthiesen, Mirco Modolo, Jane Munro,
Lorenzo Pericolo, Benjamin Peronnet, Camilla Pietrabissa, Eugene Pooley, Pier
Paolo Racioppi, Cristiana Romalli, Gregory Rubinstein, Susan Russell, Nick
Savage, Nicolas Schwed, Ilaria Sgarbozza, Kim Sloane, Perrin Stein, MaryAnne
Stevens, Marja Stijkel, Michael Sullivan, C. Treves, Michiel Ilja M. Veldman,
Anna Villari, Rebecca Wade and Alison Wright. Support for the exhibition and
catalogue was provided by the Tavolozza Foundation and the Wolfgang Ratjen
Stiftung, Vaduz, to whom we owe our sincere gratitude. Ideal Beauty is the
Canon in Classical Antiquity. The practice of drawing from the antique is a
time-honoured one – if not antique! But even the Augustean copy makers knew who
to imitate --. Since Antino became such an icon, we can say that Adrian
finished the practice of ‘drawing from the antique’: He started to ask his
slaves to ‘draw from nature’ – the nature of his lover! The philosopher should
be reminded of the substantial role that the Antique has played in the
education and inspiration of artists for years. Soane famously mixed marble
sculpture with plaster reproductions in the learned and decorative interiors of
his Lincolnfields villa. A constant theme in ancient philosophy (with which any
Oxonian with a Lit. Hum. is more than acquainted with) is that behind the
surface chaos of the tangible sensible world, there is a hidden order (kósmos).
Harmony occurs when the opposite forces in nature (natura, physis), such as wet
and dry, hot and cold, strong and weak, are properly balanced. Well-being
depends upon a set of complementary humours. Reason (logos) – but cf. Dodds on
the irrational -- is the weapon wielded in a constant struggle against the dark
forces of the natural and non-natural artificial conventional realms alike. The
concept of ‘number’ plays an especially important role in the Graeco-Roman, or
Italic world view. Mathematics was most probably acquired from Babylon and
first took root in the cities of Ionia. Pythagora, who had settled in Crotona
and Melosponto in southern Italy, discovers the measurable intervals of the
musical scale This demonstrates that number holds the key to the mysteries of
the harmony of the Universe. Pythagoras was born on the Aegean island of Samos,
which was just one of the many city states that participated in the Ionian
Enlightenment with its concentration of natural philosophers. Applied
mathematics finds a new purpose in the creation of colossal temples in an
architectural culture that takes its inspiration from that of East. The
technical aspects of this new tectonic art are explained in philosophical
treatises. None of them survive but they were known to the Roman philosopher Vitruvio,
who uses them extensively for “De Architectura”. His is the only complete
treatise on ancient Roman architecture to survive. It is the main channel
through which knowledge of ancient Roman architectural principles are handed
down. The impact it has on architecture is paramount. Colossal temples are erected
and foremost among them is the archaic temple of Diana at Efeso. Its forest of
columns, some of them carved pictorially and its painted and gilded mouldings
are breath-taking. The Ionian Enlightenment terminates by the catastrophic
destruction of Mileto y the Persians. The Persians next set out to punish
Athens for her instigation of the revolt. The failure of the Persian invasion
in a series of battles on land and sea serve as a catalyst for a great surge of
art and thought in the city that was the world’s first democracy. It was in
Athens – the ‘Athenian dialectic’ -- that humanity’s sense of self is forged.
It is there that mankind acquires a unique and individual soul with personal
responsibility for its welfare. In classical antiquity mankind places itself at
the centre of the universe and is as Protagoras famously says, ‘the measure of
all things’. Protagoras’s contemporary, the philosopher Socrates, leads the way
in a moral philosophy aimed at penetrating the dark hinterland of human
existence. Humanism prompts a “realism” (de rerum matura) in product of an ‘ars’ that re-presents the naked
male body in a ‘naturalistic’ way. There were those, however, who ha less
positive view of human capacity for self-determination. A recurring theme in
the philosophy of Socrates’ famous pupil, Plato, is the theory of ‘mimesis’ (‘imitatio’),
whereby the product of an ‘ars’ is twice
removed from reality by virtue of its being a ‘copy’ of Nature, which is itself
a copy of the hidden, intangible reality of the abstract world of the Idea. In
Plato’s kósmos, reality is not to be found in Nature. Reality (and ideal
beauty) cannot be detected by *sensing*. Rather, reality and beauty is ‘noetic’
and exists beyond nature (trans-naturalia) and can be grasped only through an effort
of the ‘intellectual’ (logistikon) part of the tri-partite soul (the other two
parts being the thymoeides and the epithymtikon). A man never gets to ‘know’ or
grasp this ideal beauty. Man must be governed by the philosopher king, who has the
intellectual capacity to achieve true knowledge and understanding of the universal
law. The nature that man knows is itself a ‘copy’ (mimesis, imitation –
imitative) of this suprasensible realm, so Plato argued and. As an imitation of
nature, a product of an ‘ars’ is twice removed from the meta-physical intelligible
world. There is no place for the pretensions of artists in the world of true
reality. Only the pure and virtuous abstract beauty and goodness
(kalloskagathia, bonus et pulchrus) of a ‘form’ (‘forma’) is to be found in the
realm of the idea. The clearest and most developed account of Plato’s
condemnation of the idols or products of ‘ars’ and his reasons for banning it
from his ideal state (polizia, politeia) are to be found in the Socratic
dialogue known to modern readers as The Polizia (Politeia). The ‘Polizia’
(Politeia) is beautifully crafted in a series of carefully honed set-piece
speeches in which, and the irony is obvious, Plato demonstrates his skills as a
philosophical artist – the dialogue aimed at beauty, rather than truth. It is
difficult to say to what extent Plato puts words into or takes them out of the
mouth of Socrates. The historical Socrates never wrote anything himself. We can
at least be sure of Socrates’ insistence upon the imperative to pursue
justified true belief (knowledge) as distinct from mere belief or opinion
(doxa) and to seek understanding, as distinct from mere creed. These are after
all the goals by which Socrates measures the moral integrity of man’s
intelligence. When it comes to the standing of the product of an ‘ars’ in
Socrates’s moral landscape, we may wonder whether this marble worker who had
followed in his father’s ‘ars’ himself shares aristocratic Plato’s anti-thetical
view of the ‘artista’. In a dialogue recorded by Xenophon between Socrates and
Parrhasio, it is concluded that the product of an ‘ars’ cannot achieve beauty
by simply ‘reproducing’ (or imitating, or copying) an individual, particular, single,
naked male live model. He who pursues to give a product of an ‘ars’ must
instead select the best part of more than one particular, singular male naked
live model – this is not Adriano’s portraiture of Antino -- melding (or moulding) those parts (individua) together
in such a way as to transcend, by way of a universalium, nature itself (the
natural naked male live model) and turn the ‘re-presentation’ of a ‘beautiful’
(kalos) naked male live model into an ‘ideally’ beautiful naked male body. Aristotle.
ever practical, ever helpful, opposes Plato in arguing that, instead of being a
slave to Nature, man may create (poien) as nature itself created. In his
Poetics and Politics he recognises the civic role of the product of an ‘ars’,
as he praises the value of the products of the ‘ars’ of Polygnotos. “For
Polygnotos re-presents but tweaks a natural male body better than the natural
male body is. It’s an improving (perfection) on, rather than an imitation, of
‘imperfect’ nature of this or that particular naked male body – again this is
not Antino’s portraiture – To this product of the ‘ars’ Aristotle grants the
label of an ideal model – not the live model of imperfect nature. It is futile
to try to guess who said what when. Suffice it to say that the statuary-maker
is under pressure from various sides to justify the product of his ‘ars’ as a
proper exemplar that perfects the imperfection of the natural male live model,
reflecting the universal law of the kósmos. The artist has to look at
philosophical mathematics. There is a historic change in the re-presentation
(improved re-presentation, improvement) in the product of ‘ars’ of the body of
a naked live model. Ironically, the abstract concept behind a ‘youth’ or ‘kouros’
[e. g. marble 194.6 cm (h) Met Museum 32.11] with its ‘formulaic’ tendency to
convey the naked male form of a live model through a descriptive line and a block-like
(rather than waving) form gives way to contrapositum
(contrapposto), and a greater fluidity – if not ‘naturalism’ -- conjuring a three-dimensional
volume of live flesh. This ‘naturalistic’ figure type becomes the standard or
canon. The ‘canon’ itself (first canon, as we shall see – cf. Lisippo) referred
to the Doriforo of Policleto. Policleto obviously moulded and cast in bronze as
he was in front of the real ‘doriforo’ (name unknown), the canon (qua model
what exemplum) with copyists, notably in the copy of 212 com (h) at Naples –
Museo Archeologico Nazionale, Napoli, 1st century bc copy of
original of c. 440 bc, -- inv. 6011 The
canon was famous in antiquity for its elaborate system of measurements about
which Policleto wites a philosophical treatise known as ‘The Canon.’ To judge
from what philosophers say about the spear-bearer, it is an explanation of the
principle of proportion that Policleto declares to be the key to perfection in
the product of the ‘ars’ qua re-presentation of the body of the male live
model. The concept of ‘symmetria’ (commensuratio) is used to describe this
system of a measured proportion. To the ancient authors, however, it signified
a commensurability of parts measured in relation to one another and to the
whole. Thus, the length of a finger was calculated in relation to the hand and
the hand in relation to the whole arm and so on. Ideal beauty, based on
mathematical perfection was, therefore, quantifiable. The preoccupation with
numbers in idealised sculpture has strong links to the number-based aesthetics
of the Pythagorean school of mathematics, first anticipated in architecture.
Another link to the natural philosophy of the Ionian Enlightenment is the
deliberate balancing of opposite motifs. There was found a bio-mechanical
system of parts that were at once weight-bearing and weight-free, engaged and
disengaged, stretched and contracted, tense and relaxed, raised and lowered –
an overall balancing principle of contrapposto found in the statue Doryphoros
and in many classical statues extremely influential. Polykleitos trains at a
workshop (not an academy like Plato’s!) of Ageladas of Argos, along with Mirone.
Mirone’s statue [v. Museo Nazionale Romano, Roma, inv. 126371 – 155 cm (h) copy
of original of c. 460-450, marble] is said
to have more by way of ‘commensuratio’ about them than any other statues of his
generation. As with the Doryphoros so with Myron’s Discobolo, known only
through Roman copies, it is pretty difficult to hypothesise the exact system of
proportion that he uses. We detect the deployment of balanced opposites in the
composition. The creators of the doriforo and the discobolo share a common
regard for the live model that transcends the nature of the live model. Although
Polykleitos’ Canon and its physical embodiment, the original doriforo, are lost
– the most famous Roman copy was excavated ONLY AT THE END OF THE OTTOCENTO –
various literary sources handed over to the Renaissance the knowledge of them
and the classical principle that the beautiful model is based on proportion,
commensurability and mathematical perfection. This is the quest for the
beautiful model that is measured and defined within the premises of natural
philosophical mathematics. In the minds of commentators, the attribution of the
power of creation (poiesis) to the statue-maker likens him to a seer and affords
him a unique insight into his subject. It was said of Policleto that while his
skill is suitable for representing what Vico (and Carlyle) calls a ‘hero’
(Italian ‘eroe’ – cf. il culto dell’eroe), the imaginative power of Fidia –
author of the Parthenon’s sculptures, notably the Elgin marble of MARTE qua
simbolo della mascolinita – conjures a ‘deus’ (dio). His positive view of the
intuitive process of artistic creation (poiesis) becomes especially important
in Rome where copies of the great works of Greek classical sculpture are
reproduced in large numbers. ‘Re-produced’, that is, but not ‘re-plicated’ (cf.
replicatura). For no two copies are, by definition, ever exactly *the same*
(for one, the piece of marble is ‘another’). A Roman copyist, so-called, is,
mostly an ethnic [it. ennico] Greek. He probably saw his product as a variation
on a theme, or an improvisation (if not improvement) on the ‘original’, not a slavish
copy – plus, his Roman Mecenas couldn’t care less – connoisseurship was looked
own. A Roman vir has other things in mind, such as battle! It is through this
army of Roman copies that Italian artists acquire a fragmentary knowledge of
the proto-type (cf. Weber’s ideal type], the vast majority of which, in bronze,
as they should – for sculpting marble is different than moulding wax -- are
deliberately melted by Christians as blasphemous pagan, heathen, gods and
heroes. The spectre of the greatest mind of all antiquity, Plato, and his
condemnation of art always hover over the heads of artists and art lovers
alike. In the high empire of ancient Rome a neo-Platonist movement challenges Plato’s
extreme opinion and argues for the product of an ‘ars’ of being possessed of the
intellectually beautiful (even if first perceived through the senses – nihil
est in intellectu quod prior non fuerit in sensu. Plotino notes: ‘now it must
be noted that the wax [...] brought under a hand to a ‘beautiful’ ‘form’ or
‘shape’ (eidos, idea, morphe) is ‘beautiful’ not ‘he’ or qua wax – for so the
crude block would be as ‘pleasant’ or pleasurable or pleasing – but *qua* form,
eidos, shape, morphe, or idea. This practical and workable Aristotelian and
neo-Platonic rather than the Platonic philosophy of art was that adopted by most
Italians (even if they let Ficino dreamed about!). The paradoxical (feigned,
ironic, taunting) superiority of the product of an ‘ars’ art to nature – as a
selected, ideal, improved, correctio version of it (no ‘warts and all’) – has
been a central premise of the “beau ideal” where ‘beau’ can be in the Romance
languages both masculine and neuter (‘il bello’ – il bello ideale) in the humanistic
theory of art and especially in its neo-classical incarnation. A statue is admired
and enjoyed as the embodiment of a moral aesthetic that can be applied also to a
plaster cast. It serves both as the paradigm of art training and as source of
inspiration for artists for centuries. For an introduction to ancient
aesthetics and views on art, see Tatarkiewicz 1970; Pollitt 1974. Selections of
primary sources are included in Pollitt 1983; Pollitt 1990. The main source for
this famous sentence is Platone, Theaetetus 151e. See also Diogenes Laertius,
De Vitis ... philosophorum, 9.51. 3 Platone, Republic, 10, esp. 10.596E–597E. 4
Xenophon, Memorabilia, 3.10.1–5. 5 Aristotele, Poetica, 1448a1; Politica,
1340a33. See also Metafisica, 1.1, 981a. 6 Plinio, Naturalis Historia,
34.57–58. 7 Cicerone, Bruto, esp. 69–70, 296; Plinio, Naturalis Historia,
34.55; Galeno’s treatises, esp. De Placitis Hippocratis et Platonis, 5, and De
Temperamentis, 1.9; Quintiliano, Institutio Oratoria, esp. 5.12.21 and
12.10.3–9; Vitruvio’s De Architectura, 3.1. 8 Quintiliano, Institutio Oratoria,
12.10.3–9. 9 Plotino, Enneads, 5.8.1. 14 ‘Nature Plus-Quam-Perfected’: --
the ‘Drawn from the Antique’ at the Royal Academy. ‘Desegno dall’antico’,
‘desegno dalla natura’. In his inaugural lecture as Professor of Painting at
The Royal Academy of Arts in London, Opie arranged a few headings, which
included a general definition of painting, the imitation of Nature, the idea of
general beauty, the idea of general perfect beauty, the idea of perfect beauty
the true object of the highest style, as the aim of the highest style, design, drawing,
the most important part of painting, the uses of knowledge of anatomy, symmetry
and proportion the next in importance. great excellence of the *ancients*, the
ancient sculptor in those points; studying antique statuary to advantage, perfection
of the Art of painting under Vinci, Buonarroti, and Sanzio. Opie’s outline,
with its standardised categories, is a clear example of ‘inglese italianato e
un diavolo incarnato’ and a summary of a time-honoured aesthetic tradition
which indeed he is drawing from the antique! Opie’s proposal of what constitutes
‘the high style’ is a direct continuation of the humanistic theory of art, formulated
in early Renaissance Florence and expanded and modified in the succeeding
centuries, mainly in Italy. At the core of this tradition is the thesis that
art imitates nature and, in art’s highest manifestation, perfects nature by
selecting her best parts, to create (poien, design) a model of ideal beauty –
drawn from the antique -- a universal standard to which man aspires. Classical
statuary plays a crucial role in this theoretical framework. An antique statues
is perceived, and often revered, as works in which the process of this
selection of the best parts of nature is accomplished. An antique – and thus a
sketch ‘drawn from the antique’ -- offers the ‘antique’ (not natural live) model
from which the form, the pose, the gesture and the expression of a naked male is
appreciated, in its idealised anatomy and proportion. As the theory evolves
from the 16th century onwards, the three leading protagonists of the High
Renaissance, Vinci, Buonarroti and Sanzio – not mannerist Bernini, such as
Tasso is not in the canon as Ariosto is -- are placed on the same level as the antique,
as the first trio of non-antique or non-ancient (i. e. modern) artists – cf.
Hymns Ancient & Modern) whose statues equal, if not surpass, the antique
(but there was not ‘Drawn from Buonarroti!’). The humanistic theory of art
remains for centuries the philosophical aesthetics. It undergoes many
developments and was at times challenged. It is primarily through the medium of
‘desegno’, drawing, that one is educated in geometry and perspective – to learn
how to re-present space – and in anatomy and the male naked live model – to
learn how to deploy the naked male. ‘Drawn from the antique’ represents the
essential component of this educational method, initially as a convenient model
for the copying the male form, and then progressively as a bench-mark of
perfection whose appreciation one is supposed to assimilate before being
exposed to ‘fallible Nature’, embodied by the naked male LIVE model with all
its imperfections – the profession being underpayed and carried out by
Italians! – and this or that unnecessary feature – however necessary this
unnecessary feature is for the photographer of Antino, before he photoshops! In
its codified and pedantic rigidity, this Vitruvian categorization reveals that,
at the same time as they held theoretical sway, by the beginning of the 19th
century the tradition that he espoused had become increasingly stifling. At the
dawn of the Modern era, a system based on the principle that art is a rational
practice that can be taught by precepts resting on a fixed aesthetic is progressively
being dismantled by those who advocate subjectivity, individual expression and
the conceptual freedom required by inventive genius. Although the normative
principle of the humanistic theory of art remains solidly established within the
academic programme, the creative forces of art are increasingly to be found ‘outside
Plato’s Academy’. With this epochal shift of aesthetic values, classical
statuary, unsurprisingly, suffered most. Precisely because of its status as a
model and standard of perfection in academic curricula, it inevitably
encountered the indifference, if not open hostility, of Marinetti (if not
Mussolini) and those avant-garde Italian artists who did not believe in the
idealising role of art and, increasingly, not even in its imitative one. The
Antique, which sustains and inspires creativity and diversity in art, offering
an immense repertory of forms, expressions and aesthetic principles, loses its
propulsive drive. To understand the pervasive role the classical statue or statuary group plays
in the education and inspiration of artists in the Early Modern period, that is
from the 15th to the early 19th century, we return to the theoretical
foundations and the practical concerns that create and sustain the conditions
for its immense success and eventual decline. After the Middle Ages, in which
the visual arts had been essentially symbolic, aiming to represent the
metaphysical and the divine, in the early Renaissance focus shifts to an art
that, as in antiquity, aims at a convincing ‘imitation’ of the external world,
the world of Nature, with man at its centre. The primary concern of early
Renaissance artists and art theorists is to set a rational rule for the
faithful (or improved) representation of space and the human figure on a
two-dimensional surface, free-standing, in the round. In his “De Pictura”, Alberti
establishes the principle of art as an intellectual discipline, focusing on
geometry, mathematical perspective and the representation of the naked male. The
philosophical conviction that ‘man is the scale and measure of all things’ is applied
to space: Alberti’s choice of viewpoint and scale in the perspective diagrams is
based on the *height* of a well-formed male and the units into which he is divided.
This philosophical position also accepts that the main aim of the art of
statue-making is the depiction of a man’s action, emotion and deed, what
Alberti called “la storia”. Naturally, the study and drawing of the LIVE model
in a work-shop, and later of anatomy and classical statuary in a studio and an academy
or club, are essential for this purpose. Although Alberti’s approach, and even
the literary structure of De Pictura, is based on classical models and
examples, his conception of art is ‘naturalistic’. For Alberti, to become
skilled in the visual arts ‘the fundamental principle will be that all steps of
learning should be sought from nature’ (“dalla natura”, not “dall’antico”). Earlier,
more practical treatises, like Cennino Cennini’s Libro dell’Arte advocates the
study of a painting produced by a master, a practice that encourages repetition
and which could eventually lead to artistic sterility. Alberti accepts the
copying of two-dimensional works by other artists only because ‘they have
GREATER STABILITY OF APPEARANCE than the living, live, lively, model’, but he
privileges the drawing of a statue because, being life-*like* (cf. ‘natura
morta’), it does not impose just ONE viewpoint on its copyist, but infinite –
which makes ‘drawn from the antique’ a fascinating reflection on the
draughtsman, who seeks, say, for rear views!
Hence, while the practice of the early workshop often involved the
copying of three-dimensional models or drawings of such models, it is as a
preparation for life-study (“DRAWN FROM LIFE”) rather than an end in itself. This
is is not to ignore the impact of antique proto-types on artists, which was
enormous. One need only think of Donatello’s Ganimede who was responding to
antique models from very early in the Quattrocento. But from a theoretical
point of view, for Alberti, the emphasis is on the full mastery of the natural
forms (‘DRAWN FROM LIFE’) rather than on the imitation of other works of art,
even those from antiquity. The artist’s goal is to achieve an illusionistic
translation of the external world onto the flat surface of a drawing (‘DRAWN
FROM LIFE’) or into the volumes and masses of sculpture – as in Italian
statuary not based on the Antique: Michelangelo’s Bacco, Bernini’s Enea, etc.
-- Nevertheless, in Alberti we find the roots of two intertwined concepts, both
originating in classical sources, which progressively support and justify the
practice of copying as in ‘drawn from the antique’. The ultimate point is to
create a ‘beautiful’ naked male by selecting the most ‘excellent parts . . .
from the most beautiful naked males. Every effort should be made to perceive,
understand and express beauty. To substantiate this principle, Alberti recalls
the episode of the celebrated painter of antiquity -- depicted by Vasari in his
fresco at his own palazzo in Arezzo, ‘Zeusi compone Elena dalle fanciulle di
Crotona’-- the Italian Zeuxis, who, in order to create Elena, the image of
female perfection, selects the most beautiful maidens from the city of Crotona and
unfairly goes to choose the best part from each. This silly anecdote – sexist,
since the male equivalent would be unthinkable --, derives from ancient
literary sources, and becomes one of the most recurrent adaggi of the art
treatise in the following centuries. Zeuxis embodies and clearly explains the
idea of art as a form of ‘perfected nature’. The beautiful (‘il bello’, for
Italians hardly use ‘bellezza’, unless you are Sorrentino) is based on a system
of a harmonic proportion. For Alberti, in the perfect male the single part – the
two hands, the head, the two legs, he torso, the back, etc. – is related
numerically to the other parts and to the whole (il totto) in the principle of commensurability or
syn-metron, literally the measurability by a common standard. The overall
result is harmonic perfection (‘ Just look in my direction! Ain’t that
perfection!’) which Alberti defines as ‘concinnitas’, a theory that Alberti
bases on Vitruvio’s De Architectura. Pro-portion, which Alberti covers in depth
in his “De Statua” becomes a major subject of philosophical aesthetic
speculation. Vinci and Dürer produce in-depth studies, and Vinci’s ‘uomo
vitruviano’ is the perfect expression of the theory of the mathematical
conception of the naked male [Vinci, Gallerie dell’Academia, Venezia, inv. 228
– Le proporzione dei corpo umano secondo Vitruvio, metal point, pen and brown
ink with touches of wash, 344 x 245 mm c 1490] For Alberti, one selects the
best from nature and reassembles the selection according to a system of
harmonic proportion ultimately resting on the mathematical relation THAT IS
rationally inferred from Nature itself. This principle is the cornerstone of
aesthetics. Although the central textual foundation for the concept that ‘il
bello’ is based on proportion, Policleto’s Canon, had been lost, Renaissance
artists and scholars are well aware through Vitruvio and other classical
writers that ancient artist base his work on this principle. Therefore, from
the 16th century onwards, and especially in the following two centuries, the
crucial appeal that an antique statue had for artists rested not only in its
aesthetic quality and form, but also on the very fact that it embodied the
intellectual principle of proportional perfection. The rationalistic (indeed
illuministic) approach of the Canova’s French academy (when moulding the wax of
Napoleon in nudita eroica) even provides students with manuals in which the
numerical proportion of a statue is carefully laid out. This idea-guided naturalistic
attitude of art theory, which had in any case been greatly modified in High
Renaissance practice, shifts towards an even more idealistic (hyper-idealistic,
not romantic) approach and, simultaneously, a more systematic one, laying the
ground plan for the classicist theory. Because most art theoreticians consider
their era to be a period of artistic decadence and excess after the great
achievements of the High Renaissance, and also because many of them focus on
the codifying of a rule that may be imposed in the academy, the model of
perfection is increasingly deemed mandatory (Dolce, Lomazzo, Armenini), the antique
that they feel inspired and guided the ‘buona maniera’ of Buonarroti and Sanzio
(whom the pre-raphaelites hated), became the standard by which a fault (errore)
of Nature or this or that affectation (say, the length of necks in Modigliani)
is corrected. The ‘drawn from the antique’ takes a decisive lead over the ‘drawn
from life’ (DESEGNO DALLA VITA), and the construction of taste – the lure of
the antique that had lured the antiques themselves, such as Adriano! Correspondingly,
in the classicist tradition that develops in Rome – the headquarters of the
French Academy at Villa Medici -- the Antique (l’antico) becomes the essential
model for the composition. This, definable as the depiction of episodes based
on Roman mythology or Roman history, with a moral value attached, is considered
from Alberti the highest form and final aim and receives the place of honour in
the academic hierarchy of the genres. Although a naturalistic and
anti-classicist tendency remains alive even within the academic system,
classicism establishes itself as the predominant aesthetic principle, as Opie’s
inaugural lecture as Chair of Painting (but not Chair of Sculpture – since
that’s a whole different animal!) at the Royal Academy attests. Its success
rests primarily on the fact that it represents an aesthetic approach that is
considered to express a universal and a ‘true’ principle. And this, because of its
rational nature, can be taught by rule, which suits the systematic attitude of
Enlightenment culture. The proliferation of the academy encourages the
penetration of this set of values even within contexts and cultures that until
then had been only superficially exposed to it. The humanistic theory of art,
clothed in a new and codified form, eventually reaches the most remote corners
of the world, with the antique army as the herald. At the centre of the
education of any artist in the Renaissance was the practice of ‘disegno,’ drawing
or design, considered to be one of the essential foundations of art from
Cennini onwards. ‘Disegno,’ (dall’antico, dalla vita), endowed with an
intellectual role by Vasari and other
theorists, as the manifestation of the idea and invention of the artist, becomes
the essential quality of the Roman and Florentine academies. Successively, it
assumed a central role in the theory of European academies as the expression of
the rational common denominator of the three sister arts: painting, sculpture
and architecture. Opie, himself a poor draughtsman – hence his teaching of
‘disegno’ --, still considered ‘Design, or Drawing, the most important part of
Painting’. Drawing after the Antique, or Drawing from the Antique, as a union
of intellectual medium and intellectual end, becomes integral to the learning
process and the activity of artists, along with ‘Drawn from Life’. The academy
is depicted, the studio, an artists copying from some original or drawing from a
cast, in situ in, usually, Rome or back at home. Whether he is drawing from the
antique on paper to learn how to represent outlines and chiaroscuro – the
effects of light on three-dimensional forms – or to assemble a repertory of the
body’s form, pose and expression, or to assimilate a system of ‘correct’
proportions and anatomy, no would-be member of the academy can avoid
confronting the lessons of the Antique, and of adjusting his creative process
in relation to it. Apart from the didactic and inspirational functions of drawing
from the antique (as opposed as from life), many other reasons justified the
practice. As a result of their pervasiveness, a studio ‘drawin from the
antique’ (disegnato dall’antico’) – which are innumerable – are difficult to
categorise because they are produced for different reasons, serve different
purposes and display different conceptions and relations to the antique.
Nevertheless, one might attempt a division. There is the didactic ‘drawn from
the antique’: a copy produced his education as an a course assignment at the
Academy: a drawing produced by a master in a workshop to provide the apprentice
with an accessible repertory of classical forms to copy. There is RECORD drawing:
a sketch created to serve as inspiration for a form, a pose, am expressios, a composition,
a movement, a proportion, etc., for its own artistic purpose. There is translation,
a precisely finished drawings intended to be engraved, usually conveying as
much information as possible about the statue’s form and pose. There is documentary
drawings, produced with the purpose of recording accurately the physical
appearance of an antiquities obviously including any damage the statue may have
undergone. To this category belong many drawings produced specifically for the antiquarian
collector, from the “Codex Coburgensis” to those of the famous ‘Paper Museum’
assembled by Pozzo. There is the marketable
drawing: a finished copy specifically produced to be sold on the market or
commissioned by a collector to fill his ‘paper museum’ of classical
antiquities. Examples are those by Batoni for Richard Topham, Esq. – The Topham
Collection --. There is the promotional drawing, a drawing made with the
specific purpose of promoting the acquisition of an item (statue or statuary
group), such as those by Jenkins to Townley – The Townley Collection. Naturally,
as with any categorisation, these divisions are a simplification and a drawing
may overlap two or more classes, such as this or that drawing by Goltzius, intended
to be engraved, but which also function as a repertory of an antique forms to
be used in the artist’s practice. Whatever their categories, all these drawings
followed the technical evolution of the medium, from the predominant metalpoint
and pen-and-ink to the black and red chalk. Athough pen-and-ink remains a
favoured medium, chalk becomes the choice for FULL-SIZE statuary, as a softer,
more pliable medium it allows a more sophisticated rendering of a tonal passage
and, therefore, of relief and anatomu. Red chalk especially offers the impossibility
of bringing the ANTIQUE (antico) to LIFE (vita), transforming or
transubstantiating inorganic matter into ‘warm flesh’. In artists’ workshops
one of the most important aspects of an apprentice’s training, aside from
mastering the manual procedures of painting, is copying works by the master and
other artists. This is intended as a means to shorten the process of learning
how to represent the THREE-DIMENSIONS onto two thanks to examples already
produced by others. This practice is described by Cennini, although still
intended only to train the apprentice to reproduce the master’s style and not
yet Nature or Life. An aapprentices could resort to copying model books and
sketchbooks already assembled by the master or by others. These were
repertories of a drawing of an animal, a plant, decorative details, a male nude
at rest, a male nude in action, usually produced as teaching tools, and it is
in these collections on paper that we find the earliest surviving drawings
derived from classical antiquities. The Antique is included mainly as a source
of information on the anatomy, its form, modelling, pose, expression,
movementsand the interaction of all t hese elements. Most of the early
drawings that represent antique forms are produced by artists active in Rome
where the largest number of accessible physical remains from antiquity is
concentrated. AN ANCIENT FULL-SIZE STATUE IN THE ROUND may have survived above
ground. Among the most famous publicly displayed examples are the ANTONINO, or
pseudo-Constantine the Great. outside the Lateran Palace, the Spinario, and the
Camillo, both of which are moved from the Lateran to the Campidoglio by Sesto IV;
the Quirinal Horse Tamers, I DIOSCURI, and the two Quirinal Recubantes or
Rivers. Virtually no ancient painting is known, and its appearance was
conjectured from a description (ecphrasis) in a literary sources, notably
Pliny’s Naturalis Historia (esp. book XXXV). It was only with the exploration
at the end of the 15th century of the buried interiors of the Domus Aurea of
Nerone in Rome, known as grotte, that artists access ancient examples, and from
this time a wave of grotesque motifs and decorations spread widely. More
readily available is a sarcophagus relief or a large imperial relief. A drawing
may depict mainly this category of ancient artefacts. They are popular because,
with their complex, frieze-like narratives, it inspires the compostion of a
“storia” as Alberti notes. Among the most frequently represented are the
reliefs of sarcophagi and the imperial reliefs of Trajan’s Column and the
Arches of Titus and Constantine. The subjects preferred by late Gothic or early
Renaissance artists – Bacchic themes, Amazons, the story of Adone, marine
deities or ancient battles – demonstrate an interest in the nude and in the
depiction of movement, dynamism and strong expressions. Although it is recorded
that Donatello and Brunelleschi copy antiquities during their stay at Rome, no
drawings survive by either of them to reveal their approach to the Antique. The
earliest surviving drawings of an antique is by artists in the workshops of
Fabriano and Pisanello, when they were in Rome working for Martino V in St John
in Lateran. The drawings correspond in many ways to the paintings. They show
little awareness of the formal principle of classical art, transforming a figure
from a Roman sarcophagus relief into a Gothic type. They often re-interpret the
pose and, sin! -- proportion of the original, even, as in the case of a sheet of
a fantasia in the Louvre, assembling figures from different s arcophagi. This
process of extra-polation, isolation and modification is common to many
drawings from the Antique. The draughtsman creates a visual repertories of
single figures, or isolated groups of figures which are easy to re-use in their
own compositions. From a teaching point of view, an isolated figure is probably
considered, at least in the model books and sketchbooks, to be more readily
assimilable by the apprentice in the workshop than a whole composition. A good
example of such an approach is seen in a drawing attributed to the so-called
‘Anonymous of the Ambrosiana’, from a sketchbook made in Rome in The original
model is a celebrated sarcophagus relief of the Muses, Minerva and Apollo then
in the church of Santa Maria Maggiore. It was copied in drawings by several
later growing archaeological awareness, in parallel with the spread of
antiquarian studies and rising interest in the classical world and its physical
remains. On the other hand, artists display a free handling and more personal
approach to the original, as they move away from the restraints of the model
book. With the exception of Donatello, from whom he learned much, MANTEGNA is
the quattrocento artist who had the most complex and sophisticated relationship
to the antique. Mantegna’s approach is evident in the introduction of direct
quotations from ancient architecture, reliefs and sculptures in his paintings
and frescoes and in his adoption of a precise, highly sculptural painting
style. A drawing by MANTEGNA – or a copy after a drawing – executed during his stay
in Rome accurately renders a classical proto-type but with a vivacious freedom
in style. It represents one of the Trajanic reliefs inserted in the central
passage of the Arch of Constantine. MANTEGNA sketches it at an angle from the
right side and from below. He precisely records the relief’s damaged condition
by showing both the emperor and the helmeted soldier on the right without their
right hands. He interprets the composition freely, concentrating on the most
prominent actors and on the relief’s formal principle, specifically its
treatment of movement and emotion, qualities praised by Alberti as essential
for the construction of a “storia”. The flow from left to right is accentuated,
Trajan has windswept hair.The horse is shown galloping, less upright and
frontal. The mouths are wide open, as are those of the soldiers on the right,
expressing the intensity of emotion in the victory over the Dacians. A drawing
like this serves a two- fold purpose, as a study of a formal principle and a
record of antique costumes, armours, shields and helmets. Its organisational
lessons and visual references could then be re-used to demonstrate the artist’s
power of inventio and his erudite knowledge of the classical past, as Mantegna
indeed does at Mantova in his sequence of canvases of the Triumph of Caesars [Sarcophagus
of the Muses, with Apollo and Minerva, front, 2nd c. ad, marble,
Kunsthistorisches Museum, Antikensammlung, Vienna, inv. I 171. Andrea Mantegna,
or circle of, Drawing after the Relief on the Arch of Constantine, end of the
15th century – beginning of the 16th, black chalk with brown ink, 273 × 189 mm,
Albertina, Vienna, inv. 2583r. Workshop of Pisanello, Three Nude Figures from
Ancient Roman Sarcophagi, c. 1431–32, silver point, pen and brown ink on
vellum, 194 × 273 mm, Louvre, Paris, inv. 2397]. artists, including Lippi and Franco
and it was engraved by Raimondi. The Ambrosiana draughtsman reproduces only a
few figures, changing their position and disregarding their interrelations and
the background, no doubt with the intention of assembling a range of drapery
studies that could be re-used in the future. The artist selects primarily
figures that offered the greatest variety and movement of cascading robes,
leaving the nude Apollo in the bottom right corner unfinished. Two tendencies,
apparently opposed but both symptomatic of a more profound understanding of the
antique, gains ground in sketchbooks and loose drawings. On one hand there was
a [Anonymous of the Ambrosiana, Figures from an ancient Roman Muses Sarcophagus,
c. 1460, metal point, pen and brown ink, heightened in white, on pink prepared
paper, 310 × 200 mm, Biblioteca Ambrosiana, Milan, inv. F. 214 inf.] A similar
evolution is seen in drawings that reproduce FREE-STANDING classical statuary.
Not surprisingly, all are after the most famous statues then visible in Rome
which, given their size and anatomical detailing, were an invaluable source for
the study of the male body. The earliest examples are again a group of drawings
by Pisanello. They represent, among other figures, the ANTONINO and one of the
two Horse Tamers or Dioscuri on the Quirinal Hill. The latter is especially
relevant for our purpose, as the Dioscuri constitute the two most complete
free-standing nude in Rome. Both Dioscuri are copied repeatedly, praised by
contemporary written sources, and [Trajan overpowering Barbarians, Roman, c.
117 ad, marble, Arch of Constantine, central arch, north façade, Rome remained
constant sources of inspiration for artists into the 19th century. In a drawing
of one of the Dioscuri, the draughtsman isolates the sculpture from its
context, and focuses exclusively on rendering the anatomy. The cloak on the
forearm is just outlined. Although it is an impressive achievement and while
the male nude is realised much more plausibly than those figures taken from
sarcophagus reliefs, the ELONGATION and SLIMMING
of the figure and the inaccurate rendering of the idealised anatomy betrays a Gothic
mindset. The same DIOSCURO is copied in a drawing by Gozzoli [ Equestrian
Statue of Marcus Aurelius, Roman, 161–180 ad, bronze, 424 cm (h), Capitoline
Museums, Rome, inv. MC3247. Workshop of Pisanello, Marcus Aurelius, c. 1431–32,
pen, brown ink and wash heightened in white on brown-orange prepared paper, 196
× 156 mm, CASTELLO SFORZESCO, Civico Gabinetto dei Disegni, Milan, inv. B 878
SC. One of the Two Dioscuri or Horse Tamers, Roman copy of the 2nd century ad,
after a Greek original of the 5th century bc, marble, 528 cm, Quirinal Square,
Rome] Pollaiuolo. Many are modelled on an ancient proto-type, like those being
handled and studied by the artists at Bandinelli’s academy. But ‘DISEGNO DALLA VITA’
from a posed apprentice is also widely practised and becomes increasingly
common in the final decades, especially in Florence. Another drawing by Gozzoli’s
circle shows the practice of setting a male naked LIVE MODEL in the pose of
(apres, after) “l’antico” – a contradiction: DISEGNO DALLA VITA E DALL’ANTICO. In
this case the obvious reference is the Spinario, the celebrated bronze antique
figure whose complex pose remains one of the most popular for a live model. The
use of the model book as a teaching tool disappeared but sketchbooks and the travel
book reproducing antiquities became more widespread. Their progressive
diffusion is one of the clearest indications of the spread of interest in the antique
and goes hand-in-hand with the formation of collections of antiquities and the
pursuit of antiquarian studies, such as Biondo’s influential “Roma Instaurata”,
a methodical guide to the monuments of Rome. Enthusiasm for classical art and a
more attentive study of its forms and principles is reflected in the increased
dynamism, pathos and complexity of the compositions that we can see in Italian
painting and sculpture in the work of Florentine artists like Pollaiolo,
Ghirlandaio and Lippi [Workshop of Benozzo Gozzoli, A Nude Young Man Seated on
a Block, His Right Foot Crossed over His Left Leg, c. 1460, metalpoint, over
stylus indications, grey-brown wash, heightened with white, on pink-purple
prepared paper, 226 × 150 mm, The British Museum, Department of Prints and
Drawings, London, inv. Pp, 1.7] probably executed when he was in Rome to assist
Fra Angelico in the St Nicholas Chapel in the Vatican Palace]. In this case the
drawing is again far from accurate, and the draughtsman combines the Dioscuro
with the horse held by his twin. Again the forms are isolated. As in the
earlier drawing the supporting cuirass and the strut between the right arm and
thigh are omitted as is the cloak on the forearm. The group is set against a
neutral backdrop and on the ground rather than on its pedestal. Although the
Dioscuro stands firmly, and although his anatomical structure, his surface
musculature and their modelling are rendered much more convincingly than in the
Pisanello drawing, the idealisation of the male is still not emphasised and we seem
to be looking at a real MALE taming his horse rather than at a heroic marble
statue. Although it is difficult to draw general conclusions based on such
exiguous surviving material, it seems safe to say that formost 15th-century
artists, classical free-standing statuary was seen as a model for the nude male,
its poses and movements. With notable exceptions, such as Donatello, artists
did not try to grasp the anatomical and formal principle of the original nor does
he aspire to recreate the process of idealisation innate in so many classical
nudes. For this reason, the drawings are often not immediately recognisable as
copies after the Antique (‘drawn from the antique’). The Antique could also be
copied inside the workshop using SMALL-SCALE three-dimensional models. We have
plenty of evidence about collections of antique statues, often fragments, and
the ownership of plaster casts by artists. Their presence in the work-shop is also
acknowledged in “De Sculptura” by Gaurico, who speaks of artists having
cabinets ‘filled with any sort of sculptures’ and ‘chests filled with casts’. Although
a cast may OBVIOUSLY BE TAKEN from a male naked live model, as described by
Cennini, others are ‘cast from the antique’, such as those mentioned by
Ghiberti and Squarcione, the teacher of Mantegna, whose workshop at Padova
contained a collection of antiquities. Casts and antiquities are part of the
working material of the bottega. They also serve to elevate the status of the
workshop to that of a STUDIO or STUDIUM, a place of cultivation of liberal
arts, the beginning of that process of the intellectual emancipation of the
artist that would be fully developed with the foundation of the academies. A
beautiful drawing of feet, part of a sketchbook by Gozzoli eloquently shows the
use of casts, in this case most likely taken from antique fragments, as
teaching tools in the bottega. We see here one of the earliest visual records
of a [Spinario, Roman, 1st century bc, bronze, 73 cm (h), Capitoline Museums,
Rome, inv. MC1186. Pisanello, or circle of, One of the Two Dioscuri or Horse
Tamers, c. 1431–32, silverpoint, pen and brown ink on vellum, 230 × 360 mm,
Biblioteca Ambrosiana, Milan, inv. F. 214 inf.10v. Benozzo Gozzoli (attr.), One
of the Two Dioscuri or Horse Tamers, c. 1447–49, metalpoint, grey-black wash,
heightened with lead white, on blue prepared paper, 359 × 246 mm, The British
Museum, Department of Prints and Drawings, London, inv. Pp, 1.18. Workshop of
Benozzo Gozzoli, Studies of Plaster Casts of Feet, c. 1460, silverpoint
heightened with white, on green prepared paper, 225 × 155 mm, Museum Boijmans
Van Beuningen, Rotterdam, Benozzo Gozzoli Sketchbook, fol. 53] practice,
copying from a cast, that would expand exponentially. For the study of the naked
male and the three-dimensional form, a pupil could rely also on small models in
wax, CLAY, or bronze, provided by such sculptors as Ghiberti or Sanzio, Buonarroti,
and Rome as the Centre of the Study of the Antique. The following generation,
that of Buonarroti and Sanzio, sees a seismic shift in the approach to the antique.
They now attempted to equal or even surpass the antique by penetrating its
principles.The two titans of the High Renaissance had a radically different
approach towards the classical naked male form, but they both aime at assimilating
the ancient ‘mimetic’ or imitative standard of an idealised naturalism, full
mastery of the naked male, its anatomy and proportions, and the convincing
rendering of the EMOTION or EX-pression (or affect) of the soul. Vinci expresses
a deep interest in the Antique and is directly exposed to it in Florence
and in Rome. The classical naked male form is referenced in many of his works,
particularly in the unrealised project for an equestrian statue of Francesco
Sforza in Milan. But Vinci’s naturalism, based on empirical observation, means
that he always checks his ancient sources against the scientific observation of
the natural world. He remains a naturalist at heart, famously stating that ‘he who
copies a copy is Nature’s grandchild when he may been her son’. On the other
hand, from a practical point of view, Vinci also acknowledges the usefulness of
copying from a ‘good master’ and sculpture. While for Vinci the Antique remains
an interest secondary to Nature, Sanzio’s and Buonarroti’s engagement with the
antique is on an unprecedented level. The immense impact that Sanzio and
Buonarroti have on their own generation and on Western art in the centuries
that followed lies in the very fact that they are perceived and celebrated as
the first modern masters who had equalled, if not surpassed, the ancients. Opie,
lecturing on painting at the Royal Academy, proclaims the ‘perfection of the
Arts under Leonardo da Vinci, Michael Angelo, and Raffaelle’, but their status
as modern classics was already acknowledged during their lifetime. Bembo
elevates Buonarroti and Sanzio to the same pedestal of the ‘ancient good
masters’ and Vasari sustains his uncompromising panegyric of Buonarroti by
affirming that his Davide (Galleria dell’Accademia, Florence) surpasses in
beauty and measure even the best ancient monumental sculptures of Rome, in
particular the various Rivers and the Horse Tamers on the Quirinal. The Mondern,
now capable of providing an idealised nude more convincing than the most famous
surviving classical ones, outshines the Ancient. Artists of Sanzio’s and
Buonarroti’s generation have the advantage of benefiting from more, and more
readily available, ancient statuary, including those discovered in excavations
and those displayed in relatively accessible settings. However, both Vinci and
Buonarroti must already have been exposed to drawings, casts and models after
the Antique respectively in the workshops of Verrocchio and Ghirlandaio. Both
studied (although Vinci briefly) in the Giardino di San Marco, an informal
academy set up by Lorenzo il Magnifico to train artists specifically in drawing
and copying after the antique under the supervision of the sculptor Giovanni. Vasari
informs us that Buonarroti devoted himself obsessively to the task, and Condivi,
Buonarroti’ss biographer, emphatically states that the genius ‘having savoured
their beauty [...] never again goes to Ghirlandaio’s workshop or anywhere else,
but there he would stay all day, always doing something, as in the best school
for such studies’ As a pupil Sanzio probably did not receive a similar training
in the workshop of Perugino, who had less interest in the Antique. But some
drawings with reference to classical models survive and he certainly
participates in the sophisticated antiquarian environment in Florence, where he
moves. It is the impact of what Buonarroti and Sanzio see in Rome, where they
both moved that has the most far-reaching and radical impact on the evolution
of their art and their relationship with the anqique. Under the pontificates of
Rovere (Giulio II and Leone X, Rome establishes herself as the centre for the
study of the Antique. Many of the most celebrated collections of antiquities – Medici,
Farnese, Borghese, Ludovisi, Albani -- are formed or consolidated, such as
those of Riario, Maffei, and Della Valle
and later on the Cesi and the Sassi. The collection of antiquities at
the Campidoglio is enlarged with the transfer of the statues of the Rivers, the
Nile and the Tiber from the Quirinal and the Antonino from the Lateran, the
latter a statue so important for the symbolic imagery of Rome that Buonarroti
designs a square around it. However, the real centre of attention in the early
years of Buonarroti and Sanzio in Rome are the new discoveries emerging from
the soil of the city. Within a few years some of the statues that would attract
the attention of artists and connoisseurs for centuries to come are discovered,
[Anonymous engraver after Maarten van Heemskerck, The Antique Courtyard of the
Palazzo Della Valle, 1553, engraving, 289 × 416 mm, Rijksmuseum, inv.
RP-P-1996-38] provoking enormous enthusiasm among contemporaries: the Apollo del
Belvedere, the Laoconte, the Cleopatra, the Ercole Commodo, and the large
rivers Tevere and Nilo. By 1512 all could be admired, with the addition of the
Venere Felice in the Cortile Ottogono del casino della Villa del Belvedere nel
Monte Vaticano, a purpose-built space commissioned by Giulio II from Bramante,
the great interpreter of ancient Roman architecture. The Cortile, displaying
some of the most complete and prestigious sculptures from antiquity, soon
became the canonical Roman site for making a copy ‘drawn from the antique’. It
retains its unparalleled prestige, as the many drawings after its statues
eloquently attest. It is invaluable, as the Cortile del Belvedere offers them
the opportunity to study different male forms and positions and different sub-types
of ideal beauty at the same time: moving from the Apollo, to the strong and pronounced
muscular anatomy of Ercole Commodo. Two more statues are added to the
Courtyard: the Antino del Belvedere and the Torso del Belvedere. The Antino del
Belvedere is to become the canonical model for artists for the perfect
proportions of the naked male body. The Torso del Belvedere becomes one of the
most copied of all antiquities, a compulsory reference for the body of the
muscular male at rest, especially because of Buonarroti’s admiration for it and
the popular belief that he gives instructions to leave it unrestored. The
master’s praise of the evocative fragment became a leitmotif in artistic
treatises and literary sources to the point that it [Fig. 17. Hieronymous Cock
after Anonymous Draughtsman, The Capitoline Hill, 1562, etching and engraving,
155 × 212 mm, Metropolitan Museum, New York, inv. 2012.136.358] became known in
18th-century Britain as the ‘School of Michelangelo’. The Cortile del Belvedere,
the Campidoglio, and the collections in the various palazzi: Palazzo della
Valle and others, remain the privileged centres for copying the Antique in Rome.
The increasing number of accessible classical statues makes Rome a pole of
attraction, to congregate and to complete one’s education and gather on paper a
repertory of classical forms and motifs. This was a phenomenon central to the
development of art. It is evocatively
described by Bembo. Under Giulio II and Leone X both Buonarroti and Sanzio are
at the centre of the antiquarian debate and, as Bembo puts it, play an
essential role in their efforts to emulate and surpass the antique (they fail).
Indeed Vasari attributes the rise of the ‘bella maniera’, and the great
achievements of Sanzio and Buonarroti, to their familiarity and exposure to the
Belvedere statues. Even if Vasari’s words are a retrospective celebration aimed
at establishing the primacy of the Florentine and Roman schools, the spirit of
classical art permeates much of Buonarroti’s and Sanzio’s Roman production and
specific antique proto-types are evoked in many of their works. One need only
think of the inspiration Buonarroti derives from the Torso del Belvedere for
his Ignudi in the Sistine Chapel. Given their familiarity with classical
antiquity, it may seem strange therefore that very few drawings after classical
statuary by either Buonarroti or Sanzio survive. Many might have been
intentionally destroyed. Vasari recounts Buonarroti’s burning large numbers of
drawings, sketches [Fig. 18. Apollo del Belvedere, Roman copy of
the Hadrianic period (117–138 ad) after a Greek original of the 4th century bc,
marble, 224 cm (h), Vatican Museums, Rome inv. 1015 Laocoön, possibly a Roman
copy of the 1st century ad after a Greek original of the 2nd century bc,
marble, 242 cm (h), Vatican Museums, Rome, inv. 1064. Cleopatra, Roman copy of
the Hadrianic period (117–138 ad) after a Greek original of the 2nd century bc,
marble, 162 (h), Vatican Museums, Rome, inv. 548] and cartoons so that none
could see the efforts of his creative process. Nonetheless, in the few
surviving drawings which bear direct references to classical models, one sees
their tendency towards ‘assimilating’ the spirit of antique forms rather than *slavishly*
copying them (as an amanuensis would). This attitude can be shown by comparing
a drawing by Aspertini after the Belvedere Cleopatra with one by Sanzio derived
from the same statue. Aspertini’s copy, paired on the facing page with one from
a relief from the Arch of Constantine, embodies the attitude typically seen in
a sketch- book: a more or less faithful rendering of the antique form, in this
case rather finished and accurate, that serves as a record. Sanzio’s drawing
represents a more evolved phase, when the ancient form takes a new shape: the
elegant and difficult pose of the body of the Cleopatra and the play of the
drapery over her intertwined [Aspertini, The Sleeping Cleopatra and a Relief
from Trajan’s Column, (verso) post 1496, pen and brown ink, over black chalk,
on two sheets conjoined, 254 × 423 mm, The British Museum, Department of Prints
and Drawings, London, Sanzio, Figure in the Pose of the Sleeping Cleopatra, c.
1509, pen and brown ink, 244 × 217 mm, Albertina, Vienna, inv. 219. Sanzio, The
Muse Calliope, detail from the Parnassus, c. 1509–10, fresco, Stanza della
Segnatura, Vatican Palace, Rome] legs are used as an inspiration for the muse
Calliope in his Vatican Parnassus. Sanzio nevertheless also produces some
‘record’ drawings. Nominated by Leo X as inspector of all the antiquities in
and around Rome and embarked on a project to reconstruct the aspect of ancient
Roman buildings based on precise architectural surveys of their remains. His method,
based on a precise analysis paired with ancient literary sources, remains
unmatched. His scholarly attitude towards classical art and his thorough
understanding of it are clearly expressed in a famous letter that he wrote to
Leo X with the help of the courtier Castiglione in which he appeals against the
destruction of classical monuments. At the same time, he provides an
outstandingly accurate description of the different styles of ancient sculpture
found on the Arch of Constantine. One of the very few surviving exact copies of
classical statues in Sanzio’s hand is indicative of his precise, almost [Hendrik
III Van Cleve, Detail from View of Rome from the Belvedere of Innocent VIII,
1550, oil on panel, 55.5 × 101.5 cm, Musées Royaux des Beaux-Arts de Belgique,
Brussels, inv. 6904. Pseudo-Antino del Belvedere, Roman copy of the Hadrianic
period (117–138 ad) after a Greek original of the 4th century bc, marble, 195
cm (h), Vatican Museums, Rome, inv. 907. Belvedere Torso, Greek or Roman, 1st
century bc, marble, 159 cm (h), Vatican Museums, Rome, inv. 1192] archaeological
approach to the Antique, and we can assume that he produced similar ones during
his period as inspector of Roman antiquities. It is a clear rendering of one of
the two horses from the Horse Tamers on the Quirinal, that we encountered in
Gozzoli’s study. There could not be a better comparison to demonstrate the
progress made in the understanding of classical statuary. Sanzio’s drawing is
‘scientific’. We clearly recognise that the horse is a piece of marble
sculpture, with a faithful record of its missing left leg and the joint between
the neck and the body. The horse is COPIED, i. e. DRAWN AT EYE LEVEL (Sanzio presumably
stood on a platform) and not seen from below, as in most other contemporary
views. This allows the proper study of the proportion of the sculpture, in a
way similar to an architectural elevation. Outstandingly, even the measurements
of the statue are recorded on the drawing, probably by one of his pupils,
making this the first surviving measured drawing of a classical statue. Incidentally
Sanzio’s drawing also shows the introduction of a new medium – red chalk –
which would become one of the preferred tools for drawing after the Antique. It
is likely, nevertheless, that Sanzio generally left making such specific
records of classical sculptures to the pupils of his large workshop, as several
surviving drawings in the hand of Romano and Polidoro da Caravaggio, among
others, attest. Some of these were probably intended to be engraved, as it is
in Sanzio's circle that we find the first printed images of celebrated statues
and reliefs, such as those of Raimondi, Marco [Sanzio The Right Horse of the
Horse Tamers on the Quirinal Hill, c. 1513, red chalk and pen and brown ink
over indentations with the stylus, 219 × 275 mm, National Gallery of Art,
Washington D.C., inv. 1993.51.3.a, Woodner Collection. Buonarroti, Study of an
Antique Torso of Venus, c. 1524, black chalk, 256 × 180 mm, The British Museum,
Departments of Prints and Drawings, London, inv. 1859,0625.570. Buonarroti, A
Youth beckoning; A Right Leg, c. 1504–05, pen and brown ink, black chalk, 375 ×
230 mm, The British Museum, Departments of Prints and Drawings, London, inv.
1887,0502.117. Romano (attr.), Apollo del Belvedere, c. 1513–15, pen and brown
ink, pencil, 316 × 155 mm, Albertina, Vienna, inv. 22449. Veneziano, Apollo
Belvedere, engraving, c. 1518–20, 269 × 169 mm, private collection. Dente and
Agostino Veneziano (c. 1490–after 1536; fig. 29). The print medium, which plays
a crucial role in disseminating the knowledge of the Antique is to be
increasingly used in work-shops and academies for training. One first copies
the Antique from a flat image, before turning to the third dimension of a cast or
an original. Sanzio’s approach towards the Antique, based on study,
measurement, reconstruction and dissemination, cannot be more distant from that
of Buonarroti, who constantly confronts the classical models with a challenging
spirit. Several anecdotes reported by contemporaries reveal his approach
towards antiquity. Boissard informs us that shortly after having seen the Laooconte
emerging from the ground of the Esquiline, Buonarroti enthusiastically comments
that it is ‘a singular miracle of art in which we should grasp the divine
genius of the sculptor rather than trying to make an imitation of it’.This
quotation is poignant for understanding the Platonic concept of divine
inspiration for Buonarroti. At the same time it shows clearly that his
relationship with the antique model was not based on a process of imitation but
rather on that of ‘aemulatio,’ a creative rivalry possible only after the
assimilation and internalisation of its principle. This approach is reinforced
in a celebrated passage from Vasari which became a recurrent leitmotif in
subsequent art literature – in which he reports that Buonarroti creates figures
of nine, ten or even twelve heads high, searching only for the overall grace in
the artistic creation, because in matter of the proportion, ‘it is necessary to
have the compass in the eyes and not in the hand, because the hands *work* and
the eyes *judge*’. Advocating the principle of grace, consistency of artistic
creation, and the artist’s own judgement, Buonarroti therefore disregards the
canon of *eight* heads comprising the male figure established by Vitruvio,
implicitly expressing a relation with the classical proto-type based on empathy
and intimate understanding of its form, rather than on a rational adherence to a
rule based on a number– an approach he replicates in his architecture. Buonarroti’s
surviving copies after classical statues can be counted on one hand, such as a
series of reproducing the torso of an antique Venus, probably made in
preparation for one of the female figures in the Medici Chapel. His free
relationship with the Antique emerges from many of his drawings, for instance
the Beckoning Youth, loosely inspired by the Apollo del Belvedere. Buonarroti evokes
the pose and aspect of the celebrated statue, but turns it into something new,
where the hint of movement of the original is dramatically accentuated and
balance is replaced by unstable dynamism. Sanzio and Buonarroti have been
discussed at length because their different attitudes towards classical forms
resurface constantly in Art. This polarity may be defined as assimilating the
principles of the Antique by sticking to its rules and system of proportions OR
assimilating the creative spirit of the Antique by breaking its rules. At the
risk of oversimplification we could argue that Reni and Poussin fall within the
first sphere and Rubens and Bernini in the second. It is not by chance that the
classicist credo that permeates the Italian and French academies for most of
their history elects *Sanzio* as their champion, while the eccentric and unruly
Buonarroti remains a figure more difficult to celebrate from a didactic point
of view. The Antique in Theory plays a Role in the Academic ‘Alphabet of
Drawing’. More statues emerge from the soil of Rome and those already
discovered are given new life and integrity by partial or full ‘restoration’. A
statue is usually unearthed in fragmentary states, as can be seen from the
evocative drawings of Roman collections by Heemskerck. Whether philologically
correct or not, the practice of restoration allows one to copy the naked male in
its entirety rather than in mutilated fragments. Celebrated restorations
included those of the Apollo del Belvedere and the Laooconte by MONTORSI on the
recommendation of Buonarroti. Among the excavated statues three must be
mentioned as they immediately became constant references for artists. The place
of honour goes to the Ercole Farnese. It provides an ideal model for the
muscular male at rest and copies after it become ubiquitous in artists’
work-shops and academies. The other two statues are discovered together in and
immediately entered the collection of the Villa Medici in Rome: I LOTTATORI,
representing two males in a complexly interlocked ‘syntagma’ or group.
I LOTTATORI are used often in later academies as a source for posing TWO LIVE
MODELS – SYNTAGMA DISEGNATO DALLA VITA (see cats 16 and 27b); and the Niobe Group
whose suffering expressions would be widely referenced as a source for drama
and pathos, for instance by Reni, among others. In time, a standard set of
ideal types (to use Weber’s term) begins to take shape, thanks to the diffusion
of bronze and plaster casts and, especially, of prints. After the loose sheets
of Raimondi, Dente and Veneziano, more systematic enterprises are launched.
Collections such as SPECVLVM ROMANÆ MAGNIFICENTIÆ by Lafréry or ANTIQVARVM STATVARVM URBIS ROMAE by
Cavalieri, play a crucial role in the wide dissemination of a canonical
selection of classical statues, thus attracting more and more artists to Rome
to study the originals. This tendency towards codification also affects the
relationship of artists and art writers with the Antique, as the imitation of
classical statuary is given theoretical underpinning. At the same time the
Antique acquires a clear role within the curricula of the emerging academies as
a teaching tool, systemising a practice that, as we have seen, is already
widely diffused within Renaissance workshops. Art theory in general goes
through a process of radical systematization. Many artists and writers feel that
rules are required to give ‘ars’ an intellectual frame-work that would lift its
status from ‘mechanical’ to ‘liberal’ arts – (as in M. A. Magister in Arts, MA
before DPhil Lit Hum) an ambition dating back to the writings of Alberti. Most
theoreticians and artists believe that a codified precept is also vital to inculcating
the ‘correct’ principle in an age that they considered to be one of artistic
corruption. Armenini speaks explicitly of the ‘pain’ that masters like Sanzio
and Buonarroti would have felt in seeing the art of his own time. And Armenini,
Lomazzo, Zuccaro and others, notwithstanding differences among them, consider
that the rule can be inferred from study of the best examples of the great
Renaissance masters and those of antiquity. The latter especially, it was
thought, would provide with correct proportions and anatomy and inculcate the ideal
standard. A foundation of this theoretical effort is provided by the
assimilation of Artistotle’s Poetica, the first reliable Latin translation of
which circulated widely. Since no comprehensive treatise on painting had [Cavalieri,
The Laocoön, engraving plate 4, from Antiquarum statuarum urbis Romae, Rome,
1585] readily found in his work. For him the best ancient sculptures embodied
the supreme quality of ‘grazia’, which cannot be attained by study but only by
judgement – a concept that remains one of the central tenets of Italian art
theory. Vasari’s Lives also proclaims the superiority of the Central Italian
School of painting, based on ‘disegno’ to the Venetian one, based on ‘colore’,
initiating a debate over the respective merits of the two traditions. Although
traditionally the Venetians aim at imitating nature directly on the canvas
through colour and therefore are less attached to the laborious practice of
drawing after the antique, classical statuary plays a role in the formation of
many Venetian painters, and casts are used in their workshops. Tintoretto, for
instance, owns a large collection of casts and reductions of ancient and modern
sculptures. The importance attached to the study of the Antique by all the
Italian schools of painting is shown by the fact that one of the very first
consistent formulations of the principle of the ‘imitation’ of classical
statuary is to be found in Dolce’s “Dialogo della pittura.” Dolce’s “Dialogo
della pittura” contains the strongest defence of the Venetian tradition against
the Vasarian point of view. It also contains, if not fully developed, most of
the fundamental elements of the artistic theory. Dolce clearly specifies that
in the search for the perfect proportion of the naked male, the artist should ‘*partly*
imitate nature’ and partly ‘the best marbles and bronzes of the antient [sic]
masters’, because through them he can ‘correct’ this or that defects of this or
that living form – the live model -- as they are ‘examples of perfect beauty’, an
ideal version of Nature. But in Dolce we find also a warning against regarding
the copying of ancient sculpture as an end in itself rather than the means by
which an artist creates his own ideal artistic forms – something already
stressed by Vasari in his Lives. An ancient statue is to be ‘imitated’ with
‘judgement’, to avoid turning a pleasing trait into a formula or, worse, an eccentricity.
This warning would be repeated frequently, notably, y Rubens and Bernini and it
could lead to open opposition to copying the Antique. Similar advice appears in
Armenini’s Veri Precetti della Pittura. Armenini’s “VERI PRECETTI DELLA
PITTURA” is quite systematic and offers one of the most articulated approaches
towards the role of the Antique in the artist’s education. Many of Armenini’s ideas
and much of his advice would becomes standard practice. In the chapter on
‘disegno’, Armenini states that to acquire the ‘bella’ or ‘buona
[The Farnese Hercules, Roman copy of the 3rd century ad of a Greek
original of the 4th century bc, marble, 317 cm (h), MUSEO ARCHEOLOGICO
NAZIONALE, Napoli, inv. 6001. I
LOTTATORI. Roman copy of a Greek original of the 3rd century bc, marble, 89 cm
(h), Uffizi, Firenze, inv. 216. The Niobe, possibly Roman copy of a Greek
original of the 4th century bc, marble, 228 cm (h), Uffizi, Firenze, inv. 294] survived
from antiquity, the Poetics, together with Orazio’s Ars Poetica, offer a
theoretical structure that could be transferred from the literary disciplines
to visual art – justified by Orazio’s celebrated motto ‘ut pictura poesis’, ‘as
is painting so is poetry’. More relevant from our perspective, Aristotle’s
Poetica provides, in several passages, an authoritative ancient source for the
principle that art may ‘perfect’ nature to create an ideal model – a concept
implied but never clearly defined by Alberti – and which constituted one of the
most solid bases for the classicist doctrine of art. This Aristotelian trend
had a counter-balance in a neo-Platonic tendency in which ideal beauty does not
derive from Nature but is infused in the mind of the artist by God, two
approaches that at times were combined by the same author, such as Lomazzo or
Zuccaro. But whether of Aristotelian or Platonic origins, or indeed a
combination of both, the principle of imitation of those works of art that had
already accomplished idealisation – particularly the antique statue – becomes one
of the leitmotifs of Italian art theory (v. Dorfles, “Natura e Artificio”). The
most important writer on art of the Renaissance, Vasari, firmly establishes the
primacy of disegno, design or drawing, as the intellectual part of art, the
‘parent’ of the three sister arts of architecture, sculpture and painting. In
his Lives of the Most Eminent Painters, Sculptors and Architects drawing is described
as the physical, sensible manifestation EX-pression of an idea, encompassing
‘all the objects in nature’. Although he does not provide a theoretical case
for drawing after the Antique, nonetheless passages referring to the impact
that classical statues have on artists are maniera’ of the great
Renaissance masters, the student needs fully to assimilate through drawing
those principles of the ancient statues that those Renaissance masters
themselves copy, as they embody the best of Nature. Armenini’s importance lies
also in the fact that he is the first to list the specific statues and reliefs to
copy and to praise the didactic use of plaster casts, of which he saw many
collections throughout Italy – testifying to a practice that must already have
been quite widespread. The imitation of the Antique also becomes a central
tenet of the earliest art academies. Deriving their name from the ancient
philosophical Academy (Hekademos) of Plato, an ‘accademia’ is intended as a venue
for the cultivation of the practical, but even more, the intellectual aspects
of art. Its role is conceived in parallel and not in opposition to the artist’s
workshop, where the apprentices is still supposed to learn art’s technical
rudiments. One of the first mentions of the word ‘accademia’ in conjunction
with art is found in the first object shown in this catalogue, the Accademia del
Belvedere run by BANDINELLI eengraved by Veneziano. This depicts an ‘accademia’
centred on disegno set up in the Belvedere, where Leo X gives him quarters. It
shows artists learning how to draw the naked male and it is significant that
the focus of their attention is a series of statuettes modelled after a classical
proto-type. This, and the later view of Bandinelli’s Florentine Academy, are
the very first examples of an iconographical genre: the image of an accademia,
workshop, studio, often created with a programmatic or didactic purpose,
showing pupils learning the different branches of art or going through
different stages in their education. Just glancing at the works illustrated in the
catalogue shows how the presence of the Antique becomes progressively relevant.
The centrality of disegno and the naked male is firmly stressed by the
institutional, more organised, ‘accademia’.. The first, and a model for all
future academies, was the aptly named ‘Accademia del Disegno,’ – or ‘dei
disegnanti’ -- founded in Florence by Cosimo de’ Medici on the initiative of
Vasari. Its aim is to emancipate the artist from guild control, and to affirm
the intellectual status of the art.The two most significant academies that followed
before the are ‘Gl’Incamminati’, or ‘Accademia degl’incamminati, founded in
Bologna by the three Carraccis, and the Accademia di San Luca in Rome,
relaunched and given a didactic curriculum under Zuccaro. These academies –
although there were significant differences among them, and often huge
discrepancies between the theory they supported and the everyday teaching they
practised – proposes a system that could give a broad education to aspiring
artists. This usually included the study of mathematics, geometry and
perspective, to teach the student how to represent space rationally; and of
anatomy, the antique and the live model, -- DISEGNO DALL’ANTICO, DISEGNO DALLA
VITA -- to teach him to master the correct depiction of the naked male. We can
see an idealised version of early academic practices in a complex and
fascinating drawing by Stradano,
engraved by Cort, where the stress is on anatomy, the Antique and on the three
arts of disegno. Similar practices are illustrated in an etching by Alberti
showing a structured curriculum of studies involving anatomical dissection,
geometry, the Antique and architectural drawing. These studies codify artistic
exercises (and give a bad name to ‘academic’) that had been current from the
early Renaissance onwards but important new teaching structures were
introduced. These include a rotating academic staff, a competition and a prize,
and an organised debate on artistic questions and they are supported especially
by the regulations of the Accademia di San Luca. Although we do not know to
what extent and how effectively these new structures functioned in the first
decades of the Roman institution, they soon spread to other academies, becoming
the model for the Académie Royale in Paris. All these institutions strongly
advocate the copy of the Antique, both in plaster reproduction or in the
original. The Accademia del Disegno supervises drawing from the Antique both in
the Academy and in the workshops where apprentices were trained. It also owns a
‘libreria’, which includes drawings, models of statues, architectural plans,
and ancient sculpture, all used as teaching tools. The Accademia di San Luca
lists the copying after the Antique in its first statutes and receives a donation of casts, while numerous
plasters – such as reliefs from Trajan’s Column, the bust and the head of the
Laocoonte, one of the Horse Tamers of the Quirinal, the Torso del Belvedere and
many other entire or in fragments – appear in its early inventories. The
importance accorded by Zuccaro, the founder of the Roman Academy’s curriculum,
to the thorough study of Rome’s most famous statues, emerges from his wonderful
drawing of his brother, Taddeo sketching the Laocoonte at the Belvedere. The
series to which this drawing belongs, produced around the same time as the
foundation of the Accademia di San Luca, illustrates the ideal training that am
artist should follow: imitation of the Antique and the works of Renaissance
masters, such as Sanzio’s Stanze and Loggie, Buonarroti’s Last Judgment and
Polidoro’s painted façades. Another sketch, by a Zuccaro follower, depicts Zuccaro
himself in the Accademia, surrounded by students sketching after the cast of an
ancient torso. The Carracci academy too, although primarily focused on
life-drawin (DISEGNO DALLA VITA), advocates study of the Antique and we know
that Carracci makes his collection of drawings, medals and casts available for
students. Early academies also codified a teaching model, defined as the
‘alphabet of drawing’ or the ‘ABC’ method, which, in a less regulated form, was
already established within work-shops and which would have a long-lasting
impact. This contributes significantly to giving the Antique a fixed place
within teaching curricula. Modelled on the learning of grammar, the ‘alphabet’ is
a sequence that encourage students to advance from elementary unity to complex
whole and from the simple and similar to the varied and different. The scheme
once again originated in Alberti, who advises a painter to follow the method
practiced by teachers of writing, from the alphabet to whole words. So the beginner
is supposed to learn first ‘the outlines of surfaces, then the way in which
surfaces are joined together, and after that the forms of all the members
individually; and they should commit to memory all the differences that can
exist in those members’. He recommends the same process for the study of the
male anatomy: starting from the bones, proceeding to the sinews and muscles,
and finally to the flesh and skin. An iincreased stress on the naked male means
that pupils often start from the eye, then assembles different parts of the
body in ever more intricate combinations, and finally reaches the whole naked
male, via the study of ancient sculpture AND the live model. Benvenuto [Workshop
of Federico Zuccaro, A Group of Artists Copying a Sculpture, c. 1600, 190 × 264
mm, pen, black and red chalk on prepared paper, Biblioteca Ambrosiana, Milan,
inv. F 261 inf. n. 128, p. 125] Cellini reports that starting with the eye is
the common practice and advised, like Alberti, a similar process for the study
of anatomy. This process is reflected in the various images of early academies
or studios, such as Stradanus’ The Practice of the Visual Arts, where one pupil
is shown drawing an eye on his sheet, or Alberti’s Painters’ Academy where an artist
is presenting a similar drawing to his master. A parallel progression led the
student from simplicity to complexity in the depiction of outlines, surfaces,
chiaroscuro, poses and expressions: from copying objects in the same medium and
in two dimensions, to the imitation of three-dimensional figure. The process
usually starts with copying a drawing or print, then paintings, first in
grisaille and then in colour, moving onto ancient sculpture [PRELIMINARY to the
LIVE MODEL – drawn from life], either originals or casts, and, FINALLY, to the
live model. This progression, already outlined by Vinci in his treatise on
painting, and advocated also by Vasari, is codified by Armenini, the first to
list all its stages while simultaneously assigning a central role to classical
statuary in providing a model for ideal forms. Armenini delineates both the
progression from the eye to the whole body and from a drawing or print to the
live model (via the preliminary of the ‘drawn from the antique’, and warned the reader not to subvert this
order. The earliest academies applied this method and Zuccaro’s statutes of the
Accademia di San Luca, which are the most explicit, specifically mentioned the
‘alphabet’ or ‘ABC’ of drawing. It becomes standard practice in academies. The aim is, as most writers reiterated, to
assimilate this repertory of forms through constant study and the exercise of
memory, as to finally be able to create a form from imagination – for a
mythological heroic figure -- *independent* of any object of imitation
(IMITATUM). The ‘alphabet of drawing’ has its physical manifestation in the
publication of the drawing-book, conceived in the environment of the Carracci
academy, such as Fialetti’s “Il vero modo”. The diffusion of such manuals contributed
enormously to spreading the knowledge of the didactic role of the Antique to
artists who makes a grand tour to Rome a compulsory part of his education. Odoardo
Fialetti, Il vero modo et ordine per dissegnar tutte le parti et membra del
corpo humano, Venice, c. 1608, etching, 100 × 140 mm, The Bellinheger Collection].
Rome establishes herself as the preeminent centre for anyone eager to
assimilate the principle of Italian art. The first significant artist, and one
of the greatest of all to do the tour to the Belvedere with the specific
educational intent, is Dürer. Durer spends the years in Rome. The impact of
classical statuary is evident in many of his prints and paintings, for example,
in his “Adam and Eve”. But the largest number of artists to travel to Rome
originates from the Low Countries. Coming from a powerful and influential
pictorial tradition that privileged an analytical representation of nature, and
having received little or no exposure to classical antiquity in their training,
Netherlandish artists seek especially to learn how to master the naked male
through the lessons of the Antique and the works of Sanzio and Buonarroti. Rome
offers also the opportunity of training in one of its many workshops and the
appealing possibility of benefiting from the system of commissions. Indeed the
‘fiamminghi’, as they are called in Rome, gain an increasing number of
commissions, eventually, in their turn, influencing the Roman art world. Some
of them stayed for long periods or moved permanently, such as Stradanus, Giambologna
– il ratto delle sabine, il mcurio di Medici -- or Tetrode. We know about the
Roman years of many of these artists mainly thanks to Mander’s “Schilderboeck”,
the earliest systematic account of Netherlandish and Northern European
painters, based on Vasari’s “Vite”. The approach of these artists towards the
Antique could be varied and multi-faceted. Most fill their sketchbooks with
drawings that served as a collection of forms to be re-used. Others, like
Spranger, according to Van Mander, aim to assimilate the principles of
classical art to establish a repertoires of forms and an attitude towards the
naked male that could be infused in their own creations, rather than spending
too much time in the physical act of drawing. Although ‘Mabuse’ is the first
Fleming to pass time in the peninsula, it was only with Scorel that the lesson
of antiquity was transmitted, through his work-shop at Utrecht. Of his various
pupils, Heemskerck is certainly the most prolific and versatile in copying
antique statuary. Two albums from the
years he spent in Rome are preserved in Berlin. They constitute one of
the largest surviving collections of copies after the Antique and are filled
with exceptional drawings in different media and size, offering an invaluable
opportunity to categorise the many different approaches to classical statuary
that can be described as record drawings. Many are topographical views of Rome
in which Heemskerck indulges in the depiction of architectural ruins and
sculptural fragments, and which he later reuses in imaginary landscapes. Some
of his views are poetic meditations on the colossal ruins of the city, physical
reminders of the passage of time, of human grandeur and fragility, a mood he
shared with other artists, such as Herman [Heemskerck, View of the Santacroce
Statue Court, 1532–37, pen and brown ink, 136 × 213 mm, Staatliche Museen zu
Berlin, Preussischer Kulturbesitz, Kupferstichkabinett, Heemskerck Album I,
fol. 29r] Posthumus. Other drawings are more or less accurate depictions of classical
statues in their physical locations, from the Belvedere to the Campidoglio, to
Roman private courtyards and gardens (figs 16 and 38), where the antiquities
are shown in their still fragmentary state. In numerous detailed drawings
focusing on single statues, we see Heemskerck’s different approaches to copying
the Antique and, correspondingly, the different media he employs to do so. His
drawings range from the precise pen-and-ink study, in which he faithfully
records the condition of celebrated statues, isolating the head as a physiognomic
type to a drawing where the whole statue is presented FROM DIFFERENT ANGLES, to
record the different poses and volumes of the naked male in space. He also makes
copies in which he exploits the softness of red chalk to study anatomical
details, assembling parts from different statues on the same sheet and focusing
on torsos and legs, sometimes even disregarding the face, the drapery or other
details. Finally, in yet other red chalk drawings he carefully records decorative details
from a statue or a relief. The variety of techniques and handling deployed in
these [Fig. 39. (top left) Maarten van Heemskerck, Head of the Laocoön,
1532–36, pen and brown ink, 136 × 211 mm, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin,
Preussischer Kulturbesitz, Kupferstichkabinett, Heemskerck Album I, fol. 39r. Heemskerck,
Two Studies of the Head of the Apollo Belvedere, 1532–36, pen and brown ink,
136 × 211 mm, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, Preussischer Kulturbesitz,
Kupferstichkabinett, Heemskerck Album I, fol. 36v. Heemskerck, Three Studies of
a Fragmentary Statue of a Crouching Venus in the Palazzo Madama, 1532–36, pen
and brown ink, 135 × 210 mm, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, Preussischer
Kulturbesitz, Kupferstichkabinett, Heemskerck Album I, fol. 06v. Heemskerck,
Studies of Three Torsos and a Leg from Classical Statues in the Casa Sassi,
1532–33, red chalk, 135 × 211 mm, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, Preussischer
Kulturbesitz, Kupferstichkabinett, Heemskerck Album I, fol. 51v. Heemskerck,
The Right Foot of the So-Called ‘Colossal Genius’, 1532–33, red chalk, 135 ×
208 mm, Berlin, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, Preussischer Kulturbesitz,
Kupferstichkabinett, Heemskerck Album I, fol. 65v ] copies allowed him to
find appropriate solutions to the variety of problems posed by the style and
condition of the works that he copied. The result is a stunning visual
repertory that is easy to access and use, and which would inspire him when he
returned home. Several Frenchmen also established their residence in Rome. Many
of them, such as Beatrizet, Lafréry, or Dupérac, specialise in engraved views
of the city and its ancient remains, catering to a market increasingly
fascinated by Rome’s ruins and statues. In one engraving attributed to
Beatrizet, we find a rare image of an artist in the act of copying from ancient
statuary in situ – in this case the famous colossal “Grande Bellezza” Marforio,
at that time located in the Forum now in the courtyard of the Palazzo Nuovo of
the Campidoglio. The image clearly expresses the sense of awe that one feels in
front of the grandeur of the remains of Roman classical statuary. The
fragmentary condition of so much monumental sculpture inspired thoughts about
the fragility of the human condition and the ultimate insignificance of worldly
troubles, which, as the inscription on the print remarks, the old Marforio
‘does not consider worth a single penny’. It is against this backdrop that we
must consider Goltzius’ draughtsmanly activity in Rome, where he arrived almost
certainly on the recommendation of his friend Mander, who had already been in
Italy. Goltzius was then is celebrated as an [Fig. 44. Beatrizet (attr.), An
Artist Drawing the ‘Marforio’, 1550, engraving, 370 × 432 mm, published in
Antoine Lafréry’s Speculum Romanae Magnificentiae] engraver throughout Europe.
With Mander and Haarlem he establishes an academy in Haarlem. Although we know
almost nothing about this artistic association, it must have involved
discussions about the Antique and its representation among the three friends,
who had the advantage of direct access to Heemskerck’s Roman drawings, then
owned by Cornelisz. It is therefore significant that while in Rome, Goltzius takes
an approach to classical statuary that is very different from Heemskerck’s. Goltzius
concentrates from the beginning on *thirty* of the most famous classical
statues, of which 43 drawings in total survive. Goltzius’s drawings are highly
finished and unprecedentedly detailed, carefully recording the tonal passages
on the muscles of the statues. The viewpoint is almost always close and frontal
to the statue, or exploits the most dramatic or informative angle. Most
importantly, unlike almost all of his predecessors, who fill single pages of
their sketchbooks with details from unrelated sculptures, he devotes a full
page to *each*, a practice followed by Rubens. Goltzius’s intent from the
beginning is clearly to produce a drawing that may be transformed into an engravings
capable of surpassing in precision all previously published series, and which,
in faithfully reproducing the volume of the naked male, would also demonstrate
his renowned virtuosity in handling the burin. His set is intended for a market
of connoisseurs and collectors, but it is also likely that Goltzius wishes to
provide anyone with correct and detailed images of classical statues that they
could copy during their apprenticeships. Goltzius engraves only three plates,
one of which, significantly, shows an artist at work copying the celebrated
Apollo del Belvedere. A few years after Goltzius’s tour to Rome, Rubens arrives.
He spends two prolonged periods in Rome. Rubens constitutes a special case,
being the perfect embodiment of the humanistic ideal of the artist-scholar: the
son of a wealthy Antwerp family, highly educated in the classics and socially
accomplished, Rubens arrives in Rome already equipped with a thorough
understanding of the Antique and its literary sources, a passion he cultivates throughout
his life with his circle of scholarly friends and patrons. Rubens’s approach
towards classical statuary is therefore fascinating, complex and varied.
Rubens’ appetite for the most famous ancient statues must have been stimulated
already in Antwerp through the engravings by Raimondi and his pupils and
through those in the collections published by Lafréry and De Cavalieri. When in
Rome Rubens devotes himself completely to copying this or that original with
unique thoroughness, both to exercise his draughtsmanship and to create an
immense repertory of forms, to which he refers for inspiration throughout his
life. His approach towards classical statuary istwofold. One is purely intellectual,
focused on understanding the mathematical proportions and volumes of this or
that emblematic antique which he divides into different categories according to
muscular strength, to capture the very essence of their perfection. The other is
more direct: to study the statue exhaustively in order to assimilate its formal
principle For Rubens it is not only necessary to ‘understand the antique’, but
‘to be so thoroughly possessed of this knowledge, that it may diffuse itself
everywhere’. Unlike Goltzius, Rubens studies a statue over and over again,
copying it from many, and often unusual, points of view, devoting a single page
to each. No one before Rubens shows such a painstaking interest in
understanding the formal logic of a single statue intended as a whole. Rubens’s
focus on the naked male – to learn the principles of a perfect naked male – on specificslly ‘muscular’ masculine male
statues, such the Laocoonte, the Torso del Belvedere, and the Ercole Farnese
and his choice of the most favourable points of view, may reflect the specific
advice and examples given in Lomazzo’s Trattato and in Armenini’s Veri Precetti.
But, as Dolce and Armenini had already done before him, Rubens also cautions to
focus on the form and not on the matter of the statue, to avoid the ‘smell’ in a
drawing or a creation. Rubens is aware of the danger of transferring the
characteristics and limits of a three-dimensional medium (is flesh the medium
of the live model?) into another – drawing or painting. In a section titled “De
Imitatione Statuarum” of a larger theoretical notebook that he compiles over
several years, Rubens refers to painters who ‘make no distinction between the
form and the matter -- the ‘figura’ and the flesh, with the result
that ‘instead of ‘imitating’ living flesh from the life of nature, they
only represent marble tinged with various colours’. We can see Rubens’s genius
at re-vitalising the ‘inert’ substance of the antique model as if it were a
live model to be drawn from life, by applying his principle of inventive and
transformative imitation in most of his drawings after the Antique, for which
he uses soft chalk on rough paper better to ‘re-translate’ the substance back into
the natural living flesh, as if drawn from life. This is particularly evident
in muscular figures such as the Torso del Belvedere and the Laocoonte, which he
brings back to life, to the life Virgil instilled Laocoonte with, or Aiace had.
-- adopting a dramatic angle and a diagonal that completely abandons the
static [Rubens, The Back of the Belvedere Torso, c. 1601–02, red
chalk, 395 × 260 mm, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, inv. 2002.12b] and
the academic frontal point of view of most academic drawings. This attention to
the qualities of the naked male skin and flesh, and the dynamism, pathos, and
drama that he learns mainly from classically Roman – but POST-classically
Greek] statuary is to become the main traits of his own art. In this he is following
in the footsteps of Buonarroti, who, not by chance, Rubens copied extensively,
focusing especially on the nudes of the Sistine Chapel and on his statues. Rubens
adopts a similar approach to the live model, which he often poses in attitudes
reminiscent of an antique – such as the Spinario, or the Wrestlers. Unsurprisingly,
he frequently cited the Laocoonte and the Torso, but the most recurrent is the
Spinario in the Campidoglio – even though the head is not the original one -- for
which several drawings of the complex pose made from different angles survive. The Spinario pose is already chosen by one of
the pupils of Gozzoli for this particular purpose of the antique-imitating live
model, and it remains one of the most popular, even, easiest, for posing the
live model – everyone has a thorn! -- Rubens’s drawings of the Spinario convey
the essence of Rubens’s attitude towards the ideal human form, and the
Spinario’s attitude towards his own thorn. By posing flesh as imitatiang
another substance imitating flresh, Rubens – or the artist who does this -- is
able to bypass the dangers of the ‘matter’ to focus only on the complex form and
pose of the original statue or statuary group or syntagma (think Lottatori!). Back
in Antwerp, Rubens retains until his death his drawings after the Antique,
bound together in separate books, as a distinctive part of the collection of
his house-museum, which hosted also numerous antiquities. They remain a
constant source of inspiration and they may also have been used as teaching
tools – as in the best tradition of Renaissance workshop practices – judging by
the copies deposited by his pupils in the cantoor, Rubens’s cabinet or studio.
The flux of artists coming to Rome did not cease, although most become
fascinated by the radical naturalism of Caravaggio and his followers, rather than
aiming at recreating the principles of classical art. A group of artists even
develops a successful speciality in the depiction of contemporary Roman street
life and everyday reality: a rustic tavern, a drinking scenes, brigands, street
vendors, charlatans and carnivals. The art of the ‘Bamboccianti’, so named
after their leader, Laer, dubbed ‘Bamboccio’, or ‘ugly puppet’, is fiercely
criticised as a debased form of art that deliberately chose the ‘worst’ of nature
(cf. verismo, and the customs of realistic naturalism) by the supporters of
classicism and history painting, such as Albani, Sacchi, and Rosa, as well as
by the philosophers of ‘ideal beauty’ such as Bellori. In contrast to the
Dutch, among the foreign communities in Rome, it was the French who are to take
the lead in the cause of classicism, the defence of Ideal Beauty and the copy
and study of the Antique. The contrasting attitudes of artists towards the
study of art in Rome is perfectly visualised in a canvas by Goubau, a Flemish
painter influenced by the Bamboccianti, who had been in Rome. On the right,
judicious [Rubens, Study of the Laocoön Seen from the Back, c. 1606–08, black
chalk, 440 × 283 mm, Biblioteca Ambrosiana, Milan, inv. 624, F 249 inf. n. 5,
p. 11. Rubens, Study of the Younger Son FIGLIO PIU GIOVANE of the Laocoön Seen
from the Back, black chalk, 444 × 265 mm, Biblioteca Ambrosiana, Milan, inv.
623, F 249 inf. n. 5, p. 11] artists under the supervision of a master are busy
at work among imaginary Roman ruins, copying and measuring an ancient statue or
a relief, among them the ERCOLE FARNESE; on the left the Bamboccianti indulge
in the pleasures of wine and music under the pergola of a rustic tavern. Nevertheless,
this wittily expressed opposition should not be taken too literally, as the
educational and inspirational role of classical statuary had been deeply
assimilated by artists of every inclination or aesthetic Many move between
genres and artistic currents such as the Flemish genre painter Lint, who
produced many drawings after the Antique while in Rome. Even those close to the
Bamboccianti clearly treasured the didactic role of classical statuary, as can
be seen in the depictions of workshops and artists at work by the Flemish Sweerts.
The Antique, and its didactic role in the Italian model of artistic education,
also made rapid progress in all of civilised Europe, supported by the
publication of Karel van Mander’s Schilderboeck. Knowledge was transmitted
mainly through drawings, drawing-books and plaster casts. These are used in the
drawing schools or private academies that proliferate, some of which were
founded by the same artists who had been exponents of the Bamboccianti in Rome.
These drawing schools often had to struggle against regulations by the guilds,
which remained the dominant associations for artists, dictating what goes on in
a workshop – the notable exception being the academy founded in Antwerp by
royal [Goubau, The Study of Art in Rome, 1662, oil on canvas, 132 × 165 cm,
Royal Museum of Fine Arts, Antwerp, inv. 185] decree. But despite the heavy
hands of the guilds, many thriving workshops, while accepting individual
apprentices, adopt *Italian* academic practices, such as conducting classes for
groups of students, or implementing a training programme focused on drawing and
the mastery of the human form. This often included the ‘alphabet of drawing’,
as was the practice of Rembrandt’s studio in Amsterdam, in which many students were
taught annually, and of Rubens, who, as court painter, did not have to register
his apprentices with the Antwerp guild.142 According to Van Mander, another
studio famous for its educational efficacy was that of Abraham Bloemaert in
Utrecht (see cat. 11).143 During the second half of the century, other private
drawing schools or ‘colleges’ were founded, which cater for a clientele of
artists or the dilettanti giving them the chance to draw from casts and the
nude live model alongside their studio practice. Among the most famous are those
of Sweerts, opened in Brussels and of Bisschop in The Hague. Closely connected
with workshops’ and schools’ drawing practices was the proliferation of
drawing-books and artists’ manuals. Most of them were based on the example of
Odoardo Fialetti’s Il Vero Modo and Giacomo Franco’s De excellentia et
nobilitate delineationis (1611) sometimes re- printing parts of them.147 Like
their Italian predecessors, Netherlandish drawing-books focused on the human
form, on classical statuary, and on the different stages of the academic
learning process.148 The increasing importance of 38 39 the Antique
in the Netherlands is well expressed by the various Dutch translations of
François Perrier’s Segmenta (1638) – the most successful collection of prints
after classical statues of the 17th century (fig. 57 and cat. 16, figs 3–6) –
and by the equal success of its Dutch counterpart, Jan de Bisschop’s Icones
(1668, see cat. 13), explicitly compiled as a teaching tool.149 Antique models
were also copied by young Northern artists in three dimensions, thanks to the
proliferation of casts, as shown in the frontispiece of Abraham Bloemaert’s
Konstryk Tekenboek (c. 1650) – one of the most influential draw- ing-books of
the second half of the century (see cat. 11). Many studios and drawing schools
owned collections of casts, often of famous prototypes such as the Laocoön or
the Apollo Belvedere. Inventories of the studios of Cornelis Cornelisz. van
Haarlem, Hendrik van Balen (1575–1632), and Rembrandt, for instance, testify to
their presence.150 The diffusion of casts appears explicitly in the numerous
paintings depicting young artists at work, which became popular from the middle
of the century onwards (figs 49–53, see also cats 12 and 14). These works
constitute an individual iconographical genre that probably derives from
Fialetti’s striking etching (see cat. 10), which, as we have seen, was well
known and reprinted several times in the Netherlands.151 This genre was
practised mainly by Jacob Van Oost the Elder (1601–71, fig. 50), Wallerant
Vaillant (1623–77, fig. 51), Balthasar Van den Bossche (1681–1715) and Michael
Sweerts (fig. 52 and cat. 12), whose canvases tend to represent the ideal
training curricu- lum, where the copying of plaster casts after the Antique has
the place of honour.152 As ‘low’ genre paintings that celebrate the didactic
role of the Antique – traditionally considered to be essential for the lofty
genre of history painting rather than for scenes of daily life – they
indirectly attest to the ubiquitous penetration of classical models in all 17th-century
artistic practices. Incidentally they are also a direct visual source for the
most widely diffused typologies of classical statues in the North of Europe in
the 17th century: from busts of the Apollo Belvedere (figs 18 and 50), of the
Laocoön group, both father and sons (figs 19 and 51), and of the so-called
Grimani Vitellius (fig. 52), to reduced copies of the Spinario (figs 15 and
49), the Belvedere Antinous (figs 22 and 51), the Venus de’ Medici (figs 53 and
56), and the Farnese Hercules (see fig. 32 and cat. 14). Also frequently
depicted are busts of Niobe (see fig. 34 and cat. 12), reduced copies of the
Wrestlers (fig. 33) and the Borghese Gladiator (fig. 54). The Italian and the
French Academies in the Seventeenth Century and the Establishment of Classicism
The 17th century witnessed dramatic changes of attitude towards the study of
the Antique in terms of codification, diffusion and theoretical debate; at the
same time it saw the formulation of a style heavily dependent on classical
sculp- ture, setting the stage for the final affirmation of classicism as a
pan-European phenomenon in the following century. The selection of the most
significant antique statues, begun in the 16th century, was further refined,
especially in the cos- mopolitan antiquarian environment of Rome. Excavations
continued and some of the new discoveries immediately joined the canon of ideal
models. Three of them, in particu- lar, were ubiquitously reproduced and copied
in studios and academies: the Borghese Gladiator (fig. 54), discovered in 1611,
which soon became the preferred model for the anatomy of the muscular man in
action; the Dying Gladiator (fig. 55), first mentioned in 1623, whose complex
pose could be drawn from different angles and which offered an ideal of heroic
pathos expressed in the moment of death; and finally, the Venus de’ Medici
(fig. 56), first recorded in 1638 but possibly known in the late 16th century,
which rapidly became the most admired embodiment of the graceful female
body.153 New collections gradually replaced earlier ones and a few families
succeeded in acquiring some of the newly discovered statues that had gained
canonical status. The magnificent urban palaces and suburban villas of the
Medici, Farnese, Borghese, Ludovisi and Giustiniani attracted an increasing
number of visitors and artists, becoming privileged centres for the study of
the Antique, and family names became attached to certain statues, as the
Farnese Hercules or the Venus de’ Medici testify.154 Some of these, such as the
Palazzo Farnese (see cat. 21), and the Casino Borghese retained their status as
‘private museums’ until the end of the 18th century. Prints continued to play a
vital role in the dissemination of images of classical statues throughout
Europe. They were produced predominantly in Rome, where, as in the 16th
century, French printmakers played a prominent role along- side Italian
antiquarians and engravers.155 Among others, the publications of François
Perrier (1594–1649) and the duo comprising the antiquarian and theoretician
Giovanni Pietro Bellori (1613–96) and the engraver Pietro Santi Bartoli (1615–
1700), offered artists and the educated public a choice of Fig. 54. Agasias of
Ephesus, Borghese Gladiator, c. 100 bc, marble, 199 cm (h), Louvre, Paris, inv.
Ma 527 Fig. 55. Dying Gladiator, Roman copy of a Pergamene original of the 3rd
century bc, marble, 93 cm (h), Capitoline Museums, Rome, inv. MC0747 Fig.
49. (top left) Jan ter Borch, The Drawing Lesson, 1634, oil on canvas, 120 ×
159 cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, inv. SK-A-1331 Fig. 50. (top right) Jacob van
Oost the Elder, The Painter’s Studio, 1666, oil on canvas, 111.5 × 150.5 cm,
Groeningenmuseum, Bruges, inv. 0000.GRO0188.II Fig. 51. (bottom left) Wallerant
Vaillant, The Artist’s Pupil, c. 1668, oil on canvas, 119 × 90 cm,
Bonnefantenmuseum, Maastricht, inv. 673 Fig. 52. (bottom centre) Michael
Sweerts (attr.), Boy Copying a Cast of the Head of Emperor Vitellius, c.
1658–59, oil on canvas, 49.5 × 40.6 cm, The Minneapolis Institute of Arts, inv.
72-65 Fig. 53. (bottom right) Pieter van der Werf, A Girl Drawing and a Boy
near a Statue of Venus, 1715, oil on panel, 38.5 × 29 cm, Rijksmuseum,
Amsterdam, inv. SK-A-472 40 41 the ‘best’ ancient statues and reliefs;
the authority of their selections lasted throughout the 18th century. For
full-length statues, crucial was the appearance in 1638 of Perrier’s Segmenta
nobilium signorum et statuarum (fig. 57 and cat. 16 figs 3–6), a collection of
prints which in many ways fulfils what Goltzius had intended to publish four
decades earlier (see cats 6–7).156 Offering good quality reproductions and
different points of view– three for the Farnese Hercules and four for the
Borghese Gladiator, for instance – Perrier’s images were essential in focusing
the attention of artists on a selected number of models considered exemplary in
anatomy, proportions, poses and expressions. Reprinted and trans- lated several
times, the success of the Segmenta was immense and it was used in studios and
academies as a teaching tool for almost two centuries, as we have seen earlier
in the Netherlands. As late as 1820 John Flaxman was still recom- mending the
use of Perrier to his students at the Royal Academy.157 Such publications were
the results of the antiquarian and theoretical interests of a French-Italian
classicist milieu that flourished in the first half of the century in Rome.158
Innumerable French artists now spent time in the city, filling sketchbooks with
copies after the Antique and Renaissance Fig. 56. Venus de’ Medici, Greek or
Roman copy of the 1st century bc of a Greek original of the 4th century bc,
marble, 153 cm (h), Uizi, Florence, inv. 224 Fig. 57. François Perrier, Venus
de’Medici, plate 81, from Segmenta nobilium signorum et statuarum, Rome, 1638
masters, and devoting increasing space to the study of Raphael.159 Two of the
most relevant figures in this context were the great French painter Nicolas
Poussin (1594–1665), who resided in Rome between 1624 and 1665 (with a brief
sojourn in France in 1640–42), and his friend and biographer Giovanni Pietro
Bellori, possibly the most influential art writer of the century, who deserves
to be called the pro- tagonist in the theoretical formulation of classicism. Of
similar significance was the scholar, antiquarian, collector and patron Cassiano
dal Pozzo (1588–1657), a friend of both Poussin and Bellori – and patron of the
former – who assem- bled a vast encyclopaedic collection of drawings divided by
themes, a ‘Paper Museum’, with sections devoted to classi- cal antiquity
commissioned from several contemporary artists.160 Classicism found probably
its clearest and most influen- tial formulations in a landmark discourse
composed by Bellori and delivered in 1664, the year before Poussin’s death, in
the Roman Accademia di San Luca: the ‘Idea of the painter, the sculptor and the
architect, selected from the beauties of Nature, superior to Nature’ (see
Appendix, no. 11). Bellori’s theoretical statement, published as a prologue to
his Vite in 1672, was to become enormously influential in defining and disseminating
the central tenets of the classicist ideal (see cat. 15).161 Joining
Aristotelian and neo-Platonic premises, Bellori’s Idea advocates in the
selection of the best parts of Nature according to the right judgement of the
artist in order to create ideal beauty – a concept that we have already
encountered many times. According to Bellori, the Idea had been embodied in art
at several periods of history and he traced its development according to a
scheme of peaks and descents. It took shape first and foremost in the ancient
world and was revived in modern times by Raphael, who is accorded nearly divine
status. After the decadence and excesses of Mannerism, it was revitalised by
the Bolognese Annibale Carracci (1560–1609) and by his pupils and follow- ers,
notably Domenichino (1581–1641). Their flame was kept alive in Bellori’s time
by Poussin and Carlo Maratti (1625– 1713), a protégé of Bellori, who fashioned
himself as the new Raphael and whose Academy of Drawing is the most program-
matic representation of the principles of Roman classicism (see cat. 15).
Bellori’s classicism, heir of the rich debates of the first half of the
century, can be defined as a codification and defence of an idealistic style
and of moralising history painting against the radical naturalism introduced by
Caravaggio and his followers, whose slavish dependence on Nature and choice of
low subjects were seen to undermine the intellectual premises of art. On the
other hand, Bellori also confronted the excesses and liberties of the Baroque,
whose representatives, according to him, leaned towards artificiality and
despised the ‘ancient purity’.162 Classicism in many ways was based on the
princi- ples laid down by the art theory of the second half of the 16th
century, as it shared with it a fundamental premise: the neces- sity of the
defence of what was perceived as the ideal path of art – the ‘bella maniera’ –
against contemporary artistic trends which were considered erroneous or even
noxious.163 The classicist theoretical approach further reinforced the practice
of copying: it reinstated the intellectual value of drawing while providing a
selected group of correct models to follow, with the Antique and Raphael on the
loftiest pedestal. These premises were embraced by the Italian and French
academies, and became the basis of most of the European academies of the
following century – Opie’s words to the young pupils of the Royal Academy in
1807 still reiterate their fundamental tenets. Although the debate was at times
fierce – as for instance within the Accademia di San Luca in the 1630s – a
strict division of 17th-century artists into classicist, naturalist and Baroque
categories would be arbitrary and inaccurate, as many of them moved between
currents and at times incor- porated elements of each in their own creations.
Indeed, artists of all allegiances copied, studied and took inspiration from
the Antique. We know from surviving drawings and contemporary written sources
that ‘classicist’ artists such as Annibale Carracci, Poussin and Maratti copied
antique statues (figs 58–61), yet an equal number of ‘Baroque’ Fig. 58.
Annibale Carracci, Head of Pan from the marble group of Pan and Olympos in the
Farnese Collection, 1597–98, black chalk heightened with white chalk on
grey-blue paper, 381 × 245 mm, Louvre, Paris, inv. 7193 artists, such as
Rubens (figs 45–47 and cat. 9), Pietro da Cortona (1596–1669, fig. 62) and
Bernini (figs 63–64) spent as much time in absorbing the principles of the
Antique.164 Nevertheless their approaches towards the Antique could be very
different. Poussin, the intellectual and antiquarian painter par excellence,
copied hundreds of details from classical sculpture, especially reliefs and
sarcophagi, to give archaeo- logical consistency to his art, so that his paintings
would represent classical histories with the maximum of accuracy, 42 43
Fig. 59. Nicolas Poussin, Equestrian Statue of Marcus Aurelius, c. 1630–32, pen
and brown ink and brown wash, 244 × 190 mm, Musée Condé, Chantilly, inv. AI
219; NI 264 Fig. 60. Carlo Maratti, The Farnese Flora, c. 1645–70, black chalk,
294 × 159 mm, The Royal Collection, Windsor Castle, inv. 904377 Fig. 61. Carlo
Maratti, or Studio of, The Farnese Hercules, c. 1645–70, red chalk, 292 × 165
mm, The Royal Collection, Windsor Castle, inv. 904382 Fig. 62. Pietro da
Cortona, The Trophies of Marius, c. 1628–1632, pen, brown ink, brown wash,
heightened in white, on blue sky prepared paper, 518 × 346 mm, The Royal
Collection, Windsor Castle, inv. RL 8249 integrity and power, an approach in several
ways similar to that of Mantegna and Raphael. Bernini, arguably the greatest
17th-century sculptor, spent his youth obsessively copying the ancient statues
in the Belvedere (see Appendix, nos 9–10) and in his old age recommended that
students of the Académie Royale in Paris begin their studies by copying casts
of the most famous classical statues before approaching Nature (see Appendix,
nos 9–10). But Bernini’s attitude towards ancient statuary was poles apart from
that of Poussin (whom he nevertheless highly admired): he assimilated its
principles in order to create his own independent forms, at times deviating
radically from the classical model – an atti- tude that we have already seen in
Michelangelo and Rubens. To develop their own style and avoid a slavish
dependency on the Antique – something already stressed by Dolce, Armenini and
Rubens (Appendix, nos 4, 6, 8) – he advised his students to combine and
alternate ‘action and contemplation’, that is to alternate their own production
with the practice of copy- ing (Appendix, no. 10). A wonderful example that
allows us to follow Bernini’s creative process of transforming of the antique
model is provided by a study of the torso of the Laocoön, the unbalanced and
twisted pose of which he then ingeniously adapted in reverse for the complex
attitude of his Daniel (figs 63–66). A recollection of the Laocoön is further-
more recognisable in Daniel’s powerful expression (fig. 66).165 A practical
outcome of the French and Italian theoretical formulation of a classicist
doctrine was the foundation in 1648 of the Académie Royale de Peinture et de
Sculpture in Paris, followed in 1666 by that of the Académie de France in Rome
– the latter intended to give prize-winning students the opportunity to study
the Antique in situ and to provide 44 Louis XIV (r. 1643–1715) with copies of
classical and Ren- aissance statues.166 The foundation of the French Académie
in Paris is a turning point in the history of the teaching of art, as its
codified programme – based on Italian examples, and especially the Roman
Accademia di San Luca – would constitute the basis for the academies that
spread over the Western world in the 18th and 19th centuries. Founded by
several artists, most of whom had spent periods in Rome such as Charles Le Brun
(1619–90), the Paris Académie was supported by the monarch and candidates could
apply for admission only after they had trained in a workshop. Its regulations
aimed at full intellectual develop- ment for its students to prepare them for
the creation of the highest genre, history painting, or the grande manière.
Although its curriculum was rather loosely organised and, in the first tw
o decades of its history, fairly tolerant in its aesthetic positions, during
the 1660s the Académie was drastically reformed by the powerful Minister and
Super- intendent of Buildings Jean-Baptiste Colbert (1619–83) and by Le Brun to
become an institution in the service of the absolutist policy of Louis XIV,
with a codified version of classicism as its official aesthetic. The
rationalistic nature of French 17th-century culture meant that the Académie
conceived of art as a science that could be taught by rules. This was
explicitly stated by Le Brun in 1670,167 and efforts were concentrated in
clarifying and applying most of the precepts already devised by the early
Italian academies and theoreticians. If a student followed these precepts
correctly he – and only he, as the institution was limited to male pupils until
the late 19th century – would be able to assimilate the principles of ideal
beauty and create grand art.168 The future European success of this regimented
version of the humanistic theory of art rested exactly in its rational nature,
as a clear system of rules easy to export and replicate, offering at the same
time a safe path towards ‘true’ and universal art. Pupils were supposed to
follow the ‘alphabet of drawing’, from copying drawings, to casts and statues,
to the live model, which remained the most difficult task and one reserved for
the most advanced students. Regular lectures on geometry, perspective and
anatomy were provided. As in Federico Zuccaro’s statutes for the Accademia di
San Luca, professors rotated monthly to supervise the life class, prizes were
awarded to students and regular debates were initiated on the principles of art
– the celebrated so-called Conférences, regularly held from 1667 onwards on the
advice of Colbert, although they faltered by the end of the century to be
revived only a few decades later.169 Other aspects of the reforms of the 1660s
included the division of the drawing course into lower classes, devoted to
copying, and higher classes, for Fig. 63. Gian Lorenzo Bernini, Study of the
Torso of the Father in the Laocoön group, c. 1650–55, red chalk heightened with
white on grey paper, 369 × 250 mm, Museum der Bildenden Künste, Leipzig, inv.
7903 Fig. 64. Gian Lorenzo Bernini, Two Studies for the Statue of ‘Daniel’, c.
1655, red chalk on grey paper, 375 × 234 mm, Museum der Bildenden Künste,
Leipzig, inv. 7890 Fig. 65. Gian Lorenzo Bernini, Daniel in the Lion’s Den, c.
1655, terracotta, 41.6 cm (h), Vatican Museums, Rome, inv. 2424 drawing from
the live model. Competitions were further structured to lead towards the
highest reward, the famous Grand Prix or Prix de Rome, which allowed the
winners to spend between three and five years at the Académie de France in
Rome, to complete their education and to assimilate the principles of the
greatest ancient and modern art. The official doctrine of the Paris Académie
was distilled and diffused by André Félibien (1619–95), the most promi- nent
French art theorist of the period, in his preface to the first series of
Conférences held in 1667 and published in 1668. Félibien offered a clear
structure for the hierarchy of genres that would be associated with academic
painting for the next two centuries: at the bottom was still life, followed on
an ascending line by landscape, genre painting, portraiture and finally by
history painting, for which the study of the Antique, of modern masters and of
the live model were considered necessary.170 The first Conférences reveal in
their subjects and approach the central tenets of the Parisian Académie:
paintings by Raphael, Poussin, Le Brun and the Laocoön were meticulously
analysed in their parts according to strict rules: invention, expression,
composition, drawing, colour, proportions etc. Some Conférences were devoted to
specific parts of painting: one given by Le Brun in 1668, on the ‘passions of
the soul’, which was printed posthumously and translated into several
languages, constituted the basis for the study of facial expres- sions until
well into the 19th century.171 The Antique remained one of the favourite
subjects to be dissected by the academicians. After the 1667 Conférence on the
Laocoön (see Appendix, no. 12),172 praised as the ideal model for drawing and
for the ‘strong expressions of pain’,173 many more followed specifically
devoted to the Farnese Hercules, Belvedere Torso, Borghese Gladiator, and Venus
de’ Medici, the ultimate selected canon of sculptures.174 Conférences were also
given on the study of the Antique in general.175 Sébastien Bourdon’s (1616–71)
Conférence sur les proportions de la figure humaine expliquées sur l’Antique,
in 1670 advised students to fully absorb the Antique from a very early age,
measure precisely its proportions and control ‘compass in hand’ the Fig. 66.
Gian Lorenzo Bernini, Daniel in the Lion’s Den, 1655–57, marble, over
life-size, Chigi Chapel, Santa Maria del Popolo, Rome 45 live model
against classical sculptures, as they are never arbitrary – a method, according
to Bourdon, approved by Poussin.176 This extreme rationalistic approach, based
on the actual measurement of the Antique, which, as we will see, would generate
opposition, was put into practice by Gérard Audran (1640–1703), engraver and
‘conseiller’ of the Académie (Appendix, no. 13). His illustrated treatise of
1682 (figs 72–73) provided students with the carefully measured proportions of
the antique statues that they were supposed to follow and became a standard
reference work in many languages, continuously republished until 1855. While
the Académie de France in Rome must have started accumulating casts after the
Antique from early on – the inventory of 1684 lists a vast collection of
statues, reliefs, busts, etc.177 – it is not entirely clear how readily the
students of the Académie in Paris had access to casts or copies in the first
decades of the institution’s history. Bernini, in his 1665 visit, explicitly
advised the formation of a cast collection for the Parisian Académie, and some,
among them a Farnese Hercules, were ordered or donated in the following
years.178 But although students certainly copied casts already in Paris, full
immersion in the practice was reserved for the period they spent in Rome.179
‘Make the painters copy everything beautiful in Rome; and when they have
finished, if possible, make them do it again’ Colbert tellingly wrote in 1672
to Charles Errard (c. 1606–9 – 1689), the first Director of the Académie de
France in Rome.180 In Rome a similar practice was encouraged in the Accademia
di San Luca, which, like its Parisian counterpart, was significantly reformed
in the 1660s, perhaps a sign of the increasingly important reversal of
influence, from France to Italy. From the beginning of the presidency of Carlo
Maratti in 1664, a staged drawing curriculum, competitions and lectures were
implemented and new casts were ordered (see cat. 15).181 Some twenty years
later the Accademia received the donation of hundreds of casts of antique sculp-
tures from the studio of the sculptor and restorer Ercole Ferrata (1610–86).182
Sharing the same values and similar curricula, in 1676 the Accademia di San
Luca and the Parisian Académie Royale were formally amalgamated and on occa-
sion French painters even became principals of San Luca – Charles Errard in
1672 and 1678, and Charles Le Brun in 1676–77.183 But the Italians could never
feel wholly comforta- ble with the extreme rationalisation of art
characteristic of so much French theory.184 After the publication of the French
Conférences, debates were held in defence of the Vasarian tradi- tion and of
the value of grace, judgement and natural talent against the rules and the
overly rational analysis of art and the Antique by the French.185 The engraving
by Nicolas Dorigny (1658–1746) after Carlo Maratti is the most eloquent 46
visual expression of this intellectual confrontation that con- tinued into the
1680s (cat. 15). Some of the most doctrinal aspects of the Parisian academy
also generated an internal counteraction and the supporters of disegno,
classicism and Poussin, headed by Le Brun, were challenged by the promot- ers
of Venetian colore and Rubens, led by the artist and critic Roger de Piles
(1635–1709) and by the painter Charles de la Fosse (1636–1716). The battle
between ‘Poussinisme’ and ‘Rubénisme’ – a new incarnation of the debate started
more than a century earlier by Giorgio Vasari and Lodovico Dolce – captured the
imagination of the French academic world between the end of the 17th and the first
decade of the 18th centuries. The victory of the Rubénistes led the way to a
freer, anti-classicist and more painterly aesthetic and to the eventual
affirmation of the Rococo in French art.186 But the next century would also
witness the triumph of the classicist ideal, as its principles spread all over
Europe. The Antique Posed, Measured and Dissected Given the rationalistic
approach of French artists and theo- rists to the Antique – ‘compass in hand’ –
it does not come as a surprise that, during the 17th century, they actually
started to measure ancient statues in order to tabulate their pro- portions.
And as well as measuring statues they began to merge the study of anatomy with
study of the Antique to provide young students with ideal sets of muscles to
copy. Such efforts produced a series of extremely influential drawing-books
filled with fascinating and disturbing images, in which ancient bodies are
covered by nets of numbers or flayed and presented as living écorchés. In a way
it was inevitable that the study of human propor- tions applied by Alberti,
Leonardo and Dürer to living bodies Fig. 67. Peter Paul Rubens, Study of the
Farnese Hercules, c. 1602, pen and brown ink, 196 × 153 mm, The Courtauld
Gallery, Samuel Courtauld Trust, London, inv. D.1978.PG.427.v, Fig. 68. Charles
Errard, Antinous Belvedere, plate on p. 457 in Giovanni Pietro Bellori, Le vite
de’ pittori scultori e architetti moderni, Rome, 1672 would eventually be
merged with the study of the ideal bod- ies of ancient statues, to test Vitruvius’
assertion that ancient artists worked according to a fixed canon (Appendix, no.
1). The main problem was that the canonical proportions of 5th-century bc
sculpture had been disregarded from the 3rd century bc onwards. Furthermore, as
we now know, most of the ‘perfect’ Greek statues were actually modified Roman
copies of lost originals. The measuring efforts of 17th- century art theorists
were therefore for the most part in vain, as most of the revered marbles did
not embody the principles of commensurability and overall harmonic proportion
that they believed they did. Although we have seen that Raphael had already
initiated the practice of measuring statues (fig. 27), the first to refer
explicitly to this exercise is Armenini in his 1587 De veri precetti della
pittura, in which a chapter is devoted specifically to the ‘measure of man
based on the ancient statues’.187 Rubens also devoted much attention to trying
to discover the perfect num- bers and forms of ancient statues, dividing for
instance the Farnese Hercules, the strongest type of male body, according to
series of cubes, the most solid of the perfect forms (fig. 67).188 Not
surprisingly, Poussin’s approach to the Antique in Rome was similar, and we
know from Bellori that he and the sculptor François Duquesnoy (1597–1643)
‘embarked on the study of the beauty and proportion of statues, measuring them
together, as can be seen in the case of the one of Anti- nous’ – two
illustrations of which he published in Poussin’s life in his Vite (fig. 68).189
But the first artist to provide accurate drawings of the most famous statues
was the future founding director of the Académie de France in Rome, Charles
Errard, who, later, also provided the measured Antinous illustrations for
Bellori’s Vite (fig. 68). In collaboration with the theorist Roland Fréart de
Chambray (1606–76), and most likely inspired by Poussin, he executed in 1640 a
series of intriguing measured red chalk drawings today preserved at the École
des Beaux-Arts in Paris (figs 69–71).190 Produced only two years after the
publication Fig. 69. Charles Errard, or collaborator,
Measured Drawing of the Belvedere Antinous, 1640, red chalk, pencil, pen and
brown ink, 430 × 280 mm, École nationale supérieure des Beaux-Arts, Paris, inv.
PC6415, no. 27 Fig. 70. Charles Errard, Measured Drawing of the Laocoön, 1640,
red chalk, pen and brown ink, 430 × 280 mm, École nationale supérieure des
Beaux-Arts, Paris, inv. PC6415, no. 11 Fig. 71. Charles Errard, Measured
Drawing of the Venus de’Medici, 1640, red chalk, pencil, pen and brown ink, 430
× 280 mm, École nationale supérieure des Beaux-Arts, Paris, inv. PC6415, no. 28
47 of Perrier’s successful Segmenta, Errard’s drawings were clearly
intended to be published and to present young artists with a set of certain and
ideal proportions on which they could base their own figures. A similar search
for discipline was undertaken by Fréart de Chambray, and later by other
theorists, among the remains of ancient architecture, which involved an even
more intense effort to discover their ‘perfect’ proportions. Although a few of
Errard’s drawings were published in 1656 by Abraham Bosse – the first professor
of perspective of the Parisian Académie Royale – the first successful manuals
appeared in the 1680s, as a result of the theoretical debates on the
proportions of ancient statues held in the Académie during the previous
decade.191 By far the most influential was a manual we have already
encountered, Gérard Audran’s Proportions du corps humain mesurées sur les plus
belles figures de l’antiquité, published in 1683 (Appendix, no. 13). This
provided a fully ‘classicised’ drawing-book, following the ‘alphabet of
drawing’ from the measured eye, nose and mouth of the Apollo Belvedere (fig.
72), to whole canonical statues, such as the Laocoön (fig. 73). Audran’s book,
republished several times in various languages, became the model for many
similar publications that appeared during the 18th and early 19th centuries and
espoused a practice embraced by many artists. Examples from different nations
include a Dutch manual, where, fascinatingly, the Apollo Belvedere is presented
according to Vitruvian principles (fig. 74; see also fig. 2 and Appendix, no.
1); drawings by the sculptor Joseph Nollekens (1737–1823; fig. 75); and measured
notes drawn by Antonio Canova over an engraving of the Apollo Belvedere from a
didactic series of prints after the Antique (fig. 76).192 In addition to being
carefully measured, antique bodies were also dissected. If classical statues
displayed perfect anat- omies, then, it was thought, they would offer an ideal
starting point for young students to study bones and muscles. Combining the
study of the Antique with that of anatomy was intended to reinforce the
familiarity of young artists with ancient canonical models, now also analysed
from the inside. Students until then had trained mainly on the immensely
influential De humani corporis fabrica, published by Andrea Vesalius in 1543,
and on the anatomical treatises that were based on it, but from the late 17th
century new ‘classicised’ manuals appeared.193 The first, Anatomia per uso et
intelligenza del disegno... , based on drawings by Errard, was published in
1691 by Bernardino Genga (1655–1720), professor of anatomy at the Académie de
France in Rome.194 Probably conceived much earlier, the set of engravings
included fascinating and somewhat morbid images of the skeletons of classical
statues (figs 77–78; although these were not eventually included in the book)
and several different views of the muscles of the strongest types of ancient
prototypes, the Laocoön, the Borghese Gladiator, the Farnese Hercules and the
Borghese Faun (figs 79–80).195 Genga and Errard’s Anatomia was a model for
several similar books which appeared in the 18th and early 19th centuries to
satisfy the needs of the increasingly classicistic curricula of European
academies. Not surprisingly, only male antiquities, and usually the most
muscular ones, were illustrated, both for reasons of decorum and also because
the Fig. 74. Jacob de Wit, Measured ‘Apollo Belvedere’, plate 8 in Teekenboek
der proportien van ‘t menschelyk lighaam, Amsterdam, 1747 Fig. 75. Joseph
Nollekens, Measured Drawing of the ‘Capitoline Antinous’, 1770, pen and brown
ink over traces of black chalk, 431 × 292 mm, Ashmolean Museum, Oxford, inv.
DBB 1460 Fig. 76. Giovanni Volpato and Rafaello Morghen, Measured ‘Apollo
Belvedere’, engraving (with inscribed measures in pencil, red chalk, pen and
brown ink by Antonio Canova), post 1786, plate 35 in Principi del disegno. Tratti
dall più eccellenti statue antiche per il giovanni che vogliono incamminarsi
nello studio delle belle arti, Rome, 1786, Museo Civico, Bassano del Grappa,
inv. B 42.69 Audran, Measured Details of the ‘Apollo Belvedere’, plate 27
in Les Proportions du corps humain mesurées sur les plus belles figures de
l’antiquité, Paris, 1683 Fig. 73. Gérard Audran, Measured ‘Laocoön’, plate 1 in
Les Proportions du corps humain mesurées sur les plus belles figures de
l’antiquité, Paris, 1683 48 49 Fig. 77. (above left) After Charles Errard, The
Skeleton of the ‘Laocoön’, c. 1691, engraving, 328 × 198 mm, Bibliothèque des
Arts décoratifs, Paris, Album Maciet 2-4 (4) Fig. 78. (above centre) After
Charles Errard, The Skeleton of the ‘Borghese Gladiator’, c. 1691, engraving, 334
× 280 mm, Bibliothèque des Arts décoratifs, Paris, Album Maciet 2-4 (1) Fig.
79. (above right) After Charles Errard, Anatomical Figure of the ‘Borghese
Gladiator’, c. 1691, plate 51 in Bernardino Genga and Charles Errard, Anatomia
per uso et intelligenza del disegno . . . , Rome, 1691 Fig. 80. (left) After
Charles Errard, Anatomical Figure of the ‘Laocoön’, c. 1691, plate 43 in
Bernardino Genga and Charles Errard, Anatomia per uso et intelligenza del
disegno . . . , Rome, 1691 male body was believed to provide more
anatomical infor- mation compared to the female one. One of the most dis-
turbingly accurate, printed in two colours to distinguish the muscles from the
bones, is the Anatomie du Gladiateur combatant ... published in 1812 by the
military surgeon Jean- Galbert Salvage (1772–1813). Although this provided a
precise anatomical analysis of the head of the Apollo Belvedere (fig. 81), its
main focus was on the anatomy of the Borghese Gladiator analysed in all its
parts (fig. 82). The accuracy of the manual’s plates made it extremely
influential throughout Europe.196 Fig. 81. Nicolaï Ivanovitch Outkine after
Jean-Galbert Salvage, Muscles and Bones of the Head of the ‘Apollo Belvedere’,
engraving in two colours, plate 1 in Jean Galbert Salvage, Anatomie du
Gladiateur combatant ..., Paris, 1812 Fig. 82. Jean Bosq after Jean-Galbert
Salvage, Anatomical Figure of the ‘Borghese Gladiator’, engraving in two
colours, plate 6 in Jean Galbert Salvage, Anatomie du Gladiateur combatant ...,
Paris, 1812 50 The stress on anatomical precision also produced a spectacu- lar
three-dimensional écorché of the Borghese Gladiator created by Salvage in 1804
and acquired as a teaching tool in 1811 by the École des Beaux-Arts, where it
remains (fig. 83).197 An earlier model, which had served as inspiration for
Salvage, was the gruesomely naturalistic écorché posed as the Dying Gladiator
(see fig. 55) made by William Hunter (1718– 83), the professor of anatomy at
the Royal Academy of Arts in London, in collaboration with the sculptor
Agostino Carlini. Casted on the body of an executed smuggler, it was aptly
Latinised as Smugglerius.198 The Antique found its way into academic anatomical
manuals for students throughout the 19th century, and its pervasiveness was
enormous, extending even beyond Western culture. A plate with a flayed Laocoön
from the popu- lar Anatomie des formes extérieures du corps humain, published
in 1845 by Antoine-Louis-Julien Fau (fig. 85), served as inspira- tion for a
popular artists’ manual produced in Japan at the end of the century, resulting
in an extraordinary image which fuses the Western canon and the Japanese
woodblock print tradition of the Ukiyo-e (fig. 86).199 The osmosis between the
Antique and other disciplines of the academic curriculum gained ground also in
the study of the live model. We have seen that already in the 15th century it
was common practice to pose apprentices in imitation of ancient sculpture (see
fig. 14), and great artists like Rubens often returned to this expedient (see
cat. 9). But the practice became increasingly diffused within the codified
curricula of French and Italian academies during the 17th and 18th centuries
(figs 87–89). Recommended by several Fig. 83. Jean-Galbert Salvage, Écorché of
the ‘Borghese Gladiator’, 1804, plaster, 157 cm (h), École nationale supérieure
des Beaux-Arts, Paris, inv. MU11927 Fig. 84. (top left) William Pink after
Agostino Carlini, Smugglerius, c. 1775 (this copy c. 1834), painted plaster,
75.5 × 148.6 cm, Royal Academy of Arts, London, inv. 03/1436
Fig. 85. (middle left) M. Léveillé, Anatomical Figure of the ‘Laocoön’,
lithography, plate 24 in Antoine-Louis-Julien Fau, Anatomie des formes
extérieures du corps humain, Paris, 1845 Fig. 86. (middle right) Anatomical
Figures of the ‘Laocoön’ and of a Small Child, woodblock print, plate in
Kawanabe Kyo-sai, Kyosai Gadan, 1887 Fig. 87. (bottom left)
Antoine Paillet, Drawing of a Model Posing as the ‘Laocoön’, 1670, black and
white chalk on brown paper, 580 × 521 mm, École nationale supérieure des
beaux-arts, Paris, inv. EBA 3098 Fig. 88. (bottom centre) Giuseppe Bottani,
Drawing of a Model in the Pose of the ‘Lycean Apollo’ Type, c. 1760–70, red and
white chalks on red-orange prepared paper, 423 × 270 mm, Philadelphia Museum of
Art, inv. 1978-70-197 Fig. 89. (bottom right) Jacques-Luois David, An Academic
Model in the Pose of the ‘Dying Gaul’, 1780, oil on canvas, 125 × 170 cm, Musée
Thomas Henry, Cherbourg, inv. MTH 835.102 51 academicians, posing the
live model with the same tension and flexing of muscles as the ancient statues
encouraged students to correct their drawings after fallible Nature against the
perfection of the antique examples and to derive universal principles from
particular living models (see cats 16 and 27b).200 The Eighteenth Century and
the Diffusion of the Classical Ideal The seeds planted by 17th-century
classicist theory fully blossomed during the 18th with the affirmation of Neo-
classicism in the second half of the century. Supported by and supporting the
exponential diffusion of academies – from some nineteen in 1720 to more than
100 in 1800 – the cult of the Antique spread to the four corners of Europe,
from St Petersburg to Lisbon and beyond.201 The ‘true style’, as classicism was
often called in the 18th century, was inextri- cably linked with many of the
values of Enlightenment culture: in an age in search of order and universal
principles, the appeal of the rational and ‘eternal’ ideals embodied by
classical statuary proved irresistible. At the same time they provided a useful
tool for existing political powers and a for- midable one for new authorities
in search of legitimisation. The new academies based their curricula mainly on
that of Paris and Rome, and the didactic role assigned to the Antique was
physically imported through an army of plaster casts – the ‘Apostles of good
taste’ – as Denis Diderot called them, which became the most recognisable
trademark of the newly founded institutions (fig. 90).202 The progressive
method of the ‘alphabet of drawing’ definitively established itself as the
basis of the training of European artists well into the 20th century. Not
necessarily followed in practice, as students often wanted to rush to the copy
of the live model, its didactic value was, in Fig. 90. After Augustin Terwesten,
The Life Academy at the Royal Academy of Fine Arts in Berlin, engraved vignette
on p. 217 from Lorenz Beger, Thesaurus Brandenburgicus Selectus..., vol. 3,
Berlin, 1701 theory, supported by the vast majority of academies.203 The plate
illustrating the entry on ‘Drawing’ in Diderot and D’Alembert’s epochal
Encyclopédie significantly focuses on the three steps, being followed in
different media (fig. 91).204 While the French model was spreading throughout
Europe during the first half of the century, ironically the Parisian Académie
itself underwent a period of crisis. After the death of Colbert in 1683 and of
Le Brun in 1690, the royal institution became decreasingly relevant in
determining the direction of the national school of painting. Financial constraints
and the waning of royal patronage coincided with the fact that the vital forces
of French art were becoming less interested in adhering to the precepts of the
Académie. A change in taste under the regency of Philippe d’Orléans (r.
1715–23) favoured the so-called petite manière, a form of painting dealing with
light-hearted subjects – ‘bergeries’, ‘fêtes galantes’ – against the grande
manière. Partly as a conse- quence, the traditional curriculum of the Académie,
centred on the study of the human figure to prepare for history painting, was
increasingly neglected.205 But things changed radically in 1745 with the
appointment of Charles-François- Paul Le Normant de Tournehem – the uncle of
Madame de Pompadour – as Surintendant des Bâtiments du Roi, the official
protector of the Académie Royale on behalf of the king. He initiated a reform
involving the reinvigoration of royal patronage, the re-establishment of
Conférences and, more generally, a series of initiatives aimed at
re-establishing the leading role of the Académie and of history painting in the
French art world.206 The principles of Le Normant’s reform, supported by the
influential antiquarian and theorist Comte de Caylus (1692–1765) and visualised
by Charles-Joseph Natoire’s beautiful drawing (cat. 16), paved the way for the
final affirmation of the grande manière in the second half of the century,
despite the continuing clamour of dissenting voices. If Paris progressively
became the centre of the modern art world, Rome retained its status as the ‘academy’
of Europe Fig. 91. Benoît-Louis Prévost after Charles-Nicolas Cochin the
younger, A Drawing School, plate 1, illustrating the entry ‘Dessein’ from Denis
Diderot and Jean Le Ronde D’Alambert, Encyclopédie ..., Recueil de planches,
sur les sciences, les art libéraux, et les arts méchaniques ..., Paris, 1763,
vol. 20 where a thriving international community of artists congre- gated to
round off their education in the physical and spirit- ual presence of the
Antique and the great Renaissance masters.207 The crucial role that Rome
occupied in 18th- century culture is evoked in the words of the most famous art
critic of the age and the champion of classicism Johann Joachim Winckelmann
(1717–68): ‘Rome’ he wrote in his letters ‘is the high school for all the
world, and I also have 208 been purified and tried in it’. Of course, artists
and travel- lers had visited the city to study its art for at least two centu-
ries, but the 18th century represented Rome’s golden age as the traveller’s
ultimate destination. The Grand Tour – as the trip to Italy and to Rome was
known – became a social and cultural phenomenon that included artists,
antiquarians, collectors and, in general, members of European elites.209 It
generated an industry of collectibles that travellers could bring back to their
homeland, and an army of original ancient statues and modern copies in all
media was exported, alongside portraits and paintings of various kinds that
would powerfully recall the time spent by their owners in the eternal city. Among
the most fascinating and systematic evocations of Rome are a series of
celebrated canvases by Giovanni Paolo Panini (1691–1765), where ‘the best of
the best’ of Roman sites and antiquities are gathered together in imaginary
galleries. In the foreground of fig. 92, (see also cat. 20, fig. 5) artists are
busy drawing and measuring with their compasses a selected choice of canonical
classical statues – a reminder of one of the most widespread artistic
activities in the city.210 The demands of the Grand Tour ‘industry’ also
generated a specific category of ‘marketable drawings’ after the Antique
destined to fill the ‘paper museums’ of collectors and anti- quarians all over
Europe. They were mainly produced for collectors and travellers from Britain, a
nation that became increasingly important in the study of the Antique through-
out the century. Among the most famous drawings were those produced in the
workshop of the entrepreneurial painter Francesco Ferdinandi Imperiali
(1679–1740) in the 1720s by various painters and draughtsmen – among them
Giovanni Domenico Campiglia (1692–1775; see cats 19–20) and the young Pompeo
Batoni (1708–87; fig. 93).211 Created for the extensive collection of the
antiquarian Richard Topham 52 53 Fig. 92. Giovanni Paolo Panini,
Roma Antica, 1754–57, oil on canvas, 186 × 227 cm, Staatsgalerie Stuttgart,
inv. Nr 3315 (1671–1730), Batoni’s red chalk drawings are among the most
extraordinary produced in the 18th century. With their preci- sion, attention
to detail, fidelity to the originals and frontal viewpoint, they encapsulate
many of the typical qualities of this category of drawings. Their manner
continues and devel- ops some of the characteristics already seen in the
classicist drawings of Carlo Maratti, of whom Batoni was the natural artistic
heir (figs 60–61). Growing interest in the classical past was also supported by
massive expansion in antiquarian publications, such as the monumental Antiquité
expliquée (Paris, 1719–24) by the Abbé Bernard de Montfaucon, an illustrated encyclopaedia
of the Antique for the use of the European educated public. Artists could also
benefit from an increase in printed collec- tions of classical statues.212
Paolo Alessandro Maffei and Domenico de Rossi’s Raccolta di Statue Antiche e
Moderne (1704) set new standards of accuracy, and it was followed by the
various sumptuous volumes devoted to the antiquities of the Grand Ducal
collection in Florence and of the Capitoline Museum in Rome (see cats 19–20).
With its wealth of patrons, artistic competitions, acade- mies and artists’
studios, many displaying collections of casts, Rome also offered an unrivalled
opportunity to learn and practice the arts of disegno.213 The classicist
direction given to the Accademia di San Luca by Giovanni Pietro Bellori and Carlo
Maratti, was sanctioned by the Pope Clement XI (r. 1700–21) who in 1702
established papal- supported competitions, the celebrated Concorsi Clementini,
which thrived especially during the second half of the century (see cat.
20).214 Open to all nationalities, the Concorsi Fig. 93. Pompeo Batoni, Drawing
of the Ceres of Villa Casali, c. 1730, red chalk, 469 × 350 mm, Eton College
Library, Windsor, inv. Bn. 3, no. 45 were divided into three classes of
increasing difficulty, the third and lowest class being reserved for copying,
usually after the Antique (see cat. 20, fig. 4). This reinforced, as nowhere
else in Europe, the study of classical statuary as the cornerstone of the
artist’s education, giving to Italian and foreign artists alike the chance to be
rewarded publicly in sumptuous ceremonies held in the Capitoline palaces, even
in early stages of their careers. The cosmopolitan atmos- phere of the
Accademia di San Luca is reflected in the fact that among its Principals were
several foreigners, such as the Frenchman Charles-François Poerson (elected
1714) or the Saxon Anton Raphael Mengs (1771–2) and the Austrian Anton von
Maron (1784–6). The Accademia was also open to leading women painters such as
Rosalba Carriera (1675–1757) or Elisabeth-Louise Vigée Le Brun (1755–1842),
although they were not allowed to attend meetings. Crucial for artistic
education was the opening of the Capitoline as a public museum in 1734, thanks
to the enlight- ened policy of Pope Clement XII (r. 1730–40).215 One of the main
reasons behind the papal decision was specifically to support ‘the practice and
advancement of young students of the Liberal Arts’ through the copy of the
Antique.216 An evocative vignette inserted in the Musei Capitolini – the first
sumptuously illustrated catalogue of the collection – reflects the popularity
of its cluttered rooms among artists of all nations (see cat. 20). With the
opening in the Capitoline of the Accademia del Nudo in 1754 – specifically
devoted to the study of the live model and controlled by the Acca- demia di San
Luca – the museum became a sort of ideal academy where art students could copy
concurrently from the Antique, Old Masters paintings and the live model.217
Apart from the Capitoline and other traditional places, such as the Belvedere
Court or the aristocratic palaces where original antiquities could be studied
in situ (cat. 21), the other favoured locus for the study of the Antique in the
city was the Académie de France in Rome, which owned the largest collection of
plaster casts in Europe. Although the Académie, like its Parisian counterpart,
had gone through a troubled period in the early decades of the century – the
Prix de Rome was cancelled for lack of funds in 1706–8, 1714 and 1718–20 – its
role was revamped and its practices drastically reformed under the directorship
of Nicholas Vleughels (1668–1737) between 1725 and 1737.218 The casts were
redisplayed in Palazzo Mancini, the Académie’s prestigious new location on the
Corso, and integrated for didactic purposes with the study of the live model
(see cat. 16). The collection of the Académie served as an example for similar
institutions throughout Europe, as its arrangement of many copies side- by-side
was considered ideal for the assimilation of classical forms. With the advancing
neo-classical aesthetic, their flawless white appearance was even preferred for
didactic purposes above the originals: young students could concen- trate on
their purified forms, without the signs of time shown by real antiquities. No
other nation had as many members in Rome as France, both as pensionnaires of
the Académie and permanent residents (see cats 17–18, 21).219 The long
directorship of Charles-Joseph Natoire, between 1751 and 1775, greatly devel-
oped and expanded the copying of antiquities that had been reinstated by
Vleughels. But Natoire also encouraged the creation of ‘classical’ landscapes
of the Roman campagna, following the principles established by the great
17th-century French landscapists: Poussin, Dughet and Claude.220 Natoire and his
most gifted and prolific pupil, Hubert Robert (1733– 1808), who spent more than
a decade in Rome between 1754 and 1765, produced a series of drawings in which
copy- ing in the city’s museums and palaces is splendidly evoked (figs 94–97
and cat. 17).221 Focused in particular on the Capitoline collection, Robert’s
images are among the most fascinating products of a genre – that of the artist
drawing in situ surrounded by classical statues – that, as we know, goes back
to the 16th century (see cat. 5 and fig. 44). Robert specialised in evocative
views of the remains of ancient Rome, with artists and wanderers lost among
their crumbling grandeur. In many ways he recaptured the spirit of wonder and
meditation on the ruins of the city expressed by 16th-century Northern artists,
such as Maarten van Heemskerck, Herman Posthumus, and Nicolas Beatrizet (fig.
44).222 Boosted by the enthusiasm generated by the unearthing of the remains of
Herculaneum and Pompeii in 1738 and 1748, in the second half of the century the
‘true style’ of Neo-classicism firmly established itself, spreading from the
international community in Rome to the whole of Europe. Significant figures in
the formulation of the new taste were the architect and engraver Giovanni
Battista Piranesi (1720– 78), whose lyrical etchings and engravings of ancient
and modern Rome established – and sometimes created – the image of Rome among a
European public, and the art historian Johann Joachim Winckelmann, whose
powerful descriptions of classical statues inspired generations of artists and
travellers, firmly establishing a new classicist doctrine in European taste.223
More than ever before, artists now aimed not only at assimilating the
principles of classical sculpture, but at recreating its formal aspect, as a
universal standard of perfection to which any great artist should aspire.
54 55 Fig. 94. Charles-Joseph Natoire, Artists Drawing in the Inner
Courtyard of the Capitoline Museum in Rome, 1759, pen and brown ink, brown and
grey wash, white highlights over black chalk lines on tinted grey-blue paper,
300 × 450 mm, Louvre, Paris, inv. 3931381 Robert, The Draughtsman at the
Capitoline Museum, c. 1763, red chalk, 335 × 450 mm, Musée des Beaux-Arts et
d’Archéologie de Valence, inv. D. 80 Fig. 96. Hubert Robert, Antiquities at the
Capitoline Museum, c. 1763, red chalk, 345 × 450 mm, Musée des Beaux-Arts et
d’Archéologie de Valence, inv. D. 81 Fig. 97. Hubert Robert, The Draughtsman of
the Borghese Vase, c. 1765, red chalk, 365 × 290 mm, Musée des Beaux-Arts et
d’Archéologie de Valence, inv. D28 As Winckelmann famously stated in his
Reflections on the Painting and Sculpture of the Greeks (1755): ‘There is but
one way for the moderns to become great, and perhaps unequalled; I mean, by
imitating the ancients’ (see Appendix, no. 15). Although in 1775 new
regulations for the Académie de France in Rome stressed again the centrality in
the curriculum of study of the live model, most pupils now favoured the study
of the Antique, an evident sign of the evolution of taste towards a new radical
classicism.224 Of all the artists converging on Rome, Jacques-Louis David
(1748–1825), was one of the most prolific in making copies after the
Antique.225 Leaving Paris in 1775 with the firm resolution of maintaining his
independence and avoiding the seductions of the Antique, his arrival in Rome,
according to his own words, opened his eyes.226 He started his artistic
education again by spending the next five years as a pension- naire obsessively
copying from modern masters and classical statues, reliefs and sarcophagi with
an attention to detail that recalls Poussin’s approach to antiquity (fig.
98).227 Generally speaking, between the end of the 18th century and the
beginning of the 19th, artists copying from the Antique concentrated progressively
on the outlines of statues rather than on the modelling or the chiaroscuro, as
the neo-classical aesthetic valued the purity of the line over any other
pictorial element, accentuating the stress on disegno inaugurated by Vasari
more than two centuries before. Fig. 98. Jacques-Louis David, Drawing of a
Relief with a Distraught Woman with Her Head Thrown Back, 1775/80, pen and
black ink with gray wash over black chalk, 196 × 150 mm, National Gallery of
Art, Washington D.C., Patrons’ Permanent Fund1998.105.1.bbb But coinciding with
David’s residence in Rome, other interpretations of the Antique started to
emerge within a circle of artists that included Tobias Sergel (1740–1814) and
Thomas Banks (1735–1805) and which revolved around the Swiss painter Henry
Fuseli (1741–1825).228 The approach of this ‘Poetical circle’ was utterly
anti-academic and prefigures some of the principles that would be embraced by
Romantic artists a few years later. For them ancient sculptures were
embodiments of the emotions of the artists who created them, rather than models
of ideal beauty and proportional perfection. Fuseli’s extraordinary drawing,
The Artist Moved by the Grandeur of Antique Fragments (cat. 22), which he
produced immediately after leaving Rome in 1778, perfectly expresses this more
empathic and meditative relation with classical antiquity and its lost
grandeur. The attitude of Fuseli and his friends represents a turning point in
the relation of the artist with ancient statuary, stressing the creative genius
of the artist, his or her individuality and, in general, the subjective values
of art: all principles that would contribute to the decline of the classical
model in the following century. The Antique in Britain: The eighteenth century
Of the various nationalities of artists resident in Rome during the 18th
century, the British were among the most numerous. Britain had arrived late on
the international artistic stage. Until the late 17th century, several factors,
including the theological disapproval of pagan and Catholic imagery of large
sections of Protestant society, had made Britain, outside the confined
patronage of the Court, a virtual backwater in the visual arts. There was no
established national school of painting or sculpture and no academy; painters were
tied to the craft guild of the Painter Stainers’ Company; it was illegal to
import pictures for sale, and there was no proper art market.229 However, by a
century later, things had changed radically: following the nation’s dramatic
political liberalisa- tion and economic expansion, Britain had one of the most
dynamic national art schools in Europe and a Royal Acad- emy, founded in 1768.
Several hundred thousand artworks – including a multitude of original
antiquities and copies – had been imported to adorn the urban townhouses and
country mansions of the upper classes; and London had become the centre of the
international art market, displacing Antwerp, Amsterdam and Paris.230 The new
ruling class that had emerged from the Glorious Revolution of 1688 embraced
classicism, defined as the ‘Rule of Taste’; at the same time artists started
gathering to form private academies where they could study together and where
beginners could receive at least some training, based, 56 57 of course,
on the continental model, with the copy after the Antique as one of its
cornerstones.231 Many British artists also travelled to Rome, where they
participated in the Concorsi of the Accademia di San Luca or attended the
Accademia del Nudo in the Capitoline and several built national and interna-
tional reputations thanks to their success in the city.232 In Rome,
furthermore, artists encountered British travellers and potential future
patrons. Plaster casts must already have been relatively widely available
during the first half of the 18th century.233 Drawings after classical
sculptures survive by British artists who did not travel to Italy: among them
some fascinating, rough, early studies by Joseph Highmore (1692–1780), possibly
from casts in the Great Queen Street Academy – which operated under Sir Godfrey
Kneller and Sir James Thornhill between 1711 and 1720 – where he enrolled in
1713 (fig. 99).234 But the insular situation of the British art world, where
many painters struggled in vain to create a modern and national school and
genre of painting, plus an innate distrust of cultural models imported from the
Continent, especially France, meant that copying the Antique encountered strong
criticism. The most vociferous opponent was William Hogarth, who, as director
of the second St Martin’s Lane Academy from 1735, became increasingly hostile
to a curriculum based on the French Académie model and to history painting in
general, although, paradoxically, he demonstrated great admiration for a few
classical statues in his writings (see Appendix, no. 14).235 His war against
fashionable imported taste and didactic principles is well Fig. 99. Joseph
Highmore, Study of a Cast of the Borghese Gladiator, Seen from Behind, c. 1713,
graphite, ink and watercolour on paper, 354 × 230 mm, Tate, London, inv. T04232
expressed by the celebrated first plate in his Analysis of Beauty (1753), where
the Antique, anatomy and the study of proportions evocated in the centre of the
composition are surrounded by vignettes illustrating Hogarth’s own aesthetic ideas
(fig. 100).236 But despite such discontented voices, fascination with the
Antique would only intensify, and educational curricula based on French or
Italian models would gradually impose themselves. In 1758, a ‘continental’
enterprise was launched by the 3rd Duke of Richmond with the opening of a
gallery attached to his house in Whitehall ‘containing a large collec- tion of
original plaister casts from the best antique statues and busts which are now
at Rome and Florence’.237 With a curriculum based on the ‘alphabet of drawing’
and under the directorship of the Italian painter Giovanni Battista Cipriani
(1727–85) and the sculptor Joseph Wilton (1722–1803) – the first Englishman to
receive, in 1750, the prestigious first prize of the Accademia di San Luca –
the gallery was set up specifically with the didactic purpose of training
youths on the basis of the Antique (fig. 101).238 To compensate for the absence
of a national Academy, a semi-formal system developed probably inspired by the
joint model of the Accademia di San Luca and the Capitoline, where many British
artists had worked.239 Students would have started by copying drawings, prints
and parts of the body in the private drawing school set up in 1753 by the
entrepreneur and drawing master William Shipley (1714– 1803); they would then
progress to the Duke of Richmond’s Academy when they were ready to study
three-dimensional forms; finally they would proceed to the study of the live
model in the second St Martin Lane’s Academy.240 Competi- tions were set up and
the Society for the Encouragement of Arts, Manufactures and Commerce, which was
founded Fig. 100. William Hogarth, The Analysis of Beauty (Plate 1), 1753,
etching and engraving, 387 × 483 mm, private collection, London Fig. 101. John
Hamilton Mortimer, Self-portrait with Joseph Wilton, and an Unknown Student
Drawing at the Duke of Richmond’s Academy, c. 1760–65, oil on canvas, 76 × 63.5
cm, Royal Academy of Arts, London, inv. 03/970 in 1754, awarded prizes for the
best drawings after casts and copies, several of which survive in the
institution’s archive (figs 102–03).241 The continental system also reached
cities outside London. For example, academies and artists’ societies were set
up in Glasgow – in an image of the Foulis Academy of Art and Design founded
there in 1752 we see the familiar presence of the Borghese Gladiator (fig. 104)
– and in Liverpool (see cat. 24).242 But it was with the foundation of the
Royal Academy in London in 1768 that Britain finally had a national institution
with a formal curriculum based on continental models (see cats 25–27). Directed
by Sir Joshua Reynolds (1723–92) – its first president between 1768 and 1792 –
the Academy had a teaching structure that centred on the Antique or ‘Plaister’
Academy and the Life Academy, to which students would progress after having
practised for years on plaster casts.243 To advance from one stage to another,
they had to supply a presentation drawing showing their skills in depicting
antique forms: one by the young Turner (1775–1851), who enrolled in the Academy
in 1789 as a boy of fourteen, proba- bly belongs to this category (cat. 27a).
Several evocative images testify to the study of the growing collection of
plaster casts, both in daylight and at night (fig. 105 and cats 25–27),244
while the Life Academy is evoked in the famous painting by Johan Zoffany
(1733–1810) which shows the first academicians in discussion around two male
models – one glancing at us in the pose of the Spinario – surrounded by
familiar plaster casts of classical and Renaissance sculpture (fig. 106). In
the background, on the right, an écorché appears among the other casts, to
remind us that anatomy lessons were delivered in the Academy by the physician
William Hunter (1718–83). By bringing together plaster casts, anatomy and the
study of the live model, Zoffany’s image declared unmistakably the Royal
Academy’s affinity with continental academic models of teaching. The two female
members, Mary Moser (1744–1819) and Angelica Kauffmann (1741–1807) are evoked
through their portraits, as their presence in the Life Academy was considered
improper.245 A system of discourses, competitions and exhibitions, complemented
and completed the teaching curriculum. The official theoretical line of the
Academy, fixed in Reynolds’ celebrated Discourses – which were delivered
between 1769 and 1790 – was a distillation of the idealistic theory of the
previous centuries and included frequent references to the Antique (see
Appendix, no. 17). Reynolds’ highest praise was reserved for the Belvedere
Torso, which embodied the Fig. 102. William Peters, Study of a Cast of the
‘Borghese Gladiator’, c. 1760, pencil, black and white chalk on coloured paper,
410 × 450 mm, Royal Society of Arts, London, inv. PR/AR/103/14/621 Fig. 103.
William Peters, Study of a Cast of the ‘Callipygian Venus’, c. 1760, pencil,
black and white chalk on coloured paper, 525 × 355 mm, Royal Society of Arts,
London, inv. PR/AR/103/14/669 58 59 Fig. 104.
David Allan, The Foulis Academy of Art and Design in Glasgow, c. 1760,
engraving, 134 × 168 mm, Mitchell Library, Glasgow, inv. GC ILL 156 Fig. 105.
Anonymous British School, The Antique School of the Royal Academy at New
Somerset House, c. 1780–83, oil on canvas, 110.8 x 164.1 cm, Royal Academy of
Arts, London, inv. 03/846 Fig. 106. Johan Zofany, The Portraits of the
Academicians of the Royal Academy, 1771–72, oil on canvas, 100.1 × 147.5 cm,
The Royal Collection, Windsor Castle ‘superlative genius’ of ancient art, and
this judgement is reflected in the official iconography of the Royal Academy,
as the Torso appeared, significantly below the word ‘Study’, on the silver
medals awarded in the Academy’s competitions (see cat. 27a).246 The muscular
fragment reappears as well in one of the female allegories of Invention,
Composition, Design and Colour, commissioned by the Royal Academy from Angelica
Kauffman in 1778 to decorate the ceiling of the Academy’s new Council Chamber
and to provide a visual manifesto for Reynolds’ theory of art (fig. 107).247
Showing her wit and erudition, Kauffman’s Design is a significant image, as she
took the traditional personification of Disegno, depicted as male (the word is
masculine in Italian), and transformed it into a woman copying the ideal male
body – thereby asserting the right of women to study the Antique and pursue a
traditional artistic career. Although increasingly questioned by anatomists and
by a growing number of artists, plaster casts were used in the Academy’s
curriculum well into the 19th century and beyond. In London the didactic role
of original sculptures and casts was also exploited outside official
institutions. This was the case of the antiquities assembled by the influential
antiquar- ian and collector Charles Townley (1737–1805) at his house on 7 Park
Street, which became a sort of alternative academy where artists, amateurs –
and also women – could study the statues he had imported from Italy (cat.
28).248 Another private space set up with the specific intention of training
young architects in the study of the Antique was the house- academy established
by Sir John Soane (1754–1837) at No. 13 Lincoln’s Inn Fields (cat. 29). In the
labyrinthine spaces of Soane’s interiors, which were constantly enlarged to
house Fig. 107. Angelica Kaufman, Design, 1778–80, oil on canvas, 130 × 150.3
cm, Royal Academy of Arts, London, inv. 03/1129 his growing collections, he
obsessively juxtaposed paintings, architectural fragments, copies of celebrated
classical statues, drawings and objects of all sorts.249 Architecture,
sculpture and painting were seamlessly integrated to create a whole and to
express the qualities of ‘variety and intricacy’, advocated by Reynolds in his
13th Discourse (1786). This variety was intended to stimulate the imagination
of Soane’s students – in 1806 he was appointed the Royal Academy’s Professor of
Architecture – and to invite would-be architects not to limit themselves but to
train in the three sister arts, as recommended by Vitruvius.250 Academic
training continued as students gathered to copy the Antique in the newly built
galleries of the British Museum,251 but, as the 19th century progressed, its
authority faded dramatically as young artists looked increasingly to the modern
world for their inspiration. Dissenting Voices and Seeds of Decline The linear
evolution of the classical ideal from the early Renaissance to the beginning of
the 19th century was in reality punctuated by several opposing voices. But none
of them, with rare exceptions, ever questioned the greatness and authority of
classical art. What was at times disputed was the didactic value of copying
from the Antique or the slavish dependence on its forms demonstrated by some of
the most dogmatic devotees of classicism. We have seen that even in the 16th
century, art critics like Vasari, Dolce and Armenini had warned against
excessive dependence on classical forms and had advocated an independent and
creative approach based on the artist’s own judgement. Rubens and Bernini too
had warned against the ‘smell of stone’ in painting or psycho- logical dependence
on the model. This balanced approach to the Antique would become a leitmotif
among later genera- tions of art theorists. Furthermore, artistic traditions
outside Central Italy had always demonstrated a good dose of scepticism towards
the dependence of the Florentine and Roman schools on the forms and ideals
embodied by classical statuary. One of the most intelligent expressions of this
attitude is the famous woodcut by Nicolò Boldrini, almost certainly after an
original drawing by Titian, in which Laocoön and his sons are transformed into
three monkeys and set in a bucolic landscape (fig. 108).252 In this complex
image Titian, one of the greatest creative geniuses of the Renaissance, who
him- self had a profound and fruitful relationship with the Antique, was
presumably issuing an ironic statement against the faithful artistic imitation
of the classical models – a behav- iour similar to that of mimicking monkeys.
Fig. 108. Nicolò Boldrini after Titian, Caricature of the Laocoön, c. 1540–50,
woodcut, 267 × 403 mm, private collection In the 17th century the pernicious
effect on painting from too-slavish imitation of sculptural forms would be
summa- rised by the Bolognese art theorist Carlo Cesare Malvasia (1616–93) with
the specific neologism ‘statuino’ or ‘statue- like’ (see cats 9 and 15).253 But
during the 17th and 18th centuries even the most outspoken critics of the
perfection of the Antique, such as the champion of colore versus disegno Roger
de Piles, or the defender of a modern and independent artistic language like
Hogarth, always demonstrated great admiration for classical statues, especially
in terms of their proportions (see Appendix, no. 14).254 According to Bellori,
the only great master who showed no interest at all in them was the ultra-naturalist
Caravaggio. In a famous passage of his Vite, the champion of classicism
reported that Caravaggio expressed ‘disdain for the superb marbles of the
ancients and the paintings of Raphael’ because he had decided to take ‘nature
alone for the object of his brush’. ‘Thus’, Bellori continues, ‘when he was
shown the most famous statues of Phidias and Glycon so that he might base his
studies on them, his only response was to gesture toward a crowd of people,
indicating that nature had provided him with masters enough’.255 But this
anecdote must not be taken too literally, as it certainly contains Bellori’s
defence of idealism against the dangers of the unselective imitation of Nature,
as repre- sented by Caravaggio and his followers. In fact, although it is not
immediately obvious, Caravaggio had a profound under- standing of antique
forms, and was deeply conscious of High Renaissance prototypes by Michelangelo
(his namesake) and by Raphael. Even if Bellori’s account of Caravaggio had been
accurate, such a radical attitude would have to be considered an exception in
the long period covered here. In the 18th century criticism of the academic
curriculum, in particular that of the Parisian Académie, and the art that it
produced, increased. But, once again, two of its sternest 60
61 critics, Diderot and David, had an immense admiration for classical
statuary and Diderot’s attack was directed at the codified and repetitive
nature of academic practices, in particular the drawing lessons, and at the
slavish dependence on the Antique at the expense of Nature of most of his
contemporaries, not at classical models as such (see Appen- dix, no. 16).256
Significantly David, who played a crucial role in the closure of the Parisian
Académie in 1793 during the French Revolution, would become the hero of the
refounded École des Beaux-Arts in the 19th century. More significant criticism
came from the students forced to copy casts for sessions on end. The great
French painter Jean-Siméon Chardin recalled the frustration that many artists
must have felt by being forced to follow the oppressive ‘alphabet of drawing’,
as powerfully evoked in his recollections (see also cat. 26): We begin to draw
eyes, mouths, noses and ears after patterns, then feet and hands. After having
crouched over our portfolios for a long time, we’re placed in front of the
Hercules or the Torso, and you’ve never seen such tears as those shed over the
Satyr, the Gladiator, the Medici Venus, and the Antinous [...]. Then, after
having spent entire days and even nights by lamplight, in front of an immobile,
inanimate nature, we’re presented with living nature, and suddenly the work of
all preceding years seems reduced to nothing.257 But even the painter of
still-lifes and domestic genre scenes Chardin recognised the greatness of the
original statues. The appeal of the forms and principles of the Antique was
still supreme within an aesthetic system – the humanistic theory of art – that
placed the representation of mankind and its most noble behaviours at the centre
of the artistic mission, and this was true even for painters, like Chardin, who
did not abide by the academic hierarchy of genres. The real beginning of the
decline of the authority of the Antique started when these premises began to be
challenged by artists who felt at odds with a conception of art that they
perceived as increasingly inadequate. Romanticism landed a first, but
eventually fatal, blow by challenging the rationalistic, idealistic and
supposedly ‘universal’ principles of classicism, in the name of subjective
emotion and individ- ual genius. The drastic changes imposed by
industrialisation and urbanisation accelerated the process. Opie’s outline of
what constitutes art, with which this essay began – a pedantic and codified
version of Reynolds’ aesthetic – came to be perceived as increasingly
irrelevant by students exposed to urban life in London, Paris or any other
modern city, as the words of the painter James Northcote (1746–1831) in 1826
clearly express (see Appendix, no. 19). But if various ‘progres- sive’
avant-gardes rejected more decisively the principles of classicism and academic
art, one need only remember that artistic education remained almost everywhere
based on the traditional curriculum and that casts were used in academies and art
schools until a few decades ago. Some of the greatest modern painters, such as
Cézanne, Degas, Van Gogh and Picasso, spent portions of their youth copying
plaster casts. And, as the last part of this exhibition shows (cats 32, 34–35),
with mass-production casts became ever more available to wider audiences,
including women and the bourgeoisie, entering the realm of the private home,
often in a reduced format. But an assault on the canonical status of many of
the most famous sculptures also came from another ‘academic’ direction, as a
new archaeological precision recognised them as more or less accurate Roman
copies of Greek originals. If art education remained solidly structured around
the traditional curriculum, becoming more and more conserva- tive, the creative
forces of European art placed themselves firmly outside the academic system,
and principles of ideal imitation would become progressively irrelevant. An
image that perfectly visualises the dawn of the new aesthetic era, and an ideal
conclusion to our journey, is a painting produced by Thomas Couture as a satire
against the Realist fashion of the mid-19th century (fig. 109) – a preparatory
study for which is in the Katrin Bellinger collection.258 Couture, who ran a
successful studio in Paris, described his own painting in his Methodes et
Entretiens d’Atelier published in 1867: I am depicting the interior of a studio
of our time; it has nothing in common with the studios of earlier periods, in
which you could see fragments of the finest antiquities. At one time, you could
see the head of the Laocoön, the feet of the Gladiator, the Venus de Milo, and
among the prints covering the walls there were Raphael’s Stanze and Poussin’s
Sacraments and landscapes. But thanks to artistic progress, I have very little
to show [...] because the gods have changed. The Laocoön has been replaced by a
cabbage, the feet of the Gladiator by a candle holder covered with tallow or by
a shoe [...]. As for the painter [...], he is a studious artist, fervent, a
visionary of the new religion. He copies what? It’s quite simple – a pig’s head
– and as a base what does he choose? That’s less simple, the head of Olympian
Jupiter.259 Couture’s image, wherein a once revered antique frag- ment of the
Olympian god, Jupiter, has been relegated to a mere stool and the object of
study is now the severed head of a pig, encapsulates the decline of the Antique
in the 19th century and the shift of interest from the ‘ideal’ to the ‘real’.
Little did Couture kn0w that in a few decades not only the traditional role of
imitation would be subverted, but that the principle of imitation itself –
formulated by Alberti four hundred years before – would be questioned in favour
of expressive or abstract values, leaving even less space for the previously
revered Laocoön, Borghese Gladiator and the Venus de Milo. The Antique
continued its life in the 20th century in many, often unexpected ways: quoted,
subverted and deconstructed by many avant-garde artists; in the official art of
totalitarian regimes; in the ironic and playful, but often shallow game of
post-modernism; and even, one may say, in much of the aesthetic of fashion
advertisement. The relation of the classical model and ideal with modernity is
a story that still needs to be written fully and would be a fascinating subject
for another exhibition. Fig. 109. Thomas Couture, La Peinture Réaliste, 1865,
oil on panel, 56 × 45 cm, National Gallery of Ireland, Dublin, inv. 4220.NOTES 1
2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 Hoare 1809, p. 11. See also Opie 1809, pp. 3–52. The
italics are the author’s. On the Renaissance or humanistic theory of art good
overviews are: Lee 1967; Schlosser Magnino 1967; Blunt 1978; Williams 1997;
Barasch 2000, vol. 1. Anthologies of primary sources in English translation
are: Gilbert 1980; Gilmore Holt 1981–82; Harrison, Wood and Gaiger 2000.
Alberti 1972. See also M. Kemp’s introduction, in Alberti 1991, pp. 1–29.
Although initially circulating only in manuscript form, Alberti’s treatise had
an immense impact on artists and successive art theoreticians. The first Latin
(Basel, 1540) and Italian (Venice, 1547) editions, and subsequent ones,
influenced the earliest academies such as Vasari’s Accademia del Disegno,
founded in 1563. The first French translation (Paris 1651) took shape in the
environment of the French Académie Royale, founded just three years before
(1648). The first English translation (London, 1726) was motivated by the
aspirations of English artists towards the foundation of a national academy
based on continental standards. Innumerable transla- tions and editions
contributed to the diffusion of Albertian principles well into the 19th
century. See Alberti 1991, pp. 23–24. Alberti 1972, p. 53 (book 1, chap. 18).
Alberti quotes Protagoras, probably through Diogenes Laertius, De Vitis ...
philosophorum, 9.51: Alberti 1991, p. 53, note 11. On the sources and structure
of De Pictura see especially Spencer 1957 and Wright 1984. Alberti 1972, p. 97
(book 3, chap. 55). Ibid., p. 101 (book 3, chap. 58). Ibid., p. 99 (book 3,
chap. 55). Ibid., p. 99 (book 3, chap. 56). Albertis’s sources are Cicero, De
inventione, 2.1.1–3 and Pliny, Naturalis Historia, 35.36 (with differences in
detail). Alberti 1972, p. 75 (book 2, chap. 36). See also Alberti 1988, p. 156
(book 6, chap. 2) and pp. 301–09 (book 9, chaps 5–6), esp. p. 303. On the
theory of proportions see Panofsky 1955; R. Klein’s introduction to ‘De
Symmetria’ in Gaurico 1969, pp. 76–91; Gerlach 1990. On Leonardo’s Vitruvian
Man see Kemp 2006, pp. 71–136; Salvi 2012, with previous bibliography. Other
ancient surviving sources on the Canonical ideal are Cicero, Brutus, esp.
69–70, 296; Pliny, Naturalis Historia, 34.55; Galen’s treatises, esp. De 13 14
15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 Placitis Hippocratis et Platonis, 5, and De
Temperamentis, 1.9; Quintilian, Institutio Oratoria, esp. 5.12.21 and
12.10.3-9; Vitruvius’ De Architectura, 3.1. For Alberti’s concept of historia,
see Alberti 1972, pp. 77–83 (chaps 39–42). The clearest definition of history
painting according to the academies of the 17th and 18th centuries is provided
by Félibien 1668, Preface (not paginated). The Codex Coburgensis is preserved
in the Kunstsammlungen der Veste Coburg: see Wrede and Harprath 1986; Davis
1989. Cassiano dal Pozzo’s Paper Museum is divided between several collections
but mainly concen- trated in the Royal Collection, Windsor Castle and the
British Museum, London: see Herklotz 1999; Claridge and Dodero forthcoming.
Macandrew 1978; Connor Bulman 2006; Windsor 2013. London and Rome 1996–97, pp.
257–69; Bignamini and Hornsby 2010. General introductions to drawing techniques
in the Renaissance and beyond are Joannides 1983, pp. 11–31; Bambach 1999, esp.
pp. 33–80; Ames Lewis 2000a; Petherbridge 2010; London and Florence 2010–11.
See Ames-Lewis 2000b, pp. 36–37. Recent general introductions to drawing after
the Antique and the training of young artists in the 15th century include Rome
1988a; Ames-Lewis 2000b, pp. 35–60, 109–40; Jestaz 2000–01; Chapman 2010–11,
pp. 46–60. More focused on the 16th century is Barkan 1999. Haskell and Penny
1981, pp. 252–55, no. 55 (Marcus Aurelius), 308–10, no. 78 (Spinario), 167–69,
no. 16 (Camillus), 136–41, no. 3 (Horse Tamers); Buddensieg 1983; Nesselrath
1988; Rome 1988a, pp. 232–38 (Marcus Aurelius); Paris 2000–01, pp. 200–25 and
pp. 417–20, nos 221–24 (Spinario); Bober and Rubinstein 2010, pp. 223–25, no.
176 (Marcus Aurelius), 254–56, no. 203 (Spinario), 192–93, no. 192 (Camillus),
172–75, no. 125 (Horse Tamers). Dacos 1969; Morel 1997; Miller 1999. Alberti
calls the relief of a sarcophagus in Rome representing the death of Meleager a
historia, specifically praising it as a source for the compositio: see Alberti
1972, pp. 74–75 (chap. 37). Cavallaro 1988b; Cavallaro 1988c; Scalabroni 1988.
Cavallaro 1988b; Scalabroni 1988; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, passim. On
Brunelleschi and Donatello’s Roman trip see the famous account by Antonio di
Giannozzo Manetti: Manetti 1970, pp. 53–57. See also Vasari’s anecdote of
Donatello producing a pen drawing after a sarcophagus that he saw in Cortona on
his way back from Rome to Florence: Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87, vol. 3, pp.
151–52. See also Micheli 1983, p. 93. On the drawings after the Antique
produced in the workshops of Gentile of Pisanello see: Degenhart and Schmitt
1960; Cavallaro 1988a; Degenhart and Schmitt 1996, pp. 81–117; Paris, 1996,
Appendix IX, ‘Le “Carnet de voyage dessins sur parchemin”’, pp. 465–67;
Cavallaro 2005. 26 Rome 1988a, pp. 95–96, no. 24 (A. Cavallaro); Paris 1996,
pp. 180–81, no. 100. 27 See Rome 1988a, pp. 158–59, no. 51, see also pp.
155–56, no. 49; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, p. 87, no. 38. 28 Wegner 1966, pp.
88–89, no. 228; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, pp. 86–87, no. 38. 29 Weiss 1969. 30
London and New York 1992, pp. 445–48, no. 145 (D. Ekserdjian); Paris 2008–09b,
pp. 378–79, no. 159 (C. Elam); Bober and Rubinstein 2010, p. 207, no. 158iii
(158c). 31 Bober and Rubinstein 2010, pp. 207–08, no. 158iii. 32 Alberti 1972,
pp. 80–81 (chap. 41). 33 See Lightbown 1986, pp. 140–53, 424–33; Elam 2008–09.
34 For the drawing after the Marcus Aurelius see Rome 1988a, pp. 232–33, no. 80
(A. Nesselrath); Rome 2005, p. 263, fig. II.10.7, pp. 267–68, no. II.10.7 (A.
Nesselrath). For the drawing after the Horse Tamers see Rome 1988a, pp. 211–12,
no. 61 (A. Nesselrath); Paris 1996, pp. 153–54, no. 84; Rome 2005, p. 334, fig.
III.8.1, pp. 338–39, no. III.8.1 (A. Cavallaro). 35 On the fame of their nudity
see the contemporary comments by Angelo Decembrio in his De Politia litteraria,
written in the central decades of the 15th century: Baxandall 1963, p. 312. For
other mentions in contemporary written sources see Nesselrath 1988, pp. 196–97.
36 Nesselrath 1988, p. 197, fig. 61; Cole Ahl 1996, p. 6, pl. 1; Ames-Lewis
2000b, p. 120, fig. 57; Cavallaro 2005, p. 330; London and Florence 2010–11,
pp. 118–19, no. 14 (M.M. Rook). On Gozzoli and the Antique see Pasti 1988. 37
For a notable exception see Gozzoli’s faithful drawing of a fragmentary
classical Venus: Pasti 1988, p. 137, fig. 38; Ames-Lewis 2000b, p. 121, fig.
59. 38 For a general overview see Weiss 1969, pp. 180–202; Ames-Lewis 2000b,
pp. 52–60, 79–85. 39 Gaurico 1969, pp. 62–63; Gaurico 1999, pp. 142–43,
providing a less accurate translation. 40 Cennini 1933, vol. 2, pp. 123–31. 41
Fiocco 1958–59; Lightbown 1986, p. 18; Favaretto 1999. On Ghiberti’s col-
lection of casts see Ames-Lewis 2000b, p. 81, with previous bibliography. 42
Ames-Lewis 1995. 43 Fusco 1982; Ames-Lewis 2000b, pp. 52–55. 44 Ragghianti and
Dalli Regoli 1975; Ames-Lewis 2000a, pp. 91–123; Forlani- Tempesti 1994. 45
Ames-Lewis 1995, pp. 394, 397, fig. 10. For the practice see Schwartz 2000–01.
46 For an overview see Nesselrath 1984–86. Lists of sketchbooks are provided in
Nesselrath 1993, pp. 225–48 and Bober and Rubinstein 2010, pp. 473–96. 47 The
first printed edition of Biondo’s Roma Instaurata was published in Rome in
1471: Weiss 1969, esp. pp. 59–104. 48 On Michelangelo’s and Raphael’s attitude
towards the Antique the bibliogra- phy is vast. For Michelangelo good surveys
are Agosti and Farinella 1987 (pp. 12–13, note 3, with the most exhaustive
bibliography to date); Florence 1987; Haarlem and London 2005–06, pp. 58–68;
Parisi Presicce 2014. On Raphael: Becatti 1968; Jones and Penny 1983, pp.
175–210; Burns 1984 (p. 399, footnote 2, with exhaustive bibliography to date);
Nesselrath 1984; Dacos 1986. 49 Clark 1969b; Marani 2003–04; Marani 2007. 50
Leonardo 1956, vol. 1, p. 51, no. 77. 51 Ibid., vol. 1, p. 45, no. 59, p. 64,
no. 112. 52 Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87, vol. 6, p. 21. On other sources on
the para- gone between Michelangelo and the ancients see Florence 1987, pp.
107–08. 53 Elam 1992; Florence 1992; Joannides 1993; Baldini 1999–2000;
Paolucci 2014. 54 Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87, vol. 6, pp. 9–12; Condivi
1998, pp. 10–11; Condivi 1999, p. 10. 55 Knab, Mitsch and Oberhuber 1984, pp.
51–54; Ferrino Padgen 2000. 56 See Franzoni 1984–86; Cavallaro 2007; Christians
2010. A list of collec- tions with essential bibliography is providedalso in
Bober and Rubinstein 2010, pp. 497–507. 57 For the Nile and the Tiber see Bober
and Rubinstein 2010, pp. 112–13, no. 65. 58 The Apollo Belvedere was discovered
in 1489, the Laocoön in 1506, the Cleopatra in the first decade of the 16th
century, the Hercules Commodus in 1507, the Tiber in 1512 and Nile probably in
1513: see Haskell and Penny 1981, respec- tively pp. 148–51, no. 8, pp. 243–47,
no. 52, pp. 184–87, no. 24, pp. 188–89, no. 25, pp. 310–11, no. 79, pp. 272–73,
no. 65; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, respectively pp. 76–77, no. 28, pp. 164–68,
no. 122, pp. 125–26, no. 79, pp. 180–81, no. 131, pp. 113–14, no. 66, pp.
114–15, no. 67. The discovery date of the Venus Felix is not known, but it was
placed in the Belvedere Courtyard in 1509: Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 323–25,
no. 87; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, pp. 66–67, no. 16. For the Belvedere
Courtyard see Brummer 1970; Winner, Andreae and Pietrangeli 1998. The first
mention of the Belvedere Antinous-Hermes is in 1527 and it was placed in the
Belvedere Courtyard by 1545; the Belvedere Torso is recorded from 1432 and by
the middle of the 16th century it was displayed in the Courtyard: see Haskell
and Penny 1981, respectively pp. 141–43, no. 4 and pp. 311–14, no. 80; Bober
and Rubinstein 2010, respectively p. 62, no. 10 and pp. 181–84, no. 132. The
first mention of Michelangelo’s praise of the Torso is in Aldrovandi 1556, p.
121. For a selection of other primary sources see Barocchi 1962, vol. 4, pp.
2100–03; Agosti and Farinella 1987, pp. 43–44. For the Torso as ‘School of
Michelangelo’ see Haskell and Penny 1981, p. 313. Schwinn 1973, pp. 24–37.
Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87, vol. 6, p. 108. Bober and Rubinstein 2010, p.
126, no. 79. Joannides 1983, p. 192, no. 240r; Knab, Mitsch and Oberhuber 1984,
p. 615, no. 375. In this drawing Raphael also references Michelangelo’s Sistine
Adam. Golzio 1971, pp. 38–40, 72–73; Nesselrath 1984. The original Italian is
in Camesasca 1994, pp. 257–322 (esp. pp. 290–98); Shearman 2003, pp. 500–45.
For an English translation, see Holt 1981–86, vol. 1, pp. 289–96. See also
Frommel, Ray and Tafuri 1984, p. 437, no. 3.5.1. (H. Burns and H. Nesselrath).
Nesselrath 1982, p. 357, fig. 37; Frommel, Ray and Tafuri 1984, p. 422, no.
3.2.10 (A. Nesselrath); Jaffé 1994, p. 187, no. 315 617*. For the few other
surviving Raphael drawings after Roman antiquities see Frommel, Ray and Tafuri
1984, p. 438, no. 3.5.3 (A. Nesselrath). Bober and Rubinstein 2010, pp. 172–75,
no. 125. This consideration is already in Jones and Penny 1983, p. 205. The
practice of measuring classical statues would become widespread from the 17th
century onwards: see pp. 46–49 in the present volume. A good selection is in
Mantua and Vienna 1999. Check also Bober and Rubinstein 2010, pp. 473–96.
Oberhuber 1978; Mantua and Vienna 1999; Viljoen 2001; Pon 2004. Boissard
1597–1602, vol. 1, pp. 12–13, translated by Bober and Rubinstein 2010, p. 165.
According to a letter by Francesco da Sangallo of 1567, Michel- angelo and
Giuliano da Sangallo were sent by the Pope to witness and comment upon the
unearthing of the Laocoön on the Esquiline in 1506: Fea 1790–1836, vol. 1, pp.
cccxxix–cccxxxi, letter XVI. Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87, vol. 6, p. 109. An
opinion then appropri- ated by Vasari himself in the introduction to his
chapter on Sculpture: Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87, vol. 1, pp. 84–86. This
was repeated later by many authors see for instance Lomazzo 1584, p. 332,
reprinted in Lomazzo 1973–74, vol. 2, p. 288. Wilde 1953, pp. 79–80, nos 43–44,
pls lxx–lxxi; Agosti and Farinella 1987, pp. 33–36, figs 11–14; Tolnay 1975–80,
vol. 2, pp. 51–53, nos 230–34; Florence 2002, pp. 150–51, nos 2–5 (P.
Joannides); Haarlem and London 2005–06, pp. 64–66. Wilde 1953, pp. 9–10, no. 4,
pl. vi; Tolnay 1975–80, vol. 1, pp. 58–59, no. 48; Haarlem and London 2005–06,
pp. 88–89, 285, no. 13. On the restoration of classical statues, see Rossi
Pinelli 1984–86; Howard 1990; Pasquier 2000–01a. Specifically on Montorsoli’s
restorations: Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 148, 246; Vetter 1995; Nesselrath
1998b; Winner 1998; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, pp. 77, 165. See Haskell and
Penny 1981, pp. 229–32, no. 46; Gasparri 2009–10, vol. 3, pp. 17–20, no. 1. On
the Wrestlers see Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 337–39, no. 94; Cecchi and
Gasparri 2009, pp. 62–63, no. 50 (71). For the Niobe Group see Haskell and
Penny 1981, pp. 274–79, no. 66; Cecchi and Gasparri 2009, pp. 316–26, nos 596
(1251) (1–14). On Guido Reni using the Niobe Group as a source for the
expression of many of his figures see Bellori 1976, p. 529. See Haskell and
Penny 1981, pp. 16–22. Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 16–22. On Lafréry see
Chicago 2007–08. On Cavalieri see Pizzimano 2001. See Lee 1967, esp. pp. 3–16;
Blunt 1978, esp. pp. 137–59; Barasch 2000, vol. 1, pp. 203–309. Armenini 1587,
pp. 136–37 (book 2, chap. 11). Lee 1967, p. 7, note 23. See also Weinberg 1961,
pp. 361–423. The first commentary appeared only in 1548 and the first Italian
translation in 1549. Horace, Ars Poetica, 361. See Lee 1967, esp. pp. 3–9.
Aristotle, Poetics, see esp. 9; 15.11; 25.1–2; 25.26–28. Lomazzo 1590, see esp.
chap. XXVI; Zuccaro 1607. On this see Lee 1967, pp. 13–14; Panofsky 1968, esp.
pp. 85–99; Blunt 1978, pp. 137–59. Also in Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87, vol.
1, p. 110. The definition of Disegno was added only to the second edition of
the Lives in 1568. On Vasari and the Antique see Barocchi 1958; Cristofani
1985. Puttfarken 1991; Rosand 1997, pp. 10–24. Walters 2014, p. 57. Whitaker
1997. See for instance Vasari’s comments in the lives of Andrea Mantegna and
Battista Franco: Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87, respectively vol. 3, pp.
549–50 and vol 5, pp. 459–61. Armenini 1587, see esp. pp. 59–60 (book I, chap.
8), pp. 86–89 (book II, chap. 3). See also Lomazzo’s treatment of the Antique:
Lomazzo 1584, p. 481 (book VI, chap. 64). General surveys about the development
of European academies include Pevsner 1940; Goldstein 1996. See also Levy 1984;
Olmstead Tonelli 1984; Boschloo 1989. On images of academies see
Kutschera-Woborsky 1919; Pevsner 1940, passim; Roman 1984. On the Florentine
Accademia del Disegno see Pevsner 1940, pp. 42–55; Goldstein 1975; Dempsey
1980; Wa ́zbin ́ski 1987; Barzman 1989; Barzman 2000. On the Carracci Academy
see Dempsey 1980; Goldstein 1988, esp. pp. 49– 88; Dempsey 1989; Feigenbaum
1993; Robertson 2009–10. On the Accademia di San Luca the bibliography is vast.
On its early history see Pevsner 1940, pp. 55–66; Pietrangeli 1974; Lukehart
2009. On the teaching in the first decades of the Accademia see Roccasecca
2009. On Alberti’s print see Roccasecca 2009, p. 133. Olmstead Tonelli 1984.
Alberti 1604, esp. pp. 2–15. Jack Ward 1972, pp. 17–18; Olmstead Tonelli 1984,
pp. 96–97. On the donation of the Salvioni collection of casts in 1598 see
Missirini 1823, p. 73. On the inventories see Lukehart 2009, Appendix 7, esp.
pp. 368–69, 371–73, 379–80. On the drawing see Bora 1976, p. 125, no. 126.
Malvasia 1678, vol. 1, p. 378; Goldstein 1988, esp. pp. 49–50. On this see
Meder 1978, vol. 1, pp. 217–95; Amornpichetkul 1984; Bleeke- Byrne 1984; Roman
1984, p. 91; Bolten 1985, p. 243. Alberti 1972, p. 97 (book 3, chap. 55).
Alberti 1972, p. 75 (book 2, chap. 36). Cellini 1731, pp. 156–59. Leonardo
1956, vol. 1, p. 45, chaps 59–61, and esp. p. 64, chap. 112; Bettarini and
Barocchi 1966–87, vol. 1, p. 112; Armenini 1587, pp. 51–59, esp. p. 57 (book 1,
chap. 7); See Bleeke-Byrne 1984. Armenini 1587, see esp. p. 86 (book 2, chap.
3). The necessity of exercising one’s memory recurs in Alberti (Alberti 1972,
p. 99, book 3, chap. 55); Leonardo (Leonardo 1956, vol. 1, p. 47, chaps 65–66);
Vasari (Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87, vol. 1, pp. 114–15); Cellini (Cellini
1731, p. 157); and Armenini (Armenini 1587, p. 53, book 1, chap. 7). Gombrich
1960; Rosand 1970; Maugeri 1982; Amornpichetkul 1984; Bolten 1985. On Dürer in
Italy see Rome 2007. Dacos 1995; Meijer 1995; Dacos 1997; Dacos 2001. Van
Mander 1994-99, vol. 1, pp. 342–45 (fols 271r–v). See Meijer 1995, p. 50, note
18. Dacos 1995, pp. 19–20; Dacos 2001, pp. 23–34. Hülsen and Egger 1913–16;
Veldman 1977; Dacos 2001, pp. 35–44; Bartsch 2012; Christian 2012; Veldman
2012. On Beatrizet see Bury 1996; on Lafréry see Chicago 2007–08; on Dupérac
see Lurin 2009. For the print attributed to Beatrizet see Paris 2000–01, pp.
378–79, no. 184 (C. Scailliérez). On the Marforio see Haskell and Penny 1981,
pp. 258–59, no. 57; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, pp. 110–11, no. 64. ‘I disagi e
li affanni tutti del mondo non stima un quattrino’. On the so-called Haarlem
Academy see Van Thiel 1999, pp. 59–90. Veldman 2012, p. 21, with previous
bibliography. Reznicek 1961, vol. 1, pp. 89–94, pp. 319–46, nos. 200–38,
245–48. 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 On Rubens in Rome and his approach
to the Antique see esp. Stechow 1968; Jaffé 1977, pp. 79–84; Muller 1982; Van
der Meulen 1994–95, vol. 1, pp. 41–81; Muller 2004, pp. 18–28; London 2005–06,
pp. 88–111. Jaffé 1977, p. 79; Van der Meulen 1994–95, vol. 1, p. 42, note 6.
Copies of Lafréry’s Speculum Romanae Magnificentiae and De Cavalieri’s
Antiquarum statuarum urbis Romae, are listed in Rubens’ son Albert’s library:
Van der Meulen 1994–95, vol. 1, p. 42, note 6. It is most likely that they were
originally in Peter Paul’s possession, although we do not know whether he
acquired them before, during or after his Italian years. See Van der Meulen
1994–95, vol. 1, pp. 69–74. Armenini 1587, see esp. pp. 59–60 (book I, chap.
8), pp. 86–89 (book II, chap. 3). On the ultimate Aristotelian character of
this principle see Muller 1982. See also Cody 2013. On Rubens’ handwritten
Notebook, lost in a fire in Paris in 1720, but known through several
transcriptions and partial publications see Van der Meulen 1994–95, vol. 1,
esp. p. 71, note 11 and pp. 77–78, note 44, with previous bibliography; Jaffé
and Bradley 2005–06; Jaffé 2010. On the drawing after the Torso see Van der
Meulen 1994–95, vol. 1, pp. 70–71, vol. 2, pp. 56–59, nos 37–39; New York
2005a, pp. 140–44, no. 34. On the Laocoön drawings see: Van der Meulen 1994–95,
vol. 2, p. 98, no. 81, vol. 3, fig. 153 (father), vol. 2, pp. 103–04, no. 93,
vol. 3, fig. 164 (son); London 2005– 06, pp. 90–91, nos 24 (son), 25 (father);
Bora 2013. The question of whether he copied the original Laocoön in Rome, or a
cast derived from it, possibly Federico Borromeo’s in Milan, remains open: see
Van der Meulen 1994–95, vol. 1, p. 48; London 2005–06, pp. 90–91, no. 25.
Muller 2004, p. 22; Edinburgh 2002, pp. 43–46, nos 8–14; Wood 2011, vol. 1, pp.
129–241; Cody 2013. Van der Meulen 1994–95, vol. 1, pp. 80–81. Muller 2004, p.
22. On Rubens’ collection see Antwerp 2004, with previous bibliography. Jaffé
1977, p. 80; Healy 2004. On the Bamboccianti see Briganti, Trezzani and
Laureati 1983; Cologne and Utrecht 1991–92; Rome and Paris 2014–15. On the
fierce criticism by artists see Malvasia 1678, vol. 2, pp. 267 (Sacchi), 268–69
(Albani); Cesareo 1892, vol. 1, pp. 223–55 (Rosa); Castiglione 2014–15. On
Bellori’s condemna- tion see Bellori 1976, p. 16. On Goubau see Briganti,
Trezzani and Laureati 1983, pp. 295–99. On the painting see Paris 2000–01, pp.
382–83, no. 188 (J. Foucart); Cappel- letti 2014–15, pp. 48–50. Vlieghe 1979.
On other Dutch artists copying the Antique in Rome in the 17th century see Van
Gelder and Jost 1985, pp. 35–36. Already at the beginning of the 17th century
Karel Van Mander explicitly laments the poor state of the visual arts in the
Netherlands, blaming the ‘shameful laws and narrow rules’ by which in nearly
all cities save Rome ‘the noble art of painting has been turned into a guild’:
Van Mander 1994–99, vol. 1, pp. 264–65 (fol. 251v). See also Bleeke-Byrne 1984.
On the Antwerp Academy see Pevsner 1940, pp. 126–29; Van Looij 1989. See Emmens
1968, pp. 154–59; Bleeke-Byrne 1984, pp. 30, 38, notes 76–77. Van Mander
1994–99, vol. 1, pp. 448–49 (fol. 297v); Bolten 1985, p. 248. De Klerk 1989.
Bolten 1985, pp. 248–50. For Bisschop’s school see Van Gelder 1972, p. 11.
Bolten 1985. Bolten 1985, pp. 119, 131, 133–34, 141, 143, 153, 157, 188–207,
243–56; Walters 2009, vol. 1, p. 79. Bolten 1985, pp. 159–60. Also many Dutch
theoretical treatises on the art of painting and drawing insisted on the human
form and on the stages of the learning process. For instance William Goeree’s
influential Inleydinge tot de al-gemeene Teycken-Konst, Middelburgh, 1668,
revised and reprinted many times, lays out the five stages of artistic
training: copy of prints, drawings, paintings, plaster casts and the life model
(pp. 31–37). See Bleeke- Byrne 1984, p. 34 and note 45; De Klerk 1989, p. 284.
On Perrier’s diffusion in the Netherlands see Bolten 1985, pp. 257–58; Van
Gelder and Jost 1985, pp. 51–52; Van der Meulen 1994–95, p. 76. For Van
Haarlem’s 1639 inventory see Van Thiel 1965, pp. 123, 128; Van Thiel 1999, p.
84, and Appendix II, pp. 254–255, 257, 270–71, 273. For van Balen’s 1635 and
1656 inventories, see Duverger 1984–2009, vol. 4, pp. 200–11. For Rembrandt’s
1656 bankruptcy inventory see Strauss and Van der Meulen 1979, pp. 349–88. For
Rembrandt’s use of statues, casts and models, see Gyllenhaal 2008. See also
cat. 23 in this catalogue, note 18. For the use of plaster casts in 17th- and
18th-century artists’ studios in Antwerp and Brussels, see Lock 2010. Also
collections of original antiquities were formed in the 17th century, especially
in the Southern Netherlands and in Antwerp: Van Gelder and Jost 1985, pp.
35–50, esp. p. 35, note 65. 64 65 151 For a copy in reverse, dated 1639,
see Bolten 1985, pp. 133–34, and p. 138, fig.a. 152 On Jan ter Boch’s painting
(fig. 49) see Paris 2000–01, pp. 401–02, no. 207 (J. Foucart). On Van Oost the
Elder’s painting (fig. 50), see Antwerp 2008, p. 77, no. 20 (S. Janssens). On
Vaillant’s painting (fig. 51), see MacLaren 1991, vol. 1, p. 440, note 8;
Amsterdam 1997, p. 349, fig. 2. On the painting attrib- uted to Sweert (fig.
52) see Waddingham 1976–77; Amsterdam 1997, pp. 348–52, under no. 74; Paris
2000–01, pp. 400–01, no. 206 (J. Foucart); Houston and Ithaca 2005–06, pp.
134–36, no. 40 (J. Clifton), where the painting is attributed to Wallerant
Vaillant. On Balthasar Van den Bossche’s paintings of artists’ workshops see
Mai 1987–88; Paris 2000–01, pp. 402–03, no. 208 (J.-R. Gaborit and J.-P.
Cuzin); Lock 2010. 153 For the Borghese Gladiator see Haskell and Penny 1981,
pp. 221–24, no. 43; Paris 2000–01, no. 1, pp. 150–51 (L. Laugier); Pasquier
2000–01c. For the Dying Gladiator see Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 224–27, no.
44; Mattei 1987; La Rocca and Parisi Presicce 2010, pp. 428–35. For the Venus
de’ Medici, see Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 325–28, no. 88; Cecchi and Gasparri
2009, pp. 74–75, no. 64 (137). 154 See Haskell and Penny 1981 esp. pp. 23–30.
On the Medici collection of classical sculptures see Cecchi and Gaspari 2009.
On the Farnese’s see Gasparri 2007. On the Borghese’s: Rome 2011–12; on the
Ludovisi’s: Rome 1992–93; on the Giustiniani’s Rome 2001–02. 155 Haskell and
Penny 1981, pp. 16–22; Coquery 2000; Picozzi 2000. 156 Picozzi 2000;
Laveissière 2011; Di Cosmo 2013; Fatticcioni 2013. 157 Haskell and Penny 1981,
p. 21; Goldstein 1996, p. 144; Coquery 2000, pp. 43–44. On Perrier’s success in
the Netherlands see Bolten 1985, pp. 257–58; Van Gelder and Jost 1985, pp.
51–52; Van der Meulen 1994–95, p. 76. 158 Boyer 2000; Montanari 2000; Rome
2000a; Bonfait 2002; Bayard 2010; Bayard and Fumagalli 2011. 159 Bertolotti
1886; Bousquet 1980; Coquery 2000. 160 Herklotz 1999; see also the ongoing
catalogue raisonné of Cassiano dal Pozzo’s Paper Museum: http://warburg.sas.ac.uk/research/projects/
cassiano 161 For the text of Bellori’s Idea see Bellori 1976, pp. 13–25, and
for an English translation see Bellori 2005, pp. 55–65. On it see Mahon 1947,
esp. pp. 109– 54, pp. 242–43; Panofsky 1968, pp. 103–11; Bellori 1976, esp.
XXIX–XL; Barasch 2000, vol. 1, pp. 315–22; Cropper 2000. 162 Bellori 1976, p.
299. 163 See Barasch 2000, vol. 1, pp. 310-72. 164 Bellori mentions many of
these artists devoting time and efforts in the copying of celebrated classical
statuary, such as the Farnese Hercules, the Belvedere Torso, the Niobe Group,
the Borghese Gladiator: Bellori 1976, pp. 75, 90–91 (Annibale Carracci), pp.
529–30 (Guido Reni), p. 625 (Carlo Maratti). For Rubens, Bernini and Cortona
see Bellori 1976, p. XXXI. For Annibale Carracci and the Antique see also
Weston-Lewis 1992. For his drawing (fig. 58) see Washington D.C. 1999–2000, p.
177, no. 50 (G. Feigenbaum). For Poussin and the Antique the literature is
vast: see Bull 1997; Bayard and Fumagalli 2011; Henry 2011, with previous
literature. For his drawing (fig. 59) see Rosenberg and Prat 1994, vol. 1, pp.
312–13, no. 161. For Maratti’s drawings (figs 60–61) see Blunt and Cooke 1960,
p. 63, nos 378, 380. On Pietro da Cortona and the Antique see Fusconi 1997–98.
Some of his drawings after the Antique were commissioned for the Paper Museum
of Cassiano dal Pozzo. On the drawing (fig. 62) see Rome 1997–98, p. 71, no.
2.4 (G. Fusconi). 165 Wittkower 1963; Princeton, Cleveland and elsewhere
1981–82, pp. 159–73; New York 2012–13, pp. 234–38, no. 25. 166 Pevsner 1940,
pp. 82–114; Goldstein 1996, pp. 40–45. On the Académie Royale de Peinture et de
Sculpture in Paris see Vitet 1861; Montaiglon 1875–92; Hargove 1990; Tours and
Toulouse 2000; Michel 2012. On the Académie de France in Rome see Montaiglon
and Guiffrey 1887–1912; Lapauze 1924; Henry 2010–11; Coquery 2013, pp. 173–219,
with previous bibliography. 167 Montaiglon 1875–92, vol. 1, p. 346. 168 Women
were admitted to the Académie, then named École des Beaux- Arts, only in 1896
and allowed to enrol for the Prix de Rome in 1903: Goldstein 1996, p. 61. 169
Montaiglon 1875–92, vol. 1, pp. 315–17. 170 Félibien 1668, Preface (not
paginated). 171 Le Brun 1698. On it see Montagu 1994. 172 Félibien 1668, pp.
28–40; Lichtenstein and Michel 2006–12, vol. 1.1, pp. 127–35. 173 Félibien
1668, Preface (not paginated). 174 Lichtenstein and Michel 2006–12, see esp.
vols 1-2, passim. 175 Lichtenstein and Michel 2006–12, vol. 1.1, pp. 316–22,
374–77; vol. 1.2, pp. 667–71; vol. 2.2, p. 583. 176 Lichtenstein and Michel
2006–12, vol. 1.1, pp. 374–77. See also Goldstein 1996, p. 150. 177 Montaiglon
and Guiffrey 1887–1912, vol. 1, pp. 129–32. 178 Montaiglon 1875–92, vol. 1, p.
293 (for a Venus donated by Chantelou in 1665), pp. 300, 330–31 (for the cast
of the Farnese Hercules ordered in 1666 and delivered in 1668), p. 366 (for
several casts after ancient reliefs and statues copied for the Académie from
the Royal collection on the order of Colbert). 179 See Foster 1998; Schnapper
2000 and Macsotay 2010. 180 Montaiglon and Guiffrey 1887–1912, vol. 1, p. 36.
181 Goldstein 1978, esp. pp. 2–5. 182 Golzio 1935. 183 Boyer 1950, p. 117;
Goldstein 1970; Bousquet 1980, pp. 110–11; Goldstein 1996, pp. 45–46. 184 Mahon
1947, pp. 188–89. 185 Missirini 1823, pp. 145–46 (chap. XCI); Mahon 1947, p.
189; Goldstein 1996, p. 46. 186 Teyssèdre 1965; Puttfarken 1985; Montagu 1996;
Arras and Épinal 2004. 187 Armenini 1587, pp. 93–99, esp. p. 96 (book 2, chap.
5). 188 See esp. Van der Meulen 1994–95, vol. 1, pp. 69–75; Muller 2004, esp.
pp. 18–21; Jaffé and Bradley 2005–06; Jaffé 2010. For the drawing (fig. 67) see
Van der Meulen 1994–95, vol. 1, pp. 71–72, notes 11, 14, 16 with previous
literature. Rubens applied this method to several other statues. 189 Bellori
1976, pp. 451, 473–77, ; Bellori 2005, p. 311, and for the plates pp. 334–37.
See Rome 2000b, vol. 2, pp. 403–04, no. 9 (V. Krahn); Henry 2011; Coquery 2013,
p. 361, nos G. 179–80. 190 The surviving 39 drawings are today preserved in an
‘Album de dessins et mesures de statues romaines...’ at the École nationale
supérieure des Beaux-Arts in Paris: Coquery 2000, pp. 48–50; Paris 2000–01, pp.
389–90, no. 195; Coquery 2013, pp. 37–40; Stanic 2013. For the three drawings
repro- duced here see Coquery 2013, p. 281, no. D114 (Laocoön), p. 283, no.
D130 (Belvedere Antinous), p. 283, no. D131 (Venus de’Medici). 191 Bosse 1656.
See the Conférences by Sébastien Bourdon, Charles Le Brun, Henri Testelin,
Michel Anguier, etc.: Lichtenstein and Michel 2006–12, vol. 1.1, esp. pp.
161–66 (Charles Le Brun), 316–33 (Charles Le Brun), 332–35 (Michel Anguier),
374–77 (Sébastien Bourdon); vol. 1.2, pp. 636–38 (Michel Anguier), 667–71
(Henry Testelin). 192 On De Wit’s Teekenboek (fig. 74) see Bolten 1985, pp.
82–86. On Nollekens’ drawing (fig. 75) see Blayney Brown 1982, p. 484, no.
1460; Nottingham and London 1991, pp. 58–59, no. 31 (Venus de’ Medici); Lyon
1998–99, pp. 123–24, no. 101. On Volpato’s and Morghen’s print annotated by
Canova (fig. 76) see Rome 2008, p. 144, no. 25, with previous bibliography. 193
On the study of anatomy in the Renaissance and the 17th century see Schultz
1985; Ottawa, Vancouver and elsewhere 1996–97; London, Warwick and elsewhere
1997–98; and the excellent essays in Paris 2008– 09a, esp. Carlino 2008–09. On
the combination of the study of anatomy and of the Antique between the 17th and
19th centuries see esp. Schwartz 2008–09. 194 Paris 2000–01, pp. 391–92, no.
197; Coquery 2013, pp. 195–200; Paris 2008–09a, pp. 222–23, no. 79. 195 For the
skeletons (figs 77–78) and anatomical figures (figs 79–80) of the Laocoön and
Borghese Gladiator see Coquery 2013, respectively p. 384, no. G.416, p. 383,
no. G.413, p. 381, no. G.400, p. 382, no. G.408. A series of Conférences at the
Académie Royale in Paris had been devoted to the Antique and anatomy: see esp.
Lichtenstein and Michel 2006–12, vol. 1.2, pp. 581–93 (Pierre Monnier, ‘Sur les
muscles du Laocoon’, 2 May 1676). 196 See Paris 2000–01, pp. 393–94, no. 199,
with previous bibliography; Paris 2008–09a, pp. 226–27, no. 85. 197 See Paris
2000–01, pp. 392–93, no. 198, with previous bibliography; Paris 2008–09a, pp.
226–27, no. 82. Sauvage also made écorchés of other classical prototypes. 198
The original cast appears to have been destroyed. The écorché preserved at the
Royal Academy of Arts is a 19th-century copy by William Pink: see Postle 2004,
esp. pp. 58–59, with previous bibliography. 199 See Jordan and Weston 2002, p.
97, fig. 4.7. 200 For the practice see Paris 2000–01, pp. 415–29; Schwartz
2008–09; London 2013–14, pp. 62–69. On Paillett’s drawing (fig. 87) see London
2013–14, p. 21, pl. 1, p. 96, no. 1. For Bottani’s (fig. 88) see Philadelphia
1980– 81, pp. 59–60, no. 47. For David’s painting (fig. 89) see Rome 1981–82,
pp. 101–02, no. 25. 201 202 203 204 205 206 207 Pevsner 1940, pp. 140–41. On
the diffusion of academies in the 18th century see Boschloo 1989, passim. A
good recent overview is Brook 2010–11. Diderot’s remark appeared in an article
in the Correspondance littéraire, philos- ophique et critique, no. 13, 1763:
‘Sur Bouchardon et la sculpture’, p. 45. See an English translation in Diderot
2011, p. 19. On the diffusion of casts in the 18th century see Haskell and
Penny 1981, esp. pp. 79–91, chap. 11; Rossi Pinelli 1984; Rossi Pinelli 1988;
Pucci 2000a; Frederiksen and Marchand 2010. London 2013–14, pp. 36, 46–47. See
the explanatory text for the plate: Diderot and D’Alembert 1762–72, vol. 20,
entry ‘Dessein’, pp. 1–20, esp. pp. 2–5. See also Michel 1987, pp. 284, 288.
Locquin 1912, pp. 5–13; Toledo, Chicago and elsewhere 1975–76; Plax 2000.
Locquin 1912, pp. 5–13; Schoneveld-Van Stoltz 1989, pp. 216–28, with previ- ous
bibliography. Excellent introductions to the art world of Rome in the 18th
century are the essay contained in Philadelphia and Houston 2000 (see esp.
Barroero and Susinno 2000) and in Rome 2010–11b. Goethe 2013, vol. 2, p. 373.
Overviews on the Grand Tour are Black 1992; London and Rome 1996–97; Chaney
1998; Black 2003. On Panini’s painting see London and Rome 1996–97, pp. 277–78,
no. 233; Philadelphia and Houston 2000, p. 425, no. 275, with previous
literature. Macandrew 1978; Connor Bulman 2006; Windsor 2013, with previous
bibliography. Haskell and Penny 1981, esp. pp. 23–30, 43–52; Paris 2010–11,
with previous bibliography. On drawing in Rome in the 18th century see Bowron
1993–94; Percy 2000, with previous bibliography. On collections of casts in
private academies see Bordini 1998, p. 387. On the Concorsi see Cipriani and
Valeriani 1988–91; Rome, University Park (PA) and elsewhere 1989–90; Cipriani
2010–11. On the early years of the Capitoline as a public museum see Arata
1994; Franceschini and Vernesi 2005; Arata 2008. See Arata 1994, p. 75. On the
Accademia del Nudo see Pietrangeli 1959; Pietrangeli 1962; MacDonald 1989;
Barroero 1998; Bordini 1998. Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 62–63; Raspi Serra
1998–99; Macsotay 2010; Henry 2010–11. The main source for Vleughels’ reform,
rich in information on the study of the Antique in the Académie under his
directorship, is Montaiglon and Guiffrey 1887–1912, vols 7–9, passim (for
description of the collection of casts see vol. 7, pp. 333–37). Boyer 1955;
Loire 2005–06, pp. 75–81. Caviglia-Brunel 2012, pp. 115–63. For Natoire’s
drawing (fig. 94) see Paris 2000–01, p. 372, no. 177; Caviglia- Brunel 2012,
pp. 415–16, no. D.558. On Robert’s drawings (figs 95–96) see Paris 2000–01, pp.
373–74, nos 178–79; Rome 2008, pp. 132–33, nos 12–13; Ottawa and Caen 2011–12,
pp. 22–23, nos 1a–1b. For fig. 97 see Paris 2000– 01, p. 384, no. 190. On
Robert in Rome see Rome 1990–91. On Piranesi and his influence on artists see
Fleming 1962; Wilton Ely 1978; Rome, Dijon and elsewhere 1976; Brunel 1978. On
Winckelmann see Potts 1994, with previous bibliography. Henry 2010–11. For
David in Rome see Rome 1981–82. For his drawings after the Antique see Sérullaz
1981–82; Rosenberg and Prat 2002, passim, esp. vol. 1, pp. 391– 746, vol. 2,
pp. 754–866. Sérullaz 1981–82, p. 42. For David’s drawing (fig. 98) see
Rosenberg and Prat 2002, p. 499, no. 642. See Pressly 1979; Valverde 2008;
Busch 2013. On all these aspects see Pears 1988, esp. pp. 1–26. As general
introductions see Denvir 1983; Solkin 1992; Brewer 1997; Bindman 2008. On the
‘Rule of Taste’ see Lipking 1970; Barrell 1986, esp. 1–68; Pears 1988, pp.
27–50; Ayres 1997. For a recent overview see Aymonino 2014. On academies in
Britain before the foundation of the Royal Academy see Bignamini 1988;
Bignamini 1990. See MacDonald 1989. An excellent introduction to the use of the
Antique in artists’ education in 18th-century Britain is Postle 1997. For casts
in Britain in the first half of the 18th century see: Bignamini 1988, p. 59,
note 63, p. 65, p. 77, note 9, p. 81, note 65, p. 88, p. 103. Einberg and
Egerton 1988, pp. 64–71. Kitson 1966–68, esp. pp. 85–86; Postle 1997, esp. pp.
83–84. See Paulson 1971, vol. 2, pp. 168–71; Nottingham and London 1991, p. 62,
no. 37. Coutu 2000, p. 47; Kenworthy-Browne 2009. On Mortimer’s painting see
Nottingham and London 1991, p. 45, no. 11, with previous bibliography.
MacDonald 1989. Allan 1968, pp. 76–88; Bignamini 1988, p. 108; Postle 1997, pp.
85–87; Coutu 2000, p. 52; Kenworthy-Browne 2009, pp. 43–44. Ibid. On the
Glasgow Foulis Academy see Pevsner 1940, p. 156; MacDonald 1989, pp. 84–85;
Fairfull-Smith 2001. On the Royal Academy see Hutchison 1986. On its regulations
see also Abstract 1797. On the Antique School at the Royal Academy (fig. 105)
see Nottingham and London 1991, p. 43, no. 7; Rome 2010–11b, p. 432, no.V.6. On
Zoffany’s painting see New Haven and London 2011–12, pp. 218–21, no. 44, with
previous bibliography. For the medal see Hutchison 1986, p. 34. On Kauffman’s
painting see Rome 2010–11b, pp. 325, 432–33, no. V.7. For Townley see
particularly Coltman 2009. On Soane’s collection of plaster casts see Dorey
2010. De Architectura, 1.1, esp. 1.1.13; Watkin 1996. Jenkins 1992, pp. 30–40.
Venice 1976, pp. 114–15, no. 49. Malvasia 1678, vol. 1, pp. 359, 365, 484. On
the 17th-century neologism ‘statuino’ see Pericolo’s forthcoming article. See
De Piles 1677, pp. 253–54; De Piles 1708, esp. pp. 128–38. Bellori 1976, p.
214; Bellori 2005, p. 180. See Pucci 2000a; Bukdahal 2007 Diderot 1995, p. 4.
See also Haskell and Penny 1981, p. 91. Boime 1980, pp. 330–35, pl. ix.47.
Couture 1867, pp. 155–56. 6609a, pp. 226–27, no. 85. 197 See Paris 2000–01, pp.
392–93, no. 198, with previous bibliography; Paris 2008–09a, pp. 226–27, no.
82. Sauvage also made écorchés of other classical prototypes. 198 The original
cast appears to have been destroyed. The écorché preserved at the Royal Academy
of Arts is a 19th-century copy by William Pink: see Postle 2004, esp. pp.
58–59, with previous bibliography. 199 See Jordan and Weston 2002, p. 97, fig.
4.7. 200 For the practice see Paris 2000–01, pp. 415–29; Schwartz 2008–09;
London 2013–14, pp. 62–69. On Paillett’s drawing (fig. 87) see London 2013–14,
p. 21, pl. 1, p. 96, no. 1. For Bottani’s (fig. 88) see Philadelphia 1980– 81,
pp. 59–60, no. 47. For David’s painting (fig. 89) see Rome 1981–82, pp. 101–02,
no. 25. Pevsner 1940, pp. 140–41. On the diffusion of academies in the 18th
century see Boschloo 1989, passim. A good recent overview is Brook 2010–11.
Diderot’s remark appeared in an article in the Correspondance littéraire,
philos- ophique et critique, no. 13, 1763: ‘Sur Bouchardon et la sculpture’, p.
45. See an English translation in Diderot 2011, p. 19. On the diffusion of
casts in the 18th century see Haskell and Penny 1981, esp. pp. 79–91, chap. 11;
Rossi Pinelli 1984; Rossi Pinelli 1988; Pucci 2000a; Frederiksen and Marchand
2010. London 2013–14, pp. 36, 46–47. See the explanatory text for the plate:
Diderot and D’Alembert 1762–72, vol. 20, entry ‘Dessein’, pp. 1–20, esp. pp.
2–5. See also Michel 1987, pp. 284, 288. Locquin 1912, pp. 5–13; Toledo,
Chicago and elsewhere 1975–76; Plax 2000. Locquin 1912, pp. 5–13;
Schoneveld-Van Stoltz 1989, pp. 216–28, with previ- ous bibliography. Excellent
introductions to the art world of Rome in the 18th century are the essay
contained in Philadelphia and Houston 2000 (see esp. Barroero and Susinno 2000)
and in Rome 2010–11b. Goethe 2013, vol. 2, p. 373. Overviews on the Grand Tour
are Black 1992; London and Rome 1996–97; Chaney 1998; Black 2003. On Panini’s
painting see London and Rome 1996–97, pp. 277–78, no. 233; Philadelphia and
Houston 2000, p. 425, no. 275, with previous literature. Macandrew 1978; Connor
Bulman 2006; Windsor 2013, with previous bibliography. Haskell and Penny 1981,
esp. pp. 23–30, 43–52; Paris 2010–11, with previous bibliography. On drawing in
Rome in the 18th century see Bowron 1993–94; Percy 2000, with previous
bibliography. On collections of casts in private academies see Bordini 1998, p.
387. On the Concorsi see Cipriani and Valeriani 1988–91; Rome, University Park
(PA) and elsewhere 1989–90; Cipriani 2010–11. On the early years of the
Capitoline as a public museum see Arata 1994; Franceschini and Vernesi 2005;
Arata 2008. See Arata 1994, p. 75. On the Accademia del Nudo see Pietrangeli
1959; Pietrangeli 1962; MacDonald 1989; Barroero 1998; Bordini 1998. Haskell
and Penny 1981, pp. 62–63; Raspi Serra 1998–99; Macsotay 2010; Henry 2010–11.
The main source for Vleughels’ reform, rich in information on the study of the
Antique in the Académie under his directorship, is Montaiglon and Guiffrey
1887–1912, vols 7–9, passim (for description of the collection of casts see
vol. 7, pp. 333–37). Boyer 1955; Loire 2005–06, pp. 75–81. Caviglia-Brunel
2012, pp. 115–63. For Natoire’s drawing (fig. 94) see Paris 2000–01, p. 372,
no. 177; Caviglia- Brunel 2012, pp. 415–16, no. D.558. On Robert’s drawings
(figs 95–96) see Paris 2000–01, pp. 373–74, nos 178–79; Rome 2008, pp. 132–33,
nos 12–13; Ottawa and Caen 2011–12, pp. 22–23, nos 1a–1b. For fig. 97 see Paris
2000– 01, p. 384, no. 190. On Robert in Rome see Rome 1990–91. On Piranesi and
his influence on artists see Fleming 1962; Wilton Ely 1978; Rome, Dijon and
elsewhere 1976; Brunel 1978. On Winckelmann see Potts 1994, with previous
bibliography. 224 225 226 227 228 229 230 231 232 233 234 235 236 237 238 239
240 241 242 243 244 245 246 247 248 249 250 251 252 253 254 255 256 257 258 259
Henry 2010–11. For David in Rome see Rome 1981–82. For his drawings after the
Antique see Sérullaz 1981–82; Rosenberg and Prat 2002, passim, esp. vol. 1, pp.
391– 746, vol. 2, pp. 754–866. Sérullaz 1981–82, p. 42. For David’s drawing
(fig. 98) see Rosenberg and Prat 2002, p. 499, no. 642. See Pressly 1979;
Valverde 2008; Busch 2013. On all these aspects see Pears 1988, esp. pp. 1–26.
As general introductions see Denvir 1983; Solkin 1992; Brewer 1997; Bindman
2008. On the ‘Rule of Taste’ see Lipking 1970; Barrell 1986, esp. 1–68; Pears
1988, pp. 27–50; Ayres 1997. For a recent overview see Aymonino 2014. On
academies in Britain before the foundation of the Royal Academy see Bignamini
1988; Bignamini 1990. See MacDonald 1989. An excellent introduction to the use
of the Antique in artists’ education in 18th-century Britain is Postle 1997.
For casts in Britain in the first half of the 18th century see: Bignamini 1988,
p. 59, note 63, p. 65, p. 77, note 9, p. 81, note 65, p. 88, p. 103. Einberg
and Egerton 1988, pp. 64–71. Kitson 1966–68, esp. pp. 85–86; Postle 1997, esp.
pp. 83–84. See Paulson 1971, vol. 2, pp. 168–71; Nottingham and London 1991, p.
62, no. 37. Coutu 2000, p. 47; Kenworthy-Browne 2009. On Mortimer’s painting
see Nottingham and London 1991, p. 45, no. 11, with previous bibliography.
MacDonald 1989. Allan 1968, pp. 76–88; Bignamini 1988, p. 108; Postle 1997, pp.
85–87; Coutu 2000, p. 52; Kenworthy-Browne 2009, pp. 43–44. Ibid. On the
Glasgow Foulis Academy see Pevsner 1940, p. 156; MacDonald 1989, pp. 84–85;
Fairfull-Smith 2001. On the Royal Academy see Hutchison 1986. On its
regulations see also Abstract 1797. On the Antique School at the Royal Academy
(fig. 105) see Nottingham and London 1991, p. 43, no. 7; Rome 2010–11b, p. 432,
no.V.6. On Zoffany’s painting see New Haven and London 2011–12, pp. 218–21, no.
44, with previous bibliography. For the medal see Hutchison 1986, p. 34. On
Kauffman’s painting see Rome 2010–11b, pp. 325, 432–33, no. V.7. For Townley
see particularly Coltman 2009. On Soane’s collection of plaster casts see Dorey
2010. De Architectura, 1.1, esp. 1.1.13; Watkin 1996. Jenkins 1992, pp. 30–40.
Venice 1976, pp. 114–15, no. 49. Malvasia 1678, vol. 1, pp. 359, 365, 484. On
the 17th-century neologism ‘statuino’ see Pericolo’s forthcoming article. See
De Piles 1677, pp. 253–54; De Piles 1708, esp. pp. 128–38. Bellori 1976, p.
214; Bellori 2005, p. 180. See Pucci 2000a; Bukdahal 2007 Diderot 1995, p. 4.
See also Haskell and Penny 1981, p. 91. Boime 1980, pp. 330–35, pl. ix.47.
Couture 1867, pp. 155–56. 66 67. Primary Sources On The Antique. Rome to copy
its antiquities as a source of inspiration, a phenomenon that increased over
the subsequent four hundred years. Bembo is, in addition, one of the earliest
writers to rank Raphael and Michelangelo on the level of artists from
antiquity. Excerpt from P. Bembo, Prose . . . della volgar lingua, Venice,
1525, p. XLII r (translation Michael Sullivan). At all times of day [Rome]
witnesses the arrival of artists from near and far, intent on reproducing in
the small space of their paper or wax the form of those splendid ancient
figures of marble, sometimes bronze, that lie scattered all over Rome, or are
publicly and privately kept and treasured, as they do with the arches and baths
and theatres and the other various sorts of buildings that are in part still
standing: and hence, when they mean to produce some new work, they aim at those
examples, striving with their art to resemble them, all the more so since they
believe their efforts merit praise by the closeness of resemblance of their new
works to ancient ones, being well aware that the ancient ones come closer to
the perfection of art than any done afterwards. These have succeeded more than
others, Messer Giulio [de’ Medici], your Michelangelo of Florence and Raphael
of Urbino [...] so outstanding and illustrious that it is easier to say how
close they come to the good old masters than decide which of them is the
greater and better artist. 4. Ludovico Dolce (1508–68) on the necessity for
artists copying from antique statues to learn how to correct the defects of
Nature and to aim for perfect beauty. In his treatise Dialogo della pittura . .
. (1557), the humanist, writer and art theorist Lodovico Dolce upheld a strong
defence of the Venetian school of painting, based on colour, against the
Florentine and Roman ones, based on drawing, supported by Giorgio Vasari. At
the same time he included one of the earliest theoretical statements on the
necessity to study the Antique as a model of idealised nature and perfect
beauty – especially in the study of the proportions of the human figure.
However, in Dolce, one finds also a warning against the indiscriminate copying
of classical sculptures – which should always be imitated with the correct
artistic judgement to avoid eccen- tricities – a principle that would become a
leitmotif in subsequent art literature, as shown here in excerpts from Rubens
(no. 8) or Bernini (no. 10). For Dolce a slavish dependence on the Antique can
lead to the excesses of Mannerism. Exerpts from Ludovico Dolce, Dialogo della
pittura intitolato l’Aretino . . . , Venice, 1557, pp. 32r–33r. The following
translation is from the first English edition: Aretin: A Dialogue on Painting.
From the Italian of Ludovico Dolce, London, 1770, pp. 127–32. Whoever would do
this [to form a justly proportioned figure] should chuse the most perfect form
he can find, and partly imitate nature, as Apelles did, who, when he painted
his celebrated Venus emerging from the sea [...] [p. 128] drew her from Phryne,
the most famous courtesan of the age; and Praxiteles also formed his statue of
the Venus of Gnidus, from the same model. Partly he should imitate the best
marbles and bronzes of the [p. 129] antient masters, the admirable perfection
[p. 130] of which, whoever can fully taste and posses, may safely correct many
defects of Nature herself, and make his pictures universally pleasing and
grateful. These contain all the perfection of the art, and may be properly
proposed as examples of perfect beauty. [...] [p. 131] Proportion being the
principal foundation of design, he who best observes it, must always be the
best master in this respect: and it being necessary to the forming of a perfect
body, to copy not only nature but the antique, we must be careful that we do this
with judgement, lest we should imitate the worst parts, whilst we think we are
imitating the best. We have an instance of this, at present, in a painter, who
having observed that the [p. 132] antients, for the most part, designed their
figures light and slender, by too strict an obedience to this custom, and
exceeding the just bounds, has turned this, which is a beauty, into a very
striking defect. Others have accustomed themselves in painting heads
(especially of women) to make long necks; having observed that the greatest
part of the antique pictures of Roman ladies have long necks, and that short
ones are generally ungrace- ful; but by giving into too great a liberty, have
made that which was in their original pleasing, totally otherwise in the copy.
5. Giorgio Vasari (1511–74) on drawing as the intellectual foundation of all
arts; on grace, and on the classical sculptures in the Belvedere Courtyard in
the Vatican as the source for the ‘beautiful style’ of High Renaissance
masters. Giorgio Vasari’s Lives of the Most Eminent Painters, Sculptors and
Architects – published first in 1550 and in an expanded edition in 1568 – is
arguably the most influential example of art literature of the Renaissance.
Vasari’s biographies of the most famous modern artists set the standard for a
progressive conception of the history of art, with the Florentine and Roman
schools representing its culmination. At the start of his essay on painting, in
a section added to the 1568 edition of the Lives, he provides a definition of
disegno, drawing, to give a theoretical underpinning to his defence of the
Central Italian schools of painting. Vasari’s conception of drawing as the
first physical manifestation of the artist’s idea – the intellectual part of
art common to painting, sculpture and architecture – would provide the founda-
tion for the centrality of drawing in the curriculum of future acade- mies. In
another passage to be found in both editions, Vasari praises the best ancient
sculptures, as they embodied the supreme quality of grazia, or grace, which
cannot be attained by study but only by the judgement of the artist – a concept
that remained one of the central tenets of Italian art theory for the next two
centuries. He attributes the rise of the modern manner or ‘bella maniera’, and
the great achievements of Raphael and Michelangelo, to their familiarity and
exposure to the best examples of classical sculpture in the Belvedere Courtyard
in the Vatican. Excerpts from Giorgio Vasari, Le Vite de’ più eccellenti
pittori, scultori et architettori, Florence, 1568, part 1, p. 43. The following
translation is from Vasari on Technique, ed. G. Baldwin Brown, trans. L. S.
Maclehose, London, 1907, pp. 205–06. 69 SOURCE #1 VITRUVIO (80–70 bc – post c.
15 bc) On harmonic proportions as the principle of ideal beauty. Marcus
Vitruvius Pollio’s De Architectura, c. 30–20 bc, is the only complete treatise
on classical architecture to have survived from antiquity and its impact on
Western architecture from the Renaissance onwards is paramount. Manuscript
copies of the treatise circulated widely in the 15th century and were well
known to Filippo Brunelleschi, Leon Battista Alberti, Donatello and to
subsequent generations of early Renaissance artists and architects. The first
printed Latin edition appeared in 1486, followed by a more popular version in
1511 (edited by Fra Giovanni Giocondo). Italian translations appeared in 1521
(by Cesare Cesariano) and in 1556 (edited and translated by Daniele Barbaro
with illustrations by Andrea Palladio). The first chapter of book 3, provided
architects and artists with an authoritative account of the principle of
harmonic proportions based on commensurability which had inspired ancient
sculptors and paint- ers in search of ideal beauty. The celebrated passage on
the perfect proportions of the human body was visualised by Leonardo in his
‘Vitruvian Man’ (see p. 17, fig. 2). The following translation is from the
first integral English edition: The Architecture of M. Vitruvius Pollio.
Translated from the Original Latin, by W. Newton Architect, London, 1771, book
3, chapter 1, pp. 45–46: ‘On the Composition and Symmetry of Temples’.1 The
composition of temples, is governed by the laws of symmetry; which an architect
ought well to understand; this arises from pro- portion, which is called by the
Greek, Analogia. Proportion is the correspondence of the measures of all the
parts of a work, and of the whole configuration, from which correspondence,
symmetry is produced; for a building cannot be well composed without the rules
of symmetry and proportions; nor unless the members, as in a well formed human
body, have a perfect agreement. For nature as so composed the human body, that
the face from the chin to the roots of the hair at the top of the forehead, is
the tenth part of the whole height; and the hand, from the joint to the
extremity of the middle finger, is the same; the head, from the chin to the
crown, is an eight part; [...] the rest of the members have their measures also
proportional; this the ancient painters and statuaries strictly observed, and
thereby gained universal applause. [...] The central point of the body is the
navel: for if a man was laid supine with his arms and legs extended, and a
circle was drawn round him, the central foot of the compasses being placed over
his navel, the extremities of his fingers and toes would touch the circumferent
line; and in the same manner as the body is adapted to [p. 46] the circle, it
will also be found to agree with the square; for, if the measure from the
bottom of the feet to the top of the head is taken, and applied to the arms
extended, it will be found that the breadth is equal to the height, the same as
in the area of a square. Since, therefore, nature has so composed the human
body, * All sentences in Italics are by the present author throughout. 68 that
the members are proportionate and consentaneous to the whole figure, with
reason the ancients have determined, that in all perfect works, the several
members must be exactly proportional to the whole object. 1 The Latin word
‘symmetria’ of Vitruvius’ text has often been translated in English with
‘symmetry’, while commensurability – the mathematical relation between the part
and the whole within a given body or building resulting in overall harmonic
proportions – would be a better translation. 2. Cennino d’Andrea Cennini (c.
1370–c. 1440) on drawing as the foundation of art and on the advantage for
young artists of copying from other masters. Written around 1390 possibly in
Padua, Cennini’s Il Libro dell’Arte is the first art treatise composed in
Italian. Although mainly concerned with practical advice to painters, Cennini
also devoted some of the chapters to the education of the young artist, ofering
the first written evidence of the importance of drawing in the apprenticeship
of the aspiring painter, and especially the copying of works by other artists.
Later, in early Renaissance workshop practices, this increasingly included
antique sculpture. Although not published until 1821, manuscript copies of the
Libro circulated widely in the 16th and 17th centuries, evidenced by the fact
that references to it and passages from it reappear in subsequent art
treatises. Excerpts from Cennino Cennini, Il Libro dell’Arte, ed. F. Brunello,
Vicenza, 1971 (translation, present author). [P. 6, chapter 4] The foundations
and the principles of art, and of all these manual works, are drawing and
colouring. [P. 27, chapter 27] If you want to progress further on the path of
this science [...] you must follow this method: [...] take pain and pleasure in
constantly copying the best things that you can find done by the hands of the
great masters. And if you are in a place where many masters have been, so much
better for you. But I will give you some advice: be careful to imitate always
the best and the most famous; and progressing every day, it would be against
nature that you will not eventually be infused by the master’s style and
spirit. 3. Pietro Bembo (1470–1547) on artists going to Rome to copy the
Antique, and on Michelangelo and Raphael having equalled the ancient masters.
Italian scholar, poet, literary theorist, collector and cardinal, Pietro Bembo
was a central figure in the cultivated antiquarian milieu at the court of Pope
Leo X (r. 1513–21) and a personal friend of Raphael and Michelangelo. His Prose
. . . della volgar lingua, a treatise published in 1525, but composed over the
previous two decades, contains one of the earliest and most eloquent reports of
artists converging on Seeing that Design, the parent of our three arts,
Architecture, Sculpture and Painting, having its origin in the intellect, draws
out from many single things a general judgement, it is like a form or idea of
all the objects in nature, most marvellous in what it compasses, for not only
in the bodies of men and of animals but also in plants, in buildings, in
sculpture and in painting, design is cognizant of the proportions of the whole
to the parts and of the parts to each other and to the whole. Seeing too that
from this knowledge there arises a certain conception and judgement, so that
there is formed in the mind that something which afterwards, when expressed by
the hands, is called design, we may conclude that design is not other than a
visible expression and declaration of our inner conception and of that which
others have imagined and given form to their idea. And from this, perhaps,
arose the proverb among the ancients ‘ex ungue leonem’ when a certain clever
person, seeing carved in a stone block the claw only of a lion, apprehended in
his mind [p. 206] from its size and form all the parts of the animal and then
the whole together, just as if he had had it present before his eyes. Excerpts
from Giorgio Vasari, Le Vite de’ più eccellenti pittori, scultori et
architettori, Florence, 1568, part 3, vol. 1, pp. 2–3 of the Preface
(unpaginated). The following translation is from Lives of the Most Eminent
Painters, Sculptors and Architects by Giorgio Vasari, ed. and trans. by G. du
C. de Vere, London 1912–14, vol. 4, pp. 81–82. [Fifteenth-century artists] were
advancing towards the good, and their figures were thus approved according to
the standards of the works of the ancients, as was seen when Andrea Verrocchio
restored in marble the legs and arms of the Marsyas in the house of the Medici
in Florence. But they lacked a certain finish and finality of perfection in the
feet, hands, hair, and beards, although the limbs as a whole are in accordance
with the antique and have a certain correct harmony in the proportions. Now if
they had had that minuteness of finish which is the perfection and bloom of
art, they would also have had a resolute boldness in their works; and from this
there would have followed delicacy, refine- ment, and supreme grace, which are
the qualities produced by the perfection of art in beautiful figures, whether
in relief or painting; but these qualities they did not have, although they
give proof of diligent striving. That finish, and that certain something that
they lacked, they could not achieve so readily, seeing that study, when it is
used in that way to obtain finish, gives dryness to the manner. After them
indeed, their successors were enabled to attain to it through seeing excavated
out of the earth certain antiquities cited by Pliny as amongst the most famous,
such as the Laocoön, the Hercules, the Great Torso of the Belvedere, and
likewise the Venus, the Cleopatra, the Apollo, and an endless number of others,
which, both with their sweetness and their severity, with their fleshy
roundness copied from the great beauties of nature, and with certain attitudes
which involve no distortions of the whole figure but only a movement of certain
parts, [p. 82] and are revealed with a most perfect grace, brought about the
disappearance of a certain dryness, hardness, and sharpness of manner, which
had been left to our art by the excessive study [...]. 6. Giovan Battista
Armenini (c. 1525–1609) on assimilating the principles of the Antique through
constant drawing as a safe guide for artistic creation. Giovan Battista
Armenini’s De veri precetti della pittura (1587), consti- tutes one of the most
systematic art treatises of the second half of the 16th century. In it we find
the clearest formulations of a progressive method of learning, later defined as
the ‘alphabet of drawing’ (see no. 7), and of the necessity of assimilating the
principles of the Antique through drawing. Armenini is also the first to
provide a proper canon of sculptures and reliefs in Rome that students should
copy and to praise the didactic use of plaster casts. Excerpts from Giovan Battista
Armenini, De veri precetti della pittura, Ravenna, 1587, book 1, ch. 8, pp.
61–63. The following translation is from G. B. Armenini, On the True Precepts
of the Art of Painting, ed. and trans. by J. Olszewski, New York, 1977, pp.
130–34. [To obtain a good style] it is the general and universal rule only to
draw those things which are the most beautiful, learned and most like the good
works of ancient sculptors. Having familiarised him- self with them through
continual study, the student must know these things so thoroughly that when the
occasion demands he can reproduce one or more of these compositions. He must be
so familiar with them that whatever is good in the old works will be
marvellously reflected in his rough sketches, as well as in finished drawings,
and consequently in large paintings [...]. For the con- tinual drawing and
copying of things which are well made ensures that one has a proper guide to
follow and executes his own work very well. [...] In order that you may fully
know the basis of art, make it the foundation of your own works, and learn how
to recognise excellence with certainty, particularly in figures, we shall place
before you as principal models some of the most famous ancient sculp- tures
which most closely approach the true perfection of art and are still intact in
our own days. [p. 131] For it is well known that the ancients who fashioned
these statues first chose the best that nature offered in diverse models and
then, guided by their excellent judgement, combined the best perfectly into one
work. [...] These ancient statues are as follows: the Laocoön, Hercules,
Apollo, the great Torso, Cleopatra, Venus, the Nile, and some others also of
marble, all of them to be found in the Belvedere in the papal palace in the
Vatican. Some others are scattered throughout Rome and among the [p. 132]
foremost is the Marcus Aurelius in bronze, now in the square of the
Campidoglio. Then there are the Giants of Monte Cavallo, and the Pasquino, and
others not as good as these. Also well known because of the histo- ries
depicted thereon are those in the arches with very beautiful manner of half and
low relief as in the two columns, the Trajan and the Antonine, which still
stand, even though time is hostile to human work. [...] And even though this study
we have been discussing is not in the power of all students, since as is well
known not all can stay in Rome labouring long and at great expense, yet even
they have many of these works in their own homes. I am speaking of those copies
of the originals fashioned by the masters in plaster or other material. I have
seen a wax copy of the Roman Laocoön, not larger than two spans, but one could
say that it was the original in small size. Still, if those parts that are
modelled in gesso from these works can be obtained, they are better without
doubt since every detail is there precisely as in the marble, so that they can
be scrutinised and serve the student’s needs excellently. Also, they are very
convenient because they are light and easily handled and transported. And, as
for price, one can say it is very cheap, that is, in comparison with the
originals. Therefore, with such excellent aids available, there is no excuse
for anyone who really wishes to learn the good and ancient path. I have seen
studios and chambers in Milan, Genoa, Venice, Parma, Mantua, Florence, Bologna,
Pesaro, Urbino, Ravenna and other minor cities full of such well formed copies.
Looking at these, it seemed to me that they were the very works found in Rome.
Nor is any beautiful living model excluded from these, and the closer it is to
the aforementioned [p. 133] sculptures, the better it may be considered to be,
but this is rarely the case. Now, with so many examples and reasons, such as
these, I believe [p. 134] you should have a good idea of all that you must
consider and observe carefully. 7. The ‘alphabet of drawing’ and the role of
the Antique in the first orders and statutes of the Roman Accademia di San Luca
(1593). The first ‘orders and statutes’ of the Roman Accademia di San Luca, laid
out by Federico Zuccaro (c. 1541–1609) in 1593 and published by Romano Alberti
(active 1585–1604) in 1604, codified a progressive method in learning how to
draw the human figure, considered as the central subject of art: from details,
like the eye, to the whole body. This ‘alphabet of drawing’, based on
Renaissance workshop practices, would become enormously influential in the
teaching of art in Europe well into the 20th century. The Antique had a crucial
role in it, as it gave students the possibility to learn how to approach the
third dimension of the human body through models of idealised beauty, anatomy
and proportions, and the role of ancient statuary is clearly specified in
another passage of the Accademia’s rules and regulations. Excerpts from Romano
Alberti, Origine, et progresso dell’Academia del Dissegno, de’ Pittori,
Scultori, et Architetti di Roma, Pavia, 1604, pp. 5–8 (translation, present
author). [P. 5] Another hour will be devoted to practice and to teaching
drawing to young students, showing them the way and the good path of study, and
for this purpose we have appointed twelve Academicians, one for each month of
the year, in charge of taking particular care and responsibility in assisting
the students in this task. [...]. The Principal will order the young students
to produce something by their hand, while he will draw himself, and he will
award his resulting drawings to the best students. The first figures – to start
from the Alphabet of Drawing (so to speak) – will be the A, B, C: eyes, noses,
mouths, ears, heads, hands, feet, arms, legs, torsos, backs and other similar
parts of the human body, as well as any other sort of animals and figures,
architectural elements, and reliefs in wax, clay and similar exercises. [P. 8]
[The Academician in charge] will start instructing the students in what to
study, assigning to each of them a different task according to his individual
disposition and talent: some will draw from drawings, others from cartoons or
from reliefs; others will copy heads, feet, hands; others will go out during
the week drawing after the antique or the facades by Polidoro, or land- scapes,
buildings, animals and other similar things; other students in convenient times
will draw after live models, and they must copy them with grace and judgement.
Others will do exercises in architecture and in perspective, following its
correct and good rules, and the best students shall always be rewarded [...].
8. Peter Paul Rubens (1577–1640) on the usefulness and dangers of copying from
the Antique. The great Flemish artist Peter Paul Rubens spent two extended
periods in Rome, between 1601 and 1602 and from late 1605 to late 1608, with
short interruptions. His erudite approach towards the Antique and his desire to
assimilate its principles resulted in many extraordinary drawings after
classical statues, mostly in black and red chalk. In his theoretical treatise,
De Imitatione Statuarum (‘On the Imitation of Statues’), c. 1608–10, he warned
against the dangers of slavishly copying the Antique and transferring the
characteristics and limits of one medium – marble – into another – drawing or
painting. Although Rubens’ manuscript remained unpublished in his lifetime, it
was owned by the influential French art theorist Roger de Piles (1635–1709), who
first published it in his Cours de peinture par principles, Paris, 1708, pp.
139–47. The following translation is from the first English edition: Roger de
Piles, The Principles of Painting, London, 1743, pp. 86–92. To some painters
the imitation of the antique statues has been extremely useful, and to others
pernicious, even to the ruin of their art. I conclude, however, that in order
to attain the highest perfection in painting, it is necessary to understand the
antiques, nay, to be so thoroughly possessed of this knowledge, [p. 87] that it
may diffuse itself everywhere. Yet it must be judiciously applied, and so that
it may not in the least smell of stone. For several ignorant painters, and even
some who are skilful, make no distinction between the matter and the form, the
stone and the figure, the necessity of using the block, and the art of forming
it. It is certain, however, that the finest statues are extremely beneficial,
so the bad are not only useless, but even pernicious. For beginners learn from them
I know not what, that is crude, liny, stiff, and of harsh anatomy; and while
they take themselves to be good proficient, do but disgrace nature; since
instead of imitating flesh, they only represent marble tinged with various
colours. For there are many things [p. 88] to be taken notice of, and avoided,
which happen even in the best statues, without the workman’s fault: especially
with regard to the difference of shades [...]. [p. 89] He who has, with
discernment, made the proper distinctions in these cases, cannot consider the
antique statues too attentively, nor study them too carefully; for we of this
erroneous age, are so far degenerate, that we can produce nothing like them. 70
71 9. Gianlorenzo Bernini (1598–1680) described as a young boy devoting his
days to copying the statues in the Belvedere Courtyard in the Vatican. In 1713
Gianlorenzo Bernini’s son Domenico (1657–1723) published a biography of his
father that constitutes, with Filippo Baldinucci’s Vita del cavaliere . . .
Bernino (MS. 1682), one of the most important sources on the life and art of
the great Baroque sculptor and architect. A passage describing the impact of
the art of Rome on Gianlorenzo, after his arrival from his native Naples,
vividly evokes the dedication and devotion of the young sculptor in
assimilating day and night the principles of the great classical examples in
the Belvedere Courtyard – especially the Antinous Belvedere, the Apollo
Belvedere and the Laocoön. Excerpts from Domenico Bernini, Vita del cavalier
Gio. Lorenzo Bernino, Rome, 1713, pp. 12-13. The following translation is from
Domenico Bernini, The Life of Gian Lorenzo Bernini, ed. and trans. by F.
Mormando, University Park (PA), 2011, p. 101. There now opened before him in
Rome a marvellous field in which to cultivate his studies through the diligent
observation of the precious remains of ancient sculpture. It is not to be
believed with what dedication he frequented that school and with what profit he
absorbed its teachings. Almost every morning, for the space of three years, he
left Santa Maria Maggiore, where Pietro, his father, had built a small
comfortable house, and travelled on foot to the Vatican Palace at Saint
Peter’s. There he remained until sunset, drawing, one by one, those marvellous
statues that antiquity has conveyed to us and that time has preserved for us,
as both a benefit and dowry for the art of sculpture. He took no refreshment
during all those days, except for a little wine and food, saying that the
pleasure alone of the lively instruction supplied by those inanimate statues
caused a certain sweetness to pervade his body, and this was sufficient in
itself for the maintenance of his strength for days on end. In fact, some days
it was frequently the case that Gian Lorenzo would not return home at all. Not
seeing the youth for entire days, his father, however, did not even interrogate
his son about this behaviour. Pietro was always certain of Gian Lorenzo’s
whereabouts, that is, in his studio at Saint Peter’s, where, as the son used to
say, his girlfriends (that is, the ancient statues) had their home. The
specific object of his studies we must deduce from what he used to say later in
life once he began to experience their effect on him. Accordingly, his greatest
attention was focussed above all on those two most singular statues, the
Antinous and the Apollo, the former miraculous in its design, the latter in its
workmanship. Bernini claimed, however, that both of these qualities were even
more perfectly embodied in the famous Laocoön of Athen0dorus, Hagesander, and
Polydorus of Rhodes, a work of so well-balanced and exquisite a style that
tradition has attributed it to three artists, judging it perhaps beyond the
ability of just one man alone. Two of these three marvellous statues, the
Antinous and the Laocoön, had been discovered during the time of Pope Leo X
amid the ruins of Nero’s palace in the gardens near the church of San Pietro in
Vincoli and placed by the same pontiff in the Vatican Palace for the public
benefit of artists and other students of antiquity. 10. Gianlorenzo Bernini
(1598–1680) on the formative role of ancient sculpture in the education of
young artists. In 1665 Bernini visited France at the invitation of Louis XIV to
discuss designs for the completion of the Palais du Louvre. His five-month stay
was recorded by his guide Paul Fréart, Sieur de Chantelou in his lively Journal
du voyage du Cavalier Bernin en France. The advice given by Bernini on his
visit to the Académie Royale de peinture et de sculpture is among the clearest
statements on the formative role assigned to antique statuary in the education
of young artists in 17th- century Rome. At the same time it reveals the opinion
of the great Baroque sculptor on the dangers of copying from classical models
without also involving independent inspiration and artistic creations. The
manuscript of the Journal du voyage du cavalier Bernin en France par M. de
Chantelou was published for the first time by Ludovic Lalanne in a series of
articles in the Gazette des Beaux-Arts in 1877–84 (a new edition by M. Stanic ́
was published in Paris in 2001). The following translation is from Paul Fréart
de Chantelou, Diary of the Cavaliere Bernini’s Visit to France, ed. by A.
Blunt, trans. by M. Cornbett, Princeton, 1985, pp. 165–67. 5 September: The
Cavaliere worked as usual, and in the evening went to the Academy [...] [p.
166]. The Cavaliere glanced at the pictures round the room: they are not by the
most talented mem- bers. He also looked at a few bas-reliefs by various
sculptors of the Academy. Then, as he was standing in the middle of the hall
sur- rounded by members, he gave it as his opinion that the Academy ought to
possess casts of all the notable statues, bas-reliefs, and busts of antiquity.
They would serve to educate young students; they should be taught to draw after
these classical models and in that way form a conception of the beautiful that
would serve them all their lives. It was fatal to put them to draw from nature
at the beginning of their training, since nature is nearly always feeble and
niggardly, for if their imagination has nothing but nature to feed on, they
will be unable to put forth anything of strength or beauty; for nature itself
is devoid of both strength or beauty, and artists who study it should first be
skilled in recognis- ing its faults and correcting them; something that
students who lack grounding cannot do [...] [p. 167]. He said that when he was
very young he used to draw from the antique a great deal, and, in the first
figure he undertook, resorted continually to the Antinous as his oracle. Every
day he noticed some further excellence in this statue; certainly he would never
have had that experience had he not himself taken up a chisel and started to
work. For this reason he always advised his pupils, and others, never to draw
and model without at the same time working either at a piece of sculpture or a
picture, combining creation with imitation and thought with action, so to
speak, and remarkable progress should result. For support of his contention
that original work was absolutely essential I cited the case of the late
Antoine Carlier, an artist known to most of the members of the Academy. He
spent the greater part of his life in Rome modelling after the statues of
antiquity, and his copies are incomparable: and they had to agree that, because
he had begun to do original work too late, his imagination had dried up, and
the slavery of copying had in the end made it impossible for him to produce
anything of his own. 11. Giovanni Pietro Bellori (1613–96): his ‘Idea of the
painter, the sculptor and the architect, selected from the beauties of Nature,
superior to Nature’ as the manifesto of the classicist doctrine. Giovanni
Pietro Bellori, a central figure in 17th-century art theory and the champion of
classicism, delivered his epochal speech, the ‘Idea’, in front of the Roman
Accademia di San Luca in 1664 and later published it as a preface to his
influential Vite of 1772. In this he provided one of the clearest and most
influential systematisations for the concept of the idealistic mission of art,
already formulated by various Renaissance art theorists such as Dolce, Vasari,
Armenini and Zuccaro. Joining Aristotelian and neo-Platonic premises, for
Bellori God’s perfect Ideas become corrupted in our world because of accidents
and the innate imperfection of the ‘matter’. The role of ‘noble’ artists is
therefore to aim at recreating the perfection of the original divine ideas in
their works by selecting the best parts of nature. Classical statues ofer the
best guide and example for the modern artists as they are the result of this
process of selection already achieved by ancient artists. In the final
paragraph quoted here, Bellori stresses the value of the imitation of the
Antique against some contemporary artists and theorists, like the Venetian
painter and writer Marco Boschini (1605–81), who criticised the practice.
Excerpts from Giovan Pietro Bellori, Le vite de’ pittori scultori e architetti
moderni, Rome, 1672, pp. 3–13. The following translation is from G. P. Bellori,
The Lives of the Modern Painters, Sculptors and Architects: a New Translation
and Critical Edition, ed. by H. Wohl, trans. by A. Sedgwick Wohl, introduction
by T. Montanari, Cambridge, 2005, pp. 57–61. [P. 57] The supreme and eternal
intellect, the author of nature, looking deeply within himself as he fashioned
his marvellous works, established the first forms, called Ideas, in such a way
that each species was an expression of that first Idea, thereby forming the
wondrous context of created things. But the celestial bodies above the moon,
not being subject to change, remained forever beautiful and ordered, so that by
their measured spheres and by the splendour of their aspects we come to know
them as eternally perfect and most beautiful. The opposite happens with the
sublunar bodies, which are subject to change and to ugliness; and even though
nature intends always to make its effects excellent, nevertheless, owing to the
inequality of matter, forms are altered, and the human beauty in particular is
confounded, as we see in the innumerable deformities and disproportions that
there are in us. For this reason noble painters and sculptors, imitating that
first maker, also form in their minds an example of higher beauty, and by
contemplating that, they emend nature without fault of colour or of line. This
Idea, or rather the goddess of painting and sculpture [...], reveals itself to
us and descends upon marbles and canvases; originating in nature, it transcends
its origins and becomes the original of art; measured by the compass of the
intellect, it becomes the measure of the hand; and animated by the imagination
it gives life to the image. [P. 58] Now Zeuxis, who chose from five virgins to
fashion the famous image of Helen that Cicero held up as an example to the
orator, teaches both the painter and the sculptor to contemplate the Idea of
the best natural forms by choosing them from various bodies, selecting the most
elegant.1 For he did not believe that he would be able to find in a single body
all those perfections that he sought for the beauty of Helen, since nature does
not make any particular thing perfect in all its parts. [...] Now if we wish
also to compare the precepts of the sages of antiquity with the best of [p. 59]
those laid down by our modern sages, Leon Battista Alberti teaches that one
should love in all things not only the likeness, but mainly the beauty, and
that one must proceed by choosing from very beautiful bodies their most praised
parts.2 [...] Raphael of Urbino, the great master of those who know, writes
thus to Castiglione about his Galatea: In order to paint one beauty I would
need to see more beauties, but as there is a dearth of beautiful women, I make
use of a certain Idea that comes to into my mind.3 [P. 61] It remains for us to
say that since the sculptors of antiquity employed the marvellous Idea, as we
have indicated, it is therefore necessary to study the most perfect ancient
sculptures, in order that they may guide us to the emended beauties of nature;
and for the same purpose it is necessary to direct our eye to the contemplation
of other most excellent masters; but this matter we shall leave to a treatise
of its own on imitation, to meet the objections of those who criticise the
study of ancient statues. 1 Cicero, De inventione, II, 1, 1–3. 2 Alberti 1972,
p. 99 (book 3, chap. 55). 3 Quoted the first time in Pino 1582, vol. 2, p. 249.
12. A Conférence of the Parisian Académie Royale de peinture et de sculpture on
the artistic excellence of the Laocoön, 1667. Among the celebrated seven
Conférences given at the Académie in 1667, devoted to the analysis of famous
paintings of the Italian and French schools, the third, held by the sculptor
Gerard van Opstal (1594–1668), was specifically dedicated to the Laocoön.
Opstal’s approach, in which each aspect of the famous statue, from its anatomy,
to its proportions, character and expressions, is discussed in detail, clearly
expresses the analytical and didactic approach of the Académie to the Antique.
Excerpts from André Félibien, Conférences de l’Académie Royale de Peinture et
de Sculpture, pendant l’année 1667, Paris, 1668, pp. 28–40. The following
translation is from the first English edition: Seven Conferences held in the
King of France’s Cabinet of Paintings . . . , London, 1740, pp. 33–42
(pagination is discontinuous). [Gerard van Opstal] examined all the Parts of
this Figure in order to shew the Excellence of it: and observed with what Art
the Sculptor had given in a large Breast and Shoulders, all the Parts of which
are expressed with a great deal of Exactness and Tenderness. He also took
Notice of the Height of the Hips, and the Nervousness of the Arms: the Legs
neither too thick nor too lean but firm 72 73 and well muscled; and in
general he observed that in all the other Members, the Flesh and Nerves were
expressed with as much strength and sweetness as in Nature herself, but in
Nature well formed. [...] [p. 34]. He did not forget to shew likewise the
strong Expressions which appear in this admirable Figure, where Grief is not
only diffused over the Face, but also over all the other Parts of the Body, and
to the Extremities of the Feet, the Toes of which violently contract
themselves. [p. 35] As every thing about this Statue is contrived with
surprising Art, every one will own that it ought to be the chief study of
Painters and Sculptors: But which they should not consider chiefly as a Model
that only serves to design by; they ought to observe exactly all the Beauties,
and imprint on their Minds an Image of all that is excellent in it: because it
is not the Hand that is to be employed if one desires to make himself perfect
in this Art, but Judgement to form these great Ideas and Memory carefully to
retain them. But as those strong Expressions cannot teach one to design after a
Model, because we cannot put such a Person in a State where all the Passions
are in him at once, and it is likewise difficult to copy them in Persons who
are really active because of the quick Motion of the Soul: It is therefore of
great Importance for Artists to study Causes, and then to try with how great
Dignity [p. 30] they can represent their Effects, and we may aver that it is
only to these fine Antiques they must have recourse since there they will meet
with Expressions which it will be difficult to draw after nature. [P. 31] Every
one will agree that it is from this Model [that] we may learn to correct the
Faults which are commonly found in Nature; for here all appears in a State of
Perfection [...]. 13. Gérard Audran (1640–1703) on the perfect proportions of
antique sculptures. Gérard Audran, engraver and conseiller of the Parisian
Académie Royale, published the most popular illustrated manual on the measured
proportions of selected canonical ancient statues in 1682 (see p. 48, figs
72–73). We find in the Preface one of the clearest expressions of the
rationalistic attitude of the Académie: the Antique here represents an
infallible standard of perfect proportions, which Audran has made available,
‘compass in hand’, for young artists, providing them with precise references on
which to base their own figures. Excerpts from Gérard Audran, Les proportions
du corps humain mesurées sur les plus belles figures de l’antiquité, Paris,
1683, pp. 1-4 of the Preface (unpaginated). The following translation is from
The Proportions of the Human Body, measured from the most Beautiful Statues by
Mons. Audran . . . , London,There will be, I think, but little occasion to
enlarge upon the Necessity of a perfect Knowledge of the PROPORTIONS, to every
Person conversant in Designing; it being very well known, that without
observing them they can make nothing but mon- strous and extravagant Figures.
Everyone agrees to this Maxim generally consider’d, but everyone puts it
differently in practice; and here lies the Difficulty, to find certain Rules
for the Justness and Nobleness of the Proportions; which, since Opinions are
divided, may stand as an infallible Guide, upon whose Judgement we may rely
with Certainty. This appears at first very easy; for since the Perfection of
Art consist in imitating Nature well, it seems as if we need consult no other
Master, but only work after the Life; nevertheless, if we examin the Matter
farther, we shall find, that very few Men, or perhaps none, have all their
Parts in exact Proportion without any Defect. We must therefore chuse what is
beautiful in each, taking only what is called the Beautiful Nature. [...] I see
nothing but the Antique in which we can place an entire confidence. These
Sculptors who have left us those beautiful Figures [...] have in some sort
excell’d Nature; for [...] there never was any Man so perfect in all his Parts
as some of their Figures. They have imitated the Arms of one, the Legs of
another, collecting thus in one Figure all the Beauties which agreed to the
Subject they represented; as we see in the Hercules all the Strokes that are
Marks of Strength; and in the Venus all the Delicacy and Graces that can form
an accomplished Beauty. [...] [p. 2]. I give you nothing of myself; everything
is taken from the Antique: but I have drawn nothing upon the Paper till I had
first mark’d all the Measures with the Compasses, in order to make the
Out-Lines fall just according to the Numbers. 14. William Hogarth (1697–1764)
against fashionable taste and the uncritical cult of the Antique. The celebrated
painter and engraver William Hogarth played a crucial role in establishing an
English school of painting in the 18th century. As director of the second St
Martin’s Lane Academy from 1735, he became increasingly hostile to a curriculum
based on the French Académie model. In his theoretical treatise The Analysis of
Beauty, published in 1753, he attacked the idealistic concept of art – as a
selection of the best parts of nature – in favour of a more naturalistic
approach. At the same time he disputed the validity of studies on proportion
such as those produced by Dürer and Lomazzo in the 16th century. Hogarth
retained a bold independent-minded position towards the Antique, criticising
the slavish reverential attitude of connoisseurs and men of taste, while
recognising the greatness of certain antiquities. Their peculiar elegance,
according to Hogarth, is the expression of the ‘serpentine line’, the central
principle of his own aesthetic. Excerpts from William Hogarth, The Analysis of
Beauty, London, 1753. [P. 66] We have all along had recourse chiefly to the
works of the ancients, not because the moderns have not produced some as
excellent; but because the works of the former are more generally known: nor
would we have it thought, that either of them have ever yet come up to the
utmost beauty of nature. Who but a bigot, even to the antiques, will say that
he has not seen faces and necks, hands and arms in living women, that even the
Grecian Venus doth but coarsely imitate? [p. 67] And what sufficient reason can
be given why the same may not be said of the rest of the body? [P. 77, ‘On
Proportions’] Notwithstanding the absurdity of the above schemes [of Dürer and
Lomazzo], such measures as are to be taken from antique statues, may be of some
service to painters and sculptors, especially to young beginners [...] [p. 80].
I firmly believe, that one of our common proficients in the athletic art, would
be able to instruct and direct the best sculptor living, (who hath not seen, or
is wholly ignorant of this exercise) in what would give the statue of an
English-boxer, a much better proportion, as to character, than is to be seen,
even in the famous group of antique boxers, (or some call them, Roman
wrestlers) so much admired to this day. [P. 91] As some of the ancient statues
have been of such singular use to me, I shall beg leave to conclude this
chapter with an observation or two on them in general. It is allowed by the
most skilful in the imitative arts, that tho’ there are many of the remains of
antiquity, that have great excellencies about them; yet there are not,
moderately speaking, above twenty that may be justly called capital. There is
one reason, nevertheless, besides the blind veneration that generally is paid
to antiquity, for holding even many very imperfect pieces in some degree of
estimation: I mean that peculiar taste of elegance which so visibly runs
through them all, down to the most incorrect of their basso-relievos: [p. 92]
which taste, I am persuaded, my reader will now conceive to have been entirely
owing to the perfect knowledge the ancients must have had of the use of the
precise serpentine-line. But this cause of elegance not having been since
sufficiently understood, no wonder such effects should have appeared
mysterious, and have drawn mankind into a sort of religious esteem, and even
bigotry, to the works of antiquity. 15. Johan Joachim Winckelmann (1717–68) on
the Antique. Winckelmann, the greatest art historian of the 18th century, moved
to Rome from Dresden in 1755 and soon established himself as one of the leading
antiquarians and scholars of Europe. His powerful and intimate descriptions of
ancient sculptures, especially those in the Belvedere Courtyard, had a
tremendous impact on the European public and contributed decisively to the
difusion of the classical ideal and the airmation of the neo-classical
aesthetics. His analysis of Greek art provided a stylistic classification of
antiquities by period, stressing the importance of contextual conditions such
as the climate and political freedom of the ancient Greek city states. This
revolutionised the approach to the Antique and contributed to the establishment
of a modern art historical method. He recommended to artists the imitation of
ancient statuary as the only way to achieve perfection, in both aesthetic and
moral terms. Excerpts from Johan Joachim Winckelmann, Gedanken über die
Nachahmung der griechischen Werke in der Malerei und Bildhauerkunst, ed. by C.
L. von Ulrichs, Stuttgart, 1885, pp. 6–12, 24. The following translation is from
the first English edition: J. J. Winckelmann, Reflections on the Painting and
Sculpture of the Greeks . . . , trans. by Henry Fuseli, London, 1765. [P. 1] To
the Greek climate we owe the production of Taste, and from thence it spread at
length over all the politer world. [P. 2] There is but one way for the moderns
to become great, and perhaps unequalled; I mean, by imitating the antients. And
what we are told of Homer, that whoever understands him well, admires him, we
find no less true in matters concerning the antient, especially the Greek arts.
But then we must [p. 3] be as familiar with them as with a friend, to find
Laocoon as inimitable as Homer. By such intimacy our judgment will be that of
Nicomachus: Take these eyes, replied he to some paltry critick, censuring the
Helen of Zeuxis, Take my eyes, and she will appear a goddess. With such eyes
Michael Angelo, Raphael, and Poussin considered the performances of the
antients. They imbibed taste at its source; and Raphael particularly in its
native country. We know, that he sent young artists to Greece, to copy there,
for his use, the remains of antiquity. [...] Laocoon was the standard of the
Roman artists, as well as ours; and the rules of Polycletus became the rules of
art. [P. 4] The most beautiful body of ours would perhaps be as much inferior
to the most beautiful Greek one, as Iphicles was to his brother Hercules. The
forms of the Greeks, prepared to beauty, by the influence of the mildest and
purest sky, became perfectly elegant by their early exercises. Take a [p. 5]
Spartan youth, sprung from heroes, undistorted by swaddling-cloths; whose bed,
from his seventh year, was the earth, familiar with wrestling and swimming from
his infancy; and compare him with one of our young Sybarits, and then decide
which of the two would be deemed worthy, by an artist, to serve for the model
of a Theseus, an Achilles, or even a Bacchus [...] [p. 6]. By these exercises
the bodies of the Greeks got the great and manly Contour observed in their
statues, without any bloated corpulency. [P. 9] Art claims liberty: in vain
would nature produce her noblest offsprings, in a country where rigid laws
would choak her progressive growth, as in Egypt, that pretended parent of
sciences and arts: but in Greece, where, from their earliest youth, the happy
inhabitants were devoted to mirth and pleasure, where narrow- spirited
formality never restrained the liberty of manners, the artist enjoyed nature
without a veil. [P. 30] The last and most eminent characteristic of the Greek
works is a noble simplicity and sedate grandeur in Gesture and Expression. As
the bottom of the sea lies peaceful beneath a foaming surface, a great soul
lies sedate beneath the strife of passions in Greek figures. ’ Tis in the face
of Laocoon this soul shines with full lustre, not confined however to the face,
amidst the most violent sufferings. 16. Denis Diderot (1713–84) on the
excessive dependence on the Antique at the expense of the study of Nature.
Philosopher, polymath and editor of the Encyclopédie, Diderot is one of the
central figures of the French Enlightenment. His celebrated art criticism was
directed towards the biennial Salons organised by the Académie Royale de
peinture et de sculpture in Paris, and covered the period from 1759 to 1781.
His review of the 74 75 1765 Salon included a section on sculpture in
which he criticised Winckelmann’s semi-religious dependence on the Antique and
instead urged artists to return to the study of Nature, as the source of all
excellence in art, classical statues included. Diderot’s ‘naturalistic’ and
anti-academic approach – already difused into European art theory at least from
the 17th century onwards – became predominant in the 19th century.
Nevertheless, Diderot had an immense admiration for classical sculpture in
itself; for him it represented the best result of that fruitful study of Nature
and freedom of artistic creativity that he advocated for contemporary French
art. Diderot’s review of the Salon of 1765 was written for Melchior Grimm’s
Correspondence littéraire, which circulated in manuscript form. It was printed
for the first time in Jacques-André Naigeon, Oeuvres de Denis Diderot publiés
sur les manuscrits de l’auteur, 15 vols, Paris, 1798, vol. 13, pp. 314–16. This
translation is from Diderot on Art – 1: The Salon of 1765 and Notes on
Painting, ed. and trans. by J. Goodman, New Haven and London, 1995, pp. 156–57.
I am fond of fanatics [...] [p. 157]. Such one is Winckelmann when he compares
the productions of ancient artists with those of modern artists. What doesn’t
he see in the stump of a man we call the Torso? The swelling muscles of his
chest, they’re nothing less than the undulation of the sea; his broad bent
shoulders, they’re a great concave vault that, far from being broken, is
strengthened by the burdens it’s made to carry; and as for his nerves, the
ropes of ancient catapults that hurled large rocks over immense distances are
mere spiderwebs in compari- son. Inquire of this charming enthusiast by what
means Glycon, Phidias, and the others managed to produce such beautiful,
perfect works and he’ll answer you: by the sentiment of liberty which elevates
the soul and inspire great things; by rewards offered by the nation, and public
respect; by the constant observation, study and imitation of the beautiful in
nature, respect for poster- ity, intoxication at the prospect of immortality,
assiduous work, propitious social mores and climate, and genius [...]. There is
not a single point of this response one would dare to contradict. But put a
second question to him, ask him if it’s better to study the antique or nature,
without the knowledge and study of which, without a taste for which ancient
artists, even with all the specific advantages they enjoyed, would have left us
only medio- cre works: The antique! He’ll reply without skipping a beat; The
antique! [...] and in one fell swoop a man whose intelligence, enthusiasm, and
taste are without equal betrays all these gifts in the middle of the Toboso.
Anyone who scorns nature in favour of the antique risks never producing
anything that’s not trivial, weak, and paltry in its drawing, character,
drapery, and expression. Anyone who’s neglected nature in favour of the antique
will risk being cold, lifeless, devoid of the hidden, secret truths which can
only be perceived in nature itself. It seems to me that one must study the
antique to learn how to look at nature. 17. Sir Joshua Reynolds (1723–92) on
the role of the Royal Academy and on the study of the Antique. Sir Joshua
Reynolds, the foremost portrait painter in England in the 18th century, served
as first president of the Royal Academy between 1768 and 1792. His fifteen
Discourses on Art, delivered to the students and members of the Academy between
1769 and 1790, became widely popular in Britain and abroad. They represent a
distillation of the idealistic and academic art theory of the previous
centuries in support of the ‘Grand manner’, mixed with his personal views, such
as Reynolds’ huge admiration for Michelangelo. The Discourses range from
didactic guidelines for the Academy to more theoretical discussions, and
references to the Antique can be found throughout, especially in Discourse 10,
devoted to sculpture. Excerpts from Discourses of Art. Sir Joshua Reynolds, ed.
by R. R. Wark, New Haven and London, 1997. [P. 15] Discourse 1 (1769): The
principal advantage of an Academy is, that, besides furnishing able men to
direct the student, it will be a repository for the great examples of the Art.
These are the materials on which genius is to work, and without which the
strongest intellect may be fruitlessly or deviously employed. By studying these
authentic models, that idea of excellence which is the result of the
accumulated experience of past ages may be at once acquired; and the tardy and
obstructed progress of our predecessors may teach us a shorter and easier way.
The student receives, at one glance, the principles which many artists have
spent their whole lives in ascertaining; and, satisfied with their effect, is
spared the painful investigation by which they come to be known and fixed. [P.
106] Discourse 6 (1774): All the inventions and thoughts of the Antients,
whether conveyed to us in statues, bas-reliefs, intaglios, cameos, or coins,
are to be sought after and carefully studied: The genius that hovers over these
venerable reliques may be called the father of modern art. From the remains of
the works of the antients the modern arts were revived, and it is by their
means that they must be restored a second time. However it may mortify our
vanity, we must be forced to allow them our masters; and we may venture to
prophecy, that when they shall cease to be studied, arts will no longer
flourish, and we shall again relapse into barbarism. [P. 177] Discourse 10
(1780): As a proof of the high value we set on the mere excellence of form, we
may produce the greatest part of the works of Michael Angelo, both in painting
and sculpture; as well as most of the antique statues, which are justly
esteemed in a very high degree [...]. But, as a stronger instance that this excellence
alone inspires sentiment, what artist ever looked at the Torso without feeling
a warmth of enthusiasm, as from the highest efforts of poetry? From whence does
this proceed? What is there in this fragment that produces this effect, but the
perfec- tion of this science of abstract form? A MIND elevated to the
contemplation of excellence perceives in this [p. 178] defaced and shattered
fragment, disjecti membra poetae, the traces of superlative genius, the
reliques of a work on which succeeding ages can only gaze with inadequate
admiration. 18. The Encyclopédie by Denis Diderot (1713–84) and Jean-Baptiste
le Rond d’Alembert (1717–83) on the advantages for artists to go to Rome to
experience the Antique and modern works of art. The second edition of Diderot’s
and D’Alembert’s epochal Encyclopédie included an entry on the Académie de
France in Rome, in which the role and mission of the institution is celebrated
in superlative terms. A period in Rome was still considered, even by the
anti-academic Diderot, to be essential for young artists to round of their
education in the physical and spiritual presence of the Antique and the great
Renaissance masters. This apology and defence of the Roman Académie was also
perhaps intended to counter the opinion of those, such as the sculptor
Etienne-Maurice Falconet (1716–91), who judged the trip to Rome no longer
necessary, given the quantity of plaster casts available in France. Excerpt
from D. Diderot and J.-B. le Rond D’Alembert, Encyclopédie ou dictionnaire
raisonné des sciences, des arts et des metiers . . . , new ed., Geneva, vol. 1,
1777, pp. 238–39 (translation Barbara Lasic). The French Academy in Rome is a
school of painting that King Louis XIV established in 1666, & one of the
most beautiful institu- tions of this great monarch for the glory of the
kingdom and the progress of the fine arts [...]. It was one of the greatest
causes for the perfection of art in France [...]; thus Le Brun thought that
young Frenchmen who intended to study the fine arts should go to Rome and spend
some time there. This is where the works of Michelangelo, Vignola, Domenichino,
Raphael and those of the ancient Greeks give silent lessons far superior to
those that our great living masters could give [...]. Italy has the uncontested
advantage and glory of having the richest mine of antique models that can serve
as guides to the modern artists, and enlighten them in the quest for ideal
beauty; of having revived in the world the arts that had been lost; of having
produced excellent artists of all types; and finally of having given lessons to
other people to whom it had previously given laws [...] [p. 139]. Italy is for
artists a true classical land as an Englishman calls it. Everything there
entices the eye of the painter, everything instructs him, everything awakens
his attention. Aside from modern statues, how many of those antiques, which by
their exact proportions and the elegant variety of their forms, served as
models to past artists and must serve to those of all centuries, does not the superb
Rome contain amid its walls? Although there are in France some very fine
statues like the Cincinnatus and a few others, we can state, without fear of
being mistaken, that there are none of the first rate, or of those that the
Italians call preceptive and that can be put in parallel with the Apollo, the
Antinoüs, the Laocoon, the Hercules, the Gladiator, the Faun, the Venus and
many more that decorate the Belvedere, the Palazzo Farnese, the Borghese
grounds and the gallery of Florence. The gallery Giustiniani alone is perhaps
richer in antique statues than the entire French kingdom. 19. James Northcote
(1746–1831) on the decline of the Antique as a model and on the thirst for
novelty in art. The pungent and lively conversations between the writer and art
critic William Hazlitt (1778–1830), and the painter James Northcote, were
published in various articles in The New Monthly Magazine in 1826 and then
collated in 1830, causing scandal for their frankness among contemporaries. The
passage selected is one of the most revealing testimonies on the growing
dissatisfaction with the Antique and the widespread demand for new forms of
art. Excerpts from William Hazlitt, Conversations of James Northcote, Esq.,
R.A., London, 1830, pp. 51–53. ‘Did you see Thorwaldsen’s things while you were
there? A young artist brought me all his designs the other day, as miracles
that I was to wonder at and be delighted with. But I could find nothing in [p.
52] them but repetitions of the Antique, over and over, till I was surfeited.’
‘He would be pleased at this.’ ‘Why, no! that is not enough: it is easy to
imitate the Antique: – if you want to last, you must invent something. The
other is only pouring liquors from one vessel into another, that become staler
and staler every time. We are tired of the Antique; yet at any rate, it is
better than the vapid imitation of it. The world wants something new, and will
have it. No matter whether it is better or worse, if there is but an infusion
of new life and spirit, it will go down to posterity; otherwise, you are soon
forgotten. Canova too, is nothing for the same reason – he is only a feeble
copy of the Antique; or a mixture of two things the most incompatible, that and
opera-dancing. But there is Bernini; he is full of faults, he has too much of
that florid, redundant, fluttering style, that was objected to Rubens; but then
he has given an appearance of flesh that was never given before. The Antique
always looks like marble, you never for a moment can divest yourself of the
idea; but go up to a statue of Bernini’s, and it seems as if it must yield to
your touch. This excellence [p. 53] he was the first to give, and therefore it
must always remain with him. It is true, it is also in the Elgin marbles; but
they were not known in his time; so that he indisputably was a genius. Then
there is Michael Angelo; how utterly different from the Antique, and in some
things how superior!’ 76 77. CATALOGUE. Notes to the reader support. All
drawings and prints are on paper. measurements: Mesurements of all works, both
exhibited and reproduced as comparative illustrations, are given height before
width, in millimeters for drawings and prints and in centimeters for paintings
and sculpture. inscriptions: Recto and verso indications for inscriptions are
given only for drawings. For prints it is assumed they are on the recto.
Abbreviations: u.l.: upper left; u.c.: upper centre; u.r.: upper right; c.l.:
centre left; c.r.: centre right; l.l.: lower left; l.c.: lower centre; l.r.:
lower right. The original spelling is always respected. provenance: Provenance
is given in chronological sequence, as completely as possible. Collectors’
names are given as listed in Lugt (abbreviated L., L. suppl.)
literature/exhibitions: Prints are included in the Exhibition references when
the actual impression catalogued here was shown; when another impression was
exhibited, it is mentioned under Literature. For exhibition catalogue entries
included in the Literature and Exhibition references, the author or authors are
given only when their initials are specified at the end of the entry. Otherwise
it is assumed that the entry was written by the compilers of the catalogue. If
an object has been illustrated in a publication, a figure or plate number is
included. If the object has been illustrated without a figure or plate number,
‘repr.’ is used. If nothing is specified, the object was not illustrated. For
exhibition catalogues, only the catalogue number is provided, as it is assumed
that it was reproduced. Otherwise, ‘not repr.’ is used. #1 Agostino dei
Musi, called Agostino Veneziano (Venice c. 1490–after 1536 Rome) After Baccio
Bandinelli (Gaiole, near Chianti 1493–1560 Florence) The Academy of Baccio
Bandinelli in Rome 1531 Engraving, state II of III 274 × 299 mm (plate), 278 ×
302 mm (sheet) Inscribed recto, l.c., on front of table support: ‘ACADEMIA . DI
BAC: / CHIO . . MDXXXI. /. A. V.’ selected literature: Heinecken 1778–90, vol.
2, p. 98; Bartsch 1803–21, vol. 14, pp. 314–15, no. 418; Pevsner 1940, pp.
38–42, fig. 5; Ciardi Duprè 1966, p. 161; Wittkower 1969, p. 232, fig. 70;
Oberhuber 1978, 314.418, repr.; Florence 1980, p. 264, no. 687; Roman 1984, pp.
81–84, fig. 62; Weil-Garris Brandt 1989, pp. 497–98, fig. 1; Landau and
Parshall 1994, p. 286, fig. 304; Barkan 1999, pp. 290–98, fig. 5.12; Fiorentini
1999, pp. 145–46, no. 29; Munich and Cologne 2002, p. 319, no. 110; Thomas
2005, pp. 3–14, figs 1–3; Hegener 2008, pp. 396–403 and 624–25, pl. 228;
Antwerp 2013, p. 26, repr.; Florence 2014, pp. 528–29, no. 77. BRANDIN .
provenance: Elizabeth Harvey-Lee, North Aston (Oxfordshire), from whom acquired
in 1995. IN . / ROMA . / IN LUOGO . DETTO / . BELVEDERE . / exhibitions:
Not previously exhibited. The Bellinger Collection, inv. no. 1995-047 This
renowned print by Agostino Veneziano after a design by Baccio Bandinelli, the
Florentine sculptor and draughts- man, depicts Bandinelli’s academy for artists
in the Belvedere in Rome, where he was granted the use of rooms by Pope Leo X
(r. 1513–21) and Pope Clement VII (r. 1523–34).1 We are informed of this by the
prominent inscription below the table, which renders this engraving a
particularly appropri- ate work to begin this catalogue, because as well as
being the first known representation of artists copying from statuettes
modelled after antique prototypes, it is the first recorded use of the word
‘accademia’ in conjunction with art and the training of artists.2 This term had
previously been used to describe informal gatherings of men to discuss liberal
or intellectual subjects, such as philosophy or literature.3 Though the scene
does not depict an art academy in the modern sense – the origins of which are
found some thirty years later in Vasari’s Accademia del Disegno4 – Bandinelli
made the association between art and intellectual endeavour very clear. His
design focuses on the fundamental elements of a young artist’s training,
namely, intensive study and copying of the antique sculptures in miniature
scattered around the room, replicated on the artists’ tablets. It is there-
fore evident that artistic academies were from the beginning conceived of as
humanistic educational institutions, reliant, among other things, on ancient
statues as sources of inspira- tion. There is a conspicuous absence here of
drawing from life, which would later become one of the central elements of
Italian and French academic practices.5 The scene also places emphasis on
disegno, a word that encompasses much more than its mere translation as
‘drawing’. It comprises the intellectual capacity to create any kind of art,
including painting and sculpture, as well as drawing itself.6 In Bandinelli’s
own words, his was an ‘Accademia par- ticolare del Disegno’.7 In the print
exhibited here, the almost claustrophobic room and closely bunched apprentices
imply that study was a collaborative endeavour in Bandinelli’s academy, with
discussion among the students encouraged in order that they might better
comprehend the objects of their study, and capture them more effectively on
paper. Bandinelli himself is seated on the right, wearing a fur-lined collar,
holding a statuette of a female nude for his students’ contem- plation. The
results of their efforts are drawn on paper placed on drawing boards, using
quills and ink pots; what appears to be a blotter rests on the near edge of the
table. The noctur- nal setting evokes an atmosphere of mystery and a sense that
the central candle, with its forcefully radiating light, has, as well as a
physical function, a symbolic one, to illuminate the secrets of art and
disegno. The theme of drawing at night recurs throughout this exhibition (cats
2, 23, 24, 34) and reflects a persistent belief that such a setting is
essential for stimulating the introspection necessary for artistic success. It
also implies diligence and commitment, the ability and will to continue working
through day and night, that is required from a master artist.8 For these
reasons, a candle or lamp often symbolises ‘Study’, as seen in Federico
Zuccaro’s allegorical drawing (see cat. 5, fig. 5). It also reveals a didactic
reliance on artificial light as preferable to natural light to emphasise the
contours of the sculptures and the contrasts of their planes, thereby
facilitating the copying process, an idea earlier espoused by Leonardo da Vinci
(with whom the young Bandinelli had personal contact) and later by Benvenuto
Cellini (1500–71).9 There is a striking interplay of the shadows cast by the
candlelight on the back walls, with the heads of both statues 80 81 and
artists overlapping one another. This may refer to a well- known passage from
Pliny’s Natural History: ‘The question as to the origin of the art of painting
is uncertain [. . .] but all agree that it began with tracing an outline around
a man’s shadow’.10 The central figure on the rear shelf casts an improbable
shadow, as the hand held perpendicular to the body is reflected on the wall as
upright and perpendicular to the ground. This was corrected in a copy after the
second state (British Museum, London), which is slightly smaller.11 The design
of this copy is more crudely executed than the original, and there are a number
of significant changes to the scene that are unique to this plate, which
suggests that it was created by someone other than Bandinelli.12 This
demonstrates the relative freedom of printmakers to make adjustments to
designs, and may help us to infer that this print was especially popular; such
changes would have necessitated a new plate, which would imply that demand
outstripped the supply, or that the original plate was under especially tight
control by a single owner.13 The male and female statues on the table are the
focus of the artists’ devotion, and are reminiscent of Apollo and Venus,
specifically of the Venus Pudica type.14 They are probably inspired by the
famous statues of the Apollo Belvedere (see p. 26, fig. 18 and cat. 5, fig. 1)
and Venus Felix (fig. 1), which stood in the Belvedere Court and were
constantly used by artists as ideal models.15 They would have been easily
acces- sible to Bandinelli while lodging at the Belvedere. The male figures may
alternatively be types after Hercules, a figure Fig. 1. Venus Felix and Cupid,
c. 200 ad, marble, 214 cm (h), Museo Pio-Clementino, Vatican Museums, Rome,
inv. 936 that is prevalent throughout Bandinelli’s work (see cat. 3). In fact,
Maria Grazia Ciardi Duprè identified the upper left male figure on the shelf as
a bronze statuette of Hercules Pomarius, now at the Victoria and Albert Museum,
London, and on that basis suggested the statuette be newly attributed to
Bandinelli.16 Many subsequent scholars have accepted this,17 but the
differences in the two figures’ poses leaves the present author unconvinced,
and it seems more likely that the figures in the print are generic, idealised
types. In an almost meta-narrative, the intense focus on antique statuary is
echoed even by the central male statuette, as he gazes at a miniature statuette
poised on his own outstretched palm, which twists back to face him, returning
his gaze (fig. 2). The three statues arrayed on the shelf along the back wall –
two male and one female – are all of the same type as those on the table, and
may be either copies or casts of them in wax or clay. The statuettes probably
represent objects sculpted by Bandinelli himself referencing the Antique;
Vasari tells us that while using the rooms at the Belvedere, Bandinelli made
‘many little figures [. . .] as of Hercules, Venus, Apollo, Leda, and other
fantasies of his own’.18 One of these survives in bronze, a Hercules Pomarius
at the Bargello, in Florence (fig. 3), and it resembles the figures in the
engraving.19 The produc- tion of small models in wax, clay or bronze –
many modelled on ancient prototypes – for young artists to practice drawing in
the workshop, was already common in the 15th century. Several were created, for
instance, by Lorenzo Ghiberti (c. 1381–1455) and Antonio Pollaiuolo (c.
1431–98).20 They Fig. 2. Detail of Veneziano’s engraving, statue gazing at an
even smaller statuette Fig. 3. Baccio Bandinelli, Hercules Pomarius, c. 1545,
bronze, 33.5 cm (h), Museo Nazionale del Bargello, Florence, inv. 281 Bronzi
served the purpose of familiarising young artists with the forms and poses of
antique models, allowing them to learn how to draw the three-dimensional human
figure from different angles on a flat surface. The juxtaposition of the
statuettes with several antique-style pots and vessels in the engraving
reinforces the connection between Bandinelli’s ‘academy’ and the classical
past, as does the fragment of a foot on the book that serves as a plinth for
the male figure on the right. The statuettes are positioned so that each faces
a slightly different direction, enabling the viewer to observe them from all
angles, just as the artists are instructed to do. Our participation is further
encouraged by the figure on the far left and by Bandinelli: both gaze outward
and seem to acknowledge our presence. The viewer is thus accorded a role as a
fellow student among the apprentices learning from Bandinelli in his academy.
This link with the academy was less explicit in the original version of
Bandinelli’s design. Ben Thomas drew attention to the first state of the print
(Ashmolean Museum, Oxford),21 in which the inscription – so prominent below the
table in the print exhibited here – was presented only in an abbreviated form
on the tablet hanging on the wall at the far right, without the word
‘academia’, and with only Veneziano’s monogram and the date 1530, a year
earlier than the present engraving. This tablet, deprived of the inscription in
the later states, became an awkwardly superfluous element of the composition.
Also missing in the first state are the drawings on the sheets of the artists
gathered around the table. In changing these elements in the second state, as
represented here,22 Bandinelli deliberately ensured there was no possibil- ity
of misinterpreting this as a literary, rather than artistic, endeavour; it also
serves as propaganda for the artist himself, as a dissemination of not only his
powers of design, but his role as a teacher and an innovator. This makes it all
the more surprising that on the current print, his name is inscribed as
‘Bacchio Brandin.’ rather than Bandinelli. He adopted the Bandinelli surname in
1529 to align himself with a noble family from Siena, thereby making himself
eligible for the Order of Santiago, which he was awarded by Emperor Charles V
in 1530.23 The inscription dates the print to 1531, after his adoption of this
new genealogy, and so must reflect an error on the part of the engraver,
Veneziano.24 In his self-portrait, seated at the table, Bandinelli also does
not wear the insignia of the Order of Santiago, as he does in his other
self-portraits (cats 2 and 3), and so the design for this print most likely
dates prior to the granting of this award in 1530. Tommaso Mozzati suggested a
date earlier than 1527, when the sack of Rome forced both artists to flee the
city, Veneziano to Mantua, Bandinelli first to Lucca and then Genoa.25 The
inscription itself tells us the design was made in Rome, depicting a room in
the Belvedere. If Veneziano engraved the design after the two artists went
their separate ways, it could explain how the mistake in nomenclature was
allowed to occur.26 Bandinelli’s relentless self-promotion and willingness to
rewrite his family tree to achieve noble status can be explained by his
upbringing. His father, Michelangelo di Viviano (1459–1528), was a prominent
goldsmith in Florence, but the family had lost much of its wealth and prestige
by the time his son was born in October 1493.27 As Bandinelli’s three siblings
left home or died young, he was essentially the only child, charged with
restoring the family’s social standing. His father encouraged his training as
an artist from an early age, as an apprentice within his own workshop.
Bandinelli also worked with the sculptor Gian Francesco Rustici (1474–1554),
learning from him the process of model- ling sculptures in wax and clay for
casting into bronze. This association no doubt provided the opportunity to meet
Rustici’s collaborator at the time on St John the Baptist Preaching (Florence
Cathedral, Baptistry), Leonardo da Vinci (1452– 1519). Bandinelli was a staunch
Medici supporter, even throughout the family’s exile, and this cemented his
financial success as soon as two Medici popes came to power (Giovanni de’
Medici as Leo X in 1513 and Giulio de’ Medici as Clement VII in 1523). However,
it also inspired rabid criticism from many Florentines, who were Republican by
nature. 82 83 Our view of him is also coloured by Vasari’s
biography, in which Bandinelli is treated as the villain to his heroic rival,
Michelangelo.28 Such a bias is perhaps not completely unwar- ranted, as all
three prints on display here by Bandinelli reflect his insistence not only on
publicising his own image, but in vaunting his abilities as both a teacher of
the next generation of artists, as well as having a special and privi- leged
relationship to the Antique. This betrays the arrogance 29 that is also evident
in his writings, and may well have contributed to the negative opinions of his
character that persist to this day. rh 1 Vasari tells us that Bandinelli was
given use of the Belvedere (Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87, vol. 5, pp. 246,
250) but he never mentions an academy (Barkan 1999, p. 290). This engraving and
cat. 2, as well as Bandinelli’s own account in his autobiographical Memoriale
(which exists in a single manuscript in the Biblioteca Nazionale in Florence,
Cod. Pal. Bandinelli 12, and is transcribed in Colasanti 1905 and Barocchi
1971–77, vol. 2, pp. 1359– 1411) are the only evidence we have for the existence
of Bandinelli’s academy. 2 A less explicit link between art and the term
‘accademia’ is found on engravings after Leonardo da Vinci’s designs of knot
work, which are inscribed ‘Academia Leonardi Vinci’ (see Pevsner 1940, p. 25;
Roman 1984, p. 81; and Goldstein 1996, p. 10 and frontispiece). For Bandinelli
as the first to use this word in conjunction with art training, see Pevsner
1940, p. 39; Barkan 1999, p. 290; Munich and Cologne 2002, p. 319 under no.
110; Thomas 2005, p. 8; Hegener 2008, pp. 401 and 403. 3 Visual arts were
regarded as applied disciplines rather than liberal arts and thus unsuitable
for intellectual discussion (Pevsner 1940, pp. 30–31; Goldstein 1996, p. 147;
Cologne and Munich 2002, p. 319 under no. 110; Thomas 2005, pp. 8–9). 4
Although Vasari was the instigator and organiser of the Accademia, officially
it was opened in 1563 by Cosimo de Medici (Pevsner 1940, p. 42). For more about
the Accademia see Goldstein 1975; Waz ́bin ́ski 1987; Barzman 1989; Barzman
2000. 5 Goldstein 1996, chap. 8; Barkan 1999, p. 292; Costamagna 2005. 6
Goldstein 1996, p. 14. 7 Barocchi 1971–77, vol. 2, pp. 1384–85. 8 Roman 1984,
p. 83; Munich and Cologne 2002, p. 319; Thomas 2005, pp.6–7. 9 Weil-Garris
1981, pp. 246–47, note 39; Barkan 1999, p. 292; Hegener 2008, p. 401. 10 ‘De
picturae initiis incerta [...] quaestio est [...] omnes umbra hominis lineis
circumducta, itaque primam talem’: Pliny the Elder, Nat. Hist., 35.5. See Pliny
1999, pp. 270–71. 11 The British Museum print’s inventory number is V,2.136. 12
Some changes are: the removal of Veneziano’s monogram, the underlining of
‘Belvedere’ in the inscription and the figure sketches on the artists’ sheets
(Thomas 2005, p. 12). 13 Thomas 2005, p. 12. 14 For other statues of the Venus
Pudica type known in the early Renaissance, see Tolomeo Speranza 1988. 15 16 17
18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 Hegener 2008, p. 401. For Venus Felix, see
Spinola 1996–2004, vol. 1, p. 97, PN 23 and fig. 14 on p. 98. Ciardi Duprè
1966, p. 161. The inventory number of the statuette is A.76-1910. Or they have
at least restated Ciardi Duprè’s thesis without contestation. This includes
Fiorentini 1999, p. 145; Thomas 2005, p. 11, note 21; and Hegener 2008, p. 403.
Paul Joannides disagrees and attributes the statuette in the Victoria and
Albert Museum to Michelangelo, saying that it in turn inspired Bandinelli to
create his own version of Hercules Pomarius, now in the Bargello, in Florence
(fig. 3), which is widely accepted as by Bandinelli (Joannides 1997, pp.
16–20). Volker Krahn also expressed doubt that it is by Bandinelli (Florence
2014, p. 374). ‘Fece molte figurine [...] come Ercoli, Venere, Apollini, Lede,
ed altre sue fantasie’ (Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87, vol. 5, p. 251). See
Florence 2014, pp. 372–75, no. 32. Fusco 1982; Ames-Lewis 2000b, pp. 52–55. See
also Aymonino’s essay in this catalogue, pp. 22–23. Thomas 2005, p. 11. The
print’s inventory number is WA1863.1759. There is also a third state owned by
the Davison Arts Center of Wesleyan University, CT, in which the publisher
Antonio Salamanca’s name is added at the bottom right (Thomas 2005, p. 12).
Bartsch noted only one state (the second), but was also aware of the copy of
the second state discussed here (Bartsch 1803–21, pp. 314–15, no. 418). The
sheet exhibited here may repre- sent a later impression of the second state, as
the underlining of ‘Belvedere’ has become so worn that it is only visible below
the first ‘el’ and the ‘r’. There is some debate as to when Bandinelli received
this honour. Scholars usually agree on 1529, but in his autobiography,
Bandinelli said it occurred in the same year as the emperor’s coronation, which
was in February 1530. According to Weil-Garris Brandt, the confusion arose
because the Florentine year ended in March (Weil-Garris Brandt 1989, p. 501,
note 26). Ben Thomas agrees with her and says the emperor sent news of the
honour to Bandinelli from Innsbruck, after departing from Bologna on 22 March
1530 (Thomas 2005, p. 9 and note 12). This is perhaps not the only print to exhibit
such a mistake, as Bandinelli, in his Memoriale, bemoaned a similar error that
had to be corrected on a print of his Martyrdom of St Lawrence (Barocchi
1971–77, vol. 2, p. 1396). However, this complaint itself is inaccurate, as the
inscription of ‘Baccius Brandin. Inven.’ on the St Lawrence print would have
been a correct appella- tion at the time of its execution in 1524, well before
Bandinelli’s adoption of his new name. Such an anachronism has prompted
speculation that the Memoriale is not actually by Bandinelli, but rather a
forgery by one of his descendants (Thomas 2005, p. 10); nevertheless, it
represents a familial dissatisfaction with the dissemination of Bandinelli’s
designs once removed from his control. Minonzio 1990, p. 686 and Florence 2014,
p. 528 under no. 77. However, by 1530, the date on the first state of this
print, both Veneziano and Bandinelli had returned to Rome (Thomas 2005, p. 11).
This does not preclude Veneziano from having engraved the design during their
separa- tion. It is unlikely that the design was executed at this later date
because of the absence of the insignia of the Order of Santiago; even if the
image were retrospective, it seems unlikely that Bandinelli would miss an
opportunity for self-aggrandisement. For Bandinelli’s biography, see
Bandinelli’s own Memoriale (see note 1), Vasari’s account in Bettarini and
Barocchi 1966–87, vol. 5, pp. 239–76, and more concise surveys in Weil-Garris
1981, pp. 224–42 and Waldman 2004, pp. xv–xxviii. Weil-Garris 1981, p. 224.
Pevsner 1940, p. 42. 2. Enea Vico ( Parma 1523–1567 Ferrara) After Baccio
Bandinelli (Gaiole, near Chianti 1493–1560 Florence) The Academy of Baccio
Bandinelli c. 1545/50 Engraving, state II of III 314 × 486 mm (sheet) Inscribed
recto, u.r., on left page of open book: ‘Baccius / Bandi: / nellus / invent’;
on right page: ‘Enea vi: / go Par: / megiano / sculpsit.’ Inscribed verso, l.
c., on additional paper fragment, now attached, in pencil: ‘Eneas Vico ca 1520
– ca 1570 / Nagler XXII/515 bl 49 / Ein Hauptblatt’; and below, in pencil, ‘B.
Vol 15 B 305 No. 49’; l.l. in pencil: ‘£ 3013 60’ [the rest illegible]
provenance: Venator & Hanstein, Cologne, 3 November 1998, lot 2722, from
whom acquired. selected literature: Heinecken 1778–90, vol. 2, pp. 98–99;
Bartsch 1803–21, vol. 15, pp. 305–06, no. 49; Passavant 1860–64, vol. 6, p.
122, no. 49; Pevsner 1940, pp. 40–42, fig. 6; Ciardi Duprè 1966, pp. 163–64,
fig. 26; Goldstein 1975, p. 147, fig. 1; Weil-Garris 1981, pp. 235–36, fig. 14;
Roman 1984, pp. 84–87, fig. 66; Spike 1985, 305.49-I and 305.49-II, repr.;
Landau and Parshall 1994, p. 286, fig. 303; Barkan 1999, pp. 290–98, fig. 5.13;
Fiorentini 1999, pp. 146–47, no. 30; Houston and Ithaca 2005–06, pp. 86–88, no.
21; Thomas 2005, pp. 12–14, fig. 5; Hegener 2008, pp. 404–12 and 625–26, pl.
232; Compton Verney and Norwich 2009–10, p. 18, fig. 15; Florence 2014, pp.
530–31, no. 78. 84 85 exhibitions: Not previously exhibited. Katrin Bellinger
collection, inv. no. 1998-039 This print by Enea Vico after a design by Baccio
Bandinelli depicts a scene similar to that in his earlier self-styled acad- emy
(cat. 1), but it has been expanded and amplified: the table which occupies all
of the space in Agostino Veneziano’s engraving has been moved to the right side
of Vico’s print, and the perspective is widened to allow a larger room to come
into view. The number of apprentices has grown from six to twelve, the books
from one to six and the antique sculptures from five to ten. The style of the
print, as well as Vico’s chronology, suggest that it is not the Belvedere acad-
emy that is depicted here, but a second academy, established by Bandinelli some
twenty years later after his return to Florence in 1540.1 As in the earlier
print, the classical figu- rines appear to be generalised interpretations of
antique statuary rather than exact copies of specific models, although they
have been diversified here by the addition of a horse’s head and a bust of a
Roman emperor on the shelf. Added to the fragments strewn about the room are
skeletons and skulls, which are now given a status equal to classical sources
as inspiration for artists. These refer to the growing tendency to study the
anatomy of the human body in Italian work- shops around the mid-16th century,
mainly through skele- tons, a practice that was codified by Benvenuto Cellini
(1500–71) some twenty years later in his Sopra i Principi e l’ Modo d’Imparare
l’Arte del Disegno, in which he advised artists to copy anatomical parts in
order to attain skill as draughts- men.2 While Bandinelli’s representation is
one of the first to document the spread of anatomical study among young
artists, the practice was formalised in the second half of the 16th century in
the curricula of the first academies, where sophisticated anatomy lectures were
given and dissections were performed.3 Both antique sculptures and skeletons
became common elements in subsequent representations of artists’ workshops,
studios and academies, as seen in Stradanus’ studio image and Cort’s engraving
after it (cat. 4). This is also reflected in an etching by Pierfrancesco
Alberti of a painter’s studio or academy (fig. 1), which shows a more
structured curriculum of studies involving anatomical dissection, geometry, the
Antique and architectural drawing, closely reflecting the disciplines taught in
the earliest Italian academies, particularly the Roman Accademia di San Luca.4
The light source is another difference between the two prints after Bandinelli.
The single candle in Veneziano’s engraving has become three forcefully radiating
fires, with the candle on the table now partially dissolving the face of the
student standing to its right. The importance of studying at night, and the
diligence and introspection this implies, is again a primary theme. Another
engraving after a Bandinelli design, The Combat of Cupid and Apollo,5 also
places impor- tance on fire as a source of not only visual illumination, but as
a symbol of philosophical and spiritual revelation. The recurrence of this
motif has been regarded as indicative of Bandinelli’s neo-Platonic leanings;
the flame symbolises divine Reason and its power to defeat the darker, profane
vices of the human condition, allowing man to perceive true, celestial beauty,
even while bound to the terrestrial realm.6 Indeed, the very concept of an
academy is closely inter- twined with Neo-Platonism, as it was widely
considered that the first academy founded since the end of classical times was
that of Marsilio Ficino (1433–99) in Florence, which was specifically based on
the philosophy and teachings espoused by Plato.7 Bandinelli himself is
again represented, but he now stands at the far right, instructing the two
students who face him. He also now wears the cross of St James, as befits a
knight of the Order of Santiago, which he was awarded in 1530, and which is
seen in his other self-portrait (cat. 3). The same insignia is placed
prominently above the fireplace between the two cupids. Bandinelli’s design
therefore takes on a more propagandistic role, and has been described by some
scholars as a ‘manifesto’ for his academy.8 The staging here stresses
Bandinelli’s nobility, humanism and sophistication, while the importance of
copying from antique sculpture is rather downplayed, with the casts relegated
to the margins of the scene. None of the artists is now looking at the casts;
their focus is instead inward, as best exemplified by the figure who sits at
the centre of the composition, with his head in his hand. Only one of the
students’ drawings is visible, on the tablet of the standing apprentice at the
centre of the scene, and the female nude emerging from his stylus is unrelated
to any of the sculptures surrounding him, although clearly referring to a model
all’antica. She must therefore be a product of his mind, and so the emphasis
here is on the artist’s memory and imagination; the skeletons and antique
sculptures were essential for building his graphic vocabulary of the human
form, but they have been discarded now that he has successfully internalised
them and no longer needs to copy them directly.9 The exercise of memory was one
of the central principles of the pedagogical practices of the Italian
Renaissance, going back as far as Leon Battista Alberti (1404– 72) and Leonardo
(1452–1519).10 Giorgio Vasari (1511–74), in his Vite explicitly recommended
that ‘the best thing is to draw men and women from the nude and thus fix in the
memory by constant exercise the muscles of the torso, back, legs, arms and
knees, with the bones underneath. Then one may be sure that, through much
study, attitudes in any position can be drawn by help of the imagination
without one having the living forms in the view’.11 The importance of memory
was also stressed by Cellini in his treatise.12 There are three states of this
print, differentiated by the inscriptions.13 In the first state, the
inscription identifying Bandinelli as the designer on the left page of the book
on the upper right is included, as is the address of the Roman pub- lisher,
Pietro Palumbo, below the sleeping dog in the lower centre (not seen here). In the
second state, Enea Vico’s name is added on the right-hand page of the same
book, in a differ- ent script. In the final state, the name of Palumbo’s
successor as the publisher of this print, Gaspar Alberto, is added below the
skulls in the lower centre. Nicole Hegener believed there was an additional
state between the first and second, repre- sented by a version at Yale in which
Agostino’s Veneziano’s name was inscribed on the right-hand page of the book
before it was replaced by Vico’s.14 However, it was noted in 2005 that this was
added by hand in pen-and-ink, and was therefore just a modification of the
first state of the print.15 The print exhibited here was also believed to be a
unique 86 87 Fig. 1. Pierfrancesco Alberti, Painters’ Academy, c.
1603–48, etching, 412 × 522 mm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, RP-P-1952-373
example of a state between the first and second, as both Bandinelli’s and
Vico’s names are present on the book, but Palumbo’s is missing.16 However,
close examination of the verso reveals extensive abrasion over the area where
Palumbo’s address would have been. The inscription was therefore erased from
this sheet, and does not reflect any changes to the original plate. It must,
therefore, be an example of the second state, which was subsequently altered
for an unknown reason. Palumbo’s name on the first state also makes the dating
of this print difficult. On stylistic grounds, most scholars date it to c.
1545/50,17 but Palumbo was not active 1731: Cellini 1731, pp. 155–62 (on the
study of the bones and muscles, pp. 157–62). See Olmstead Tonelli 1984, esp. p.
101. See also Schultz 1985; Ottawa, Vancouver and elsewhere 1996–97; London,
Warwick and elsewhere 1997–98; Carlino 2008–09. Roman 1984, p. 91. See
Appendix, no. 7 for the statutes of the Accademia di San Luca. Repr. in
Panofsky 1962, fig. 107. Panofsky 1962, pp. 148–51. Goldstein 1996, p. 14. For
the neo-Platonic movement during the Renais- sance, see Panofsky 1962, chap. 5.
Compton Verney and Norwich 2009–10, p. 18; Florence 2014, p. 520. Thomas 2005,
pp. 13–14; Houston and Ithaca 2005–06, p. 87. Alberti 1972, pp. 96–99 (book
3.55); Leonardo 1956, vol. 1, p. 47, chap. 65–66. See also Aymonino’s essay in
this catalogue, p. 33. Brown 1907, p. 210; Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87, vol.
1, pp. 114–15. Cellini 1731, p. 157. Bartsch mistakenly conflated the second
and third states and therefore only listed two states (Bartsch 1803–21, vol.
15, pp. 305–06). He was corrected by Passavant (1860–64, vol. 6, p. 122, no.
49) and this is accepted by subsequent scholarship (i.e. Thomas 2005, p. 13).
Hegener 2008, p. 405. Houston and Ithaca 2005–06, p. 88, note 1. See also
Florence 2014, p. 530. Venator & Hanstein sale, Cologne, 3 November 1998,
lot 2722. Pevsner remarks on the characteristic ‘Mid-Cinquecento Mannerism’ of
Vico’s print in contrast to Veneziano’s style, which is reminiscent of Raimondi
(Pevsner 1940, p. 40). The following agree on the approximate dates c. 1545/50:
Weil-Garris 1981, p. 235; Thomas 2005, p. 13; Houston and Ithaca 2005–06, p.
86; Florence 2014, p. 530. Fiorentini suggested c. 1550 because after that date
Vico used ‘sculptere’ on his works, rather than ‘sculpsit’ as here (Fiorentini
1999, p. 147). However, the form of Vico’s inscription as ‘Enea Vigo’ on this
print is completely unique, as his other extant works are signed either ‘E.V.’,
‘Enea Vico’ or variations on ‘AENEAS VICUS’ (Thomas 2005, p. 13). Therefore we
must be very cautious in making any assumptions based on this particular
inscription. London 2001–02, p. 230. He continued working until c. 1586.
Florence 2014, p. 531. 3. Anonymous, 16th-century Italian Artist After Niccolò
della Casa (Lorraine fl. 1543–48) After Baccio Bandinelli (Gaiole, near Chianti
1493–1560 Florence) Self-Portrait of Baccio Bandinelli, Seated 1548 Engraving,
416 × 306 mm
Datedl.c.:‘1548’;inscribedl.r:‘A.S.Excudebat.’;inscribedl.c.inpencil:‘No
7.’andbelowtor.inpencil:‘No 7’. With the initials of the publisher, probably
Antonio Salamanca (1478–1562). provenance: Léon Millet, Paris (his stamp, not
in Lugt, in blue ink on the verso: ‘Léon Millet / 13 rue des Abbesses’ and
below, printed in black ink: ‘12 Mars 1897’);1 Bassenge, Berlin, 3 December
2003, lot 5155, from whom acquired. selected literature: Heinecken 1778–90,
vol. 2, p. 90; Bartsch 1854–76, vol. 15, pp. 279–80; Nagler 1966, vol. 1, p.
542, under no. 1266; Le Blanc 1854-88, vol. 3, p. 414, nos. 1–2; Steinmann
1913, pp. 96-97, note 8; Florence 1980, pp. 264, 266, no. 690; Los Angeles,
Toledo and elsewhere 1988–89, p. 76–77, no. 20; Fiorentini 1999, pp. 153–54,
no. 34, fig. 34 (see also pp. 150–53, under no. 33); Fiorentini and Rosenberg
2002, p. 37, fig. 20, pp. 38, 42, 44; Houston and Ithaca 2005–06, pp. 32–34,
no. 1 (J. Clifton); Hegener 2008, pp. 391–96, version II, fig. 57, p. 617–18,
no. 16 (see also pp. 380–91, under version I); Florence 2014, pp. 526–27, no.
76 (T. Mozzati). before c. 1562 at Sant’ Agostino in Rome, Bandinelli’s death.
Tommaso Mozzati speculated that Bandinelli transferred his design to Vico
before 1546, when the engraver left Florence for Rome, and that the publication
may have been delayed by a deteriorating relationship between the two
artists.19 If Vico intentionally withheld the design until after Bandinelli’s
death, it might explain how Palumbo became its first publisher more than a
decade later. 1 2 Pevsner 1940, pp. 40–41; Houston and Ithaca 2005–06, p. 86.
This engrav- ing, cat. 1 and Bandinelli’s own writings in his Memoriale are the
only evidence we have for the existence of his academies (see cat. 1, note 1).
Weil-Garris 1981, pp. 246–47, note 39. Cellini’s fragmentary treatise was
probably written during the last two decades of his life but published only 88
89 which post-dates rh exhibitions: Not previously exhibited. Katrin Bellinger
collection, inv. no. 2003-020 This engraving reproduces, in reverse and with
variations in detail, an unfinished engraving by Niccolò della Casa, based on a
lost drawing by Bandinelli.2 It is unclear why the Della Casa engraving, which
is known in only a few impressions, was never finished. The present engraving
is smaller than its model, resulting in a few compositional differences. It was
attributed to Nicolas Beatrizet (c. 1507/15–1573) by Erna Fiorentini and
Raphael Rosenberg and while this was accepted by James Clifton, it was rejected
by Nicole Hegener and Tommaso Mozzati.3 Until further information comes to
light, it is perhaps safer to attribute it to an unidentified Italian engraver
working in Rome in the mid-16th century. Hegener identified a further state
with the added inscription at centre right, ‘effigies / Bacci Bandinelli sculp
/ florentini’ and Karl Heinrich von Heinecken mentioned yet another without
inscriptions (untraced).4 If Bandinelli’s self-portrait inserted among his
students in his academies (cats 1–2) emphasises his role as teacher and mentor,
this image speaks of a solitary and relentless self-promoter.5 By 1548, the
engraving’s date, Bandinelli had achieved great success. He had served two
Popes, Leo X (Giovanni de’ Medici) and Clement VII (Giulio de’ Medici), for
whom he had carried out several important commissions including the
classicising Orpheus and Cerberus (Palazzo Medici Riccardi, Florence, c. 1519)
modelled after the Apollo Belvedere, the monumental Hercules and Cacus (Piazza
della Signoria, Florence, 1523–34) and the papal tombs in Santa Maria sopra
Minerva (1536–41).6 He was currently serving the Grand Duke Cosimo I de’
Medici. And yet, it was Baccio’s close alliance with the Medici, coupled with
his on- going rivalry with Michelangelo, a staunch anti-Medicean Republican,
and others, like Benvenuto Cellini (1500–71) that denied him the full respect
and admiration of his Florentine contemporaries. His intense competitiveness
and difficult character only exacerbated his contemporaries’ widespread dislike
of him.7 Projecting strength, power and authority, this arresting image,
clearly intended for circulation, was no doubt Baccio’s attempt to right those
perceived wrongs.8 By fusing motifs from his own work with motifs from antique
sculpture – absorbed and recast – Bandinelli sought to elevate his status and
rank and to assert his position while defending his work by associating it with
the art of Greece and Rome.9 The multi-layered and intertexual combination of
themes and references that resulted contributes to the engraving’s enigmatic
allure and demands careful interpretation. Significantly, it is the first image
in the exhibition to demon- strate how Antique imagery could be used by an
artist to promote his own art and his own achievements. The engraving shows us
a man of great physical presence, seated as though enthroned. His elevation is
enhanced by a rich costume – the luxurious fur-lined cloak nonchalantly slides
off one shoulder – more typical of an aristocrat than an artist. Emblazoned on
his chest is the cross of St James, the emblem of the prestigious 12th-century
Spanish military Order of Santiago, conferred on Bandinelli in 1530 by the Holy
Roman Emperor Charles V who over- ruled protests that it was unmerited.
Bandinelli took great pride in the honour, justifiably, since he was the only
artist to be awarded the cross of St James, which he included in other
self-portraits (see cat. 2).10 Immediately below the sharp lower point of the
cross his prominent codpiece protrudes through the folds of his tunic, an
unsubtle reference to his virility. His ‘progeny’ – a selection of his small
models and statu- ettes – are seen throughout. Proprietorially and prominently
cradled, and elevated on its own column base, is the figure of Hercules, the
son of Zeus, who heroically carried out the Twelve Labours. Hercules played a
central role in Bandinelli’s work.11 His near obsession with the demi-god, the
embodi- ment of strength in the face of adversity, is demonstrated in Hercules’
constant appearance – in bronze, marble, stucco and drawing – throughout
Bandinelli’s career.12 And since Hercules was the mythical founder of Florence
and an exemplum much favoured by the Medici, in linking his own image so
closely to the hero, Bandinelli was also referencing his association with his
native city and its ruling house.13 Hercules was the perfect foil to David,
another protector of Florence, and to represent the hero gave Baccio the
opportu- nity to display his mastery of the muscular male nude in heroic and
often violent action. Bandinelli also holds a rather different figure of
Hercules in the della Casa engraving, c. 1544 and in his grand painted
self-portrait of c. 1550 (Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, Boston) he proudly
displays a preparatory drawing for the Hercules and Cacus his most spectacular
and ambitious sculpture.14 This colossal group, – a pendant to Michelangelo’s
David – and a commission that he had taken away from Michelangelo, brought him
considerable fame despite the unfavourable reception that it received on its
unveiling in 1534.15 In effect, Hercules was Bandinelli’s calling card and his
prominence in his self-portraits is unsurprising.16 Small-scale, classicising
models made in wax and terra- cotta such as those seen here and in his other
prints (cats 1–2), were central to Bandinelli’s work as tools for teaching, and
as preparation for large-scale sculpture; many were translated into bronze, as
independent statuettes.17 Here, for example, the pose of the male nude seen
from behind standing in contrapposto at the right anticipates that of Adam in
Baccio’s Adam and Eve group of 1551 (Bargello, Florence).18 Perhaps because
Bandinelli was still working out the pose or perhaps to give the figure the
aura of a damaged antique, the left arm is missing below the elbow; several of
the other figurines in the engraving derive from the Antique but have been, as
it were, naturalised into Bandinelli’s own idiom. On equal footing with the
statuette of Hercules that he holds are the two standing female nudes on the
left, also elevated on a column shaft. They derive from the Cnidian Venus of
the 4th century bc, among the most famous works of the Greek sculptor,
Praxiteles, which was probably known Fig. 1. Baccio Bandinelli, A
Standing Female Figure, c. 1515, red chalk, 410 × 242 mm, private collection,
Switzerland Fig. 2. Giulio Bonasone, Saturn Seated on a Cloud Devouring a
Statue, c. 1555–70, etching and engraving, 254 × 154 mm, The British Museum,
Department of Prints and Drawings, London, H,5.137 Fig. 3. Anonymous, Ferrarese
School, Fortitude, playing card, c. 1465, engraving, 179 × 100 mm, The British
Museum, Department of Prints and Drawings, London, 1895,0915.36 90
91 Fig. 4. Amico Aspertini, Lion Attacking a Horse, pen and light
brown ink, 107 × 146 mm, Staatliche Museen, Kupferstichtkabinett, Berlin, KdZ
25020 to Bandinelli through a Roman copy.19 Intent on demonstrat- ing his full
knowledge of the statue Baccio presents one woman frontally, while the other,
headless, is seen from behind.20 Slim and regularly proportioned, the Cnidian
Venus was Bandinelli’s preferred female type and examples abound in his
sculpted and graphic work.21 A highly finished red chalk drawing (private
collection Switzerland, fig. 1) compares well with the engraved nude on the
left.22 The foreground is occupied with further statuettes: another Hercules
stands on a pedestal on the left and five male torsos are scattered on the
ground at his feet. While they loosely evoke the Antique – the two on the lower
left, for example, recall the Belvedere Torso (p. 26, fig. 23), they have
become generalised.23 Headless and limbless, like antique fragments, they
suggest once more that Bandinelli was equating his work with that of the
ancients. The lion has been interpreted diversely and Bandinelli may well have
intended multi-layered interpretation. It has widely been seen as a heraldic
Medici lion (marzocco) and, as such, a reference to Bandinelli’s favoured
position with the Medici as well as his loyalty to their regime.24 Interpreted
as devour- 25 ing a lower thigh and knee, the lion has also been seen as a
symbol of the artist’s prowess in sculpture. A more complex explanation
suggests a link with Saturn devouring a boulder, a subject illustrated in a
print by Giulio Bonasone (fig. 2), which is accompanied by the motto, ‘in
pulverem reverteris’ (‘unto dust shalt thou return’).26 As such, Bandinelli is
not merely subjugating a wild animal but also triumphing over Time.27 More
simply, the lion may also refer to Bandinelli’s favourite hero, Hercules, who
conquered the Nemean lion, or evoke Fortitude whose traditional attributes were
a lion and a broken column, here transformed into a plinth (fig. 3).28 Finally,
it may be that Bandinelli was again referencing the Antique: the Lion Attacking
a Horse – part of a colossal Hellenistic group (Palazzo dei Conservatori, Rome)
– in Bandinelli’s day, a limbless fragment on the The fragment was considered
‘of such excellence that Michelangelo judged it to be most marvellous’.31 There
has been much speculation about Bandinelli’s pose in the engraving. It might,
in fact, refer to the Belvedere Torso,32 as ‘restored’ in an engraving by
Giovanni Antonio da Brescia (1485–1525) of c. 1515 (fig. 5).33 The arrangement
of his legs is also close, in reverse to that of Laocoön, (p. 26, fig. 19), a
direct copy of which, in marble (c. 1520–25, Florence, Uffizi) com- missioned
by Leo X, was one of Baccio’s greatest successes.34 His preparatory drawing for
the sculpture also in the Uffizi (fig. 6) shows him seated in a comparable pose
as seen here.35 Once again, therefore, we see the sculptor referencing and
promoting his own work, employing the associative authority of Antique imagery.
In sum, Bandinelli presents himself here not only with the strength and
fortitude of a modern Hercules who successfully vanquished his adversaries but
also as the greatest, most recognisable hero- martyr and father from antiquity,
Laocoön, with his sculpted ‘offspring’ triumphant. Weil-Garris 1981, pp.
236–37. For the painting, see O. Tostmann, in Florence 2014, pp. 510–13, no.
69, repr.; Mozzati 2014, pp. 458–63. For a full discussion of the statue, see
Vossilla 2014, pp. 156–67, repr.; Florence 2014, p. 573, no. VII. For Herculean
imagery in the engraving, see Hegener 2008, pp. 382–86, 389–91, 395–96. Barkan
1999, p. 304; Krahn 2014, pp. 324–31. As first observed by Bruce Davis in Los
Angeles, Toledo and elsewhere 1988–89, p. 77. For the sculpture, see D.
Heikamp, in Florence 2014, pp. 314–15, no. 22, repr. He also appears, in
adapted form, in other works by the sculptor (Fiorentini 1999, p. 152). First
noted by B. Davis, in Los Angeles, Toledo and elsewhere 1988–89, p. 77; Barkan
1999, pp. 308–09, fig. 5.19. One half expects to see to a third figure to
complete the ‘Three Graces’. On the use of this double-view and his drawings
that may relate to these figures, see Fiorentini 1999, pp. 151–52. Barkan 1999,
pp. 309–12; V. Krahn, in Florence 2014, pp. 356–59, no. 28. B. Davis in Los
Angeles, Toledo and elsewhere 1988–89, p. 77. The drawing was formerly with
Yvonne Tan Bunzl (Bunzl 1987, no. 5, repr.; see also V. Krahn, in Florence
2014, p. 356, fig. 1). Other copies by Bandinelli after the same statue, one in
red chalk, the other, in pen and ink, are on a double- sided sheet in in the
Biblioteca Reale, Turin (Bertini 1958, p. 17, no. 37; Barkan 1999, p. 311,
figs. 5.21, 5.22). The same Cnidian Venus type occurs at left in his drawing,
Four Female Nudes, in the Art Gallery of Toronto, 2006/432 (repr. in Aldega and
Gordon 2003, p. 8, no. 1). A woman very similar to that engraved at left both
in pose, body type and hairstyle, appears on a sheet in the Louvre, formerly
classed as Bandinelli and now given to Giovanni Bandini (1540–1599), Viatte
2011, pp. 246–47, R2, repr. Houston and Ithaca 2005–06, p. 34. Of course, they
could also be a further Herculean reference, as the Torso was in the
Renaissance believed to be that of Hercules (Haskell and Penny 1981, p. 313).
Fiorentini 1999, p. 150, followed by Hegener 2008, p. 388, considered one of
the torsos, the second from the left, to be based on the torso of a satyr now
in the Villa Barbarini, Castel Gandolfo, Rome, which was in the Ciampolini
collection in the Renaissance (Liverani 1989, pp. 92, no. 34, 94–95, figs.
34.1–4). Given the differences in pose, the present author cannot accept this
view. Bandinelli adapted the pose of the Torso Belvedere for his red chalk
drawing, A Nude Man, Seated on a Grassy Bank in the Courtauld Gallery, as noted
by Ruth Rubinstein (Cambridge 1988, pp. 26–27, no. 8, repr.); see also Barkan
1999, pp. 308–09, fig 5.17. Hegener 2008, p. 383. Houston and Ithaca 2005–06,
p. 34. T. Mozzati, in Florence 2014, p. 527, who reports that this view is
shared by Mino Gabriele. That author notes (repeating Massari 1983, p. 125)
that the concept is paralleled in a passage from Ovid’s Metamorphosis
(15.236–38). However, it is also part of a famous passage from Genesis 3:19:
‘In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the
ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt
thou return.’ For the print, see Massari 1983, vol. 1, p. 125, no. 223, repr.
T. Mozzati, in Florence 2014, p. 527, who also considers that Bandinelli holds
a complete statuette, not a fragment like the others in the print, as a modern manifestation
of classicism. Zucker 1980, p. 185, no. 53-A (136), repr.; Zucker 2000, p. 47,
.036a. See also Ripa’s illustrated edition of 1603 (Buscaroli 1992, pp. 142–44,
repr.). Fiorentini 1999, p. 151; Hegener 2008, p. 383. For the statue: Haskell
and Penny 1981, pp. 250–51, no. 54, fig. 128; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, pp.
236–37, no. 185. Faietti and Kelescian 1995, pp. 220–21, no. 4; Bober and
Rubinstein 2010, p. 237, fig. 185a. Aldrovandi 1556, p. 270, cited and
translated by Bober and Rubinstein 2010, p. 236. As proposed by Hegener (2008,
pp. 380, 382, 389–90) who considered his arms to be based on those of Christ in
Michelangelo’s Last Judgment. Zucker 1980, p. 78, no. 5 (100), repr.; Zucker
1984, pp. 350–51, .028, repr. The pose also anticipates Bandinelli’s God the
Father sculpture of the 1550s in S. Croce, Florence (Florence 2014, pp. 595–98,
no. XVIII, repr.). Although intended as a gift for François I, it never reached
its intended recipient and remained with the next Pope Clement VII, in Florence.
Bober and Rubinstein 2010,pp. 165–66, no. 122b. Capecchi (2014, pp. 129–55)
provides a thorough account of the project. D. Cordellier, in Paris 2000–01,
pp. 237–40, no. 74, repr. 29 Aspertini (1472–1552) (fig.4;
Kupferstichtkabinett, Berlin).30 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 avl Rhea Blok
has noted (e-mail, 12 August 2014) that the same collector’s mark is found on
Henri Mauperché’s etching, L’Ange conseillant Tobie, with A. & D. Martinez
(Paris 2003, p. 5, no. 20) and a print by Vincenzo Mazzi (Stage Set from the
Caprici Teatrali, Bologna, 1776) in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York,
66.500.27. It also appears on the reverse of the drawing by Hubert Clerget, La
Maison de Boucher, rue Carnot à la Ferte-Bernard, with C. J. Goodfriend, New
York, in 2014. Fiorentini 1999, pp. 150–53, no. 33; Fiorentini and Rosenberg
2002, p. 36, fig. 19; Hegener 2008, pp. 380–91, version I, fig. 221, p. 617,
no. 15. J. Clifton in Houston and Ithaca 2005–06, pp. 32–34, no. 1; Hegener
2008, p. 391; Mozzati in Florence 2014, pp. 526–27, no. 76. Erna Fiorentini
previously attributed it to Casa with a query (1999, p. 153). Hegener 2008 p.
618, no. 17, fig. 226; Heinecken (1778–90, vol. 2, p. 90). For his portraiture
and use of it for self-promotion, see Weil-Garris 1981, pp. 237–38; Weil-Garris
Brandt 1989; Mozzati 2014, pp. 452–63. Florence 2014, p. 568, no. III; p. 573,
no. VII; pp. 576–81, nos IX.-X. (R. Schallert). The Orpheus and his copy of the
Laocoön (ibid., p. 571, no. V) earned his reputation as ‘a great young talent
who can export the Belvedere’. (Barkan, 1999, p. 279). His personality is
revealed in his letters and the lengthy account in Vasari’s Lives (Bettarini
and Barocchi 1966–87, vol. 5, pp. 238–76). See also Weil-Garris 1981, pp.
223–24; Weil-Garris Brandt 1989, p. 497. Along with the date, 1548, the
engraving bears the initials and inscription, ‘A.S.Excudebat.’, presumably
Antonio Salamanca, the leading publisher of prints in Rome in the mid-16th
century (Fiorentini and Rosenberg 2002, p. 38). Many of the prints he published
were of Roman antiquities. See London 2001–02, p. 233; Pagani 2000; Witcombe
2008, pp. 67–105. Weil-Garris 1981, p. 231; Weil-Garris Brandt 1989, p. 497.
For a fundamental discussion of Bandinelli and the Antique, see Barkan 1999,
pp. 271–408. Weil-Garris Brandt 1989, pp. 497, 499–500. Weil-Garris 1981, p.
237. See V. Krahn, in Florence 2014, pp. 372–75, cat no. 32 who further notes
the similarity between the Hercules appearing in outline leaning on his club at
right in the unfinished print by Niccolò della Casa (Fiorentini and Rosenberg
2002, p. 36, fig. 19), and Bandinelli’s Hercules with the Apple of the
Hesperides, c. 1545, in the Bargello in Florence (ibid., pp. 372–75, cat. no.
32, repr.). There are many other engraved representations of Hercules subjects
by or based on Bandinelli, who evidently planned a series, as noted by Roger
Ward (in Cambridge 1988, p. 74, under cat. no. 42). See also M. Zurla, in
Florence 2014, pp. 388–93, cat. nos 37–39. Weil-Garris 1981, p. 237; Houston
and Ithaca 2005–06, p. 34. Campidoglio – freely interpreted by artists like
Amico 92 93 Fig. 5. Giovanni Antonio da Brescia (fl. 1490–1519),
The Belvedere Torso with Legs and Feet, as Hercules, c. 1500–20, engraving, 166
× 103 mm, The British Museum, Department of Prints and Drawings, London,
1845,0825.258 Fig. 6. Baccio Bandinelli, Laocoön, pen and brown ink, 1520s, 417
× 265 mm, Uizi, Florence, inv. 14785 F (recto) 4a. Jan van der Straet,
called Johannes Stradanus (Bruges 1523–1605 Florence) The Practice of the
Visual Arts 1573 Pen and brown ink with brown wash and white heightening with
touches of grey, incised for transfer 436 × 293 mm Inscribed recto, l.c., in
pen and brown ink, in reverse sense: ‘io stradensis flandrvs in 1573 cornelie
cort excv’ provenance: Sir H. Sloane bequest, 1753. literature: Hind and Popham
1915–32, vol. 5, p. 182, no. 1; Ameisenowa 1963, p. 58; Wolf-Heiddeger and
Cetto 1967, p. 171, no. 73, repr. on p. 431; Heikamp 1972, p. 300 and fig. 1 on
p. 302; Heidelberg 1982, p. 29, no. 52, pl. 1 on p. 17; Sellink 1992, p. 46;
Rotterdam 1994, pp. 195–99 (in Dutch), pp. 200–05 (in English), fig. a on p.
204; Baroni Vannucci 1997, pp. 63–64, 247, no. 313, repr. on p. 246.
exhibitions: Florence 1980, p. 213, no. 523, not repr. (G. G. Bertelà); London
1986, no. 144, repr. on p. 193 (N. Turner); Ottawa, Vancouver and elsewhere
1996–97, pp. 148–49, no. 39 (M. Kornell); London, Warwick, and elsewhere
1997–98, pp. 19, 25, 119, no. 142 (D. Petherbridge and L. Jordanova); London
2001–02, p. 21, no. 4 (M. Bury); Bruges 2008–09, pp. 227–28, no. 20 (A.
Baroni). The British Museum, Department of Prints and Drawings, London,
SL,5214.2 exhibited in london only 4b. Cornelis Cort (Hoorn 1533–before 1578
Rome) After Jan van der Straet, called Johannes Stradanus (Bruges 1523–1605
Florence) The Practice of the Visual Arts 1578 Engraving State I of II1 432 ×
295 mm Inscribed recto, l.c., on wooden box: ‘Cornelius Cort fecit. / 1578’;
along bottom: ‘Illmo et Exmo Dn ́o Iacobo Boncompagno Arcis Praefecto,
ingenior, ac industriae fautori, Artiú nobiliú praxim, á Io, Stradési Belga
artifiosè expressá, Laureti’ Vaccarius D.D. Romae Anno 1578.’; u.r.: ‘PICTVRA’;
c.l. on table in background: ‘FVSORIA’; u.c. below statue: ‘STATV ARIA’; l.l.
on table: ‘ANATOMIA’; below statue of horse: ‘SCVLPTVRA’; c.r. on book on
table: ‘ARCHITECTVRA’; r. on paper on table: ‘Typorum eneorum / INCISORIA’;
l.c. on stool: ‘Tyrones pi / cture’. provenance: possibly entered Rijksmuseum
collection late 19th century (L.2228)2 literature: Hind and Popham 1915–32,
vol. 5, p. 182; Bierens de Haan 1948, p. 199, no. 218, fig. 53; Hollstein
1949–2001, vol. 5, p. 58, no. 218, repr.; Ameisenowa 1963, p. 58;
Wolf-Heiddeger and Cetto 1967, pp. 171–72, no. 74, repr. on p. 431; Heikamp
1972, p. 300, fig. 2 on p. 302; Strauss 1977, vol. 1, pp. 278–79, repr.;
Florence 1980, p. 213; Parker 1983, pp. 76–77, repr. (as state II); Roman 1984,
pp. 88–91, fig. 69; Strauss and Shimura 1986, p. 249, 218.199; Liedtke 1989, p.
190, no. 53, repr. on p. 191; Sellink 1992, p. 46, fig. 18 on p. 47; Rotterdam
1994, pp. 195–99 (in Dutch), pp. 200–205 (in English), no. 69; Ottawa,
Vancouver and elsewhere 1996–97, pp. 148–51, no. 40; Baroni Vannucci 1997, pp.
63–64, 436, no. 772; Sellink and Leeflang 2000, part 3, pp. 118–19, no. 210; London
2001–02, pp. 18–21, no. 3; Munich and Cologne 2002, pp. 321–22, no. 112; Wiebel
and Wiedau 2002, p. 154, repr. on p. 155; Perry Chapman 2005, p. 116, fig. 4.7
on p. 117. exhibitions: Vienna 1987, p. 320, no. VII.25 (M. Boeckl); Amsterdam
2007, no. 5 (C. Smid and A. White); Bruges 2008–09, no. 21 (A. Baroni); Compton
Verney and Norwich 2009–10, pp. 18–19, no. 16. their careers in Italy. Jan van
der Straet was born in Bruges in 1523, but we know very little of his life
before he arrived in Italy around 1545.4 He settled in Florence but worked in
both Rome and Naples, and became a close collaborator of Giorgio Vasari
(1511–74), assisting him in the decoration of the Palazzo Vecchio and at Poggio
a Caiano. Like Vasari, Van der Straet was immensely versatile, working on
paintings and portraits, making cartoons for tapestries and creating hundreds
of designs for prints. He died in Florence in 1605, and is better known to
posterity by the Italianised version of his name, Johannes Stradanus. He
nevertheless maintained his Flemish identity by signing his works with
variations of ‘FLANDRUS’, as seen in the exhibited drawing; however, it is
difficult to decipher, because Stradanus wrote the inscrip- tion in reverse.
This is clear evidence that the drawing was intended as a design for a print.
All the figures use their left hands, which is further proof, as are the clear
indentation lines made to transfer the design to the plate. Stradanus’
inscription is dated 1573, and includes the name of the Dutch- man Cornelis Cort,
who would engrave the drawing five years later, in 1578.5 Cort is first
documented working in the printing house of Hieronymous Cock (c. 1510–70) in
Antwerp, around 1553, before he travelled to Italy in 1565.6 At first he worked
in Venice, where he formed a famous partnership with Titian (c. 1488–1576), but
he later moved to central Italy. Cort probably met Stradanus in 1569 in
Florence, where the Medicis had requested his presence to engrave their family
tree.7 In the engraving, Cort moved his own name to the block at the centre
foreground, where he also inscribed the date 1578. Stradanus’ inscription was
replaced by one from the publisher, Lorenzo Vaccari (active 1575–87),
dedicating the work to Giacomo Boncampagni, Prefect of the Castel Sant’Angelo
and son of the newly appointed Pope Gregory XIII (r. 1572–85).8 Cort made
several further changes to Stradanus’ design, the most obvious of which are the
inscriptions added to clarify the various activities being conducted around the
room. Thus we can identify the three arts of disegno taking place in one
institution, with painting (‘PICTVRA’) on the wall, sculpture (‘STATVARIA’ and
‘SCVLPTVRA’) on the plinths in the centre, and architecture (‘ARCHITECTVRA’),
which is given short shrift, repre- sented only by the man seated at the table
before the Venus, holding a pair of dividers. The architect is in fact
overshad- owed by the unusual addition beside him of a seated engraver, whose
burin rests on the corner of the table next to the more prominent inscription
‘Typorum eneorum INCISORIA’. Michael Bury thought this focus on engraving was
added at Cort’s urging,9 but Stradanus, as the inventor of more than 560
designs for prints, may himself have decided to place unprecedented emphasis on
the graphic arts.10 Of the three genres of painting – landscape, portraiture
and history paint- ing – the latter was considered the most admirable, and so
it is appropriate that the painting on the wall depicts an ancient battle
scene. Sculpture is depicted hierarchically, with prom- inence given to the
grand marble sculptures atop the plinth, distinguished from the lesser arts of
wax modelling and bronze casting, embodied by the rearing horse below. While
the older bearded masters are at work within their individual disciplines, their
true purpose is to guide the next generation of artists – the young,
clean-shaven students scattered around the room. The foreground is therefore
occupied with training exercises, as the pupils learn to draw after the Antique
and the human body before attempting the loftier projects of sculpture and
painting, exemplified in the upper back registers of the scene. The role of the
Antique is actually more prominent in the print than in the drawing, as the
statuette of Venus – which, like the statuettes in Bandinelli’s academies (cats
1 and 2), is probably all’antica rather than an antique original – meets the
gaze of a young pupil, whose quill is poised to draw her. This same youth in
Stradanus’ design has already filled his sheet with repeated sketches of eyes.
This reflects a different practice, referred to as the ‘alphabet of drawing’,
in which students were encouraged to start with the smallest part of the human
body, usually the eyes, gradually building up a repertoire of the individual
parts before assembling them into more complex configurations. In the same way,
a writer must first learn the alphabet and how to form indi- vidual letters
into words before being able to construct sentences. Benvenuto Cellini
(1500–71) described this as a common practice: ‘The teachers would put a human
eye in front of those poor and most tender youths as their first step in
imitating and portraying; this is what happened to me in my childhood, and
probably happened to others as well’ . 1 1 His statement is corroborated not
only by Stradanus’ drawing, but by a similar youth in Pierfrancesco Alberti’s
(1584–1638) etching of a studio (cat. 2, fig. 1) and by a sheet of eyes from
Odoardo Fialetti’s (1573–1638) drawing-book (p. 34, fig. 37). Stradanus
repeated the youth and his drawing of eyes in another design for a print, which
appeared in a series called Nova Reperta, published by Philips Galle (1537–
1612) in the 1590s (fig. 1). This ‘A B C ’ technique of drawing, as well as the
important role of the Antique, were codified in Federico Zuccaro’s (c.
1540–1609) first statutes for the Accademia di San Luca, ‘re-founded’ in Rome
in 1593.12 The idea of progressing from simple elements to a complex whole
originated with Leon Battista Alberti (1404–72), and he recommended a similar
method for the study of human anatomy, starting with the bones before adding
muscles and Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, RP-P-BI-6381 exhibited in haarlem only This
crowded, idealised vision of a workshop for training artists is the natural
successor to the earlier academies depicted by Baccio Bandinelli (cats 1 and
2). The Antique still plays a prominent role, seen in the large marble statues
in the centre depicting Rome personified next to the river god Tiber, both
based on the well-known sculptures in the Capitoline,3 and by the statuette of
a Venus Pudica type with her back to us standing on the table in the
foreground. Equal importance, however, is accorded to the study of anatomy, 94
and the young pupils in the foreground focus their attention on the skeleton
and cadaver suspended from ropes and pulleys. This reflects the later
16th-century emphasis on the study of anatomy as an integral part of the
artist’s education , a tendency that was already evident in the skeletons
added to Bandinelli’s second academy print (cat. 2), and which is fully
realised in this scene. The drawing and print catalogued here were produced in
close collaboration by two Northern artists who both made 95 96
97 finally flesh.13 The students in Stradanus’ drawing are dili- gently
following these instructions by examining the bones of a skeleton, while a
bespectacled tutor flays the arm of a corpse to grant them a view of the
musculature. Regardless of which object they are studying, all the pupils are
engaged in drawing, considered to be the essential element in their education.
Stradanus’ design is therefore an allegory of the ideal academy, in which all
of the arts are improbably combined under one roof to offer the most
well-rounded and comprehensive instruction to the next generation of artists.
Detlef Heikamp, however, believed it to represent a specific academy, the
Accademia di San Luca in Rome, and to be the pendant to another drawing by
Stradanus, now in Heidelberg, depicting the Accademia del Disegno in Florence
(fig. 2).14 Most other scholars disagree, however, as the Accademia di San Luca
was not officially founded until 1593, exactly 20 years after the drawing was
made.15 The drawing also predates a Breve issued by Pope Gregory XIII in 1577,
urging the foundation of such an academy.16 Heikamp was correct, however, in
pointing out the Roman symbolism of this drawing, evident in the grand statue
of Rome personified, based iconographically on Minerva, flanked by the river
god Tiber and the she-wolf suckling Romulus and Remus. The Heidelberg drawing,
by contrast, is decidedly Florentine, showing Brunelleschi’s dome, the river
god of the Arno and the Florentine lion, the Marzocco. However, the two
drawings are very different Fig. 2. Johannes Stradanus, Allegory of the
Florentine Academy of Art, c. 1569–70, pen and brown ink, brown wash and white
heightening, 465 × 363 mm, Kurpfälzisches Museum der Stadt Heidelberg, Inv. Nr.
Z 5425 in size,17 and the consensus of opinion is that they are not a pair,
representing separate allegorical, idealised Roman and Florentine teaching
traditions.18 Stradanus himself was a founding member of the Accademia del
Disegno, which opened in 1563 in Florence. The study of anatomy was a central
precept of the Acca- demia, and, while acting as a consul in the winter of
1563, Stradanus was responsible for organising a dissection for the students.19
His experience guiding and shaping young Florentine artists must have informed
his designs. Perhaps Stradanus was compelled to portray such an academy in
which the three arts of disegno are exalted and glorified in order to allay
growing concerns about the status of art and artists.20 Alessandra Baroni made
the radical proposal that Cort was the driving force behind the project, and
that it was conceived around 1569 when he and Stradanus were both working in
Florence.21 The Medicis commissioned Cort to engrave their family tree, and
while he was in Florence he created a series of prints with Florentine and
Medici themes, including engravings of tombs in the Medici Chapel. Cort may
have undertaken these projects on his own initiative, and the Heidelberg
drawing would have made a fitting addition to the series. An engraving of it,
however, was never executed, perhaps because a receptive audience could not be
found, but in Rome four years later, Cort may have found a more conducive
atmosphere and convinced Stradanus to resume the endeavour. Whatever the
motiva- tion, the design proved very popular, as evidenced by the existence of
two early copies of the engraving, the first of 22 which was published in
Venice around 1580. Clearly, Italian audiences were fascinated by the subject
of art and the requisite training necessary for its creation, in which the
Antique played a pivotal role. The second state was printed 200 years later,
when the plate came into the possession of Carlo Losi, who changed the date on
it to 1773 (Bruges 2008–09, p. 229). I am grateful to Erik Hinterding, Curator
of Prints at the Rijksmuseum, for his correspondence regarding this provenance.
Bober and Rubinstein 2010, pp. 89–90, no. 42 and pp. 113–14, no. 66. Janssens
2012, pp. 9–10. Karel van Mander’s biography of Van der Straet is very brief
(Van Mander 1994–99, vol. 1, pp. 326–29). A better source is Borghini 1584, pp.
579–89. There is an excellent chronology of his life, including lists of the
related archival documents, in Baroni Vannucci 1997, pp. 446–51. The
inscription ‘CORNELIS CORT EXCV’ suggests that Cort had intended to publish the
print himself. He may have struggled to do so, explaining the five-year gap
between the date of the drawing and the pub- lication of the print, and it was
published by another man, Lorenzo Vaccari (Bruges 2008–09, pp. 228–29). It may
even have been published post- humously, as Cort died in 1578 (Sellink and
Leeflang 2000, part 3, p. 119). For Cort’s biography, see Thieme-Becker
1907–50, vol. 12, pp. 475–77. Cock was also the first publisher with whom
Stradanus worked, in 1567, and they had a long partnership (Baroni 2012, p.
91). Bruges 2008–09, p. 228. Boncompagni was appointed to this post in 1572,
and in April 1573 was promoted to Governor General of the Church. It is strange
that the inscrip- tion added to the print in 1578 refers to Boncompagni by the
lesser title of Prefect, which Michael Bury took as proof that the print was
more likely to have been executed in 1573, the same year as the drawing. He
thought it possible that the ‘3’ had simply been changed to an ‘8’ in the date
1578 on the stool; however there are no extant 1573 versions of the print
(London 2001–02, pp. 18, 21). London 2001–02, p. 18. Leesberg 2012a, p. 161.
Amornpichetkul 1984, p. 117 and Cellini 1731, p. 141. Cellini went on to say he
considered this a ‘poor method’ but he agreed on the means of building up the
bones of a skeleton in order to draw a successful nude. See also Aymonino’s
essay in this catalogue, pp. 33–34. Appendix, no. 7. Alberti 1972, p. 75 (book
2, chap. 36) and p. 97 (book 3, chap. 55). Heikamp 1972, p. 300. It is true
that for decades the idea for such an institution had been simmer- ing,
especially at the behest of Federico Zuccaro, a founding member of the
Accademia del Disegno in Florence. He was unhappy with its tenets and sought
reforms, eventually simply founding the Accademia di San Luca instead (Pevsner
1940, pp. 59–60). Heikamp’s theory has been rejected in London 2001–02, p. 21
and Bruges 2008–09, p. 226. The Pope decried the level of decadence in
contemporary art and blamed it on defective training of young artists, arguing
that if they had been properly instructed in both art and religion, they would
not sink to such lows (Pevsner 1940, p. 57). The Heidelberg drawing is much
larger and measures 465 × 363 mm. The figures in the Heidelberg drawing also
all use their left hands, so it must have been intended for a print; however,
no such print has come to light (London 2001–02, p. 21). Ottawa, Vancouver and
elsewhere 1996–97, p. 148. Rotterdam 1994, p. 200. Bruges 2008–09, pp. 226–27.
Bruges 2008–09, p. 229. For a list of the copies, see Sellink and Leeflang
2000, part 3, p. 119. For the practice of copying after Stradanus’ prints, see
Leesberg 2012a. 98 99 Fig. 1. Published by Philips Galle after a
design by Johannes Stradanus, Color Olivi, plate 14 in Nova Reperta series, c.
1580–1600, engraving, 201 × 271 mm, private collection 5. Federico
Zuccaro (Urbino c. 1541–1609 Rome) Taddeo in the Belvedere Court in the Vatican
Drawing the Laocoön c. 1595 Pen and brown ink, brush with brown wash, over
black chalk and touches of red chalk, 175 × 425 mm Inscribed recto in brown pen
and ink by the artist on the building in the background: ‘le camore di
Rafaello’; on the figure’s tunic in capital lettering, ‘THADDEO ZUCCHARO’;
numbered u.r. in brown ink: ‘17’. provenance: Gilbert Paignon Dijonval
(1708–92); Charles-Gilbert, Vicomte Morel de Vindé (1759–1842), see L. 2520;
Samuel Woodburn (1786–1853), 1816; Thomas Dimsdale (1758–1823), see L. 2426;
Samuel Woodburn, 1823; Sir Thomas Lawrence (1769–1830), L. 2445; Samuel
Woodburn, 1830; Sold Christie’s, London, 4 June 1860, part of lot 1074; bought
by Sir Thomas Phillipps (1792–1872); Thomas Fitzroy Fenwick (1856–1938); Dr A.
S. W. Rosenbach (1876–1952), 1930; Philip H. and A. S. W. Rosenbach Foundation
until 1978; The British Rail Pension Fund, 1978; Their sale, Sotheby’s, New
York, 11 January 1990, lot 17; Finacor, Paris; Their sale, Christie’s, London,
28 January 1999, part of lot 35 (no. 17), from whom acquired. selected
literature:1 Rossi 1997, p. 64; Acidini Luchinat 1998, vol. 1, pp. 14, 16, 22,
fig. 20; vol. 2, p. 225; Paul 2000, pp. 5–6, fig. 1; Paris 2000–01, pp. 379–80,
under no. 185 (C. Scailliérez); Silver 2007–08, p. 86; Lukehart 2007–08, p.
105; Cavazzini 2008, p. 50, fig. 26; Tronzo 2009, pp. 49, fig. 6, 52–54;
Deswarte-Rosa 2011, pp. 27–28, 31, fig. 4; Pierguidi 2011, pp. 29–30, fig. 3;
Luchterhandt 2013–14, pp. 38–39, fig. 11. exhibitions: London 1836, p. 11, no.
17, not repr.; Los Angeles 1999 (no catalogue); Rome 2006–07, pp. 159–60, no.
51 (M. Serlupi Crescenzi); Los Angeles 2007–08, pp. 24, 33–34, no. 17 (see
also, pp. 7, 40, 70, 86, 127). Fig. 1. Apollo Belvedere, Roman copy of the
Hadrianic period (117–138 ad) from a Greek original of the 4th century bc,
marble, 224 cm (h), Vatican Museums, Rome inv. 1015 Fig. 2. Laocoön, possibly a
Roman copy of the 1st century ad after a Greek original of the 2nd century bc,
marble, 242 cm (h), Vatican Museums, Rome, inv. 1064 The J. Paul
Getty Museum, Los Angeles, 99.GA.6.17 exhibited in london only Look here, O
Judgment, how he observes the antique and Polidoro’s style as well as Raphael’s
work he studies. (Ecco qui, o Giuditio, osservando Va de l’antico, e Polidoro
il fare E l’opre insiem di Rafael studiando)2 The series of twenty drawings by
Federico Zuccaro of his older brother, Taddeo (1529–66), is a unique treasure
of Renaissance drawing.3 With cinematic realism and narrative flair, the
drawings tell the story of Taddeo’s travails and even- tual success as a young
artist in Rome in the 1540s. It begins with his heart-rending departure at
fourteen from the family home in S. Angelo in Vado, a provincial town in the
Marches, and his arrival in the Eternal City. There Taddeo sets about following
the prescribed course of study typical for any aspir- ing painter of the
period. First, he apprentices with a local painter, performing menial tasks –
preparing pigments and household chores – and finding time to draw, mostly only
at night. After being mistreated by the painter’s wife, he escapes to discover
Rome for himself. He assiduously copies statues and reliefs from classical
antiquity and the work of contem- porary masters including the frescoes in the
Logge and the Stanze of the Vatican by Raphael, the Last Judgment by
Michelangelo and façade paintings by Polidoro da Caravaggio. After much focused
and disciplined study, he triumphs victoriously with his first major success:
the painted façade of Palazzo Mattei (1548). And this is where the story ends
(Taddeo would die prematurely of illness at the age of thirty-seven). In this
drawing, number seventeen, we enter the story in medias res. Here Taddeo,
affectionately identified by name on his tunic, is at Vatican Belvedere Statue
Court studying the most iconic antique sculptures of the day: the Apollo
Belvedere on the left (fig. 1; see also pp. 25–26), the Nile and Tiber in the
centre and the object of his attention, possibly the most famous work in the
collection, the Laocoön on the right (fig. 2; see also pp. 25–26).4 With his
back turned, we peer voyeuristi- cally over his shoulder as he draws intently.
He has settled in for a day of intense study; his meagre sustenance, a small
loaf of bread and flask of wine on the ground next to him, has remained
untouched. The notion of the artist drawing inces- santly with little to eat or
drink anticipates the vivid descrip- tion of the young Gian Lorenzo Bernini
(1598–1680) who as a boy spent dawn to dusk at the statue court making copies.5
Significantly, this is the earliest known image of an artist at work at the
Belvedere, the most important and certainly the most influential collection of
classical antiquities assem- bled in the Renaissance.6 Given its unique
accessibility – unlike the collections housed in private aristocratic palaces –
it provided a sanctuary for the unencumbered study of antique statuary, which
also included recently excavated works. Thus, it served a key role in providing
an artistic instruction not just direct but exhilaratingly au courant. It also
meant that the sculptures displayed there would become famous as their images
were disseminated through prints and drawings. When Taddeo visited the
sculpture court in the 1540s, it had undergone a major renovation.7 In 1485,
under Pope Innocent VIII (r. 1484–92), a private villa was built on the hill
behind the old Vatican place, named the Belvedere (‘fair view’), for its position.
In 1503, Pope Julius II (r. 1503–13) commis- sioned the architect, Donato
Bramante (1444–1514), to incor- porate the house with the Vatican complex
thereby creating an enclosed rectangular garden courtyard, the Cortile del
Belvedere, to display his expanding antiquities collection. Wishing it to be
accessible to the public, the Pope had Bramante construct a spiral staircase
that enabled visitors to arrive at the courtyard directly, without having to
enter the palace proper.8 The courtyard was an enchanted world filled with
orange trees, fountains, an elegant loggia, and displayed in the centre of the
court, the colossal marble statues of the Nile and Tiber mounted as fountains.9
Statues including the celebrated Apollo Belvedere and the Laocoön were displayed
in especially created niches.10 Maarten van Heemskerck’s drawing in the British
Museum, c. 1532–33 (fig. 3), the earliest known view of the Cortile, gives a
sense of the space and the disposition of the sculpture displayed there.11
Immediately evident is that Federico’s al fresco evocation bears little
resemblance to Heemskerck’s and to other con- temporary descriptions of the
courtyard. The setting is now a sun-drenched rise with a vista, no t an
enclosed garden, and the statues are freed from the confines of their niches.
And yet in other ways Federico has gone to lengths to convince us of the time
period – 1540s – as we will see. In fact, so well-known was this space that
Federico needed only to refer to it in short-hand. The statues depicted would
have been instantly recognisable to any viewer and Taddeo’s location in the
Belvedere understood. Since its discovery in January of 1506 in the ground of a
private vineyard on the Esquiline near the remains of the so-called Baths of
Titus, the Laocoön group, comprising the ill-fated Trojan priest and his two
sons violently struggling to free themselves from two serpents who devour them,
was immediately venerated.12 While still in the ground, the architect and
antiquarian, Giuliano di Sangallo, sent to inspect it by Pope Julius II,
identified it as the famous statue singled out by Pliny the Elder as ‘of all
paintings and sculptures the most worthy of admiration’ (Natural History
36.37–38).13 It was installed in the Belvedere in a chapel-like recess.14 The
sculpture’s fame was instant and far-reaching. Entranced by it, Michelangelo
proclaimed it an inimitable miracle.15 Collectors eagerly sought copies,
commissioning Jacopo Sansovino (1486–1570), Baccio Bandinelli (see cat. 3) and
others to make replicas of various sizes in bronze, marble, wax, terracotta,
even gold.16 For artists, its effect was manifold. It provided an anatomical
model for the male nude that was strong, forceful and capable of dynamic
movement. The range of ages and emotions conveyed and symbolised – fear, agony,
heroism in death – also inspired emulation. Fig. 3. Maarten van Heemskerck
(1498–1574), View of the Belvedere Sculpture Court, c. 1532–36/37, pen and
brown ink, brush with brown wash, 231 × 360 mm, Department of Print and
Drawings, British Museum, London, 1946,0713.639 100 101 102
103 Epitomising human suffering, the statue became a model for portraying
martyrs from Christendom, especially in the Counter-Reformation.17 For
centuries that followed artists would imitate and infuse this muscular body
type and expres- sions in their work (cat. 16). The group’s influence endured
well into the 19th century.18 When the Laocoön was first discovered, his right
arm and that of his youngest son on the left were missing, as were among other
losses the fingers of the eldest son’s right hand. By the 1530s, the missing
appendages were restored including a terracotta arm by the sculptor, Giovanni
Antonio Montorsoli (1507–63).19 Federico’s drawn version is something of an
enigma. In some respects it appears pre-restoration: the fingers of the eldest
son on the right are still missing. But he has included part of the previously
absent right arm of the son on the left but made him hand-less. Laocoön is
shown with his right arm restored but it is out of view so the angle cannot be
determined. In any case, it seems that Federico has attempted to represent the
sculpture as he thought Taddeo and others of his generation might have first
seen it, undoubt- edly to create an air of authenticity. It is possible that he
consulted print sources such as Marco Dente da Ravenna’s ( f l . 1515–27)
Laocoön of c. 1520–23, which makes a compelling comparison.20 The perfect foil
for the Laocoön is the commanding figure of the Apollo Belvedere anchoring the
composition on the left.21 So instantly recognisable was he that Federico
needed only to indicate his lower half. Discovered at S. Lorenzo in Panisperna
in 1489, the statue was acquired by Giuliano della Rovere, Cardinal of S.
Pietro in Vincoli, the future Pope Julius II, who displayed it in the garden of
his palace next to SS. Apostoli.22 After he became Pope, it was brought to the
Vatican in 1508 and installed in a niche in the Belvedere cortile in 1511.
Based on a lost Greek bronze original, it became one of the most famous statues
to survive from antiquity and was copied by innumerable artists (see cats 6,
25, 26).23 If the Laocoön exemplified the powerful male nude body in action,
the Apollo encapsulated the qualities of its counterpart, the perfect male
youth: elegant, graceful, confident and restrained; in repose yet poised for
action. As the god Apollo he was thought to have just discharged his arrow at
the python of Delphi (see cat. 6) or else, to be on the verge of killing the
sons of Niobe with his arrows, as punishment for her boasting.24 Praised by
Vasari for its instructive importance, every aspiring artist visited the Apollo
in the Belvedere.25 The statue retained immense popularity in the centuries
that followed.26 Federico’s abbreviated description of the Belvedere Courtyard
is a clever device as it allows him to combine several episodes of Taddeo’s
self-education in the same 104 drawing and a highly sophisticated continuous
narration.27 All show Taddeo studying the Antique in various forms – free-
standing statues, narrative reliefs and contemporary works in an all’antica
style. So while the most prominent Taddeo is at work copying the Belvedere
statues, a second Taddeo is visible in the distance, perched on a window ledge
copying Raphael’s celebrated Stanze frescoes in the papal apartments in the
Vatican.28 At the far left is Trajan’s Column of 113 ad under which are
figures, including an artist sketching the famous reliefs carved on the column
shaft, presumably Taddeo again. These monuments were very distant from one
other and yet, countering this artificial structure, Federico has striven for
local historical accuracy. For example, he shows the column as it would have
appeared in Taddeo’s day, omitting the bronze statue of St Peter at the top
that was added by Sixtus V in 1588.29 Lightly sketched in the left distance is
the dome of the Pantheon and on the far right, what appears to be the Mausoleum
of Augustus of 28 bc identifiable by the trees on the summit.30 Another drawing
from the series (fig. 4) further demon- strates the importance Federico
attributed to copying after the Antique, one of the pillars of artistic
education.31 It shows Taddeo studying a relief – perhaps the right-hand front
section of a Muse sarcophagus of a type similar to an example now in the
Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna (p. 20, fig. 5).32 Having already sketched the
figures – possibly a Muse holding a mask and Apollo – in black chalk, he is
about to go over the contours with pen and ink. Resting on the relief is the
armless body of a male youth similar in type to the Torso of Apollon
Sauroktonos, the so-called Casa Sassi Torso now in the Museo Archeologico
Nazionale in Naples.33 In the back- ground, in another example of continuous
narration, Taddeo copies façade paintings by Polidoro da Caravaggio, who,
specialising in monochrome frescoes imitating marble or bronze reliefs,
represented another type of contemporary all’antica style, one which would
exert an enormous influence on Taddeo’s own approach to painting.34 It is
significant that Federico executed the Taddeo series in the mid-1590s, around
the time that he established a reformed Accademia di San Luca of which he was
elected president in 1593. Learning to draw by copying the work of others – the
Antique, Michelangelo, Raphael and Polidoro da Caravaggio – was already a key
phenomenon of Renaissance workshop practice. Federico codified this practice
further by making such a disciplined approach to drawing central to the
curricu- lum.35 Successful learning also required virtue and hard work – fatica
– both physical and intellectual, and such quali- ties are extolled in
Federico’s drawings of Taddeo.36 According to the guidelines Federico wrote for
the academy, students were required to ‘go out during the week drawing after
the antique’ (see Appendix, no. 7).37 It is significant that in the final image
of the series (fig. 5), an allegorical personification of Study – represented
by a young man diligently copying an antique male torso with other sculptures –
flanks the left side of the Zuccaro family emblem.38 He is joined by
Intelligence on the right. Along with training, Federico was also concerned
with the welfare of young artists and proposed reforms to the artists’ academy
in Florence, the Accademia del Disegno.39 At his death in 1609, he intended the
family palace, the Palazzo Zuccari (now the Bibliotheca Hertziana, Max Planck
Institute for Art History) to house young, struggling artists in Rome, so that
they would not suffer as Taddeo had.40 Appropriate in subject matter, the
drawings may well have prepared a complex arrangement of paintings for the
walls of the palace’s Sala del Disegno.41 This might account for the present
drawing’s unusual dumbbell format.42 Regardless of its intended purpose, the
Early Life of Taddeo series, a touching tribute to one brother from another,
sends a clear message. Drawing, especially after the Antique in all its various
forms, was the cornerstone of artistic education in 16th-century Italy and was
to become a canonical activity throughout Europe in the centuries that
followed. As one of the first great illustrations of this phenomenon in
practice, the present drawing is an ideal visual representation of this
exhibition’s theme. avl Fig. 4. Federico Zuccaro, Taddeo Drawing after
the Antique; in the Background Copying a Façade by Polidoro, c. 1595, pen and
brown ink, brush with brown wash, over black chalk and touches of red chalk,
423 × 175 mm, The J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles, 99.GA.6.12 Fig. 5.
Federico Zuccaro, Allegories of Study and Intelligence Flanking the Zuccaro
Emblem, c. 1595, pen and brown ink, brush with brown wash, over black chalk and
touches of red chalk, 176 × 425 mm, The J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles,
99.GA.6.20 105 1 Additional bibliography for the drawings in the series
up to 1999 is given in the catalogue of the Christie’s sale, London, 28 January
1999, p. 70, lot 35. 2 This poem written by Federico Zuccaro to accompany this
drawing appears on the back of another sheet in the series (Los Angeles
2007–08, p. 34, no. 18, 40). Translation by J. Brooks (ibid., pp. 33–34). 3 The
Early Life of Taddeo series, acquired by the J. Paul Getty Museum in 1999, was
the subject of an exhibition and in-depth catalogue by J. Brooks (Los Angeles
2007–08). 4 For the Tiber and the Nile see Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 272–73,
no. 65 and pp. 310–11, no. 79; Klementa 1993, pp. 9–51, nos A1–A39, pls 1–18;
pp. 52–71, nos B1–B15, pls 19–23. 5 See Appendix, no. 9. 6 For essential
reading on the Cortile and its history, see Ackerman 1954; Brummer 1970; Coffin
1979, pp. 69–87; Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 7–11; Nesselrath 1994, pp. 52–55;
Nesselrath 1998a, pp. 1–16. 7 See Coffin 1979, pp. 69–87; Haskell and Penny
1981, p. 7. 8 Coffin 1979, p. 82. 9 For the two Rivers, see above, note 4. 10
For statues in their niches, see Haskell and Penny 1981, p. 11, fig. 4, and
Bober and Rubinstein 2010, fig. 122c. 11 First published as Heemskerck in
Winner and Nesselrath 1987, p. 867; see also M. Serlupi Crescenzi, in Rome
2006–07, pp. 148–49, no. 37. For a sense of the atmosphere, see the painting by
Hendrik III van Cleve (1524–89), 1550, in the Musées Royaux des Beaux-Arts de
Belgique, Brussels (M. Serlupi Crescenzi, in Rome 2006–07, pp. 146–47, no. 34),
see Aymonino’s essay in this catalogue, p. 26, fig. 21. 12 For the group, see
Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 243–47, no. 52; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, pp.
164–68, no. 122, Pasquier 2000–01b and the exhibition catalogue devoted to it,
Rome 2006–07. 13 Haskell and Penny 1981, p. 243; M. Buranelli, in Rome 2006–07,
pp. 127–28, no. 13. 14 Coffin 1979, p. 82; Haskell and Penny 1981, p. 243. 15
Bober and Rubinstein 2010, p. 165, see also Aymonino’s essay in this catalogue,
p. 28. 16 Haskell and Penny 1981, p. 244 and Settis 1998, pp. 129–60. 17
Ettlinger 1961, pp. 121–26; Brummer 1970, pp. 117–18; Bober and Rubinstein
2010, p. 166. 18 For the statue’s critical reception, see Bieber 1967;
Brilliant 2000; Décultot 2003 and Rome 2006–07. 19 Haskell and Penny 1981, pp.
246–47; Nesselrath 1998b, pp. 165–74; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, p. 165.
Montorsoli’s additions were removed in 1540 when Primaticcio made a mould of
the group unrestored to prepare a cast in bronze for Francis I (Rome 2006-07,
pp. 150–51, no. 40). The additions were then put back. 20 Oberhuber 1978, p.
50, no. 353 (268); T. Schtrauch, in Rome 2006–07, pp. 152–53, no. 42. 21 For
their juxtaposition, see Tronzo 2009, pp. 49–55. 22 According to a document
published by Fusco and Corti 2006 (Appendix I, 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33
34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 p. 309, doc. 112; see also pp. 52–56). For the
statue, see Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 148–51, no. 8; Bober and Rubinstein
2010, pp. 76–77, no. 28. In 1532–33 Montorsoli replaced the existing right arm
and restored the hands (Bober and Rubinstein 2010, p. 77). Federico presents it
in its restored state with bow. Haskell and Penny 1981, p. 150. Bober and
Rubinstein 2010, p. 76; Vasari’s preface to Part III of the Lives, 1568 ed.
(Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87, vol. 4, p. 7). See Roettgen 1998, pp. 253–74.
He employs the same device in other drawings in the series (Los Angeles
2007–08, p. 7). Federico indicates the location on the drawing itself with the
inscription, le camore di Rafaello (the rooms of Raphael). Another drawing in
the series shows him copying the frescoes in the loggia of the Villa Farnesina,
see Los Angeles 2007–08, pp. 20, 32, no. 13. For the column, its reliefs and
history, see Bober and Rubinstein 2010, pp. 208–10, no. 159. Francesco Soderini
purchased the Mausoleum in 1546 in order to transform the tomb into a garden
museum with antique statuary. See Riccomini 1995, especially p. 267, fig. 91
(Etienne Du Pérac’s engraving, 1575) and p. 271, fig. 95 (Alò Giovannoli’s
engaving, 1619) and Riccomini 1996. Los Angeles 2007–08, pp. 19, 31–32, no. 12.
For essential reading on Taddeo, Federico and the antique and the absorption of
it in their work, see Silver 2007–08, pp. 86–91. Wegner 1966, pp. 88–89, no.
228, plates 11–12. Los Angeles 2007–08, p. 31. In Taddeo’s time the torso
(CensusID 159347 and Ruesch 1911, p. 158, no. 491) was in the courtyard of the
Sassi family palace displayed in a niche as seen in Heemskerck’s famous view
reproduced in etching (Paris 2000–01, pp. 360–62, no. 169, entry by C.
Scailliérez). For Polidoro and the Zuccari, see Los Angeles 2007–08, pp. 71–77.
Armenini had already advised artists to copy Polidoro’s frescoes (1587, p. 58,
book 1, chap. 7). Alberti 1604, p. 7. See also Armenini, 1587, pp. 52–59 (book
1, chap. 7). See also Aymonino’s essay in this catalogue, pp. 32–33 Rossi 1997,
pp. 66–68. Alberti 1604, p. 8 (‘e chi andarà frà la settimana dissegnando
all’antico’), cited and translated in Silver 2007-08, p. 86). Los Angeles
2007–08, pp. 27, 35, no. 20. Ibid., p. 2. Ibid. For previous arguments on the
topic and a fascinating hypothetical recon- struction of the Sala del Disegno,
see Strunck 2007–08, pp. 113–25. The shape is adapted slightly in a version of
the present drawing in the Uffizi, Florence, of similar dimensions (Paris
2000–01, pp. 379–80, no. 185 (entry by C. Scailliérez), believed by Gere to be
autograph (1990, under no. 17) but by Brooks as unlikely to be and the present
author agrees. See Los Angeles 2007– 08, p. 45, note 48, where two other copies
are also noted: Biblioteca Nacional, Madrid 7656 and the other sold Phillips,
London, 9 July 2001, lot 148. 6. Hendrick Goltzius (Bracht-am-Niederrhein
1558–1617 Haarlem) a. The Apollo Belvedere 1591 Black and white chalk on blue
paper indented for transfer; 388 × 244 mm provenance: Queen Christina of Sweden
(1626–89)1; Cardinal Decio Azzolini (1623–89); Marchese Pompeo Azzolini
(1654–1706); Don Livio Odescalchi (1658–1713); purchased from the Odescalchi
family by the Teylers Foundation, 1790. selected literature: Reznicek 1961,
vol. 1, p. 326, no. 208, vol. 2, fig. 170; Van Regteren Altena 1964, fig. 19,
pp. 101–02, no. 32; Miedema 1969, pp. 76–77; Brummer 1970, pp. 70–71, repr.;
Stolzenburg 2000, pp. 426–27, repr., p. 439, no. 173; Brandt 2001, p. 148;
Hamburg 2002, p. 114, repr. under no. 33; Amsterdam, New York and elsewhere 2003–04,
p. 269, repr.; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, p. 77, under no. 28; Leesberg 2012b,
vol. 2, p. 370 under no. 380; Göttingen 2013–14, pp. 22–23, fig. 6; Nichols
2013a, pp. 56, 84, fig. 54; Veldman 2013–14, p. 105. exhibitions: Münster 1976,
p. 138, no. 111, p. 140, repr. Teylers Museum, Haarlem, inv. no. K III 23
exhibited in haarlem only b. Apollo Belvedere 1592 Engraving, 412 × 300 mm
State II of II Inscribed on the base of the statue: ‘HG sculp. APOLLO PYTHIUS
Cum privil. Sa. Cæ. M.’. With the address of the printer at right ‘Herman
Adolfz excud. Haerlemens.’. Inscribed with two lines in the lower margin, at
centre: ‘Statua antiqua Romae in palatio Pontificis belle vider / opus
posthumum HGoltzij iam primum divulgat. Ano. M.D.C.X.VII.’.2 Two Latin distichs
by Theodorus Schrevelius in margin l.l. and l.r.: ‘Vix natus armis Delius
Vulcaniis / Donatus infans, sacra Parnassi iuga’ / ‘Petii. draconem matris
hostem spiculis / Pythona fixi: nomen inde Pythii. Schrevel’.3 Numbered in l.l.
corner: ‘3’. Published by Herman Adolfsz. (fl. 1607) in 1617 provenance: P.
& D. Colnaghi Co., London, from whom acquired in 1854. literature: Bartsch
1854–76, vol. 3, p. 45, no. 145; Hirschmann 1921, pp. 60–61, no. 147; Hollstein
1949–2001, vol. 8, p. 33, no. 147.II, repr.; Strauss 1977, vol. 2, pp. 566–67,
no. 314, repr.; Leesberg 2012b, vol. 2, p. 370, no. 380, pp. 373–74, repr.
exhibitions: Not previously exhibited. The British Museum, Department of Prints
and Drawings, London, 1854,0513.106 106 107 It was undoubtedly at the urging of
Karel van Mander (1548– 1606), his friend and fellow Haarlem artist, that
Hendrick Goltzius left for Rome in 1590 in order to study the remnants of
classical antiquity and the works of modern Italian masters.4 He was already
thirty-two years old. Northern artists usually went south when they were much
younger, sometimes even half that age. The tradition of artists travel- ling
from Northern Europe to Italy, eager to learn, had begun almost a century
earlier with Jan Gossaert, called Mabuse (c. 1472–1532). Other well-known Dutch
artists who had derived inspiration from antique remains in Rome and who had
produced drawings after them, were Jan van Scorel (1495–1562) and above all,
Maarten van Heemskerck (1498– 1574), also a native of Haarlem.5 Like these
artists Goltzius travelled to Rome as a mature draughtsman, eager to deepen his
knowledge and see with his own eyes the works of art of which he had heard so
much. It was probably family obligations and his flourishing print workshop
that had delayed his Italian trip for so long. Finally in 1590–91, hoping for
relief from the consumptive state of his health, Goltzius made the long
anticipated journey.6 We know from Van Mander that on arriving in Rome,
Goltzius concentrated almost exclusively on drawing the most important
classical sculptures carefully and industri- ously.7 Goltzius was now a
celebrity, for his prints had spread his fame throughout Europe, but he
travelled largely incognito. In Rome, for example, he donned rustic garb in
order to blend in with pupils and amateurs drawing from the Antique. According
to Van Mander, they looked at him pityingly until they saw what he was capable
of, whereupon they started asking him for advice.8 Although this story may be a
topos – art-loving Italy values a gifted outsider – it is not hard to imagine
such an encounter when one considers Goltzius’ Roman drawings.9 Forty-three of
Goltzius’ drawings after thirty different classical statues survive, plus one
after Michelangelo’s Moses; all are preserved in the Teylers Museum in
Haarlem.10 In the short time at Goltzius’ disposal – he was only in Rome for
seven months – he managed to copy all the most impor- tant sculptures, in both
public and semi-public locations 108 109 such as churches
and papal palaces, and in some private collections.11 He must have prepared
thoroughly for his drawing expedition and have studied travel books and prints
before his departure. Certainly at his disposal would have been Maarten van
Heemskerck’s Roman sketchbook, now in the Berlin Kupferstichkabinett, but then
owned by his fellow Haarlem artist, Cornelis Cornelisz. van Haarlem (1562–1638)
(see p. 35, figs 39–43 and cat. no. 8).12 Strikingly Goltzius’ selection more
or less corresponded with the antique statues described in travel literature.13
Evidently, a canon of the most outstanding classical statues in Rome had
already been established and disseminated to the North and although this canon
would later be expanded, most of the statues drawn by Goltzius in 1591
continued to remain popular models for artists in subsequent centuries (see
cat. nos 14–16, 21, 25–27 and 31). Goltzius did not make his drawings merely as
an exercise. The artist and printshop owner was well aware of the importance of
those statues for their reproductive potential. He must have envisaged a series
of engravings from the very outset and that is why he went to such lengths to
select the most celebrated and, by then, canonical sculptures. The series he
had in mind would have rivalled existing print series of antique sculptures in
Rome, such as Antoine Lafréry’s Speculum Romanae Magnificentiae, published
between 1545 and 1577 (fig. 1), or Giovanni Battista de’ Cavalieri’s Antiquarum
Statuarum Urbis Romae, published between the 1560s and the 1590s.14 Cavalieri’s
reproductions were printed on small plates, without backgrounds, and
incorporated little information about the sculptures in their locations; the
lighting is not consistent and there is a lack of naturalism in the statues’
rendering. While the differences between Lafréry’s reproductions and what
Goltzius planned to create are less striking, the burin technique is more
refined in Goltzius’ works, his rendering of the statues more realistic and his
prints fractionally larger; moreover, he generally represented the statues from
closer vantage points, thereby creating more engaging compositions.15 What
audience did Goltzius have in mind when he produced his drawings and his
prints? While Cavalieri and Lafréry’s publications were mainly intended for
antiquaries and art lovers, Goltzius seems to have aimed at a broader audience
encompassing artists as well as amateurs. This is supported by his
emphasis on anatomical precision and the sculptures’ three-dimensional
character, rather than accu- racy of reproduction – he sometimes omitted
inscriptions, for example (see cat. 8); the presence of the draughtsman in the
print displayed is also significant in this connection. Goltzius’ project was
timely for around this period a market seems to have been developing for prints
after 110 publication, but found himself overwhelmed with other projects. In
most of his drawings after antique sculpture, Goltzius began with a sketch in
black and white chalk on bluish-grey paper, like this drawing of Apollo
Belvedere. The trial-and- error lines by the figure’s legs and waist suggest
that he had difficulty deciding on a vantage point. He would then have used a
stylus to indent the contours of that sketch onto a second sheet of paper, on
which he subsequently produced an extremely precise drawing of the statue. That
second version in red chalk, unfortunately now lost, would have served as the
model for the engraver. Teylers Museum has both drawings for the Farnese
Hercules Seen from Behind (see cat. 7a and fig. 2) but at some point Goltzius’
second version of the Apollo Belvedere was separated from the group that ended
in the Teylers Museum,20 for in the early 18th century it belonged to the
famous collector Valerius Röver (1686– 1739) of Delft,21 and was listed in his
inventory: ‘The Apollo, with red chalk, transferred to the copper by Goltzius,
which print is herewith attached, fl. 3:10’.22 The engraving is in the same
direction as the black chalk drawing, and the size of the statue is identical
in both.23 The most striking difference between them is the rendering of
volume. The statue appears a little flat in the drawing, while in the print it
is highly sculptural, with a keenly observed interplay between light and shade
across the form lending relief and depth to the engraving. As noted above,
Goltzius would have developed these features in the lost red chalk version of
the subject. It may be that this lost drawing also incorporated the draughtsman
seen in the lower right corner of the print, and the large cast shadow on the
left, accessories and details that Goltzius tended to vary from work to work.
In any event, these added elements reinforce the sense of depth; the
draughtsman also conveys an idea of the scale of the statue (see cat. 7). But
perhaps Goltzius added the young draughtsman for yet another reason. His
rendering of this figure is so direct, so true to life, that it appears to be a
portrait. The two small figures in his reproduction of the Farnese Hercules are
also represented in a fashion which suggests that these too are portraits (cat.
7, fig. 4). It seems that in Rome Goltzius asked a local artist, Gaspare Celio
(1571–1640), to draw copies of both classical and modern artworks for him and
they may have drawn some works together.24 Could this figure be Celio? Pure
speculation, of course, for remarkably little is known about this mysterious
individual.25 At any rate the figure of the draughtsman is seated exactly as
Goltzius must have positioned himself, although at a different angle, employing
the same technique (n.b. the porte-crayon), the same format paper and probably
the same travel board. And this may point to another reason for Goltzius’
introduction of the young draughtsman: to emphasise the didactic inten- tion of
the series and to convey the message that these prints allowed artists to draw
the finest Roman sculptures, just like the draughtsman in the image, without
having to go to Rome. Whatever the reason for this figure’s inclusion, his
presence demonstrates – as does Van Mander’s story of Goltzius amidst younger
artists – that during this period the copying of antique sculptures in Rome was
very widespread. The Apollo Belvedere is a Roman copy of a Greek original by
Leochares from c. 330–320 bc. The copy probably dates from the reign of Hadrian
(117–138 bc). In the late 15th cen- tury the Apollo was in the collection of
Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere, who, as Pope Julius II, placed it in the
Belvedere, where it was displayed in the small Cortile delle Statue (see p. 26,
fig. 21 and cat. 5). The Apollo Belvedere soon became one of the most famous
sculptures in the collection and was drawn by many artists. Prints of the
sculpture by Agostino Veneziano (c. 1518–20, see p. 28, fig. 29), Marcantonio
Raimondi (c. 1530) and Goltzius himself (c. 1617), among others, ensured that
its fame spread throughout Europe. However, the Apollo’s prestige began to fade
in the 19th century and nowadays the sculpture, while well-known to art
historians is less appreciated by the general public.26 Fig. 1. Anonymous
engraver after Marcantonio Raimondi, published by Antoine Lafréry, Apollo
Belvedere, 1552, engraving, 323 × 228 mm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, RP-P-H-232
antique statues for artists to employ as models. Between 1599 and 1616
Goltzius’ stepson Jacob Matham published the first known printed sketchbook
after the Antique, Verscheijden Cierage,16 intended, according to its title
page, for an interna- tional public of artists and amateurs.17 And it seems
likely that Goltzius envisaged the same international audience for his
projected series, perhaps particularly young students in Northern Europe – and
no doubt his own pupils – who were not able to undertake the trip to Rome but
could use his engravings as models.18 It was probably in 1592, soon after his
return from Italy, that Goltzius embarked on the print series, engraving after
his own drawings three of the statues: the Farnese Hercules Seen from Behind
(cat. 7), Hercules and Telephus and this Apollo Belvedere. It is unlikely that
Goltzius was disappointed with the results but he progressed no further with
the project and never officially printed the plates which were published
posthumously in 1617, bearing the address of the Haarlem publisher Herman
Adolfsz.19 We do not know why Goltzius did not publish these prints in his
lifetime but it may have been the result of excessive ambition. He probably
hoped to market a much longer series of prints in a single 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
11 12 13 14 15 16 mp I. M. Veldman revealed the Rudolf II provenance for
Goltzius’ Roman portfolio to be a myth. A more logical provenance might be, as
Veldman suggests, through Jacob Matham (1571–1631), Theodor Matham (1605/06–
76), Joachim von Sandrart (1606–88) and/or Pieter Spiering (1594/97–1652):
Veldman 2013–14, pp. 109–13. ‘An antique statue in Rome, in the Pope’s
Belvedere Palace; a work by H. Goltzius that is now being published
posthumously for the first time, in the year 1617’. ‘Barely born, I, Apollo of
the island of Delos, received arms from Vulcan; I sought the sacred heights of
Parnassus; with my arrows I pierced the dragon Python, my mother Leto’s enemy;
thus it is that I bear the name “Pythian”’. I wish to thank Professor Ilja
Veldman, who generously put at my disposal her Goltzius entries for the
forthcoming catalogue of the 16th-century Netherlandish drawings in the Teylers
Museum, which she is preparing with Yvonne Bleyerveld. For the early tradition
of Northern European artists going to Rome (includ- ing Gossaert, Van Scorel
and Van Heemskerck), see Brussels and Rome 1995. Van Mander 1994–99, vol. 1,
pp. 388–89 (fol. 282 verso). Ibid., pp. 390–91 (fol. 283 recto). Ibid. Luijten
2003–04, p. 123. Reznicek 1961, vol. 1, pp. 89–94, pp. 319–46, nos 200–38;
245–48. From the 1689–90 inventory of Goltzius drawings owned by Queen
Christina of Sweden it is known that Goltzius also produced (now lost) drawings
of two famous antique figures, the Spinario (now in the Capitoline Museums,
Rome, see p. 23, fig. 15) and the Farnese Bull (now in the Museo Archeologico
Nazionale, Naples); see Stolzenburg 2000, p. 437, nos. 140–41, p. 440, no. 180
and Veldman 2013–14, p. 101. Veldman 2012, pp. 11–23. Reznicek 1961, p. 90;
Brandt 2001, p. 136. Haskell and Penny 1981, p. 18; Brandt 2001, p. 136. Brandt
2001, pp. 143–46. Fuhring 1992, pp. 57–84. 111 17 Ibid., pp. 64–65, p.
76, pl. 1. 18 It is tempting at this point to think of the ‘Haarlem Academy’,
of which Goltzius was a member before his departure for Italy as a true
academy, where artists could draw from life and presumably also after
sculptures. However, in all probability this ‘academy’ comprised no more than
three artists: Karel van Mander, Cornelis Cornelisz. and Goltzius. See also
cat. 8. 19 Leesberg 2012b, vol. 2, pp. 368–75, nos 378–80; Luijten 2003–04, pp.
119–20. 20 For the provenance of the drawings see Stolzenburg 2000 and Veldman
2013–14. 21 Van Regteren Altena 1964, pp. 101–02, under no. 32. 22 ‘De Apollo,
met rootaarde, door Goltzius int koper gebragt, welke print hierbij gevoegt is,
f 3:10.’ See the manuscript catalogue by Valerius Röver in the Amsterdam University
Library, inv.no. II A 18: Catalogus van boeken, schilderijen, teekeningen,
printen, beelden, rariteiten [1730], portefeuille 2, no. 3. 23 In view of the
incomplete right hand and the missing left hand it seems likely that the sheet
has been trimmed on the right and left, and possibly at the top as well. 24
Baglione 1642, p. 377. 25 26 All we really know is that Celio must have drawn a
copy of Raphael’s fresco, The prophet Isaiah in the San Agostino in Rome for
Goltzius (see Luijten 2003, p. 118). Goltzius used this copy for his engraving;
see Leesberg 2012b, vol. 2, pp. 292–93, no. 333, repr. For a recently published
drawing by Celio in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, with a parade carriage of
his own design incorporating pyrotechnic features, see Stemerding 2012, pp.
13–17. For the history and the fortuna critica of the Apollo Belvedere: Haskell
and Penny 1981, pp. 148–51, no. 8; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, pp. 76–77, no.
28. Regarding the sculpture’s reputation today, which some describe as
bordering on total neglect, Kenneth Clark observed in 1969: ‘. . . for four
hundred years after it was discovered the Apollo was the most admired piece of
sculpture in the world. It was Napoleon’s greatest boast to have looted it from
the Vatican. Now it is completely forgotten except by the guides of coach
parties, who have become the only surviving transmitters of traditional
culture.’ Clark 1969a, p. 2. 7. Hendrick Goltzius (Bracht-am-Niederrhein
1558–1617 Haarlem) a. The Farnese Hercules Seen from Behind 1591 Red chalk,
indented for transfer, 390 × 215 mm. Verso: Design lightly traced in black
chalk from recto. The upper corners cut. literature: Scholten 1904, p. 40, cat.
N 19; Hirschmann 1921, p. 59; Reznicek 1961, vol. 1, p. 337, cat. K 227, vol.
2, fig. 179; Miedema 1969, pp. 76–77, repr. (recto and verso); Schapelhouman
1979, p. 67, note 3; Amsterdam 1993–94, pp. 361–62, under no. 24 (B. Cornelis);
Stolzenburg 2000, p. 439, no. 164; Brandt 2001, pp. 139, 144, fig. 132, p. 148;
Hamburg 2002, p. 116, under no. 34 (A. Stolzenburg) ; Leeflang 2012, pp. 24–25,
fig. 5; Leesberg 2012b, vol. 2, pp. 368–69, under no. 378; Göttingen 2013–14,
p. 210; Veldman 2013–14, pp. 102–05. exhibitions: New York 1988, pp. 58–60, no.
12; Brussels and Rome 1995, p. 204, no. 101; Luijten 2003–04, pp. 132–36, no.
42.2. Teylers Museum, Haarlem, inv. N 19 exhibited in haarlem only b. The
Farnese Hercules, 1592 (published 1617) Engraving Only state 416 × 300 mm
Lettered on the base of the statue: ‘HERCULES VICTOR’. Lettered in l.l. corner:
‘HGoltzius sculpt. Cum privilig. / Sa. Cæ. M.’ and ‘Herman Adolfz / excud.
Haerlemen’. Inscribed with two lines in the lower margin, at centre: ‘Statua
antiqua Romae in palatio Cardinalis Fernesij / opus posthumum H Goltzij iam
primum divulgata Ano M.D.CXVII.2 Two Latin distichs by Theodorus Schrevelius in
margin l.l. and l.r.: ‘Domito triformi rege Lusitaniae / Raptisque malis, quae
Hesperi sub cardine / Servarat hortis aureis vigil draco, / Fessus quievi
terror orbis Hercules.’3 Numbered in l.l. corner: ‘1’. provenance: Bequest of
Carel Godfried Voorhelm Schneevoogt (1802–77), Haarlem. literature: Bartsch
1803–21, vol. 3, pp. 44–45, no. 143; Hirschmann 1921, pp. 58–59, no. 145;
Hollstein 1949–2001, vol. 8, p. 33, no. 145, repr.; Strauss 1977, vol. 2, pp. 562–63,
no. 312, repr., p. 569; Leesberg 2012b, vol. 2, pp. 368–69, no. 378, repr. 112
113 1 Odescalchi (1658–1713); purchased from the Odescalchi family by the
Teylers Foundation, 1790. provenance: Queen Christina of Sweden (1626–89);
Cardinal Decio Azzolini (1623–89); Marchese Pompeo Azzolini (1654–1706); Don
Livio exhibitions: Not previously exhibited. Teylers Museum, Haarlem, inv. KG
02263 The Farnese Hercules, which bears a Greek inscription naming ‘Glykon of
Athens’, a sculptor unknown in classical litera- ture, was one of the most
famous statues in Rome from the time of its discovery until the end of the 19th
century (fig. 1).4 The first certain mention of it dates from 1556, when it
stood in Palazzo Farnese.5 The fragments, unearthed at different times, must
have been reassembled shortly before. The head was found in a well in
Trastevere, probably around 1540. The torso was discovered six years later in
the Baths of Caracalla, followed by the legs.6 However, the legs emerged too
late to be incorporated in the statue because it had already been ‘restored’
and given new ones by Guglielmo della Porta (1500/10–1577). Oddly enough,
Michelangelo allegedly appealed to the Farnese family to leave the new legs in
place and not replace them with the originals, ‘in order to show that works of
modern sculpture can stand in compari- son with those of the ancients’.7 The
statue recovered its original legs only in the 18th century. In addition to the
Palazzo Farnese, Goltzius drew studies on the Capitol, the Quirinal and in the
Belvedere statue court (see cats 6, 8). He had an ambitious plan for his
drawings: they were to prepare a series of high-quality and accurate engravings
of the most important classical statues, on a scale not previ- ously
attempted.8 The importance he attached to the project is evident from the care
he lavished on many of his drawings. In preparation for this one, which is in
red chalk, he first made an equally large, slightly freer and more loosely
drawn black chalk version on blue paper (fig. 2; see cat. 6a). He then indented
the contours through onto the white sheet on which he made the present drawing.
The contours are conse- quently razor-sharp. He then exercised phenomenal skill
in depicting the statue’s volume and the smooth texture of the marble with a
subtle interplay of light and shade. He achieved this by leaving reserves of
white paper, by alternating pressure on the chalk and by stumping it here and
there so that individual strokes are no longer visible.9 114
115 Fig. 1. The Farnese Hercules, back view, Roman
copy of the 3rd century ad of a Greek original of the 4th century bc, 317 cm
(h), Museo Archeologico Nazionale, Naples, inv. 6001 Fig. 2. Hendrick Goltzius,
The Farnese Hercules seen from Behind, 1591, black and white chalk on blue
paper indented for transfer, 360 × 210 mm, Teylers Museum, Haarlem, inv. K III
30 Fig. 3. Hendrick Goltzius, The Farnese Hercules, black and white chalk on
blue paper, indented for transfer, 382 × 189 mm, Teylers Museum, Haarlem, inv.
N 20 Fig. 4. Hendrick Goltzius, Two Male Heads: Jan Matthijsz Ban and Philips
van Winghen (?), metalpoint on an ivory-coloured prepared tablet, 92 × 117 mm,
Amsterdam Museum, inv. A 10180 demonstrate that he had seen the sculpture in
the round, making this clear by depicting the figure’s ‘alien’ back as well as
its usual front. His choice was probably inspired by a combination of these
factors. The Amsterdam Museum houses Goltzius’ preparatory drawing (fig. 4) of
the two men whose admiring, upturned gazes provide such a fine connection
between the front and back of the Farnese Hercules.16 In the engraving they are
repre- sented in mirror image and have been exchanged for each other. They have
portrait-like features and their identities have been a subject for
speculation. The most serious suggestion made so far, dating from the end of
the 19th century, is that they were Goltzius’ temporary travelling companions:
Jan Matthijsz Ban on the left and Philips van Winghen (d. 1592) on the right;
they may even have witnessed him drawing this statue.17 It is difficult to
verify this sugges- tion, but it is certainly interesting and plausible.
Goltzius had produced, albeit on a larger scale, several portraits of his
circle of acquaintances in Rome and elsewhere such as Giambologna (1529–1608),
Dirck de Vries ( fl. 1590–92) and Jan van der Straet, also called Stradanus
(1523–1605; see cat. 4).18 Most of his sitters, like Ban and Van Winghen, were
northern artists active in Italy. Ban was a silversmith, and Van Winghen is
described by Karel van Mander as ‘a learned young nobleman from Brussels [ . .
. ] who was a great archaeologist’.19 According to Van Mander the three of them
made an excursion from Rome to Naples in the spring of 1591.20 Van Winghen died
unexpectedly in 1592,21 and it was maybe as a tribute to his friend that
Goltzius included him in the plate that he cut that same year. mp 1 2 3 4 5 6 7
8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 See footnote 1 in cat. 6. ‘An antique
statue in Rome, in the palace of Cardinal Farnese; a work by H. Goltzius that
is now being published posthumously for the first time, in the year 1617’. ‘Now
that I have vanquished the King of Spain with his three bodies [Geryon] and
have stolen the apples that were guarded by a vigilant dragon under the western
heaven in the golden garden, I, Hercules, the terror of the world, rest from my
labours’. I wish to thank Professor Ilja Veldman, who generously put at my
disposal her Goltzius entries for the forthcoming catalogue of the sixteenth-
century Netherlandish drawings in the Teylers Museum, which she is preparing
with Yvonne Bleyerveld. U. Aldrovandi, ‘Delle statue antiche, che per tutta
Roma ... si veggono’, in Mauro 1556, pp. 157–58. The Hercules, today in the
Museo Archeologico Nazionale in Naples, is regarded as an enlarged copy of the
3rd century ad after an original by Lysippos or someone from his school of the
4th century bc. For its history and fortuna critica see Haskell and Penny 1981,
pp. 229–32, no. 46; Gasparri 2009–10, vol. 3, pp. 17–20, no. 1. Haskell and
Penny 1981, p. 229. Baglione 1642 (facsimile edition, Rome 1935), p. 151: ‘. .
. per mostrare con quel rifarcimento si degno al mondo, che le opere della
scultura moderna potevano stare al paragone de’lavori antichi’. Reznicek 1961,
vol. 2, pp. 89–94; Brandt 2001, passim; Luijten 2003–04, pp. 117–25. For both
drawings see Luijten 2003–04, pp. 132–36. Göttingen 2013–14, pp. 210–11. For
the prints by Bos and Ghisi see Göttingen 2013–14, pp. 205–07, no. II. 18
(Ghisi) and pp. 285–86, no. IV.09 (Bos). Brandt 2001, pp. 143–46. It has been
suggested that Goltzius was prompted to make his unorthodox choice by a
description in Pliny of a painting by Apelles of Hercules with Face Averted,
whose features could nevertheless be guessed. Goltzius may have known the
related engraving by G. J. Caraglio after Rosso Fiorentino: see Luijten
2003–04, p. 134 (with previous literature). For the dating of the three prints
see Reznicek 1961, p. 419; Boston and St. Louis 1981–82, p. 12, under no. 6.
See the painting Rest by Nicolaes Berchem the Elder (1620–83) dated 1644 in the
Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York and the painting The Return from the
Hunt, also by Berchem, from c. 1670 in The J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles,
both of which include a male figure whose attitude is clearly based on that of
the Farnese Hercules (Amsterdam and Washington D.C. 1981–82, p. 67, fig. 2;
Haarlem, Zurich and elsewhere 2006–07, p. 85, cat. 45, repr.). A drawing by
Berchem, Standing Herdsman from the Back in the Rijksmuseum, prepares the
figure of the standing herdsman in the New York painting (see Amsterdam and
Washington D.C., 1981–82, p. 67, fig. 1). Schapelhouman 1979, p. 67 (with
earlier literature); Luijten 2003–04, pp. 135–36. Hymans 1884–85, p. 187, note
1. Schapelhouman (1979, p. 67) does not believe this, while Luijten (2003–04,
pp. 135–36) considers it plausible. It is curious that Goltzius altered the
preparatory drawing of the two men’s heads in the engraving (fig. 3): in
addition to representing them in mirror image and swopping them over, he
depicted them in the same scale as well. Ban (if it is indeed Ban) is now
somewhat taller than Van Winghen, which would reflect reality for Van Mander
reports that Ban was a sizeable man (Van Mander 1994–99, vol. 1, pp. 392–93,
fol. 283v). Schapelhouman 2003–04, pp. 147–58. Van Mander 1994–99, vol. 1, pp.
392–93 (fol. 283v). Ibid. Between 1592 and 1597 Jacob Matham engraved a
portrait of Philips van Winghen after another (unknown) drawing by Goltzius;
see Widerkehr and Leeflang 2007, vol. 2, p. 256, no. 263. However beautiful the
two drawings in black and red chalk may be, it is only in Goltzius’ engraving
that we really see what he intended. The backlit effect of the Farnese Hercules
is seen to best advantage in the print, in which the added clouds have a
functional role by creating a sense of depth and atmosphere. It is enhanced by
the two observers, also only introduced in the print stage, who help to convey
the statue’s scale. As we view Hercules from behind, the two admirers are gazing
upon the sunlit front. The resulting interaction between front and back,
between seeing and imagining, gives the print an agreeable tension that is
missing in the drawings.10 Goltzius was probably familiar with the Farnese
Hercules even before he went to Italy from descriptions in travel guides to
Rome, through prints of 1562 and around 1575 by Jacobus Bos (c. 1520–c. 1580)
and Giorgio Ghisi (1520–82)11 and possibly also from the larger print series by
Giovanni Battista de’ Cavalieri (1570–84) and Antoine Lafréry (c. 1575).12 All
showed the Hercules from the front, but Goltzius drew it from both sides (fig.
3). He seems to have been the first artist to appreciate its beauty from the
back, or, at least, the first to record it on paper. He must have been very
pleased with the 116 unorthodox view13 because he chose this viewpoint in 1592
when he issued the engraving, one of the only three that he engraved from his
series of drawings (see also cat. 6b).14 It was thanks to Goltzius’ engraving
that the back view of the statue became as popular as the front (see cats 16
and 21). Something of this popularity is revealed by the fact that by the
mid-17th century the Hercules Farnese seen from the rear, bending slightly
forwards with his arm on his back, had permeated Dutch genre painting.15 The
question arises: why did Goltzius choose to adopt this angle? Could it be that
he had a didactic purpose in mind when he produced the first rendering in a
print series of the back of a muscular male body at rest? With Goltzius’ magnificent
print in hand, young artists could now study the anatomy of a ‘hero’s’ back and
use this in their own work. Goltzius’ print of the Apollo Belvedere (cat. 6b)
offered a similar aid with the anatomy of an elegant youth. Goltzius also drew
other figures, such as the Belvedere Torso (cat. 8), from several angles, but
in these he was probably experi- menting with different points of view rather
than having a didactic aim in mind. Goltzius might also have chosen to
represent both sides of the Farnese Hercules expressly to 117 8. Hendrick
Goltzius (Bracht-am-Niederrhein 1558–1617 Haarlem) The Belvedere Torso 1591 Red
chalk, 255 × 166 mm provenance: Queen Christina of Sweden (1626–89)1; Cardinal
Decio Azzolini (1623–89); Marchese Pompeo Azzolini (1654–1706); Don Livio
Odescalchi (1658–1713); purchased from the Odescalchi family by the Teylers
Foundation, 1790. literature: Scholten 1904, p. 42, no. N 31; Reznicek, 1961,
vol. 2, pp. 321–22, no. 201, vol. 2, fig. 156; Miedema 1969, pp. 76–77; Brummer
1970, pp. 146, note 27, 148, repr.; Van Gelder and Jost 1985, vol. 1, p. 109;
Stolzenburg 2000, p. 437, no. 143; Brandt 2001, p. 148; Goddard 2001–02, p. 39
(erroneously as a drawing in black chalk); Florence 2008, p. 62, under no. 33
(M. Schapelhouman); Bober and Rubinstein 2010, p. 183, under no. 132; Nichols
2013a, pp. 56, 146, under no. A-37, fig. 31. exhibitions: Recklinghausen 1964,
no. 87 [unpaginated]; Munich and Rome 1998–99, pp. 44, fig. 43, 160, no. 49;
Luijten 2003–04, pp. 130–31, no. 41.1. Teylers Museum, Haarlem, inv. no. N
31 From the High Renaissance onwards the Belvedere Torso was one of the
most celebrated of ancient statues, despite its fragmentary state.2 In the past
it was identified as the torso of Hercules because of the anatomy and the
lion’s skin on which it is seated. However, in the late 19th century doubts
were raised as to whether the skin really was that of a lion, making the
Hercules identification uncertain.3 Although the Torso is comprehensively
signed ‘Apollonius, son of Nestor, of Athens’, his name is not found in
classical literature. It is assumed that he lived in the 1st century bc and
that the Torso is a repetition or paraphrase of an earlier model. Although the
statue was known from the 1430s, it was only when it was in the collection of
the sculptor Andrea Bregno in the later 15th century that it began to arouse
interest; in the early 16th century the sculpture entered the papal collections
and was placed in the Belvedere (see p. 26, fig. 23). Direct correspondences
with many of Michelangelo’s painted and drawn nude figures demonstrate the
importance of the Belvedere Torso for the great Italian artist and shortly
after Michelangelo’s death a number of stories emerged connecting him with the
Torso.4 According to such one tale, he had been surprised by a cardinal
kneeling before the statue (though only in order to examine it as closely as
possible).5 In 1590 Giovanni Paggi wrote from Florence to his brother Girolamo:
‘Michelangelo called himself a pupil of the Belvedere Torso, which he said he
had studied greatly, and indeed that he speaks the truth of this is to be seen
in his works.’6 Describing the statue as ‘the school of Michelangelo’ took this
association a step further.7 And yet the Renaissance artist appears to have
spoken only once about the Torso, albeit in highly positive language: Ulisse
Aldrovandi (1522– 1605) noted, in 1556 when the artist was still alive, that
the Torso was ‘singularmente lodato da Michel’Angelo’.8 Not surprisingly the
statue acquired great status both north and south of the Alps. This status
probably preserved it from the restoration suffered by many antique sculptures
in later centuries. Goltzius also seems to have felt the mysterious beauty of
the Torso, for he drew it no less than four times. All four drawings were
together in the collection of Queen Christina of Sweden (1626–89).9 But while
two are now in the Teylers Museum (fig. 1) the other two have been lost.
Goltzius undoubtedly knew the Torso even before he arrived in Italy, for
reduced copies after the sculpture circulated throughout Europe in the 16th
century; thus Goltzius’ friend and fellow Haarlem artist, Cornelis Cornelisz.
van Haarlem (1562–1638), had used the Torso as the model for a nude figure in a
painting Fig. 1. Hendrick Goltzius, The Belvedere Torso, c. 1591, black chalk,
253 × 175 mm, Teylers Museum, Haarlem, inv. no. K I 30 118 119 of
the late 1580s.10 It is reasonable to suppose that the Torso would have been
discussed at meetings of the ‘Haarlem Academy’,11 which Karel van Mander,
Cornelis Cornelisz. van Haarlem and Goltzius had set up in the mid-1580s. One
of the purposes of their ‘academy’ was to allow them to ‘study from life’ (om
nae ‘t leven te studeeren), which meant they drew from nude models and probably
from sculpture, plaster casts or other three-dimensional specimens as well.12
We may assume that during these drawing sessions they discussed human anatomy
and the exemplary way classical artists had depicted it. All three were able to
quote directly from the antique with the aid of Maarten van Heemskerck’s Roman
sketchbook (now Kupferstichkabinett, Berlin), which was then owned by Cornelis
Cornelisz. van Haarlem13 and which contained two views of the Torso.14 It is
noteworthy that Goltzius, who was generally meticulously faithful in his
depiction of classical sculptures, was not always so precise in his treatment
of the inscrip- tions on their pedestals.15 In his red chalk drawing of the
Belvedere Torso from the front he has omitted the signature, which would have
been clearly visible on the base. Even more curious is the fact that he
completely ignored the wear suffered by the statue, the result of decades spent
outdoors. Instead his drawings give the sculpture a freshness that makes it
seem alive. This emphasis on the statue’s lifelikeness and beauty can probably
be explained by Goltzius’ intention that these drawings should serve as
preparations for prints with an educational purpose: the study of anatomy based
on ideal models. The muscles of Goltzius’ Torso appear to be tensed, the skin
lifelike and infused with warmth. The muscles’ extreme exaggeration and
restless tension clearly display a Mannerist emphasis.16 Once in Rome,
surrounded by the clear, classic, ideal vocabulary of ancient statuary,
Goltzius would reject Mannerist exaggeration so the fact that he did not decide
to do so here may indicate that these two studies after the Torso were among
the first drawings he produced after his arrival in Rome. It is interesting to
note that Goltzius clearly used the Belvedere Torso in his fine Back of an
Athletic Man, now in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence (fig. 2).17 This drawing is
one of his Federkunststücke, or virtuoso drawings in pen, whose linear
execution often imitates engravings, with lines that swell and taper. Curiously,
the backbone in this drawing curves slightly to the left, while that of the
sculpture curves to the right. Is this a conscious change by Goltzius or did he
recall the statue in mirror image? The suggestion has sometimes been made that
Goltzius produced this great drawing in Italy to display his virtuosity with
the pen;18 however, we know that Goltzius travelled incognito to avoid admirers
(see cat. 6), 120 9. Peter Paul Rubens (Siegen 1577–1640 Antwerp) Two Studies
of a Boy Model Posed as the ‘Spinario’ c. 1600–02 Red chalk with touches of
white chalk, 201 × 362 mm Inscribed recto, l.r., in pen and brown ink by a late
17th- or early 18th-century hand: ‘Rubens’ provenance: Gabriel Huquier
(1695–1772); William Fawkener; his bequest to Museum, 1769. literature: Hind
and Popham 1915–32, vol. 2, p. 22, no. 52; Burchard and D’Hulst 1963, vol. 1,
pp. 34–35, no. 16 and vol. 2, pl. 16; Stechow 1968, pp. 53–55, fig. 43; Held
1986, p. 82, no. 39, pl. 23 on p. 172; New York 1988, p. 77, under no. 18, fig.
18-I; Van der Meulen 1994–95, vol. 1, p. 80; Paris 2000–01, p. 419, under no.
222, fig. 222a. exhibitions: London 1977, pp. 28–29, no. 14 (J. Rowlands);
London 2009–10 (no catalogue). Department of Prints and Drawings, The British
Museum, London, inv. T,14.1 Fig. 2. Hendrick Goltzius, Back of an
Athletic Man, pen and brown ink, 150 × 165 mm, Uizi, Florence, inv. no. 2365 F
so he is unlikely to have felt a need to demonstrate his virtuoso skills.
Perhaps Goltzius created this virtuoso draw- ing after his Italian trip, or
even before he went to Italy as he was already producing pen work of this
quality in the 1580s.19 The son of a wealthy Antwerp family, Rubens was born in
the German city of Siegen in 1577 but in 1589 returned with his family to
Antwerp where he received a humanistic education at the Latin School run by
Rumoldus Verdonck (1541–1620) and an artistic one with the painters Tobias
Verhaeght (1561–1631), Adam van Noort (1561–1641) and Otto van Veen (c.
1556–1629). After entering the Guild of St Luke as an established painter in
1598, Rubens set out for Italy in May 1600. This fundamental step in Rubens’
training had been carefully prepared not only by the study of engravings of
classical statues and Renaissance masters by Marcantonio Raimondi (c. 1480–1527/34)
and his pupils assembled by van Veen in his workshop, but also by eager reading
of Roman texts such as Suetonius, Tacitus and Pliny the Elder.1 The impact of
classical antiquity on Rubens’ art and theory of art was immense. Before
arriving in Rome in 1601, Rubens spent time in Venice, then Mantua, in the
service of the Duke Vincenzo I Gonzaga (r. 1587–1612) as a painter and a
curator of his collections, and also in Florence. Although based in Mantua,
Rubens spent two extended periods in Rome, first from July 1601 until April
1602 and again from late 1605 (or early 1606) until October 1608.2 During this
second period he shared a house with his scholarly elder brother Philip
(1574–1611), a pupil of the Flemish philologist and humanist Justus Lipsius (1547–1606).
In Rome Philip Rubens worked on the Electorum Libri duo published in Antwerp in
1608, an influential study of the customs, morals and dress of the ancients.
Peter Paul assisted Philip in making drawings from ancient monuments in
prepara- tion for the plates, and he also contributed to their explanatory
notes. Rubens’ commitment to the systematic study of classical antiquities, and
in particular of sculpture in the round, is testified to by the large number of
sketches and drawings he made during his Italian period, but also by those he
executed after his return to Antwerp in 1608.3 In Rome Rubens visited the
Belvedere Courtyard and some of the most important private aristocratic
collections, such as the Borghese, the Medici, the Farnese, the Mattei and the
Giustiniani. His drawings after the Antique are among the most extraordi- nary
ever produced, most of them in red or black chalk; they show Rubens’ great
virtuosity in handling the medium and, at the same time, his deep understanding
of the formal principles of the antique statues. He obsessively sketched some
of the most ‘muscular’ masterpieces of classical statuary, such as the Laocoön
(see p. 26, fig. 19) and the Farnese Hercules (see p. 30, fig. 32), from all
sides, many angles and in great detail, in order to assimilate thoroughly the
anatomical structure and the mathematical proportions of the human body as part
of his search for the rules of perfection achieved by ancient artists.4
Returning to Antwerp in 1608, Rubens established his own studio in an
Italianate villa in the centre of the city – today the Rubenshuis. His drawings
after the Antique, bound in several books, remained in his studio and continued
to serve not only as an important reference and source of inspiration for
Rubens himself, but probably also as teaching tools for his pupils. The
purchase in 1618 by Rubens of the collection of ancient sculptures owned by the
English diplomat and collector Sir Dudley Carleton (1573–1632) represented the
first step towards the formation of one of the most important – but short-lived
– collections of antiqui- ties in Northern Europe, which Rubens sold on to the
1st Duke of Buckingham in 1626.5 The pre-eminent figure of the Flemish Baroque,
a universal genius, Rubens also had an active diplomatic career which in the
1620s led him to travel between the courts of Spain and England. His last
decade, the 1630s, was mostly spent in Antwerp, where he devoted himself
entirely to painting. Rubens’ theory on both the usefulness and dangers of
copying after the Antique are effectively expressed in his essay De Imitatione
Statuarum, a short treatise on the imitation of sculpture that remained in
manuscript in Rubens’ lifetime 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19
mp See footnote 1 in cat. 6. Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 311–14, no. 80, fig.
165; Munich and Rome 1998–99; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, pp. 181–84, no. 132.
Wünsche 1998–99, p. 67. Michelangelo did indeed use the Torso directly as a
model; see Wünsche 1998–99, pp. 31–37; Haarlem and London 2005–06, pp. 116–17.
Haskell and Penny 1981, p. 312. Guhl 1880, vol. 2, p. 42; Schwinn 1973, pp.
36–37. Wright 1730, vol. 1, p. 268; Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 312–13; Schwinn
1973, p. 172; Montreal 1992, pp. 76–77. ‘... un torso grande di Hercole ignudo,
assiso sopra un tronco del medisimo marmo: non ha testa, ne braccia, ne gambe.
È stato questo busto singularmente lodato da Michel’Angelo’. U. Aldrovandi,
‘Delle statue antiche, che per tutta Roma ... si veggono’, in Mauro 1556, p.
115. For Aldrovandi’s complete text ‘nel giardino di Belvedere, sopra il
Palagio del Papa’, see Brummer 1970, pp. 268–69. Stolzenburg 2000, pp. 437, nos
142–44, 439, no. 161. Van Thiel 1999, pp. 79, 294, no. 7, pl. 34. According to
an anonymous biographer, shortly after arriving in Haarlem, around 1583, Karel
van Mander entered into a collaboration with Goltzius and Cornelis Cornelisz.
van Haarlem, described as follows: ‘the three of them maintained and made an
Academy, for studying from life’, see Van Mander 1994–1999, vol. 1, pp. 26–27
(fol. S2 recto), vol. 2, pp. 70–72; Van Thiel 1999, pp. 59–90. It should be
stressed that this academy was in no way an institution for advanced
professional training: such institutions came into being only in the 18th
century (see Van Mander 1994–99, vol. 2, p. 70). It is unclear how and for what
length of time this ‘Haarlem Academy’ exactly functioned (see also Leeflang
2003–04a, p. 16; Leeflang 2003–04b, p. 252. Veldman 2012, pp. 11–23. Hülsen and
Egger 1913–16, vol. 1, p. 34 (fol. 63), p. 40 (fol. 73). See also Brummer 1970,
pp. 144–45, figs 125–26. Brandt 2001, p. 143. Reznicek 1961, vol. 1, pp.
321–22, no. K 201; Luijten 2003–04, p. 131. Reznicek 1961, vol 1, p. 452, no.
431, vol. 2, fig. 132; Florence 2008, pp. 61–62, no. 33 (M. Schapelhouman). Reznicek
1961, vol. 1, p. 452. Schapelhouman (in Florence 2008, p. 62) has previously
questioned the Italian dating for Back of an Athletic Man; for pen works by
Goltzius from the 1580s see: Amsterdam, New York and elsewhere 2003–04, pp.
238–39, figs 93–94, 242–46, nos 84–85. 121 but was published by the art
theorist Roger de Piles in his Cours de peinture par principles of 1708 (see
Appendix, no. 8).6 While emphasising the importance for an artist of becoming
deeply familiar with the perfection embodied in ancient models, Rubens warned
that ‘[the imitation of antique statues] must be judiciously applied, and so
that it may not in the least smell of stone’.7 The warning against the risk of
hardening one’s style by copying ancient sculptures, thus creating paintings
that looked ‘dry’ and eccentric, had already been pointed out by several
16th-century artists and theore- ticians, such as Giorgio Vasari (1511–74),
Ludovico Dolce (1508–68) and Giovanni Battista Armenini (1530–1609).8 Later in
the 17th century the pernicious effect on painting of too-slavish imitation of
antique statuary would be summa- rised by the Bolognese art theorist Carlo
Cesare Malvasia (1616–93) with the specific neologism ‘statuino’ or ‘statue-
like’.9 As stressed by Rubens in the De Imitatione, young artists needed to
learn how to transform marble into flesh instead of depicting figures as
‘coloured marble’. The two studies on one sheet presented here perfectly
express Rubens’ views: they are in fact an example of a practice – setting live
models in the poses of famous ancient statues – already diffused from the Early
Renaissance (see p. 23, fig. 14) and common practice within the curricula of
the French and Italian academies.10 Through this exercise Rubens could
concentrate on the classical pose and disre- gard the ‘matter’, something that
he repeated in modified form several times, in studies of live models in poses
remi- niscent of the Belvedere Torso, the Laocoön and other canonical
statues.11 In the present drawing, the young model is seen from his left side
in the pose of one of the most celebrated bronzes in Rome, the Spinario
(‘Thorn-puller’), recorded in the city as early as the 12th century among the
antiquities at the Lateran Palace and donated by Pope Sixtus IV (r. 1471– 84)
to the Palazzo dei Conservatori in 1471 (fig. 1, see also p. 23, fig. 15).12
Interpreted in the Renaissance as the personifi- cation of the month of March
or a shepherd, the Spinario has been recently recognised as the young Ascanius,
the son of Aeneas and founder of the gens Iulia.13 The right-hand drawing
faithfully imitates the pose of the statue, with the head looking down towards
the gesture of extracting a thorn from the foot; the left-hand drawing, in
contrast, modifies the original by turning the head towards the spectator and
altering the action so that the youth no longer withdraws a thorn from his
foot, but dries it with a towel. Two similar studies, presumably after the same
young model, are preserved in the Musée des Beaux-Arts, Dijon (fig. 2) and in
London (private collection): the former, in red chalk, shows the model from his
back and his right;14 the latter, in black chalk, from his left.15 The three
drawings were probably done in the same session and they have been dated to one
of Rubens’ two Roman periods, probably the first one (1600–02).16 As long ago
noted by Wolfgang Stechow,17 the pose of 122 123 Fig. 1. (left)
Spinario (Thorn-Puller), 1st century bc, bronze, 73 cm (h), Capitoline Museums,
Sala dei Trionfi, Rome, inv. 1186 Fig. 2. (above) Peter Paul Rubens, Two
Studies of a Young Model Posing as the Spinario, red chalk with touches of
black chalk, 246 × 382 mm, Musée des Beaux-Arts, Dijon, inv. sup. 49D the
Spinario was employed by Rubens for a young man drying his feet in the Baptism
of Christ, painted for the Jesuit church of Santa Trinità in Mantua in 1605 and
now in the Royal Museum of Fine Arts in Antwerp, a preparatory drawing for
which is in the Louvre,18 as well as for Susanna in Susanna and the Elders, a
painting executed in Rome about 1606–08, 19 ed 1 For Rubens’ early years see
Muller 2004, pp. 13–15. 2 On Rubens in Rome and his approach to the Antique see
esp. Stechow 1968; Jaffé 1977, pp. 79–84; Muller 1982; Van der Meulen 1994–95,
vol. 1, pp. 41–81; Muller 2004, pp. 18–28. 3 On Rubens’ drawings after the
Antique see the fundamental catalogue in Van der Meulen 1994–95, vol. 2. 4 See
Ayomonino’s essay in this catalogue, pp. 46–52. 5 See Muller 1989, passim;
Muller 2004, pp. 35–56. On the collection of antiquities see in particular
Muller 1989, pp. 82–87; Antwerp 2004, pp. 260–63 (F. Healy). On the sale to the
1st Duke of Buckingham see Muller 2004, pp. 62–63. 6 On the De Imitatione see
Muller 1982; Van der Meulen 1994–95, vol. 1, esp. note 11, pp. 77–78, note 44;
Antwerp 2004, pp. 298–99; Jaffé and Bradley 2005–06; Jaffé 2010. Transcribed in
Appendix, no. 8, from De Piles 1743, pp. 87–88. For Vasari see Bettarini
Barocchi 1966–87, for instance vol. 3, pp. 549–50 and vol. 5, pp. 495–61. For
Dolce see Appendix, no. 4. See Armenini 1587, esp. pp. 59–60 (book I, chap. 8),
pp. 86–89 (book II, chap. 3). The concept was repeated later also by Bernini
during his visit to Paris in 1665: see Appendix, no. 9. See also Van der Meulen
1994–95, vol. 1, pp. 77–78. Malvasia 1678, vol. 1, pp. 359, 365, 484. On the
17th-century neologism ‘statuino’ see Pericolo, forthcoming. See Aymonino’s
essay in this volume, pp. 50–52. Van der Meulen 1994–95, vol. 1, pp. 80–81. The
statue is traditionally considered to be an eclectic work of the 1st century bc:
see Stuart Jones 1926, pp. 43–47, no. 2; Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 308–10,
no. 78; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, p. 254, no. 203. Recent analysis has proved
that the classicistic head, dating to the 5th century bc, was added to the
Hellenistic body and given a Roman subject presumably in the 1st century bc,
see Rome forthcoming. Rome forthcoming. Held 1986, p. 82; Paris 2000–01, pp.
417–18, no. 222. Held 1986, p. 82; Paris 2000–01, p. 418, fig. 222b. Held 1986,
p. 82. Stechow 1968, pp. 54–55. See also Van der Meulen 1994–95, vol. 1, pp.
80–81. Lugt 1949, pp. 12–13, no. 1009, pl. XIV; Antwerp 1977, p. 129, no. 121.
Coliva 1994, p. 170, no. 88. 10. Odoardo Fialetti (Bologna 1573–c. 1638 Venice)
Artist’s Studio c. 1608 Etching in Odoardo Fialetti, Il vero modo et ordine per
dissegnar tutte le parti et membra del corpo humano, Venice, Justus Sadeler,
1608 110 × 152 mm (plate); 194 × 238 mm (sheet) Inscribed l.l. with Fialetti’s
monogram and ‘A 2’ and ‘No 208’. provenance: Elmar Seibel, Boston, from whom
acquired. literature: Rosand 1970, pp. 12–22, fig. 10; Buffa 1983, pp. 315–37,
nos 198 (295) – 243 (301), repr. (for the Artist’s Studio, p. 321, no. 210
(298), repr.); Amornpichetkul 1984, pp. 108–09, fig. 83; Bolten 1985, pp.
240–43, 245 and 248; Boston, Cleveland and elsewhere 1989, pp. 248–49, no. 130
(D. P. Becker); London 2001–02, pp. 198–200, no. 143; Houston and Ithaca
2005–06, pp. 94–96, no. 24 ( J. Clifford); Walters 2009, vol. 1, pp. 68–79,
vol. 2, pp. 254–76, figs. 3.9–3.53; Walters 2014, pp. 62–63, fig. 59; Whistler
2015 (forthcoming). and now in the Borghese Gallery. 124 125 exhibitions: Not
previously exhibited. Katrin Bellinger collection, London, 2002–013 A prolific
artist whose large and diverse body of work comprises some fifty-five paintings
and about 450 prints, Fialetti was born in Bologna in 1573 but moved to Venice
where he was apprenticed to Jacopo Tintoretto (1519–94) and where he later
collaborated with Palma Giovane (c. 1548– 1628).1 By 1596 he was listed as a
printmaker and, from 1604 to 1612, a member of the Venetian painters’ guild,
the Arte dei Pittori; he joined the Scuola Grande di San Teodoro between 1620
and 1622.2 His wide-ranging graphic oeuvre comprises religious, mythological,
and literary subjects as well as landscapes, portraits, depictions of sport
(fencing and hunt- ing), ornamental motifs and anatomical studies, and appears
in different formats and genres, from single or series of prints to complete
illustrations for books.3 His etchings remained influential for decades after
his death not only in Venice and northern Italy, but even in France and
England.4 Without doubt Fialetti’s most admired and influential works were his
two volumes of etchings: Il vero modo et ordine per dissegnar tutte le parte et
membra del corpo humano (‘The true means and method to draw all the parts of
the human body’) and Tutte le parti del corpo humano diviso in piu pezzi . . .
(‘all the parts of the human body divided into multiple pieces’). The first was
published in Venice in 1608 by Justus Sadeler (Flanders 1583–1620), and the
second, which is undated, presumably appeared in Venice shortly thereafter. The
two books are varied in their plates and paginations and exist in different
compilations, sometimes confusingly, combining elements of both as in the
example shown here.5 The first of their kind to be published in Italy, these
books served as portable instruction manuals in drawing for beginners and
amateurs. They provided techniques for the correct construction of the human
face and body and they also illustrate the crucial role of copying plaster
casts in work- shop practice at the end of the 16th and beginning of the 17th
centuries. The Bellinger volume includes a frontispiece dedication to Cesare
d’Este, the Duke of Modena and Reggio (1561–1628), a leaf with a further
dedication to Giovanni Grimani (the Venetian patrician and collector of
antiquities, 1506–93), six pages with step-by-step instructions on draw- ing
eyes, ears and faces, another title page, Tutte le parti . . . and thirty
leaves of further faces, various parts of the body – arms, legs, torsos –
grotesque heads and portraits.6 The volume concludes with two religious
etchings by Palma Giovane.7 Unusual for manuals of the period is the scene
depicted on the first plate following the dedications: a lively and infor- mal
artists’ workshop, sometimes thought to be Tintoretto’s.8 In the foreground,
young students seated on low wooden benches draw diligently before models and
assorted plaster casts of body parts arranged on and below a table, while two
older artists are painting at large easels in the background.9 At the far left,
an apprentice grinds pigments. Scattered on the ground are various artists’
tools including compasses, an inkwell and feather quill pen. Boy draughtsmen
representing three different ages – roughly from six to sixteen – diligently
record a cast of the young Marcus Aurelius, similar in type to the marble of
161– 180 ad now in the Capitoline Museum in Rome (fig. 1).10 Behind them, two
slightly older boys enthusiastically discuss a completed copy. The torso next
to the bust, although reminiscent of the Belvedere Torso, (p. 26, fig. 23),
appears to be based on a different antique sculpture, which seems to be the
subject of a drawing of seven male torsos in various positions in a sketchbook
by an unidentified Northern artist working in Rome in the mid- to late 16th
century (Trinity College Library, Cambridge, fig. 2).11 The torso seen in
Fialetti’s etching is comparable to the one with the upraised right arm placed
at the lower centre of the Trinity page;12 it was evidently a favourite of
Fialetti’s as it reappears later in his book (fig. 3). The cast of the
armless female torso on the floor on the right in the etching also derives from
an antique prototype. She is probably based on a now-lost version of Venus
Tying her Sandal, a Hellenistic type well known in the Renaissance and one that
inspired many adaptations,13 such as that in an anonymous Italian drawing in
the Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge (fig. 4). The male torso depicted in that
drawing is also very similar to that in the etching. Fialetti would have had
ample opportunity to study Antique statuary first-hand during a trip to Rome,
made before he settled in Venice, though plaster casts were an integral part of
Venetian workshop practice from the 16th century onwards.14 They were in wide
use in Tintoretto’s studio where Fialetti trained. According to his biographer,
Carlo Ridolfi, Tintoretto collected plaster casts of ancient and Renaissance
marbles avidly and at great expense: ‘Nor did he cease his continuous study of
whatever hand or torso he had collected’.15 From the chalk drawings he
produced, ‘thus did he learn the forms requisite for his art’.16 The casts
remained in the Tintoretto family workshop when Domenico (1560–1635), his son,
took it over and are Fig. 1. Portrait of Marcus Aurelius as a Boy, 161–180 ad,
marble, 74 cm (h), Capitoline Museums, Palazzo Nuovo, Albani Collection, Rome,
MC 279 Fig. 2. Anonymous artist working in Rome, Studies of Male Torsos, mid to
late 16th c., pen and brown ink, 280 × 450 mm, folio 47v from the Cambridge
Sketchbook, Trinity College Library, Cambridge, R. 17.3 recorded in his will of
1630.17 The younger Tintoretto for a period considered bequeathing to painters
his house and studio with its contents – reliefs, drawings and models – so that
an academy could be established to train future generations of Venetian
artists, although nothing came of this scheme.18 Whether the Artist’s Studio
seen here is actually Tintoretto’s or simply a generalised venue, Fialetti
asserted the centrality of drawing, especially for young artists.19 This also
recorded his own experience: when as a boy, he asked what he should do in order
to make progress, he was advised by Tintoretto that he ‘must draw and again
draw’.20 By the early 17th century, repeated and systematic study from studio
drawings, plaster casts, sculpture, as well as anatomy and the live model was
deemed essential preparation for the accurate portrayal of the human figure.21
But in order to depict the body as a whole, students first had to master its
individual parts, a tenet of Central Italian working practice that was
perpetuated throughout the 16th century by artists and writers like Giovan
Battista Armenini (1525–1609) and Federico Zuccaro (c. 1541–1609), who
instructed pupils to draw parts of the body, an ‘alphabet of drawing’.22
Similar principles were espoused by the Carracci Academy in Bologna, of which
Fialetti was no doubt aware.23 While precedents for instructional drawing books
are found in 15th-century model and pattern books containing motifs that
artists could copy into their compositions (p. 20, figs 3–4),24 Fialetti’s were
the first aimed at students and amateurs as well as art lovers and
collectors.25 They also seem to be the first of their kind to be printed in
Venice.26 Other publications modelled after them soon followed in the Veneto
and elsewhere in Italy, notably De excellentia et nobilitate delineationis
libri duo, published 126 127 by Giacomo Franco (1573–1652)
in 1611 based on designs by Palma Giovane and prints by Battista Franco (c.
1510–1561) as well as Gasparo Colombina’s Paduan publication of 1623.27 Like
Fialetti’s compendia, Giacomo Franco’s treatise featured several plates
incorporating antique motifs: busts of the Laocoön (p. 26, fig. 19), the
Emperors Vitellius (p. 40, fig. 52) and Galba were inserted among the etched
portraits on plates 18 and 20 while plates 14 and 25 showed torsos of a female
Venus Tying her Sandal type much like that seen in Fialetti’s etching.28 In the
decades that followed, the Antique would assume a greater role in drawing
manuals.29 Several published at the end of the 17th century, like Gérard
Audran’s Les Proportions du corps humain mesurées sur les plus belles figures
de l’antiquité,1683 (p. 48, figs 72–73) and Jan de Bisschop’s Icones, 1668/69
(see cat. 13) and into the 18th century, such as Giovanni Volpato and Raffaello
Morghen’s Principi del disegno, 1786 (p. 49, fig. 76), would focus on
antiquities exclusively. The influence of Fialetti’s books was far-reaching and
persisted long after his death. Plates from them were copied and adapted for
publications appearing both in Italy and elsewhere:30 for example Johannes
Gellee copied the Artist’s Studio and other etchings in his Tyrocinia artis
pictoriae caelatoriae published in Amsterdam in 1639.31 Fialetti’s vol- umes
also influenced a great many other books published in the Netherlands, paving
the way for Abraham Bloemaert’s Tekenboek of 1740 (cat. no. 11).32 Furthermore,
Fialetti’s manuals catered to a new demo- graphic – the connoisseur, gentleman
scholar and mature artist – and would inspire similar books printed in
England.33 With the growing market for Venetian art in England during the first
decades of the 17th century and accelerated interest in drawing, Fialetti’s
work was esteemed not just by Venetians but by aristocratic collectors visiting
Venice like Sir Henry Fig. 3. Odoardo Fialetti, Two Male Torsos Seen from
Behind, c. 1608, etching, 103 × 142 mm, plate 30 from Il vero modo...1608,
Katrin Bellinger collection Fig. 4. Anonymous, Roman School, Studies after
Antique Statuary (Fragments), c. 1550, pen and brown ink and brown wash, black
chalk, heightened with white on blue-green paper, 294 × 212 mm, Fitzwilliam
Museum, Cambridge, inv. 2978. © The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge Wotton
(1568–1639) and Thomas Howard, the 2nd Earl of Arundel (1585–1646), among
others, who undoubtedly admired his facile draughtsmanship.34 Interestingly,
Fialetti’s biographer, Malvasia, who praised his versatility, mentioned that as
well as giving drawing lessons to Venetians, he also instructed Alethea Talbot,
the Earl of Arundel’s wife, whose grandson owned one of Fialetti’s books.35
Through connections like these, Fialetti attracted the attention of
English-based artists and architects including Edward Norgate (c. 1580–1650),
Inigo Jones (1573–1652) and Anthony Van Dyck (1599–1641).36 Copied and
emulated, Fialetti’s plates would play a key role in the development of the
drawing book in England.37 Treatises by Norgate (1627–28, 1st ed.; 1648–49, 2nd
ed.), Isaac Fuller (1654), Alexander Brown (1660), and others helped to further
the principles set forth in Fialetti’s books, which were copied well into the
19th century.38 avl 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 For a full appraisal
of his life and work on which this biographical account is based, see Walters
2009 and Walters 2014, pp. 57–67. Walters 2009, vol. 1, pp. 6–7; Walters 2014,
p. 58. Walters 2014, p. 57. Walters 2009, vol. 1, p. vi. Beginning with
Bartsch, there has been considerable confusion over the size and content of the
two editions. See Walters 2009, vol. 1, pp. 68–70, particularly note 40 and
Walters 2014, pp. 66–67, note 23; Greist 2014, pp. 14–15. Alexandra Greist
(ibid., pp. 12–18) published a little-known instruc- tional text by Fialetti
dictating how he wished the manual to be used, printed on the versi of nine
prints bound together with early editions of both books (Rijksmuseum,
Amsterdam, C/RM0024.ASC/552*1, Shelfmark 325G6). Among the plates not included
in the present volume is the painter’s studio showing artists measuring human
proportions: Buffa 1983, p. 321, no. 211 (298). The Holy Family and Christ
Preaching. Boston, Cleveland and elsewhere 1989, p. 248; Nichols 2013b, pp.
195, 236, note 134. The standing painter in profile is believed by some
scholars to be Tintoretto (Ilchman and Saywell 2007, p. 392; Nichols 2013b, p.
236, note 134). Nichols points to the similarity with the painter as seen in
Francesco Pianta the Younger’s wood-carving, Tintoretto as ‘Painting’, in the
Scuola Grande di San Rocco, Venice (Nichols 1999, p. 238, fig. 212). His
elongated body, unlike the others in the etching, and his energetic pose and
outstretched right arm, recall Tintoretto’s studies of single figures.
Alternatively, Catherine Whistler (2015, forthcoming) has suggested that the
studio may evoke Palma Giovane ‘given that there is something of his panache in
the figure of the painter at work and in the costume of the seated artist’. She
further noted their similarities to his self-portrait in the Brera (Mason
Rinaldi 1984, pp. 92–93, 213, fig. 117). Fittschen and Zanker 1985, vol. 1, pp.
67–68, no. 61, vol. 2, pls 69, 70, 72. CensusID: 46328. Michaelis 1892, p. 99,
no. 60v; Dhanens 1963, p. 185, no. 52v, fig. 30; Fileri 1985, pp. 39–40, no.
48, repr. Given in the 19th c. to a Flemish artist working in Rome around 1583
(Michaelis 1892), more recently the sketchbook has been associated with the
sculptor, Giambologna (1529– 1608), and his Roman trip of 1550 (Dhanens 1963
and Fileri 1985). As pointed out by Eloisa Dodero (personal communication).
Künzl 1970; Bober and Rubinstein. 2010, p. 69, no. 20; CensusID: 58121. Walters
2014, p. 57. Ridolfi 1984, p. 16. Ridolfi 1914, vol. 2, p. 14; Whitaker 1997.
Ridolfi 1914, vol. 2, p. 14; Ridolfi 1984, p. 16. 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26
27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 Tozzi 1933, p. 316. Ridolfi 1914, vol. 2,
pp. 262–63. Rosand 1970; Walters 2009, vol. 1, p. 73. Because ‘drawing was what
gave to painting its grace and perfection’, Ridolfi added (Ridolfi 1914, vol.
2, p. 65; Ridolfi 1984, p. 16). Muller 1984; Bolten 1985; Walters 2009, vol. 1,
p. 73. Armenini 1587, pp. 52–59 (book 1, chap. 7); Alberti 1604, p. 5 (quoting
Federico Zuccaro); Amornpichetkul 1984; Bleeke-Byrne 1984; Roman 1984, p. 91;
Greist 2014, p. 15. Gombrich 1960, p. 161–62; Rosand 1970, pp. 7, 14–15; Bolten
1985, p. 245; Boston, Cleveland and elsewhere 1989, p. 248 (D. P. Becker);
Houston and Ithaca 2005–06, p. 95 (J. Clifford); Walters 2009, vol. 1, p. 74;
Walters 2014, pp. 62, 66, note 6. On the Carracci’s influence on model books,
see Amornpichetkul 1984, pp. 113–16. For model books, see Gombrich 1960, pp.
156–72; Rosand 1970, p. 5; Ames- Lewis 2000a, pp. 63–69; Nottingham and London
1983, pp. 94–101; Amornpichetkul 1984, p. 109. D. P. Becker, in Boston,
Cleveland and elsewhere 1989, p. 248; J. Clifford, in Houston and Ithaca
2005–06, p. 95. Catherine Whistler has argued persua- sively that the book was
aimed at a growing market of virtuosi, art lovers and collectors, who placed a
social value on the knowledge of drawings (Whistler 2015, forthcoming). Walters
2009, vol. 1, p. 69; Walters 2014, p. 62. For the growing interest in
publishing prints at this time in Venice, see Van der Sman 2000, pp. 235–47.
Rosand 1970, p. 17–19; Amornpichetkul 1984, p. 110–12; Walters 2009, vol.
1,p.74. Rosand 1970, pp. 15, 27. Amornpichetkul 1984, p. 115. Ibid., p. 112; D.
P. Becker in Boston, Cleveland and elsewhere 1989, p. 248 (D. P. Becker); Walters
2009, vol. 1, p. 75–79. Bolten 1985, pp. 132–39. Ibid., pp. 119, 131, 133–34,
141, 143, 153, 157, 188–207, 243–56; Walters 2009, vol. 1, p. 79. Whistler 2015
(forthcoming). For a fundamental discussion of Fialetti and his impact in
England, see Walters 2009, vol. 1, Chapter 5, pp. 152–197. See also Walters
2014, pp. 64–65. Malvasia 1678, vol. 2, p. 312; Greist 2014, p. 12. Walters
2009, vol. 1, p. 152; Walters 2014, pp. 64–65 Amornpichetkul 1984, p. 112;
Walters 2009, vol. 1, pp. 78, 152. Walters 2009, vol. 1, pp. 78, 180–97; Greist
2014, p. 14. 128 129 11. Frederick Bloemaert (Utrecht c.
1616–90 Utrecht) after Abraham Bloemaert (Gorinchem 1566–1651 Utrecht) A
Student Draughtsman, Drawing Plaster Casts 1740 Engraving and chiaroscuro
woodcut with two-tone blocks (brown and sepia), titlepage from Het Tekenboek
(‘The Drawing Book’), Amsterdam, Reinier and Josua Ottens, 1740 303 × 222 mm
(image); 378 × 286 mm (sheet) provenance: Elmar Seibel, Boston, from whom
acquired. literature: Strauss 1973, p. 348, no. 1 64, repr.; Lehmann-Haupt
1977, pp. 155–57, fig. 125; Amsterdam and Washington D.C. 1981–82, pp. 16–17;
Bolten 1985, p. 49, repr., pp. 57–67; Roethlisberger and Bok 1993, vol. 1, p.
395, vol. 2, fig. T1a; Bolten 2007, vol. 1, pp. 362, 366, under no. 1150.
exhibitions: Not previously exhibited. Katrin Bellinger collection, inv. no.
1995-071 Abraham Bloemaert, a prolific artist by whose hand over two hundred
paintings and sixteen hundred drawings are known, was born in Gorinchem in
1566.1 From the age of 15 or 16, he spent three years in Paris from 1581–83,
studying for six weeks with the otherwise unknown Jehan Bassot and then for two
and a half years with the similarly obscure ‘Maistre Herry’. His third teacher
in Paris was his fellow countryman Hieronymus Francken I (1540–1610).2 In 1611,
along with Paulus Moreelse (1571–1638) and several colleagues, Bloemaert
founded the new painters’ guild in Utrecht, the Guild of St Luke, and became
its deacon in 1618.3 Shortly after the guild’s foundation, around 1612, some
form of drawing academy must have been established in Utrecht, again with
Bloemaert’s involvement. We learn about this from a letter to the Utrecht
antiquarian Arnout van Buchell (1565–1641) and in Van ’t Light der Teken en
Schilder konst (‘About the Light of the Art of Drawing and Painting’) of
1643–44, by Crispijn de Passe the Younger (c. 1597– c. 1670).4 In the
introduction to his book De Passe recalls how he learned his art together with
the son of Paulus Moreelse ‘in a famous drawing school which was, at that time
organized by the most eminent masters’.5 The well-known print Modeltekenen
(‘Model Drawing’) from De Passe’s book is thought to repre- sent this school
(fig. 1) and it has even been suggested that one of the two tutors looking over
the students’ work is Abraham Bloemaert himself.6 We do not know how long this
‘Academy’ existed. Bloemaert had a large studio of his own with many pupils,
including his four sons and many well-known Dutch artists, such as the
Italianate painters Cornelis van Poelenburgh (1594/95–1667), Jan Both (c.
1618–52) and Jan Baptist Weenix (1621–60/61), as well as the Caravaggists
Gerrit van Honthorst (1590–1656) and Hendrick ter Brugghen (1588–1629).7 A
development can be traced in Bloemaert’s work from a robust Mannerism,
influenced by artists such as Joachim van Wtewael (c. 1566–1638), towards a
more classicist style which he presumably derived from Hendrick Goltzius
(1558–1617) and his Haarlem colleagues. Caravaggism made a brief appearance in
Bloemaert’s work during the early 1620s, when his first pupils returned from
Italy – which, inciden- tally, he never visited himself. At the end of
Bloemaert’s life his style grew smoother and more even. In teaching, Bloemaert
undoubtedly used his own drawings as examples for his many pupils to copy.8 He
found this approach so productive – and perhaps commercially attractive – that
towards the end of his life he joined forces with his son Frederick (c.
1616–90) in the publication of the Tekenboek or ‘Drawing Book’, a compilation of
specimen drawings.9 The prints in the Tekenboek, which were cut by Frederick
after drawings by his father, were published in instalments from c. 1650.10
Abraham’s reversed preparatory drawings, which he probably began around 1645
and some of which reproduce earlier work, are preserved en groupe in the
Fitzwilliam Museum in Cambridge,11 including that for Fig. 1. Crispijn de
Passe, Model Drawing, from: Van ’t Light der Teken en Schilder konst (‘About
the Light of the Art of Drawing and Painting’), 1643, engraving, 330 × 390 mm,
Rijksmuseum Research Library, Amsterdam, inv. no. 330B13 130 131
Fig. 2. Abraham Bloemaert, A Student Draughtsman, Drawing Plaster Casts, pen
and brown ink, 397 × 301, Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge, Inv. PD 166–1963.5. ©
The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge the title page displayed here (fig. 2).12 The
title page of Bloemaert’s Tekenboek, catalogued here in the most popular
18th-century edition (1740), shows an artist seated on the floor of an
imaginary studio, drawing 13 artist has again created the suggestion of antique
pieces. Images of artists drawing in a studio combined with assem- blages of
plaster casts are highly appropriate subjects for drawing books. In earlier
Italian and Netherlandish examples we encounter similar images, such as
Modeltekenen (‘Model Drawing’) by De Passe from 1643 (fig. 1), by Petrus Feddes
(1586–c. 1634) from around 1615, and especially by Odoardo Fialetti (1573–c.
1638), in his highly influential Il vero modo et ordine per dissegnar tutte le
parte et membra del corpo humano (‘The true means and method to draw all the
parts of the human body’) and Tutte le parti del corpo humano diviso in piu
pezzi . . . (‘all the parts of the human body divided into multiple pieces’) of
c. 1608 (also featured here as cat. 10).18 For apprentices the copying of
two-dimensional works, such as prints and drawings – and also paintings – was
followed by drawing from plaster casts, a crucial activity in the work- shop
practice. Ideal examples were employed to prepare the student for drawing from
life, from the real world and especially from clothed and nude models.14 Such
plaster casts invariably included copies of well-known classical statues, plus
copies of more modern works and casts of limbs and body parts taken from live
models, such as those seen here hanging on the wall behind the draughtsman. In
this image the casts do not include any firmly identifiable antique statues,
although a number are clearly intended to suggest them, such as the female head
at lower right with the short, rounded hairstyle and the male torso beside it,
which resembles the Belvedere Torso (p. 26, fig. 23); the pose of the reclining
man is reminiscent of an antique River God. In this image Bloemaert made clear
his allegiance to classical tradition, and the importance of antique works as
the Bloemaert’s Tekenboek, which only contains specimens Fig. 3. Frederick
Bloemaert after Abraham Bloemaert, A Draughtsman Sitting at a Table, Drawing
after Plaster Casts, engraving, 280 × 165 mm, Katrin Bellinger collection,
London from the plaster figure of an elderly, reclining man. foundation for the
learning of art.15 Midway through the Tekenboek, Bloemaert reiterates this 132
133 sentiment regarding the importance of antique works by incorporating a
similar title page, A Draughtsman Sitting at a Table, Drawing after Plaster
Casts (fig. 3), in the section on ‘Mannelijke en Vrouwelijke Academie Figuren’
(‘Male and Female Academy Figures’).16 This features the same or a similar
draughtsman, now seated at a table in a more realistic setting and drawing from
a plaster model of a nude male torso. Around him lie other casts: a male head,
a foot and a further torso seen from the back. As in the first title page, no
recognisable antique sculptures can be seen, although the 17 of heads, faces,
body parts and figures, is a product of direct studio practice. It is thus
different in approach from the other important mid-17th century Netherlandish
drawing book, mentioned above, Van ’t Light der Teken en Schilder konst (‘About
the Light of the Art of Drawing and Painting’; 1643), by De Passe the Younger.
De Passe primarily focuses on the structure, proportion and anatomy of the
human body;19 examples of models and ways to learn to draw them are of
secondary importance. Bloemaert’s Tekenboek is actually closer in character in
its approach and images to the two volumes of etchings produced by Fialetti,
which were probably known to the Bloemaerts in one of the Dutch editions.20 The
Bloemaerts’ publication might well be described as the Northern counterpart to
Fialetti’s books.21 And as in those the emphasis in the Tekenboek is on
providing many practical examples of heads, faces and limbs to draw. Like
Fialetti’s works it may be regarded as a portable instruction manual for
drawing. Bloemaert’s Tekenboek was exceptionally popular from the time of its
publication around 1650 to the end of the 18th century.22 Many editions
followed the first (very rare) editio princeps, which probably contained 100
plates arranged in five parts.23 After his father’s death in 1651, Frederick
must have published one or more sub-editions with 120 plates in six parts and
around 1685 Nicolaes II Visscher (1649–1702) another with 160 plates. Several
decades later, in 1723, an edition by Louis Renard (dates unknown) appeared (of
which only one copy is known), with 166 plates in eight parts arranged by
Bernard Picart (1673–1733).24 The same arrangement was retained in the
best-known edition of Bloemaert’s work, published by Reinier and Josua Ottens,
the magnificent 1740 volume displayed here. At that time the title was changed
to Oorspronkelyk en vermaard konstryk tekenboek van Abraham Bloemaert
(‘Original and famous artful drawing book of Abraham Bloemaert’). Bloemaert’s
popula- rity was certainly not restricted to the Dutch Republic: artists such
as François Boucher (1703–70) and Balthasar Denner (1685–1749) also took the
Utrecht master as a model for their own work.Teekenschool/die op dien tijt van
de voornaamste meesters wiert gehouden heb gedaan’. Schatborn suggests that
this drawing school might have been in France where Van de Passe spent a long
period, 1617–30 (see Amsterdam and Washington D.C. 1981–82, p. 21). Veldman
emphasises that De Passe’s book is a tribute to the city of Utrecht, thanking
the city for spiritual nourishment including the Utrecht Drawing School
(Veldman 2001, pp. 337–38). Suggestion by Bok in Roethlisberger and Bok 1993,
vol. 1, p. 571. Roethlisberger and Bok 1993, vol. 1, pp. 645–51. Such a group
of drawings (mixed with prints) occurs for example in the estate of the painter
Gaspar Netscher (1639–84): ‘In the brown portfolio [ ] are 327 both prints and
drawings [ ] serving for disciples to copy’; see Amsterdam and Washington D. C.
1981–82, p. 17; Plomp 2001, p. 37. For artists’ practical education in the
Netherlands and Italy in the 16th and 17th centuries see Bleeke-Byrne 1984, pp.
28–39. Bloemaert’s Tekenboek was published with the Latin title: Artis Apellae,
liber hic, studiosa juventus, / Aptata ingenio fert rudimenta tuo ... (This
book, studious youths, brings to your minds the appropriate rudiments of the
art of Apelles ...); see Bolten 1985, p. 51; Roethlisberger and Bok 1993, vol.
1, p. 395 [translation]). It is possible that Abraham Bloemaert conceived the
idea of producing such a Tekenboek much earlier in his career: the Giroux
album, containing many figure studies, may well constitute Bloemaert’s initial
selection for such a didactic project; see Bolten 1993, p. 9, note 6; Bolten
2007, vol. 1, pp. 350–61. For the publication in instalments see: Bolten 2007,
vol. 1, p. 362. Bolten 1985, p. 66; Bolten 2007, vol. 1, pp. 362–97, nos.
1150–1311. For doubts regarding Bloemaert’s authorship of the drawings in
Cambridge see Bolten 1985, p. 48 (‘A. or F. Bloemaert’); Roethlisberger 1992,
p. 30, note 41; Roethlisberger and Bok 1993, vol. 1, p. 391; Bolten 1993, pp.
6–8. Bolten 2007, vol. 1, p. 363, no. 1150, vol. 2, fig. 1150. The scene was
engraved, then supplemented with a chiaroscuro woodcut with two-tone blocks
(brown and sepia). This technique and the dimen- sions (303 × 222 mm [image])
are the same in the editio princeps from c. 1650 and the 1740 edition displayed
here (see Roethlisberger and Bok 1993, vol. 1, p. 395). See Aymonino’s essay in
the present volume, pp. 15–77. According to Roethlisberger and Bok (1993, vol.
1, p. 395), there is little or no discernible influence of ancient sculpture in
his own work. The engraving, A Draughtsman Sitting at a Table, Drawing after
Plaster Casts (fig. 3), does not appear in the editio princeps from circa 1650,
but does feature in the 1685 edition and later ones (Bolten 2007, vol. 1, p.
392, under no. 1290). The original drawing for this engraving is also in the
Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge: Bolten 2007, vol. 1, p. 392, no. 1290, vol. 2,
fig. 1290. For Feddes, see Bolten 1985, p. 18, repr.; Roethlisberger and Bok
1993, vol. 1, p. 395. For De Passe’s Tekenboek see: Amsterdam and Washington
D.C. 1981–82, pp. 15–17, 21, repr. For Dutch editions of Fialetti and for Dutch
publications based or partially reprinting Fialetti see Bolten 1985, pp. 119,
131, 133–34, 141, 143, 153, 157, 188–207, 243–56. According to Strauss (1973,
p. 348) Bloemaert’s title page was ‘patterned partly on the frontispiece of
Odoardo Fialetti’s Vero modo et ordine per dessignar Tutte le parti et membra
del corpo humano, Venice (Sadeler), 1608’. See also Lehmann-Haupt 1977, p. 157.
For Bloemaert’s fortuna critica see: Roethlisberger and Bok 1993, vol. 1, pp.
47–50. Regarding the Tekenboek Roethlisberger surmises that the 1740 edition was
intended for print and book collectors, rather than artists: ibid., vol. 1, p.
394. For the various reprints of Bloemaert’s Tekenboek cited in this paragraph
see Bolten 2007, vol. 1, p. 362. There were also various editions of sets of
prints copied after Frederick’s engravings [consequently printed in reverse]
during the second half of the 17th century and in the 18th century (see ibid.,
p. 362, note 22). The only known copy of the 1723 edition is in the Centraal
Museum in Utrecht (see Bolten 2007, vol. 1, p. 362). Slatkin, 1976; Gerson
1983, pp. 109–10 (Boucher and Fragonard), p. 189 (Piazzetta). 1 2 3 4 5
mp For Bloemaert’s life on which this biographical account is based, see
Roethlisberger and Bok, 1993, vol. 1, pp. 551–87; Bolten 2007, vol. 1, pp. 3–5.
For ‘new’ Bloemaert paintings, see Roethlisberger, 2014, pp. 79–92. Van Mander
1994–99, vol. 1, pp. 448–49 (fol. 297v). Roethlisberger and Bok 1993, vol. 1,
p. 570. Ibid., vol. 1, p. 571. Verbeek and Veldman 1974, p. 146, no. 191; De
Passe 1643–44, unpaginated introduction, Aen de Teekunst-lievende en-gunstige
lezers, to the first part, met de zoon van Paulus Moreelse en anderen) in een
vermaarde 12. Michael Sweerts (Brussels 1618–1664 Goa, India) A Painter’s
Studio c. 1648–50 Oil on canvas, 71 × 74 cm provenance: Private collection,
Moscow; acquired by Dr Abraham Bredius (1855–1946); purchased by the
Rijksmuseum in 1901 for f. 400. selected literature: Martin 1905, pp. 127, 131,
pl. II [a]; Martin 1907, pp. 139, 149, no. 10; Horster 1974, pp. 145, 147, fig.
2; Van Thiel 1976, p. 532, A 1957, repr.; Döring 1994, pp. 55–58, fig. 2,
60–62; Kultzen 1996, pp. 88–89, no. 6, repr., with previous bibliography.
exhibitions: Milan 1951, no. 166, pl. 117; London 1955, pp. 90–92, no. 77 (D.
Sutton), not repr.; Rome 1958–59, pp. 32–34, no. 4 (R. Kultzen); Rotterdam
1958, pp. 36–37, no. 4; Toyko 1968–69, no. 63; Cologne and Utrecht 1991–92, pp.
270–72, no. 33.1 (R. Kultzen); Hannover 1999, pp. 18–20, fig. 9; Amsterdam, San
Francisco and elsewhere 2002, pp. 97–99, no. VII (G. Jansen); Antwerp 2004–07
(no catalogue); Brussels 2007–08 (no catalogue); Doha 2011 (no
catalogue). Amsterdam, Rijksmuseum, SK-A-1957 We have entered the shadowy
inner sanctum of a painter’s studio in mid-17th-century Rome. A young
draughtsman perched on a wooden stool to the left studies a life-size model of
a flayed nude écorché, assuming a balletic pose at centre right. Behind it,
another boy draughtsman, younger still, sketches a classical female bust
resting on a table, which is shared on the right by the studio assistant who
grinds red-hued pigments. Working at an easel in the left back- ground is a
painter, perhaps the master of the studio, capturing the likeness of a male
nude posed in the corner. Partly obscured in the shadows on the far left are
two gentle- men visitors in Dutch dress. One glances in our direction while the
other gestures to our right, perhaps towards the painter or the écorché. The
main attraction, however, is the abundant array of plaster casts, mostly
antique, piled up in the foreground – heads, torsos, limbs and a relief – all
bathed in warm, golden light. Though widely admired in his lifetime, Sweerts
remains a somewhat enigmatic figure about whom relatively little is known.1 He
was born in Brussels in 1618, but is first docu- mented from 1646 to 1651 as
residing on the Via Margutta in the parish of S. Maria del Popolo in Rome, an
area favoured by Dutch and Flemish expatriates.2 Already twenty-eight when he
arrived in the city, he would have had at least some artistic training before
then, probably in the North, though his early teachers have not been
identified. Neither signed nor dated, this canvas was probably executed by
Sweerts c. 1648–50 in Rome, where he remained until 1652 or later.3 In
travelling south, Sweerts was following a long-standing educational tradition,
one succinctly articulated by Dutch painter and art theorist Karel van Mander
(1548–1606) who stated: ‘Rome is the city where before all other places the
Painter’s journey is apt to lead him, since it is the capital of Pictura’s
Schools’.4 It is evident from the Painter’s Studio and other depictions of the
same or similar theme of the artist at work, a subject that clearly fascinated
him, that Sweerts was well aware of artistic theory of the day, particularly
the importance placed on learning through drawing.5 Karel van Mander recom-
mends beginning artists to ‘seek a good master’, one who has decent works of
art in his workshop, that is, an ample supply of study materials such as books,
prints, drawings and plaster casts. The pupil must learn to draw ‘first with
charcoal, then with the chalk or pen’.6 After making copies of prints and
drawings by various masters, the student should progress to plaster casts, an
important step. On equal footing with the copying of casts was the study of
anatomy. However, given the difficulty of procuring corpses, artists at this
time copied anatomical figures in plaster or ‘flayed plaster casts’.7 This was
followed by study of the living figure before the student finally proceeded to
painting. Written at the beginning of the 17th century, Van Mander’s book thus
made available for Northern artists those principles of artistic education, the
‘alphabet of drawing’ that had been codified in Italy during the 15th and 16th
centuries.8 By clearly setting out the stages of study established by Van
Mander and others, first drawing from casts and anatomical figures in plaster,
then the live model, Sweerts’ composition is a visual lesson in the main
principles of studio practice required to become a successful painter.9 The
goal is manifested in Sweerts’ completed Wrestling Match canvas of c. 1648–50
displayed on the wall in the back- ground, which features figures based on
classical models.10 His didactic intent to illustrate the step-by-step approach
to learning recalls Odoardo Fialetti’s Artist’s Studio, c. 1608, from Il vero
modo, the instructional manual on drawing published in Venice about forty years
earlier (cat. 10), no doubt known to Sweerts through one of the Dutch publica-
tions that reproduced plates from it.11 Plaster casts and models were in
constant use in Northern workshops from the late 16th century onwards.12 Though
he never travelled to Italy, Van Mander’s friend, Cornelis Cornelisz. van
Haarlem (1562–1638), had a collec- tion of ninety-nine casts after antique and
anatomical 134 135 models.13 Van Mander praised his colleague (with whom
he started, along with Hendrick Goltzius, an informal academy in Haarlem in
1583) for selecting for his work ‘from the best and most beautiful living and
breathing antique sculptures’.1 4 Sumptuously displayed in a large pile in the
foreground, a veritable feast for the eyes, casts play a starring role in
Sweerts’ painting (detail, fig. 1). While light enters both from the window and
the open door, which reveals an urban view, that light that illuminates the
sculptures so brilliantly and mysteriously emanates from an unseen source, over
the viewer’s shoulder. The casts are presented with clarity and in sharp focus,
in marked contrast to the more generalised treatment of most of the other
elements in the composi- tion.15 While the human expressions seem almost blank,
those of the casts are animated and alive: the comment often made about
Sweerts, that ‘his people often look like sculptures and his plaster casts seem
almost human’, rings very true here.16 Several sources for the antique casts
can be identified, beginning with the head of a woman on the table, the subject
of study for the young boy sketching in the middle distance. As noted previously,17
she is a much reduced copy of the colossal so-called Juno Ludovisi (considered
now to be a portrait of Antonia Augusta, daughter of Octavia Minor and Mark
Antony), which, from 1622, was in the Ludovisi collection in Rome and is now in
the Palazzo Altemps in Rome.18 The most prominent among the jumble of casts in
the foreground on the right is the head of a woman, usually identified as Niobe
from the famous group in the Uffizi (fig. 2, see also p. 30, fig. 34), but
equally, the head could be that of one of her daughters from the same group.19
They were discovered together with the Wrestlers (p. 30, fig. 33) on a vineyard
outside Rome.20 Immediately to the left of the Niobe, is a cast of a limbless
Apollo based on a model by François Duquesnoy (1597–1643).21 The head of an old
woman in profile at the back of the pile to the left is inspired by the Roman
copy of a Hellenistic original donated in 1566 by Pius V to the Con-servatori
Palace and today in the Capitoline Museum (fig. 3).22 She contrasts with the youthful
beauty to her right, the head of the celebrated Venus de’ Medici (Florence,
Uffizi, see p. 42, fig. 56). Behind the old woman is a head of the Laocoön,
‘bronzed’ in effect, while the rest of his body, seen from behind, rests on the
top of the pile of casts (p. 26, fig. 19).23 The relief propped up against the
table at the back is a cast of a Roman terracotta plaque, Winter and Hercules,
from the Campana collection and acquired by the Louvre in 1861 Fig. 2. Niobe,
from the Niobe Group, possibly a Roman copy of a Greek original of the 4th
century bc, marble, 228 cm (h), Uizi, Florence, inv. 294 Fig. 3. Statue of an
Old Woman, Roman copy of a Hellenistic original, marble, 145 cm (h), Capitoline
Museums, Rome, inv. Scu 640 Fig. 1. Michael Sweerts, A
Painter’s Studio (detail) 136 (fig. 4).24 It was admired by artists like
Giovanni da Udine (1487–1564) in the 16th century when it was recorded in the
collection of Gabriele de’ Rossi (1517),25 and into the 17th by others such as
Pietro da Cortona (1596–1669) and Pietro Testa (1612–50), whose copies after it
are preserved respec- tively in the Uffizi, Florence, and in the Royal
Collection at Windsor Castle.26 That this collection of casts was an important
part of Sweerts’ working practice is suggested by their regular appearance in
other compositions. Some familiar faces – the head of the old woman, the Juno
Ludovisi, the Niobe and others – return in Sweerts’ later Artist’s Studio,
signed and dated 1652, in the Detroit Institute of Arts (fig. 5). They are seen
among examples, including a cupid and torso by François Duquesnoy; this is
being scrutinised by an elegant young man, probably in Rome on the Grand Tour,
while the painter appears to be explaining how Duquesnoy’s Fig. 4. Winter and
Hercules, Roman, 1st century ad, terracotta, 60 × 52 cm, Louvre, Paris, inv. Cp
4169 figures once formed part of a group.27 Closer to the present composition
in conception, is the Artist’s Studio with a Woman Sewing in the Collection Rau
Foundation UNICEF, Cologne (fig. 6).28 Though almost certainly a workshop
picture, it evidently documents Sweerts’ original design and intention. There
is a similar haphazard arrangement of casts, with many of the same specimens
reappearing, including the bronzed head of Laocoön and his torso, placed beside
modern works, including the copy after a marble relief of François Duquesnoy,
Children Playing with a Goat.29 Many other celebrated compositions by Sweerts
feature antique casts (see p. 40, fig. 52). It is not known why he chose to
display them with such prominence and so frequently, but he may well have been
catering to a new class of patron, the Dutch Grand Tourist.30 Among Sweerts’
most important benefactors in Rome in the 1640s were Dutch tourists, especially
merchants.31 Thus three of five brothers from the Deutz textile merchant family
were in Italy between 1646 and 1650, and that is when they probably acquired
the many paintings by Sweerts listed in their inventories, including an
Artist’s Studio owned by Joseph Deutz.32 Significantly, the documents also
suggest that Sweerts acted as the Deutz’s agent for purchasing antique
sculpture as well as modern pictures, as so many other painters were to do in
the next century.33 Another important patron in Rome, Prince Camillo Pamphilj,
the nephew of Pope Innocent X (r. 1644–55), may have involved Sweerts in
teaching. He painted a range of works for the Prince, who, interestingly,
possessed a version in porphyry of the ever-present Head of the Old Woman; he
137 also owned the Duquesnoy relief that occurs in Sweerts’
Artist’s Studio now in Cologne (fig. 6).34 An intriguing pay- ment recorded in
the Pamphilj account book to Sweerts on 21 March of 1652 for ‘various amounts
of oil used since 17th February in His Excellency’s academy’, suggests Sweerts’
direct involvement with an academy in Rome.35 By the summer of 1655, Sweerts
had returned to Brussels where he founded ‘an academy of life drawing’,
primarily to educate tapestry and carpet designers.36 Something of its original
appearance might be gleaned from Sweerts’ Drawing School in the Frans Hals
Museum in Haarlem (c. 1655–60), where students of various ages draw from a live
male nude.37 In this painting, conspicuously absent are plaster casts; the
animation is now provided by the more than twenty young students assuming
various attitudes, some concentrating on the task at hand, others less focused.
However, there was probably another version by Sweerts of this painting, now
known only in a copy, where the live nude has been substi- tuted by a cast of a
classical female sculpture.38 Evidently plaster models were never far from his
mind. aa & avl 1 For his life and work, see Kultzen 1996 and Amsterdam, San
Francisco and elsewhere 2002, with previous literature. 2 Sutton 2002, p. 12;
Bikker 2002, pp. 25–26. 3 Sutton 2002, p. 21. 4 In his ‘Foundation of the
Painter’s Art’ (Grondt der Schilder-Const), published together with his ‘Lives’
and his two other theoretical treatises in the Schilder-Boeck (1604). See Van
Mander 1604, fol. 6v, chap. 1, no. 66; Van Mander 1973, vol. 1, pp. 92–93,
chap. 1, no. 66; Stechow 1966, pp. 57–58. Van Mander further noted, ‘From Rome
bring home skill in drawing, the ability to paint from Venice, which I had to
bypass for the lack of time.’: Stechow 1966, p. 58; Sutton 2002, pp. 12–13. 5 6
7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 Sutton 2002, pp. 11, 17. In
the preface to his book on painters: Van Mander 1604, fol. 9r, chap. 2, no. 9;
Van Mander 1973, pp. 102–03, chap. 2, no. 9; Martin 1905, p. 126. Martin 1905, p.
127. See Aymonino’s essay in this catalogue, pp. 33–34. Martin 1905, p. 127.
Staatliche Kunsthalle Karlsruhe; Amsterdam, San Francisco and elsewhere 2002,
pp. 94–96, no. VI (G. Jansen). For example, Johannes Gellee’s Tyrocinia artis
pictoriae caelatoriae published in Amsterdam in 1639 where copied versions of
the Artist’s Studio and other etchings appear: see Bolten 1985, pp. 132–39 and
for other publications based or reprinting parts of Fialetti’s treatise see
Bolten 1985, pp. 119, 131, 133–34, 141, 143, 153, 157, 188–207, 243–56. For the
use of plaster casts in 17th- and 18th-century artists’ studios in Antwerp and
Brussels, see Lock 2010. Rembrandt’s bankruptcy inventory of 1656 lists
numerous plaster casts, from life as well as from the Antique, which were
doubtless an essential part of his workshop practice (Strauss and Van der
Meulen 1979, pp. 349–88; Gyllenhaal 2008). See also cat. 23, note 18. Van Thiel
1965, pp. 123, 128; Van Thiel 1999, p. 84, and Appendix II, pp. 254–55, 257,
270–71, 273; Sutton 2002, p. 18. Van Mander 1604, fol. 292v; Van Mander 1973,
pp. 428–29. Sutton 2002, p. 18. This also may be due, in part, to the
compromised condition of the canvas. Sutton 2002, p. 20. Martin 1905, p. 127;
Horster 1974, p. 145. Haskell and Penny 1981, p. 100; Palma and de Lachenal
1983, pp. 133–37, no. 58 (de Lachenal). Horster 1974, pp. 145; Döring 1994, p.
60; Amsterdam, San Francisco and elsewhere 2002, p. 97. For the group, see
Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 274–79, no. 66, figs 143–47, and for the daughter that
it resembles the most, fig. 145; Cecchi and Gasparri 2009, pp. 318–19, no.
596.1. Haskell and Penny 1981, p. 274; Cecchi and Gasparri 2009, pp. 62–63, no.
50. Noted by Döring 1994, pp. 60–61. For the Duquesnoy sculpture, see
Amsterdam, San Francisco and elsewhere 2002, p. 122, no. XV-2. On Duquesnoy’s
fame as a ‘classical’ sculptor during the 17th century and later see
Boudon-Mauchel 2005, pp. 175–210. As first observed by Döring 1994, p. 62. For
the statue see Stuart Jones 1912, pp. 288–89, no. 22. Döring 1994, p. 63. The
subject was noted by Denys Sutton (London 1955, p. 91) and Marita 138 139 Fig.
5, Michael Sweerts, An Artist’s Studio, 1652, oil on canvas, 73.5 × 58.8 cm,
The Detroit Institute of Arts, inv. 30.297 Fig. 6, After Michael Sweerts, Artist’s
Studio with a Woman Sewing, c. 1650, oil on canvas, 82.5 × 106.7 cm, Collection
RAU-Fondation UNICEF, Cologne, inv. GR 1.874 25 26 27 28 29 Horster (1974, p.
145) who both identified the motif from a sketchbook by Francisco de Hollanda.
Sutton and Guido Jansen (Amsterdam, San Francisco and elsewhere 2002, p. 97)
believed the plaster relief to combine scenes from two separate ones: the
Winter and Hercules and the Cretan Bull. However, as Eloisa Dodero has noted
(personal communication), it is based on the single terracotta relief in the
Louvre, see Christian 2002, pp. 181–84 no. II.15, fig. 25; De Romanis 2007, pp.
235–238, fig. 1. For the acquisition by the Louvre, see Sarti 2001, p. 121.
Dacos 1986, p. 222; Christian 2002, pp. 181–86. For the Cortona drawing:
Briganti 1982, fig. 286.27; for the Testa sheet at Windsor: Christian 2002, pp.
181–82, fig. 26. See Amsterdam, San Francisco and elsewhere 2002, pp. 120–23,
no. XV, where the painting is discussed at length. Amsterdam, San Francisco and
elsewhere 2002, p. 110, fig. xii–i (as by or after Sweerts). Many copies are
known suggesting it was a much-admired composition. Bikker 2002, p. 29, fig.
27. 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 Ibid., p. 27. Ibid., p. 27. Sutton 2002, pp.
15–16; Bikker 2002, pp. 27–28. Described in documents in general terms as ‘Ein
Schildersacademetje’, it is not known which of the surviving studio pictures it
was. According to the collections database, Detroit Institute of Arts website,
it was theirs (fig. 5). Bikker 2002, pp. 27–28. Ibid., pp. 28–31, figs 25, 27.
Ibid., p. 29. This was probably a private academy and not the Accademia di San
Luca, of which Sweerts was possibly a member. He was responsible for collecting
membership dues from his compatriots: see Bikker 2002, pp. 25–26. Lock 2010, p.
251; Bikker 2002, p. 31. Amsterdam, San Francisco and elsewhere 2002, pp.
133–35, no. xix (G. Jansen). Present whereabouts unknown; see Amsterdam, San
Francisco and elsewhere 2002, p. 133, fig. xix–i. 13. Jan de Bisschop
(Amsterdam 1628–1671 The Hague) Two Artists Drawing an Antique Bust (recto); A
Reclining Man seen from Behind (verso) c. 1660s Pen and brown ink, brushed with
brown wash, 91 × 135 mm Inscribed recto l.r. in pencil: J. Bisschop. watermark:
part of the crowned coat of arms of Amsterdam.1 provenance: Private collection,
Germany; Sotheby’s, London, 13 April 1992, lot 260, from whom acquired.
literature: London 1992 (unpaginated), repr.; Broos and Schapelhouman 1993, p.
51, under no. 34, fig. b. exhibitions: Not previously exhibited. Katrin
Bellinger collection, inv. no. 1992-012 Born in Amsterdam in 1628, Jan de
Bisschop was among a group of talented amateur artists, including his immediate
contemporaries and friends Constantijn Huygens the Younger (1628–1697) and
Jacob van der Ulft (1627–1689) who all worked in Netherlands around the
mid-17th century.2 De Bisschop was classically educated and trained as a
lawyer; he became an advocate at the judicial court of The Hague. But he also
distinguished himself as a writer, theoretician, literary scholar, and as a
connoisseur of the Antique. And although without formal artistic training, he
was an accomplished draughtsman and etcher who, through his publications
reproducing ancient sculpture and Old Master drawings, disseminated in the
Netherlands an anti- quarian culture and an aesthetic based on the works of
classical antiquity. He also helped introduce the practice of drawing after
both antique sculpture and live models in the Hague.3 His large corpus of
drawings, numbering in the upper hundreds, consists of sun-infused, Italianate
land- scapes, lively figure and genre studies, portraits, and many copies after
antique sculpture and paintings by Old Masters, Fig. 1. Bust of the so-called
Lysimachus, Roman copy of the Augustan period from a Greek original of the 2nd
c. bc, marble, 49 cm (h), Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Napoli, inv. 6141
usually executed in pen and brush and wash with a distinc- tive warm,
golden-brown ink, referred to from the late 17th century as bisschops-inkt
(Bisschop’s ink).4 As in the examples illustrated here, he often effectively
combined dense washes with reserves of untouched paper to create a
light-drenched, fresh out-of-doors effect. In this lively and rapid sketch,
probably made on the spot, two seated draughtsmen, seen from the back, draw
after an antique bust of a man. On the reverse one of them is sketched again,
casually reclining. The object of their gaze is a bust nowadays identified as
of Lysimachus, the Greek successor to Alexander the Great, who from c. 306 to
281 bc reigned as King of Thrace, Asia Minor and Macedonia.5 Discovered c.
1576, it was acquired by Cardinal Odoardo Farnese from the Giorgio Cesarini
collection, and is preserved today in the Museo Archeologico Nazionale di
Napoli (fig. 1). Doubt- less known to de Bisschop through one of the plaster
casts which circulated in Northern Europe at the time, the bust was in the 17th
century thought to represent a philosopher; from the 18th century he was
identified more specifically – but wrongly – as the Athenian legislator, Solon.
It was copied profusely from the 17th century onwards, and was included, for
example, in a portrait painted by Isaac Fuller (1606–72) in c. 1670 (Yale
Center for British Art, New Haven) of the architect and sculptor, Edward Pierce
(c. 1635–95), who rests one hand on the bust while gesturing to it with the
other.6 Admiration for the sculpture continued in the 18th century, in France,
where a red chalk copy of it was made by the sculptor, Edmé Bouchardon
(1698–1762) or a member of his circle,7 and particularly in England, where,
catering to a n emerging neo-classical aesthetic, a blemish-free replica of the
Lysimachus was carved in 1758 by Joseph Wilton (1722– 1803); this was acquired
by Charles Watson-Wentworth, the second Marquess of Rockingham, for his country
house in Wentworth and is now in the The J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles.8
Another copy of the bust, made by the sculptor and restorer of ancient statues,
Bartolomeo Cavaceppi (see 140 141 cat. 18), was mentioned in
a letter, dated 6 June 1775, from the dealer and agent, Thomas Jenkins, to his
client, Charles Townley, as a possible acquisition. His scheme involved fusing
Cavaceppi’s bust with the body of a statue of Achilles; mercifully, this was
abandoned when the original head of Achilles was recovered.9 Its diminutive
size and spontaneous style of execution would suggest the present sheet came
from a sketchbook, probably one like that held by the artist on the right. The
draughtsmen have not been securely identified but they are no doubt to be found
among de Bisschop’s friends and associ- ates; one may be Huygens the Younger,
with whom he made sketching excursions in and around The Hague and Leiden. In
fact, drawings by de Bisschop are often mistaken for works by Huygens, to whom
this sheet was previously assigned.10 A treatment of a similar theme, of two
draughtsmen from the front seated in a landscape but without an antique model
to study, is found in de Bisschop’s drawing in the Amsterdam Museum (fig. 2).11
Executed with the same loose pen work and spontaneous handling of the brush,
characteristic of de Bisschop after 1660, it shows one artist on the left
gazing downwards to – or reading from – a loose sheet held in both hands, while
the other appears to be sketching in a small book. A third rendering of two
artists sketching out of doors, one, with hat removed, holding a drawing board,
is among the sheets by Huygens the Younger in the Municipal Archives of The
Hague (fig. 3).12 As with the present study, the figures are seen from behind
in a sunlit setting but on a bench, near the entrance to the country house,
Zorgvliet, near The Hague, and the subject of their attention is out of view.
De Bisschop’s drawings were admired by collectors and connoisseurs from John
Barnard (1709–84) to Horace Walpole (1717–97), but his main contribution to
scholarship was the publication of two influential books. The first was the
Signorum veterum icones issued in two volumes in 1668–69; Fig. 2. Jan de
Bisschop, Two Draughtsmen Seated Outdoors, pen and brown ink with the brush and
brown wash, grey ink, 97 × 149 mm, Amsterdam Museum, inv. nr. A 18179 142 Fig.
4. Jan de Bisschop, Allegory of Sculpture, title page to the Signorum veterum
icones, part 1, Amsterdam (?), 1668, etching, 245 × 114 mm, Warburg Institute
Library, London also consulted prints by François Perrier (1590–1650), who had
published a selection of antique statuary in Paris and Rome in 1638 (Segmenta
nobilium signorum et statuarum . . .).18 An album of 140 drawings by de Bisschop
suggests that he intended to publish a third volume of Icones on antique Roman
reliefs, based largely on another publication by Perrier of 1645 (Icones et
segmenta . . .).19 However, de Bisschop’s death from tuberculosis at
forty-three meant that the third volume was never realised. In addition to his
writings on art, de Bisschop contrib- uted in other ways to furthering artistic
education in the Netherlands. He participated in local confraternities of
artists and co-founded a private drawing academy with his friends, including
Huygens the Younger; they met several times a week in the evenings, often
drawing after a live model.20 In 1682, eleven years after de Bisschop’s death,
the first drawing academy in the Northern Netherlands – includ- ing in its curriculum
the study of plaster casts after the Antique – was established in The Hague.21
De Bisschop’s influence may have extended further, perhaps as a direct
consequence of the Icones. Of significance is a letter dated 1688 from the
artist Romeyn de Hooghe (1645–1708) to the burgermasters of Haarlem, asking
their assistance in setting up an academy for students to study ‘the best
ancient statues, such as Venus, Apollo, Laocoön, in order to familiarise
themselves with the idea of classical beauty’.22 Although that request was
turned down, a Haarlem Drawing Academy was founded in 1772 and although it was
closed in 1795, in the following year, the Haarlem Drawing College was
established, with the study of the Antique remaining a vital part of the
curriculum (see cat. 31).23 Fig. 3. Constantijn Huygens, the
Younger, Two Draughtsmen near Zorgvliet, detail, pen and brown ink and
wash with the brush over traces of graphite, 243 × 373 mm, Municipal Archives
of The Hague, Gr. A 110 the first volume was dedicated to his friend, Huygens
the Younger and the second, to Johannes Wtenbogaard, the Receiver-General of
Holland and a neighbour of his parents. In 1671, de Bisschop published the
Paradigmata graphices variorum artificum, which he dedicated to the collector
Jan Six; this comprised forty-seven etchings based on Italian Old Master
drawings and ten antique busts.13 The two volumes of the Icones were
republished together with the Paradigmata, in later editions.14 Of particular
relevance to us is de Bisschop’s Icones, featuring one-hundred etched plates
after antique sculpture (fig. 4). Its purpose was didactic: to provide a
compilation of the best-known works and to establish norms of classical beauty
for artists, amateurs and collectors. In de Bisschop’s words, they were
‘sculptures and reliefs of the greatest perfection in art and the best sources
for students’.15 The book proved to be an enormously useful resource especially
as it featured, in some cases, the same sculpture seen from different angles;
in essence, in the round. For instance, de Bisschop’s presented five views of
the celebrated Wrestlers sculpture in the Uffizi (see p. 30, fig. 33, and cats
16 and 27), two of which are shown here (figs 5–6).16 In the Icones, the
unusual left profile view of the Farnese Hercules, in reverse was probably
known to Jan Claudius de Cock (1667–1735) and Wallerant Vaillant (1623–77), who
reproduced it from the same viewpoint (see cat. 14, fig. 4). In fact, Cock took
inspiration from several of the Icones plates for his Allegory of the Arts
series (cat. 14). As de Bisschop probably never travelled to Italy, many of his
prints relied on antique sculptures in Dutch collections, or on casts, and
especially on drawings by artists who had travelled south to visit collections
in Florence and Rome, such as Willelm Doudijns (1630–97), Pieter Donker (1635–
68), Adriaen Backer (1635/35–84) and others.17 De Bisschop avl 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 See Churchill 1967, pl. 8, no. 9,
date: 1665 or pl. 9, no. 11, date: 1670. For this life and work, see Van Gelder
1972. Van Gelder 1972, p. 27. Goeree 1697, p. 91. Gasparri 2009–10, vol. 2, pp.
55–57, no. 32 (F. Coraggio), and pp. 188–89, pl. XXXII, figs 1–4.
Charlton-Jones 1991, pp. 100–01, pl. 89. The subject of the Louvre drawing
(Guiffrey and Marcel 1907–75, vol. 1, no. 1353) was identified by Rausa 2007a,
p. 172, no. 165.1. Fusco 1997, p. 56. Coltman 2009, p. 87. Sold as Huygens at
Sotheby’s, London, 13 April 1992, lot 260. Broos and Schapelhouman 1993, p. 51,
no. 34 (B. Broos). Amsterdam 1992, p. 37, no. 22 (R. E. Jellema and M. Plomp).
Van Gelder 1972, pp. 1–2. Both books are published in their entirety with
commentary by Van Gelder and Jost 1985, 2 vols. See also Bolten 1985, pp.
257–58 and Plomp 2010, pp. 39–47. Bolten 1985, p. 71. Van Gelder 1972, p. 19.
Van Gelder and Jost 1985, vol. 1, pp. 106–08, nos 18–22, vol. 2, pls 18–22.
Further plates are after other artists as well as drawings by Jacob de Gheyn
III (1596–1641), who is not known to have travelled to Italy but visited
collections in England (Van Gelder and Jost 1985, vol. 1, pp. 15–16, 155). Van
Gelder 1972, pp. 19–20. The album of classical statues, reliefs, Roman
architecture and contempo- rary Dutch figures and scenes is at the Victoria and
Albert Museum, London, inv. D.1212:1 to 141-1989. On it see Van Gelder 1972,
pp. 8–9 and especially Turner and White 2014, vol. 1, pp. 25–67, no. 23. Van
Gelder 1972, p. 11. Van Gelder 1972, p. 27. Van der Willigen 1866, p. 137;
Washington D.C. 1977, under no. 69 (F. W. Robinson). Haarlem 1990, pp. 16–17,
34–38. Fig. 5. Jan de Bisschop, The Wrestlers, from the Signorum veterum
icones, part 1, Amsterdam (?), 1668, pl. 18, etching, 164 × 215 mm, Warburg
Institute Library, London Fig. 6. Jan de Bisschop, The Wrestlers, from the
Signorum veterum icones, part 1, Amsterdam (?), 1668, pl. 21, etching, 199 ×
133 mm, Warburg Institute Library, London 143 14. Attributed
to Jan Claudius de Cock (Brussels 1667–1735 Antwerp) An Allegory of Painting c.
1706 Etching, 141 × 100 mm watermark: possibly part of a coat of arms.
provenance: Bassenge, Berlin, 6 December 2001, lot 5452 (as Anonymous, Southern
German, c. 1700), from whom acquired. literature:None. exhibitions: Not
previously exhibited. Katrin Bellinger collection, inv. no. 2001-037 In
the corner of a painter’s workshop, students draw after plaster casts, selected
according to their age and level of study. The youngest, wearing a Roman-style
toga and stand- ing at a pedestal, which supports his open sketchbook, records
the likeness of the head of a boy similar to him in age. He may be copying the
bust itself, or more likely, the drawing after the bust, propped up next to it.
At the left, another pupil, a pre-teen representing a higher level of study,
thoughtfully examines a reduced model, in reverse, of a rather unfit Farnese
Hercules (see p. 30, fig. 32 and cats 7, 16, 21) elevated on a plinth, and
shown in a similar pose as illustrated by Jan de Bisschop’s Icones (fig. 1).
The student and Fig. 1. Jan de Bisschop, The Farnese Harcules, from the
Signorum veterum icones, part 1, Amsterdam (?), 1668, pl. 8, etch- ing, 221 ×
105 mm, Warburg Institute Library, London the statuette are so posed that they
appear to exchange glances. In the background, partially obscured by the sculp-
ture’s base, is a third boy, probably midway in age between the others, who
bows his head in concentration. Displayed on the shelf and walls above are
workshop props – a globe, hourglass, books, compass and additional fragments of
plaster casts, included a female torso and a male one which may be based on the
Belvedere Torso (p. 26, fig. 28). Presiding over the scene is a voluptuously
dressed female figure with an elaborate hairstyle and bared breasts, who holds
a palette with brushes in one hand, and gestures to the statue of Hercules with
the other. She is leaning on a richly carved wooden table bearing bottles of
spirit, compasses and completed figural drawings. She is an Allegory of
Painting, as described by Cesare Ripa in his Iconologia, the widely consulted
emblematic handbook first published in 1593 – and probably known to de Cock
through the Dutch editions of 1698 or 1699: a beautiful woman with twisted,
unruly hair, holding the tools of the painter.1 She represents the goal; once
pupils had completed their prescribed course of study, mastering the succession
of stages dictated by the established norms of 16th-century studio practice –
first, drawing the individual parts of the body through drawings of others,
prints, fragments and casts, and finally, the entire figure, a statue or live
model – only then, may they progress to painting (see also cat. 10).2 The
attainment of the goal is encapsulated in the prominently displayed picture on
the wall above Hercules, probably a Mars and Venus. Though acquired as by an
anonymous southern German artist, c. 1700, the etching shares similarities with
the work of the Flemish painter, sculptor, etcher and writer, Jan Claudius de
Cock.3 It is particularly close in style and execution to his drawing of the
Allegory of Sculpture drawing, signed and dated 1706 (Metropolitan Museum of
Art, New York, fig. 2), which is carried out with the same meticulous handling
and degree of finish.4 Direct references to antique sculpture abound in the New
York sheet with plaster casts freely modelled after the Pan and Apollo from the
Cesi collection (Museo Nazionale 144 145 Fig. 2. Jan Claudius de
Cock, Allegory of Sculpture, 1706, pen and brown ink, 317 × 195 mm, The
Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, 2010.533 Romano, Rome) at right and, at
the left, the Wrestlers, acquired by the Medici in 1583 (Uffizi, Florence; see
p. 30, fig. 33).5 Antique-inspired motifs – busts, putti, fragments and a
strigilated krater – are also visible throughout. As with the etching, there is
a female personification – in this case, of sculpture – her hand resting on one
bust and pointing to a second with the other, just as Painting does here in the
etching. At her feet are the tools of her trade: scalpels, mallet and a drill.
Other drawings of similar subject matter, format and date suggest de Cock
planned a series on the Allegories of the Arts, perhaps intending them to
appear as etchings in a book. His drawing of a female sculptor modelling a
recumbent Venus (fig. 3), another Allegory of Sculpture, is also signed, and
dated (1706) and is numbered like the New York drawing.6 Further studies by de
Cock no doubt relate to the same series.7 However, while the drawings are
roughly the same size, the present etching is considerably smaller. The
colossal Farnese Hercules became enormously popular immediately after its
discovery in the 16th century, and 146 Fig. 3. Jan Claudius de Cock, An
Allegory of Sculpture, 1706, pen and brown ink, black chalk, 321 × 192 mm,
Christie’s, London, 19 April 1988, lot 140 numerous copies after it were
produced, often reduced to life-size or the scale seen here, to make it more
manageable and portable.8 A model strikingly similar to that in the etching
occurs in a mezzotint of a boy drawing in a studio, c. 1660–75, by the Dutch painter
and engraver, Wallerant Vaillant (1623–77), where it is perched on a table at a
nearly identical angle (fig. 4).9 Both prints suggest that by the early 18th
century, plaster models of the Hercules were commonplace in Flemish and
Netherlandish workshops.10 Several of the antiquities in both the etching, here
attrib- uted to de Cock, and his two related drawings discussed above, argue
knowledge of Jan de Bisschop’s Icones (1668–69), by then the standard reference
for antique sculptures in the Netherlands (see cat. 13). For example, the
rather unusual left-profile view of the Farnese Hercules in the etching and the
pose of the Wrestlers in the New York drawing (fig. 2), both shown reversed in
respect to the antique originals, find their counterparts in the Icones (fig. 1
and cat. 13, fig. 5).11 And the pensive Muse, possibly Clio, at the upper right
of the Fig. 4. Wallerant Vaillant, A Boy Drawing in a Studio, c. 1660–75,
mezzotint, 324 × 300 mm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, RP-P-1889-A-14489 second
Allegory of Sculpture drawing (fig. 3), is a literal quotation from a plate in
the second volume of Bisschop’s 12 Born in Brussels, de Cock was apprenticed in
the workshop of Peeter Verbrugghen the Elder (c. 1609–86) in Antwerp. After
Verbruggen’s death, he established himself in that city, although he later
moved to Breda, where King William III Stadholder of the Netherlands
commissioned him to work on sculpture for a courtyard in the town.14 However,
by 1697 or 1698, de Cock had returned to Antwerp and devoted himself more to
teaching, establishing a large workshop with many pupils, some learning
drawing, others, goldsmithing.15 In 1720, he wrote a didactic poetical treatise
for his students, Eenighe voornaemste en noodighe regels van de beeldhouwerije
om metter tijdt en goet meester te woorden (‘Some 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13
14 15 16 17 avl For Pittura from Ripa’s first illustrated edition (1603), see
Buscaroli 1992, p. 357 and in the Dutch edition of 1698, reprinted in 1699, see
Hoorn 1698, II, p. 515 [c]. Armenini 1587, pp. 52–59 (book 1, chap. 7); Alberti
1604, p. 5 (quoting Federico Zuccaro); Roman 1984, p. 91. Nagler (1966, vol. 3,
no. 2100) and Wurzbach (1906–11, vol. 1, pp. 304–05) only briefly mention his
etchings and this subject does not occur. Acquired Christie’s, London, 7 July
2010, lot 328. It is signed at lower left: ‘Joannes Claud: de Cock invenit
delineavit Anno= MDCCVI’ and numbered below, ‘4’. A further inscription by the
artist on the verso, “Sculptura Pace, et Abondante=”/[. . .], may refer to another
drawing in the series, perhaps an Allegory of Peace and Abundance or a
Concordia. Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 286–88, no. 70; pp. 337–39, no. 94.
Christie’s, London, 19 April 1988, lot 140. According to the catalogue, it is
signed and dated, ‘Joan Claudius de Cock/invenit delineavit/AoMDCCVI’ and
numbered ‘3’ below. They include another signed Allegory of Sculpture close to
the New York drawing in composition, with differences and executed in pencil,
326 × 194 mm (Christie’s, Amsterdam, 15 November 1993, lot 115) and a signed
Allegory of Architecture, pen and brown-grey ink and wash, 328 × 234 mm
(Christie’s, Amsterdam, 21 November 1989, lot 52). Haskell and Penny 1981, p.
232; Gasparri 2009–10, vol. 3, pp. 17–20, no. 1, repr. on pp. 207–13. Hollstein
1949–2001, vol. 31, p. 119, no. 96. The 1635 studio inventory of the painter,
Hendrik van Balen (1575–1632) mentions a cast of the Hercules among other
antique works (Duverger 1984–2009, vol. 4, p. 208). The torso of a draped male
statue on the shelf at upper right in the drawing probably derives from a
further etching by Bisschop, based on copies by Willelm Doudijns (1630–97),
reproducing a marble in the Pighini collection and now in the Vatican (Van
Gelder and Jost 1985, vol. 1, pp. 110–11, no. 26, vol. 2, pl. 26; Helbig
1963–72, vol. 1, p. 194, no. 250). Van Gelder and Jost 1985, vol. 1, pp.
184–85, no. 98, vol. 2, pl. 98. In that drawing, the male torso seen from the
back on the shelf at right recalls de Bisschop’s etching of the Belvedere Torso
(Van Gelder and Jost 1985, vol. 1, pp. 108–10, no. 24, vol. 2, pl. 24). Van
Gelder and Jost 1985, vol. 1, pp. 184–85; Haynes 1975, pl. 18. De Gheyn was in
London in the summer of 1618 and his drawing (untraced), was in the collection
of J. A. Wtenbogaert in Amsterdam (Van Gelder and Jost 1985, vol. 1, pp. 16,
155, 185). For his life and work, see C. Lawrence, “Cock, Jan Claudius de”.
Grove Art Online. Oxford Art Online, accessed December 10, 2014,
http://www.oxford- artonline.com/subscriber/article/grove/art/T018366. Pauwels
1977, p. 37. Published in Brussels by Mertens 1865; Lawrence 1986, p. 283.
Mertens 1865; Lawrence 1986, p. 283. The original marble from the Earl of
Arundel’s collection, known to de Bisschop through a drawing after it by
Jacques de Gheyn III, is now in the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford.13 publication.
chief and notable rules from the sculptor in order to become a good master in
due course’) although it remained unpublished until the 19th century.16 It is
entirely possible that he intended the Allegory of Arts series to illustrate
this treatise, in which he expressed his great admiration for classical
sculpture, namely the Laocoön, the Medici Venus – and, most importantly – the
Farnese Hercules.17 147 15. Nicolas Dorigny (Paris 1658–1746
Paris), after Carlo Maratti (Camerano 1625–1713 Rome) The Academy of Drawing c.
1702–03 Etching and engraving, 470 × 321 mm (plate); 503 × 331 mm (sheet) State
I of II (second state dated 1728 with the address of Jacob Frey). Inscribed on
the plate, l.l. on the ground: ‘TANTO CHE BASTI’, same inscription repeated
l.r. on the perspective drawing on the easel, and c.l. on the pedestal of the
anatomical model. Inscribed u.c. above the statue of Apollo: ‘NON / MAI
ABASTANZA’; u.r. above the Three Graces: ‘SENZA DI NOI OGNI FATICA E VANA’.
Inscribed l.c. with the title, ‘A Giovani studiosi del Disegno’, followed by
ten lines explaining the scene: ‘La Scuola del Disegno, che s’espone delineata
con le presenti Figure dal Sig.r Cavalier Carlo Maratti, può molto contribuire
al’disinganno di coloro che credono di potere con la cognizione, e studio di
molte Arti divenir perfet.ti nell’Arte del dipingere senza procurare in primo
luogo d’esser perfettissimi nel Disegno, e senza il dono naturale, et un
particolare istinto di saper con grazia, e facilità animare, e disporre
vagamente le parti di quell’Opera, che prenderanno a delineare, e và figurando
questo suo nobil pensiero con il mezzo dell’azzioni, che qui si additano.
Vedonsi alcuni studiosi delle mathematiche in quella parte, che spetta alla
Geometria, et Ottica, che conferiscono alla Prospettiva: dall’altro lato, altri
applicati all’osservazione d’un Corpo anatomico, dà cui si apprende la giusta
proporzione delle membra, e sito de’muscoli, e nervi, che compongono una
figura, dimostrato eruditame-te dà Leonardo da Vinci espresso co- la propria
effige, con il motto . Tanto che basti . per dimostrare, che di tali
professioni basta, che quello, che attenderà al Disegno sia mediocrem.te
erudito, per ridurre ad un’perfetto fine qualunque Idea. Mà per coloro, che si
esprimono attenti allo studio delle statue antiche, non serve una leggiera
applicazione alle mede, essendo lor d’uopo di farvi sopra una lunga, et esatta
riflessione, e studio per apprendere le belle forme; e si pone l’esemplare
delle statue antiche, come le più perfette, nelle quali quei grandi Huomini
espressero ì Corpi nel più perfetto grado, che possano dalla natura istessa
crearsi, e perciò vi si pone il motto . Non mai abastanza . Tutto però
riuscirebbe vano di conseguire senza l’assistenza delle Grazie, che intende,
come accennammo, per quel natural gusto di disporre, et atteggiare con grazia,
e delicatezza le positure, et ì movimenti delle Figure, dalle quali poi risulta
quella vaghezza, e leggiadria, che destano meraviglia, e piacere in chiunque le
mira, ponendosi queste a tal oggetto in alto, e sù le nuvole per significare,
che questo dono non viene che dal Cielo, con il motto . Senza di noi ogni
fatica e vana . Vivete felici.’1 Inscribed l.l. margin: ‘Eques Carolus Maratti
inven. et delin. Cum privil Summi Pont. et Regis Christ.mi’, and l.r.: ‘N.
Dorigny sculp.’. watermark: Possibly a four-legged animal inscribed in a double
circle. provenance: Possibly Hugh Howard (1675–1737); Charles Francis Arnold
Howard, 5th Earl of Wicklow (1839–81), from whom acquired in 1874. literature:
Le Blanc 1854–88, II, p. 140, no. 51; Mariette 1996–2003, vol. 3, p. 511, no.
76, fig. 189; Kutschera-Woborsky 1919, pp. 9–28, fig. 5; Goldstein 1978, p. 1,
fig. 1; Rudolph 1978, Appendix, p. 203, n. 38; Philadelphia 1980–81, pp.
114–16, no. 101 A (A. E. Golahny); Johns 1988, pp. 17–21, fig. 5; Goldstein
1989, p.156, fig. 1; Winner 1992, fig. 1; Jaffé 1994, p. 128, under no. 251
646; Mertens 1994, pp. 222–24, fig. 94; Goldstein 1996, p. 47, fig. 14; Rome
2000b, vol. 2, pp. 483–84, no. 2 (S. Rudolph); Pierguidi 2014. exhibitions: Not
previously exhibited. The British Museum, Department of Prints and Drawings,
London, 1874,0808.1713 This intriguing and complex image has a central
role in this catalogue, as it represents the most eloquent visual expres- sion
of the classicistic credo of the Roman Accademia di San Luca in the final
decades of the 17th century. More generally, it is a strong defence of the
Florentine and Roman academic traditions, with their stress on drawing, their
celebration of Raphael and, above all, on the study, copy and reverence of the
Antique. As we shall see, the original drawing from which the print is derived
was most likely conceived in 1681–82, at a time when the aesthetic belief
supported by the Accademia di San Luca was being challenged by other
pedagogical methods and criticised from other theoretical viepoints, hence its
programmatic nature and didactic aim. Carlo Maratti was the most authoritative
painter in Rome during the final decades of the 17th century and the beginning
of the 18th and the champion of classicism.2 As a boy of twelve he had entered
the large workshop of Andrea Sacchi (1599–1661), where he remained until the
master’s death in 1661. His training followed the usual curriculum of 148 Roman
studios, centred on drawing, and on the copy of the Antique, and of Renaissance
and early 17th-century masters.3 His lifelong friend, mentor and biographer,
the great art theorist and antiquarian, Giovanni Pietro Bellori (1613–96),
tells us that he concentrated especially on copying Raphael’s frescoes.4 He
pursued this commitment throughout his life, incorporating the essential
qualities of the great Renaissance champion of classicism into his own
painting, to the point that he became known as the Raphael of his time.5 In
1664 Maratti became ‘principe’, or president, of the Accademia di San Luca,
where, in the same year, Bellori’s discourse, the ‘Idea of the painter, the
sculptor and the archi- tect, selected from the beauties of Nature, superior to
Nature’, was publicly delivered (see Appendix, no. 11).6 Bellori’s theoretical
statement, then published as a prologue to his Vite in 1672, was to become
enormously influential in defin- ing and diffusing the central tenets of the
classical ideal, preparing the ground for the eventual affirmation of classi-
cism in the 18th century.7 Maratti remained an influential 149 figure
within the Accademia for almost fifty years – while Bellori held the position
of secretary several times – playing a vital role in reorganising its
curriculum according to a comprehensive pedagogical programme, based on the
exer- cise of drawing from drawings, from casts after the Antique and from the
live model, and on students’ competitions and regular lectures.8 The print,
which embodies this theoretical and didactic approach, is based on a drawing
now preserved at Chatsworth (fig. 1), commissioned from Maratti by one of his
most faithful patrons, Gaspar Méndez de Haro y Guzmán, 7th Marquis of Carpio,
(1629–87), Spanish ambassador in Rome between 1677 and 1682.9 A sketchier
version, in the same direction as the print but with differences in detail, is
at the Wadsworth Atheneum (fig. 2).10 Art lover, collector and patron, Carpio
commissioned from contemporary Roman artists a large series of drawings with
the practice, theory, and nature of painting as their subject.11 The result was
a sophisticated collection of allegories of art, of which Maratti’s drawing is
by far the most celebrated, largely due to Dorigny’s print.12 Another drawing
with the Allegory of Ignorance Ensnaring Painting and Massacring the Fine Arts,
now in the Louvre, was probably produced by Maratti for Carpio as a pendant to
the Academy of Drawing, and as such was later engraved by Dorigny with a
similar explanatory inscription devoted to the ‘Lovers of the Fine Arts’ (fig.
3).13 Possibly intended from the beginning to be printed, Maratti’s drawing for
the Academy of Drawing was later engraved by the Parisian printmaker, Nicolas
Dorigny, Fig. 1. Carlo Maratti, The Academy of Drawing, c. 1681–82, pen and
brown ink with brown wash, heightened with white gouache, over black chalk, 402
× 310 mm, Chatsworth, The Duke of Devonshire and the Chatsworth Settlement
Trustees, inv. 646 Fig. 2. Carlo Maratti, The Academy of Drawing, c. 1681–82,
pen and brown ink and red chalk, 505 × 355 mm, Wadsworth Atheneum Museum of
Art, Hartford, CT, inv. 1967.309a who spent the years 1687–1711 in Rome. The
rare first state, exhibited here, was probably published around 1702–03 under
the supervision of Maratti, who owned the copper- plates and who, no doubt, was
the author of the explanatory inscriptions below this print and its pendant.14
The reason why it took twenty years for the original drawing and its pendant to
be engraved, may be due to the fact that Carpio left Rome in 1683 to become
Viceroy of Naples and his move might have brought the original publication
project to a halt. After Maratti’s death in 1713, the plates were purchased by
Jacob Frey (1681–1752) who published a second state in 1728.15 The image is a
very condensed and crowded composi- tion, in line with similar examples by
Stradanus (cat. 4), Pierfrancesco Alberti (cat. 2, fig. 1), and others, which
would certainly have been known to Maratti.16 The Academy of Drawing is
presented as an antique academy devoted to intellectual pursuits, clearly
reminiscent of Raphael’s School of Athens in the Vatican Stanze, and in general
subtle refer- ences to Raphael’s works are ubiquitous throughout.17 We are invited
to follow the different disciplines and principles essential for the education
of the young artists, distributed visually and symbolically in an ascent: from
the technical and mathematical rudiments for the representation of space in the
foreground, to the ideal models for the depiction of the human figure in the
upper left part of the composition, and finally to the divinely inspired grace
and artistic talent on the upper left background, without which all the
previous learning would be useless. Bellori, in his biography Fig. 3. Nicolas
Dorigny after Carlo Maratti, Allegory of Ignorance ensnaring Painting and mas-
sacring the Fine Arts, 1704–10, etching and engraving, 468 × 319 mm, The
British Museum, Department of Prints and Draw- ings, London, inv. 1874,0808.1714
that. We know from another passage in Bellori that Maratti, although he ‘always
considered [...] perspective and anat- omy necessary to the painter’, abhorred
some ‘masters, or rather modern censors who, having learned a line or two of
perspective or anatomy, the minute they look at a picture look for the
vanishing point and the muscles, and [...] scold, correct, accuse and criticise
the most eminent masters’.23 Maratti’s attitude was, in fact, very much in line
with the Italian art theory of the second half of the 16th century.24 Most
writers agreed that, although the knowledge of mathematical sciences was vital,
the artist’s judgement and his eye must be the ultimate criteria in the
artistic process. Giorgio Vasari (1511–74) clearly formulated this concept,
paraphrasing Michelangelo’s famous saying that ‘it was necessary to have the
compasses in the eyes and not in the hand, because the hands work and the eyes
judge’.25 This opinion was rephrased by Giovanni Paolo Lomazzo (1538– 1600) who
wrote precisely that ‘all the reasoning of geome- try and arithmetic, and all
the proofs of perspective were of no use to a man without the eye’, and shared
also by Federico Zuccaro (c. 1540–1609) the founder and first principal of the
reformed Accademia di San Luca in 1593 (see cat. 5).26 A similar approach was
reserved for the study of anatomy, the excess of which, as represented by
Michelangelo – who is not alluded to in the print – was explicitly condemned by
Giovan Battista Armenini (c. 1525–1609) and others, an opinion supported by
Bellori and Maratti.27 The ‘Young Students of Drawing’, to which the print is
dedicated, need instead to focus their attention on, and constantly draw from,
ancient statues, here represented by Fig. 4. Raphael, Apollo, detail, School of
Athens, 1509–11, fresco, Stanza della Segnatura, Apostolic Palace, Vatican
City of Maratti, left unfinished at his death in 1696, provides a
description of one of Maratti’s original drawings (figs 1–2) and this, plus the
explanatory inscription on the print, constitute the best guide to interpret
the composition.18 At the centre a ‘master of perspective’ indicates to a young
disciple the visual pyramid and various geometrical figures traced on a canvas
placed on an easel, at the bottom of which we read: ‘TANTO CHE BASTI’, ‘Enough
to suffice’.19 The same inscription recurs on the ground on the left, in front
of another pupil intent at drafting geometrical figures on the abacus with his
compass, a gesture evoking that of Archimedes in Raphael’s School of Athens. As
Bellori explains, this is to signify that ‘once the young have learned the
rules necessary to their studies’ – geometry and perspec- tive – ‘they should
pass on without stopping’.20 On the right, below the easel, we see a stool
supporting the physical tools of the art of painting: another compass and a
palette with various brushes. Behind them a ruler leans diagonally against the
canvas. The same warning ‘TANTO CHE BASTI’ reappears on the left on the
pedestal supporting a life-size anatomical écorché, in a pose reminiscent of
the Borghese Gladiator (see p. 41, fig. 54 and cat. 23, fig. 1). Several
students draw its muscles, directed by Leonardo, whose anatomical studies were
very well known, especially after the first publication of his treatise on
painting in 1651.21 ‘Anatomy and the drawing of lines’ continues Bellori, ‘do
indeed fall under definite rules and can be learned perfectly by anyone, just
as geometry used formerly to be learned in school from childhood’.22 They
therefore constitute those sciences that can be taught by rational precepts.
But if the young students want to become great artists they need much more
than 150 151 the gigantic Farnese Hercules (see p. 30, fig.
32 and cat. 7, fig. 1), by a Venus Pudica reminiscent of the Venus de’Medici
(see p. 42, fig. 56) and by an Apollo, the latter clearly derived from the
statue presiding over the philosophers in the School of Athens (fig. 4).28
Apollo, as patron of the arts, combining together a reference to the Antique
and to Raphael, conveniently substitutes for the Belvedere Antinous (see p. 26,
fig. 22 and cat. 19) seen on the earlier sketch (fig. 2).29 The study of
classi- cal sculptures, as the inscription on the wall behind the Apollo
instructs us, is ‘NON MAI ABASTANZA’, ‘Never enough’, as they contain ‘the
example and the perfection of painting [...] together with good imitation
selected from nature’ as Bellori tells us.30 In other words, they materialise
Bellori’s concept of the ‘Idea’, intended as the selection of the best parts of
Nature according to the right judgement of the artist in order to create ideal
beauty (see Appendix, no. 11). If a young artist assimilates their principles,
he will have a secure guide towards artistic perfection. On the left, sitting
on clouds, the Three Graces – again referring to the similar figures painted by
Raphael in the Villa Farnesina in Rome – are there to remind us: ‘SENZA DI NOI
OGNI FATICA E VANA’, ‘Without us, all labour is in vain’. Without natural
talent and divine inspiration, all the efforts and studies depicted below would
be ultimately useless. The concept of grace was one of the crucial features in
Vasari’s theory of art, intended as a certain sweetness and facility of
execution, dependent on natural talents – namely judgement and the eye – as
opposed to beauty which is based on the rules of proportions and mathematics.31
But the great artist must cultivate this natural gift through constant study
and, for Bellori, constant imitation of the Antique and of the great masters,
especially Raphael, the excellence and grace of whom he exalted in several of
his publications.32 Therefore our print reminds us in its subject of the
necessary union of natural talent and study. At the same time it provides in
its very forms an ideal example of inventive imitation, namely Maratti’s
assimilation of the Antique and Raphael. The need to insist on these very
points reflects the particular moment in which our image was created. In 1676
the Accademia di San Luca and the Parisian Académie Royale were formally
amalgamated and at times French painters became principals of San Luca –
Charles Errard (1606/09– 89) in 1672 and 1678, and Charles Le Brun (1619–90) in
1676–77.33 While sharing the same values and attitudes, the Italian could never
feel comfortable with the extreme ration- alisation of art characteristic of so
much French theory and academic approach.34 The methodical and precise
dissection of painting into its main components, as expressed for instance in
the Académie’s Conférences, is in fact probably 152 alluded to in the speaker
seen below the Graces in our image, who uses his fingers to enumerate the main
points of his arguments – referring to Socrates in the School of Athens. The
early Académie’s Conférences were published by André Félibien (1619–95) in
1668, and their official presentation at San Luca in 1681 generated a
discussion that was most likely at the origin of Maratti’s Academy of Drawing,
as reported by Melchior Missirini (1773–1849) in his history of the Accademia
di San Luca.35 After the reading of the last two Conférences, devoted to the
analysis of the drawing, colour, composition, proportions and expressions of
Poussin’s paintings, one of San Luca’s members, Giovanni Maria Morandi
(1622–1717), raised the objection that the French had left out art’s most
important and beautiful element: grace, that sublime and delicate quality of
the ‘imitative practice’, which appeals to the heart rather than the mind.36
The elderly Bellori, present in the audience, interrupted the speech remarking
that grace was indeed Apelle’s and Raphael’s best quality, ‘and it is well
known’, continues Missirini, ‘that Maratti, who also devoted every effort to
obtain this quality, induced by these words painted his three graces with the
motto ‘Without you, everything is worthless’.37 No doubt conceived as a
response to this intellectual debate, as a defence of the Florentine and Roman
attitude and tradition versus its French counterpart, Maratti’s Accademia must
be understood also as a celebration of classicism against those painters and
theorists who were at that time criticising its values and outcomes. In
particular the Venetian Marco Boschini (1515–80) and the Bolognese Cesare
Malvasia (1613–93) in their treatises published in the 1770s had attacked the
pictorial tradition based on disegno and imitation of the Antique, supporting
instead colore and naturalism.38 They, as Bellori remarks right before his
discus- sion of Maratti’s drawing, taught ‘in their schools and in their books
that Raphael is dry and hard, that his style is statue- like’.39 This dispute
had its counterpart in France where the Querelle du coloris had been fiercely
debated in the 1770s.40 The theoretical battle escalated further with the
publication in 1681 of the Notizie de’ professori del disegno by the Florentine
Filippo Baldinucci (1625–97), who strongly defended Vasari and the Central
Italian tradition, at the same time directly attacking Malvasia.41 The early
1680s were therefore a moment of intense debate within and between the Italian and
French artistic schools and theoretical traditions, of which this image is one
of the most telling documents. In the following decades Maratti became the
leading artistic authority in Rome. His devotion to Raphael was rewarded in
1693 when he was appointed Keeper of the Vatican Stanze, which he then restored
in 1702–03, having already worked on the restoration of Raphael’s frescoes in
the Farnesina from 1693.42 In 1699 he was re-elected principal of San Luca, a
position he held until his death in 1713. Pope Clement XI (r. 1700–21)
nominated Maratti Director of the Antiquities in Rome in 1702, and officially
sanctioned support for his classicism by establishing papal-sponsored
competitions, the Concorsi Clementini, at the Academy.43 It is probably in celebration
of the final affirmation of this classicist aesthetic that Maratti decided to
finally print in 1702, or soon after, the complex drawing celebrating above all
the study of Antique that he had produced twenty years 44 ‘The School of
Drawing, a figurative drawing by Cavalier Carlo Maratti, can contribute much to
the disenchantment of those who believe that through knowledge and study of
many arts they can become most accomplished in the art of painting without
first acquiring the highest skill in drawing and without the natural gift and
innate capacity to give, with grace and ease, life and shapeliness to the parts
of a work they set out to depict. In addition, he [Maratti] gives form to his
fine thought through the activities pointed out here. To one side there are
some students of the mathematics of Geometry and Optics that feed into
Perspective: elsewhere there are others intent on the observation of an
anatomical model, from which can be learned the just proportions of the limbs,
the placement of the muscles and sinews that compose a figure, as set out with
precision by Leonardo da Vinci, a likeness of whom is given, with the motto
‘Enough to suffice’, to evince that, of these professional skills, he who
pursues drawing must be competent enough to bring any idea to a perfect
outcome. But for those shown engaged in the study of classical statues, slight
attention to the same is of no use since the point is to make a long and
detailed study so as learn the forms of the beautiful; and classical statues are
given as the most perfect for this since those great sculptors gave shape to
bodies in the most perfect state that Nature herself can create, which explains
the presence of the motto: ‘Never enough’. Everything, however, would be futile
without the assistance of the Graces, understood, as mentioned, as a natural
bent for composing and arranging with grace and delicacy those postures and
movement of figures from which derive the beauty and allure that stir wonder
and pleasure in the spectator, wherefore they are set for that purpose up above
on the clouds as indication that this gift comes only from heaven, and are
given the motto: ‘Without us all labour is in vain’. Live happily’ (translation
by Michael Sullivan). For a biographical summary see Rudolph 2000. Schaar and
Sutherland Harris 1967. See Bellori 1976, pp. 625, 636, 639. See Baldinucci
1975, p. 307. On Maratti’s cult for and imitation of Raphael see also Mena
Marqués 1990. Goldstein 1978, p. 3. For the text of Bellori’s Idea see Bellori
1976, pp. 13–25, and for an English translation see Bellori 2005, pp. 55–65. On
it see Mahon 1947, esp. pp. 109– 54, 242–43; Panofsky 1968, pp. 103–11; Bellori
1976, esp. xxix–xl; Barasch 2000, vol. 1, pp. 315–22; Cropper 2000. On
Maratti’s role within the Accademia see Goldstein 1978, esp. pp. 2–5. On
Bellori’s see Cipriani 2000. Jaffé 1994, p. 128, no. 251 646. It is not fully
clear whether Dorigny used the Chatsworth drawing or a lost copy of it, as he
arrived in Rome in 1687, five years after Del Carpio had left the city to
become Viceroy of Naples: see Rome 2000b, vol. 2, p. 483, no. 1 (S. Rudolph).
Philadelphia 1980–81, p. 116, note 3 and 4; Winner 1992, p. 512, fig. 5.
Bellori 1976, pp. 629–31. On Del Carpio’s commission see Haskell 1980, pp.
190–92; Pierguidi 2008; Frutos Sastre 2009, pp. 369–71. For other drawings of
the series, see Winner 1992. For the drawing (Louvre, Paris, inv. 17950) see
Rome 2000b, vol. 2, p. 484, no. 3 (S. Rudolph). For the print see Philadelphia
1980–81, pp. 114–16, no. 101 B (A. E. Golahny); Rome 2000b, vol. 2, pp. 484–85,
no. 4 (S. Rudolph). For the transcription of the print’s inscription see Winner
1992, pp. 517–18, note 7. See Philadelphia 1980–81, pp. 114–16, no. 101 A and B
(A. E. Golahny); Rome 2000b, vol. 2, p. 483, no. 2 (S. Rudolph). This second
state contains the address of Frey. Rudolph (Rome 2000b, vol. 2, p. 483, no.
2), supposes that the long explanatory inscription was added only to this
second state, while the impression exhibited here proves that it was inserted
in the first state as well. The inscription is mentioned also in a
chronological list of Maratti’s prints produced in 1711: see Rudolph 1978,
Appendix, p. 203, no 38. Kutschera-Woborsky 1919; Winner 1992, especially pp.
521–22, 531. Although some will be discussed here, the references to Raphael
are too many to be covered comprehensively. For a fuller discussion see Winner
1992. Bellori 1976, pp. 629–31. For an English translation, see Bellori 2005,
pp. 422–23. Bellori’s unfinished biography of Maratti was first published with
modifications in 1731 and independently in 1732. See Bellori 1976, p. 571, note
1; Bellori 2005, p. 435, note 4. For modern critical editions of the text, see
Bellori 1976, pp. 569–654; Bellori 2005, pp. 395–440. Winner (1992, p. 524)
suggests that the ‘master of perspective’ could be Vitruvius, as the
geometrical figures on the canvas are similar to those illustrated by Andrea
Palladio in Daniele Barbaro’s edition of Vitruvius’ De architectura (1556). On
the other hand the visual pyramid clearly refers to Albertian perspective, as
it had been recently republished and illustrated in Dufresne 1651, see
especially pp. 17–18. Bellori 1976, p. 630; Bellori 2005, p. 423. Dufresne
1651: see esp. the ‘Vita di Lionardo da Vinci descritta da Rafaelle du Fresne’,
at the beginning of the volume (not paginated) and p. 5, ch. XXII, p. 12, ch.
LVII. Bellori 1976, p. 631; Bellori 2005, p. 423. Bellori 1976, p. 629; Bellori
2005, p. 422. On Bellori’s sources in general see esp. Barocchi 2000; Perini
2000a. Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87, vol. 6, p. 109. See also Vasari’s
introduction to his chapter on Sculpture: Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87, vol.
1, pp. 84–86. Lomazzo 1584, p. 262 (book V, chap. 7). Zuccaro 1607, vol. 2, pp.
29–30 (book II, chap. 6). See Armenini 1587, pp. 63–67 (book I, chap. 8);
Bellori 1976, p. 630; Bellori 2005, p. 423. On this see also Pierguidi 2014.
Bellori had specifically praised the Farnese Hercules and the Venus de’Medici
in his Idea: Bellori 1976, p. 18; Bellori 2005, p. 59. On this see also Winner
1992, p. 532. On the Farnese Hercules see Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 229–32,
no. 46; Gasparri 2009–10, vol. 3, pp. 17–20, no. 1. On the Venus de’ Medici see
Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 325–28, no. 88; Cecchi and Gasparri 2009, pp. 74–75,
no. 64 (137). On the Belvedere Antinous see Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 141–43,
no. 4; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, p. 62, no. 10. Bellori 1976, p. 630; Bellori
2005, p. 423. Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87, vol. 3, p. 399, vol. 4, pp. 5–6.
See also Blunt 1978, pp. 93–99. Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87, vol. 3, p. 399;
Bellori 1976, pp. 625–26; Bellori 2005, p. 421. Also for Armenini ‘una bella e
dotta maniera’ could be acquired only if the artist has a natural gift
cultivated by study (Armenini 1587, see esp. p. 6 of the Proemio and pp. 51–69,
book I, chs 7 and 8). Bellori’s essays on Raphael, written at various dates,
were published in Bellori 1695. On Raphael and grace in Bellori see Maffei
2009. On the cult of Raphael in the 17th century see Perini 2000b. Boyer 1950,
p. 117; Goldstein 1970, pp. 227–41; Bousquet 1980, pp. 110–11; Goldstein 1996,
pp. 45–46. Mahon 1947, pp. 188–89. Missirini 1823, pp. 145–46 (ch. XCI); Mahon
1947, p. 189; Goldstein 1996, p. 46. Missirini 1823, p. 145. Ibid., p. 146.
Boschini 1674; Malvasia 1678. Bellori 1976, p. 627; Bellori 2005, p. 421. On
the ‘statuelike’ concept, or ‘statuino’ see esp. Malvasia 1678, vol. 1, pp.
359, 365, 484. See also Pericolo’s forthcoming article. I wish to thank Dr
Lorenzo Pericolo for generously putting this study at my disposal. See
Teyssèdre 1965; Puttfarken 1985; Arras and Épinal 2004 with previous
bibliography. Baldinucci 1681, see esp. his ‘Apologia’ at pp. 8–29. On the
controversy between Malvasia and central Italian art theorists see Perini 1988;
Rudolph 1988–89; Emiliani 2000. See Zanardi 2007. See Johns 1988. The second
state of both prints, published by Jacob Frey in 1728 was explic- itly issued
in parallel to the reward ceremony of the 1728 Concorso Clementino: see Rome
2000b, vol. 2, pp. 484–85, no. 4. earlier, with the Allegory of Ignorance as
its pendant (fig. 3). aa 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 1 153 16.
Charles-Joseph Natoire (Nîmes 1700–1777 Castel Gandolfo) The Life Class at the
Royal Academy of Painting and Sculpture 1746 Pen, black and brown ink, grey
wash and watercolour and traces of graphite over black chalk 453 × 322 mm
Signed and dated by the artist on recto, on the box at l.c., in pen and dark
grey ink: ‘C. NATOIRE f. 1746’. provenance: Possibly sold at the artist’s
posthumous sale, Alexandre-Joseph Paillet, Paris, 14 December 1778, lot 100;1
purchased Aubert for 120 livres; Gilbert Paignon-Dijonval (1708–92); Bruzard,
Paris, 23–26 April 1839, part of lot 208; Walker Gallery, acquired Sir Robert
Witt (1872–1952) (L. suppl. 2228b); Sir Robert Witt Bequest, 1952. selected
literature: Bérnard 1810, p. 142, no. 3348; Mirimonde 1958, p. 282, fig. 3;
Princeton 1977, pp. 22–23, fig. 3; Troyes, Nîmes and elsewhere 1977, p. 80,
under no. 42; Roland Michel 1987, pp. 58–59, fig. 45; Foster 1998, pp. 55–56,
fig. 13; Amsterdam and Paris 2002–03, pp. 85–88, under no. 25; Paris 2009–10,
p. 40, fig. 13; Petherbridge 2010, p. 222, pl. 152; Caviglia-Brunel 2012, p.
122, repr., p. 336, no. D. 370, repr.; Rowell 2012, pp. 179–80, fig. 9; London 2013–14,
p. 8, repr., p. 69, fig. 24. selected exhibitions: London 1950, p. 18, no. 54;
London, York and elsewhere 1953, pp. 27–28, no. 79, not repr.; London 1953, pp.
91–92, no. 391, not repr. (K. T. Parker and J. Byam Shaw); Los Angeles 1961,
pp. 51, 58, no. 25; London 1962, pp. 9–10, no. 37, not repr.; Swansea 1962,
unpaginated, no. 38; London 1968a, p. 101, no. 490 (D. Sutton); King’s Lynn
1985, p. vi, no. 33, not repr.; London 1991, p. 80, no. 35 (G. Kennedy); Paris
2000–01, pp. 405–06, no. 210 (J.-P. Cuzin); London and New York 2012–13, pp.
161–65, no. 33 (K. Scott). The Courtauld Gallery, Samuel Courtauld Trust,
London, D. 1952.RW.397 exhibited in london only Painter, draughtsman and
educator, Natoire was a contem- porary of François Boucher (1703–70) and like
him, executed both cabinet pictures and decorative schemes, as well as history
paintings.2 Trained in the studio of François Lemoyne (1688–1737), Natoire
started his career with a series of successes: having won in 1721 the Prix de
Rome of the Académie Royale, he spent the years 1723–28 in Rome where in 1727
he received the most prestigious reward for a young painter, the first prize of
the Accademia di San Luca. Back in Paris in 1730, he was received (reçu) as a
full member of the Académie in 1734 and spent the following two decades
executing decorative ensembles in Royal Palaces and various hôtels and châteaux
of the aristocracy, such as the celebrated Hôtel de Soubise (now the Archives
Nationales) in Paris. In 1751 he was appointed Director of the Académie de
France in Rome and spent the rest of his life there, dying at Castel Gandolfo
in the Alban Hills in 1777. Natoire’s large and beautifully preserved drawing –
of which there is another version, dated 1745, almost identical but less
finished, in the Musée Atger in Montpellier – offers a rare glimpse of the
École du modèle of the Académie royale de peinture et de sculpture in Paris,
where young students spent hours copying the live model.3 But rather than a
faithful view of the École du modèle, which was a similar but rather different
space,4 it is an idealised representation of how Natoire thought it ought to
be. In essence, it is a visual manifesto for the Académie’s reform at a time,
as we shall see, when many of its original practices had been abandoned or
neglected. Trying, in a programmatic image, to convey as much infor- mation as
possible, Natoire ingeniously reconfigures the 154 space for his purpose: a
very high ceiling and an angular point of view allow maximum concentration and
display of objects. Crammed together, one on top of the other, we see drawings,
bas-reliefs, paintings of different format and size and, most importantly,
plaster casts after the Antique. Our attention is immediately drawn to the
seated figure at the lower left-hand corner wearing a bright red cloak, no
doubt Natoire himself: he had been appointed assistant pro- fessor at the
Académie royale in 1735, professor in 1737 and from 1736 was instructor in the
life class for the month of February.5 Comfortably seated in an armchair, his
tricorne hat resting on the box in the centre, he carefully corrects the black
chalk drawings after the two live models presented by his pupils. At the centre
of the composition, the attention of all students is directed to the two models
posed together, a monthly event at the Académie that had been introduced in the
mid-1660s.6 The teacher was responsible for placing the models ‘in an attitude’
for afternoon classes lasting two hours, using sunlight during the summer and
artificial light during the winter months.7 The sunlight filtering in from the
left is therefore imaginary, as in February, when Natoire was in charge of the
École du modèle, illumination would have been from lamps. Only male models were
allowed, despite repeated requests for female models from the students, all of
whom were also male since women were not allowed to join the Académie until the
end of the 19th century.8 The same pose was retained for three days in a row
for a total of six hours and students were supposed to produce two study
drawings of the figures each week.9 As in this case, a curtain was usually
placed behind the model or models, to enhance 155 the contours and
isolate the figure from the background. The plinth supporting the model had
hooks at the corner to allow the professor to move it according to the fall of
the light. In addition to posing the model, the ‘duty teacher’ from 1664
onwards was supposed to make his own drawing to serve as an example for the
students and to devote part of each session to correcting students’ works, as
we see represented in this drawing.10 Natoire’s own drawing of the two models
may be in the portfolio leaning against the box in the centre; indeed an
identical red chalk composition survives – although reversed – proving that this
pose was actually used during one of his sessions (fig. 1).11 The models’
attitude in the middle follows the well- established practice within the
Académie of adopting and adapting poses to recall ancient statuary.12 In this
case they evoke the dynamic, interlocking bodies of the Wrestlers (see p. 30,
fig. 33), of which the Académie possessed a plaster cast, or possibly the pose
of the so-called Pasquino.13 The main purpose of the practice was to pose the
live model with the same tension and flexing of muscles as the ancient statues,
so that students could then correct their drawings from ‘fallible Nature’
against the perfection of the antique exam- ple. The practice was diffused
already in the 17th century and explicitly recommended by Sébastien Bourdon (1616–71),
in his famous Conférence Sur les proportions de la figure humaine expliquées
sur l’Antique delivered at the Académie in 1670.14 We Fig. 1. Charles-Joseph
Natoire, Two Models, c. 1745, red chalk, 490 × 420 mm, sold Sotheby’s, Paris,
18 June 2008, lot 101 know from the influential Abrégé de la vie des plus
fameux peintres, published by the art writer Antoine-Joseph Dezallier
d’Argenville (1680–1765) in 1745, that the great painter Philippe de Champaigne
(1602–74) devoted ‘his evenings [...] to drawing at the Académie and, on his
return, he would correct from the Antique what he had done from the model’.15
Natoire was exposed to a similar exercise during the years he spent at the
Académie de France in Rome during the 1720s and he must often have returned to
this practice during his sessions at the Académie in Paris.16 Distributed in a
semi-circle around the models are students of different ages, busy drawing the
figures. Most of them are using chalk in porte-crayons, drawing on large sheets
of paper. The exceptions are the two more mature students on the right who are
modelling bas-reliefs in clay with their fingers and wooden sticks; the one on
the right holds a sponge in his hand to clean the clay with water as seen in
the drawing by Cochin engraved for the Encyclopédie (p. 52, fig. 91).17 The
process is clearly described in the Istruzione elementare per gli studiosi
della scultura, the famous manual for students of sculpture published by
Francesco Carradori (1747–1824) in 1802, and illustrated with a strikingly
similar image (fig. 2).18 A third student, in the lower right corner, is
wetting rags in a bucket to keep the clay damp and avoid cracks, as Carradori
advised. On his left a dog – could it be Natoire’s? – stares at us from its
sheltered position. The Fig. 2. Francesco Carradori, Istruzione elementare per
gli studiosi della scultura . . . , Florence, 1802, detail of plate 5
disposition of the students reflects the admission conditions and entrance
hierarchy of the École du modèle: two-thirds were painters and one-third
sculptors, placed in the back rows.19 Behind the semi-circle of students we see
life-size plaster casts of four of the most canonical classical sculptures:
from left to right the Farnese Hercules (see p. 30, fig. 32; cat. 7), the Laocoön
(see p. 26, fig. 19; cat. 5), the Venus de’ Medici (see p. 42, fig. 56) and the
Borghese Gladiator (see p. 41, fig. 54; cat. 23).20 The Hercules and the Venus
are looking away from the viewer, as if to signal that the study of the Antique
constitutes a different – though inextricably connected – practice from the
study of the live model. The four statues provided the students with idealised
models of human proportions, anatomy, beauty and emotion: the muscular strength
of the heroic male body at rest, embodied by the Hercules, the complex pose and
the pathos and drama of the Laocoön, the grace and beauty of the female body
ideally incarnated by the Venus and, finally, the active anatomy of the
muscular man in motion as expressed by the Gladiator. They repre- sented a sort
of ‘canon within the canon’ of classical sculptures for artists, and their
choice here is not accidental. These four statues – plus the Belvedere Torso
and an antique Bacchus at Versailles – had been specifically selected as
subjects of the Conférences devoted to the Antique held at the Académie Royale
during the 1660s and 1670s; the text describing them was constantly being
re-read by academi- cians since then.21 At the time this drawing was made, the
Académie owned casts of all four statues – among many others – but Natoire
ingeniously concentrates here what was actually distributed over various
rooms.22 Significantly, all the statues in the drawing are in reverse as
Natoire did not copy them from the casts but from prints in François Perrier’s
celebrated Segmenta nobilium signorum et statuarum of 1638 (figs 3–6).23
Perrier’s collection of engravings after ancient statues had been for more than
a century the standard work of reference for students beginning their study of
the Antique, providing them with images in two dimensions that they could
master before approaching the three-dimensional casts. This course was firmly
recommended at the time of the foundation of the Académie in 1648 by Abraham
Bosse (1602–76), its first professor of perspective.24 References to the
glorious past of the Académie continue on the walls, where we are invited to
ascend from drawings and bas-reliefs to paintings. On the lower tier are the
designs and reliefs after the model that teachers had to produce from 1664
onwards (although this requirement was eventually abolished in 1715).25 Above
these are displayed a series of canvases representing some of the greatest
triumphs of modern French painting: the largest and most prominent, on the
left, is Charles Le Brun’s Alexander at the Tent of Darius (1661); to its
right, Jean Jouvenet’s Deposition (1697) and below it, barely discernible,
Eustache Le Sueur’s Solomon and the Queen of Sheba (1650). Above, in the upper
register, is hung another Le Sueur, the circular Alexander and His Doctor
(1648– 49). On the right is François Lemoyne’s Annunciation (1725); and
finally, below it Sébastien Bourdon’s Holy Family (1660– 70).26 The two square
paintings on the upper left, probably a reclining Nymph or Venus and a Cupid
and Psyche, have not been identified; it would be tempting to think that they
might be Natoire’s own creations, but they do not correspond to any of his
known works.27 None of the paintings were displayed at that time in the
Académie and all are reversed, meaning that Natoire deliberately assembled them
in this crowded space from prints.28 All were revered examples of history
paintings by famous past academicians, ranging from Le Brun, Le Sueur and
Bourdon, who had been among the twelve original founding members of the
Académie in 1648, to Lemoyne, Natoire’s own teacher. Showing different kinds of
history painting – Biblical subjects, Mythology and secular history – they here
provide the young students with models both to imitate and aspire to. On the
central pier, presiding over all the artistic activity below, is Bernini’s 1665
bust of Louis XIV, of which the Académie then displayed a plaster cast,29
reminding us of the glories of the institution under the reign of the Sun King.
Such a deliberately programmatic image, which assem- bles so many references
from different places and times, must be understood as a visual manifesto in
favour of a retour à l’ordre within the Académie. At the time Natoire conceived
it, many of the original academic practices and credos had long been neglected.
After the late 17th century almost no new Conférences were held, and teachers
simply re-read the old ones and the biographies of past academicians.30 Nor
does it seem that the study of the Antique was much promoted and certainly the
collection of casts was not integrated with the École du modèle.31 Finally, and
most impor- tantly, during the first half of the 18th century, history painting
had lost its place of pre-eminence within the Académie, a process foreshadowed
by the success of Jean- Antoine Watteau (1684–1721) and his acceptance into the
Académie in 1717 as a painter of fêtes galantes, a new category that encouraged
the development of the ‘lesser genres’ of painting.32 At the same time, because
of the popularity of ‘the Rococo interior’, history painters were often obliged
to adapt their canvases for decorative schemes, to the point that Natoire
complained in 1747 that his painting was regarded as mere furniture.33
Significantly, a completely different model was in place in Rome during the
years spent by Natoire in the city as a young 156 157
Fig. 3. (top left) François Perrier, Farnese Hercules, plate 4, from Segmenta
nobilium signorum et statuarum, Rome, 1638 Fig. 4. (top right) François
Perrier, Laocoön, plate 1, from Segmenta nobilium signorum et statuarum, Rome,
1638 Fig. 5. (bottom left) François Perrier, Venus de’Medici, plate 83, from
Segmenta nobilium signorum et statuarum, Rome, 1638 Fig. 6. (bottom right)
François Perrier, Borghese Gladiator, plate 28, from Segmenta nobilium signorum
et statuarum, Rome, 1638 years implemented a series of radical changes – such
as the re-establishment of the Conférences, the acquisition of new casts, and
making the history paintings of the Royal Collection accessible to students –
which paved the way to the triumph of the highest genre in the second half of
the century.36 It is at this moment that Natoire’s drawing was conceived,
probably as a statement in support of Tournehem’s reforms. These, in essence,
involved a return to the original credo and mission of the Académie as devised
by Louis XIV’s Minister Jean-Baptiste Colbert (1619–83) and his Premier Peintre
Charles Le Brun (1619–90): a royal institu- tion intended to support and
cultivate History Painting through the practice of drawing and the study of the
live model and the Antique. Natoire would apply many of the principles
proclaimed in his drawing during his tenure as director of the Académie de
France in Rome after 1751. The fact that everything in the Courtauld drawing –
statues, paintings and even models – appears in reverse would suggest that it
was intended to be engraved.37 How- ever, the students hold the porte-crayons
in their right hands, which would seem to contradict this theory. In any case,
it is highly likely that this complex image was conceived to be diffused for
promotional purposes, possibly on the example of Dorigny’s engraving after
Maratti (cat. 15), which Natoire would certainly have known.38 It would have
been a persuasive way to promote the study of the live model together with the
study of the Antique, a training that would effectively prepare young artists
to revive those noble forms of painting that had been the glory of the Grand
Siècle. London 2013–14, p. 33. See the 11th article of the 1664 reformed
statutes of the Académie: Montaiglon 1875–92, vol. 1, p. 253. See also London
2013–14, pp. 33–34. The fact that the drawing is in reverese seems to suggest
that it is a counter- proof. For the drawing see Caviglia-Brunel 2012, p. 481,
no. D.794, repr. in colour at p. 128. The drawing was sold at Sotheby’s, Paris,
18 June 2008, no. 101. Some of Natoire’s drawings after the live model were
published in 1745: Huquier 1745. Paris 2000–01, pp. 415–29; London 2013–14, pp.
62–69. Guérin 1715, p. 148, no. 49; London 2013–14, p. 94, note 62. On the pose
of the two models see also Foster 1998, pp. 56–57. On the Pasquino see Haskell
and Penny 1981, pp. 291–96, no. 72; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, p. 202, no. 155
Lichtenstein and Michel 2006-12, vol. 1.1, pp. 374–77. See also Goldstein 1996,
p. 150. Dezailler d’Argenville 1745–52, vol. 2, p. 182. Macsotay 2010, pp.
189–90. As noted by Gillian Kennedy in London 1991, p. 80, no. 35. I wish to
thank Camilla Pietrabissa for a fruitful discussion on the subject. Carradori 1802,
esp. pp. 3–4, article 2, and plate 5; Carradori 2002, pp. 23–24, and pp. 60–61,
plate 5. London 2013–14, p. 34. On the Farnese Hercules see Haskell and Penny
1981, pp. 229–32, no. 46; Gasparri 2009–10, vol. 3, pp. 17–20, no. 1. On the
Laocoön see Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 243–47, no. 52; Bober and Rubinstein
2010, pp. 164–68, no. 122. On the Venus de’ Medici see Haskell and Penny 1981,
pp. 325–28, no. 88. On the Borghese Gladiator see Haskell and Penny 1981, pp.
221–24, no. 43; Paris 2000–01, no. 1, pp. 150–51 (L. Laugier); Pasquier
2000–01c. Lichtenstein and Michel 2006–12, see esp. vols 1–2, passim. See also
Aymonino’s essay in this catalogue, pp. 45–46. Guérin 1715, p. 62, no. 35, pp.
105–06, nos 1–2, p. 185, no. 41; London and New York 2012–13, p. 162; London
2013–14, p. 94, note 62. On Perrier’s Segmenta see Picozzi 2000; Laveissière
2011; Di Cosmo 2013; Fatticcioni 2013. Bosse 1649, p. 98. On the success of the
Segmenta see Haskell and Penny 1981, p. 21; Goldstein 1996, p. 144; Coquery
2000, pp. 43–44. See also Aymonino’s essay in this catalogue, p. 42. London
2013–14, p. 53. On a similar display in the real École du modèle see Guérin
1715, p. 258 London 1991, p. 80, no. 35; Caviglia-Brunel 2012, p. 334, no.
D.362; London and New York 2012–13, p. 161. The Montpellier version also shows
Poussin’s circular Time defending Truth against the Attacks of Envy and Discord
on the ceiling: see Caviglia-Brunel 2012, p. 334, no. D.362. I would like to
thank Alastair Laing for discussing these two paintings with me. London 1991,
p. 80, no. 35. It was previously thought that the print from Lemoyne’s
Annunciation was not in reverse but this has been disproven by Rowell 2012, see
p. 178, fig. 7 and p. 180, note 27. Guérin 1715, p. 165, no. 1. See
Lichtenstein and Michel 2006–12, passim. Guérin 1715, pp. 257–60. See also
Foster 1998, pp. 56–57; Schnapper 2000; Macsotay 2010. Locquin 1912, pp. 5–13;
Plax 2000. Jouin 1889; London 1991, p. 80, no. 35. On the Concorsi Clementini
see Cipriani and Valeriani 1988–91 and Aymonino’s essay in this catalogue, p.
54. See also cat. 15. Macsotay 2010; Henry 2010–11. Locquin 1912, pp. 5–13;
Schoneveld-Van Stoltz 1989, pp. 216–28; Caviglia- Brunel 2012, pp. 86–87. As
already noted in Troyes, Nîmes and elsewhere 1977, p. 80, no. 42. Dorigny’s
print was reissued in 1728, in parallel to the award ceremony of the Concorsi
Clementini, when Natoire was still in Rome (see cat. 15). student.
The Accademia di San Luca officially supported the copying of the Antique and
the production of history painting through the system of the Concorsi
Clementini, established in 1702, of which, as we know, Natoire obtained the
first prize.34 At the same time the Académie de France in Rome saw a complete
reorganisation under the directorship of Nicholas Vleughels (1668-1737) between
1725 and 1737. Its enormous collection of casts was redisplayed and integrated
with the Ecole du modèle and its students, like Natoire, were strongly
encouraged to compare the ideal of casts from the Antique against nature in the
form of the live model, as we see promulgated in our drawing.35 These
principles began to be re-introduced in Paris after the election in 1745 of
Charles- François-Paul Le Normant de Tournehem – the uncle of Madame de
Pompadour – as director of the Bâtiments du Roi, the official protector of the
Académie Royale on behalf of the king. Tournehem initiated a reform aimed at
the rehabilitation of history painting, and in the following 158 159 1 2 3 4 5
6 7 8 aa Lot 100 is probably this drawing but it could also refer to the very
similar version of this sheet now preserved at the Musée Atger, Montpellier,
inv. MA1, album M43 fol. 26: see Troyes, Nîmes and elsewhere 1977, p. 80, no.
42; London 1991, p. 80, no. 35; Caviglia-Brunel 2012, p. 334, no. D.362 and p.
336, no. D. 370, where the lot description is transcribed in full. On Natoire
see Troyes, Nîmes and elsewhere 1977; Caviglia-Brunel 2012. For the Monpellier
drawing see above note 1. Guérin 1715, pp. 257–60, plate between pp. 256–57;
Caviglia-Brunel 2012, p. 334, no. D.362; London and New York 2012–13, pp.
161–62, fig. 68. Montaiglon 1875–92, vol. 5, pp. 171, 193; London 1991, p. 80,
no. 35; Caviglia-Brunel 2012, p. 334, no. D.362. Guérin 1715, p. 259; London
1991, p. 80, no. 35; London 2013–14, pp. 46, 62. See the 4th article of the
1648 statutes of the Académie: Montaiglon 1875–92, vol. 1, p. 8. See also
Guérin 1715, p. 258. London 2013–14, p. 40. Women were admitted to the
Académie, then named École des Beaux-Arts, only in 1896 and allowed to enrol
for the Prix de Rome in 1903: Goldstein 1996, p. 61. 17. Hubert Robert
(Paris 1733–1808 Paris) The Artist Seated at a Table, Drawing a Bust of a Woman
c. 1763–65 Red chalk, 333 × 441 mm provenance: Poulet, whence acquired by
Pierre Decourcelle (1856–1926), Paris in October 1912 for 300 francs;1 by
descent; Decourcelle sale, Christie’s, Paris, 21 March 2002, lot 317, from whom
acquired. literature: Paris 1933, p. 124, under no. 197; Rome 1990–91, p. 191,
under no. 135; Ottawa, Washington D.C., and elsewhere 2003–04, p. 308, under
no. 92, fig. 142. exhibitions: Paris 1922, p. 16, no. 85, not repr.
Katrin Bellinger collection, inv. no. 2002–012 Hubert Robert received a
classical education at the Collège de Navarre before studying drawing in the
studio of the sculptor, Michel-Ange Slodtz (1705–64). Even during this early
period, he showed an interest in ‘architecture in ruins’.2 Although not
eligible for a place at the Académie de Rome – he had not attended the
requisite École Royale des élèves protégés – family connections allowed him to
bypass this regulation and on 4 November 1754 Robert arrived in Rome in the
retinue of the new French ambassa- dor, Étienne-François, comte de Stainville
(1719–85), later duc de Choiseul. The diplomat sponsored Robert for the first
three years of his stay before he was granted pensionnaire status at the
Academy in 1759, under the directorship of Joseph-Charles Natoire (see cat.
16).3 Robert remained in Rome – with intermittent study trips to Naples,
Florence and elsewhere in Italy – for eleven years, responding to the fertile
archaeological climate, sparked by recent excavations at Pompeii and
Herculaneum as well as the newly opened Capitoline Museum, and indulging his
fascination for classical ruins. Natoire encouraged Robert and the other
students to sketch antiquities outdoors in situ, in the Roman campagna and
beyond. Robert also took inspiration from the work of other mentors including
the celebrated vedu- tista, Giovanni Paolo Panini (c. 1692–1765), and the
printmaker and draughtsman, Giovanni Battista Piranesi (1720–78). With his
friend and compatriot, Jean-Honoré Fragonard (1732–1806), Robert
enthusiastically sketched classical monuments and antiquities in and around
Rome, later fusing real and imagined elements to create highly original
compositions – often punctuated by ancient ruins or dilapidated architectural
fragments – that would become a trademark of his work. The vast repository of
motifs amassed by him during this productive Roman period, coupled to his
facile draughtsmanship, would serve him well for years to come. He became a
star pupil of the Academy and his drawings in particular would be eagerly
sought after before he returned to France in 1765, where he entered the
Académie Royale and successfully exhibited at the Salons.4 160 Undoubtedly one
of his finest red chalk drawings, the present study shows the artist in a rare
moment of casual repose, seated at a table and drawing, legs casually extended
and crossed, stockinged feet resting carelessly on a large portfolio of drawings
lying open on the floor.5 His relaxed, almost dishevelled appearance and level
of undress – the fallen left knee-sock slumped around his ankle, the unbut-
toned breeches and the disregarded, rumpled, coat, strewn on a chair opposite
alongside his hat and the long shadows cast – all suggest that it is the end of
a long day and he is at home, resuming a favourite activity: drawing. The focus
of Robert’s gaze is the bust of an attractive young woman in right profile
placed on the table. With his chalk-filled porte-crayon in hand, he stares
intently at her, poised to sketch. Her head titled downwards, she returns his
steady gaze; there is a palpable tension between them. However, the presence of
a third figure threatens to interrupt their private moment. With a side-glance,
a bearded man drawn on a sheet pinned up on the wall between them also watches
the young woman, thereby completing an amusing love triangle of Robert’s
invention. The object of the men’s attention is the Roman Empress, Faustina the
Younger (c. ad 125/30–175), daughter of Emperor Antonius Pius and Faustina the
Elder (fig. 1). She married Emperor Marcus Aurelius, perhaps the bearded rival
in the drawing on the wall.6 Her marble bust was discovered in Hadrian’s Villa
at Tivoli and in 1748 presented by Benedict XIV to the Capitoline Museum where
Robert would have seen it.7 Bartolomeo Cavaceppi, the Roman sculptor and
antiquities restorer, who worked on the original for a year after its discovery
and made several copies after it, was an acquaintance of Robert’s who
occasionally visited his studio (cat. 18).8 In fact, his red chalk drawing in
the Château Borély in Marseilles (cat. 18, fig. 6) records an antiquities
restorer, quite possibly Cavaceppi himself, working on a female bust.9 The present
composition is repeated in a small signed painting in the Museum Boijmans Van
Beuningen in 161 room’s generous proportions, the beamed ceiling and for-
mal window, the elegant Louis XV-style table– are consistent with those found
in Robert’s detailed sanguine of Breteuil’s grand Salone.13 Thus, it is highly
likely that the composition was conceived during his stay at the Ambassador’s
residence, 1763–65, and that it is Breteuil’s guest room that is shown. Perhaps
the drawing, more a ricordo than a preliminary study for the painting, was
intended as a gift to the host, as a gesture of gratitude and friendship. A
highly regarded collector and patron of the arts, Breteuil was an ardent
admirer of Robert’s work.14 At the outset of his posting in Rome, Natoire
praised the diplomat as an informed collector who already owned ‘quelque chose’
by Robert.15 Breteuil would later procure many of Robert’s drawings as well as
paintings.16 A close friendship between patron and artist followed, evidently
based on a shared love of art and antiquity in all its forms.17 Together they
translated texts by Virgil and took sightseeing trips in Rome, and at least one
to Florence.18 The Ambassador asked Robert to accompany him to Sicily ‘pour
visiter et dessiner les beaux morceaux antiques qui sont dans ses cantons-là’,
but, it seems, the trip never took place.19 Representations of artists in the
act of drawing antique sculpture and other works of art are recurrent in
Robert’s oeuvre along with representations of classical architecture in ruin.
Detailed studies made on the spot such as The Draughts- man at the Capitoline,
c. 1763 (p. 56, fig. 95) convey something of the wonder and excitement that he
must have felt at 20 encountering these celebrated sights for the first time.
He often represented himself or his associates in grandiose, stage-like
settings or as art tourists, of the sort that he would frequently have
encountered. But as an intimate scene of private contemplation, the present
drawing stands apart Fig. 2. Hubert Robert, The Artist in his Studio, c.
1763–65, oil on canvas, 37 × 48 cm, Museum Boijmans van Beuningen, Rotterdam,
2586 (OK) Fig. 3. Hubert Robert, Young Artists in the Studio, red chalk, with
framing lines in pen and brown ink, 352 × 412 mm, Metropolitan Museum of Art,
New York, 1972.118.23 from these. It bears a close resemblance to a composition
in the Metropolitan Museum of Art (fig. 3) showing the same room but on another
day with visitors: a bare-footed servant and two artists – one drawing, the
other inspecting the portfolio.21 A little-known red chalk study formerly in
the Camille Groult collection in Paris (fig. 4) probably preceded 22 the
present drawing. It shows the same relaxed figure alone – Robert – in identical
attire but fully dressed and outdoors, lying on the ground and sketching,
presumably after his favourite subject: the Antique. Fig. 4. Hubert Robert, Le
Dessinateur, red chalk, 300 × 400 mm, present whereabouts unknown
Fig. 1. Bust of Empress Faustina the Younger, 147–48 ad, marble, 60 cm (h), Musei
Capitolini, Rome, inv. MC449 Rotterdam (fig. 2).10 It is of similar dimensions
to the drawing but a few modifications were made: Robert no longer has a full
head of hair and the open portfolio used as a foot rest is now safely closed,
while another leans against his chair. The view of the room is wider and
includes a high, beamed ceiling, a generously sized window and a table on the
right, on which rest tools and utensils. A further nod to antiquity is a lively
copy after the celebrated Roman sculpture, Germanicus (cat. 33, fig. 4) on a
pedestal on the left. While it was found in Rome, in Robert’s time the statue
was already in Versailles.11 But its fame endured in Italy and a plaster cast
was available for study at the French Academy in Rome. Further playful details
were introduced: a framed picture and precariously hung drawings (including a
possible por- trait of Faustina); a charming dog that takes a keen interest in
Robert’s casually flung slippers. While the intimate nature of the scene, bordering
on genre, suggests this is indeed Robert’s private space, its spacious grandeur
is not that of his student lodging at the Academy. When his official term as
pensionnaire ended in October 1763, his stay was extended by the largesse of
the French Ambassador of the Order of Malta to the Holy See, the Bailli de
Breteuil (1723–85), who housed him at his palace on the Via dei Condotti until
he returned to Paris in July 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 avl According to N. Schwed
(e-mail, 30 July 2014), this information was provided to Christie’s at the time
of the Decourcelle sale in 2002. Taillasson 1808, p. 473. Letters exchanged
between the influential Marquis de Marigny, Director General of King Louis XV’s
buildings (and brother of his mistress, Madame de Pompadour), and Charles-Joseph
Natoire, Director of the French Academy in Rome published by A. de Montaiglon
and J. Guiffrey between 1887–1912 provide essential details about Robert and
his stay in Italy. For Robert and Choiseul, see ibid., vol. 11, p. 262, no.
5331. Collector and connoisseur, Pierre-Jean Mariette preferred Robert’s draw-
ings to his paintings: ‘ses tableaux est fort inferieur à ses desseins [sic],
dans lesquels il met beaucoup d’esprit’ (Mariette 1850–60, vol. 4, p. 414).
Letters between Marigny and Natoire mention requests from Mariette for
drawings: Montaiglon and Guiffrey 1887–1912, vol. 11, p. 365, no. 5477; p. 367,
no. 5483; p. 388, no. 5521; p. 428, no. 5589. The traditional view that the
drawing is a self-portrait (Paris 1922, p. 16, no. 85; Paris 1933, p. 124,
under no. 197), upheld in the recent literature, need not be questioned. The
figure resembles Augustin Pajou’s marble bust of Robert (1780) in the École
Nationale Supérieure des Beaux-Arts and Elisabeth Vigée-Lebrun’s 1788 portrait
of him in the Louvre. He has all the characteristics of an emperor from the
Antonine period. It could well be a reference to the bust of Marcus Aurelius in
the Capitoline Museum. See Fittschen and Zanker 1985, vol. 1, pp. 76–77, no.
69, vol. 2, pls 79, 81–82. A copy by Cavaceppi in terracotta is preserved in
the Museo del Palazzo di Venezia, see Rome 1994, p. 104, no. 19, repr. For the
bust, see Fittschen and Zanker 1983, vol. 1, pp.20–21, no. 19, vol. 2, pls
24–26. For its restoration, see London 1983, pp. 66–67. Cavaceppi’s posthumous
inventory of 1802 mentions two marble Faustinas and one plaster cast 9 10 11 12
13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 (Gasparri and Ghiandoni 1994, p. 264, no. 310, p.
270, no. 624 and p. 286, no. 109). For surviving copies by Cavaceppi, predominantly
acquired by English collectors, see Howard 1970, p. 123, figs 8 and 9, p. 128;
Howard 1982, p. 240, no. 6, p. 313, fig. 133, pp. 83, 251, nos. 25–26, p. 326,
fig. 211, p. 264, no. 14, p. 268, no. 15, p. 419; I. Bignamini, in London and
Rome 1996–97, pp. 211–12, no. 159; D. Walker, in Philadelphia and Houston 2000,
p. 242, no. 120. This is not, however, Faustina, as Marianne Roland Michel
proposed (Marseille 2001, p. 96, no. 109). For the painting, see J. Ebeling, in
Ottawa, Washington D.C. and elsewhere 2003–04, pp. 308–09, no. 92, 372, with
select previous literature listed. See Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 119–20, no.
42, fig. 114. Montaiglon and Guiffrey 1887–1912, vol. 12, p. 86, no. 5856.
Paris, Louvre. Méjanès 2006, p. 77, no. 33 and Ottawa and Caen 2011–12, pp.
140–41, no. 53. The connection was first noted by J. de Cayeux in Rome 1990–91,
p. 191, under cat. no. 135. On Breteuil, see Yavchitz-Koehler 1987, pp. 369–78,
Depasquale 2001, and Ottawa and Caen 2011–12, pp. 13–17 and 140–41, no. 53. Letter
from Natoire to Marigny, 25 April 1759 (Montaiglon and Guiffrey 1887–1912, vol.
11, pp. 272–73, no. 5346). For the drawings, see letter from Natoire to
Marigny, 5 January 1763, Montaiglon and Guiffrey 1887–1912, vol. 11, p. 455,
no. 5636. Compositions by Robert are among the copies made in 1770 by
Jean-Robert Ango (active 1759 – after 1773) after works in Breteuil’s
collection (Choisel 1986, nos 23–26, 44, 80). Their close rapport was recorded
by Robert’s friend, the painter Elisabeth Vigée-Lebrun (Gabillot 1895, pp.
80–81). Breteuil owned antique works as well as copies after the antique by
contemporary artists. Some are recorded in drawings by Ango (Choisel 1986, nos.
29, 45, 47, 51, 54–57, 71–72, 74–75, 83 and 125) including a small bronze Venus
Pudica, no. 56, and a copy by Laurent Guiard (1723–88) after the Venus
Calllypige from the Farnese collec- tion (no. 75). Additional antique works and
copies are listed in Breteuil’s posthumous sale in Paris of 16 January 1786,
including a copy of the Gladiator by Luc-François Breton (1731–1800), no. 135,
and a copy of the bust of Germanicus in the Capitoline, no. 143. Although no
bust of Faustina is listed, he may have owned the copy that Robert draws in the
present drawing. Gabillot 1895, pp. 61, 81–82. Letter from Natoire to Marigny,
5 January 1763 and another from Marigny to Natoire, 20 February 1763.
Montaiglon and Guiffrey 1887–1912, vol. 11, p. 455, no. 5636 and p. 462, no.
5649. J.-P. Cuzin, in Paris 2000–01, p. 373, no. 178. Michel 1998–2000, pp. 60,
62, fig. 13. Sold Galerie Charpentier, Paris, 21 March 1952, lot 52. Present
whereabouts unknown. 163 of 1765. 162 12 Certain decorative features in
the painting – the 18. Hubert Robert (Paris 1733–1808 Paris) The Roman
Studio of Bartolomeo Cavaceppi c. 1764–65 Black chalk, 339 × 443 mm Inscribed
verso l.r. in pencil: ‘Salon de 1783 / No. 61 Intérieur d’un atelier à Rome /
dans lequel on restaure des statues / antiques / Cet atelier est pratiqué et
construit / dans les debris d’un ancien temple / 5 pieds de large sur 3 pieds 9
pounces de haut’ watermark: A coat of arms, possibly containing a star, three
hills and the initials ‘CB’ below, surmounted by a Cardinal’s hat with tassels
on each side (see Heawood 1950, nos 791–99). provenance: Charles Albert de
Burlet (1882–1956), Berlin, around 1910; Sold Galerie Fischer, Lucerne, 13
November 2006, lot 1944; Private collection, Switzerland, in 2006; Le Claire
Kunst, Hamburg, in 2011; Sold Villa Grisebach, Berlin, 28 November 2013, lot
307R, from whom acquired. literature: Le Claire Kunst 2011, no. 13
(unpaginated), repr.; Yarker and Hornsby 2012-13, pp. 65–66, fig. 37; Körner
2013, lot 307R, repr. exhibitions: Not previously exhibited. Katrin Bellinger
collection, inv. no. 2013-030 A visit to the studio of Bartolomeo
Cavaceppi (1716–99) the sculptor, dealer, antiquarian, collector and
especially, restorer of ancient sculpture was essential for any serious art
tourist or collector in Rome on the Grand Tour.1 Known as the ‘Museo
Cavaceppi’, by the 1770s it was listed in guide- books as among the top sights
of the Eternal City.2 Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749–1832), who lived nearby,
and visited it in 1788 noted that one could experience in the studio ancient
sculpture from close proximity in all its gran- deur and beauty.3 The painters,
Henry Fuseli (1741–1825) and Giovanni Casanova (1728/30–1795) and the sculptor,
Antonio Canova (1757–1822), also came to see the collection.4 The ‘Museo’ was
an international meeting place, frequented by many artists including the English
sculptor, Joseph Nollekens, who worked for Cavaceppi as an assistant in the
1760s, and the English painter, Charles Grignoin, who resided with him in
1787.5 Strategically located between the Spanish Steps and the Piazza del
Popolo and thus in the social hub of Rome, the sprawling workshop was graced by
European royalty – Catherine the Great, Maria Christina, Duchess of Teschen,
Princess Sophia Albertina of Sweden, her brother, King Gustav III – and a
steady stream of English Grand Tourists like Charles Townley (see cat. 28),
many of whom became important clients.6 From a modest background, Cavaceppi
trained as a sculp- tor before enrolling in the Accademia di San Luca in 1732.
Two years later, Cardinal Alessandro Albani (1692–1779), the nephew of Pope
Clement XI and then the most respected private collector of antiquities in
Rome, appointed Cavaceppi as his personal restorer. The association brought him
many profitable commissions from foreign tourists for whom he found antique
statues, restored them, or made copies, in marble or plaster. He also created
original works, rarely signed, that were often confused with authentic antique
originals. Through his friend, the art historian and archaeol- 164 ogist,
Johann Joachim Winckelman (1717–68), who, in 1764, published The History of Art
in Antiquity (Geschichte der Kunst des Alterthums), Cavaceppi secured many
English clients, taken with the current mania for classical antiquity. He later
served as chief restorer to the Pope at the Museo Clementino and was made Knight
of the Golden Spur in 1770. In 1768 Cavaceppi published the first volume of his
Raccolta d’antiche statue, busti, teste cognite ed altre sculture antiche con-
taining sixty plates of antique statues that had been repaired in his studio,
often ‘corrected’ with missing or broken parts filled in. Over half of these
had been acquired by English collectors.7 A year later, he published the second
volume, essentially a promotional catalogue with works available for purchase,
followed by a third in 1772. Illustrating a total of 196 works, these
influential volumes, the first of their kind, helped to satisfy the seemingly
insatiable demand for unblemished antique sculpture – free of fragmentary
vestiges or other perceived flaws – and to encourage an emerging neo-classical
aesthetic. For modern scholars they serve as an indispensible tool for
identifying works he restored. By 1756 Cavaceppi established his vast studio on
the Via del Babbuino, a workshop and showroom. Cavaceppi employed a range of
skilled and unskilled workers with different roles and specialisations, fifteen
of whom have been identified by name, with Giuseppe Angelini and Carlo Albacini
being the most accomplished.8 The frontispiece to the first volume of
Cavaceppi’s Raccolta provides a fascinating look at his active studio with
assistants exercising different techniques of restoration and antiques in
various stages of completion (fig. 1). It offers a glimpse at what must have
been a sprawling complex of rooms with distinctive architectural details – high
ceilings, lattice windows and an enfilade of vaulted archways connecting each
room, one leading to an open garden courtyard at the back.9 165
Fig. 1. View of Cavaceppi’s Roman Studio, engraving, in Raccolta
d’antiche statue, vol. 1, frontispiece, Rome, 1768. Photo: Warburg Institute,
London Hubert Robert certainly encountered Cavaceppi during his Roman sojourn,
1754–65 (see cat. 17), and visited his studio on occasion, as this drawing
testifies. Executed in soft black chalk, it offers a view of one of the many
rooms in the Cavaceppi workshop. As in the engraving, there is a high ceiling
with lattice windows, statues and blocks of stone are scattered about, and
affixed to the wall on the left, is the same type of wooden structure and lead
point suspended on a cord used for measuring sculpture.10 With a chisel in one
hand and a mallet in the other, a restorer dressed in formal attire, perhaps
Cavaceppi himself, is busy worker-cutting on the cascading drapery of an
enormous statue of an armless woman. We can identify this as Cavaceppi’s studio
with virtual certainty as two works in the drawing were illustrated in perhaps
Cavaceppi himself, working on a female bust (fig. 6). Captivated by the theme
of the artist at work, Robert would return to the subject of the restorer’s
studio. In 1783 he successfully showed the impressive, rather generically
entitled, The Studio of an Antiquities Restorer in Rome at the Salon (Toledo
Museum of Art), which, though clearly an idealised vision featuring some of the
most famous antique works of the day (including the River Nile, Cupid and
Psyche, etc.), is also a wistful reminiscence of the artist’s own Roman years
and passionate study of antique statuary: a diminutive figure of an artist
sketching is visible in the foreground.18 In another little-known privately
owned picture attributed to Robert, well-clad visitors admire antique statues
in a sculptor’s studio while the ubiquitous artist is seen drawing (fig. 7).
Though certain features suggest the small painting may also represent
Cavaceppi’s studio, as with the Toledo canvas, topographical exactitude is
tempered with a more generalised, romantic – and highly saleable view – of
remnants from Rome’s ancient. For his life and work, see especially Howard
1970, Howard 1982, London 1983, Howard 1991, Gasparri and Ghiandoni 1994, Rome
1994, Piva 2000, Barr 2008, Weiss and Dostert 2000, Bignamini and Hornsby 2010,
pp. 252–55; Piva 2010–11, C. Piva in Rome 2010–11, pp. 418–19, no. IV.1 and
Meyer and Piva 2011, pp. 149–55 (for essential bibliography). Howard 1988, p.
479; Piva 2000, p. 5; Barr 2008, p. 86. Goethe 1827–42, p. 540, cited in C.
Piva in Rome 2010–11b, pp. 418–19, no. IV.1. Piva 2000, pp. 6, 17, note 4;
Honour and Mariuz 2007, pp. 26, 60–63. For Nollekens, see Howard 1964, pp.
177–89; Coltman 2003, pp. 371–96. For Grignoin, see Ingamells 1997, pp. 433–34.
Howard 1988, p. 479. For Cavaceppi’s works from British collections, see London
1983. Haskell and Penny 1981, p. 68. Barr 2008, p. 104 and p. 184, Appendix B.
Some of the same topographical details are discernible in a little-known floor
plan of the building (Piva 2000, p. 10, fig. 7). For more on this device and an
engraving demonstrating its use (published by D. Diderot and J. le Rond
d’Alembert in the Encyclopédie in 1765), see Myssok 2010, pp. 272–73, fig.
13.2. As first noted by Stefan Körner (Körner 2013, under lot 307R). Ibid.,
under lot lot 307R; U. Müller-Kaspar, in Hüneke 2009, p. 416, no. 270. Körner
2013, under lot lot 307R; U. Müller-Kaspar, in Hüneke 2009, p. 430, no. 283.
Müller-Kaspar 2009, p. 395. D. Kreikenbom, in Hüneke 2009, pp. 578–79, no. 357.
According to Winckelmann, many statues (including Kalliope and possibly also
Lucilla) were acquired by Bianconi in 1766 from the sale of Cavaliere Pietro
Natali’s collection in Rome. Conceivably, they were brought to Cavaceppi’s
studio while they were still in Natali’s possession (Müller- Kaspar 2009, p.
395; U. Müller-Kaspar, in Hüneke 2009, pp. 416, 430). Marseille 2001, p. 96,
no. 109. Guiffrey 1869–72, vol. 32, p.25, no. 61: ‘L’intérieur d’un Attelier à
Rome, dans lequel on restaure des statues antiques. Cet Attelier est pratiqué
& construit dans les debris d’un ancien Temple’. Fig. 2. Lucilla Sotto
sembianza d’Urania, anch’essa or esistente in Germania, engraving in Raccolta
d’antiche statue, vol. 1, Rome, 1768, pl. 58. Photo: Warburg Institute, London
Fig. 3. Kore as Urania, body, Antonine, c. 150 ad after a Greek model, 4th
century bc; head, 160–170 ad; marble, 270 cm (h), Berlin, SMBPK, Antikensammlung,
Sk 379 in the drawing, to the right, the muse Kalliope, lost in Berlin during
World War II, was also restored by Cavaceppi (figs 4–5).13 Both were acquired
in 1766 by the Bolognese doctor and antiquarian, Giovanni Ludovico Bianconi,
another friend of Winkelmann’s, for King Frederick William II of Prussia and
assigned to Cavaceppi for restoration before being sent to the Sansssouci
Palace in Potsdam in 1767.14 The child’s sarcophagus visible in the drawing on
the left wall is also similar to that preserved today in Charlottenhof Palace
in Potsdam though it does not appear in the Raccolta.15 The dating of Robert’s
drawing is problematic as in 1766, the year Lucilla and Kalliope were acquired
by Bianconi, the Fig. 4. Kalliope, engraving in Raccolta d’antiche statue, vol.
1, Rome, 1768, pl. 45. Photo: Warburg Institute, London Fig. 5. Kalliope,
Roman, marble, 98 cm, formerly Berlin, SMBPK, Antikensammlung, Sk 600, lost c.
1945 Fig. 6. Hubert Robert, L’Atelier du restaurateur de sculptures antiques,
black chalk, 368 × 323 mm, Château Borély, Marseilles, Inv. 68-194 painter was
already back in Paris, having left Rome in July 1765. However, it seems highly
likely that the works were lodged in Cavaceppi’s studio before their
acquisition and, indeed, they are drawn in their pre-restoration state.16
During the same period Robert probably made the black chalk drawing now in
Marseille showing an antiquities restorer, 17 Fig. 7. Hubert Robert, Studio of
a Sculpture Restorer, oil on panel, 13 × 10 cm, private collection. Photo: Witt
Library his Raccolta. 166 11 One of them, the monumental female
statue in the centre, re-appears in the publication, with arms added and an
entirely different head (fig. 2). Cavaceppi identified her as Lucilla, daughter
of Marcus Aurelius, with the attrib- utes of Urania, the muse of Astronomy
(‘Lucilla Sotto sembian- za d’Urania, anch’essa or esistente in Germania’). A
staggering 220-cm in height she is preserved today, with further restorations,
in Berlin (fig. 3).12 The seated figure behind her past. avl 167 19.
Georg Martin Preissler (Nürnberg 1700–54 Nürnberg) after Giovanni Domenico
Campiglia (Lucca 1692–1775 Rome) Self-Portrait of Campiglia Drawing 1739
Engraving, first state (before the lettering) 226 × 167 mm (image); 315 × 223
mm (sheet) Inscribed l.l. below image in pencil: ‘Campiglia se ipse del.’;
l.r.: in pencil: ‘G. M. Preisler.Sc.Nor.; and l.c. in pencil: ‘Joh. Dominicus
Campiglia, / Pictor Florent. Delineator / Musei Fiorentini.’ provenance:
Trinity Fine Art, London, 1999, from whom acquired. literature: Le Blanc
1854–88, vol. 3, p. 244, no. 6, ‘Campiglia (Giov. – Dom.). 1739. In – fol. -1er
état : avant le lettere.’ exhibitions: London 1999b, p. 8, no. 16, not repr.
Katrin Bellinger collection, inv. no. 1999–054 A prolific and
accomplished draughtsman, painter and reproductive engraver, Campiglia was a
central figure in promoting and disseminating images of the Antique during the
middle decades of the 18th century and therefore, is a key figure in the
present exhibition.1 His formative years were spent training with his uncle and
local painters in Lucca, Bologna and Florence where he studied drawing, as well
as anatomy and perspective and made copies after the Old Masters. By 1716, he
was residing in Rome studying the most important collections of antique
sculpture. That year he received a first prize for painting and for drawings to
illustrate a booklet for the Accademia di San Luca. He was already respected
for his wide culture and his work was admired by English collectors like Richard
Topham, who esteemed his refined and highly finished chalk studies of antique
sculpture, as well as his portraits.2 His close involve- ment in two lavishly
illustrated and highly successful and influential publications largely devoted
to antique sculpture – the Museum Florentinum and the Museo Capitolino (cat.
20) – brought him lasting fame and consolidated the taste for classical
antiquity that continued through the rest of the 18th century and beyond.3 In
the early 1730s the Florentine antiquarian, Anton Francesco Gori (1691–1757),
began to assemble a set of vol- umes that aimed to provide a visual record of
the art collec- tions of Florence, mainly those of the Medici, the ruling
dynasty. He commissioned Campiglia, already in the city in 1726, and others to
make drawings of the works selected to be engraved. The Museum Florentinum was
published between 1731 and 1766. It comprised twelve large volumes divided into
four parts: Gemmae antiquae ex Thesauro Mediceo et privatorum dactyliothecis
florentiae..., devoted to engraved gems (1731–32); Statuae antiquae deorum et
virorum illustrium, on antique statues and monuments (1734), Antiqua numismata
aurea et argentea, dedicated to ancient coins (1740–42) and, lastly, Serie di
ritratti degli eccellenti pittori, illustrating 320 portraits of prominent
artists, published in 1752–66. This last volume, based on art- ists’
self-portraits in the Uffizi’s collection, is of particular relevance here, as
we shall see later. This rare engraving by Preissler, hitherto unpublished and
known only in a single impression of the first state, is probably based on a
now untraced self-portrait of Campiglia.4 Without explanation, Le Blanc dates
the print to 1739 – when the artist was 47.5 Wearing an ermine collar with a
crisp, white, open-necked shirt and directly engaging the viewer, he presents
himself as straightforward, successful and brim- ming with confidence. Assuming
that Le Blanc’s date is cor- rect, the print appeared at time when Campiglia
was enjoying considerable success. The first two parts of the Museum
Florentinum had already been published, he had begun work on the Capitolino in
1735 (see cat. 20) and, precisely in 1739, he had been appointed Superintendent
of the Calcografia Camerale, the papal printing press. These successes culmi-
nated in his nomination for membership of the Accademia di San Luca in November
of that same year.6 Resting a sheet of paper against a drawings portfolio held
in his left hand, with his right hand he is drawing with a porte-crayon a model
of the Belvedere Antinous standing on the table before him (fig. 1). At the
statue’s feet is a figurine of a herm with the head of a youth, perhaps
Mercury, and two medals, one showing a man holding a lyre, who may be Homer.7
It is not surprising that Campiglia, whose reputation was established through
skilfully reproducing artefacts from the ancient world, should present himself
with the Belvedere Antinous, one of the most celebrated statues to survive from
antiquity. Renowned since its discovery in the 16th century and for its
placement in the Belvedere court, it soon ranked among the most famous statues
of Rome.8 Casts of the statue of the handsome youth, the lover of the Roman
emperor, Hadrian, who drowned himself in the Nile and was deified by 168same
year.6 Resting a sheet of paper against a drawings portfolio held in his left
hand, with his right hand he is drawing with a porte-crayon a model of the
Belvedere Antinous standing on the table before him (fig. 1). At the statue’s
feet is a figurine of a herm with the head of a youth, perhaps Mercury, and two
medals, one showing a man holding a lyre, who may be Homer.7 It is not
surprising that Campiglia, whose reputation was established through skilfully
reproducing artefacts from the ancient world, should present himself with the
Belvedere Antinous, one of the most celebrated statues to survive from
antiquity. Renowned since its discovery in the 16th century and for its
placement in the Belvedere court, it soon ranked among the most famous statues
of Rome.8 Casts of the statue of the handsome youth, the lover of the Roman
emperor, Hadrian, who drowned himself in the Nile and was deified by 168
169 adopts the same pose in the print as he did for his person- ification
of painting in the little-known Il Genio della Pittura of around 1739–40 in the
Accademia Nazionale di San Luca (fig. 2).13 The chalk holder becomes a paint
brush and the drawings portfolio a canvas. Not coincidentally, Campiglia seems
to have donated this painting as his entry work to the Academy c. 1740, about
contemporary with the present engraving.14 He cleverly fuses iconographic
elements in an amusing black chalk study of c. 1737–38 in the British Museum
(fig. 3) acquired by Charles Frederick (1709–85) while in Rome on the Grand
Tour, where he depicts himself drawing in the company of a seated monkey who
playfully holds up a paint brush, a clear allegorical reference to art
imitating nature or ‘art as the ape of nature’ as Aristotle describes it in the
Poetics.15 Characterised as ‘a very well-bred communica- tive man’, Campiglia
and his portraits were enormously popular with English collectors.16 Campiglia
made several other self-portraits throughout his career.17 Of particular
relevance is the painting made around 1766 for his pupil and collaborator,
Pietro Antonio Pazzi (c. 1706–after 1766) and now in the Uffizi.18 It shows the
artist at ease, his hands casually resting on his ever-present portfolio. The
picture appears, like so many of the Uffizi self-portraits, as an engraving by
the same Pazzi in the final volume of the Museum Florentinum (fig. 4).19 In
Pazzi’s engraving the format and central image dimensions are nearly identical
to our print of Campiglia by Georg Martin Preissler, who, not coincidentally,
engraved other portrait plates in the Museum Florentinum. Furthermore, the
pencil lettering, Joh. Dominicus Campiglia, / Pictor Florent. Delineator,
beneath the image in our engraving is similar in style and format to the
engraved inscriptions accompanying the other portraits in the book. Also
telling is the final pencil inscription, Delineator Musei Fiorentini, under his
name in the print. All this evidence strongly suggests that Campiglia intended
to use the present image for the Museum Florentinum – and had it engraved by
Preissler for that purpose – but he decided not to use it. Perhaps it served as
a kind of test-print for the engraved self-portraits in the volume. Although
the portrait series was not published until 1752–66, by 1739, Gori and
Campiglia would already have started to plan the format of the later sections.
Interestingly, Charles Le Blanc similarly describes Preissler’s engravings of
Dürer, Eglon van der Neer, Rubens and Raphael, all destined for the Museum
Florentinum, as first states ‘before the lettering’.20 But whatever our print’s
true purpose, by the time the portrait volumes appeared, Campiglia, then well
into his sixties and in the twilight of his career opted to present a more
recent and relaxed version of himself. avl Fig. 2. Giovanni Domenico Campiglia,
Genius of Painting, c. 1739–40, oil on canvas, 48 × 63.3 cm, Accademia
Nazionale di San Luca, Rome, Inv. 0075 Fig. 3. Giovanni Domenico Campiglia,
Self-Portrait of Campiglia Drawing, with a Monkey Seated on the Table at Left,
c. 1737–38, black chalk, 417 × 258 mm, Department of Prints and Drawings,
British Museum, London, 1865,0114.820 Fig. 4. Pietro Antonio Pazzi after
Giovanni Domenico Campiglia, Self-Portrait of Campiglia, engraving in Museum
Florentinum, Florence, vol. 12, 1766, plate XXII, 274 × 176 mm (plate), Sir
John Soane’s Museum Library, London, 2848 Fig. 1. Belvedere
Antinous, Roman copy of the Hadrianic period (117–138 ad) from a Greek original
of the 4th century bc, marble, 195 cm (h), Vatican Museums, Rome, inv. 907 the
grief-stricken emperor, were produced almost immedi- ately after its discovery
and copies in marble and bronze were made through the 17th century.9 Considered
to embody perfection, according to Bellori the statue was the subject of
studies in ideal proportion by François Duquesnoy (1597– 1643) and Nicolas
Poussin (1594–1665) (p. 47, fig. 68). The figure had wide-reaching appeal to
collectors and connois- seurs, and enticed a range of artists, who, from the
16th century included it in portraits.10 During the 18th century small-scale models
in bronze or marble, like that seen in the engraving, were produced in large
numbers with ‘restored’ arms, as seen here. Archaeologist and art historian,
Winckelmann, no doubt contributed to the statue’s elevated status even more
with his claim, ‘our Nature will not easily create a body as perfect as that of
the Antinous admir- andus’.11 The widely held belief that the statue was the
embodiment of ideal beauty would be upheld into the 19th century: even the
usually acerbic William Hogarth admitted its proportions were ‘the most perfect
. . . of any of the antique statues’.12 Campiglia was not shy and his other
self-portraits make a compelling comparison with this one. Interestingly, he 1
2 3 4 5 6 7 For essential biography, see Prosperi Valenti 1974, pp. 539–41;
Quieto 1984a; Quieto 1984b. Through his agent, Francesco Ferdinano Imperiali,
Topham commis- sioned Campiglia and others, including the young Pompeo Batoni,
to make dozens, if not hundreds of drawings with the aim of systematically
illus- trating Roman collections of antiquities. Many of these drawings are now
preserved at Eton College. See Connor Bulman 2002, pp. 343–57 and Windsor 2013,
pp. 11, 14–15. The corpus of his drawings for the Museum Florentinum are in the
Uffizi in Florence (Quieto 1984b, p. 10) and for the Museo Capitolino, in the
Istituto Nazionale per la Grafica in Rome (Quieto 1984b, pp. 10, 17–26, 29–36;
I. Sgarbozza in Rome 2010–11b, p. 402, no. II.15a-b). It is listed by C. Le
Blanc (1854–88, vol. 3, p. 244, no. 6) among the prints by G. M. Preissler:
‘Campiglia (Giov. – Dom.). 1739. In – fol. -1er état : avant le lettere.
Frauenholz, 4 flor.’ To the knowledge of the present writer, no impression of
the second state exists nor, for that matter, has either state previously been
published or discussed. The name and price Le Blanc men- tions – Frauenholz, 4
florins – refer to the Nuremberg-based print dealer and publisher, Johann
Friedrich Frauenholz (1758–1822), who may have owned the catalogued impression
and who sold (or acquired) it for the price of 4 florins. While it is possible
that the present impression is the one described, none of Frauenholz’s
collector’s marks or inscriptions (L. 951, L. 994, L. 1044 and L. 1458) appear
on it. Campiglia’s relatively youthful appearance suggests the drawn or painted
original may have been executed a decade or so earlier. He was proposed by
Sebastiano Conca on 15 November 1739 and his mem- bership confirmed, 3 January
1740 (Quieto 1983, p. 3). As noted by Eloisa Dodero (personal communication),
the herm is similar to the one seen in the background of Campiglia and Pazzi’s
engraving, Students Copying Antiquities at the Capitoline Museum (see following
entry, cat. no. 20). 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 Haskell and Penny
(1981, pp. 139–42, no. 4) give a full account of the sculp- ture’s history and
reception. See also Krahn 1996. See V. Krahn in Rome 2000b, vol. 2, pp. 403–04,
no. 9. Haskell and Penny 1981, p. 142 and Krahn 1996. Haskell and Penny 1981,
p. 142; and Winckelmann 1968, p. 153. Hogarth 1753, pp. 81–83. Faldi 1977, pp.
504, 508, fig. 8. Quieto 1983, p. 5; Rome 1968, p. 22, no. 5. Liverpool
1994-95, p. 72, no. 19. Ibid., p. 72. Gentleman’s Magazine 1853, vol. 40, p.
237, as quoted by H. Macandrew 1978, p. 138. Painted self-portraits are in the
Palazzo Altieri, Viterbo (formerly Faldi collection, Rome; Quieto 1983, pp.
5–6, 8, fig. 3, c. 1726–28), the Lemme collection, Rome (ibid., 1983, pp. 5,
7–8, fig. 4, 1732–34). See also the two mentioned in note 18, below. Drawn
self-portraits of a later date have appeared on the London art market: Chaucer
Fine Arts, 2003 (London 2003a, no. 12), Christie’s, December 6, 2012, lot 56
and Christie’s, April 21 1998, lot 126. See Quieto 1983, pp. 4–5, fig. 2 and
Quieto 2007, pp. 93–94, fig. 27. As that author noted, it reprises the
composition of an earlier work painted for the Accademia di San Luca (1983, p.
5, cover). Although in 1766 the painting was not yet in the Uffizi – it was not
left by Pazzi to the Grand Ducal collection until 1768 (Quieto 1983, p. 5) – it
is likely that at that date he had already planned to bequeath it, given the
self- portraits in the Museum Florentinum are based on the Uffizi’s collection.
Le Blanc 1854–88, vol. 3, p. 244, nos. 8, 23, 28, 30. Interestingly, Le Blanc indicates
that the Dürer and Raphael were also once owned by Frauenholz. It seems that
all these early first states were in a folio together. 170 171 20. Pietro
Antonio Pazzi (Florence c. 1706 – after 1766 Florence) after Giovanni Domenico
Campiglia (Lucca 1692–1775 Rome) Students Copying Antiquities at the Capitoline
Museum 1755 Engraving in Giovanni Gaetano Bottari, Musei Capitolini, vol. 3,
Rome, 1755, p. 1 99 × 186 mm (plate), 444 × 287 mm (sheet) Inscribed l.l.:
‘Gio. Dom. Campiglia inv. e disegn.’; and l. r.: ‘P. Ant. Pazzi incis.’
provenance: Robert Adam (1728–92); his sale, Christie’s, London, 20–21 May
1818; purchased by Sir John Soane (1753–1837), not listed in the Christie’s
sale catalogue (according to hand list, Sir John Soane’s Museum, Priv. Corr.
XVI.E.3.12: ‘Books purchased at Mr Adam’s sale’). literature: Haskell and Penny
1981, p. 84, fig. 46; Lyon 1998–99, pp. 109–10, under no. 89, not repr. (A.
Themelly); Paris 2000–01, p. 370, fig. 2; Macsotay 2010, p. 194, fig.
9.3. exhibitions: Not previously exhibited. Sir John Soane’s Museum
Library, London, 4033 exhibited in london only Few images capture the process
of learning to draw after the Antique in 18th-century Rome as vividly as
Campiglia and Pazzi’s densely populated engraving. More readily accessible than
the Belvedere Courtyard in the Vatican (cats 5 and 6) and the private
aristocratic collections, such as the Borghese and Farnese (cats 6 and 21), the
Capitoline Museum was the ideal venue for students to draw in situ from some of
the most celebrated antiquities preserved in Rome. Founded in 1471 with Pope
Sixtus IV’s (r. 1471–84) dona- tion of several important ancient bronzes – the
She Wolf, the colossal bronze head and hand of Constantine, the Spinario and
the Camillus – all preserved until then in the Lateran Palace, the Capitoline
grew in time to become one of the largest and most prestigious collections of
classical antiqui- ties ever assembled in Rome.1 In 1734, in conjunction with
the recent acquisition of the celebrated collection of Cardinal Alessandro
Albani, and thanks to the enlightened policy of Pope Clement XII (r. 1730–40),
the Capitoline opened as a public museum.2 Established with the two-fold civic
and educational purpose of preserving and making accessible to the public the city’s
antiquities and to cultivate ‘the practice and advancement of young students of
the Liberal Arts’, the museum soon became a lure for Italian and foreign
antiquar- ians and artists alike.3 The didactic function of the museum was
emphasised further by Pope Benedict XIV (r. 1740–58) with the opening of the
Pinacoteca Capitolina in 1748, the first public collection of painting in Rome,
and, in 1754, the establishment of the Accademia del Nudo.4 The Capitoline thus
became the first public museum in Europe in the modern sense of the word and an
ideal academy where art students could copy concurrently from the Antique, Old
Master paintings and the live model. The museum’s educational mission was
sanctioned by its growing associa- tion with the Accademia di San Luca. Academy
members 172 presided over the life classes at the Accademia del Nudo (Campiglia
directed classes there in April 1757 and November 1760)5 and prizes for the
student competitions at the Accademia di San Luca, the Concorsi, were awarded
in sump- tuous ceremonies in the rooms of the Capitoline palaces.6 This image
is the engraved vignette that introduces the volume devoted to ancient statues
of the Musei Capitolini, an ambitious publication produced with the pedagogical
intent of spreading knowledge of the museum and its collection of antiquities.7
Conceived by Cardinal Neri Maria Corsini, the nephew of Pope Clement XII, it
consisted of large engraved plates (fig. 1), all based on designs by Campiglia,
accompa- nied by a substantial commentary by the antiquarian Giovanni Gaetano
Bottari (1689–1775); both artist and writer had worked together previously on
the monumental Museum Florentinum (cat. 19). First published in Italian as Del
Museo Capitolino (4 vols, Rome, 1741–82) and then translated into Latin as
Musei Capitolini (4 vols, Rome, 1750–82) in order to reach a wider foreign
audience, the large volumes can be Fig. 1. Carlo Gregori after Giovanni
Domenico Campiglia, The Dying Gladiator, engraving, 202 × 300 mm, plate 68 from
Giovanni Gaetano Bottari, Musei Capitolini, vol. 3, Rome, 1755 173
considered the first systematic catalogue of a public museum.8 The prestige of
the publication, the clarity and neatness of the illustrations – produced by
many of the engravers who, like Pietro Antonio Pazzi, had participated in the
Museum Florentinum – soon made it a celebrated and indispensible reference work
that greatly contributed to the diffusion of the classical taste in Europe. It
was a familiar presence in the libraries of connoisseurs and artists as this
copy, owned by Sir John Soane (1753–1837) and before him by Robert Adam
(1728–92), testifies. The engraving is a celebration of the new educational
role of the museum and its association with the Academy of San Luca, of which
Campiglia had been a member since 1740 (see cat. 19). In a crowded space, a
group of students is seen sketching and modelling in clay after two of the most
famous statues that had been recently acquired for the museum: the so-called
Dying Gladiator (fig. 2) and the Capitoline Antinous (fig. 3), now believed to
represent respectively a Gaul and Hermes. The former, discovered around 1623,
and already famous in the 17th century when it was in the Ludovisi collection,
had been acquired in 1737 by Clement XII for the 9 Capitoline. Placed at the
centre of the composition, with Fig. 2. The Dying Gladiator, Roman copy of a
Pergamene original of the 3rd century bc, marble, 93 cm (h), Capitoline
Museums, Rome, inv. MC0747 Fig. 3. The Capitoline Antinous, Roman copy of the
2nd century ad of a Greek original of the 4th century bc, marble, 180 cm (h),
Capitoline Museums, Rome, inv. MC0741 the young artists assembled in a
semi-circle around it as if in a life class, the Gladiator invited analysis and
study of the male anatomy in a complex pose, as well as offering an example of
a noble and heroic death. The Capitoline Antinous, recorded in Cardinal
Albani’s possession from 1733, had been acquired with the rest of the
Cardinal’s collection in the same year and was displayed in the museum a few years
later.10 Quickly eclipsing the Belvedere Antinous (see p. 26, fig. 22 and cat.
19, fig. 1), it represented a perfect image of the male body in its youth. It
is not by chance that the young students are focusing on these two statues
among the many towering over them in the room, for the Dying Gladiator and the
Capitoline Antinous were the chosen subjects for the third class of the
Concorso Clementino – reserved for the copy – either drawing or modelling –
usually after the Antique, organised by the Accademia di San Luca for the year
1754 (fig. 4).11 But if the engraving alludes to a contemporary event, the
establishment of the museum as a ‘Scuola del Disegno’,12 it is also a
capriccio, as it gathers together sculptures that were in fact displayed elsewhere
in various rooms and collections, much as Hubert Robert would do in his
beautiful red chalk drawing of almost ten years later (p. 56, fig. 96). The
Dying Gladiator, the Capitoline Antinous and the two stand- ing statues behind
him, the Antinous Osiris and the Wounded Amazon, could all be admired and
studied in the privileged space of the Salone of the Palazzo Nuovo, which
housed some of the best masterpieces of the collection.13 The so- called Albani
Crater, half visible on the far left, and the seated Agrippina behind the
Antinous, were however, displayed elsewhere in the Palazzo Nuovo, respectively
in the Stanza del Vaso and in the Stanza dell’Ercole.14 Moreover, Campiglia did
not confine himself to depicting only works from the Capitoline collections: even
more out of place are the two figures on the right, who turn their backs to
Fig. 4. Giovanni Casanova, Drawing of the Capitoline Antinous (third award for
the third class in painting of the Concorso Clementino), 1754, red chalk on
brown prepared paper, 510 × 290 mm, Accademia Nazionale di San Luca, Rome, inv.
A.380 Fig. 5. Giovanni Paolo Panini, View of Ancient Rome or Roma Antica,
detail, c.1755, oil on canvas, 169.5 × 227 cm, Staatsgalerie Stuttgart inv. Nr.
3315 us as if to signify that they belong elsewhere. These are the much revered
Antinous Belvedere and the Venus de’ Medici – dis- played at that time
respectively in the Vatican and in the Tribuna of the Uffizi.15 Their presence
here probably served to sanction and affirm the canonical status of their
Capitoline companions, all recently excavated or acquired. What we see is
therefore a symbolic space, where reality and fantasy are combined to
legitimise and promote the relatively new collection of the museum. The volumes
of the Musei Capitolini served as a reference tool for many artists and no
doubt inspired the scene showing young students drawing the Dying Gladiator in
the foreground of Giovanni Paolo Panini’s renowned View of Ancient Rome (fig.
5, and p. 53, fig. 92), the first version of which, not coincidentally, was
painted at about the same Fig. 6. Carlo Gregori after Giovanni Domenico
Campiglia, Young Artists Copying the ‘Arrotino’, engraving, 118 × 151 mm, page
225 in Anton Francesco Gori, Museum Florentinum . . . , vol. 8, Florence, 1754 time
as the publication of this particular volume. Campiglia devised similar
graceful allegorical vignettes for the contemporary volumes of the Museum
Florentinum.16 One in particular, engraved by Carlo Gregori (1719–59), seems to
be the Florentine counterpart of the Roman image, showing students sketching
the Arrotino, surrounded by the symbols of the arts and books on anatomy and
geometry (fig. 6).17 Although in the second half of the 18th century access to
the museum sometimes proved difficult due to lack of personnel, and while
artists had to go through the bureau- cratic process of applying to the papal
camerlengo or to the director of the museum for licence to make copies, the
Capitoline remained one of the most popular sites among artists and travellers,
as the many views of its interiors testify (pp. 55–56, figs 94–96).For recent
and brief introductions on the history of the Capitoline collec- tions, with
previous bibliography, see Parisi Presicce 2010; Paul 2012. On the early years
of the Capitoline as a public museum see Arata 1994; Franceschini and Vernesi
2005; Arata 2008. Document dated 5 December 1733 quoted in Arata 1994, p. 75.
On the Pinacoteca see Marinetti and Levi 2014. On the Accademia del Nudo see
Pietrangeli 1959; Pietrangeli 1962; MacDonald 1989; Barroero 1998. On
Campiglia’s supervision of life classes at the Accademia del Nudo see Pirrotta
1969. On the Concorsi see Cipriani and Valeriani 1988–91; Rome, University Park
(PA) and elsewhere 1989–90; Cipriani 2010–11. See Quieto 1984b; Kieven 1998;
Philadelphia and Houston 2000, pp. 484– 86, no. 329 (S. Prosperi Valenti
Rodinò); Rome 2004, pp. 96–108, nos 1–7 (A. Gallottini); Rome 2010–11b, p. 401,
no. II.14 (I. Sgarbozza). Campiglia started working on his designs for the
plates in 1735: see Franceschini and Vernesi 2005, pp. 59–60. See Haskell and
Penny 1981, pp. 224–27, no. 44; Mattei 1987; La Rocca and Parisi Presicce 2010,
pp. 428–35. See Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 143–44, no. 5; La Rocca and Parisi
Presicce 2010, pp. 500–01. The statue was exhibited in the museum from 1739 or
1742. Cipriani and Valeriani 1988-91, vol. 2, pp. 219–20, 228. While the 1754
prize drawings depicting the Antinous survive in the archives of the Accademia,
the terracottas representing the Dying Gladiator are lost. The Dying Gladiator
was also chosen as the subject for the third class in painting in 1758 and the
Capitoline Antinous for the third class in sculpture in 1779, and in painting
in 1783: ibid., vol. 3, pp. 9–22, 120, 129–30, 141–46. It was referred to as such
in the award ceremony for the Concorso: see Belle Arti 1754, p. 36. On the
Antinous-Osiris, donated to the museum by Benedict XIV in 1742 and from 1838 in
the Vatican Museum, see Paris, Ottawa and elsewhere 1994– 95, pp. 78–79, no. 24
(M. Pantazzi). On the Wounded Amazon, acquired in 1733 as part of Albani
collection, see Weber 1976, pp. 46–56. On the Albani Crater and its base, both
previously in the Albani collection, see Grassinger 1991, pp. 189–90, no. 32.
On the so-called Agrippina, already recorded in the Capitoline collections in
1566, see Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 133–34, no. 1; Rome 2011, pp. 324–25, no.
5.9 (A. Avagliano). On their display at that time, see Venuti 1750, pp. 23, 30,
33–34; Arata 1994. For the Antinous Belvedere and the Venus de’ Medici see
above p. 26, fig. 22 and p. 42, fig. 56. Many are found in volumes 8 to 12. On
the so-called Arrotino or Knife Grinder, once in the Villa Medici in Rome and
from 1680 in the Tribuna of the Uffizi see Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 154–56,
no. 11; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, pp. 83–84, no. 33. On access to the
Capitoline Museum in the 18th century see Sgarbozza 2010–11.
174 175 21. Louis Chays (Aubagne c.1740–1811 Paris) The Courtyard
of the Farnese Palace in Rome with the Hercules Farnese 1775 Pen and brown ink,
brown wash, pencil and white gouache, 434 × 534 mm Inscribed recto, l.l., in
pen and black ink: ‘chaÿs f. a rome 1775.’; and l.c., in pencil, possibly by
different hand: ‘Cour du Palais Farnése’. provenance: Hippolyte Destailleur
(1822–93) collection (no. 110). literature: Berckenhagen 1970, p. 394, no.
3027, repr.; Giuliano 1979, p. 100, fig. 13; Michel 1981b, p. 584, fig. 8; De
Seta 1992, p. 240, repr.; Gasparri 2007, p. 53, fig. 45 and p. 178, no. 273.4;
Macsotay 2010, p. 194; Göttingen 2013–14, p. 208, fig. 53. exhibitions:
Not previously exhibited. Kunstbibliothek, Berlin, Hdz 3027 exhibited in london
only Private aristocratic collections of antiquities in Rome contin- ued to
attract large numbers of artists and visitors during the 18th century. The
Farnese Palace, with its group of canon- ical ancient sculptures – the Farnese
Hercules (see p. 30, fig. 32) the Farnese Bull and the Farnese Flora among
others – and its Gallery with the Loves of the Gods, the widely admired fresco
cycle by Annibale Carracci (1560–1609), offered the ideal opportunity to copy
the Antique and a tour de force of early 17th-century mythological decoration
at the same time.1 Drawings after the famous Farnese statues by Maarten van
Heemskerck (1498–1574), Hendrick Goltzius (1558–1617) (see cat. 7), Annibale
Carracci (see p. 43, fig. 58), Peter Paul Rubens (1577–1640; see p. 46, fig.
67), Nicolas Poussin (1594–1665), Anthony van Dyck (1599–1641), Carlo Maratti
(1625–1713; see p. 43, figs 60–61), Hubert Robert (1733–1808), Jacques Louis
David (1748–1825) and Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres (1780– 1867), to name just
a few, testify to the enduring fame of the palace and its legendary collection
of antiquities among European artists residing in Rome.2 In the 18th century
the palace went through changes of ownership, passing in 1731 from the Farnese
to the Bourbon, but it remained a lively envi- ronment, with many artists and
others residing in its rooms, and was readily accessible for those who wished
to draw or model.3 Between 1786 and 1800 all the ancient statues of the
collection were removed by the Bourbon King Ferdinand IV to Naples – where they
can be seen today in the National Archaeological Museum – a decision that
marked the end of the palace as a privileged place for studying the Antique.4
Louis Chays is one of the lesser-known figures among the French artists who
gravitated towards the Académie de France in Rome in the 1770s. He studied at
the Academy in Marseille under Jacques-Antoine Beaufort (1721–84), before
moving to Rome thanks to the patronage of Louis-Joseph Borély, a wealthy
Marseille merchant.5 His five years in Rome, between 1771 and 1776, were
probably spent in the company of such pensionnaires of the Academy as
Joseph-Benoît Suvée (1743–1807), Jean-Simon Berthélemy (1743–1811), Pierre-
Adrien Pâris (1745–1819) and François-André Vincent (1746–1816). These young
artists were of the same generation, they all arrived in Rome in 1771 and
stayed there for a similar span of years. They seem to have travelled around
the city and the Roman campagna as a group, sketching sites, ruins and
landscapes, and they naturally shared a similar style and repertoire.6 The
result of Chays’ artistic wanderings consists mainly of evocative drawings in
the manner of Hubert Robert and Jean-Honoré Fragonard (1732–1806) though Chays’
drawings lack their characteristic vivacity. The corpus of his drawings is
preserved in the Kunstbibliothek in Berlin.7 This study, with its companion,
The Colonnade of St Peter’s Square, stands apart in Chays’ known graphic
production in being a large-scale and highly finished pen-and-wash draw- ing.8
The lively view is the only known representation of groups of students, rather
than just individuals, at work in the courtyard of the Palazzo Farnese; nor
does the present writer know of any similar record of study in other private
collections of antiquities in Rome. It is also an important historical
document, being one of the last images to show the statues in their original
location before their removal to Naples, from 1786 onwards. Chays cleverly
chose a low view- point and an angle that allows for maximum drama: the
receding pillars of the portico frame the focus of our atten- tion, the massive
statue of the Farnese Hercules. We are standing in the shadowy passage leading
to the gardens of the palace and we see the Hercules from behind, by then a
view as successful as the front (see cats 7 and 16). Other images of the
Hercules from the back in the Farnese courtyard had been produced decades earlier
by Giovanni Paolo Panini (1691–1765) (fig. 1), Giacomo Quarenghi (1744–1817)
(fig. 2) and Frédéric Cronstedt (1744–1829), and one wonders whether Chays had
seen any of them.9 In any case, to animate his composition Chays certainly took
inspiration from the many capricci by Panini where the Hercules towers over
groups of wanderers and also from such drawings showing artists at 176
177 Fig. 1. Giovanni Paolo Panini, View of the Courtyard of the
Palazzo Farnese with the ‘Hercules’ seen from Behind, c. 1730, pen and black
and grey ink and wash, and coloured wash, heightened with white, 419 × 417 mm,
private collection work in Rome produced by Charles-Joseph Natoire (see p. 55,
fig. 94) or Hubert Robert (see p. 56, figs 95–97). We see here the usual cast
of characters familiar from Robert’s drawings: a combination of artists,
beggars, dogs, young children, and bystanders, some of them dressed in the
current fashion, like the elegant aristocratic couple in the centre, no doubt
accompanied by a tour guide or cicerone. Others are presented in all’antica
dress, such as the beggar and muscular male student on the right, both of whom
wear Roman togas and gaze intently at the sculpture from behind. But among the
many visitors to the courtyard, the true protagonists are the students, busy at
work, sketching on large sheets resting on drawing boards or modelling in clay,
as in Campiglia’s and Pazzi’s engraving (cat. 20). Some focus on the Hercules,
while others, seated on chairs or on the ground in the middle of the courtyard,
turn towards the other star of the collection, the Farnese Flora, visible to
the right of the Hercules.10 The entire palace seems to have been turned into
an academy, with animated conversations taking place throughout: particularly
intriguing is the lively discus- sion taking place around a large drawing in
the central bay of the first floor loggia. In the distance, through the
entrance vestibule on the lower right, we have a glimpse of the Piazza Farnese
and the external world. While the technique in this drawing is precise and
although the details are lively, the rendering of the architec- ture, which was
evidently drawn first and before the figures were superimposed, is less
successful. It is notable that the Fig. 2. Giacomo Quarenghi, View of the
‘Farnese Hercules’ in the Portico of the Courtyard of the Farnese Palace, c.
1775–79, pen and black ink and wash and coloured wash, 304 × 233 mm, private
collection scale of the two sides of the courtyard visible behind the por- tico
does not quite correspond. In fact, Chays’ real forte was landscape rather than
accurate architectural views, although reasonably faithful depictions of the
Villa Madama and other Roman buildings survive.11 Although this view is largely
imaginary, it seems to evoke the spirit of the courtyard as it appeared to
pupils of the Accademia di San Luca and pensionnairesof the Académie de France
in Rome who frequented the palace regularly. Visits to grandiose palaces such
as this must have left a lasting impression on these young students. The
Accademia di San Luca sent its students around Rome to copy the Antique,
especially on the occasion of academic competitions, the Concorsi.12 In the
18th century the Hercules and the Flora were chosen several times as subjects
for the third class of the Concorso Clementino – reserved for the copy, a
drawing or a model, usually after the Antique – and the students’ gather- ings
in those occasions must have offered a scene as animated as that we see in
Chays’ drawing.13 Most of the artists depicted here are sketching on large
sheets of paper, generally reserved in the 18th century for academic drawings
after the Antique, as seen also in Campiglia’s and Pazzi’s engraving (cat.
20).14 The Académie de France in Rome had been founded in 1666 with the specific
intent of shaping the taste and manner of young artists ‘sur les originaux et
les modèles des plus grands maîtres de l’Antiquité et des siècles derniers’ and
of furnishing the royal gardens at Versailles with copies of the most famous
antiquities from Rome.15 Although the direct copy from antique statuary had
been neglected for certain periods since the Académie’s founding, it had once
again gained a central place in the official curriculum of the pensionnaires
during the direc- torates of Nicolas Vleughels (1725–37) and Charles-Joseph
Natoire (1751–75) (see cat. 16). Although no surviving drawings after the
Antique by Chays are known, he probably produced them as he spent considerable
time in Rome copying Old Master paintings, such as those by Raphael, Titian and
Guido Reni.16 He returned to Marseilles in 1776 and spent the following years
decorating the château of his patron, today the Musée Borély, where he put into
practice the lessons and skills he had acquired in Rome.17 After becoming one
of the professors of the Académie in Marseilles, Chays participated in the
Revolution and as sergeant-major took part in 1790 in the occupation of the
fort of Notre-Dame de la Garde by the Garde National.18 He later published a
collection of etchings some of which he based on the views that he had
assembled in his Roman years.19 Among the last mentions we have of him are his
Paris Salon entries of 1802 and 1804: perspective drawings of the antiquities
collection of the Louvre. SeeMéjanès1976;WashingtonD.C.1978–79,pp.148–155.
Berckenhagen1970,pp.393–96,nos3026–3074and3673–3674. Ibid.,p.394,no.3026. For
Panini’s drawing see Arisi 1961, p. 245, no. 80, fig. 359; Sotheby’s New York,
29–30 January 2013, lot 113. Two paintings attributed to Panini (wrongly, in
the opinion of the present writer) in a French private collec- tion show
similar views: see Munich and Cologne 2002, pp. 408–10, nos 187 a/b. For
Quarenghi’s drawing see Sotheby’s New York, 27 January 2010, lot 90. Another,
almost identical version is in the Hermitage, St Petersburg (inv. 25819):
Bergamo 1994, pp. 185–86, no. 234. For Cronstedt’s drawing, executed in 1772,
now in the National Museum, Stockholm see Palais Farnèse 1980–94, vol. 2, p.
131, fig. b. Before the 18th century the same viewpoint had been represented in
a drawing by an anonymous Dutch draughtsman of c. 1540–60, now in the Herzog
Anton Ulrich-Museum, Braunschweig (inv. Z 320r): see Gasparri 2007, p. 17, fig.
4 and p. 178, no. 273.1. The Flora is here shown with its Renaissance
restorations by Guglielmo Della Porta and Giovanni Battista de Bianchi and
before Carlo Albacini’s new restorations undertaken after 1787: see Gasparri
2009–10, vol. 3, esp. pp. 38–40. See for instance, Berckenhagen 1970, p. 395,
no. 3030. On the Concorsi see cat. 20, note 6. Both were chosen for the third
class in sculpture in 1703: Cipriani and Valeriani 1988-91, vol. 2, pp. 26–27.
The Hercules was chosen for the third class in both painting and sculpture in
1728 and later on in sculpture in 1783 and in 1789 (this time from a plaster
since the statue had been transported to Naples in 1787): ibid., vol. 2, p.
182, vol. 3, pp. 130, 153. The Flora was chosen for the third class in painting
in 1750: ibid., vol. 2, pp. 209–10. See the size of the drawings for the third
class of the Concorsi Clementini of the Accademia di San Luca in Cipriani and
Valeriani 1988–91, vols 2–3. See also Macsotay 2010, pp. 193–94. ‘On the
originals and the examples of the greatest Antique masters and those of
preceding centuries’: letter from Jean-Baptiste Colbert to Nicolas Poussin,
1664, mentioned in Montaiglon and Guiffrey 1887–1912, vol. 1, p. 1 and in
Lapauze 1924, vol. 1, p. 2. See Aymonino’s essay in this catalogue, pp. 44–46.
These copies now survive in the Musée des Beaux-Arts and in the Musée Borély in
Marseille: Paris 1989, pp. 268–69, no. 113 (J.-F. Méjanès). Benoît 1964. Vialla
1910, p. 484. ‘Ouvrage de 36 feuilles tirées des Porte-feuilles du C[itoye]n S.
[sic] Chays...’. See Thieme-Becker 1907–50, vol. 6, p. 445. See also Le Blanc
1854–88, vol. 1, p. 625. ‘Dessins perspectives de différens points de vue, qui
donnent le développe- ment de toutes les figures antiques du Musée [du Louvre],
ainsi qu’une juste idée du local et de la décoration du palais’: Sanchez and
Seydoux 1999– 2006, vol. 1, p. 46, no. 58 (1802), p. 76, no. 105 (1804). See
also Paris 1989, pp. 268–69, no. 113 (J.-F. Méjanès). 178 179 1 2 3 4 5 aa On
the Farnese Hercules see above p. 30 and cat. 7. On the Farnese Flora see
Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 217–19, no. 41; Gasparri 2009–10, vol. 3, pp.
37–42, no. 8, pl. VI, 1–5 (C. Capaldi). On the Farnese Bull see Haskell and
Penny 1981, pp. 165–67, no. 15; Gasparri 2009–10, vol. 3, pp. 20–25 no. 2, pl.
II, 1–16 (F. Rausa). See Gasparri 2007, p. 11 and pp. 157–78. See Michel 1981b
and La Malfa 2010–11. In 1775, the year of this drawing, the palace had 180
inhabitants. See the list in Michel 1981a, p. 565. For a list of artists
residing in the palace see Michel 1981b, table between pp. 610–11. Rausa 2007b,
pp. 57–60. On Chays (often spelled differently, Chaÿs, Chais, Chaix) see:
Thieme- Becker 1907–50, vol. 6, p. 445; Benoît 1964; Toronto, Ottawa and
elsewhere 1972–73, pp. 143–44, no. 23; Paris 1989, pp. 268–69, no. 113 (J.-F.
Méjanès); Raspi Serra 1997. 22. Henry Fuseli (Zürich 1741–1825 London)
The Artist Moved by the Grandeur of Antique Fragments; The Right Hand and Left
Foot of the Colossus of Constantine c. 1778–79 Pen and sepia ink and wash, red
chalk, 420 × 352 mm Inscribed recto on the pedestal of the foot: ‘S.P.Q.R’,
followed by illegible characters and l.r. in pencil: ‘85 W. Blake’ (false
signature, perhaps 19th century) watermark: ‘ZP’ and the coat of arms of the
city of Zurich1 provenance: Susan Coutts, Countess of Guildford (1771–1837)
(her stamp on the verso2); Paul Hürlimann, from whom acquired in 1940. selected
literature: Irwin 1966, p. 47, pl. 32; Schiff 1973, vol. 1, pp. 115, 478–79,
no. 665, vol. 2, p. 145, fig. 665; Tomory 1972, pp. 49, 90, fig. 4; Füssli
1973, pp. 60–61, repr.; Schiff and Viotto 1980, pl. viii, no. D35 on p. 112;
Klemm 1986, no. 4; Lindsay 1986, pp. 483–84, fig. 1; Taylor 1987, p. 125,
repr.; Noch- lin 1994, pp. 7–8, fig. 1; Rossi Pinelli 1997, pp. 15, 18, repr.;
Bartels 2000, p. 23, note 2; Patz 2004, p. 271, fig. 3; Bungarten 2005, cover;
Pacini 2008, pp. 55–56, fig. 4; Valverde 2008, pp. 163–64, fig. 5; Trumble
2010, pp. 6–7, repr.; Barroero 2011, no. 22, repr.; Mongi-Vollmer 2013, p. 294,
fig. 127. selected exhibitions: Zurich 1941, no. 251; New York 1954, no. 31;
Zurich 1969, no. 165; Copenhagen 1973, p. 55, no. 21, not repr. (B. Jørnæs);
Hamburg 1974–75, p. 129, no. 45 (G. Schiff); London 1975, pp. 54–55, no. 10 (G.
Schiff ); Paris 1975, unpag., no. 10 (G. Schiff ); Milan 1977–78, pp. 19–20,
no. 6 (L. Vitali); Geneva 1978, p. 8, no. 3; Munich 1979–80, pp. 279–80, no.
154 (J. Gage); Tokyo 1983, pp. 62–63, no. 7 (G. Schiff ); Zurich 1984, pp. 49,
179, no. 25; Stockholm 1990, p. 33, no. 3 (G. Cavalli-Björkman and R. von
Holten); Stuttgart 1997–98, pp. 5–7, no. 10 (C. Becker); Zurich 2005, p. 256,
no. 1, frontispiece 2; Paris 2008, p. 120, no. 36 (B. von Waldkirch). The
Kunsthaus, Graphische Sammlung, Zürich, inv. no. 1940/144 exhibited in london
only This celebrated drawing is one of the most powerful images ever produced
on the relationship of the artist with the Antique. It presents a very
different response to classical antiquity from the many didactic compositions
shown in this catalogue, expressing the extremism and the Sturm und Drang that
imbued early Romanticism. The artist here confronts the Antique not as a source
of information or inspiration but on a deeper level: he meditates on the
grandeur of a lost past both as a philosopher, considering the fragility of the
human condition and, more powerfully still, as a creator in despair at his own inability
to match the achievements of classical antiquity. Fuseli’s evocative image
effectively summarises the dramatic change in the approach to the Antique which
took place in Rome in the late 18th century within a circle of anti-academic
and largely self-taught artists, such as Alexander Runciman (1736–85), John
Brown (1749–87), Tobias Sergel (1740–1814) and Thomas Banks (1735–1805), among
whom Fuseli was the most influential.3 For them the ancient sculptures were
alive, a tangible expression of the emotions and individuality of their
creators, rather than models of ideal beauty and proportional perfection. Born
Johann Heinrich Füssli in 1741 in Zurich into a fam- ily of artists, his
father, Caspar (1706–82), a painter and histo- rian, was one of the Swiss
correspondents of Anton Raphael Mengs (1728–79) and Johann Joachim Winckelmann
(1717– 68).4 Fuseli’s early education benefited from the teaching of Johann
Jakob Bodmer (1698–1783) and Johann Jakob Breitinger (1701–76), forerunners of
the literary and artistic movement Sturm und Drang, who introduced the young
artist to the study of Homer, Dante, Shakespeare, Milton and the
Niebelungenlied, decisively contributing to the eclecticism of his imaginative
sources. Fuseli moved to London in 1764 and soon became well acquainted with
the city’s lively cultural milieu and quickly acquired fame as a painter. In
1770, on the advice of Sir Joshua Reynolds (1723–92), Fuseli travelled to Rome.
He stayed there for eight years, with very few inter- ruptions, leaving in 1778.
After spending a few months in Zurich, he returned to London where he was
destined to spend the rest of his life. Elected academician at the Royal
Academy of Art in 1790 and Professor of Painting in 1799, Fuseli became one of
the most acclaimed artists of his generation; he died in the residence of the
Countess of Guilford, one of his patrons and previous owner of the pre- sent
drawing, in Putney Hill in south-west London, in 1825. The eight years Fuseli
spent in Rome were of great impor- tance for the development of his artistic
language and theory of art. Fascinated by the majestic relics of imperial Rome,
but even more impressed by Michelangelo’s masterpieces, Fuseli soon distanced
himself from the idealised and harmonious view of the Antique espoused in the
theoretical works of Gotthold Ephraim Lessing (1729–81) and of Winckelmann, who
had been murdered in Trieste two years before Fuseli arrived in Rome. This
death was symbolic for, although ini- tially a great enthusiast for
Winckelmann’s writings, some of which he translated into English, Fuseli became
one of his most radical detractors by asserting the importance of appreciating
the emotions and conflicts that ran through 180 181 ancient works of
art.5 As Fuseli stated many years later in the introduction to his Lectures on
Painting presented at the Royal Academy, German critics had taught the artist
‘to substitute the means for the end, and, by a hopeless chase after what they
call beauty, to lose what alone can make beauty interest- ing – expression and
mind’.6 ‘Expression animates, convulses, or absorbs form. The Apollo is
animated; the warrior of Agasias is agitated; the Laocoon is convulsed; the
Niobe is absorbed’. This is one of the Aphorisms on Art compiled by Fuseli in
the late 1780s, although it was first published only in 1831 by John Knowles in
his The Life and Writing of Henry Fuseli.7 These famous masterpieces of ancient
sculpture, the Apollo Belvedere, the Borghese Gladiator, the Laocoön and the
Niobe Medici, are not seen by Fuseli simply as the embodiment of a canon of
perfection, models to imitate, or points of reference in the academic education
of a young artist; they are treated as animated forms of the subjectivity of
the artists who created them and, ultimately, of their ways of expressing
feeling and emotion.8 Fuseli’s many studies after the Antique are never an end
in themselves, they are rather means of expression and, because of that,
ancient statues can be adapted, distorted, even desecrated by him.9 A
homosexual scene depicted on an ancient Greek red-figured vase can become the
model for a Shakespearean composition showing the King of Denmark poisoned by
his brother in his sleep.10 Likewise, one of the Horse Tamers on the Quirinal
Hill (see p. 22, fig. 10), reproduced and adapted many times by Fuseli, can be
turned into Odin receiving the Prophecy of Balder’s Death.11 If Winckelmann
praised the Laocoön for his dignified grandeur,12 in two of his late sketches
Fuseli transformed the Trojan priest into the object of a courtesan’s sexual
desire.13 Even the famous Nightmare (1781),14 one of the most disquieting
compositions ever created by Fuseli, still retains memories of the Antique,
from the devilish head of the horse peeping out of the curtain, so like those
of the Quirinal horses, to the reclining figure in which one can recognise a
transposition of the celebrated Cleopatra in the Belvedere Court (see p. 26,
fig. 20).15 The Artist Moved by the Grandeur of Antique Fragments per- fectly
embodies the artist’s revolutionary approach to the Antique. Although no doubt
based on sketches made on the spot, and using a technique, sepia ink and wash,
often used by Fuseli in Rome, the watermark with the coat of arms of the city
of Zurich suggests that the drawing was made during or soon after his brief
stay in his home town after he left Rome in 1778.16 The drawing shows a
scantily clad figure seated on a block dwarfed by two adjacent marble
fragments, the left foot and the right hand of a gigantic statue set on plinths
before a wall composed of majestic, square blocks.17 The pose of the artist,
loosely inspired by Michelangelo’s Ancestors of Christ on the Sistine Ceiling,
is deeply expressive; he cradles his head in deep grief and anguish, and his
mood, with his legs casually and unguardedly crossed, is one of total
surrender; the forlornness is enhanced by the wild weed that audaciously pushes
its way up against the colossal marble hand. The antique fragments are easily
recognisable as the left foot and the right hand of a colossal statue of the emperor
Constantine the Great (r. 306–37 ad; figs 1–2) which were found in the west
apse of the Basilica of Maxentius in 1486 under the papacy of Innocent VIII (r.
1481–92) along with other fragments including the head (fig. 3) and the right
foot. By Fuseli’s time they could be admired in the courtyard of the Palazzo
dei Conservatori on the Capitoline hill, where they are still preserved
today.18 The monumental scale of these fragments fascinated generations of
artists from the Renaissance onwards, but they became increasingly a focus of
attention in the 17th and Fig. 1. Colossal Statue of Constantine the Great:
Right Hand, 313–24 ad, Luna marble, 166 cm (h), Capitoline Museums, Courtyard
of the Palazzo dei Conservatori, Rome, inv. MC0786 Fig. 2. Colossal Statue of
Constantine the Great: Left Foot, 313–324 ad, Parian marble, 120 cm (h),
Capitoline Museums, Courtyard of the Palazzo dei Conservatori, Rome, inv.
MC0798 Fig. 3. Colossal Statue of Constantine the Great: Head, 313–24 ad,
marble, 260 cm (h), Capitoline Museums, Courtyard of the Palazzo dei
Conservatori, Rome, inv. MC0757 in the drawing (‘S.P.Q.R.’) can actually be
found on the pedestal supporting the right foot and not the left one, as Fuseli
represents it here. The detail, however, is not irrelevant, since it is part of
the inscription, commemorating a restoration of the fragments promoted by Pope
Urban VIII (r. 1623–44) in 1635 and 1636, so that one can read a clear
reference to the awe inspired by the greatness of the ‘Res Romana’.22 Awe of
the Antique is expressed in the drawing by the contrast between the muscular
fragments of the colossus and the diminutive, frail and almost abstract figure,
who can be interpreted both as a personification of a modern man in general and
as a symbolic self-portrait of the artist – ‘Füssli’ in German means ‘little
foot’, thus suggesting a visual word- play.23 However, the title of the drawing
given by Gert Schiff, The Artist Moved by the Grandeur of Antique Fragments,
captures only one aspect of the composition, that is, the feeling of artistic
and intellectual inadequacy before the sublime Past.24 Possibly, even the
inconsistent perspective of the pedestal of the foot was consciously introduced
to express the artistic inferiority of the moderns compared to the ancients.
But the pose, which recurs many times in Fuseli’s works, can convey at the same
time other meanings.25 It could cause a deep Fig. 5. Hubert Robert, Ancient
Sculptures of the Capitoline, red chalk, 442 × 330 mm, Staatliche Museen,
Kunstbibliothek, Berlin, Inv. Hdz 3076 18th centuries: two wanderers are
shown among the colossal ruins in a drawing by Stefano della Bella (1610–64;
fig. 4),19 while the foot and hand appear in an evocative capriccio by Hubert
Robert (1733–1808; fig. 5).20 As in their studies, Fuseli’s drawing shows the
base sustaining the colossal upward pointing right hand on the pedestal
supporting the left foot; only in the early 19th century was the hand moved to
its present location along the wall of the courtyard. Fuseli, however, modifies
the disposition of the fragments in order to create a perfect triangle, whose
apex coincides with the index finger of the hand, pointing authoritatively
upward. The fact that the drawing was made when Fuseli had already left Rome
may account for a few inconsistencies, such as swapping the right foot – flat
on the ground – and the left foot – with the heel slightly raised and set on a
support.21 Moreover, the first line of the inscription roughly transcribed Fig.
4. Stefano della Bella, Courtyard of the Palazzo dei Conservatori, after 1659,
pen and grey ink and grey wash, 152 × 194 mm, Istituto Nazionale per la
Grafica, Rome, inv. FC 126001 182 183 sense of loss
before the dismembered statue as well as a melancholic frustration at the
impossibility of achieving a whole, satisfactory knowledge of the ancient
world. Finally this evocative image is clearly a grim meditation on human
Vanitas, on the cruelty of time and its inevitability, capable of destroying
even the most impressive human creations.26 In his vision of antiquity Fuseli
was following in the footsteps of Giovanni Battista Piranesi (1720–78), the
great engraver of ancient Rome, who populated his images with similar figures
dwarfed and seemingly lost among the colossal remains of Rome’s decaying
statues and buildings. Piranesi’s ancient ruins, the gigantic stones of which
fill his modern onlookers with wonder, are evoked by Fuseli in the massive
blocks of the background wall, which are not part of the courtyard of the
Palazzo dei Conservatori. Piranesi died in 1778, the year that Fuseli left Rome
for Zurich where he created this harrowing memory of the city he had just left
behind him. Could the present drawing be a posthumous homage to the great
Italian artist, with whom Fuseli shared the same inventive, original and
imaginative vision of the Antique? aa & ed 1 Schiff 1973, p. 479. 2 Ibid.,
p. 479. 3 See Pressly 1979; Valverde 2008; Busch 2013. 4 For Fuseli’s biography
see Tomory 1972, pp. 9–46; Schiff 1973, vol. 1; Zurich 2005, pp. 13–31. 5 See
Pucci 2000b and Busch 2009. During his London years between 1764 and 1770,
Fuseli translated into English Winckelmann’s Beschreibung des Torso del
Belvedere Zu Rom (1764, translated as Description of the Torso Belvedere in
Rome in 1765) and the Gedanken über die Nachahmung der griechischen Werke in
der Malerei Und Bildhauerkunst (1755, translated as Reflections on the Painting
and the Sculpture of the Greeks in 1765). 6 See Wornum 1848, p. 345. On
Fuseli’s Lectures see in particular Bungarten 2005. 7 Knowles 1831, vol. 3, p.
90, aphorism no. 88. 8 For these statues see respectively p. 26, fig. 18; p.
41, fig. 54; p. 26, fig. 19; p. 30, fig. 34. 9 For a checklist of Fuseli’s
drawings of ancient sculptures see Schiff 1973, vol. 1, pp. 475–79, nos 634–65.
10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 Schiff 1973, vol. 1, p. 450,
no. 445 (dated 1771); the ancient scene is taken from D’Hancarville 1766–67,
vol. 2, pl. 32. Schiff 1973, pp. 456–57, nos 485 and 487 (c. 1776). See in
particular Winckelmann 2002, pp. 674, 676 (original pagination pp. 347–49). See
also Appendix, no. 15. Schiff 1973, vol. 1, p. 547, nos 1072 and 1072a
(1801–05). Schiff 1973, vol. 1, p. 496, no. 757. See Powell 1973, pp. 67–75.
See in particular Waldkirch 2005, pp. 63–78. For a drawing showing a figure in
a similar attire see Schiff 1973, vol. 1, p. 476, no. 561 (1777–79); and for
one with similar blocks in the background ibid., vol. 1, p. 447, no. 425. For
the right hand and the left foot see Stuart Jones 1926, p. 11, no. 13, pl. 5 (hand),
pp. 13–14, no. 21, pl. 5 (foot). For a discussion on the original colos- sal
statue see Fittschen and Zanker 1985, pp. 147–52, pls 151–52; Deckers 2005;
Parisi Presicce 2007 (in particular for the history of the display); Bardill
2012, pp. 203–17. The provenance of the colossus from the Basilica is testified
to by a caption on a drawing by Francesco di Giorgio Martini (1439–1501)
(Morgan Library & Museum, New York, Codex Mellon, fol. 54r), see Buddensieg
1962; http://census.bbaw.de/easydb/censusID= 233951. See Paris 2000–01, p. 371
no. 176 (J.-P. Cuzin); Rome 2004, p. 346, no. 46 (V. Di Piazza); another
similar drawing is in the Louvre, see Viatte 1974, p. 63 no. 46, p. 65, fig.
46. See Berckenhagen 1970, p. 332; Paris 2000–01, p. 374, no. 180 (J.-P.
Cuzin). These details are clearly rendered on the drawings by Della Bella and
Robert. Bartels 2000, p. 23 no. 1.7: ‘S(enatus) P(opulus) Q(ue) R(omanus)/
APOLLINIS COLOSSUM A M(arco) LUCULLO/ COLLOCATUM IN CAPITOLIO/DEIN TEMPORE AC
VI SUBLATUM EX OCULIS/ TU TIBI UT ANIMO REPRAESENTES PEDEM VIDE/ET ROMANAE REI
MAGNITUDINEM METIRE’. (‘The Senate and the People of Rome; that you may bring
before your mind’s eye the colossal statue of Apollo set by Marcus Lucullus on
the Capitol Hill, later removed from sight by the violence of time; look at
this foot and be aware of the greatness of Rome’: translation Eloisa Dodero).
Lindsay 1986, p. 483. Schiff 1973, vol. 1, pp. 115, 478–79, no. 665, vol. 2, p.
145, fig. 665. The pose finds parallels in other works by Fuseli chiefly
illustrating mourn- ful scenes, such as the painting showing Milton Dreaming of
His Dead Wife Catherine (1799–1800): Schiff 1973, vol. 1, pp. 523–24, no. 920;
Zurich 2005, p. 223, no. 184. Remarkable is the closeness of Fuseli’s figure
with the famous Democritus by Salvator Rosa (Statens Museum, Copehangen; see
Scott 1995, p. 97, fig. 101; the composition was known also through a number of
etchings, see for instance Naples 2008, p. 281, no. 8). The philosopher in
Rosa’s composition is shown deep in thought and surrounded by several symbols
of mortality including antiquities; the caption on the etchings describes the
scene as ‘Democritus omnium derisor/in omnium fine defigitur’ (‘Democritus, who
used to laugh about everything, here meditates on the end of every- thing’).
23. Philippe Joseph Tassaert (Antwerp 1732–1803 London) A Drawing Academy 1764
Pen and black ink, grey and black wash drawn with the brush over black chalk,
331 × 309 mm provenance: Private collection, Vienna; Gallery Kekko, Lucerne, 2004,
from whom acquired. literature:None. exhibitions: Brussels 2004, pp. 75–76,
repr.; London 2007–08, no. 59, not repr. Katrin Bellinger collection, inv. no.
2004-004 Although Tassaert was born in Flanders, he moved at a young age to
London where he trained with the expatriate Flemish drapery painter, Joseph van
Aken (c. 1699–1749), and where he established his career; aside from occasional
trips to the continent, Tassaert remained in London until his death.1 Van Aken
had a large practice executing draperies for most of the major British portrait
painters active during the 1730s and 1740s, and after his death, Tassaert seems
to have followed his example, assisting especially the portrait painter, Thomas
Hudson (1701–79). In 1769, Tassaert joined the Society of Artists of Great
Britain and served as its presi- dent from 1775–77; he exhibited with the
Society until 1785.2 Also active as a dealer and picture restorer, Tassaert
worked as an agent for the auctioneer, James Christie (1730–1803), valuing
paintings in French and English collections, includ- ing that of Sir Robert
Walpole at Houghton Hall, for sale to Catherine the Great in 1779.3 He later
moved for a period to Italy, residing in Rome between 1785 and 1790.4 As a
mezzotinter, Tassaert reproduced many composi- tions after earlier painters,
especially those by Peter Paul Rubens (1577–1640). The present drawing – a
relatively rare survival compared with his production of prints – shows young
students, dressed in the costumes of Rubens’ era, sketching a reduced model of
the Borghese Gladiator (fig. 1), illuminated by candlelight from above.5 Two
instructors, including the imposing figure of Rubens him-self in the doorway on
the right, inspect drawings made by two pupils who await their verdict. Casts
of busts and statuettes are placed on the shelf above the lamp, as seen in
artists’ work- shops from the Renaissance onwards (see cats 2, 10, 14).6 The
present drawing is closely related to another, rather larger and more loosely
executed, representation of an academy by Tassaert now in the British Museum
(fig. 2), that is observed from a closer viewpoint and is horizontal rather
than vertical in format.7 Rendered in warm brown instead of grey ink, the
British Museum drawing focuses on the group clustered around the sculpture on
the left. The master, in the doorway in our drawing, now leans against a chair
gesturing towards the sculpture and the copy of it made by one of the pupils.
But that student, seen in left profile studying the Gladiator intently, remains
essentially unchanged in both sheets. The British Museum drawing is signed and
dated, ‘Tassaert. del Bruxelles. 1764’, and the Bellinger drawing was no doubt
made at the same time. Both were probably made in preparation for a painting,
now lost, but described in a 1774 review of the Society of Artists’ exhibition
at the Strand in London: ‘Mr. TASSAERT, Director, F.S.A. [ . . .] 285. An
academy with youth’s [sic] at study. -Yellow shaded with black, has a starved
effect’, a description which suggests that it may have been monochrome. 8 A
keen admirer and copyist of Rubens’ work, Tassaert clearly intended to evoke
the atmosphere of the master’s studio. A drawing by Tassaert, ‘Rubens
instructing his pupils’ Fig. 1. Agasias of Ephesus, Borghese Gladiator, c. 100
bc, marble, 199 cm (h), Louvre, Paris, inv. Ma 527 184 185
Fig. 2. Philippe Joseph Tassaert, A Drawing Academy, 1764, pen and brown ink
and brown wash over black chalk, 330 × 406 mm, The British Museum, Department
of Prints and Drawings, London, 2003,1129.1 which was sold in London in 1785
was probably one of the two drawings under consideration.9 The master in both
is physiognomically identical, and wears the wide-brimmed hat and voluminous
cloak seen in Rubens’ mature self-portraits, such as that of 1623 in the Royal
collection, Windsor Castle, an image widely disseminated through engravings.10
Another self-portrait,showingtheartistatsixty,intheKunsthistorisches Museum,
Vienna (1633–35), may also have been known to Tassaert through prints.11 No
doubt Tassaert’s drawings and the lost painting for which they presumably
prepared, were intended to commemorate the fact that Rubens’ studio in Antwerp,
founded on his return from Italy in 1608, was one of the first in Northern
Europe to be organised on the ‘academic’ Italian model. Ruben’s studio – much
more than a workshop – encouraged the intellectual as well as practical
ambitions of young artists, who vied with each other to become his pupils. The
purpose of Tassaert’s lost painting is not certain, but one possibility is that
he intended to present it to the recently revamped Brussels art school. It may
be significant that Tassaert, who hailed from Antwerp (where he became a member
of the Guild of St Luke in 1756), signed the British Museum drawing ‘Tassaert.
del Bruxelles’, and dated it, 1764, the year the Brussels school began to
flourish under new stewardship.12 Reportedly discovered in Nettuno in 1611, the
Borghese Gladiator, signed by Agasias of Ephesus, is thought to copy a statue
of the school of Lysippus.13 It was acquired by Cardinal Scipione Borghese
(1576–1633), and between 1650 and 1807, was displayed in a room bearing its
name on the ground floor of the Casino Borghese before it was sold to
Napoleon.14 The statue was keenly admired by artists from the mid-17th century
onwards as it embodied the male nude in an active, heroic and resolute pose.
François Perrier (1590–1650) ranked it among the finest statues in Rome and
published four views of it in his influential collection of etching after antique
sculpture (Segmenta nobilium signorum et statuarum . . . , Paris, 1638, pls.
26–29), more than he devoted to any other figure. Casts of it were made for
Philip IV of Spain and for the Académie Royale in Paris (see cat. 16) and the
Académie de France in Rome.15 It became a standard presence in artists’ manuals
from the 17th century onwards, as the perfection of its anatomy and proportions
made it an ideal model for young pupils to copy. Its fame endured well into the
18th century as many of the objects in this catalogue make clear (cats 16, 24,
26).16 Rubens, who was thirty-four when the statue was found, revered it
greatly. Although his two Roman sojourns (1601– 02 and 1600–08) pre-date its
discovery in 1611, he certainly knew the statue through copies and probably
owned a cast of it.17 That plaster casts came to be widely used in Northern
workshops of the period is shown in the 1635 and 1656 studio inventories of
Rubens’ contemporary, Hendrik van Balen (1575–1632) and of Rembrandt (1606–69)
and by the many paintings that depict artists making copies of them (see p. 40,
figs 49–53 and cat. 14).18 Rubens’ deep interest in antique sculpture, which he
collected enthusiastically, is well-documented.19 In one of his theoretical
notebooks, De Imitatione Statuarum (‘On the Imitation of Ancient Statues’),
recording his observations from 1600 to 1610 on the proportions of the human
form, symmetry, perspective, anatomy and architecture, he defined canonical
male body types of the first rank: the strongest and most robust, the Farnese
Hercules (see cats 7, 14, 16, 21); the less muscular and fleshy, Commodus in
the Guise of Hercules and the River Nile (see cat. 5) and the third, lean and
slender, with prominent bones and a longer face, the Borghese Gladiator, which
he analysed in a diagram.20 Finally, there was the slim and handsome type, less
strong, among which statues of Apollo and Mercury were classed.21 Rubens
referred to the Gladiator again in another of his notebooks and he adapted it
in some of his paintings, such as the Mercury and Argus of 1636–37 (Prado,
Madrid) where Mercury in a pose strongly reminiscent of the Gladiator, is about
to behead the multi-eyed giant.22 Although Tassaert would not have known
Rubens’ manuscript, parts of it were published in 1708 by Roger de Piles in his
Cours de peinture par principles, translated into English in 1743 as The
Principles of Painting (see Appendix, no. 8).23 Within twenty years of its
discovery, casts of the Borghese Gladiator were commissioned by Charles I and
other English patrons and it soon became one of the most celebrated 186
187 antique sculptures in the British Isles.24 By the 18th century,
copies of it had becoming a mainstay of country house collections.25 Joseph
Wright of Derby (1734–1797) depicted a reduced model of the Gladiator studied
by candlelight (private collection; see cat. 24, fig. 2), exhibiting it at the
Society of Artists in 1765, just a year after Tassaert’s drawings and William
Pether made a mezzotint after Wright’s painting in 1769.26 When Tassaert showed
his painting of a similar subject, probably based on his earlier studies, at
the same venue in 1774 he may have been responding to the challenge of his
English colleagues, particularly the fellow mezzotinter, Pether.27 Indeed, it
is tempting to suppose that Tassaert, by exhibiting the finished painting, was
asserting the suprem- acy of Flemish academies over the English ones by
establish- ing that the sculpture was well-known and used as a teaching tool
already in Rubens’ time. As will be seen later (see cats 24–26), study after
plaster casts increasingly became an indispensible part of artistic training in
the English Academies as the 18th century progressed. It is especially
significant in the present context that the catalogue of the posthumous sale of
the effects of Tassaert’s master, Joseph Van Aken, in 1751 in London, lists no
fewer than sixty models in terracotta and plaster after the Antique, among
them, the Laocoön, the Farnese Hercules, heads of Antinous and, significantly,
two Gladiators.28 It is well known that antique models were widely diffused in
England in the first half of the 18th century, well before the foundation of
the Royal Academy in 1768 (see cat. 25), but Van Aken’s collection and
Tassaert’s preoccupations suggest that interest in the Antique had a
particularly Flemish dimension. Of course, such models served a vital role for
artists in helping to achieve an idealised representation of the anatomy, poses
and expressions of the human body, but also, as in the case of Van Aken, they
could act as lay-figures for the arrangement of drapery.29 avl 1 For brief
accounts of Tassaert’s life and work, see Edwards 1808, who, on pp. 282–83,
asserts that Tassaert was ‘the scholar’ of van Aken; Redgrave 1874, vol. 2, p.
402; Wurzbach 1906–11, vol. 2, pp. 689–90; Thieme-Becker 1907–50, vol, 32, p.
456; Bénézit 2006, vol. 13, pp. 708–09; Wallens 2010, p. 328. Edwards (1808, p.
282) reports his association with van Aken though the latter had already moved
to London in 1720, before Tassaert was born. They probably met there though he
was only about seventeen when van Aken died. According to Bénézit (2006, p.
708), Tassaert was the brother of the sculptor, Jean Pierre Antoine Tassaert
(1727–1788). 2 For his involvement with the Society (and disagreements with),
see Hargraves 2005, pp. 141–43, 152–53, 158–72. His paintings were shown also
at the Royal Academy. 3 He is listed frequently as buyer/seller in Christie’s
sale catalogues of c. 1779– 82 (see Kerslake 1977, vol. 1, p. 337). For
Tassaert at Houghton, see Twist 2008, p. 106–07. 4 Wallens. For his engravings,
see Le Blanc 1854–88, vol. 4, p. 9; Wurzbach 1906–11, vol. 2, pp. 689–90; Smith
1878–83, vol. 3, pp. 1354–56. A further drawing by Tassaert of an artist’s
studio, but with figures in contemporary dress, is in Tate Britain, from the Oppé
collection, black chalk on blue paper, 490 × 317 mm, inv. no. T09847. They may
also be seen lightly sketched at upper right in Tassaert’s drawing of an
artist’s studio in the Tate (see note 5 above). Lock 2010, p. 255, fig. 12.4;
Phillips 2013, p. 127, fig. 5. ‘Conclusion of the Account of the Pictures now
exhibiting at the Artist’s [sic] great Room near Exeter Exchange, Strand’,
published in The Middlesex Journal, 30 April – 3 May 1774, p. 2 (as noted by
Elizabeth Barker, under inv. no. 2003,1129.1, British Museum collection
database). The same subject painted by Tassaert, probably more than once, is
listed in several Christie’s sales in London between 1805–12: 1805 (1–2 March,
lot 69, seller: John Mayhew; unsold; 14–15 June, lot 40, seller: John Mayhew;
unsold); 1806 (7–8 March, lot 33, seller: John Mayhew; unsold); 1808 (11–12
March, lot 18, seller: Adam Callander; unsold; 14 May, lot 33, seller: Rev.
Philip Duval; bought by Daubuz); 1809 (17–18 November, lot 65, seller: Adam
Callander; bought by J. F. Tuffen) and 1812 (22 May, lot 44, seller: John
Mayhew; unsold; 18–19 December, lot 80, seller: John Mayhew; bought by J. F.
Tuffen). Source: Getty Provenance Index. Jean-Baptiste-Guillaume de Gevigney,
his sale, Greenwood, London, 14–15 April 1785, lot 44. Presumably the same
drawing was sold two years later: ‘An academy by Tassaert, washed in bisque,
fine’, Greenwood, London, 14–15 March 1787, lot 29 to John Thomas Smith for
£1.0. Jaffé 1989, p. 281, no. 764. Ibid., p. 371, no. 1379. Between 1764 and
1768, the school was revitalized under Count Charles Cobenzl (Phillips 2013,
pp. 127–28). Paris 2000–01, no. 1, pp. 150–51 (L. Laugier); Pasquier 2000-01b.
Haskell and Penny 1981, p. 221; Laugier 2000–01. See also Aymonino’s essay in
this catalogue, p. 41. Haskell and Penny 1981, p. 221. Ibid., pp. 221–24, no.
43, fig. 115. For Rubens’ study of sculpture in Roman collections, see Van der
Meulen 1994-95, vol. 1, pp. 41–68. For van Balen’s inventory, see Duverger
1984–2009, vol. 4, pp. 200–11. Among the casts listed are the Laocoön,
Hercules, Apollo, Athena and Mercury (ibid., p. 208). Rembrandt’s 1656
bankruptcy inventory (Strauss and Van der Meulen 1979, pp. 349–88) mentions
several plaster casts from life, including hands, heads and arms (ibid., pp.
365, 383), and after the antique (‘A plaster cast of a Greek antique’ (Een
pleijster gietsel van een Griecks anticq), p. 383, no. 323). Also mentioned are
antique statues of unspecified medium, including a Faustina, Galba, Laocoön,
Vitellius (ibid., pp. 365, nos 166, 168; 385, nos 329, 331) and several others.
For Rembrandt’s use of statues, casts and models, see Gyllenhaal 2008. For his
collection, see Muller 1989, Appendix C, pp. 82–87 and Muller 2004, especially,
pp. 18–23. The Johnson manuscript (manuscript transcript of the Rubens
Pocketbook), mid-18th century, Courtauld Gallery, London, MS.1978.PG.1, fols
4v-5r, cited in Muller 2004, p. 19. See also Muller 1982, pp. 235–36 and Van
der Meulen 1994–95, vol. 1, pp. 72–73. Van der Meulen 1994–95, vol. 1, p. 73.
Ms de Ganay (formerly Paris, Marquis de Ganay), fols 22r–23r, transcribed and
translated in Van der Meulen 1994–95, vol. 1, pp. 254–58. In addition to the
Madrid painting (Georgievska-Shine and Silver 2014, p. 136, fig. 5.3), the pose
of the sculpture was utilised in other drawn and painted composi- tions by the
artist (Van der Meulen 1994–95, vol. 1, p. 239, note 9). De Piles 1708, pp.
139–48; De Piles 1743, pp. 86–92. . Haskell and Penny 1981, p. 221. However,
due to the demand for casts the Borghese tried to stop moulds from being made
(Haskell and Penny 1981, p. 221). Liverpool 2007, p. 132, no. 10; Clayton 1990,
p. 236, no. 154, P3. Tassaert and Pether, both members of the Society of
Artists, had a disagree- ment over the latter’s proposed exhibition fee for
fellows (Hargraves 2005, pp. 141–42). Landford’s, London, 11–25 February 1751,
among lots 1–77. It has been suggested that Rembrandt worked from draped
plaster casts, especially during his Leiden years (Gyllenhaal 2008, p. 51). 24.
William Pether (Carlisle 1731–1821 Bristol) after Joseph Wright of Derby (Derby
1734–1797 Derby) An Academy 1772 Mezzotint, 579 × 458 mm Inscribed l.l.:
‘Iosh., Wright, Pinxt.’; and l.r.: ‘W. Pether, Fecit.’; on the boy’s portfolio
in the centre: ‘An / Academy / Published by W Pether, / Feby, 25th / 1772’; td
and l.c., at the foot of the seated artist: ‘Done from a Picture in / the
Collection of the R . Hon. / L . Melburne.’ provenance: The Hon. Christopher
Lennox-Boyd (1941–2012), from whom acquired by the British Museum in 2010.
literature: Chaloner Smith 1883, vol. 2, p. 46, not repr.; Clayton 1990, p.
240, no. 159, P9, this impression listed under II, not repr.; Liverpool 2007,
pp. 159–62, no. 33. exhibitions: Not previously exhibited. The British Museum,
Department of Prints and Drawings, London, 2010,7081.2228 In 1769 Joseph Wright
of Derby exhibited An Academy by Lamplight (private collection) at the Society
of Artists in London.1 The painting depicted six young boys drawing from casts
of antique sculpture in a vaulted space lit only by a concealed lamp. Wright
repeated the composition the following year for his patron, Peniston Lamb, 1st
Viscount Melbourne (Yale Center for British Art, fig. 1) and it was from this
second version that William Pether took the present mezzotint, renamed simply
An Academy, published in its first state in February 1772.2 The subject-matter
is related to Wright’s earlier painting, Three Persons Viewing the Gladiator by
Candlelight (private collection, fig. 2),3 but, by showing a group of students
at work, addresses more directly the theme of education by studying casts of
antique sculpture by candlelight. Artistic education was of paramount
importance to Wright. In December of 1769, the year he settled in Liverpool,
twenty-two men in the burgeoning city formed a Society of Artists that gathered
at a member’s house to make drawings from a substantial collection of prints
and, more signifi- cantly, thirty-five plaster casts.4 These casts had been
pur- chased from John Flaxman senior, a plaster-cast salesman in Covent Garden,
for £8.8.3, and were intended specifically for furnishing an academy.5 While
Wright is not listed as a member of the Society of Artists, his friend, the
engraver Peter Perez Burdett (c. 1735–93), was its first President and Wright’s
landlord in Liverpool, Richard Tate (1736–87), was an amateur painter who
showed works at the Society’s first public exhibition in 1774, so he was
certainly aware of the group’s aspirations. Wright seems also to have had at
least one student in Liverpool, Richard Tate’s brother, William, who was
described by Wright in a letter in 1773 as ‘a pupil of mine’.6 Artistic
education would therefore have been a pressing concern when he was conceiving
An Academy by Lamplight. Wright no doubt encouraged William Tate to take the
same route that he had followed as a pupil of Thomas Hudson (1701–79): first
copying drawings by accomplished masters (which for Tate would have included
works by Wright him- self) as well as prints, before moving to the study of
plaster casts and, ultimately, the life model.7 In 1774 Tate exhibited ‘Venus
with a Shell, a drawing in black chalk’ at the first Fig. 1. Joseph Wright of
Derby, An Academy by Lamplight, 1770, oil on canvas, 127 × 101 cm, Yale Center
for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection, New Haven, inv. B1973.1.66 Fig. 2.
Joseph Wright of Derby, Three Persons Viewing the Gladiator by Candlelight,
1765, oil on canvas, 101.6 × 121.9 cm, private collection 188
189 Liverpool Society of Artists exhibition, and a sheet in the Derby
Museum and Art Gallery of this subject has been recently been identified as
Tate’s drawing.8 This title of that drawing is highly suggestive as it is pre-
cisely the so-called Nymph with a Shell that the students are shown drawing in
Wright’s painting and Pether’s mezzotint. Housed in the Borghese collection
during the 18th century, the sculpture is now in the Louvre (fig. 3).9 While a
cast of this statue is not listed among those purchased by the Liverpool
Society of Artists, one was probably owned by Wright himself. The other statue
shown in the background on the right is the familiar Borghese Gladiator (see p.
41, fig. 54 and cat. 23) – the sculpture being studied in Wright’s earlier
Three Persons Viewing the Gladiator by Candlelight (fig. 2). Wright’s
composition depicts young students in different attitudes, some at work drawing
the Nymph, which is illumi- nated by a hanging lamp, from varying angles, while
others merely admire her. Wright has created an ideal representation of an
academy of young men, precisely the environment which his contemporaries were
attempting to create in Liverpool. The students’ visible drawings are in black
chalk similar to Wright’s own and those of his ‘pupil’, Tate. The varying ages of
the students, from young boys to young men, also suggests an ideal academic
establishment. The date of the work has further resonance: 1769 was the year
after the foundation of the Royal Academy in London, where a precise programme
of artistic education, which included drawing from antique sculpture, was being
formulated (see cat. 25). The composition continues a theme Wright addressed in
Three Persons Viewing the Gladiator by Candlelight (fig. 2), the first painting
he exhibited in London, showing it at the Society of Artists in 1765. Such was
its popularity that Pether produced a mezzotint of it in 1769 and we can
suppose that our Fig. 3. Nymph with the Shell, Roman copy of the 1st century ad
after a Hellenistic type of the 2nd century bc, marble, 60 cm (h), Louvre,
Paris, inv. MR 309-N 247 (Ma 18) mezzotint, published three years later, was
conceived as a pendant.10 Wright’s Three Persons Viewing the Gladiator by
Candlelight depicts three men – traditionally identified as Wright himself,
Peter Perez Burdett (c. 1735–93) and John Wilton – comparing a reduced model of
the Borghese Gladiator with a drawn copy of it in black chalk. We know Wright
made drawings of the sculpture; and a study in pen and brown ink on brown paper
by him is preserved at Derby.11 Dating from before his journey to Italy, it
seems likely to have been made from a reduced model. Whilst there is no
evidence that Wright owned a model of the Gladiator, it seems likely that he
did: reduced models of it appear in numerous artists’ sales during the 18th
century and they were also readily available in Derby at the time.12 Viewing
and drawing sculpture by candle-light was a feature of many European academies
as for example those of Bandinelli and Tassaert (see cats 1 and 23).13 This was
intended to emphasise the contrast of the sculpture’s anatomy and facilitate
its copy. There were many perceived artistic benefits in owning models. William
Hogarth noted in his Apology for Painters: ‘the little casts of the gladiator
the Laocoon or the venus etc. if true copies – are still better than the large
as the parts are exactly the same [–] the eye [can] comprehend them with most
ease and they are more handy to place and turn about’.14 It therefore seems
likely that Wright’s picture depicts an evening viewing of his own cast.
Burdett was an amateur draughtsman and printmaker, and the comparison between
Wright’s own drawing and the model is the probable topic of their conversation.
This was the theme that Wright developed more fully in An Academy. Liverpool
2007, p. 159, no. 31. For Yale version of the painting ibid., p. 159, no. 32.
Nicolson 1968, vol. 1, p. 234, no. 188; London 1990, pp. 61–63, no. 22;
Liverpool 2007, p. 132, no. 10. For a discussion of the foundation of the
Society of Artists and a list of the casts it acquired see Mayer 1876, pp.
67–69. Ibid., p. 5. Joseph Wright to William Thompson, Derby 25 March, 1773, in
Barker 2009, p. 72. Wright’s work in Hudson’s studio is remarkably well
documented in an archive of his drawings as a student preserved in Derby Museum
and Art Gallery: see Derby 1997, pp. 49–65. Liverpool 2007, p. 162, no. 34. For
the relationship between Tate, Wright and the Liverpool Society of Artists see
Barker 2003, pp. 265–74. For the Nymph with the Shell see Haskell and Penny
1981, pp. 281–82, no. 67; Rome 2000b, vol. 2, p. 335, no. 10 (F. Rausa);
Gaborit and Martinez 2000–01; Paris 2000–01, pp. 327–28, no. 147 (J.-L.
Martinez); Rome 2011–12, pp. 402–05 (I. Petrucci, M.-L. Fabréga-Dubert, J.-L.
Martinez). Clayton 1990, p. 236, no. 154, P3. Derby 1997, p. 88, no. 152. An
Italian plaster-modeller based in Oxford, ‘Mr Campione’ is recorded selling: ‘a
large and curious collection of statues, modelled from the Antiques of Italy
... in fine plaister paris work’ in the Red Lion in Derby. See Barker 2003, p.
25. On this see Roman 1984, p. 83. See also cat. 1, p. 80, note 8. Kitson
1966–68, p. 86. 190 191 25. Edward Francis Burney (Worcester
1760–1848 London) The Antique Academy at Old Somerset House 1779 Pen and grey
ink with watercolour wash, 335 × 485 mm Signed recto, on the portfolio depicted
in the drawing at l.c., in pen and black ink: ‘E.F.B. 1779’; and inscribed
verso, in pen and black ink, with a key identifying the casts and objects shown
on recto, numbered 1–43: ‘View of the Plaister Room in the Royal Academy old
Somerset House / 1. Cincinnatus / 2. Apollo Belvedere / 3. Meleager / 4. Biting
Boy / 5. Foot of the Laocoon / 6. Arm of M. Angelo’s Moses / 7. Paris / 8. Faun
/ 9 Anatomy of a Horse / 10. Head of Antinous / 11. A young Orator by M. Angelo
/ 12. Antoninus Pius / 13. Bacchus / 14. Pompey / 15. Alexander / 16. Model of
a Cow / 17. Agrippa / 18. Nero / 19. Augustus / 20. Cicero / 21 Other Roman
Emperors / 22. Door of Mr Mosers little Room / 23. Heads. Casts from Trajans
pillar / 24. Table for Drawing Hands Heads etc. on / 25. Screens to prevent
Double Lights / 26. Modelers stands / 27. Large chalk Drawing of the Virgin
etc. by Leon: da Vinci / 28. Homer / 29. Laocoon / 30. Esculapius / 31.
Proserpine / 32. Carracalla / 33. Mithridates / 34. Bacchus / 35. Antinous /
36. River Gods from M. Angelo / 37. Boys by Fiamingo / 38. Dying Gladiator /
39. Lamps for lighting the figures in Winter / 40. Antique Bass Relieves / 41.
Laughing Boys / 42. Head of a Wolf / 43. Legs cast from nature etc. etc. etc.’
provenance: From an album of drawings in the possession of the Burney family;
P. & D. Colnaghi, London, from whom acquired 5 July 1960. literature: Byam
Shaw 1962, pp. 212–15, figs 54–55; Hutchison 1986, p. 192, fig. 27; Wilton 1987,
p. 26, fig. 25; Rossi Pinelli 1988, p. 255, fig. 4; Nottingham and London 1991,
p. 63, under no. 39, fig. 3; Fenton 2006, pp. 98–99, 100–01, repr.;
Kenworthy-Browne 2009, pp. 45–46, pl. 16; Wickham 2010, pp. 300–01, fig. 14;
Brook 2010–11, p. 158, fig. 5. exhibitions: London 1963, p. 34, no. 87, not
repr.; London 1968b, pp. 211–12, no. 651, not repr.; London 1971, p. 18, no.
71, not repr.; London 1972, p. 316, no. 521, not repr. (R. Liscombe); York
1973, p. 40, no. 98, not repr.; London 2001, p. 46, no. 85. Royal Academy
of Arts, London, 03/7485 With its companion The Antique Academy at New Somerset
House (fig. 1), this drawing constitutes one of the best and most evocative
visual records of the Antique or ‘Plaister’ Academy at the Royal Academy of
Arts in London.1 The Academy was founded in 1768 and initially occupied rooms
in Pall Mall before moving to Somerset House in 1771. The rather chaotic early
records of the Academy means that Burney’s detailed drawings are fundamental in
establishing precisely which antiquities were available to the first generation
of students at the Academy. Although copying after casts had been a practice
fol- lowed in previous British academies and schools of art – such as the Duke
of Richmond’s Academy – it was only with the foundation of the Royal Academy
that it became part of an extended curriculum modelled on the Roman and
Parisian Academies.2 The first Academicians draughted surprisingly few rules
governing the education of students, other than the requirement that a student
have a ‘Drawing or Model from some Plaister Cast’ approved for admission to the
Antique Academy, and again to progress into the Life Academy.3 For at least the
first fifty years of its existence there was no stipulation about the length of
time students should spend in either School. The timetable itself was fairly
minimal, follow- ing the traditional model in which the purpose of an Academy
was to provide instruction in draughtsmanship and theory whilst the student
learned his chosen art of painting, sculpture or architecture with a master.
The Antique or Plaister Academy was open from 9 to 3 pm with a two-hour session
in the evening, while the Life Academy consisted of only a two- hour class each
night. Until 1860, both were attended by male students only. The collection of
casts was under the control of the Keeper, while a Visitor attended monthly to
examine and correct the students’ drawings and to ‘endeavour to form their
taste’.4 Following the theoretical model of continental academies, the main
didactic purpose of drawing from plaster casts was to teach young students to
become acquainted with and to internalise ideal beauty before being exposed to
Nature in the Life Academy. As Benjamin West (1738–1820), president of the
Royal Academy for almost thirty years from 1792, put it, pro- ficiency was ‘not
to be gained by rushing impatiently to the school of the living model,
correctness of form and taste was first to be sought by an attentive study of
the Grecian figures’.5 Edward Francis Burney studied at the Royal Academy
Schools from 1777 and left in the 1780s to become a suc- Fig. 1. Edward Francis
Burney, The Antique Academy at New Somerset House, c. 1780, pen and grey ink
with watercolour wash, 335 × 485 mm, Royal Academy of Arts, London, cessful
book illustrator.6 As a young pupil of the Antique Academy, he recorded in the
present drawing of 1779 and its companion the rebuilding of Somerset House
begun in 1776 by Sir William Chambers (1723–96). This drawing shows the Academy
before Chambers’ intervention in a room that was probably designed by John Webb
(1611–72) in 1661–64, on the south side of the building facing the Thames.
These rooms had windows exposed to direct sunlight and therefore may have
required the ‘Screens to prevent Double Lights’, visible in the upper left
corner of the drawing and annotated on the verso. The drawing depicts four
students at work, the one on the right in the middle distance being guided by
George Michael Moser (1706–83), the first Keeper of the Royal Academy Schools,
including the Antique Academy.7 In the room everything was moveable. Boxes
could be used as seats or as supports for drawing boards, as one is by the
student in the foreground on the left, while rails were used for holding the
individual students’ candles (see cat. 26). Even the pedestal of the casts
could be moved on castors, so that the Keeper could change their position
weekly. The collection of plaster casts was one of the largest assembled in
Britain in the 18th century.8 Many came from the second St Martin’s Lane
Academy, brought by Moser who had been one of its directors.9 The collection
was then expanded considerably thanks to donations from aristocratic collectors
and acquisitions on the London market.10 Among the most easily identifiable
casts are those ubiqui- tous in European workshops and academies from the 17th
century onwards, all listed in the long inscription on the verso of the
drawing: the Apollo Belvedere (p. 26, fig. 18) at left centre, behind, in the
background, the Faun with Kid, and on the far right, the Dying Gladiator (p.
41, fig. 55), which a student is copying, as innumerable other students had
done before him (see cat. 20).11 In addition, a series of peculiarly ‘English’
casts are on display, some donated, others copied from origi- nals recently
brought to England from Rome. Partly obscured in shadow on the left is a cast
of Cincinnatus – which still survives in the collection of the Royal Academy
(fig. 2) – close Fig. 6. Relief from an Honourary Monument to Marcus Aurelius:
Triumph, 176–180 ad, marble, 324 × 214 cm, Capitoline Museums, Rome, inv.
MC0808 Fig. 7. Relief with Warriors, Roman, 1st or 2nd century ad, marble, 93 ×
82 cm, San Nilo Abbey, Grottaferrata, inv. 1155 Academy’s collection (figs
8–9). Finally, between the shelves and the door on the right, it is possible to
discern Leonardo’s cartoon of The Virgin and Child with St Anne and St John the
Baptist, today one of the most celebrated works in the National Gallery in
London – the present drawing is the earliest to document its presence in the
collection of the Royal Academy.16 The cast collection was of paramount
importance to the Royal Academy during its first decades, but the ad hoc nature
of its accumulation and the inclusion of casts of ‘Grand Tour’ souvenirs – such
as Lord Shelburne’s Cincinnatus – left it open to criticism. In 1798 the
Academy’s Professor of Painting, James Barry (1741–1806), launched a stinging
public attack complaining that the Academy was ‘too ill supplied with materials
for observations’ lamenting ‘the miserable beggarly state of its library and
collection of antique vestiges’.17 As a direct result, the sculptors John
Flaxman (1755–1826) and John Bacon the Younger (1777–1859) were charged with
purchasing new casts from the sale of George Romney’s (1734–1802) collection.18
Flaxman spent much of the rest of his career attempting to improve the
Academy’s cast collection; after 1815, he finally convinced the Prince Regent
to sponsor the Fig. 8. Plaster Cast of Head of a Roman Soldier in Helmet, from
Trajan’s Column, 15.7 × 15.4 × 4.4 cm, Royal Academy of Arts, London, inv.
10/3267 Fig. 9. Plaster Cast of the Head of Trajan, from Trajan’s Column, 15.5
× 15.4 × 4.6 cm, Royal Academy of Arts, London, iaa&jy
FortheearlyhistoryoftheRoyalAcademysee Hutchison1986,pp.23–54. For drawing
after casts in Britain before the foundation of the Royal Academy see esp.
Postle 1997; Coutu 2000; Kenworthy-Browne 2009. Hutchison 1986, pp. 29–31. For
the full admission process see London, Royal Academy of Arts, PC/1/1, Council
minutes, vol. 1, p. 4, 27 Dec. 1768; Abstract 1797, pp. 18–19.
Hutchison1986,p.27.Forthe‘RulesandOrders,forthePlaisterAcademy’, see London,
Royal Academy of Arts, PC/1/1 Council minutes, vol. 1, p. 6, 27 Dec. 1768, and
p. 17, 17 March 1769; Abstract 1797, pp. 22–23. For the role of the visitors
see ibid., p. 8. Hoare1805,p.3. SeeRogers2013. The identification of the
teacher with Moser is confirmed by other like- nesses: see Edgcumbe 2009. The
only other collection that could compete in numbers of casts was the Duke of
Richmond’s Gallery: see Coutu 2000; Kenworthy-Browne 2009. On the Royal Academy
collection of casts see Baretti [1781], esp. pp. 18–30. See Thomson 1771, pp.
42–43; Strange 1775, p. 74. We would like to thank Nick Savage for pointing out
these two sources to us.
OnplastershopsandtradersinBritaininthesecondhalfofthe18thcentury see Clifford
1992. Among private donors, Thomas Jenkins, the Rome based dealer, sent a cast
of the so-called Barberini Venus shortly after the Royal Academy’s foundation:
London, Royal Academy of Arts, PC/1/1, Council minutes, vol. 1, p. 38, 9 Aug.
1769. Jenkins in turn encouraged many of his clients in London to donate casts,
including John Frederick Sackville, Duke of Dorset who sent in 1771 ‘a Bust of
Antinous in his collection’ and ‘a cast of Pythagoras’: ibid., p. 111, 25 Oct.
1771, and p. 118, 18 Dec. 1771. Other early donors were Sir William Hamilton,
the Rome-based dealer Colin Morrison and the Anglo-Florentine painter Thomas
Patch. FortheFaunwithKidseeHaskellandPenny1981,pp.211–12,no.37. The Council
Minutes record on 11 June 1774: ‘Resolved that casts be made from three statues
in the possession of Lord Shelburne, viz the Meleager, the Gladiator putting on
his sandals, & the Paris, leave having been already obtained from his
lordship’, London, Royal Academy of Arts, PC/1/1, Council minutes, vol. 1, p.
179. The three sculptures had recently been sup- plied by Gavin Hamilton
(1723–98) from Rome and were largely recently excavated pieces: the Meleager
had been found at Tor Columbaro; the Paris and the so-called Cincinatus had
both come from an excavation at Hadrian’s Villa near Tivoli, called Pantanello.
See Bignamini and Hornsby 2010, vol. 1, pp. 321–22 for Shelburne; for the
excavation and purchase of the Cincinnatus and Paris see vol. 1, pp. 162–64,
nos 1 and 12; for the excavation and purchase of the Meleager see vol. 1, pp.
180–81, no. 7. London, Royal Academy of Arts, PC/1/1, Council minutes, vol. 1,
p. 38, 9 Aug. 1769 ‘Charles Townly Esq. having presented the Academy with a
cast of the Lacedemorian Boy ... ordered that letters of thanks should be
wrote.’ On the original relief see Boudon-Mauchel 2005, pp. 251–52, no. 43 and
on Duquesnoy’s fame as a ‘classical’ sculptor ibid., pp. 175–210. The cast of
the relief had been sent by Sir William Hamilton, then British ambassador to
the court of Naples, in 1770 together with a cast of ‘Apollo’: see Ingamells
and Edgcumbe 2000 p. 32, no. 25, 17 June 1770; see also London, Royal Academy
of Arts, PC/1/1, Council minutes, vol. 1, p. 72, 17 March 1770. For the Marcus
Aurelius relief see Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 255–56, no. 56; Rome 1986–87.
For the relief with warriors see Musso 1989–90, pp. 9–22. The relief was
illustrated in Winckelmann 1767, pl. 136. The same cast appears in Zoffany’s
celebrated Portrait of the Academicians of the Royal Academy, 1771–72, in the
Royal Collections. See Webster 2011, pp. 252–61; New Haven and London 2011–12,
pp. 218–21, no. 44 (M. A. Stevens). For Leonardo’s cartoon see London 2011–12,
pp. 289–91, no. 86 (L. Syson). Barry 1798, p. 7. London, Royal Academy of Arts,
PC/1/3, Council minutes, vol. 3, pp. 99–100, 22 May 1801. They purchased 16
casts in total for £68.10.3. WindsorLiscombe1987. Fig. 2. Plaster Casts of the
So-Called Lansdowne ‘Cincinnatus’, 1774, 162 cm (h), Royal Academy of Arts,
London, inv. 03/1488 Fig. 3. Lansdowne Paris, Roman copy of the Hadrianic
Period (117–138 ad) from a Greek original of the 4th century bc, marble, 165 cm
(h), Louvre, Paris, inv. MNE 946 (n° usuel Ma 4708) Fig. 4. Lansdowne
Hermes/Meleager, Roman copy of the Hadrianic Period (117–138 ad) of a Greek
original of the 4th century bc, marble, 219 cm (h), Santa Barbara Museum of
Art, Gift of Wright S. Ludington, inv. 1984.34.1 to the Faun with Kid is a
Paris (fig. 3), and behind Moser the so-called Lansdowne Meleager (fig. 4). All
of these were cast in 1774 from the originals in the collection of William
Petty, 2nd Earl of Shelburne (1737–1805), recently returned from his Grand
Tour.12 Behind the Cincinnatus is partly discernible a cast of the Knucklebone
Players given by Charles Townley in 1769, the antique original of which could
be admired in his London town-house at 7 Park Street (cat. 28, fig. 1).13 As
was customary, the Academy’s collection included also casts of busts and
statuettes distributed on shelves and of ‘dismembered’ body parts – arms, legs
and feet – hung on the wall, so that students could learn how to draw
anatomical details before approaching the whole human figure. Pupils were also
required to draw from reliefs, to become acquainted with the composition of
historie, or narrative scenes, based on classical models. Above the
chimneypiece is a large cast of a relief with music-making angels by François
Duquesnoy (1597–1643) – the Boys by Fiamingo identified on the reverse of the
drawing – whose most classicising works had, by the end of the 17th century,
acquired the same status of antique statuary (fig. 5).14 Above was displayed a
reduced version of one of the Marcus Aurelius reliefs in the Capitoline Museum
(fig. 6), and a comparatively obscure relief with warriors, which had clearly
gained fame because of its inclusion in Winckelmann’s Monumenti Antichi
Inediti, published in 1767 (fig. 7).15 Further identifiable casts included a
series of heads from Trajan’s Column, which we can see hanging from the shelves
on the end wall, many of which remain in the Fig. 5. François Duquesnoy, Relief
with Music-Making Angels, 1640–42, marble, 80 × 200 cm. Filomarino Altar,
Church of Santi Apostoli, Naples commissioning of a series of new casts from
Antonio Canova (1757–1822) in Rome.19 Burney’s image illustrates both the Royal
Academy’s aspiration to offer an ‘academic’ education in line with great
Continental examples, but also its differ- ences from them, as a private organisation
sponsored by the monarch rather than a state-run academy. 194
195 26. Anonymous British School, 18th century A View of the Antique
Academy in the Royal Academy c. 1790s Pen and brown ink and grey wash, with
watercolour, over graphite, 294 × 223 mm Stamped recto, l.l., in brown ink:
‘J.R’; on separate piece of paper now attached to the reverse of the mount, in
pen and black ink: ‘Henry Fuseli R A / 1741–1825. / Bought at Sir J. Charles
Robinson’s sale 1902 / E.M.’ provenance: Charles Heathcote Robinson; Sir John
Charles Robinson (1824–1913) (not listed in his sales: Christie’s 12–14 May
1902; or Christie’s 17–18 April 1902); Sir Edward Marsh (1872–1953); his
bequest through The Art Fund (then called National Art Collection Fund),
1953. literature:None. exhibitions: London 1969, no.1 (unpaginated), not
repr. The British Museum, Department of Prints and Drawings, London,
1953,0509.3 This satirical drawing, probably made by a distracted student who
ought to have been studying diligently from one of the casts, shows an
imposing, heavy-set man towering physi- cally and psychologically over three
young seated pupils drawing in the Antique Academy. While traditionally he has
been identified as the painter Henry Fuseli (1741–1825), Keeper of the Royal Academy
Schools from 1803 to 1825, given the style of the drawing and the subject’s
dress he is more likely to be either Agostino Carlini (c. 1718–90), Keeper
between 1783 and 1790, or Joseph Wilton (1722–1803) who held the position
between 1790 and 1803.1 The view shows one of the end walls of the Antique, or
‘Plaister’ Academy, housed from 1780 in a purpose-built room in Somerset
House.2 The same wall, with a similar arrangement of casts, appears in the
evocative candlelight view of the room by an anonymous British artist (see p.
60, fig. 105). The young students are busy at work, copying from casts of the
Belvedere Torso (p. 26, fig. 23), the Apollo Belvedere (p. 26, fig. 18) and the
Borghese Gladiator (p. 41, fig. 54), models of different ideal types of beauty,
masculinity and anatomy, repeatedly praised by Sir Joshua Reynolds in his third
Discourse of 1770. It is likely that the three moveable casts were often set
side by side by the Keepers to reflect Reynolds’ conception of ideal beauty and
of the ‘highest perfection of the human figure’, which ‘partakes equally of the
activity of the Gladiator, of the delicacy of the Apollo, and of the muscular
strength of the Hercules’, as expressed in his third Discourse.3 On the wall
behind the casts, are two cupboards possibly containing students’ drawings,
which support smaller casts and busts. Whilst the Antique Academy was a
serious, professional space, it was naturally the focus of humour from the
students, who ranged in ages from fourteen to thirty-four. Several other
caricatures exist testifying to the lighter side of academic life, including an
earlier study by Thomas Rowlandson (1756–1827) showing a bench of students at
work in the Life Academy in 1776 and including mocking depictions of
Rowlandson’s fellow students (fig. 1).4 In terms of its public image the cast
collection was an important symbol of the Academy’s prestige but this view does
not seem to have been shared by some of the students, many of whom must have
considered the long hours spent copying after the Antique as a constraining and
repetitive exercise. Joseph Wilton was a crucial figure within the acad- emy in
promoting a rigid curriculum based on the classical ideal. He never abandoned
his firm belief in the didactic value of plaster casts, established while he
was director of the Duke of Richmond’s Gallery in the late 1750s.5 His strict
teaching methods must have generated discontent and considerable derision,
brilliantly visualised in a satirical print by Isaac Cruikshank (1756–1811)
(fig. 2) which shows Wilton – trans- formed into Bottom with the head of an ass
– inspecting the drawing of an irritated student in the Antique Academy.6
Wilton’s exacting standards, as the lines below the cartoon make clear, would
prevent him from seeing the genius of a modern day Raphael and it is clear that
some students of the Academy saw him as a ‘formal old fool’. Unlike the Life
Academy, where the Visitor presided, setting the model and frequently drawing
from it himself, the Antique Academy was presided over by the Keeper of the
Schools. Each week the Keeper would set out specific casts and direct and
comment on the students’ work. According to Fig. 1. Thomas Rowlandson, A Bench
of Artists, 1776, pen and grey and black ink over pencil, 272 × 548 mm, Tate
Gallery, London, inv. T08142 196 197 Fig. 2. Isaac Cruikshank,
Bless The Bottom, bless Thee-Thou art translated – Shakespere, 1794,
hand-coloured etching, 295 × 212 mm, G. J. Saville the rules, students did not
choose which casts to draw and they were not allowed to move them without
permission.7 But depictions of the Antique Academy suggest that the situation
was probably more flexible and may have allowed for individually tailored
study. Several anecdotes point to the unruly life of the Academy and its
students, who were allowed to choose their own seats, with utter chaos
resulting. Joseph Farington (1747–1821) noted in 1794, that they behaved like
‘a mob’: Hamilton says the life Academy requires regulation: but the Plaister
Academy much more. The Students act like a mob, in endeavouring to get places.
The figures also are not turned so as to present different views to the 8 The
reason for the commotion was that once a student had a seat, he was expected to
retain it for the week. The atmos- phere seems to have been generally
boisterous and there are numerous reports in the Council Minutes of the Academy
of misbehaviour, high spirits and students throwing at each. It would be
productive of much good to the Students to deprive them of the use of bread; as
they would be induced to pay more attention to their outlines; and would learn
to draw more correct, when they had not the perpetual resource of rubbing
out.11 aa&jy For the traditional attribution of the sitter see the entry on
the collection online database of the British Museum. The identification of the
sitter with Joseph Wilton has been proposed already by Andrew Wilton in London
1969, no. 1. For a list of Keepers of the Royal Academy see Hutchison 1986, pp.
266–67. Both Carlini and Wilton presented similar physical character- istics as
the man in the drawing. For a list of their likenesses see respectively Trusted
2006 and Coutu 2008. See Baretti [1781], pp. 18–30. See Reynolds 1997, p. 47.
London 1997, pp. 170–71, no. 67. See Coutu 2000; Kenworthy-Browne 2009. George
1870–1954, vol. 7 (1793–1800), p. 118, no. 8519. See ‘Rules of the Antique
Academy’: Royal Academy of Arts PC/1/1, Council Minutes, vol. 1, pp. 4–6, 27
Dec. 1768, quoted in Hutchison 1986, p. 31. Farington 1978–98, vol. 1, p. 281.
Pressly 1984, p. 87. Farington 1978–98, vol. 2, pp. 461–62. Ibid., vol. 2, p.
462. These two drawings by Turner epitomise the two principal stages of
education provided by the Royal Academy Schools during the late 18th century:
the Antique, or Plaister, Academy and the Life Academy. Turner enrolled as a
student in the Schools in December 1789 as a boy of fourteen, spent more than
two years in the Antique Academy, and then progressed to the Life Academy in
June 1792, presumably after presenting a drawing for inspection by the Visitor.1
Although there is no record of the drawing Turner submitted, it may well have
been this finished study of the Belvedere Torso (see p. 26, fig. 23) a
sculpture of enduring popu- larity among artists as demonstrated by Goltzius’
drawing made almost exactly two hundred years earlier (cat. 8). Turner copied
the same cast of the Torso shown in the satiri- cal view of the Academy (cat.
26). He is recorded as having visited the Antique Academy on 137 separate
occasions during his studentship but only some twenty of his drawings after the
Antique survive (figs 1–4) – many from the casts seen in Burney’s drawing (cat.
25) – and none as highly ren- dered as the present study.2 Turner’s signature
at the lower right also suggests it was esteemed by the artist himself and
prepared for some formal purpose. Whilst the surviving Academy Council Minutes
do not record in detail the process of progression from the Antique Academy to
the Life Academy, contemporary accounts offer some insight. Turner’s
contemporary, Stephen Rigaud noted: I was admitted as a Student in the Life
Academy by Mr Wilton the Keeper, and Mr Opie, the Visitor for the time being,
on the presentation of a drawing from the Antique group of the Boxers, in which
I had copied the strong effect of light and shade in the whole group coming out
by strong lights on one side, and reflected lights on the other, with which Mr
Opie expressed himself much pleased.3 The study of the Torso has all the
characteristics of a presenta- tion drawing. It is on better, more regularly
cut paper than Turner’s other drawings after the Antique and the figure is
highly worked and boldly modelled with hatching and cross- hatching in chalk to
convey the ‘strong effects of light and shade’ mentioned by Rigaud. This is in
keeping with the established tradition of copying casts by candlelight to
enhance contrast, so that the students could learn how to render planes and
anatomical details. Unlike Goltzius’ Torso, being copied in daylight after the
original in the Belvedere Courtyard in Rome, Turner’s cast is strongly lit from
above by an oil lamp and set against a neutral screen to provide a uniform
background – as clearly visible in the view of the Antique Academy (p. 60, fig.
105). Furthermore, this is the only drawing from the Antique where Turner
employed trois crayons, adding red to black and white chalk, a technique he
usually reserved for studies from life. Might it be that Turner was attempting
to turn marble into flesh, the practice 198 199 students. other the lumps of
bread they were given to erase their draw- ings. Stephen Francis Rigaud
(1777–1862), son of the Royal Academician, John Francis Rigaud (1742–1810) and
a student in the early 1790s, wrote that the Schools were also the forum for
political agitation: The peaceable students in the Antique Academy being
continually interrupted in their studies by others of an opposite character,
who used to stand up and spout forth torrents of indecent abuse against the
King [. . .] One evening [. . .] I rose and protested that if they continued to
use such abominable language in a Royal Academy I would denounce every one of
them to the Council and procure their expulsion [. . .] this threat checked
them a little; but they shewed their spite by pelting me well with [. . .]
pieces of bread.9 This incident reached the ears of the Academy Council from
which the Keeper was excluded. Wilton told Joseph Farington in 1795: The
Students in the Plaister Academy continue to behave very rudely; and that they
have a practise of throwing the bread, allowed them by the Academy for rubbing
out, at each other, so as to waste so much that the Bill for bread sometimes
amounts to Sixteen Shillings a week.10 The Council took the decision to stop
the allowance of bread altogether, as the President, Benjamin West, noted: 27.
Joseph Mallord William Turner (London 1775–1851 London) a. Study of a Plaster
Cast of the Belvedere Torso c. 1792 Black, red and white chalk, on brown paper,
331 × 235 mm Signed recto, l.r., in pen and black ink: ‘Wm Turner.’ literature:
Postle 1997, pp. 91–93, repr.; Owens 2013, pp. 102–03, pl. 76. exhibitions:
Nottingham and London 1991, p. 51, no. 18 (M. Postle); Munich and Rome 1998–99,
p. 49, fig. 50, p. 164, no. 62 (M. Ewel and I. von zur Mühlen); Munich and
Cologne 2002, p. 414, no. 192 (J. Rees); London 2011 (no catalogue). Victoria
and Albert Museum, Prints & Drawings Study Room, London, 9261 b. The
Wrestlers c. 1793 Black, red and white chalks, on brown paper, 504 x 384 mm
Signed recto, l.r., in pen and black ink: ‘Wm Turner.’ literature: Wilton 2007,
p. 16, repr. exhibitions: Not previously exhibited. Victoria and Albert Museum,
Prints & Drawings Study Room, London, 9262 provenance: Both drawings
purchased by the Museum in 1884 from R. Jackson with four other academic
drawings by different artists (Victoria and Albert Museum Register of Drawings
1880–1884, pp. 171, 174). 200 201 prescribed by Rubens
(see Appendix, no. 8), something he may have thought would demonstrate that he
was ready to progress to the Life Academy? The Torso would have been a clever
choice for a presentation drawing, since the antique fragment held a position
of great prominence in the mission and the iconography of the Royal Academy.
According to Reynolds the Torso was the greatest exemplar of classical art.
‘What artist’, he asked in his 10th Discourse of 1780, ‘ever looked at the
Torso without feeling a warmth of enthusiasm, as from the highest efforts of
poetry?’ For him only ‘a MIND elevated to the contemplation of excel- lence
perceives in this defaced and shattered fragment [...] the traces of
superlative genius, the reliques of a work on which succeeding ages can only
gaze with inadequate admi- ration’ (see Appendix, no. 17).4 The muscular figure
featured prominently under the words ‘STUDY’ on the obverse of several medals
annually distributed as premiums to the students and in Angelica Kauffman’s
Design for the ceiling of the Council Chamber, which served also as a second
room of the Antique Academy (see p. 60, fig. 107).5 In Turner’s time as a student,
the Academy possessed two casts of the Torso, one of which we know was
presented by the dealer Colin Morrison in 1770, and significantly Turner
himself donated a further cast in 1842.6 The second drawing exhibited here was
made from posed models in the Life Academy. The model would be set by the
Visitors and Turner studied under a number of them, including Henry Fuseli,
James Barry and Thomas Stothard (1755–1834). This drawing possibly dates from
1793 and may represent an unusually elaborate pose set by the sculptor John
Bacon (1740–99). Stephen Francis Rigaud, who entered the Life Academy a year
after Turner, noted: I remember Mr Bacon once setting a well composed group of
two men, one in the act of slaying the other; or a representation of the
history of Cain and Abel, which was continued for double the time allowed for a
single figure, and which gave general satisfaction to the students.7 This
precisely accords with the present group, which shows specific models engaged
in combat. Although designed to represent a biblical subject, the pose of the
two figures was reminiscent of antique groups, especially the Wrestlers (see p.
30, fig. 33) which had already served as inspiration for posing the live models
in the Italian and French academies – as seen for instance in Natoire’s
imaginary view of the Académie Royale (cat. 16). Turner continued to attend the
Schools throughout the 1790s until he was awarded Associateship of the Academy
in 1799; he would continue to visit the Life Academy intermit- tently for the rest
of his life.8 He was made inspector of the cast collection of the Royal Academy
in 1820, 1829 and 1838 and served as Visitor in the Life Academy for a total of
eight years between 1812 and 1838.9 In the latter role he became famous for
setting the live model in postures reminiscent of classical sculpture, clearly
recalling what he had learned during his time as a student. Lauding this
practice and lamenting its decline, the artists and essayists Richard
(1804– Fig. 1. Joseph Mallord William Turner, Study of a Plaster
Cast of the Apollo Belvedere, c. 1791, black and white chalks on brown laid
wrapping paper, 419 × 269 mm, Tate Gallery, London, inv. D00057 (Turner Bequest
V D) Fig. 2. Joseph Mallord William Turner, Study of a Plaster Casts of
Marquess of Shelbourne’s Cincinnatus, c. 1791, pencil with black and white
chalks and stump on laid buf paper, 425 × 267 mm, Tate Gallery, London, inv.
D00055 (Turner Bequest V B) Fig. 4. Joseph Mallord William Turner, Study of a
Plaster Cast of a Helmeted Head from the Trajan Column, with Other Studies, c.
1791, black, red and white chalks and stump on dark buf paper, 337 × 269 mm,
Tate Gallery, London, inv. D40220 (Turner Bequest V R, verso) 88) and Samuel
(1802–76) Redgrave noted: When a visitor in the life school he introduced a
capital practice, which it is to be regretted has not been contin- ued: he
chose for study a model as nearly as possible corresponding in form and
character with some fine antique figure, which he placed by the side of the
model posed in the same action; thus, the Discobulus (sic) of Myron contrasted
with one of our best trained soldier; the Lizard Killer with a youth in the
roundest beauty of adoles- cence; the Venus de’ Medici beside a female in the
first period of youthful womanhood. The idea was original and very instructive:
it showed at once how much the antique sculptors had refined nature; which, if
in parts more beautiful than the selected form which is called ideal, as a
whole looked common and vulgar by its side.10 aa & jy For Turner’s
attendance at the Academy see Hutchison 1960–62, p. 130. Finberg 1909, vol. 1,
pp. 6–8. See also Wilton 2012. Pressly 1984, p. 90. Reynolds 1997, pp. 177–78.
On the medals see Hutchison 1986, p. 34; Baretti [1781], p. 28; see also
London, Royal Academy of Arts, PC/1/1, Council minutes, vol. 1, p. 24, 20 May
1769. For the Council Chamber see Baretti [1781], pp. 25–26. On the two copies
of the Torso in the Royal Academy see Baretti [1781], pp. 9, 28. On Colin
Morrison’s donation of a cast of the Torso, together with ‘Cast of a Bust of
Alexander’ in 1770 see London, Royal Academy of Arts, PC/1/1, Council minutes,
vol. 1, p. 70, 17 March 1770; on Turner’s donation see Gage 1987, p. 33.
Pressly 1984, p. 90. Hutchison 1960–62, p. 130. See Gage 1987, pp. 32–33.
Redgrave and Redgrave 1890, p. 234, quoted in Gage 1987, p. 33. 202
203 Fig. 3. Joseph Mallord William Turner, Study of a Plaster Casts of the
Borghese Gladiator, c. 1791–92, black and some white chalk on buf wove paper,
580 × 457 mm, Tate Gallery, London, inv. D00071 (Turner Bequest V S) 1 2 3 4 5
6 7 8 9 10 28. William Chambers ( fl.1794) The Townley Marbles in the
Dining Room of 7 Park Street, Westminster 1795 Pen and grey ink with
watercolour and touches of gouache, indication in graphite, heightened with gum
Arabic, 390 × 540 mm provenance: Charles Townley (1737–1805); by descent to
Lord O’Hagan (b. 1945); Sotheby’s, London, 22 July 1985, lot 559; Frederick R.
Koch; Sotheby’s, London, 12 April 1995, lot 90, from whom acquired by the British
Museum. literature: Cook 1977, pp. 8–9, fig.1; Cook 1985, pp. 44–45, fig. 41;
Walker 1986, pp. 320–22, pl. A; Cruickshank 1992, pp. 60–61, fig. 5; Morley
1993, pp. 228, 285, pl. LVII; Webster 2011, p. 425, fig. 321. exhibitions:
Essen 1992, pp. 432–36, no. 360a (C. Fox and I. Jenkins); London 1995 (no
catalogue); London and Rome 1996–97, pp. 258–60, no. 214 (I. Jenkins); London
2000, pp. 229–30, no. 167; London 2001, p. 42, no. 72; London 2003b, p. 143,
fig. 117. The British Museum, Department of Prints and Drawings, London,
1995,0506.8 Charles Townley (1737–1805) was the most influential collec- tor of
antique sculpture in Britain during the second half of the 18th century.1 From
1777 Townley’s considerable collection was arranged in his London residence, 7
Park Street (now 14 Queen Anne’s Gate), a proto-house-museum praised both for
the strength of its collections and their display. It was to become one of the
principal tourist sites in London. Writing about the house, James Dallaway
claimed that ‘the interior of a Roman villa might be inspected in our own
metropolis’.2 Park Street was also a centre of antiquari- anism and Townley –
particularly after 1798, when wars with France curtailed travel to the
Continent – was a hugely Fig. 1. Johann Zofany, Charles Townley and Friends in
His Library at Park Street, Westminster, 1781–90 and 1798, oil on canvas, 127 ×
99.1 cm, Towneley Hall Art Gallery & Museum important figure in promoting
the study and interpretation of classical sculpture in Britain initiating numerous
publica- tions, including the Society of Dilettanti’s Specimens of Antient
Sculpture (1809). Townley also formed a famous library and an immense archive
of drawings – in effect a ‘paper museum’ – recording antiquities in both
British and European collections. To complete this ‘paper museum’ and to
prepare publications such as the Specimens, Townley employed numerous young
artists to record his own collection. It is clear from the surviving portions
of his diary and other records that 7 Park Street became, in effect, an
alternative academy in London. Writing in 1829, the then Keeper of Prints and
Drawings at the British Museum, J. T. Smith, published a description of 7 Park
Street and its contents, observing: I shall now endeavour to anticipate the
wish of the reader, by giving a brief description of those rooms of Mr
Townlye’s house, in which that gentleman’s liberality employed me when a boy,
with many other students in the Royal Academy, to make drawings for his
portfolios.3 Townley’s surviving drawings, housed, along with his sculp- ture
collection, in the British Museum, testify to the range of artists he employed
and demonstrate the popularity of Park Street as a venue for artists both to
meet and to draw. Records show that William Chambers – not to be confused with
the architect of the same name – was one of the draughtsmen employed by Townley
to prepare drawings for his ‘portfo- lios’. A payment of £5.5.0 to Chambers is
recorded on 21 October 1795 for the pendant to this drawing, a view of sculp-
ture in the hall at 7 Park Street, also in the British Museum.4 Townley’s diary
records the comings and goings of painters, particularly his friend, Johann
Zoffany (1733–1810) who painted the iconic, largely imaginary view of Townley’s
library filled with his sculpture collection and with the owner in conversation
with his unofficial curator, the Baron d’Hancarville, and two other friends
(fig. 1).5 204 205 The dining room was one of the principal public
spaces of the house and contained some of the largest sculptures in the
collection. These included the Townley Venus, the Discobolus (fig. 2), the
Townley Caryatid, the Townley Vase, and the Drunken Faun, which Chambers places
in the foreground. The modish decoration reflected both advanced neo-classical
thinking and Townley’s own passions; the walls were articulated by simulated
porphyry columns surmounted by capitals whose design came from Terracina; as
d’Hancarville explained: ‘the ove is covered with three masks representing the
three kinds of ancient drama, the comic, tragic and satyric [...] the choice
and disposition of these ornaments leave no doubt that this capital was
intended to characterise a building con- secrated to Bacchus and Ceres’.6
Visitors are shown admiring the collection while a woman seated in the
foreground is drawing from the Drunken Faun. A drawing attributed to Chambers
of the same sculpture, taken from the same angle, made for Townely’s
portfolios, is also in the British Museum (fig. 3). Townley’s wide circle of
acquaintances included a number of amateur and professional female artists,
includ- ing Maria Cosway (1760–1838), whom Townley first met in Florence in
1774. His interest in encouraging young artists led to the publication by
Conrad Metz of a drawing manual based on studies of the sculpture in Park
Street: Studies for Drawing, chiefly from the Antique. 30 plates (1785).
Townley’s support of artists resulted in his taking an active role in the Royal
Academy of Arts from its foundation. He donated casts of his own sculpture and
solicited dona- tions from friends. The Academy’s Council Minutes record his
first donation in August 1769 of a ‘cast of the Lacedemonian Boy’ the so-called
Knucklebone Players which appears in Edward Burney’s view of the RA’s Antique
Academy on the far left, behind the Cincinnatus (cat. 25).7 One of the artists
who appears regularly in Townley’s diary was the sculptor Joseph Nollekens
(1737–1823) who is recorded donating to the Academy a ‘cast in plaister of the
head of Diomede’ belonging to Townley in 1792.8 Townley also donated casts of
sculptures in other collections, among them, in 1794 one ‘of the celebrated Bas
relief in the Capitol, of Perseus & Andromeda’, a cast still in the
collection of the Academy.9 Townley’s solicitude for the Royal Academy and the
educa- tion of young artists continued throughout his life; in 1797 the painter
and diarist Joseph Farington noted: ‘Townley [...] thinks the Academy should
have additional rooms for Statues &c’.10 29. Joseph Michael Gandy (London
1771–1843 Plympton) View of the Dome Area by Lamplight looking South-East 1811
Pen and black ink, watercolour, 1190 × 880 mm selected literature: Lukacher
2006, pp. 132–33, fig.150 exhibitions: London 1999a, p. 160, no. 68 (H. Dorey);
Munich 2013–14, p. 43; London 2014, (unpaginated). Sir John Soane’s Museum,
London, For Townley see particularly Coltman 2009. Dallaway 1816, pp. 319, 328.
Smith 1829, vol. 1, p. 251. In February that year he had also paid Chambers
£2.2.0. for some unspeci- fied drawings, and in August £1.1.0. for ‘drawing
gems’: see London 2000, p. 229. Townley’s diary records Chambers returned in
May 1798 when he began to make a record of an altar of Lucius Verus Helius
which Townley had recently acquired from the Duke of St Albans; he finished the
study on Sunday 7 July: London, British Museum, Townley Archive, TY/1/10. For
William Chambers’ pendant to this drawing see London 2001, p. 42, no. 71 (with
previous bibliography). Webster 2011, pp. 419–43. London and Rome 1996–97, pp.
258–60. London, Royal Academy of Arts, PC/1/1, Council minutes, vol. 1, p. 38,
9 Aug. 1769. It arrived with a cast of a Venus donated by Townley’s principal
antiquities dealer in Rome, Thomas Jenkins. The original Knucklebone Players is
in the British Museum, Department of Greek & Roman Antiquities, inv.
1805,0703.7. London, Royal Academy of Arts, PC/1/2, Council minutes, vol. 2,
pp. 173–4, 3 Nov. 1792. The original marble bust is in the British Museum,
Department of Greek & Roman Antiquities, inv. 1805,0703.86, now called the
Head of a follower of Ulysses. London, Royal Academy of Arts, PC/1/2, Council
minutes, vol. 2, p. 201, 7 Feb. 1794. The cast is in the Royal Academy, inv.
03/2018. The original is in the Capitoline Museums, Rome, inv. 501: see Helbig
1963–72, vol. 2, pp. 156–57, no. 1330. Farington 1978-98, vol. 3, p. 840. Fig.
2. The Townley Discobolus, Roman copy of the 2nd century ad after a Greek
original of the 5th century bc by Myron, marble, 170 cm (h), British Museum,
Department of Greek & Roman Antiquities, London, inv. 1805,0703.43 Fig. 3
Attributed to William Chambers, Drawing of a Statue of an Intoxicated Satyr,
1794–1805, black chalk and grey wash, 280 × 193 mm, British Museum, Department
of Greek & Roman Antiquities, London, inv. 2010,5006.87 The Royal Academy
School of Architecture was central to the formation of the professional career
and teaching of Sir John Soane (1754–1837), who is chiefly remembered today as
architect to the Bank of England, of Dulwich Picture Gallery and of his
incomparable house-museum at No. 13 Lincoln’s Inn Fields, London. The unique
installations of antiquities and casts after the Antique in the Museum, which
he built at the back of the house, and which J. M. Gandy so atmospherically
evokes in this drawing, also attest to the influence of the Academy on Soane’s
pattern of collecting and his own role as a teacher. Soane entered the Academy
in 1771 at the age of eighteen; he was the 141st pupil since the Academy’s
foundation in 1768 and amongst the first students of the School of
Architecture, the earliest institution in Britain to teach architecture in a
formalised way. The School was modelled by Sir William Chambers (1723–96) on
his own experience of studying architecture in Jean-François Blondel’s École
des Arts in Paris, in 1749–50, when the status of the architect and teaching
methods in Britain were then very different from those in France. The Académie
Royale d’Architecture, of which Chambers became a member in 1762, had been
founded in 1671 and was followed, in 1743, by Blondel’s more progressive École.
The École’s curriculum was rigorous; it was open for study from Monday to
Saturday and from eight in the morning until nine in the evening. The students’
day began with formal discussion of various topics, followed by lectures on set
matters relating to drawing such as mathe- matics, geometry, perspective, or to
building types such as military architecture, or to practical issues such as
drainage and water supply. In the spring, students would undertake site visits
to notable buildings in Paris and its environs.1 In Britain, by contrast, the
professional status of architect was ill-defined, and was not always
distinguished from that of the builder or mason. The ambiguous status of
architecture was not entirely clarified by the time Soane entered the architecture
school. It was the smallest of the departments at the Royal Academy and Soane
was one of only nine pupils admitted in 1771. And although inspired by
Blondel’s École, the programme of the architecture school was nothing like so
rigourous. Students of architecture were required to attend only six lectures
per year.2 The reason for this very limited formal teaching was that most
students were attached to a professional archi- tect’s office during the day;
when Soane enrolled at the Royal Academy he was working for George Dance the
Younger (1741–1825).3 Nor were the teaching collections available to students
at all extensive. The collections of plaster casts after the Antique (and
antiquities) were dominated by the requirements of painters and sculptors; in
the 1810 inventory of 385 casts, only nineteen can be identified as being
architec- tural.4 It is against this backdrop that we must understand Soane’s
own founding of an ‘academy of architecture’ in his house-museum. The history
of Soane’s collections of casts and the manner in which they were installed,
deinstalled and reinstalled over a period of time and over three different
properties belonging to Soane (two at Lincoln’s Inn Fields and one in Ealing,
London) is not straightforward. From the 1790s, Soane started collecting and
displaying casts for the use of the young pupils and assistants working in his
first office in No. 12 Lincoln’s Inn Fields.5 However, as his collection grew
and as his career as an architect developed, the function of the collection of
antiquities and of casts after the Antique changed. Gandy’s drawing shows the
Dome Area of Soane’s Museum as it appeared in 1811 (a year after the 1810 Royal
Academy inventory of casts was com- piled).6 In this view, atmospherically lit
from below by an undisclosed light source, we can readily identify a number of
casts of antique sculpture and of architectural fragments. The largest casts
are the Corinthian capital shown on the south wall, and a fragment of
entablature, shown on the east wall, both taken from the Temple of Castor and
Pollux in Rome, which Soane had purchased in 1801 from the sale of the
architect Willey ‘the Athenian’ Reveley.7 Below the capital, and forming part
of the parapet of the Dome we see a cast of one of the panels, decorated with a
festoon, from the portico of the Pantheon, purchased from the sale of the
architect James Playfair.8 Sculpture is also represented in the casts, and a
number of well-known antiquities can be 206 207 described.
Just visible through the arch in the lower right- hand corner, is an
arrangement of four casts taken from the base of one of the so-called Barberini
Candelabra, among the most prized antiquities in the Museo Pio-Clementino,
Rome, which shows the gods Minerva, Jupiter (twice), and Mercury in low
relief.9 On the east wall, below the entablature of the Temple of Castor and
Pollux, is a cast of a relief of two of the ‘Corybantes’, taken from the marble
original in the Vatican Museums and also purchased from the Playfair sale.10
Although Soane would rearrange these casts and antiquities as his ‘Museum’
expanded, most are still to be found at No. 13 Lincoln’s Inn Fields and the
general impression of a dense, ‘romantic’ arrangement remains. If, originally,
Soane’s collection of casts and antiquities was intended to provide exemplars
for the architects training and working in his office, by the time Gandy drew
the arrangements as they appeared in 1811 a shift in their purpose had
occurred. In 1806, Soane became Professor of Architecture at the Royal Academy
and, as a former student, he was well aware of the relatively meagre resources
allocated to the School. He comments on this in his 6th lecture, given to his
students at the RA.11 The arrangement of casts shown by Gandy was installed
between 1806 and 1809, when Soane was preparing his Royal Academy lectures, of
which he gave the first in 1809.12 It has been argued that they are a
three-dimensional analogue of the lectures and their drawn illustrations.13
Indeed, Soane saw the casts as being central to his teaching: ... I propose in
future that the various drawings and models, shall, on the day before, and if
necessary, the day after the public reading of each lecture, be open at my
house for the inspection of the students in architecture, where at the same
time, they will likewise have an oppor- tunity of consulting the plaster casts
and architectural fragments.14 Shortly after Gandy completed this view of the
Dome Area, the European Magazine and London Review described Soane’s
house-museum as an ‘... Academy of Architecture’.15 At the same time as he was
responding to the lack of architectural casts and fragments in the collections
of the Royal Academy, Soane’s ‘academy’ should also be seen as Soane’s
reflection on the ways in which he himself had come to experience Roman
architecture. Unlike the Royal Academy lectures, which Soane arranged
programmatically, the ‘Piranesian’ displays of antiquities, casts and
architectural 16 to recreate the experience of visiting Rome and to recall the
excitement of viewing there the disorganised remains of antiquity.17 However,
another reason why Soane rejected a rational academic approach to the
arrangements of antiquities in his house-museum might lie in the way that Soane
used the collections to form his own identity as an architect. In our drawing
Gandy includes a portrait of Soane who is illuminated from the same undisclosed
light source as his casts, gesturing in, by 1811, the slightly archaic manner
of an interlocutor. He is at once teacher, architect and collector.18 The
arrangements of casts and antiquities are not just for the use of his students
and pupils but also, as he put it, ‘... studies for my own mind’.19 They
reflect one individual’s view of art and architecture through the idiosyncratic
juxtapositions that he created. However, there is yet another level of
self-identification in Soane’s collection and display of antiquities and
architec- tural fragments. In Gandy’s drawing, far above Soane on a shelf, can
be seen a row of Roman antique cineraria and cinerary vases. That at the far
left, decorated with Ammon masks, came from the ‘Museum’ of the great Italian
architect and etcher, Piranesi, as did the cinerary vase decorated with
griffins seen on top of the cinerarium in the middle, and the cinerarium
decorated with genii on the far right. Though it is not seen in this view, in
1811, a full-size cast of the Apollo Belvedere would join the collections of
the ‘academy’. Dating to 1717, it had formerly been owned by Lord Burlington
and displayed in his villa at Chiswick. In 1818, further antiquities – this
time from the sale of the effects of Robert and James Adam – would enhance the
installations. The names of these prominent antiquaries and architects are
significant: they create an intellectual genealogy for Soane, who was born the
son of a bricklayer. Sir John Soane’s Museum is a very rare survival of an
early 19th-century private ‘academy’ in which his collections of casts and of
antiquities can be experienced much in the same manner as his own pupils and
his Royal Academy students experienced them. It also demonstrates how Soane
drew upon the Antique to create his intellectual persona. fragments are
set out idiosyncratically and imaginatively. Why did Soane reject a more
conventional arrangement of casts and antiquities in his ‘academy’? Perhaps he
wished 208 1 2 3 4 j k-b See Bingham 1993, p.5. ‘In regard to the students in
architecture, it is exacted from them only that they attend the library and
lectures, more particularly those on Architecture and Perspective...’.
Reprinted, La Ruffinière du Prey 1977, p. 47. Soane subsequently entered the
office of Henry Holland in 1772. Bingham 1993, p. 7. The lack of collections of
casts or of architectural fragments in public collections in Britain, until Sir
John Soane formed his collection, was also commented upon by John Britton in
the preface to his 1827 ‘guide’ to Soane’s house-museum, Britton 1827, p.viii.
209 5 Soane had originally started collecting and displaying casts for
the use of the architects working in his first office in No.12 Lincoln’s Inn
Fields in the 1790s. He also hoped to inspire his eldest son – John Soane
Junior – to become an architect and arranged antiquities and casts at his
country villa, Pitzhanger Manor in Ealing, acquired in 1800 and rebuilt by
Soane, to act as an ‘academy’ for John. For a full description of Soane’s
acquisition and installation of casts in his house-museum and his use of them
see: Dorey 2010. 6 This part of the house was in fact behind No. 13 Lincoln’s
Inn Fields. 7 Reveley had collected these casts in Italy and Soane purchased
every cast from this sale. Dorey 2010, p. 600. 8 Dorey 2010, p.600. 9 These
were found in the remains of Hadrian’s Villa at Tivoli in 1730 and were heavily
restored by Bartolomeo Cavaceppi. The British antiquary Thomas Jenkins acted as
agent for the Pope when negotiating their acquisition. 10 This had been found
in 1788 near Palestrina. The subject of the relief is also sometimes identified
as the Pyrrhic Dance. 11 ‘...I have often lamented that in the Royal Academy
the students in architecture have only a few imperfect casts from ancient
remains, and a very limited collection of works on architecture to refer to.’
Reprinted in Watkin 1996, p. 579. 12 As Soane explained in his 6th Royal Academy
lecture: ‘On my appoint- ment to the Professorship I began to arrange the
books, casts, and models, 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 in order that the students might
have the benefit of easy access to them.’ Reprinted in Watkin 1996, p. 579.
See: Dorey 2010, p. 606. Watkin 1996, p.579. Observations 1812, p. 382. In
fact, Soane does seem to have entertained the idea of creating a more
‘rational’ Museum where casts, antiquities and fragments would be arranged
according to academic taxonomies. A drawing by George Bailey, also dating to
1811 and showing the Dome Area (SM 14/6/3), includes a plan relating to a
scheme of c. 1809–11 whereby both Nos 12 and 13 Lincoln’s Inn Fields would be
used by Soane. In this proposed scheme, the whole of No. 13 would become the
Museum with the collections displayed according to type. As Soane explained in
a rejected draft of his sixth Royal Academy lecture, No. 13 would incorporate:
‘... a gallery exceeding one hundred feet in length for the reception of
architectural drawings and prints, another room of the same extent over it, to
receive models and parts of buildings ancient and modern’. Reprinted in Watkin
1996, p. 356. Soane even used plain yellow glass in the skylights that
illuminated the Dome Area, perhaps to evoke the light of the Mediterranean
world rather than that of London. Soane explores the use of architecture as a
type of ‘self-portrait’ in notes he made when preparing his Royal Academy
lectures. See: Soane. J., Extracts, Hints, Etc. for Lectures, 1813–18, SM Soane
Case 170, f.135. Soane, Gijsbertus Johannus Van den Berg (Rotterdam 1769–1817
Rotterdam) The Drawing Lesson c. 1790s Black and red chalk, 483 × 375 mm.
Framing lines in black chalk. Signed recto l.r. in black chalk: GVD Berg. fecit
provenance: Paris, Drouot, 26 March 1924, part of lot 55, La Leçon de Dessin
(sold as a pair with another drawing, La Marchande de frivolités); Private
collection, France; Private collection, England; Florian Härb, London, from
whom acquired. literature:None. exhibitions: Not previously exhibited. Katrin
Bellinger collection, inv. no. 2011-013 Born in Rotterdam, Van den Berg was a
pupil of Johannes Zaccarias Simon Prey (1749–1822), a leading portrait and
decorative painter in that city.1 In the 1780s, he studied for three years in
Antwerp where he received special recogni- tion for his drawings after live
models and casts; he also resided for a time in Düsseldorf and Mannheim.2 In
1790, he returned to Rotterdam where he established himself as a portrait
painter and miniaturist. The same year he was appointed ‘Corrector’, a judge
and arranger of poses for live models, of the Rotterdam Drawings Society, whose
motto was Hierdoor tot Hooger (‘From Hereby to Higher’).3 For the remainder of
his career, he devoted himself to teaching. His pupils included his son,
Jacobus-Everardus-Josephus (1802–61), who also became a professional painter
and from 1844, director of the Teeken-Akademie in the Hague.4 One of Van den
Berg’s biographers makes special mention of the finished portrait studies in
black and red chalk that he made after his return to Rotterdam; the present
drawing is certainly one of them.5 Berg preferred studying female models,
usually posing two together: here, two elegantly dressed women in a panelled
interior focus their attention on an idealised head, probably a variant of the
head of an antique Venus.6 The seated draughtswoman holds up her chalk-filled
porte-crayon above an angled drawing-board, intently appraising her subject.
She engages with it much in the same way as Hubert Robert did some thirty years
earlier in his self-portrait with the Faustina bust (cat. 17). The second woman
appears to be commenting on the work in progress. A portfolio leans against a
table leg on the floor below. Comparably attired women – possibly the same ones
– are shown reading a letter in a sheet by Van den Berg in a private
collection.7 The present composition is similar in style and format to several
other chalk studies by the artist of the 1790s. It is especially close to his
drawing of a female artist seated at a table in the Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam
(fig. 1). But instead of holding a porte-crayon, this young woman operates a
zograscope, an optical device invented in the mid-18th century that included a
magnifying lens to enhance an image’s depth and relief; the subject of her
scrutiny remains out of view.8 Another comparable drawing, signed and dated
1791 (Royal Collection, Windsor Castle; fig. 2), shows an elderly man, perhaps
a drawing instructor, inspecting a portrait study from a portfolio.9 He is seated
at a table which is nearly identical to that in the Bellinger example, but Berg
shows him in a less formal attitude, holding a long clay pipe and resting his
feet on a portable stove, in a manner reminis- cent of Dutch 17th-century genre
subjects. This drawing, plus a number of other figure drawings by Van den Berg
preserved at Windsor, were probably obtained as a group by Fig. 1. Gijsbertus
Johannus Van den Berg, Study of a Woman Seated at a Table, with an Optical
Mirror, black and red chalk, 396 × 303 mm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam
RP-T-1997-10 210 211 Fig. 2. Gijsbertus Johannus Van
den Berg, A Connoisseur Examining Drawings, 1791, black and red chalk, 407 ×
284 mm, Royal Collection, RL 12865 King George III around 1810.10 Most are
probably studies after live models set in poses determined in advance in
classes at the Rotterdam Drawings Society.11 Draped plaster casts were used
when models were unavailable.12 As with the Bellinger drawing, their style,
with their sensitive employment of black chalk and red accents for the skin, is
strongly reminiscent of portrait drawings by the English artist Richard Cosway
(1742–1821) and no doubt register the prevailing taste for English art in
Rotterdam at the time.13 It is possible that Van den Berg intended his figure
studies to be engraved, perhaps for a series on the art of drawing.14 Women
artists did not begin to acquire the same privileges and educational advantages
as men until the end of the 19th century; as a general rule they were denied
membership of academies and were not permitted to draw after nude or anatomical
models.15 They were largely confined to producing art in private studios and
especially in aristocratic houses, where drawing tutors were sometimes hired to
supplement the education of young women.16 For the most part, they were
restricted to producing non-histor- ical, non-mythological and non-biblical
subjects, such as portraits and still-lifes, as their exclusion from study of
the live model and anatomy was thought to – and generally did Fig. 3. Georg
Melchior Kraus, Corona Schröter Drawing a Cast of the ‘Eros of Centocelle’,
1785, watercolour, 380 × 315 mm, Klassik Stiftung Weimar, KHz/01632 – prevent
them from acquiring full mastery of the human form.17 Instead, they studied
sculptural models and espe- cially antique casts, often ones deemed
thematically appro- priate for their gender, such as the ideal head featured in
the Van den Berg drawing catalogued here. A comparable situa- tion is depicted
in a watercolour close in date by Georg Melchior Kraus (1737–1806), then
director of the Weimar drawing school, in which a beautiful and smartly dressed
young lady, Corona Schröter, draws after a cast of the girlish son of Venus,
the Eros of Centocelle (1785; Klassik Stiftung Weimar; fig. 3), a statue known
through Roman copies – namely, the example discovered by Gavin Hamilton in 1772
in the outskirts of Rome and now in the Vatican – after a lost bronze original
by Praxiteles.18 The tradition of women drawing from antique plaster casts in
Holland, which began in the 17th century,19 was well advanced by the first
quarter of the 18th century, evidenced in Pieter Van der Werff’s portrayal of a
girl draw- ing after the Venus de’ Medici (1715; Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam; p. 40,
fig. 53). Van den Berg’s drawing, and others like it, confirm that the practice
developed further during the latter part of the century, and became still more
widespread in the 19th. The importance of plaster casts in artistic training in
212 213 Holland at this time is indicated by the activities of the
Rotterdam Drawing School, but also by Van den Berg’s own self-portrait of 1794,
where a reduced model of the Dying Gladiator and others are given prominence of
place on the shelf directly behind the artist (Museum Rotterdam).20 avl 1 For his
life and work, see Van der Aa 1852–78, vol. 2, pp. 368–69; Thieme- Becker
1907–50, vol. 3, p. 387; Scheen 1981, p. 35. 2 Van der Aa 1852–78, vol. 2, pp.
368–69. 3 Ibid., vol. 2, p. 369; For the society and his involvement therein,
see Amsterdam 1994, pp. 2–3 [unpaginated]. 4 Ibid. 5 Ibid.; Amsterdam 1994, p.
3 [unpaginated]. 6 Amsterdam 1994, p. 3 [unpaginated]; Berg also oversaw
private classes where students drew after nude female models. 7 Ibid., pp. 3–4
[unpaginated], no. 9. 8 Bulletin van het Rijksmuseum, 45, no. 3, 1997, p. 239,
fig. 9. For an in-depth study of this device, known in the 18th century as an
‘optical machine’, see Koenderink 2013, pp. 192–206. 9 Puyvelde 1944, p. 20,
no. 81, pl. 142; Amsterdam 1994, p. 2 [unpaginated]. 10 Puyvelde 1944, pp.
20–21, nos. 75–83. See also on-line collections database:
http://www.royalcollection.org.uk 11 For the society’s use of posed models, see
Amsterdam 1994, p. 2 [unpagi- nated]. 12 On the role of casts, see Amsterdam
1994, p. 2 [unpaginated]. An intrigu- ing view of the society’s drawing room,
on the upper floor of the Delftse Poort in Rotterdam, was published in Plomp
1982, pp. 11–12 (drawn by an anonymous artist, 1780, whereabouts unknown).
Casts of the Laocoön, the Apollo Belvedere, and L’Ecorché (Figure of a Flayed
Man), 1767 by Jean-Antoine Houdon (1741–1828) are clearly visible. For the
latter, see Washington D.C., Los Angeles and elsewhere 2003–04, pp. 62–66, no.
1 (A. L. Poulet). It has also been suggested that the finished quality of Van
den Berg’s drawings are reminiscent of engravings by George Morland (Amsterdam
1994, p. 3 [unpaginated]; Bulletin van het Rijksmuseum, 45, no. 3, 1997, p. 239).
As proposed by Florian Härb, unpublished fact sheet on the Bellinger drawing,
c. 2011. For essential reading on the subject of women artists from the
Renaissance to the mid-20th century, see Los Angeles, Austin and elsewhere
1976–77 and especially the authors’ introductory essay, pp. 12–67. See also
Goldstein 1996, pp. 61–66. A very small number of women artists managed to get
elected to the French academy including Adélaïd Labille-Guiard (1749– 1803) and
Elisabeth Vigée Lebrun (1755–1842) in 1783. But from 1663 to the dissolution of
the Academy in 1793, only fourteen in total were accepted (Montfort 2005, pp.
3, 16, note 8). The French Salon in Paris was not open to non-Academy members
until 1791, when women were permitted to exhibit their work. Goldstein 1996,
pp. 62–64. See Los Angeles, Austin and elsewhere 1976–77, especially pp. 13–58;
Goldstein 1996, pp. 62–63. Söderlind 1999, p. 23. For the statue, see Spinola
1996–2004, vol. 2, p. 61, fig. 11, p. 63, no. 85; Piva 2007, pp. 48–49, fig. 7.
See for example, A Young Woman Seated Drawing, 1655–60, by Gabriel Metsu
(1629–67) in the National Gallery, London (NG 5225; Waiboer 2012, pp. 205–06,
A-62) and A Lady Drawing, c. 1665, by Eglon van der Neer (1635/36– 1703) in the
Wallace Collection, London (inv. no. P243; Schavemaker 2010, p. 462, no. 29).
Dordrecht 2012–13, no. 64A (F. Meijer). 31. Wybrand Hendriks (Amsterdam
1744–1831 Haarlem) The Haarlem Drawing College 1799 Oil on canvas, 63 × 81 cm
Signed and dated lower left: ‘W. Hendriks Pinxit 1799’ provenance: Wybrand
Hendriks (1744–1831); his sale, R.W.P. de Vries & C.F. Roos, Amsterdam,
27–29 February 1832, lot 30; private collection, Paris; Adolph Staring
(1890–1980), Vorden; given to the Teylers Museum in 1987 by Mrs. J.H.M.
Staring-de Mol van Otterloo. literature: Knoef 1938, repr.; Knoef 1947a, pp.
11–13; Staring 1956, p. 174, fig. LIV; Van Regteren Altena 1970, pp. 312, 316;
Praz 1971, p. 37; Van Tuyll 1988, pp. 17–18, fig. 21; Haarlem 1990, pp. 35–36.
exhibitions: Rotterdam 1946, p. 8, no. 13; London 1947, p. 4, no. 2; Amsterdam
1947–48, p. 8, no. 10; Haarlem 1972, pp. 25–26, no. 29, fig. 44; Munich and
Haarlem 1986, pp. 96–97, no. 13. 214 215 Teylers Museum, Haarlem, KS 1987 002
exhibited in haarlem only In this painting we have been admitted to a gathering
at the Haarlem Drawing College. In the 18th and early 19th century every
self-respecting Dutch town had its own drawing ‘college’ or ‘academy’. It was
where artists and wealthy amateurs met, drew together from the nude or draped
model, and where they looked at drawings together during so-called art viewings
or ‘kunstbeschouwingen’. In 1799, the year this picture was painted, the
Haarlem Drawing College had twenty-six working (as opposed to honorary)
members, and this is very probably a group portrait of them and their committee
(leaving aside the boy playing marbles on the left, who may be the son of one
of the members). The setting is a house that the Haarlem artists rented in
Klein Heiligland. The question that immediately arises is: ‘who’s who?’ Although
the label listing the sitters that was still with the painting at the sale of
Hendriks’s estate in 1832 is no longer preserved, many of the figures can
nevertheless be identified with a fair degree of certainty. The two in the
middle are very probably the secretary, Jan Willem Berg who gestures to the
viewer’s left, and the balding treasurer, Pieter S. Crommelin. On the far
right, beneath the bas-relief on the wall, is Hendriks himself.1 The man in the
left background, pointing at one of the plaster casts on the mantelpiece, has
been recognised as Adriaan van der Willigen (1766–1841), author and art
historian avant la lettre.2 Prominently displayed against the chimneybreast are
various plaster casts. The large head of the famous Apollo Belvedere in the
middle is the most eye-catching (see p. 26, fig. 18). To the right of it is the
classical Callipygian Venus and to the left, the crouching Nymph Washing Her
Foot after Adriaen de Vries (1556–1626).3 Of the two male casts seen frontally,
that on the right is after the classical Farnese Hercules (see p. 30, fig. 32),
while that on the left is probably after a Mercury by François Duquesnoy
(1597–1643).4 Hanging on the wall above Hendriks’s head is Vulcan’s Forge, also
after Adriaen de Vries, and in the corner on the left is the life-sized cast of
another classical statue: the Venus de’ Medici (see p. 42, fig. 56).5 The casts
displayed, therefore, reproduce as a whole or in part, statues from classical
antiquity and from 16th- and 17th-century Netherlandish sculpture, which in
turn reference the Antique. The casts depicted belonged to the Haarlem Drawing
Academy, the forerunner of the College. Hendriks had bought them and the rest
of the inventory in 1795 to help pay off the academy’s debts, and he donated everything
to the Drawing College when it was founded the following year. The prime mover
behind the gift was probably the Teylers Foundation, a Haarlem body that had
been set up in 1778 to stimulate the arts and sciences. The foundation
subsidised art education in Haarlem for decades, and Hendriks was the curator
of its art collection, which was housed in the Teylers Museum.6 The fact that
these plaster casts were transferred immediately to the Drawing College
indicates how impor- tant they were for a society that promoted drawing, and
this is confirmed by the prominence they are accorded in this group portrait.
On the other hand, it should be appreciated that the supremacy of classical art
and the rules of classicism, which in fact had never been applied very strictly
in the Dutch Republic, were no longer so sacred in the Netherlands by 1800.
Members of some drawing academies often argued that genres like landscape and
scenes from everyday life in which nature was imitated literally and not
idealised, should be valued as highly as history paintings, which were
generally inspired by classical or neo-classical principles. The idea that
Adriaan van der Willigen is the man point- ing at the casts is intriguing. He
was a learned amateur and the best-versed person in the gathering when it came
to the history of the arts. He was very well aware how much they owed to the
example of ancient Greece and Rome. A few years after this painting was
executed he wrote an essay in the Verhandelingen uitgegeven door Teyler’s
Tweede Genootschap (Discourses published by Teylers Second Society) discussing
‘the cause of the lack of superior history painters in the Netherlands, and the
means suitable for their training’. He praised his countrymen for their
colouring, chiaroscuro, fidelity to nature and brushwork, yet accused them of
impre- cise drawing, inelegant compositions and bad taste. What, Van der
Willigen asked, could be done to overcome these defects? To draw from the
‘purest casts in plaster of the finest classical statues, busts and
bas-reliefs’! And he then gave a list of the well-known canon of classical
sculpture, which included the Apollo Belvedere, the Laocoön, the Venus de’
Medici and the Belvedere Torso.7 In short, he was utterly convinced of the
importance of classical sculpture and its formative nature. For him, it was
clearly still of paramount importance. mp 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 For the various
identifications see Haarlem 1972, p. 25 and Haarlem 1990, pp. 35–36. The Van
der Willigen identification was made by A. Staring (1956, p. 174) and has been
adopted by other authors (see above, note 1). According to Staring, some of the
portraits were added later, when the composition had already been determined,
including that of Van der Willigen, who was not yet living in Haarlem in 1799.
Van der Willigen is best known today for writing a comprehensive collection of
biographies of artists living in the Netherlands from 1750 onwards, together
with Roeland van Eynden: Van Eynden and Van der Willigen 1816–40. For the
Callipygian Venus see Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 316–18, no. 83; Gasparri
2009–10, vol. 1, pp. 73–76, no. 31 and repr. on pp. 267–69. For the Nymph
Washing Her Foot after Adriaen de Vries: Amsterdam, Stockholm and elsewhere
1998, pp. 131–33, no. 10. For Duquesnoy’s Mercury, of which there are several
versions, some of them slightly different, see Boudon-Mauchel 2005, pp. 264–70.
For the Farnese Hercules see Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 229–32, no. 46;
Gasparri 2009–10, vol. 3, pp. 17–20, no. 1, pp. 208–13. For the Venus de’
Medici see Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 325–28, no. 88, and for De Vries’
Vulcan’s Forge see Amsterdam, Stockholm and elsewhere 1998, pp. 187–89, no. 27.
The plaster casts stood in the top front room of the house in Klein Heiligland.
For a description of the house and of Hendriks’ involvement with the casts, see
Sliggers 1990, no. 26, pp. 16–17. Van der Willigen 1809, p. 282 (colouring
etc.), p. 298 (plaster casts). 216 217 32. Woutherus Mol (Haarlem
1785–1857 Haarlem) The Young Draughtsman c. 1820 Oil on canvas 52.3 × 42.6 cm
provenance: A. Pluym; his sale, R.W.P. de Vries, A. Brondgeest, C.F. Roos,
Amsterdam, 24 November 1846, p. 7, no. 22; sold to Gerrit Jan Michaëlis
(1775–1856) for the Teylers Foundation (f 400,-) literature: Van Eynden and Van
der Willigen 1816–40, vol. 4, p. 244; Huebner 1942, p. 69, fig. 63; Knoef
1947b, pp. 8–10, repr.; Van Holthe tot Echten 1984, pp. 60–63, fig. 4; Jonkman
2010, p. 35; Geudeker 2010, p. 60, p. 78, fig. 74. exhibitions: Amsterdam 1822,
no. 222; Moscow and Haarlem 2013–14, p. 50 (not numbered). Teylers Museum,
Haarlem, KS 015 exhibited in haarlem only A young draughtsman sitting by
an open window is engrossed in his work. He seems to be copying the object
leaning against the wall in front of him, but whether it is a drawing or a
bas-relief is not entirely clear. The tree visible through the window and the
building beyond it stand in a garden or by a narrow canal-side street. The
colourful flowers in a vase on the windowsill bring a touch of that outside
world indoors. The leaded windows, ceiling beams, whitewashed walls and above
all the ornately carved cup- board show that this is an old Dutch interior.
Standing on the cupboard are imposing plaster casts of famous classical
statues: the Dancing Faun, the Venus de’ Medici (p. 42, fig. 56) Fig. 1.
Woutherus Mol, Painter and Draughtsman in a Studio, c. 1820, oil on canvas,
43.5 × 37 cm, present whereabouts unknown and an unidentified statue of the
Apollo Citharoedus type.1 It is difficult to make out whether the other objects
also record classical prototypes: a bas-relief, a baby’s head, a couching lion
and a vase with prominent handles. The interior is bathed in a serene calm, so
much so that the song of the little bird in the cage high up on the wall is
almost audible. One scholar recently put forward a fascinat- ing argument that
the picture is a commentary on the Classicist view of art.2 If the tree and the
bouquet of flowers are interpreted as ‘nature’, and the plaster casts as
‘classical antiquity’, then the young draughtsman is occupying a special
position, mid-way between them. According to that view of art, nature had to be
idealised with the aid of beautiful examples, and such examples were available
in abundance in classical antiquity. Statues like the Venus de’ Medici, the
Apollo Belvedere and the Dancing Faun had been for centuries part of the canon
of the most treasured sculptures. At the same time, however, Mol is remaining
true to his Dutch origins, for he has very clearly set The Young Draughtsman in
a traditional Dutch interior. A similar painting by him, Painter and
Draughtsman in a Studio (fig. 1), is again set in a typical 17th-century Dutch
space, with a wooden cross window, ‘Kussenkast’ cupboard, and a massive table
with ball feet. It too contains a prominent display of classical sculpture.3
The apprentice draughtsman is copying a plaster cast of the Dancing Faun, and
on the cupboard are casts of the same Apollo Citharoedus that we see in our
picture, a reproduction of the so-called Priestess in the Capitoline Museum,
and another of the Farnese Hercules (see p. 30, fig. 32 and cat. 7, fig. 3).
Standing beside the cupboard there is even a copy after a classical vase,
probably the famous Borghese Vase.4 Deliberately or not, the combination of
classical art and a 17th-century Dutch setting relates Mol’s two studio scenes
directly to the debate about the ‘national taste’ being con- ducted in the
Netherlands around 1800 and for some decades 218 219 thereafter. It
was felt that Dutch painting was in a deplorable state: essays were written
about how standards could be raised and competitions were held to encourage
improve- ments. Classical sculpture was regularly invoked: it was only logical
that Dutch painters were lagging behind, it was said, given the absence of
classical statues in Holland, and drawing academies should therefore acquire
copies after antique statues (see cat. 31), and so on.5 Reading between the
lines, though, one sees that the same writers were often great admirers of
17th-century Dutch painting. The painters of that Golden Age had paid little
heed to Classicist art theory; they imitated nature and did not idealise it.
Mol’s two studio scenes contain elements that can be associated with both
artistic theories. He was very much at home in both worlds. Born in Haarlem, he
had received an old- fashioned Dutch training with the landscapist Hermanus van
Brussel (1763–1815). In 1806, however, he went to Paris, where he worked for
several years, partly as an élève in the framework of the new arts policy of
King Louis Napoleon of Holland (1778–1846), apprenticed to none other than
Jacques Louis David (1748–1825). In other words, classicist views about art
were well-known to him. 33. Anonymous, Danish School, 19th century Two Artists
and a Guard in the Antique Room at Charlottenborg Palace c. 1835 Oil on canvas,
38.6 × 33.9 cm provenance: Private collection, Denmark; Thomas Le Claire
Kunsthandel, Hamburg with Daxer & Marschall, Munich in 2003 (as Knud
Andreassen Baade), from whom acquired. literature: Zahle 2003, p. 271, fig. 117
(as Julius Friedlænder (?)); Copenhagen 2004, pp. 110–11, no. 8, fig. 16 (as
unknown artist); Fuchs and Salling 2004, vol. 3, pp. 194–95, repr. (as unknown
artist). 1 2 3 4 5 mp Haskell and Penny 1981, respectively pp. 205–08, no. 34
(Dancing Faun), pp. 325–28, no. 88 (Venus de’ Medici). T. van Druten, in Moscow
and Haarlem 2013–14, p. 50. Mak van Waay sale, Amsterdam, 26 May 1964, lot 366.
Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 205–08, no. 34 (Dancing Faun), pp. 229–32, no. 46
(Farnese Hercules), pp. 314–15, no. 81 (Borghese Vase). For the Priestess in
the Capitoline Museum see Stuart Jones 1912, p. 345, no. 6, pl. 86; Helbig
1963–72, vol. 2, no. 1227. Koolhaas-Grosfeld and De Vries 1992, pp. 119, 128.
exhibitions: Not previously exhibited. Katrin Bellinger collection, inv. no.
2003-028 The Antique Room of the Copenhagen Academy of Fine Arts, housed in
Charlottenborg Palace, was a popular choice of subject for 19th-century
Scandinavian art students, such as H. D. C. Martens (1795–1864), Martinus
Rørbye (1803–48) and Christian Købke (1810–48). The Academy was founded in 1754
by King Frederik V, but an informal art school had been established in 1740 by
his predecessor, Christian VI, so that there was already a small collection of
casts for the students to study, including one of the Laocöon, but with the
older son missing.1 The Academy’s programme was modelled on those of others
across Europe, especially that in Paris, in which plaster copies after antique
models served as the basis for the instruction of artists; in some cases casts
were even valued above the originals because they made details more readily
accessible to copyists. The expansion of the collection was primarily due to
the efforts of three mem- bers of the Academy: a professor of sculpture,
Christoph Petzholdt (1708–62), who contributed twenty-five casts and restored
many others that had suffered from being moved too often;2 the sculptor and
Academy Fellow Johannes Wiedewelt (1731–1802), who in 1758 sent three large
chests of casts back to Denmark from Rome;3 and the painter and sculptor
Nicolai Abildgaard (1743–1809), who was appointed Director in 1789 and
purchased several casts, including Germanicus and the Belvedere Torso, and the
missing son of the Laocoön.4 The cast collection focused mainly on Roman
copies, and it was not until the first decades of the 19th century that casts
of Greek originals were added.5 This was characteristic of academies across
Europe, which began to recognise the value of the Greek originals over their Roman
derivations, thus diverging from Italian academic tradition. In the painting on
display, an artist in his work-robe holds up a plumb-line to check the vertical
axis of the cast that he is sketching. He draws his copy on a sheet attached to
a drawing-board that rests on his lap, and his portfolio crammed with other
drawings leans against a stool in front of him, along with his discarded top
hat and cravat. A fellow artist considers his handiwork, but they are about to
be interrupted by a museum guard bearing a scroll. When it was acquired in
2003, this canvas was attributed to the Norwegian artist, Knud Andreassen Baade
(1808–79), whose painting of the same room now belongs to the National Museum
of Art, Architecture and Design in Oslo (fig. 1), and also features a
draughtsman at work, holding up a stylus to check the horizontal reference line
of his subject. The depic- tion of the room in the Oslo painting, which is
dated 1828, just precedes its renovation later that year when, under the
direction of the architect C. F. Hansen (1756–1845), the walls were plastered
smooth, as seen in the painting on display here.6 A comparison of the two
canvases shows the way the room was modified to accommodate the growing
collection, as casts were shifted around according to aesthetic, thematic or
chronological principles. In the Oslo painting, the Borghese Gladiator (see p.
41, fig. 54 and cats 16, 23–24) is placed in the extreme left foreground,
creating a diagonal perspective. The same technique is used in the present painting,
though it is now a statue of Perseus that anchors the work, with his
outstretched hand grasping a missing Medusa’s head. The Perseus was created in
1801 by Antonio Canova (1757–1822), Fig. 1. Knud Andreassen Baade, Scene from
the Academy in Copenhagen, 1828, oil on canvas, 32.4 × 23.8 cm, The National
Museum of Art, Architecture and Design, Oslo, inv. no. NG.M.01589 220
221 Fig. 2. Relief of an Eagle with a Wreath, 2nd century ad,
marble, church of Santi Apostoli, Rome who donated a cast of it to the Academy
in 1804, thereby becoming a member. Another modern sculpture hangs on the upper
wall at left, which is a roundel with an allegory of Justice, in which Nemesis
reads a list of the guilty to Jupiter, who sits in judgment. This was the work
of Bertel Thorvaldsen (1770–1844), the leading sculptor in Europe after
Canova’s death, who had been trained in the Academy.7 Also modern is the bust
of Frederik V at the end of the room by the sculptor J. F. J. Saly (1717–76).8
The remaining casts in the room are of antique statues and reliefs, and extant
inventory lists attest to the dates of their acquisition.9 The relief of the
eagle in a wreath, after the original in the church of Santi Apostoli in Rome
(fig. 2), is displayed on the wall above a reduced copy of a frieze, taken from
the Parthenon, both of which were transferred to this southern wall as part of
the 1828 reconstruction.10 Facing the viewer and leaning on a column is a
reproduction of the Marble Faun (fig. 3). This was a relatively overlooked
sculp- ture, more valued for its conjectural attribution to Praxiteles Fig. 3.
Marble Faun, Roman copy, c. 2nd century ad, after a Greek original of the 4th
century bc, marble, 170.5 cm (h), Capitoline Museums, Rome, inv. no. S.739 Fig.
4. Germanicus, Roman, c. 20 ad, after a Greek original of the 5th century bc,
marble, 180 cm (h), Louvre, Paris, inv. no. MA1207 than for its aesthetic
significance. It did not achieve world- renown until the publication of The
Marble Faun by Nathaniel Hawthorne in 1860, after which it became one of the
highlights of the Capitoline Museum.11 Behind the Faun stands a cast of
Germanicus (fig. 4), which, in contrast to the Faun, was one of the most
revered antiquities almost from its discovery in the mid-17th century.12 Casts
of it were commissioned for collections across Europe, including Florence,
Mannheim, Madrid and the Duke of Devonshire’s collection at Chatsworth in
Derbyshire. The identity of this figure is uncertain, and it has been thought
by different scholars to represent Augustus, Brutus, Mercury or an anonymous
Roman general; however, its identification as Germanicus, nephew of Tiberius,
has persisted since 1664.13 Between Perseus and the Faun is the seated figure
of Mercury, cast after the bronze original discovered in Herculan- eum in 1758
(fig. 5). It was one of the most celebrated archaeo- logical discoveries of the
18th century, and its presence is critical to the dating of the Bellinger
painting because the cast was only acquired by the Academy in 1834, thus provid-
ing a terminus post quem and supporting for it a date of c. 1835.14 This
precludes the authorship of Baade, who left Copenhagen in 1829 and spent the
early 1830s travelling in his native Norway. In 1836 he followed his mentor,
the landscapist J. C. C. Dahl (1788–1857), to Germany, where he lived until his
death in 1879.15 Jan Zahle tentatively proposed that the painter was Julius
Friedlænder (1810–61),16 who is also thought to be the artist of another
painting of the Antique Room in Charlottenborg, dated 1832 (current whereabouts
unknown).17 To commemorate the 250th anniversary of the 222
223 Fig. 5. Seated Mercury, Roman copy, 1st century ad, after a Greek
original of the late 4th century or early 3rd century bc, bronze, 105 cm (h),
Museo Archeologico Nazionale, Naples, inv. NM 5625 Academy in 2004, the
Bellinger painting was presented in the accompanying exhibition catalogue as by
an unknown artist,18 and until further evidence comes to light, it is prudent
to maintain its anonymity. While the Academy continues to function, the cast
collection was relocated and dispersed several times; first in 1883, due to
lack of space, to a new building. The pieces by Thorvaldsen were transferred to
his eponymous museum, founded during his lifetime in 1839 and opened to the
public in 1848. In 1895 the rest of the collection was absorbed into the newly
created Royal Cast Collection, which shared a building with the newly founded
National Gallery of Art, in Copenhagen.19 These casts were neglected over the
subse- quent years, as interest in plaster copies waned in favour of original
and unique works of art. When the museum under- went renovations from 1966 to
1970, the majority of the casts were packed away and allowed to deteriorate.
Only in 1984, due to the combined efforts of concerned art historians,
classical archaeologists and artists, were thousands of casts rescued and
restorations begun. They were rehoused in the West India Company Warehouse,
Fig. 6. Antique Room in Charlottenborg Palace recreated in 2004, curated by
Pontus Kjerrman and Jan Zahle, with sculptor Bjørn Nørgaard originally a
storehouse for products of the slave trade, and approximately 2,000 casts can
be seen on display there. The Faun and Germanicus both belong to this
collection, while Canova’s Perseus was transferred to the Ny Carlsberg
Glyptotek. However, in 2004, as part of the anniversary exhibition, replicas of
these casts were reunited in the Antique Room of the Palace, just as seen in
numerous 19th-century paintings, such as this one. A visitor in 2004,
therefore, could stand in the very same spot as our anony- mous painter, and
witness a nearly identical scene (fig. 6). literature:None. exhibitions: Not
previously exhibited. Katrin Bellinger collection, inv. no. 1997-020 In this
striking candlelight view of a 19th-century bourgeois interior by the
little-known artist, Desflaches,1 a man examines a work of art displayed on an
easel but hidden from our view. In one hand he holds an oil lamp or candle,
illuminating the corner of the room in soft, golden light and casting strong
and dramatic shadows. It is exactly 10:30, according to the clock on the
mantle, and the visitor, proba- bly a connoisseur, has called on the artist at
home, presum- ably to inspect his latest work. He has removed his hat and
cloak, placed on the chair on the left, and with a pipe in hand, assumes a
relaxed yet concentrated stance. Viewing and producing art by candlelight is a
tradition that hearkens back to the Renaissance when artist-theorists, Leon
Battista Alberti (1404–72), Leonardo da Vinci (1452– 1519), Benvenuto Cellini
(1500–71) and others, advised students to draw sculpture by artificial light,
to enhance the effects of relief, three-dimensionality and shadow.2 Baccio
Bandinelli put this concept into practice, and drawing by candlelight was
central to artistic training at his academy (see cats 1–2). Others followed
suit including Jacopo Tintoretto and his followers who used an oil lamp when
making studies after casts of Michelangelo’s Medici tomb figures and other
models ‘so that he could compose in a powerful and solidly modelled manner by
means of those strong shadows cast by the lamp’.3 The practice of drawing after
models, especially casts, at night continued in the 17th century, as seen in
Rembrandt’s small etching, Man Drawing from a Cast, (c. 1641).4 Nocturnal
viewings became common in the late 18th century; white casts were popularly
studied by flickering torchlight because it made them appear animated.5 Indeed,
the spectators’ delight is clearly evident in William Pether’s mezzotints,
Three Persons Viewing the Gladiator by Candlelight (1769) 6 and An Academy
(1772; cat. 24), both after Joseph Wright of Derby. The female model in the
Bellinger painting is a reduced plaster cast of the Crouching Venus – a Hellenistic
original of which several antique variations are known (fig. 1).7 The figure
was enormously popular, especially in the 17th and 18th centuries when many
artists produced imitations of her, the most celebrated being the marble
completed in 1686 by the French sculptor, Antoine Coysevox (1640–1720), also
reproduced in bronze.8 She is generally believed to represent Venus in, or
emerging from, the bath, her head turned sharply to the right and her arms
sensuously and protec- tively crossing her body, suggesting that her ablutions
have been interrupted. In Desflaches’ canvas the Crouching Venus has been
brightly lit and given primacy of place, suggesting she may be the subject of
the canvas displayed on the easel; her animation is enhanced by the direct gaze
with which she engages the viewer. While the cast in our painting probably
ultimately derives from the antique marble in the Uffizi, it seems to have been
idealised and modified, to reflect a dis- tinctively Coysevesque sensibility,
evidenced in the refined and delicate features of her face.9 Other identifiable
works in the Desflaches composition include a second plaster cast – a male
portrait bust – partly visible on the covered table in the background, to the
visitor’s right. He probably derives from the marble head of a young man in the
Museo Pio-Clementino in the Vatican (Roman, 1st Fig. 1. Crouching Venus, Roman
copy, 1st c. ad after Hellenistic original, marble, 78 cm (h), Uizi, Florence,
inv. no. 188 Zahle 2003, p. 272. For the
history of the Copenhagen Academy see Meldahl and Johansen 1904. Saabye 1980,
p. 6 and Zahle 2003, p. 272 Zahle 2003, p. 272. Jørnæs 1970, p. 52. Zahle 2003,
p. 275. Jørnæs 1970, p. 58. Helsted 1972, p. lxxxvi. Copenhagen 2004, p. 201
(S85). An inventory from 1809 is especially extensive (Fortegnelse over
Marmor-og Gibs-Figurerne, samt Receptions-Stykkerne og flere Konstsager i Den
Kongelige Maler-, Billedhugger- og Bygnings-Academie paa Charlottenborg,
partially transcribed in Zahle 2003, p. 269) and records were kept for several
years by the art historian Julius Lange (see, for example, Lange 1866).
Copenhagen 2004, p. 198 (S51) and p. 199 (S61). Haskell and Penny 1981, p. 210;
La Rocca and Parisi Presicce 2010, pp. 446–51, no. 5. Haskell and Penny 1981,
p. 219. Ibid., p. 220. Copenhagen 2004, p. 200 (S72). Thieme-Becker 1907–50,
vol. 2, p. 297. Zahle 2003, p. 271. Copenhagen 2004, p. 110, no. 7. Ibid., p.
110, no. 8. Zahle 2003, p. 278. 34. Desflaches (Christian name unknown;
probably Belgian, fl. 19th century) The Connoisseur c. 1850 Oil on canvas, 60 ×
50 cm Signed recto lower right, Desflaches provenance: Galerie Fischer-Kiener,
Paris; property of a European Foundation; their sale, Sotheby’s, New York, 26
October 1990, lot 144; Didier Aaron Inc., New York; Harry Bailey, New York;
Didier Aaron Inc., New York; Their sale, Christie’s, New York, 22 May 1997, lot
116, from whom acquired. 224 225 Fig. 2. Head of
Lucius or Gaius Caesar, or the Young Octavian (Augustus), 52 cm (h), marble,
possibly end of the 1st c. ad or later, Museo Pio-Clementino, Vatican Museums,
Rome, inv. 714 Fig. 3. Godfried Schalcken (1643–1706), An Artist and a Young
Woman by Candlelight, oil on canvas, 44 × 35 cm, private collection, New
York century ad; fig. 2).10 This bust, believed to be either one of the
brothers, Lucius or Gaius Caesar, or a rare depiction of the young Octavian
before he became Emperor Augustus in 27 bc,11 enjoyed considerable popularity
and was copied by many artists, particularly in the 19th century. Its authen-
ticity has occasionally been doubted – at one point it was even attributed to
the neo-classical sculptor, Antonio Canova (1757–1822) – but the confirmation
of its discovery by Robert Fagan in the ruins of Tor Boacciana (Ostia) in
1800–02, supports its antique origin despite it being consid- erably
reworked.12 In addition to works deriving from antique sources are others that
directly reference Dutch art of the 17th century. Immediately behind the
Crouching Venus is what appears to be a pencil drawing after Rembrandt’s celebrated
etching, Self Portrait Leaning on a Stone Sill (1639).13 It is in the same
direction as the etching though the line is faint and the lower half of the
figure, with the distinctively posed left arm, has been omitted altogether,
suggesting the source was either a later impression of the print or a further,
reduced copy of the original. To the right of the Rembrandt, is a moonlit
landscape strongly reminiscent of the work of Aert van der Neer (1603/4–77). On
the opposite wall is a portrait of a man, possibly by, or at least in the
manner of, the portraitist and genre painter, Frans Hals (1582/83–1666). Partly
obscured in shadow below appears to be a drawing, possibly by Jan van Goyen
(1596–1656), or one of his contemporaries. As the distinctive trappings would
suggest, the artist may well be Dutch, and this is supported further by a com-
parison with a painting by Godfried Schalcken (1643–1706) in a private
collection, New York (fig. 3), which may have been known to Desflaches. A pupil
of Gerrit Dou (1613–75), Schalcken specialised in night scenes; here a man,
drawing in hand, presumably the artist, with his female pupil, points
suggestively to a small but lively model of the Crouching Venus, animatedly
illuminated by an oil lamp; clearly there is more 226 than just a drawing
lesson at play here. An antique head lies dormant, face-up on the table below.
By the 19th century, the Antique was readily available, even to amateur
artists, via plaster casts, as Desflaches’ composition suggests. Ancient sculpture
could now readily be combined with art of different types and in diverse
settings, both on the continent – seen, for instance, in the work of Woutherus
Mol (cat. 32), which also features Dutch and antique motifs – and in England
(cat. 35). As the canon became more diffuse, the standing of the Antique also
declined, as other styles, historical and modern, became increasingly more
dominant as the century progressed. The painting bears that name at lower
right. In the Christie’s catalogue, New York, 22 May 1997, lot 116, the initial
of the first name is given as ‘P’, without explanation, and the nationality,
French/Belgian. A painting attributed to the artist, Still Life with Brass Oil
Lamp, Skeleton Key and Pitcher, oil on canvas, 33 × 29.2 cm, was sold New Orleans
Auction Galleries, 20 July 2002, lot 324 (as P. Desflaches). Weil-Garris 1981,
pp. 246–47, note 39; Roman 1984, p. 83; Hegener 2008, p. 401. Ridolfi 1914,
vol. 2, p. 14; Ridolfi 1984, p. 16. White and Boon 1969, vol. 1, p. 68, no.
B130, vol. 2, p. 119, repr. Borbein 2000, p. 31 (see also note 23 listing
further bibliography on night- time viewing of casts). Clayton 1990, p. 236,
no. 154, P3. Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 321–23, no. 86, fig. 171. The authors
catalogue the example in the Uffizi, Florence, but discuss the other extant
versions as well. See Lullie 1954, pp. 10–17 and Havelock 1995, pp. 80–83.
Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 40, fig. 22, 323. The marble version is in the
Louvre and the bronze, at Versailles (Souchal 1977–93, vol. 1, pp. 191–92). The
cast in the painting bears a striking resemblance to one preserved in the
Salzburg Museum, Austria, another idealisation of the original in the Uffizi,
see http://www.salzburgmuseum.at/972.0.html It was in the collection of the
painter, Anton Raphael Mengs (1728–79). In 1782, the Court of Saxony acquired
it, among other casts from his estate, for the Dresden Academy of Art. Spinola
1996–2004, vol. 2, pp. 131, fig. 22, 137–38, no. 123 with previous
bibliography. Spinola 1996–2004, vol. 2, p. 137. Ibid. White and Boon 1969,
vol. 1, pp. 9–10, no. B21, vol. 2, p. 10, repr. 227 35. William Daniels
(Liverpool 1813–1880 Liverpool) Self-Portrait with Casts: The Image Seller c.
1850 Oil on canvas, feigned circle, 43.3 × 43.3 cm provenance: Richard S. Timewell,
Tangier, by descent; Timewell family sale, Brissonneau & Daguerre, Paris,
15 June 2005, lot 56; W. M. Brady & Co., New York, 2005, from whom
acquired. literature: Bowyer 2013, pp. 49–50, fig. 36. exhibitions: New York
2005b, no. 13, repr.; Compton Verney and Norwich 2009–10, pp. 12–16, fig. 9, p.
98. Katrin Bellinger collection, inv. no. 2005-016 Born into a modest
working-class family in Liverpool, Daniels was apprenticed to his father, a
brick maker, loading and arranging new stock; in his spare time, he drew faces
on the bricks and carved and modelled small figures in wood and clay.1 His
artistic talents were recognised by Alexander Mosses (1793–1837), a local
painter, who encouraged him to take evening classes in drawing at the Royal
Institution in Liverpool. The young Daniels was awarded first prize for a large
study ‘in black and white’ of the Dying Gladiator ‘drawn from the round’ which,
allegedly, Mosses ‘begged ... off the lad and had ... framed’.2 Daniels later
became apprenticed to the painter but was confined to menial tasks, and could
only paint at night, slyly returning the cleaned brushes in the morning.3 The
resulting night scenes or ‘candlelight pic- tures’, primarily portraits and
genre subjects, would become his trademark and he achieved considerable local
success, exhibiting at the Liverpool Academy, Post Office Place and the
Liverpool Society of Fine Arts, and then in London at the Royal Academy in
1840, 1841 and 1846.4 He became known as the ‘Liverpool Rembrandt’ or the
‘English Rembrandt’, according to one source reputedly quoting John Ruskin.5
Daniels also shared with the Dutch master a life-long pre- occupation with his
own image; ‘many of his finest painting were portraits of himself’, as noted in
one of his obituaries.6 And like the youthful Rembrandt he was particularly
fond of depicting those on the fringes of society with whom he seemed to share
a certain affinity, often representing himself in the guise of the urban poor –
beggars, gypsies, brigands and others.7 Described by one biographer as ‘of
fine, manly form, very handsome’ with ‘a profusion of jet black curly hair’ and
a swarthy complexion, it was sometimes said of him that there was ‘gypsy blood
in his veins’ and that wear- ing earrings only enhanced his ‘resemblance to the
wander- ing tribe.’8 In the striking example seen here, Daniels has fashioned
himself as an Italian travelling salesman of plaster casts, a popular subject
for Victorian artists.9 With the increasing demand for images in museums,
schools and academies but also as adornments in ordinary homes, celebrated 228
sculptures from antiquity, together with portraits of modern worthies, were
mass-produced in plaster, generally in reduced form.10 The technique was simple
and inexpensive: a mixture of marl and clay was poured into a slip mould of
plaster of Paris that absorbed the water, leaving a thin layer of clay inside
the mould that could be easily removed, lightly fired, producing a brittle but
light-weight and easily portable cast.11 Favourite antique and contempo- rary
subjects – including the Farnese Hercules and the Apollo Belvedere as well as
busts of Byron, Milton, Napoleon and Queen Victoria – were now displayed and
offered for sale together.12 While English firms had been manufacturing casts
since the 18th century, the market became increasingly dominated by Italian
makers, particularly from around Lucca who organised large groups to sell their
wares on the streets of London and beyond.13 Having considerable reach through
their travels, these vendors played a seminal role in disseminating knowledge
of the iconic works of antiquity through all classes of society.14 The British
public regarded the image-makers and sellers, men and boys from forty to
fifteen with curiosity and with some suspicion.15 One of the earliest images of
them is an amusing caricature by Thomas Rowlandson (1757–1827) in the Victoria
and Albert Museum, London (c. 1799, fig. 1). Appearing dishevelled with
unbuttoned shirt and jacket, the salesman peddles his wares to an enthusiastic
family while a woman watches a peep show in the background. A slightly later
example, accompanied by the title, Very Fine. Very Cheap, was etched by John
Thomas Smith (1766–1833), known as ‘Antiquity Smith’, the writer, poet and
Keeper of Prints and Drawings at the British Museum from 1816 to 1833 (fig.
2).16 On the seller’s board, a reduced cast of the Farnese Hercules (see p. 30,
fig. 32) has been relegated to the background, obscured by a cast of a Roman
vase. With a slightly sinister glint in his eyes, this figure was included in
Smith’s Etchings of Remarkable Beggars, Itinerant Traders and other Persons,
published in London, 1815. William James Muller (1812–45) produced a more
sympathetic, even romantic portrayal of the itinerant cast seller in 1843 (fig.
3). More closely allied to the Daniels’ 229 Copyright: © Christie’s
Images Limited (2012) painting than the others, this hawker is less an object
of derision than one of wonder, even admiration.17 In the present example,
Daniels, dressed in modest work- man’s attire and silhouetted against a dark
backdrop, bal- ances on his head a board fully loaded with a casts of every
shape and size, securing it with one hand. Many were based on examples in his
own collection, probably used in his studio to prepare accessories in his
portrait commissions. Immediately recognisable in the centre right is the bust
of Shakespeare, whom Daniels particularly admired. He was said to have a deep
familiarity with the poet’s work and could identify the exact source for every
quotation, ‘without a moment’s hesitation’.18 In fact, busts of the bard are
listed in Daniel’s posthumous sale of 1880, one of which is likely to be the
example seen here.19 With the other arm, he cradles a bust of Homer, the blind
epic poet of the Iliad and the Odyssey, another favourite of Daniel’s as noted
by his biographer.20 The source for this cast was a Roman marble of the
Antonine period (138-93 ad, after a lost Hellenistic original of c. 300 bc),
probably the version preserved in the Museo Archeo- logico Nazionale di Napoli
(fig. 4).21 Known in several variants after the same lost Greek original, this
is arguably the most celebrated image of Homer from antiquity and was used by
many artists; arguably the most famous example is Rembrandt’s Aristotle with a
Bust of Homer which passed through various English private collections in the
19th century (now Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York), and 230 which Daniels
was probably referencing, reinforcing his association with both poet and
artist.22 The other casts on the tray in the painting appear to reproduce a
mixture of English and French works of the mid- to late 18th and 19th century.
They include the brightly coloured parrot, probably based on a Staffordshire
porcelain example, c. 1850, after a Meissen original of the 18th century, and
the hooded figure on the front left, possibly an adapta- tion of ‘La Nourrice’
(Nurse and Child) modelled by Joseph Willems at Chelsea (c. 1752–58), after a
French terracotta original of the 17th century.23 Popular images of the three
Fig. 4. Bust of Homer, marble, 72 cm (h), Roman Antonine period after a lost
Hellenistic original of c. 300 bc, Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Napoli, inv.
6023 theological virtues, Faith, Hope and Charity, made by the Wood family at
Burslem in Staffordshire, 1800–10, appear to be the inspiration behind some of
the other figures on the tray: Hope at the far right, seen in profile with
hands clasped; Faith, directly behind the parrot; and Charity, seen from the
back, behind the Nurse and Child.24 It has also been suggested that the bust of
a boy seen from the back, directly above Daniels’ right hand, might be
Alexandre Brongniart (1777) by Jean-Antoine Houdon (1741–1828), known in
examples in marble, terracotta, bronze, plaster and biscuit porcelain.25 Daniels
appears to be between thirty-five and forty years old in this painting,
slightly older than his self-portrait at the easel of c. 1845 in the Walker Art
Gallery, Liverpool (fig. 5); a completion date of around 1850 therefore seems
likely.26 The theme of the cast vendor clearly intrigued Daniels for he would
return to it again about twenty years later. In An Italian Image Seller (1870;
Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool; fig. 6), the protagonist (probably Daniels
again) rests on the wall of an 27 English country lane. The tray is no longer
present but on the ground to his right are two casts, one, a Mercury, the
other, the nymph, Clytie (sometimes identified as Antonia, daughter of Mark
Antony and mother of the Emperor Claudius). The marble original of the nymph,
acquired in Naples by the Grand Tour collector, Charles Townley (1737– 1805)
and reportedly his favourite, is now in the British Museum.28 Copies of the
popular statue were made in porce- lain by the firm Copeland from 1855 and it
has been suggested that Daniels based his depiction on one of them.29 Daniels
certainly owned a copy of the Clytie and other busts after the Antique
including a Jupiter, Apollo, Diana and Laocoön, ‘which he treated with almost
reverential admiration’.30 As Daniels’ Image Seller shows, by the mid-19th
century iconic antique statues, once rarefied models of ideal beauty, were now
commercialised and readily available on the open Fig. 5. William Daniels,
Self-Portrait, c. 1845, oil on canvas, 91.5 × 71.7 cm, Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool,
WAG 1724 Fig. 6. William Daniels, An Italian Image Seller, 1870, oil on canvas,
80 × 63.5 cm, Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool, WAG 3114 market through
mass-produced casts. While the Antique continued to be central to the education
of artists both in the studio and in the academy, it became an ubiquitous
presence in the home, especially in middle-class interiors where reductions of
famous statues were displayed alongside works from other periods, sometimes
even assuming a secondary role to them. The amalgamation of styles and
influences, in which Ancient, Byzantine, Gothic, Renaissance and Modern were
placed on equal footing, was, by the mid-19th century, the result of an
historicist aesthetic in which the Antique had become just one of the possible
artistic references, thus losing its canonical status and aesthetic
primacy. Rowlandson, An Image Seller, c. 1799, watercolour, 326 × 264 mm,
Victoria and Albert Museum, London, no. 1820-1900 Fig. 2. John Thomas Smith,
Very Fine. Very Cheap, c. 1815, etching, 192 × 114 mm (plate); 267 × 185 mm
(sheet), from Etchings of Remarkable Beggars, Itinerant Traders and other
Persons, published in London, 31 December 1815, National Portrait Gallery,
London, Reference collection D40098 Fig. 3. William James Muller, The Plaster
Figure Seller, oil on canvas, 82.5 × 52.1 cm, sold Christie’s, London, 6
November 2012, lot 333. avl An extensive tribute to Daniels was published
anonymously in serial form in the Liverpool Lantern (1880), by his friend, K.
C. Spier, editor of the paper. It may be consulted at:
http://art-science.com/WDaniels/LLessay.html where the artist’s obituaries and
private letters and notes also are transcribed, some of which are referred to
in Spier’s essay (cited here as Spier 1880). For other accounts of his life and
work, see Tirebuck 1879; The Magazine of Art, 5, June 1882, pp. 341–43;
Marillier 1904, pp. 95–98; Thieme- Becker 1907–50, vol. 8, pp. 362–63; Fastnege
1951; Bennett 1978, vol. 1, p. 79. Spier 1880, chapter 4. The drawing,
presumably after a cast of the famous sculpture in the Capitoline Museum, Rome
(see cat. 20, fig. 2) remains untraced. Spier 1880, chapter 4. Marillier 1904,
pp. 96–97; Fastnege 1951, p. 80; Bennett 1978, vol. 1, p. 79. Obituary,
Liverpool Journal, 16 October 1880; Liverpool Mercury 15 April 1884; Daily Post
Liverpool, June 1908. Liverpool Journal, 16 October 1880. Representations of
the urban poor in British art was an increasingly popu- lar genre from around
the mid-18th century onwards. See Hansen 2010. Spier 1880, chapter 5. Lambourne
1982; Compton Verney and Norwich 2009–10, p. 13. For the history and use of
casts, see Borbein 2000. For a translation in English by Bernard Fischer, see
http://www.digitalsculpture.org/casts/ borbein/index.html For British cast
makers and/or sellers in the 18th to early 19th c., see Clifford 1992 and for
the 19th c., Haskell and Penny 1981, pp. 117–24; Lambourne 1982; and Simon
2011. Lambourne 1982, p. 119. Ibid. Clifford 1992; Simon 2011. Lambourne 1982,
p. 121. Simon 2011 [unpaginated]. Ibid., fig. 3. For other images of the
subject, see Lambourne 1982, pp. 118–23, figs 1–10. Spier 1880, chapter 2; New
York 2005b, under no. 13. Walker & Ackerley, Liverpool, 6 December 1880,
discussed in in Spier 1880, chapter 24. The present writer has not been able to
locate a copy of this catalogue. Spier 1880, chapter 2. Richter 1965, vol. 1,
p. 50, no. IV, no. 7, figs 70–72; Gasparri 2009–10, vol. 2, pp. 15–16, no. 2
(M. Caso), pl. II, 1–4. Liedtke 2007, vol. 2, pp. 629–54, no. 151. Kindly
pointed out by Paul Crane (personal communication), who notes the following
example: Melbourne 1984–85, no. 56. As noted further by Paul Crane, who points
out their similarity to examples sold at Sotheby’s, New York, 15 April 1996,
lot 73 (personal communication). According to George Shackelford (personal
communication). See Washington D.C., Los Angeles and elsewhere 2003-04, pp.
127–32, no. 15 (G. Scherf). Bennett 1978, vol. 1, p. 80, no. 1724, vol. 2, p.
129; New York 2005b, under no. 13. Bennett 1978, vol. 1, p. 83, no. 3114, vol.
2, p. 134. Cook 1976, p. 181, fig. 144; Dodero 2013. Bennett 1978, vol. 1, p.
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kunstwerken van nog in leven zijnde Nederlandsche meesters, welke zijn
toegelaten tot de tentoonstelling van den jare 1822, Amsterdam, 1822. Amsterdam
1947–48 — Het Hollandsche babbelstuk 1730–1850, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam (A.
Staring), 1947–48. Amsterdam 1992 — Episcopius: Jan de Bisschop (1628–1671),
advocaat en tekenaar, Museum Het Rembrandthuis, Amsterdam (R. E. Jellema and M.
Plomp), 1992. Amsterdam 1993–94 — Dawn of the Golden Age. Northern
Netherlandish Art, 1580–1620, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam (G. Luijten et al.),
1993–94. Amsterdam 1994 — Nederlandse figuurstudies 1700–1850, The Rijksmuseum,
Rijksprentenkabinet, Amsterdam (R. J. A. te Rijdt), 1994. Amsterdam 1997 —
Mirror of Everyday Life. Genreprints in the Netherlands 1550–1700, Rijksmuseum,
Amsterdam (eds E. de Jongh and G. Luijten), 1997. Amsterdam 2007 — Beeld voor
beeld: klassieke sculptuur in prent, Allard Pierson Museum, Amsterdam (eds C.
Smid and A. White), 2007. Amsterdam, New York and elsewhere 2003–04 — Hendrick
Goltzius (1558–1617). Drawings, Prints and Paintings, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam;
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York; The Toledo Museum of Art (eds H. Leeflang
and G. Luijten), 2003–04. Amsterdam and Paris 2002–03 — De Watteau à Ingres:
Dessins français du XVIIIe siècle du Rijksmuseum Amsterdam, Rijksmuseum,
Amsterdam; Institut Néerlandais, Paris (ed. R. J. A. te Rijdt), 2002–03.
Amsterdam, San Francisco and elsewhere 2002 — Michael Sweerts: 1618–1664,
Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam; The Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco; Wadsworth
Atheneum Museum of Art, Hartford (eds G. Jansen and P. C. Sutton), 2002.
Amsterdam, Stockholm and elsewhere 1998 — Adriaen de Vries (1556–1626),
Imperial Sculptor, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam; National Museum, Stockholm; The J.
Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles (ed. F. Scholten), 1998. Amsterdam and
Washington D.C. 1981–82 — Dutch Figure Drawings from the Seventeenth Century,
Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam; National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C. (P.
Schatborn), 1981–82. Antwerp 1977 — P. P. Rubens. Gemälde, Ölskizzen,
Zeichnungen, Royal Museum of Fine Arts, Antwerp (eds R. A. D’Hulst et al.),
1977. Antwerp 2004 — A House of Art. Rubens as Collector, Rubenshuis, Antwerp
(eds K. Lohse Belkin and F. Healy), 2004. Antwerp 2004–07 — Rijksmuseum aan de
Schelde: meesterwerken uit de schatkamer van Nederland, Royal Museum of Fine
Arts, Antwerp, 2004–07 (no catalogue). Antwerp 2008 — Heads on Shoulders: Portrait
Busts in the Low Countries, Royal Museum of Fine Arts, Antwerp (ed. V.
Herremans), 2008. Antwerp 2013 — Kunst Antwerpen Academie 350, Museum aan de
Stroom, Antwerp (eds K. van Cauteren et al.), 2013. Arras and Épinal 2004 —
Rubens contre Poussin: la querelle du coloris dans la peinture française à la
fin du XVIIe siècle, Musée des beaux-arts d’Arras; Musée départemental d’art
ancien et contemporain à Épinal (eds E. Delapierre et al.), 2004. Athens
2003–04 — In the Light of Apollo. Italian Renaissance and Greece, National
Gallery, Alexandros Soutzos Museum, Athens (ed. M. Gregori), 2 vols, 2003–04.
Bergamo 1994 — Giacomo Quarenghi, Palazzo della Ragione, Bergamo (eds A.
Bettagno et al.), 1994. Boston, Cleveland and elsewhere 1989 — Italian Etchers
of the Renaissance & Baroque, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston; The Cleveland
Museum of Art; National Gallery of Art, Washington, D. C. (S. W. Reed and R.
Wallace), 1989. 249 Boston and St. Louis 1981–82 — Printmaking in the Age
of Rembrandt, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston; The Saint Louis Art Museum (C.
Ackley), 1981–82. Bruges 2008–09 — Stradanus 1523–1605: Court Artist of the
Medici, Groeningemuseum, Bruges (eds A. Baroni and M. Sellink), 2008–09
(published 2012). Brussels 2004 — Old Master Drawings. Organization of Antique
Fairs, Gallery Kekko, Thurn and Taxis, Brussels, 2004. Brussels 2007–08 — Alle
wegen leiden naar Rome. Reizende kunstenaars van de 16de tot de 19de eeuw,
Gemeentelijk Museum van Elsene, Brussels (D. Vautier), 2007–08 (no catalogue).
Brussels and Rome 1995 — Fiamminghi a Roma 1508–1608. Artisti dei Paesi Bassi e
del Principato di Liegi a Roma durante il Rinascimento, Palais des Beaux-Arts,
Brussels; Palazzo delle Esposizioni, Rome (eds N. Dacos and B. W. Meijer),
1995. Cambridge 1988 — Baccio Bandinelli 1493–1560: Drawings from British
Collections, Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge (R. Ward), 1988. Chicago 2007–08 —
The Virtual Tourist in Renaissance Rome: Printing and Collecting the ‘Speculum
Romanae Magnificentiae’, Special Collections Research Center, University of
Chicago (eds R. Zorach et al.), 2007–08. Choisel 1986 — Un Grand Collectionneur
sous Louis XV: Le cabinet de Jacques-Laure de Breteuil, Bailli de l’Ordre de
Malta 1723–1785, Château de Breteuil, Choisel, 1986. Cologne 1977 — Peter Paul
Rubens, 1577–1640, Museen der Stadt, Cologne, 1977. Cologne and Utrecht 1991–92
— I Bamboccianti: niederländische Malerrebellen im Rom des Barock,
Wallraf-Richartz-Museum, Cologne; Centraal Museum, Utrecht (eds D.A. Levine and
E. Mai), 1991–92. Compton Verney and Norwich 2009–10 — The Artist’s Studio,
Compton Verney and Sainsbury Centre for Visual Arts, Norwich (ed. G.
Waterfield), 2009–10. Copenhagen 1973 — ‘Maegtige Schweiz’. Inspirationer fra
Schweiz. 1750–1850, Thorvaldsens Museum, Copenhagen, 1973. Copenhagen 2004 —
Spejlinger i Gips, Det Kongelige Danske Kunstakademi, Copenhagen (eds P.
Kjerrman et al.), 2004. Derby 1997 — Joseph Wright of Derby: 1734–1797, Derby
Museum & Art Gallery (J. Wallis), 1997. Doha 2011 — The Golden Age of Dutch
Painting: Masterpieces from the Rijksmuseum Amsterdam, Museum of Islamic Art,
Doha, 2011 (no catalogue). Dordrecht 2012–13 — Portret in portret in de
Nederlandse kunst 1550–2012, Dordrechts Museum (S. Craft-Giepmans and A. de
Vries), 2012–13. Edinburgh 2002 — Rubens Drawing on Italy, National Gallery of
Scotland, Edinburgh (J. Wood), 2002. Essen 1992 — London World-City, 1800–1840,
Villa Hügel, Essen (ed. C. Fox), 1992. Florence 1980 — Il primato del Disegno,
Palazzo Strozzi, Florence (ed. L. Berti), vol. 4 of the exhibition Firenze e la
Toscana dei Medici nell’Europa del Cinquecento, 4 vols, 1980. Florence 1987 —
Michelangelo e l’arte classica, Casa Buonarroti, Florence (eds G. Agosti and V.
Farinella), 1987. Florence 1992 — Il Giardino di San Marco. Maestri e compagni
del giovane Michelangelo, Casa Buonarroti, Florence (ed. P. Barocchi), 1992.
Florence 1999-2000 — Giovinezza di Michelangelo, Palazzo Vecchio and Casa
Buonarroti, Florence (eds K. Weil-Garris Brandt et al.), 1999–2000. Florence
2002 — Venere e amore: Michelangelo e la nuova bellezza ideale, Gallerie
dell’Accademia, Florence (eds F. Falletti and J. Katz Nelson), 2002. Florence
2008 — Fiamminghi e Olandesi a Firenze. Disegni dalle collezioni degli Uffizi,
Gabinetto Disegni e Stampe degli Uffizi, Florence (eds W. Kloek and B. W.
Meijer), 2008. Florence 2014 — Baccio Bandinelli: scultore maestro (1493–1560),
Museo Nazionale del Bargello, Florence (eds D. Heikamp and B. P. Strozzi),
2014. Geneva 1978 — Johann Heinrich Füssli, Musée d’Art et d’Histoire, Musée
Rath Genève, Geneva, 1978. Göttingen 2012–13 — Abgekupfert. Roms Antiken in den
Reproduktionsmedien der Frühen Neuzeit, Kunstsammlung und Sammlung der
Gipsabgüsse, Universität Göttingen (eds M. Luchterhandt et al.), 2012–13.
Göttingen 2013–14 — Roms Antiken in den Reproduktionsmedien der frühen Neuzeit,
Kunstsammlung und Sammlung der Gipsabgüsse, University of Göttingen (eds M.
Luchterhandt et al.), 2013–14. Haarlem 1972 — Wybrand Hendriks 1744–1831. Keuze
uit zijn schilderijen en tekeningen, Teylers Museum, Haarlem (I. Q. van
Regteren Altena, J. H. van Borssum Buisman and C. J. de Bruyn Kops), 1972.
Haarlem 1990 — Augustijn Claterbos 1750–1828. Opleiding en werk van een
Haarlems kunstenaar, Teylers Museum, Haarlem (B. Sliggers), 1990. Haarlem and
London 2005–06 — Michelangelo Drawings: Closer to the Master, Teylers Museum,
Haarlem; British Museum, London (ed. H. Chapman), 2005–06. Haarlem, Zurich and
elsewhere 2006–07 — Nicolaes Berchem. Im Licht Italiens, The Frans Hals Museum,
Haarlem; The Kunsthaus, Zürich; The Staatliches Museum Schwerin (P. Biesboer et
al.), 2006–07. Hamburg 1974–75 — Johann Heinrich Füssli. 1741–1825, Hamburger
Kunshalle, Hamburg (ed. W. Hofmann), Munich, 1974–75. Hamburg 2002 — Die Masken
der Schönheit. Hendrick Goltzius und das Kunstideal um 1600, Hamburger
Kunsthalle, Hamburg (eds J. Müller et al.), 2002. Hannover 1999 — Künstler,
Händler, Sammler: zum Kunstbetrieb in den Niederlanden im 17. Jahrhundert,
Niedersächsischen Landesmuseum, Hanover (U. Wegener), 1999. Harvard and
Evanston 2011–12 — Prints and the Pursuit of Knowledge in Early Modern Europe,
Harvard Art Museums, Cambridge (MA); Mary and Leigh Block Museum of Art,
Evanston (IL) (ed. S. Dackerman), 2011–12. Heidelberg 1982 — 100 unbekannte
Zeichnungen und Aquarelle des 16.-18. Jahrhunderts, Kurpfälzisches Museum,
Heidelberg (S. Wechssler), 1982. Houston and Ithaca 2005–06 — A Portrait of the
Artist 1525–1825. Prints from the Collection of the Sarah Campbell Blaffer
Foundation, Museum of Fine Arts, Houston; Herbert F. Johnson Museum of Art,
Cornell University, Ithaca (NY) (ed. J. Clifton), 2005–06. King’s Lynn 1985 —
French Drawings of the 17th and 18th Century, Fermoy Gallery, Guildhall of St
George, King’s Lynn (ed. G. Agnew), 1985. Liverpool 1994–95 — Face to Face:
Three Centuries of Artists’ Self-Portraiture, Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool (X.
Brooke), 1994–95. Liverpool 2007 — Joseph Wright of Derby in Liverpool, Walker
Art Gallery, Liverpool (eds E. E. Barker and A. Kidson), 2007. London 1836 —
The Lawrence Gallery, One Hundred Original Drawings by Zucchero, Andrea del
Sarto, Polidore da Caravaggio and Fra Bartolomeo Collected by Sir Thomas
Lawrence, Late President of the Royal Academy, London, 1836. London 1947 —
Dutch Conversation Pieces of the 18th & 19th Centuries, The Allied Circle,
London, 1947. London 1950 — French Master Drawings of the 18th Century,
Matthiesen Gallery, London, 1950. London 1953 — Drawings by Old Masters, Royal
Academy of Arts, London (K. T. Parker and J. Byam Shaw), 1953. London 1955 — A
Loan Exhibition: Artists in 17th century Rome: to Save Gosfield Hall for the
Nation as a Residential Nursing Home . . . , Wildenstein & Co., London (D.
Mahon and D. Sutton), 1955. London 1962 — A Selection of Drawings from the Witt
Collection: French Drawings, c. 1600–c. 1800, Courtauld Institute Galleries,
London, 1962. London 1963 — Treasures of the Royal Academy, Royal Academy of
Arts, London, 1963. London 1968a — France in the Eighteenth Century, Royal
Academy of Arts, London (ed. P. Sutton), 1968. London 1968b — Royal Academy of
Arts Bicentenary Exhibition, Royal Academy of Arts, London, 1968. London 1969 —
Royal Academy Draughtsmen, 1769–1969, Royal Academy of Arts, London (A.
Wilton), 1969. London 1971 — Art into Art: Works of Art as a Source of
Inspiration, Sotheby’s, London (ed. K. Roberts), 1971. London 1972 — The Age of
Neo-Classicism, The Royal Academy of Arts and The Victoria and Albert Museum,
London, 1972. London 1975 — Henry Fuseli. 1741–1825, Tate Gallery, London,
1975. London 1977 — Rubens. Drawings and Sketches, British Museum, London (ed.
J. Rowlands), 1977. London 1983 — Bartolomeo Cavaceppi: Eighteenth-century
Restorations of Ancient Marble Sculpture from English Private Collections, The
Clarendon Gallery Ltd., London (C. A. Picón), 1983. London 1986 — Florentine Drawings
of the Sixteenth Century, British Museum, London (N. Turner), 1986. London 1990
— Wright of Derby, Tate Gallery, London (ed. J. Egerton), 1990. London 1991 —
French drawings, XVI–XIX centuries, Courtauld Institute Galleries, London (eds
G. Kennedy and A. Thackray), 1991. London 1992 — Drawings Related to Sculpture,
1520–1620, Katrin Bellinger at Harari & Johns, London, 1992. London 1995 —
Prints and Drawings, Recent acquisitions 1991–1995, British Museum, London,
1995 (no catalogue). London 1997 — British Watercolours from the Oppé
Collection, Tate Gallery, London (A. Lyles and R. Hamlyn), 1997. London 1999a —
John Soane Architect. Master of Space and Light, Royal Academy, London (eds M.
Richardson and M. Stevens), 1999. London 1999b — Portraits of Artists and
Related Subjects, Trinity Fine Art, London, 1999. London 2000 — A Noble Art:
Amateur Artists and Drawing Masters c. 1600–1800, British Museum, London (K.
Sloan), 2000. London 2001 — Marble Mania. Sculpture Galleries in England,
1640–1840, Sir John Soane’s Museum, London (R. Guilding), 2001. London 2001–02
— The Print in Italy 1550–1620, British Museum, London (M. Bury), 2001–02.
London 2003a — Artists by Artists, Chaucer Fine Arts Inc., London, 2003. London
2003b — The Museum of the Mind. Art and Memory in World Cultures, British
Museum, London (J. Mack), 2003. London 2005–06 — Rubens: A Master in the
Making, National Gallery, London (eds D. Jaffé and E. McGrath), 2005–06. London
2007–08 — The Artist in Art, Colnaghi in association with Emanuel von Baeyer,
London, 2007–08. London 2009–10 — Rubens Drawings, British Museum, Department
of Prints and Drawings, London, 2009–10 (no catalogue). London 2011 — Art
School Drawings from the 19th Century, Victoria and Albert Museum, London, 2011
(no catalogue). London 2011–12 — Leonardo da Vinci. Painter at the Court of
Milan, National Gallery, London (ed. L. Syson with L. Keith), 2011–12. London
2013–14 — The Male Nude. Eighteenth-Century Drawings from the Paris Academy,
Wallace Collection, London (eds E. Brugerolles et al.), 2013–14. London 2014 —
Diverse Maniere: Piranesi, Fantasy and Excess, Sir John Soane’s Museum, London
(ed. A. Lowe), 2014. London and Florence 2010–11 — Fra Angelico to Leonardo.
Italian Renaissance Drawings, British Museum, London; Galleria degli Uffizi,
Florence (eds H. Chapman and M. Faietti), 2010–11. London and New York 1992 —
Andrea Mantegna, Royal Academy of Arts, London; Metropolitan Museum of Art, New
York (ed. J. Martineau), 1992. London and New York 2012–13 — Master Drawings from
the Courtauld Galleries, The Courtauld Gallery, London; The Frick Collection,
New York (eds C. B. Bailey and S. Buck), 2012–13. London and Rome 1996–97 —
Grand Tour. The Lure of Italy in the Eighteenth Century, Tate Gallery, London;
Palazzo delle Esposizioni, Rome (eds A. Wilton and I. Bignamini), 1996–97.
London, Warwick and elsewhere 1997–98 — The Quick and the Dead: Artists and
Anatomy, Royal College of Art, London; Mead Gallery, Warwick Arts Centre; Leeds
City Art Gallery (D. Petherbridge and L. Jordanova), 1997–98. London, York and
elsewhere 1953 — Drawings from the Robert Witt Collection at the Courtauld
Institute of Art, London, Courtauld Institute of Art, London; York City Art
Gallery; Peterborough Art Gallery, 1953. Los Angeles 1961 — French Masters:
Rococo to Romanticism, University of California, Los Angeles, 1961. Los Angeles
1999 — The Early Life of Taddeo Zuccaro, The J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles
(A. V. Lauder; no catalogue), 1999. Los Angeles 2000 — Making a Prince’s
Museum: Drawings for the Late-Eighteenth-century Redecoration of the Villa
Borghese, Getty Research Institute, Los Angeles (C. Paul), 2000. Los Angeles
2007–08 — Taddeo and Federico Zuccaro. Artist-Brothers in Renaissance Rome, J.
Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles (ed. J. Brooks), 2007–08. Los Angeles, Austin
and elsewhere 1976–77 — Women Artists, 1550–1950, Los Angeles County Museum of
Art; University Art Museum, The University of Texas at Austin; Museum of Art,
Carnegie Institute, Pittsburgh; The Brooklyn Museum (A. Sutherland Harris and
L. Nochlin), 1976–77. Los Angeles, Philadelphia and elsewhere 1993–94 — Visions
of Antiquity. Neoclassical Figure Drawings, Los Angeles County Museum of Art;
Philadelphia Museum of Art; Minneapolis Institute of Arts (ed. R. J. Campbell),
1993–94. Los Angeles, Toledo and elsewhere 1988–89 — Mannerist Prints:
International Style in the Sixteenth Century, The Los Angeles County Museum of
Art; The Toledo Museum of Art; John and Mable Ringling Museum of Art, Sarasota;
Arthur M. Huntington Art Gallery, University of Texas at Austin; The Baltimore
Museum of Art (B. Davis), 1988–89. Lyon 1998–99 — La fascination de l’antique:
1700-1770. Rome découverte, Rome inventée, Musée de la civilisation
gallo-romaine, Lyon (eds F. De Polignac and J. Raspi Serra), 1998–99. Mantua
and Vienna 1999 — Roma e lo stile classico di Raffaello, 1515–1527, Palazzo Te,
Mantua; Graphische Sammlung Albertina, Vienna (eds A. Oberhuber and A. Gnann),
1999. Marseille 2001 — Maurice et Pauline Feuillet de Borsat collectionneurs.
Dessins français et étrangers du XVIIe au XIXe siècle, Château Borély,
Marseille (M. Roland Michel), 2001. 250 251 Melbourne 1984 — Flowers and
Fables. A Survey of Chelsea Porcelain 1745–69, National Gallery of Victoria,
Melbourne (M. Legge), 1984. Milan 1951 — Mostra del Caravaggio e dei
Caravaggeshi, Palazzo Reale, Milan (R. Longhi), 1951. Milan 1977–78 — Johann
Heinrich Füssli. Disegni e dipinti, Museo Poldi-Pezzoli, Milan (ed. L. Vitali),
1977–78. Milan 2007–08 — Leonardo. Dagli studi di proporzioni al trattato della
pittura, Castello Sforzesco, Milan (eds P. C. Marani and M. T. Fiorio),
2007–08. Milan 2013 — La Biblioteca delle meraviglie: 400 anni di Ambrosiana,
Biblioteca Ambrosiana, Milan (eds C. Continisio, M. L. Frosio and E. Riva),
2013. Montreal 1992 — The Genius of the Sculptor in Michelangelo’s Work, The
Montreal Museum of Fine Arts (P. Théberge), 1992. Moscow and Haarlem 2013–14 —
De romantische ziel. Schilderkunst uit de Nederlandse en Russische romantiek,
The Tretjakov Gallery, Moscow; Teylers Museum, Haarlem (T. van Druten and L.
Markina), 2013–14. Munich 1979–80 — Zwei Jahrhunderte englische Malerei.
Britische Kunst und Europa 1680 bis 1880, Haus der Kunst, Munich, 1979–80.
Munich 2013–14 — In the Temple of the Self. The Artist’s Residence as a Total
Work of Art, Villa Stuck, Munich (eds M. Brandhuber and M. Buhrs), 2013–14.
Munich and Cologne 2002 — Wettstreit der Künste: Malerei und Skulptur von Dürer
bis Daumier, Haus der Kunst, Munich; Wallraf-Richartz-Museum-Fondation Corboud,
Cologne (eds E. Mai and K. Wettengl), 2002. Munich and Haarlem 1986 — Op zoek
naar de Gouden Eeuw: Nederlandse schilderkunst 1800–1850, Neue Pinakothek,
Munich; Frans Hals Museum, Haarlem (L. van Tilborgh and G. Jansen), 1986.
Munich and Rome 1998–99 — Der Torso. Ruhm und Rätsel / Il Torso del Belvedere.
Da Aiace a Rodin, Glyptothek, Munich; Musei Vaticani, Rome (ed. R. Wünsche),
1998–99. Münster 1976 — Bilder nach Bilder. Druckgrafik und die Vermittlung von
Kunst, Westfälisches Landesmuseum für Kunst und Kulturgeschichte Münster,
Münster (G. Langemeyer and R. Schleier), 1976. Naples 2008 — Salvator Rosa: tra
mito e magia, Museo di Capodimonte, Naples (eds A. B. de Lavergnée and S.
Bellesi), 2008. New Haven and London 2011–12 — Johan Zoffany, RA: Society
Observed, Yale Center for British Art, New Haven; Royal Academy of Arts, London
(ed. M. Postle), 2011–12. New York 1954 — Fuseli Drawings, a Loan Exhibition,
organized by the Pro Helvetia Foundation and circulated by the Smithsonian
Institution, Pierpont Morgan Library, New York, 1954. New York 1988 — Creative
Copies. Interpretative Drawings from Michelangelo to Picasso, The Drawing
Center, New York (E. Haverkamp-Begemann and C. Logan), 1988. New York 2005a —
Peter Paul Rubens. The Drawings, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York (ed.
A.-M. Logan with M. Plomp), 2005 New York 2005b — Pictures & Oil Sketches
1775–1920, W. M. Brady & Co., New York, 2005. New York 2012–13 — Bernini:
Sculpting in Clay, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York (eds C. D. Dickerson et
al.), 2012–13. Nottingham and London 1983 — Drawing in the Italian Renaissance
Workshop, University Art Gallery, Nottingham; Victoria and Albert Museum,
London (F. Ames-Lewis and J. Wright), 1983. Nottingham and London 1991 — The
Artist’s Model: Its Role in British Art from Lely to Etty, University Art
Gallery, Nottingham; The Iveagh Bequest, Kenwood, London (I. Bignamini and M.
Postle), 1991. Ottawa and Caen 2011–12 — Drawn to Art. French Artists and Art
Lovers in 18th-century Rome, National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa; Musée des
beaux-arts de Caen (ed. S. Couturier), 2011–12. Ottawa, Vancouver and elsewhere
1996–97 — The Ingenious Machine of Nature: Four Centuries of Art and Anatomy,
National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa; Vancouver Art Gallery; The Philadelphia
Museum of Art; The Israel Museum, Jerusalem (M. Cazort, M. Kornell and K. B.
Roberts), 1996–97. Ottawa, Washington D.C. and elsewhere 2003–04 — The Age of
Watteau, Chardin, and Fragonard: Masterpieces of French Genre Painting,
National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa; National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.;
Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, Gemäldegalerie (ed. C. Bailey), 2003–04. Oxford
and New Haven 2012–13 — The English Prize. The Capture of the Westmoreland. An
Episode of the Grand Tour, The Ashmolean Museum, Oxford; Yale Center for
British Art, New Haven (eds M. D. Sánchez-Jáuregui and S. Wilcox), 2012–13.
Paris 1922 — Exposition Hubert Robert et Louis Moreau: au bénénfice du foyer
des Infirmières de la Croix-Rouge et des infirmières visiteuses, Galeries Jean
Charpentier, Paris, 1922. Paris 1933 — Exposition Hubert Robert A l’occasion du
Deuxième Centenaire de sa Naissance, Musée de l’Orangerie, Paris (L. Hautecoeur
et al.), 1933. Paris 1975 — Füssli, Musée du Petit Palais, Paris, 1975. Paris
1989 — Maîtres français, 1550–1800: dessins de la donation Mathias Polakovits à
l’Ecole des beaux-arts, École nationale supérieure des beaux-arts, Paris (eds
B. de Bayser et al.), 1989. Paris 1996 — Pisanello. Le peintre aux sept vertus,
Musée du Louvre, Paris (ed. D. Cordellier), 1996. Paris 2000–01 — D’après
l’antique, Musée du Louvre, Paris (eds J. P. Cuzin, J. R. Gaborit and A.
Pasquier), 2000–01. Paris 2003 — A. & D. Martinez, Estampes Anciennes &
Modernes. A Collectionner, cat. no. VIII, Paris, 2003. Paris 2008 — L’Âge d’or
du romantisme allemand, aquarelles et dessins è l’époque de Goethe, Musée de la
Vie Romantique, Paris, (ed. H. Sieveking), Paris, 2008. Paris 2008–09a —
Figures du corps: une leçon d’anatomie à l’École des beaux-arts, École
nationale supérieure des beaux-arts, Paris (ed. P. Comar), 2008–09. Paris
2008–09b — Mantegna 1431–1506, Musée du Louvre, Paris (eds G. Agosti and D.
Thiébaut), 2008–09. Paris 2009–10 — L’Académie mise à nu: l’école du modèle à
l’Académie royale de peinture et de sculpture, École nationale supérieure des
beaux-arts, Paris (ed. E. Brugerolles), 2009–10. Paris 2010–11 — Musées de
papier: l’antiquité en livres, 1600-1800, Musée du Louvre, Paris (eds É.
Décultot, G. Bickendorf and V. Kockel), 2010–11. Paris, Ottawa and elsewhere
1994–95 — Egyptomania: l’Egypte dans l’Art occidental, 1730–1930, Musée du
Louvre, Paris; National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa; Kunsthistorisches Museum,
Vienna (eds J. M. Humbert, M. Pantazzi and C. Ziegler), 1994–95. Philadelphia
1980–81 — A Scholar Collects: Selections from the Anthony Morris Clark Bequest,
Philadelphia Museum of Art (eds U. W. Hiesinger and A. Percy), 1980–81.
Philadelphia and Houston 2000 — Art in Rome in the Eighteenth Century,
Philadelphia Museum of Art; Museum of Fine Arts, Houston (eds E. P. Bowron and
J. J. Rishel), 2000. Princeton 1977 — Eighteenth-century French Life Drawing:
Selections from the Collection of Mathias Polakovits, Art Museum, Princeton
University (ed. J. H. Rubin), 1977. Princeton, Cleveland and elsewhere 1981–82
— Drawings by Gianlorenzo Bernini from the Museum der Bildenden Künste Leipzig,
German Democratic Republic, The Art Museum, Princeton; Cleveland Museum of Art;
Los Angeles County Museum of Art; Kimbell Art Museum, Fort Worth; Indianapolis
Museum of Art; Museum of Fine Arts, Boston (ed. I. Lavin), 1981–82.
Recklinghausen 1964 — Torso: das Unvollendete als künstlerische Form,
Städtische Kunsthalle, Recklinghausen, 1964. Rome 1958–59 — Michael Sweerts e i
bamboccianti, Palazzo Venezia, Rome (E. Lavagnino et al.), 1958–59. Rome 1968 —
Accademia Nazionale di San Luca. Mostra di Antichi Dipinti Restaurati delle
Raccolte Accademiche, Palazzo Carpegna, Rome (I. Faldi), 1968. Rome 1981–82 —
David e Roma, Villa Medici, Rome, 1981–82. Rome 1986–87 — Rilievi storici
Capitolini: il restauro dei pannelli di Adriano e di Marco Aurelio nel Palazzo
dei Conservatori, Musei Capitolini, Rome (ed. E. La Rocca), 1986–87. Rome 1988a
— Da Pisanello alla nascita dei Musei Capitolini. L’Antico a Roma all vigilia
del Rinascimento, Musei Capitolini, Rome (eds A. Cavallaro and E. Parlato),
1988. Rome 1988b — La Colonna Traiana e gli artisti francesi da Luigi XIV a
Napoleone I, Accademia di Francia a Roma (ed. P. Morel), 1988. Rome 1990–91 —
J. H. Fragonard e H. Robert a Roma, Villa Medici, Rome (eds C. Boulot et al.),
1990–91. Rome 1992–93 — La Collezione Boncompagni Ludovisi: Algardi, Bernini e
la fortuna dell’antico, Palazzo Ruspoli, Rome (ed. A. Giuliano), 1992–93. Rome
1994 — Bartolomeo Cavaceppi scultore romano (1717–1799), Museo del Palazzo di
Venezia, Rome, (M. G. Barberini and C. Gasparri), 1994. Rome 1997–98 — Pietro
da Cortona e il disegno, Istituto nazionale per la grafica, Accademia nazionale
di San Luca, Rome (ed. S. Prosperi Valenti Rodino), 1997–98. Rome 2000a —
Intorno a Poussin. Ideale classico e epopea barocca tra Parigi e Roma,
Accademia di Francia, Rome (eds O. Bonfait and J.-C. Boyer), 2000. Rome 2000b —
L’idea del bello: viaggio per Roma nel Seicento con Giovan Pietro Bellori,
Palazzo delle Esposizioni, Rome (eds E. Borea and C. Gasparri), 2 vols, 2000.
Rome 2000c — Raffaello da Firenze a Roma, Galleria Borghese, Rome (ed. A.
Coliva), 2000. Rome 2001–02 — I Giustiniani e l’antico, Palazzo Fontana di
Trevi, Rome (G. Fusconi), 2001–02. Rome 2004 — La Collezione del Principe. Da
Leonardo a Goya. Disegni e stampe della raccolta Corsini, Istituto Nazionale
per la Grafica, Rome (eds E. Antetomaso and G. Mariani), 2004. Rome 2005 — La
Roma di Leon Battista Alberti. Umanisti, architetti e artisti alla scoperta
dell’antico nella città del Quattrocento, Musei Capitolini, Rome (ed. F. P.
Fiore), 2005. Rome 2005–06 — Il Settecento a Roma, Palazzo Venezia, Rome (eds
A. Lo Bianco and A. Negro), 2005–06. Rome 2006–07 — Laocoonte: Alle origini dei
Musei Vaticani, Musei Vaticani, Vatican, Rome (eds F. Buranelli et al.),
2006–07. Rome 2007 — Dürer e l’Italia, Scuderie del Quirinale, Rome (ed. K.
Hermann Fiore), 2007. Rome 2008 — Ricordi dell’antico: sculture, porcellane e
arredi del Grand Tour, Musei Capitolini, Rome (eds A. D’Agliano and L.
Melegati), 2008. Rome 2010–11a — Palazzo Farnèse. Dalle collezioni
rinascimentali ad Ambasciata di Francia, Palazzo Farnese, Rome (ed. F.
Buranelli), 2010–11. Rome 2010–11b — Roma e l’Antico. Realtà e visione nel
‘700, Fondazione Roma Museo, Rome (eds C. Brook and V. Curzi), 2010–11. Rome
2011 — Ritratti: le tante faccie del potere, Musei Capitolini, Rome (eds E. La
Rocca, C. Parisi Presicce and A. Lo Monaco), 2011. Rome 2011–12 — I Borghese e
l’Antico, Galleria Borghese, Rome (eds A. Coliva et al.), 2011–12. Rome 2014a —
1564/2014 Michelangelo. Incontrare un artista universale, Musei Capitolini,
Rome (ed. C. Acidini), 2014. Rome 2014b — Hogarth, Reynolds, Turner: British
Painting and the Rise of Modernity, Fondazione Roma Museo, Rome (eds C. Brook
and V. Curzi), 2014. Rome forthcoming — Spinario. Storia e fortuna, Musei
Capitolini, Rome (ed. C. Parisi Presicce), forthcoming. Rome, Dijon and
elsewhere 1976 — Piranese et les francais, 1740–1790, Villa Medici, Rome;
Palais des Etats de Bourgogne, Dijon; Hotel de Sully, Paris, 1976. Rome and
Paris 2014–15 — I bassifondi del Barocco. La Roma del vizio e della miseria,
Accademia di Francia a Roma – Villa Medici, Rome; Petit Palais – Musée des
Beaux-Arts de la Ville de Paris, Paris (eds F. Cappelletti and A. Lemoine),
2014–15. Rome, University Park (PA) and elsewhere 1989–90 — Prize winning
drawings from the Roman Academy, 1682–1754, Accademia Nazionale di San Luca,
Rome; Palmer Museum of Art, Pennsylvania State University; and National Academy
of Design, New York (eds A. Cipriani and G. Casale), 1989–90. Rotterdam 1946 —
Cornelis Troost en zijn tijd, Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen, Rotterdam, 1946.
Rotterdam 1958 — Michael Sweerts en Tijdgenoten, Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen,
Rotterdam (E. Lavagino), 1958. Rotterdam 1994 — Cornelis Cort ‘constich
plaedt-snijder van Horne in Holland’ – Cornelis Cort accomplished plate-cutter
from Hoorn in Holland, Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen, Rotterdam (M. Sellink),
1994. Stockholm 1990 — Füssli, Uddevalla, Stockholm (ed. G. Cavalli- Björkman),
1990. Stuttgart 1997–98 — Johann Heinrich Füssli. Das Verlorene Paradies,
Staatsgalerie Stuttgart (ed. C. Becker and C. Hattendorrf), 1997–98. Swansea
1962 — Exhibition of French Master Drawings, Glynn Vivian Art Gallery, Swansea,
1962. Toledo, Chicago and elsewhere 1975–76 — The Age of Louis XV: French
Painting, 1710–1774, The Toledo Museum of Art, Ohio; Art Institute of Chicago;
National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa (ed. P. Rosenberg), 1975–76. Tokyo 1968–69 —
The Age of Rembrandt: Dutch Paintings and Drawings of the 17th century, The
National Museum of Western Art, Toyko, and Kyoto Municipal Museum (D. A. van
Karnebeek), 1968–69. Tokyo 1983 — Henry Fuseli, National Museum of Western Art
and City Art Museum Kitakyushu, Tokyo (ed. G. Schiff), 1983. Toronto, Ottawa
and elsewhere 1972–73 — Dessins français du 17e et 18e siècles des collections
americaines. French Master Drawings of the 17th and 18th Centuries of the North
American Collections, Art Gallery of Ontario, Toronto; National Gallery of
Canada, Ottawa; California Palace of the Legion of Honor, San Francisco; New
York Cultural Center (eds C. Johnston and P. Rosenberg), 1972–73. Tours and
Toulouse 2000 — Les peintres du roi 1648–1793, Musée des Beaux-Arts de Tours;
Musée des Augustins à Toulouse (eds P. Rosenberg et al.), Paris, 2000. Troyes,
Nîmes and elsewhere 1977 — Charles-Joseph Natoire (Nîmes, 1700 – Castel
Gandolfo, 1777): peintures, dessins, estampes et tapisseries des collections
publiques françaises, Musée des Beaux-Arts, Troyes; Musée des Beaux- Arts,
Nîmes; Villa Medici, Rome, 1977. Venice 1976 — Tiziano e la silografia
veneziana del Cinquecento, Fondazione Giorgio Cini, Venice (eds M. Muraro and
D. Rosand), Venice, 1976. 252 253 Vienna 1987 — Zauber der Medusa.
Europäische Manierismen, Wiener Künstlerhaus, Vienna (ed. W. Hofmann), 1987.
Washington D.C. 1977 — Seventeenth Century Dutch Drawings from American
Collections: A Loan Exhibition, organized and circulated by the International
Exhibitions Foundation, National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C. (F. W. Robinson),
1977. Washington D.C. 1978–79 — Hubert Robert: Drawings & Watercolors,
National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C. (V. Carlson), 1978–79. Washington
D.C. 1999–2000 — The Drawings of Annibale Carracci, National Gallery of Art,
Washington, D.C. (eds D. Benati et al.), 1999–2000. Washington D.C., Los
Angeles and elsewhere 2003–04 — Jean-Antoine Houdon: Sculptor of the
Enlightenment, National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.; The J. Paul Getty
Museum, Los Angeles; Musée et Domaine National du Château de Versailles (A. L.
Poulet et al.), 2003–04. Williamstown, Madison and elsewhere 2001–02 — Goltzius
and the Third Dimension, Sterling and Francine Clark Institute, Williamstown
(MA); Elvehjem Museum of Art, Madison (WI); Spencer Museum of Art, Lawrence
(KS) (eds S. H. Goddard and J. A. Ganz), 2001–02. Windsor 2013 — Paper palaces:
The Topham Collection as a Source for British Neo-Classicism, The Verey
Gallery, Eton College, Windsor (A. Aymonino et al.), 2013. York 1973 — A
Candidate for Praise. William Manson 1725–97, Precentor of York, York Art
Gallery and York Minster Library (eds B. Barr and J. Ingamells), 1973. Zurich
1941 — Johann Heinrich Füssli (1741–1825): Zur Zweihundertjahrfeier und
Gedächtnisausstellung 1951, Kunsthaus Zürich, Zurich (ed. W. Wartmann and M.
Fischer), 1941. Zurich 1969 — Johann Heinrich Füssli, 1741–1825, Kunsthaus
Zürich, Zurich, 1969. Zurich 1984 — Meisterwerke aus der
Graphischen eichnungen, Aquarelli, Pastelle, Collagen aus fünf
Jahrhunderten, Kunsthaus Zürich, Zurich, 1984. Zurich 2005 — Füssli. The Wild
Swiss, Kunsthaus Zürich, Zurich (ed. F. Lentzsch), 2005. Fig. 61. Royal
Collection Trust/© Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2015 Fig. 62. Royal
Collection Trust/© Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2015 Fig. 63. © bpk, Berlin /
Museum der bildenden Künste, Leipzig Fig. 64. © bpk, Berlin / Museum der
bildenden Künste, Leipzig Fig. 65. The Warburg Institute, Photographic
Collection Fig. 66. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic
Collection) Fig. 67. The Samuel Courtauld Trust, The Courtauld Gallery, London
Fig. 68. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic
Collection) Fig. 69. © bpk, Berlin / École nationale supérieure des Beaux-Arts
de Paris, Dist. RMN – Grand Palais Fig. 70. © bpk, Berlin / École nationale
supérieure des Beaux-Arts de Paris, Dist. RMN – Grand Palais Fig. 71. © bpk,
Berlin / École nationale supérieure des Beaux-Arts de Paris, Dist. RMN – Grand
Palais Fig. 72. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic
Collection) Fig. 73. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute,
Photographic Collection) Fig. 74. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam Fig. 75. © Ashmolean
Museum, University of Oxford Fig. 76. Su gentile concessione del Museo
Biblioteca Archivio di Bassano del Grappa Fig. 77. Photo Les Arts décoratifs
Fig. 78. Photo Les Arts décoratifs Fig. 79. National Library of Medicine (NLM)
Fig. 80. National Library of Medicine (NLM) Fig. 81. The Metropolitan Museum of
Art, Gift of Lincoln Kirstein, 1952, www.metmuseum.org Fig. 82. © Royal Academy
of Arts, London Fig. 83. © bpk, Berlin / École nationale supérieure des
Beaux-Arts de Paris, Dist. RMN – Grand Palais Fig. 84. © Royal Academy of Arts,
London Fig. 85. © Royal Academy of Arts, London Fig. 86. Private collection
Fig. 87. © bpk, Berlin / École nationale supérieure des Beaux-Arts de Paris,
Dist. RMN – Grand Palais Fig. 88. Philadelphia Museum of Art Fig. 89.
Cherbourg-Octeville, musée d’art Thomas-Henry © D.Sohier Fig. 90. Heidelberg
University Library Fig. 91. © The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights
reserved Fig. 92. Staatsgalerie Stuttgart © Foto: Staatsgalerie Stuttgart Fig.
93. Reproduced by permission of the Provost and Fellows of Eton College Fig.
94. © bpk, Berlin / Musée du Louvre, Dist. RMN – Grand Palais / Susanne Nagy Fig.
95. © Musée de Valence, photo Philippe Petiot Fig. 96. © Musée de Valence,
photo Philippe Petiot Fig. 97. © Musée de Valence, photo Philippe Petiot Fig.
98. Courtesy National Gallery of Art, Washington Fig. 99. © Tate, London 2014
Fig. 100. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic
Collection) Fig. 101. © Royal Academy of Arts, London; Photographer: John
Hammond Fig. 102. RSA, London Fig. 103. RSA, London Fig. 104. © CSG CIC Glasgow
Museums and Libraries Collection: The Mitchell Library, Special Collections
Fig. 105. © Royal Academy of Arts, London; Photographer: Prudence Cuming
Associates Limited Fig. 106. Royal Collection Trust/© Her Majesty Queen
Elizabeth II 2015 Fig. 107. © Royal Academy of Arts, London Fig. 108. Photo out
of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 109.
Photograph courtesy of the National Gallery of Ireland Cat. 1 Exhibit. ©
Matthew Hollow Fig. 1. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute,
Photographic Collection) Fig. 2. © Matthew Hollow Fig. 3. Photo out of
copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Cat. 2 Exhibit. ©
Matthew Hollow Fig. 1. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam Cat. 3 Exhibit. © Matthew Hollow
Fig. 1. Courtesy Yvonne Tan Bunzl Fig. 2. © The Trustees of the British Museum.
All rights reserved Fig. 3. © The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights
reserved Fig. 4. © bpk, Berlin / Kupferstichkabinett, SMB / Volker-H. Schneider
Fig. 5. © The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved Fig. 6.
S.S.P.S.A.E e per il Polo Museale della città di Firenze – Gabinetto
Fotografico Cat. 4 Exhibit a. © The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights
reserved Exhibit b. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam Fig. 1. Private collection Fig. 2. ©
Kurpfälzisches Museum der Stadt Heidelberg Cat. 5 Exhibit. Digital image
courtesy of the Getty’s Open Content Program Fig. 1. Photo out of copyright
(The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 2. Vatican Museums and
Galleries, Vatican City/ Bridgeman Images Fig. 3. © The Trustees of the British
Museum. All rights reserved Fig. 4. Digital image courtesy of the Getty’s Open
Content Program Fig. 5. Digital image courtesy of the Getty’s Open Content
Program Cat. 6 Exhibit a. Teylers Museum, Haarlem Exhibit b. © The Trustees of
the British Museum. All rights reserved Fig. 1. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam Cat. 7
Exhibit a. Teylers Museum, Haarlem Exhibit b. Teylers Museum, Haarlem Fig. 1.
Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 2.
Teylers Museum, Haarlem Fig. 3. Teylers Museum, Haarlem Fig. 4. Courtesy
Amsterdam Museum Cat. 8 Exhibit. Teylers Museum, Haarlem Fig. 1. Teylers
Museum, Haarlem Fig. 2. S.S.P.S.A.E e per il Polo Museale della città di
Firenze – Gabinetto Fotografico Cat. 9 Exhibit. © The Trustees of the British
Museum. All rights reserved Fig. 1. Archivio Fotografico dei Musei Capitolini.
Photo Zeno Colantoni Fig. 2. © Musée des Beaux-Arts de Dijon. Photo François
Jay Cat. 10 Exhibit. © Matthew Hollow Fig. 1. Archivio Fotografico dei Musei
Capitolini. Photo Zeno Colantoni Fig. 2. Courtesy of the Master and Fellows of
Trinity College Cambridge Fig. 3. © Matthew Hollow Fig. 4. © The Fitzwilliam
Museum, Cambridge Cat. 11 Exhibit. © Matthew Hollow Fig. 1. Rijksmuseum,
Amsterdam Fig. 2. © The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge Fig. 3. © Matthew Hollow
Cat. 12 Exhibit. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam Fig. 1. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam Fig. 2.
Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 3.
Archivio Fotografico dei Musei Capitolini. Photo Zeno Colantoni Fig. 4. The Warburg
Institute, Photographic Collection Fig. 5. Detroit Institute of Arts, USA, City
of Detroit Purchase/Bridgeman Images Fig. 6. Collection Rau for UNICEF / Gruppe
Köln, Hans G. Scheib Cat. 13 Exhibit. © Matthew Hollow Fig. 1. Photo out of
copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 2. Courtesy
Amsterdam Museum Fig. 3. Courtesy Municipal Archives of The Hague Fig. 4. Photo
out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 5. Photo
out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 6. Photo
out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Cat. 14
Exhibit. © Matthew Hollow Fig. 1. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg
Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 2. © 2015 The Metropolitan Museum of
Art/ Art Resource/Scala, Florence Fig. 3. © Christie’s Images Limited (1988)
Fig. 4. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam Photographic Credits Every effort has been made
to trace copyright holders and to obtain their permission for the use of
copyright material. The publisher apologises for any errors or omissions in the
below list and would be grateful if notified of any corrections that should be
incorporated in future reprints or editions of this book. Ideal Beauty and the
Canon in Classical Antiquity Fig. 1. © 2015 The Metropolitan Museum of Art/Art
Resource/Scala, Florence Fig. 2. The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection
Fig. 3. The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection ‘Nature Perfected’: The
Theory & Practice of Drawing after the Antique Fig. 1. Photo out of
copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 2. Photo out of
copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 3. © bpk,
Berlin / Musée du Louvre, Dist. RMN – Grand Palais / Gérard Blot Fig. 4. ©
Veneranda Biblioteca Ambrosiana – Milano / De Agostini Picture Library Fig. 5.
Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 6.
Albertina, Vienna Fig. 7. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute,
Photographic Collection) Fig. 8. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute,
Photographic Collection) Fig. 9. Copyright Comune di Milano – tutti i diritti
riservati Fig. 10. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic
Collection) Fig. 11. © Veneranda Biblioteca Ambrosiana – Milano / De Agostini
Picture Library Fig. 12. © The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights
reserved Fig. 13. Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen, Rotterdam. Loan Museum
Boijmans Van Beuningen Foundation (collection Koenigs) / photographer: Studio Tromp,
Rotterdam Fig. 14. © The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved
Fig. 15. Archivio Fotografico dei Musei Capitolini. Photo Zeno Colantoni Fig.
16. Rijksmuseum, Amseterdam 254 Fig. 17. The Metropolitan Museum of Art,
Bequest of Phyllis Massar, 2011, www.metmuseum.org Fig. 18. Photo out of
copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 19. Vatican
Museums and Galleries, Vatican City/Bridgeman Images Fig. 20. Photo out of
copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 21. © Royal
Museums of Fine Arts of Belgium, Brussels / photo: J. Geleyns / Ro scan Fig.
22. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection)
Fig. 23. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic
Collection) Fig. 24. © The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved
Fig. 25. Graphische Sammlung Albertina, Vienna, Austria / Bridgeman Images Fig.
26. Vatican Museums and Galleries, Vatican City / Bridgeman Images Fig. 27.
Courtesy National Gallery of Art, Washington Fig. 28. Albertina, Vienna Fig.
29. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection)
Fig. 30. © The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved Fig. 31. ©
The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved Fig. 32. Photo out of
copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 33. Galleria
degli Uffizi, Florence, Italy / Bridgeman Images Fig. 34. S.S.P.S.A.E e per il
Polo Museale della città di Firenze – Gabinetto Fotografico Fig. 35. Photo out
of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 36. ©
Veneranda Biblioteca Ambrosiana – Milano / De Agostini Picture Library Fig. 37.
Katrin Bellinger collection Fig. 38. © bpk, Berlin / Kupferstichkabinett / Jörg
P. Anders Fig. 39. © bpk, Berlin / Kupferstichkabinett / Jörg P. Anders Fig.
40. © bpk, Berlin / Kupferstichkabinett / Volker-H. Schneider Fig. 41. © bpk,
Berlin / Kupferstichkabinett / Volker-H. Schneider Fig. 42. © bpk, Berlin /
Kupferstichkabinett / Volker-H. Schneider Fig. 43. © bpk, Berlin /
Kupferstichkabinett / Volker-H. Schneider Fig. 44. Photo out of copyright (The
Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 45. © 2015 The Metropolitan
Museum of Art/ Art Resource/Scala, Florence Fig. 46. © Veneranda Biblioteca
Ambrosiana – Milano / De Agostini Picture Library Fig. 47. © Veneranda
Biblioteca Ambrosiana – Milano / De Agostini Picture Library Fig. 48. Royal
Museum for Fine Arts Antwerp © Lukas-Art in Flanders vzw, photo Hugo Maertens
Fig. 49. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam Fig. 50. Musea Brugge © Lukas-Art in Flanders
vzw, photo Hugo Maertens Fig. 51. ©Peter Cox/Bonnefantenmuseum Maastricht Fig.
52. Minneapolis Institute of Arts, MN, USA, The Walter H. and Valborg P. Ude
Memorial Fund/ Bridgeman Images Fig. 53. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam Fig. 54.
Louvre, Paris, France/Bridgeman Images Fig. 55. Archivio Fotografico dei Musei
Capitolini. Photo Zeno Colantoni Fig. 56. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg
Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 57. Photo out of copyright (The
Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 58. © bpk, Berlin / Musée du
Louvre, Dist. RMN – Grand Palais / Richard Lambert Fig. 59. © bpk, Berlin /
Musée Condé, Chantilly, Dist. RMN – Grand Palais / René-Gabriel Ojéda Fig. 60.
Royal Collection Trust/© Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2015 255 Cat. 15
Exhibit. © The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved Fig. 1. ©
Devonshire Collection, Chatsworth / Reproduced by permission of Chatsworth
Settlement Trustees / Bridgeman Images Fig. 2. Wadsworth Atheneum Museum of
Art, Hartford, CT Fig. 3. © The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights
reserved Fig. 4. Vatican Museums and Galleries, Vatican City / Bridgeman Images
Cat. 16 Exhibit. The Samuel Courtauld Trust, The Courtauld Gallery, London Fig.
1. Image courtesy of Sotheby’s Fig. 2. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg
Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 3. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg
Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 4. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg
Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 5. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg
Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 6. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg
Institute, Photographic Collection) Cat. 17 Exhibit. © Matthew Hollow Fig. 1.
Archivio Fotografico dei Musei Capitolini. Photo Zeno Colantoni Fig. 2. Museum
Boijmans Van Beuningen, Rotterdam / photographer: Studio Tromp, Rotterdam Fig.
3. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Bequest of Walter C. Baker, 1971,
www.metmuseum.org Fig. 4. Witt Library, The Courtauld Institute of Art, London
Cat. 18 Exhibit. © Matthew Hollow Fig. 1. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg
Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 2. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg
Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 3. © bpk, Berlin / Antikensammlung,
SMB Fig. 4. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic
Collection) Fig. 5. © bpk, Berlin / Antikensammlung, SMB / Johannes Laurentius
Fig. 6. © photo Musées de Marseille Fig. 7. Photographic Survey, The Courtauld
Institute of Art, London. Private collection Cat. 19 Exhibit. © Matthew Hollow
Fig. 1. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection)
Fig. 2. © Accademia Nazionale di San Luca. Tutti i diritti riservati Fig. 3. ©
The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved Fig. 4. By courtesy of
the Trustees of Sir John Soane’s Museum Cat. 20 Exhibit. By courtesy of the
Trustees of Sir John Soane’s Museum Fig. 1. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg
Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 2. Archivio Fotografico dei Musei
Capitolini. Photo Zeno Colantoni Fig. 3. Archivio Fotografico dei Musei
Capitolini. Photo Zeno Colantoni Fig. 4. The Warburg Institute, Photographic
Collection Fig. 5. Staatsgalerie Stuttgart © Foto: Staatsgalerie Stuttgart Fig.
6. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Cat.
21 Exhibit. © bpk / Kunstbibliothek, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin Fig. 1. Image
courtesy of Sotheby’s Fig. 2. Image courtesy of Sotheby’s Cat. 22 Exhibit. ©
2014 Kunsthaus Zürich. All rights reserved. Fig. 1. Archivio Fotografico dei
Musei Capitolini. Photo Paulo Cipollina Fig. 2. Archivio Fotografico dei Musei
Capitolini. Photo Lorenzo De Masi Fig. 3. Archivio Fotografico dei Musei
Capitolini. Photo Lorenzo De Masi Fig. 4. Istituto Centrale per la Grafica
Canoni fotografici (MIBACT) Fig. 5. © bpk, Berlin / Kunstbibliothek, SMB /
Dietmar Katz Cat. 23 Exhibit. © Matthew Hollow Fig. 1. Louvre, Paris,
France/Bridgeman Images Fig. 2. © The Trustees of the British Museum. All
rights reserved Cat. 24 Exhibit. © The Trustees of the British Museum. All
rights reserved Fig. 1. Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection
Fig. 2. Private collection Fig. 3. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg
Institute, Photographic Collection) Cat. 25 Exhibit. © Royal Academy of Arts,
London Fig. 1. © Royal Academy of Arts, London Fig. 2. © Royal Academy of Arts,
London Fig. 3. © bpk, Berlin / RMN – Grand Palais / Stéphane Maréchalle Fig. 4.
Santa Barbara Museum of Art, Gift of Wright S. Ludington Fig. 5. Conway
Library, The Courtauld Institute of Art, London Fig. 6. Archivio Fotografico
dei Musei Capitolini. Photo Zeno Colantoni Fig. 7. Photo out of copyright (The
Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 8. © Royal Academy of Arts,
London; Photographer: Paul Highnam Fig. 9. © Royal Academy of Arts, London;
Photographer: Paul Highnam Cat. 26 Exhibit. © The Trustees of the British
Museum. All rights reserved Fig. 1. © Tate, London 2014 Fig. 2. Courtesy of
www.gjsaville-caricatures.co.uk Cat. 27 Exhibit a. © Victoria and Albert Museum,
London Exhibit b. © Victoria and Albert Museum, London Fig. 1. © Tate, London
2014 Fig. 2. © Tate, London 2014 Fig. 3. © Tate, London 2014 Fig. 4. © Tate,
London 2014 Cat. 28 Exhibit. © The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights
reserved Fig. 1. © Towneley Hall Art Gallery and Museum, Burnley,
Lancashire/Bridgeman Images Fig. 2. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg
Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 3. © The Trustees of the British
Museum. All rights reserved Cat. 29 Exhibit. By courtesy of the Trustees of Sir
John Soane’s Museum Cat. 30 Exhibit. © Matthew Hollow Fig. 1. Photo Collection
RKD, The Hague Fig. 2. Royal Collection Trust/© Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II
2015 Fig. 3. Klassik Stiftung Weimar, Bestand Museen. Photo Sigrid Geske Cat.
31 Exhibit. Teylers Museum, Haarlem Cat. 32 Exhibit. Teylers Museum, Haarlem
Fig. 1. Photo Collection RKD, The Hague Cat. 33 Exhibit. © Matthew Hollow Fig.
1. The National Museum of Art, Architecture and Design, Oslo, photographer
Jacques Lathion Fig. 2. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute,
Photographic Collection) Fig. 3. Archivio Fotografico dei Musei Capitolini.
Photo Zeno Colantoni Fig. 4. Louvre, Paris, France / Bridgeman Images Fig. 5.
Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 6.
Courtesy of Pontus Kjerrman Cat. 34 Exhibit. © Matthew Hollow Fig. 1. Photo out
of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 2. Courtesy
of Olga Liubimova Fig. 3. © Tomas Abad Cat. 35 Exhibit. © Matthew Hollow Fig. 1.
© Victoria and Albert Museum, London Fig. 2. © National Portrait Gallery,
London Fig. 3. © Christie’s Images Limited (2012) Fig. 4. Photo out of
copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig. 5. © National
Museums Liverpool, Walker Art Gallery Fig. 6. [© National Museums Liverpool,
Walker Art Gallery Sammlung. ZMassimo Carboni. Keywords: tratto dalla
vita, estetica, arte, icona, parola, immagine, filosofia antica, il concetto
dell’antico, l’antico – l’antico e il moderno – drawing from the antique –
antico – filosofia antica, arte antica, statuaria antica, the lure of the
antique – il gusto e l’antico --. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Grice e Carboni” –
The Swimming-Pool Library.
levi:
filosofo italiano - Italian philosopher of Jewish descent. Author of “Storia
della filosofia romana.”
giornale
critico della filosofia italiana.
Giovanni
d. “Positivismo italiano.”
Grice
e Cassio – Roma – filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza. Filosofo
italiano. Gaio Cassio Longino. Gaio Cassio Longino Tribuno della plebe della
Repubblica romana Gaio Cassio Longino (a destra), Marco Giunio Bruto (col volto
girato) e gli altri congiurati pugnalano Giulio Cesare alle Idi di Marzo;
particolare del dipinto di Vincenzo Camuccini, Morte di Giulio Cesare. Nome
originale. Gaius Cassius Longinus Nascita: Roma Morte: Filippi Coniuge: Tertulla
Figli: Gaio Cassio Longino Gens: Cassia Tribuno militare sotto Marco Licinio
Crasso Questura. Tribunato della plebe. Gaio Cassio Longino (in latino: Gaius
Cassius Longinus, pronuncia classica o restituta: [ˈɡaːɪ.ʊs ˈkassɪ.ʊs
ˈlɔŋɡɪnʊs]; Roma, 87/86 a.C. – Filippi, 3 ottobre 42 a.C.) è stato un politico
romano, tra i promotori della congiura che causò l'uccisione di Gaio Giulio
Cesare. Appartenne alla gens Cassia, una famiglia patrizia riuscita ad accedere
al consolato. Nel sesto decennio a.C. Cassio, dopo il matrimonio con Tertulla,
figlia di Servilia, sembra avvicinarsi al partito degl’optimates guidato da
Catone Uticense. Moneta coniata da Longino Prese parte alla guerra
contro i Parti, al fianco di Marco Licinio Crasso, salvandosi dal disastro di
Carre del 53 a.C., e riuscendo a respingere una loro successiva invasione che
si era spinta fin sotto le mura di Antiochia.[1] Nominato tribuno della plebe
nel 49 a.C., allo scoppio della guerra civile si schierò dalla parte di Pompeo,
che gli affidò il controllo di parte della sua flotta nelle acque del
Mediterraneo. Dopo la battaglia di Farsalo e la morte di Pompeo in Egitto, egli
decise di beneficiare della clemenza di Cesare: lo raggiunse dunque in Cilicia,
vicino Tarso, da dove il dittatore stava pianificando l'attacco a Farnace.
Nonostante il suo rapporto con Cesare si fosse consolidato, Cassio decise, nel
44 a.C., di allontanarsi dalla corrente politica di Cesare per essere uno degli
organizzatori del complotto che portò costui alla morte. Dopo
l'assassinio del dittatore, Cassio insieme a Bruto, figlio di Servilia, fuggì
da Roma, timoroso delle rappresaglie messe in atto da Marco Antonio
(luogotenente di Cesare) e dal giovane ed emergente Ottaviano (futuro primo
imperatore di Roma con il nome di Augusto). Come si apprende da un'epistola
scritta a Cicerone poco prima della battaglia di Modena, Cassio ottenne
brillanti successi in Oriente. Recatosi ad Apamea, dove era assediata dai
cesariani una legione pompeiana al comando di Quinto Cecilio Basso, riuscì a
convincere i capi cesariani sul posto, Lucio Staio Murco e Quinto Marcio
Crispo, a defezionare con le loro sei legioni e passare dalla sua parte. Poco
dopo giunse dall'Egitto Aulo Allieno con altre quattro legioni, che a sua volta
si unì a Cassio[2][3]. Secondo alcune fonti Marcio Crispo tuttavia rifiutò di
servirlo[4]. Cassio disponeva ora di numerose legioni e si mosse per affrontare
il cesariano Publio Cornelio Dolabella, che in precedenza aveva vinto e ucciso
il cesaricida Gaio Trebonio. Tuttavia i due cospiratori non riuscirono a
farla franca. Nel frattempo era stata emanata la lex Pedia, che condannava
all'esilio i cesaricidi. Cassio e Bruto vennero affrontati nella
battaglia di Filippi il 3 ottobre del 42 a.C. da Marco Antonio e Ottaviano.
Cassio fu sconfitto da Marco Antonio; pensando che anche Bruto fosse stato
sconfitto diede ordine ad un suo schiavo, Pindarus, di ucciderlo, usando la
stessa daga con cui aveva pugnalato Cesare; Bruto, nonostante la parziale
vittoria ottenuta su Ottaviano, fu successivamente raggiunto ed accerchiato
dagli uomini di Marco Antonio. Il 23 ottobre del 42 a.C. Bruto, vedendosi
sconfitto, si suicidò. Plutarco riferisce che Cassio era seguace di
Epicuro. Cassio viene definito da più fonti come Ultimus Romanorum,
l'ultimo dei romani a incarnare i valori e lo spirito romano: il riferimento è
in Tacito, che cita a sua volta lo storico Cremuzio Cordo: «Sotto il consolato
di Cornelio Cosso e Asinio Agrippa fu sottoposto a giudizio Cremuzio Cordo per
un reato di nuovo genere, noto allora per la prima volta: negli annali da lui
scritti, dopo aver elogiato M. Bruto, aveva chiamato Cassio l'ultimo dei
romani"[5]. Letteratura Dante lo pone nell'ultimo girone
dell'Inferno (Inferno, XXXIV, 64-67), la Giudecca, ove si puniscono i traditori
dei benefattori. Assieme a Giuda Iscariota ed a Marco Giunio Bruto, è
costantemente maciullato dalle fauci di Lucifero. Cassio è uno dei
protagonisti della tragedia Giulio Cesare di William Shakespeare. Note ^
Cassio Dione Cocceiano, Storia romana, XL, 28-29. ^ R. Syme, La rivoluzione
romana, p. 191. ^ Cassio, epistola a Cicerone ex castris Taricheis, in Charles
Chaulmer, Les Epitres familières de Ciceron en latin et en françois., edd.
Antoine e Horace Molin, 1689 ^ Broughton, T. Robert S., The Magistrates of the
Roman Republic, vol.III, 1986 ^ Annales, IV, 34, 1 Bibliografia Vittorio
Sermonti, Inferno, Rizzoli 2001. Umberto Bosco e Giovanni Reggio, La Divina
Commedia - Inferno, Le Monnier 1988. Voci correlate Gaio Giulio Cesare Marco
Giunio Bruto Battaglia di Filippi Marco Antonio Augusto Ultimus Romanorum Altri
progetti Dizionario di storia, Istituto dell'Enciclopedia Italiana, 2010.
Modifica su Wikidata Càssio Longino, Gàio (uomo politico e questore), su
sapere.it, De Agostini. Modifica su Wikidata (EN) Gaius Cassius / Gaius Cassius
Longinus, su Enciclopedia Britannica, Encyclopædia Britannica, Inc. Gaio Cassio
Longino / Gaio Cassio Longino (altra versione), su Goodreads. Modifica su
Wikidata V · D · M Guerra civile romana (49-45 a.C.) V · D · M Guerra civile
romana (44-31 a.C.) V · D · M Cesaricidi Portale Antica Roma
Portale Biografie Portale Età augustea Categorie: Politici
romani del I secolo a.C.Morti nel 42 a.C.Morti il 3 ottobreNati a
RomaCassiiGovernatori romani della SiriaMorti per suicidioPersonaggi citati
nella Divina Commedia (Inferno)EpicureiCesaricidi[altre] Cassio, one of those
who assassinated Giulio Cesare, was a follower of the philosophy of The Garden.
He converted to the sect after an earlier interest in the Porch, and defended
his new philosophy in correspondence with his friend Cicerone.
Grice e Cassiodoro: --
vide under Briuzi --. noble Italian philosopher. Refs.: Luigi Speranza,
"Grice e Cassiodoro," per Il Club Anglo-Italiano, The Swimming-Pool
Library, Villa Grice, Liguria, Italia
Grice
e casalegno, paolo. Italian philosopher author of “H. P. Grice” in “Filosofia
del linguaggio.”
Grice
e cattaneo:
essential Italian philosopher. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, "Grice e Cattaneo,"
per Il Club Anglo-Italiano, The Swimming-Pool Library, Villa Grice, Liguria,
Italia.
Grice e Carace – Roma –
filosofia italiana – Claudio Carace – Charax – Much admired by Antonino.
Grice e Carchia: l’implicatura conversazionale
dell’ars amandi – signi d’amore – erotico del bello – comunicazione degl’amanti
primitive -- filosofia romana – filosofia italiana -- Luigi Speranza (Torino). Filosofo
Italiano. Grice: “I once joked that if I’m introduce dto Mr. Poodle as ‘our man
in eighteenth century aesthetics, the implictum is that he ain’t good at it!
Not with Carchia: because (a) Carchia is a serious philosopher (b) he conceives
aesthetics alla Baumagarten, having to do with communication (“nome e immagine”, “interpretazione ed
emancipazione”) and with not just the aesthetis qua sensus – but its truth
value (“immagine e verita,” “l’intelligible estetico”) – a genius! On topc, my
favourite piece of his philosophising is on the torso del belvedere as
representing the ‘rhetoric of the sublime’!” Si laurea a Torino sotto Vattimo
con la dissertazione “Il Linguaggio”. Insegna a Viterbo e Roma. Studioso di
filosofia antica, traduttore. Opere: Orfismo e tragedia; Estetica ed erotica; Dall'apparenza
al mistero; La legittimazione dell'arte; Arte e bellezza; L'estetica antica, ecc. Si è anche occupato, di arte e comunicazione dei
popoli 'primitivi' e di artisti contemporanei quali Savinio, Sbarluzzi e Lanzardo.
La casa editrice Quodlibet raccoglie le sue opere postume. Rusce ad immaginare
la filosofla, a porla in immagini -- nel solco della filosofia italiana
dall'Umanesimo a Vico. Minima immoralia. Aforismi tralasciati nell'edizione
italiana (Einaudi, 1954), Milano: L'erba voglio); Comunità e comunicazione (Torino:
Rosemberg & Sellier); prefazione e cura di Henry Corbin, L'imâm nascosto,
Milano: Celuc, 1979; Milano: SE); Orfismo e tragedia. Il mito trasfigurato,
Milano: Celuc); Estetica e antropologia. Arte e comunicazione dei primitivi,
Torino: Rosemberg & Sellier); Erotica. Saggio sull'immaginazione, Milano:
Celuc) L'intelligibile (Napoli: Guida); Dall'apparenza al mistero. La nascita del
romanzo, Milano: Celuc); Il mito in pittura. La tradizione come critica,
Milano: Celuc); cura di Arnold Gehlen, Quadri d'epoca. Sociologia e estetica
della pittura moderna, Napoli: Guida) Retorica del sublime, Roma-Bari:
Laterza); Il bello (Bologna: Il Mulino); Interpretazione ed emancipazione. Torino:
Dipartimento di ermeneutica); introduzione a Karl Löwith, Scritti sul Giappone,
Soveria Mannelli: Rubbettino); “La favola dell'essere. Commento al Sofista”
(Macerata: Quodlibet); Estetica, Roma-Bari: Laterza); L'estetica antica, Roma-Bari: Laterza); L'amore
del pensiero, Macerata: Quodlibet); Nome e immagine (Benjamin, Roma: Bulzoni); Immagine
e verità. Studi sulla tradizione classica, Monica Ferrando, prefazione di
Sergio Givone, Roma: Edizioni di storia e letteratura, Kant e la verità
dell'apparenza, Gianluca Garelli, Torino: Ananke, introduzione a Walter Friedrich Otto, Il poeta
e gli antichi dèi, Rovereto: Zandonai. L’immaginazione
come orizzonte nomade della conoscenza. Produttività e trascendentalità
dell’immaginazione nella critica del giudizio. L’immaginazione senza immagini.
La notte delle immagini, il ricordo, la memoria. L’immaginazione come
autotrasparire dell’apparenza rappresentativa. Naturalismo simbolico e
simbolica naturale. Angelologia. Alighieri: spiritus phantasticus e alta
fantasia. Gemellarità dell’immaginazione gnostica. L’immaginazione speculativa.
Simbolismo e imagismo. Il fantastico come ideologia. Il romantico.
L’immaginazione come dimora del padre. Demone e allegoria. La forza del nome.
Icona e coscienza sofianica. Mistica. Mimesi e metessi. La nuova accademia:
l’estetico. Paradigma, schema, immagine. 1
Ovidio. Arte amatoria. Chi peregrin nell’amorosa scuola Entra , me legga,
se vuol esser dotto. Non usansi senz’arte e vele e remi; Non
senz’arte guidar si puote il cocchio; Non senz' arte si può reggere Amore. Ben
sapeva condurre Automedonte (i) Co’ focosi, destrieri il caiiro , e
Tifi r Sedea maestro \sair emonia poppa. Ne’ mister} d’ Àmot me fece
esjperto V enere bella , e ben dirmi poss’ io D’Aniore un altro
Tifi e Automedonte. Ch^ ei sia crude!, noi niego » e spesse volte
Contro me stesso si rivolta ; pure Egli è fiinciullo , e l’immatuTa'
etàde Atta si rende al fren. Docile e mite Rese Chiron l’
impetuoso^ Achilie (2) (i) Automédonte, figlio di Dioreo,fu il
Cocchierò d*lAchille , Tifi condusse gli Argonauti in Coleo sul- la
nave Argo , che qui dicesi emonia , perchè era su <mella Giasone
figlio del Re di Tessaglia , e perchè la Tessaglia si chiamala Emonia dal
monte Emo. (a) Chirone figliuol di Fillira fu il Precettore
d’A’^ chille^il qual nen chiamato ^acides fia Eaep suo Avo, Col
dolde suon della canora cetra^ Ed ei, che fu il terrore e lo
spavento De^suoi compagni spessore de’nemici. Dicesi che temesse il
vecchio annoso; E quelle mani , che dovean un giorno Gettare
a terra il forte Ettor , porgea, Quando Chirone le chiedea,alla sferza.
Ei fu d’ Achille, io son d’ Amor maestro; L’uno e 1^ altro è
fanoiul feroce, e traggo L’ un e r altro da Diva i suoi natali •
(4) Come r aratro il toro, e come il freno Doma il cavai focoso ;
io cosi Amore Render placido voglio ancor che il petto Con r arco
mi ferisca , e con la face Tutte ro’ abbruci le midolle e T ossa.
Quanto più Amore hammi ferito ed arso. Tanto più voglio vendicarmi .
Apollo, Non io, ché mentirei , dirò che appresi < Da tl»
quest’ arte, o che fui reso dotto Dal canto degli .augelli A me non
Clio, Né le Sorelle sue , come al Pastore Della valle d’ Ascrea ,
compatver mai ; Me un lung’ uso feMstrutto ; e fè pròstate Air esperto
Poeta . <Ió cose vere Canto : Madre d* Amor.^, siimi propizia.
Gite lungi j o Vestali., e voi Matrone, Che i piè celaté sotto
lunga veste. J3Ì Achilie uccise Ettore al assedio di Troja Achille
nacque dalla Dea Tetide , Amore dalla Dea Venere, a Mentre
Esiodo, cugino e quasi contemporaneo nero , pascolava in Elicona le
pecore di suo pa* dre ^ fu dalle Muse condotto al fonte Ippocrene, e
Col hefer 4i quell* acqua divenne Poeta, Come seguir sensa periglio
Amore Si possa, eA i concessi furti io canto; Nullo i miei carmi
chiuderan delitto. Tu, che novel nell’ amorosa schiera Entri
soldato, le tue cure volgi Prima a trovar de’ voti tuoi 1’ oggetto.
Indi a farlo per te amoroso, e infine Onde lunga stagìon 1’ amor si
serbi. È questo il modo, è questo il campo, in cui Scorrere
il nostro cocchio debbo ; è questa Del corso nostro la prescritta
meta. Or che il tempo è propizio , or che si puote Andare a
briglia sciolta , una ne scegli, Cui dir tu possa ; a me tu sola
piaci. Questa dal Ciel non già pensar che scenda. Ma qui trovar la
dei con gli occhi tuoi. Onde tender le reti al cervo debba.
Sa bene il caccìator , e non ignora La valle , ove il cignal
s’asconde : i rami L’ UGcellator conosce, onde si gettano 61
’incauti augelli, e al pescator son note L’acque, che maggior copia hanno
di pesci. Tu , che d^on lungo amor cerchi materia. Impara i luoghi,
ove frequenti veggonsi Le vezzose donzelle . Io non ti dico,
Che dar le vele ti fia duopo al vento. Né córrer lunga e
faticosa strada. Perseo dall’Indie ne condusse Andromeda, E
.Paride rapì di Grecia Eléna. Ma in Roma , in Roma ritrovar potrai
Fanciulle, che in beltà portino il vanto Più che del Mondo in altra parte
. Come Gargaro, Castello sul monte Ida era celebre V abbondanza
delle sue biade , e Metinna , Città nek» V Isola di Lesbo , per V
abbondanza d^ suoi vini. La gargara contrada abbonda in biade»
In uve la metinnia » in pesci U mare» In augei il bosco s e
còme nell* Olimpo Splendono stelle; così in Roma ammiransi Amabili
Fanciulle : qui sua sede Pose del grand’ Enea la bella Madre. Se a
nascente beltà ti porta il genio» Tenera donzelletta eccoti
innante; Se già formata giovine desideri» Mille ti
piaceranno » e fian costretti A rimaner sospesi i voti tuoi;
Che se a te figlia più matura e saggia Piaccia » ne avrai, mel
credi, un folto stuolo. De’ portici pompeii all’ ombra i lenti Pàssi
rivolgi, allor che Febo i campi Dall’erculeo Leon saetta ed arde,
O a quel che adorno de’ più scelti marmi Da lontani paesi a noi
venuti, LaMadre aggiunseindonoa’don delFigHo.(8) Nè quello
lascerai » ohe tragge il nome Da Livia, ornato delle pinte tele De’Pittori
più celebri ed antichi; Uno de'piU dtliziosi Portici di Roma ora
cer^ tornente ^uet di Pompeo . Giaceva questo in vicinanza dtl suo
Veatro , « i Romani lo frequentavano moltis'^ simo in tempo d*
estate, OTTAVIANO (si veda) sotto il nome d’Ottavia fabbrica un
portico in vicinanza del Teatro da lui dedicato a Marcello figlio della
medesirrsa e però dice il Poeta ,
che la Madre , cioè Ottavia , a^iunse il dono del portico al don
d^figlio , cioè al Teatro a lui innalzato d’OTTAVIANO, R questo il
portico che Livia moglie d* Augusto fabbricò nella Via sacra ; ne fa
menzione Svetonio , e vien riputato da Strabono uno d^più be*
monumenti di Roma, Visiterai pnr anco i Inoghi, dove (io)
In atto di far strage de’ Consorti Effigiate son P empie
Danàidi; E il lor Padre crudel, che nudo tiene L’acciajo
micidial nell’ empia destra; Nè il Tempio oblia, u’ Venere la
morte Plora del caro Adon , nò il giorno Sabbato Sacro al culto
giudeo • Sarà tua cura A’xneiifitìcì templi esser presente (ii)
Della liniger’ Iside ; seconda I voti questa Dea delle fanciulle»
Che desian donne diventar, coni’ essa Lo fu di Giove ^ Fra i
clamori alterni Del Foro strepitoso ( e chi mai fede Prestar ci
puote ? ) Amor rivolta trova Atto alle fiamme sue pascolo ed esca.
In quella parte ove s’innalza al cielo (la) L’ onda d’Appio » che
giace appiè del Tempio Di ricchi marmi adorno , a Vener sacro^
Prigioniero d’ Amore è 1 ’ Avvocato, (10) Il portico d*Apollo
palatino fabbricato da Au^ gusto in una parte della sua casa era adornato
di fiin^ ts immagini rappresentanti la strage^ che de*pro- prj
Mariti fecero le Danaidi per comando di Danna loro padre.
(11) Si adorala Iside figlinola d*Inaco in Menfi Città d^Egitto,
donde furono trasportati in Roma i suoi sacrificj . Fu questa amata
impudicamente da Giove, il quale la cangiò per timor di Giunone in
una Giovenca j e poi la restitm agli Egiziani nella sua pri^ stina
forma . B^la e i suoi sacerdoti andavano coperti di lino e però si
chiamava linigera. (la) Appio Censore condusse V acqua nel Foro
di Cesare; e d* architettura d* Archelao fu ivi innalzato a Venere
un Tempio , che per somma fretta poi rimase imperfetto. Che attento
alla difesa altrui, se stesso Guardar non sa • Oh quante volte, oh
quante In quel loco gli manca la favella, E deir amor che V
agita ripieno, Non della caiìsa altrui, ma della propria
S’occupa solo ! Dal propinquo Tempio Ride la Dea di Pafo, e il
difensore Trasformato veder gode in cliente. Ma più che.
altrove ne'curvi Teatri Troverai da far paghi i voti tuoi:
Ivi mille bellezze lusinghiere Si oifrìranno al tuo sguardo, e tal
potrai Per stabile passion scegliere, e tale Onde Tore passare in
gioco e in festa. Come frequente la formica in schiera Vanne al
granajo a far preda di cibo; E come Papi in olezzante suolo
Volan sul timo e sopra i fior ; le culte Donne in tal modo in folto
stuolo assistono Agli scenici ludi * È cosi grande 11 numero di
questo, cho sospeso Mille volte rimase il mio giudizio. Non
a’ Teatri per mirar, soltanto, Come per far di lor superila
mosffa Vanno non senza del pudor periglio. Tu questi giochi
strepitosi il primo, ROMOLO, instituisti; allor che il ratto NeW anno del
mondo 3a3i. fabbricò Romolo nei monte Palatino una Città o sia Fortezza ,
che dal suo nome chiamò Roma. Per accrescere il numero dei
Cittadini ^ aprì un asilo fra il Palatino e il Campi* doglio , in cui si
ricevevano i Servi fuggitivi^, i De* hitori y i Malefici . Siccome i
Popoli confinanti , e per conseguenza i Sabini nor^ volevano con tal
gente col* Segui delle Sabine • Ancor non marmi^ E non
tappeti ornavano i Teatri, Nè il palco vago era per piote
tele; Ivi semplicemente allor far posti I virgulti eie
foglie, che recava II bosco palatino, e non si vide Decorata
la scena allor con V arte* Sopra i sedili di cespugli infesti
Assistea il popol folto , uhe all’irsuta Chioma di fronde sol cingea
corona* Col cupid’occhio ognuno intanto nota Quella, che far
desia sua preda, e molti Pensieri nel suo cor tacito volge.
Mentre d’agreste flauto il suono muove Grottesca danza, ed il
confuso plauso Ferisce il ciel, ecco che il Re dà segno Onde alla
preda sua ciascun sì volga. Rapido il proprio loco ognuno lascia,
Fanne co’ gridi il suo desio palese, E le cupide mani addosso
slancia Sulle Vergin d’insidie ignare , come Fogge la timidissima
Colomba Dall’ Aquila , e de’ Lupi il fiero aspetto Agna novella ;
di spavento piene Volean cosi le misere Sabine De’ rapitori lor
schivar gli amplessi;* Ma da Ogni patte senza legge inondano^
Ninna serba il color , che aveva innante; ' ' a z lòcar U
lor Donne , Romito gli ' inoitò insieme con Ì 0 sorelle ,'7e moglie e le
figlie a unof spettacolo, che fe^ce* ìebrare in onore del Dio Conso ,
ossia di Nettuno^ € comandò d* suoi Romani che cigscun ri rapiste
fr0 quelle femmine una Consòrte. Digitized by Google
IO Tutte assale il timore ^ e in Tarj modi:
Questa il petto peroote^ il crin si straccia; Quella riman priva di sensi
; alcuna Non {>er il duol fa proferir parola; Altra la cara
madre appella invano; Chi quale statua immobile rimane;
Chi fugge, e chi di grida il cielo assorda. Ma le rapite Oiovani
condotte Son via, qual preda geniale e cara. Dì pudico rossoj
tinsero molte Le delicate guance, e vìe più piacquero. Se troppa
ripugnanza alcuna mostra, £ seguir nega il suo compagno,
questi La porta fra le sue cupide braccia, E si le dice : a
che d’amaro pianto Da begli occhj tu versi un fiume? teco Sarò come
alla Madre è il Genitore. Romolo, fu il primiero a’tuoi soldati
Vera recar felicità sapesti; Se tal sorte goder potessi anch’io,
> Io pur non sdegnerei esser soldato. Però da
quell’esempio anco a’dì nostri Trovan le Belle ne’Teatri insidie..
D’esser presente ognor cerca e procura ^ Alle corse de’rapidi
destrieri. Di gran popol capace il ;Circo augusto Molti a te
rechei!à comodi ; d’ uopo ^ Onde spiegare i tuoi pensieri
arcani Non avrai delle dita ; nè co* cenni Intendere dovrai. Franco
t’assidi, Che ninno il vieta, alla* tua donna accanto. Quanto più puòi
t’accosta al di lei fiaheo\ lE procura che il loco a.nzi ti sforzi
A toccarla, quand’eUa ancor non ! voglia. Digitized by
Google Onde seco parlar cerca materia, E da’
discorsi pubblici incomincia. Quando i cavalli appariranno,
tosto Di chi sieno richiedi, e quello, a cui Dirige i voti suoi, tu
favorisci; Macon frequente pompaallor che giungono Le statue
degli Dei, fa plauso a Venere Quale a tua Diva tutelar. Se mai Della tua
bella sulla veste cada Polve, la scoti con la mano , e fingi *
Scoterla quando pur netta si serbi; E sollecito ognor prandi
motivo Da leggiere cagion d’esserle grato. Se la sua veste
strascinasse , pronto Sii tosto a tòrla dalP immonda terra;
Per cosi tenui cure avrai in mercede, Ch^ ella poi soffrirà,
che le sue gambe Tu possa riguardar. Sia tuo pensiero, Che
quei , che sono assisì al vostro tergo, ^ ginocchi al di lei dosso,
Non le rechin molestia. I lievi ufBcj L^alme fiscili adescano : fu a
molti Util Fa ver con destra man composto Il coscino, agitar con
piccol foglio Il volubile vento, e saper porre Sotto tenero piè
concavo scanno. Farà la strada al nuovo amore il Circo, Solevano
I ROMANI portar per ih Circo le Statue degli Dei e degli Uomini sommi , quando
ivi da¬ vano lo spettacolo della corsa de^ Cavalli 0 d^ altri
giochi'. V* era fra aueste Statue ancor quella di Venere , cui vuole il Poeta
che si faccia un gran plauso* Si veda la seconda Elegia del Libro III,
degli amori scritti dgl modesimo Autore^ E la sparsa
nel foro infausta arena* Ivi pugnò spesso il Fanciul di Venere,
£ chi andò per mirar altri piagato, Ferito pur rimase. Ah
quante volte Mentre un la lingua a ragionar discioglie^ HoWà. la
mano , tiene il libro, e cerca II; vincitore del proposto premio.
Il .volatile strai senti nel seno, Gemè piagato , e accrebbe
pregio al gioco! fu bello il mirar quando con pompa Solenne
Cesare introdissse il primo (i 5 ) Non avvezze a pugnar in finta
guerra E le persiche navi e le cecropie! Da questo e da quel
mar vennero allora Giovani vaghi, amabili donzelle, E la
Città racchiuse immenso mondo. Fra tanta turba di leggiadri
oggetti Chi non tigvò da far paghi i suoi voti? Oh quanti e quanti
a forestiero laccio Porsero il piè! Ma Cesar s’apparecchia (Cesare
Augusto fece presso il Tevere rappre^ sentore una battaglia navale detta
Ncumachia. Intro^ dusse in questa a combattere le flotte che Marc*
An-^ ionio aveva raccolte contro di lui nell* Oriente ^e le navi
ateniesi denominate Cecropie da Gecrope primo Re d* Atene y che seguirono
il partito di M. Antonio^ Furono queste armate navali vinte tutte da Azio
, e servirono nella Neumachia d* un brillante spettacelo a futta
Roma. OTTAVIANO destinò una spedi^àon per V Oriente contro
Frante, e vi mandò il suo Nipote Cajo nato da Agrippa e da Giulia. Marco
Crasso e Publio suo figlio avidi delle ricchezze de* Parti intrapresero
con¬ tro i medesimi una guerra, in cui furono poi essi miseramente
trucidati con undici Legioni . Per far a Cesare un encomio, dice ora il
Poeta , che deve Cajo riportar vittoria di que* popoli , e riacquistar
la ^ne romane da loro tolte Crassi. Già il restò a sog^ogar del Mondo
inter#^ E già Taltiino Oriente è nostro ancora. La pena avrai
dovuta , o Parto audace, £ voi godete, ombre deaerassi
estinti, E con voi godan le romane insegne Di barbarica
destra a ragion schive. Ecco il vindice vostro , ognun
racclama Invitto Duce nelle schiere prime; Giovin sostiene
perigliose guerre Quasi invecchiato fra le stragi e Parmi. Deh non
vogliate, o timidi, il valore Dagli anni loro argomentar de’Numi;
E la virtù ne’Cesari preepee. Degli anni Suoi più assai
rapido sorge Celeste ingegno, e mal tollera Ponte D’una pigra
dimora. Era bambino Ercole allor che ì due serpenti oppresse. Ed èra in
fasce pur degno di Giove. O Bacco^otu che ancor fanciullo sei,
(18) Essendosi Giove innamorato perdutamente d^Alc^ mena , si
presentò a lei vestito delle sembianze d*An^ fitrione suo maritoy quando
questi trovavasi alla guer¬ ra di Tehe.Da Giove e da Alcména nacque
Ercole, che fu allevato in Tirinta Città in Marea vicina ad Ar¬ go
, e però fu detto Tirinzto . Intenta per ciò la ge¬ losa Giunone a
vendicarsi delP infedeltà di Giove, suscitò contro d* Ercole due serpenti
; ma egli li uc¬ cise valorosamente, benché fosse di tenera età,
(18) Bacco armato, d^ una lung^ asta , e seguito da Ufi esercito d*
Uomini e di Donne , corse intrepido nel* VOriente,e soggiogò quVpaesi che
allor tutti,si com¬ prendevano sotto il nome d* India . Essendo quelV
asta così acuta, che imitava la conica figurai del Pino, fu detta
dagli antichi Poeti il Tirso , giacché Thirza ià lingua ebraica nuW altro
significa, se non se un ramo di Pino^ •Intrecciavano le Baccanti sul
tirso V uve e i pampini cotk P edera p perché Bacco insegnò affli Qoanto
fosti mai grande allor che i tuoi Tirsi dovè temer l’India domata!'
E tu prode Garzon sotto gli auspiej (ly) Del Padre , Tarmi
tratterai vincendo. Sotto un nome sì chiaro aver tu dei I primi
erudì menti, e come il Prence (ao) uomini la maniera di coltivar la
vite . Alcuni Eruditi poi fChe ricercan la moralità nelle favole ^
pretendono che dipìngasi sempre giovine questo divino coltivator
della vigna ^perche gli uomini si rendon col vino in lor vecchiezza
amorosi e lascivi , come lo furono in gioventù ,. Mons„ de Lavaur con
molti altri , i quali hanno^ attentamente 'considerato le imprese di
Bacco e l* etimologia stessa del Tirso, porta verisimilmente
opinione y che sia questa favola tratta in origine da que^libri della
sacra Scrittura, che parlano di Mosè. e di JVoè, (19) Si
rivolge il Poeta a Cajo,che fu adottatò figlio da Cesare Augusto. Romolo dalle tre Tribù, nelle quali aveva
di^ stribaito il popolo romano y raccolse per ciascheduna
cento uomini, che fer nascita , per ricchezze, e per altri pregi ^^^no i
più riguardevoli. Furono questi chiamati Cavalieri y perchè trascélse
quésoli , che fes¬ ser meritevoli d* un Cavallo , su cui dovean
combat¬ tere in difesa di lui ; e si distribuirono in tre Ceti*
turie, che conservando il nome delle Tribù, dov*erano sfate raccolte, si
chiamavano é/e^Rammensi da Romo¬ lo , dei Tasienzi da Tazio Re dé Sabini,
e dei Lace¬ ri Lucomone JRe d'Etruria , che fu , come dicono., il
fondatore della Città di Lueca . Da Tarquinio Prisco, e da Servio Tullio
vennero in seguito accresciati di numero y senza mutar però il nome di
Cen* iurte ; esercitarono poi varie luminose incombenze ; e
JU'denominato il loro ordine Senatus Seminarium, perchè in esso
scieglievansi i Senatori • i 5 . Lu* Jglio facevano i Cavalieri
ogni anno splendidamente in lor rassegna, mentre dal Tempio dell’Onore,
che era situato fuori della città , andavano al campìdo*
coronati d* ulivo , cinti d^ una purpurea veste det-
Or de’Giorani sei, sarai col tempo L’oroamento miglior do'rccchj
Padri. Vendica ofFesi i tuoi fratelli, e i dritti (ai) Del Genitor
sostieni : della Patria £ Padre 6 Dlfensor Parcne ti cìnse;
Ed or che l’inimico i regni invola, Cruccioso alla vendetta egli t’invita.
Scellerati di lor saran gli strali. Pietà e Giustizia i tuoi
vessilli, e Parrni Della causa miglior sostenitrici. ' ta
trabea, t assisi sopra i loro cavalli . 0 §ni cinque anni poi appena
giunti al Campidoglio , scendevano da Cavallo , e presolo per mano lo
guidavano avanti al Censore ivi assiso sopra una sedia curale ; ed
egli comandava di ritenere il Cavallo , se bene aveva il Cavaliero
adempiuto a* suoi doveri ^e di venderlo , se aveva malamente eseguito le
sue incombenze. Leg^ geva il Censore in tale occasione il catalogo de^ Cavalieri
yC si chiamava il Principe de* Giovani o della Gioventù quello che era da
lui nominato il primo ; e ciò non perchè fossero attualmente tutti
gióvani , ma perchè lo fàrono nella prima istituzione^ e perchè
Veta giovanile si estendeva pressò i Romani fino a qua¬ rantacinque
anni. Principe de’Senatori o del Senato ne*primi tempi del¬
la Repubblica si chiamava quello che il primo tra*Sena- tori viventi era
stdto Censorey poi quel che dal Censore fosse stato nominato ili primo
nel leggere il catalogo d^ Senatori y e nell\ anno dalla fondazione
di Roma quel , che dal Censore era riputato degnissimo.
(al) Pompeo y domato il Re Tigrane y costrinse gli Armeni a
ricevere da* Romani in segno di servitù i Rettori. Si liberarono essi da
un tal giogo y ma Cajo li obbligò nuovamente a soffrirlo , e vendicò in
tal guisa i dritti d*Augusto y che dal Senato e dal Po^ polo romano
fu per mezzo di Valerio onorato del lu¬ minoso titolo di Padre della
pAt<‘ia, ^ (^a) I Parti tentavano di farsi padroni delV
Ar- mersia Ora il mio Duce alle latine aggiunga L*eoe
ricchezze. E voi j Cesare e Marte, Entrambe Padri soccorrete il
Figlio, Che in difesa di Roma espon sua vita; Come già
Marte^or tu, Cesar, sei nunie Ecco raugurio mio; tu vìncerai;
Sciorrò co’ carmi allora il voto ; degno* Tu allor fatto
sarai d’alto poema. Porrai le squadre in ordinanza, e all’
armi Co’ versi miei 1 ’ esorterai : tenaci Di me nel tuo pensiero i
detti imprimi. 11 petto forte de’ Romani, il tergo (24) Io
canterò de’ Parti , e l’inimico Telo, che vibran dal cavallo in
fuga. Mentre tu fuggi, o Parto , e cosa al vinto, Oude sia
vincitor, tu lasci ? Il tuo .Marte recò finora infausto augurio.
Dunque quel dì verrà, Cesare, in cui Tu di natura la piò amabìl
opra Di lucìd’ oro adorno andrai tirato Da quattro^ candidissimi
cavalli ? Or mal sicuri nella fuga i Regi Partici andranno
innanzi , il collo carco Dì pesante catena • Insiem confusi Giovani
lieti e tenere Donzelle, D* un’insòlita gioja il cor ripieno,
Mireran lo spettacolo gradito. " Se una di quelle a te
richiegga i nomi Di que’ Re, di que’ monti, di que’ fiumi, (a3)
Fu Cesare Augusto ascritto in aita fra i Dei , $d ebbe perciò onori
diHni. ’ (a4) Avevano i Parti in ' costume di guerreggiar
fuggendo , ed anzi si rendevano formidàbili , mentre ^ibravan le lor
saette^ da wjt cavalle rivoltp in fuga. Di que* paesi 9 a tatto ciò'
rispóndi; £ non richiesto ancora il; tutto narra, E le
cose puf anco a te mal note. Cinto di canna il crin l’Eufrate è
questo, (aS) 11 Tigri è quel colla cerulea chioma. Ecco gli
Armeni^, e Perside che tragge (a6) Da Perseo il nome suo ; nell’
achemenie Valli questa Città si giacque . Il nome Dirai di questi e
di que’Re, se il sai, O almen 1 ’ adatta . L’imbandite mense
Facile danno ed i conviti accesso, Ove da far contenti i tuoi
desiri V’ è cosa anc’ oltre i vini : ivi sovente Calcò di Bacco
l’orgogliose corna Con le tenere mani il bel Cupido, Di cui
se intrise sien 1 ’ ali nel vino Più non puote fuggir : grave s^
asside; Tu umide penne , è ver, veloce Scote. Ma non
vola per questo, anzi novelli Desta incendj nelP alme, che dal vino
Sono disposte e rese atte al calore. Ogni atra cura e molce e fuga
il vino; Allora il riso ha loco ; allor l’abietta Mendica gente
pure il capo innalza; Fuggon le cure, il duci ; le crespe fronti
Vengono liete ; e la si rara in questi Tempi semplicitade i più
secreti Pensier dell’alma svela, che il Dio Bacco (a 5 )
UEufrate ed il Tigri, avendo , secondo Vo^ pinione d*alcuni, la lor
sorgente nei Monti armenii si prendono qui dal poeta per li principali
fiumi del» V Armenia, (a6) Persìde è una famosa città , che
vuoisi fab.-» bracata da Perseo figlio di Danae nelle valli persiar
ne, dette achemtiiie dal Re Achemene Ogni mistero svela e l’arte infrange •
(27) De’ Giovanetti il cor ivi ben spesso Rapiron le Fanciulle ;
Amor nel vino Fu foco a foco unito • Ma non troppo A lucerna ti
fida ingannatrice; Mal nella notte , e fra i bicchier ricolmi
Della beltade si può far giudizio. Allo splendor del giorno, a
cielo aperto Paride rimirò le Dive allora Che alla Madre d* Amor
disse : tu vinci L’ una e 1 ’ altra in beltà , Venere bella.
S’ asconde nella notte ogni difetto; Ad ogni vizio si perdona
, e allora Ogni donna sembrare alPuom può bella; Consulta il di
guai gemme e quali lane, Tinte di tìria porpora, sien atte A fsLjp
bella la faccia e il corpo ^ Come Io delle Donne numerare il ceto
Di non ardua conquista ? E assai maggiore Dell’ arene del mar . Come di
veli Di Baja. i lidi narrerò coperti. E per calido zolfo
acque fumanti? Riportando talun ferito il petto Da queir.onde, non
son , ( come racconta La fama ) dice , salutari ognora. Ecco
di Cinzia suburbana il tempio Ì
ayl Alludesi al pros^erhio latino in vino veritas. Baja in Campania , o
com'oggi dicesi in ter-^ ra di Lavoro i era un amenissimo Castello^ che
con- teneva entro di se degli ottimi bagni caldi, e alcuni laghi in
cui rrnvigavan gli antichi con diverse barche variamente dipinte, sulle quali
facevano ancora de^ gli allegri conviti. Questa Dea, che si
chiama Lucina in Cielo, Eeate neW inferno, e Diana in terra , ha ancor
fra Silvestre» ed ecco ì conquistati Regni.
Perchè vergifte ella è » perchè ella in odio Ave d’Amor gli 8tijali,.al
popol diede» £ mai sempre darà mille ferUè. ^ Fin qui
Talia sopra ineguali rote( 3 o) Come tu debba scer T amato oggetto»
E dove tender t’insegnò le reti. Della tua Bella onde
adescare il cére Preparo or io delF arte opra speciale. Uomini» voi
chiunque » e donde siate, Porgete al mio parlar docili menti»
E le promesse mie ptopizj udite. Tosto nell’ alma tua scenda la
speme Di conquistarle» e vincitor sarai; gli altri nomi
quello di Cinzia » perchè essa ed Apoi* lo nacquer nelVIsola di Deio »
ov^ è il Monte Cinto. I popoli del Chersoneso » o com* ora chiamansi »
della Crimea » le immolavano gli ospiti ivi spinti dalle tempeste,
he femmine romane » dopo Vavere ottérsuto ciò che htamavun co" voti,
andavano a* d*Agosto con le. faci ardenti in mano, e la corona eul
capo\ al Tempio suhurbano di questa Dea situato in Arì^ eia. Quivi
frequentemente i Sacerdoti succedevano gli uni agli altri » mentre , non
godevano di questa di* gnità solamente gV ingenui, ma se la
contrastavano anche i servi e i fuggitivi in una guerra particola*
re » in cui chi riportava la vittoria , otteneva a un tempo stesso il
Sacerdozio » che apprezzavano come un Kegno. Una tal Dea peraltro y
quantunque sten* desse dal cielo per godere del suo Pastorèllo
Endi-- mione » fu sommamente gelosa della propria pudici* zia,
giacché trasformò in Cervo Atteone \ perchè osò di guardarla quando era
nuda in un bagno. (3o) Talia è quella Musa » che presiede
principale mente a* Canti piacevoli e amorosi. Dice OVIDIO che dia
insegnò sopra inegnali rote ec. alludendo al diè stico latino » il di cui
Esametro ha » com* è noto ^ sA piedi, e cinque il Pentametro^
Ma intanto tender dei T insidie : prima Gli augelli taceran di
primavera, Le cicale in estate , e il can d^Arcadia Incontro
a lepre prenderà la fuga, Che dolcemente Femmina tentata A
Giovine resista ; e quella ancora Tu vincerai, che ti parrà
ritrosa. Come il piacer furtivo è grato alF Uomo, £ grato
alla Donzella . Asconde questa Le brame sue, T nomo le cela invano;
Ma se tu possa* vincerla una volta, Preverrà con le sue le tue
preghiere. Ne’ molli prati al suo Torello accanto La giovenca
muggisce ; e la Cavalla Col suo nitrir fa lusinghiero invito Al
cornipede maschio . In noi pkt forti^ Ma non però cosi furiosi,
sono Gli stimoli d’ amor i lodevol fine Ha la fiamma delP Uomo. A
che di Biblì ( 3 i) Ricorderò, che d’ un vietato amore Arse pel suo
Fratello , e pon un laccio Vendicò da se stessa il suo misfatto?
Non, come Figlia dee,Mirra amò il Padre,( 3 a^ (3i) BiUi nata
da Mileto e dalla Ninfa. Gianczf , amò perdutamente Canno suo fratello.
Siccome non Ve riuscì di renderlo à sitò riguardo amoroso ^ si die
in preda a un pianto così dirotto ( se si presti je e al libro IX. delle
Metamorfosi ) che fu convertita VI un fonte yo( se si crede al libro
presente ) si prò-- curò ella etessa con un laccio la morte.
(3a) Avendo Mirra concepito un immenso amore per Cinìra suo padre ,
gli fu posta in letto da me nutrice in luogo della consorte. Accortosi
Cinira del fallo , tentò di uccìderla } ma essa fuggì bay ove fu
cangiata in albero , e diede alla luce il bellissimo Adone , che fU V
‘unico frutto d un st fu nesto incestuoso accoppiamento. E oppressa
ora si cela in chiasa scorza: Delle lagrime poi, che dal suo tronco
Odoroso essa elice ^ ungiam le membra. Che s^ban quteste stille il primo
nome, Del frondos’Ida nelVombròse valli. Era forse la gloria e la delizia Deir
armento un Torel candido , solo Negro segnale avea fra corno e
corno: Una sol f^u la maccbìa, e latteo il resto. Questo
bramaron sostener sul tergo Le giovenche ginosie e di Canea. Oodea
di farsi adultera Pasifae (34) Del Toro., e'nel ano ooj geloso
sdegno Nutria contro le amabili giovenche: Io cose note
canto; e ciò non punte Creta negar, quantunque siai*iqendace.
Creta, cui son cpnto Città soggette. Con r inesperta man ; Pasifae
ali Totro Dicesi recideste or verdi frondey S 1 Or r erbe
tenerissime de’ prati.2 Erra compagna dèli’st>nentOì,;e invano-
Del maiitoy pensier T arresta j vinto. Era Minos da-un hove ^ A
rche* tu vesti, . Donna , preziose spoglie ? Il tuo Diletto Mà è un
mont 0 ^ Creta ; nè deéù qui còn^ fondere cpl Monta, Ida^ pqiaao , ope
seguii la famgsa lite fra Venere y Pallade e Óit^none. (34)
Sdegnata Venere contro il Sole y perchè Vavea fatta sorprèndete da^*Numi
det letto con Marte ffe* à che Pasifae figlia del .medesimo , e moglie di
Mi-» nos Re di Creta, ^ innamorasse ardentemente d* un Toro.
Essendosi questa racchiusa in una Giovenca di legno coitmtta da Dedìdà y
si congiunse col Toro diletto, e diede al Sole, in nipote il celebre
Minotaio- To , che fu ucciso da Teseo nel famoso làbcrkito»
Di tai ricchezze non conósce il pregio. Mentre vai di montano
armento io traccia, A che giova lo specchio , a che le chiome.
Lassa, adornar si spesso ? Ah I presta fede Pare allo specchio 4 che
bovina forma Ti nega ; invan veder sulla tua fronte Desideri le
cornac Se ti piace ' Minos, a che un adultero ricerchi P E se brami
ingannarlo , a ché noi fai Con un Uomo? Per boschi e per foreste
Oià la Regina , il talamo lasciato, ^ Vanne quasi fiaccante , a cui
furore Spiri P aonio Dio . Oh quante volte La giovènca «rivai con
volto iniquo Mirò, e fra se, perchè tu piaci, disse, Al mio Signor ? Ve^com^* in facciala
lai* Scherza sull’erbe tenere , ed esulta,, E tài fóIlié/-non
dubito non credai ^ Per lei decenti : mentre in suo pensiero:
Volge tai còse , ordina che sia tolta* ^ • Dal gregge immenso , è
immeritevol venga Al curvo giogo strascinata, o vuole Di
snperstizion sacrai * fra-l’are • • Vittima cada;!e nella fi^ta
dtwtr^ Gode tener .le.:.viscero fumanti — -Dell’uccisa rivai. AHI quante voke
? Gon le uccise rivaV placando i NUìiii, ^ Disse,
tenendo'visceri\-'piacete ' Al mio Dilettov e quante volte
ancora Chiese in Europa èsserconversa e in Io, (35) (35)
Europa figlia di Agenorg Re di Fenicia , ^ éorella di Cadmo , era dotata
di^ sorprendente^ bellez¬ za. Aree Giòvo per Ui. di un amore così
violento, aS Che questa è una Giovenca, e quella
ìMotso' Premè d’ un Bovo . Fè le strane voglie Paghe Pasifae ascosa
in lignea vacca, Onde il parto alla luce uscì biforme.
Se sapeva piacere ad un sol uomo^ (36) E foggia di Tieste il
turpe amore D’ Atreo la Sposa, non avrebbe Febo Il cammino sospeso
in mezzo al corso, E rivoltato il carro, i suoi destrieri
Mossi incontroairAurora. Anco la Figlia,( 37 ) Che i purpurei capelli
involò a Niso, Coprì del corpo suo le parti estreme Con la
sembianza de’ rabbiosi cani. thè trasformatosi in Toro, la portò
sul suo dorso in quella parte di Mondo , che dal nome della medesu
ma si chiama Europa. Io y o Iside fu , come Si è detto al numerò
ii. epnoertita dallo stesso Giove in una Giovenca. (36) Erope
moglie d* Atreo giacque con Tieste fra^ tello del medesimo, e nacquer da
essi due figlj, che avendo Atreo dati a mangiare al lor padre
medesimo in un convito, il Sole per celare un tanto misfattò tornò
indietro , e corse incontro aWAurora. Scilla, figlia di Niso Re di Megara
s^ inva^ ghì di Minos Re di Creta , che le assediava la pa^* trìa,
e a lui recò il purpureo capello del padre, dal qual dipendevano i fati
di quella Città. Essa fu jj^i disprezzata harharamente dalV ingrato Minos
, e fu , secondo le metamorfosi, cangiata in uccello. Vi fu però
un^altra Scilla figlia di Eorci , la quale , avendo bevuto un^acqua per
lei avvelenata da Circe , venne subito trasformata in un mostro, la di
ciS parte inferire era simile a quella di un Cane. Con-^ eepì la
medesima tanto orror di sé stessa , che si get>» tò in un golfo del
mar di Sicilia , che ha preso da ^ella il suo nome» Ovidio ha qui confuso
fseste due Il Figliuolo d^Atieo, che in terra e in mare (SU) Di
Marte e di Nettuno evitò V ira. Cadde vìttima poi della
Consorte. Chi di Creusa sull’inìqua hamma (Sq) Non sparse il
pianto, e sulla Strage orrenda Che fe* de’proprj figli un* empia Madre
? Frivo degli occhi pur pianse Fenicio, (4o) E voi, oarallì
spaventati, il vostro ( 4 i) (38) Agamennone è veramente figlio di
Filistene , ma da Ornerò^ e da tutti gli antichi poeti gli vien
dato per padre Aireo suo aco come un personaggio più celebre» Fu
dichiarato Agamennone per le sue mira^ bili imprese il Re deTle di
Grecia, e per tradimento di Clìtennestra sua moglie ucciso da Egisto ,
dal quale era ella amata impudicamente, ( 39 ) Giasone j
abbandonata Medea, sposò Creusa figlia di Creonte Re di Corinto, Medea
per vendicarsi di tafe infedeltà , f^ strage di due teneri
fanciulli nati da lei 4 da Giasone, e ridusse con fuoco ariifi-
doso in cenere ì* infelice Creusa e tutta la famiglia e la Reggia di
Cleonte, (40) Furono tratti gli occhi a Fenicio figliuol d^A^
mintore, perchè una concubina del padre Vaccusò falsamente d'acerle tolto
Vonore, Ricuperò egli la vi¬ sta per i farmaci a lui apprestati da
Chirone , il qual gli die poi in custodia il giovine Achille, con
cui andò aWassedio d,i Troja, (41) Ippolito figlio di Teseo
disprezzo Vamorosa corrispondenza che gli esibì Fedra sua matrigna,
Sde¬ gnata ella fieramene di ciò , disse al padre , che le aveva il
medesima insidiato V onestà ^ e Teseo lo ab¬ bandonò al furor di Nettuno,
Essendo per ciò com¬ parso un orribil mostro marino^ mentre Ippolito se
ne andava sul suo, carro lungo la spiaggia del mare , i cavalli per
lo spavento preser la fuga, marciarono il legno in pezzi ^ e trucidarono
miseramente il lor Cgxìdottii^o, > Condottier tracidaste.E
perchè» o Pinco, (42) Gli occhi tu togli agPinnpcenti figlj ?
Ah che la atessa ^eaa. il tuo delitto Un dì vendicherà. Tali
infortunj ^ Da uno sfrenato aq^or trasse sorgente Delle lubriche
donpe . Ornai t’ affretta, £ non temer di ritrovar contrasto
Nelle Donzelle ; appena, una fra molte * Ne incontreraiepe. a te neghi
vittoria. E r indulgènti e, le ritrose pure lì Goì^qu esser
pregata; pna ripulsa I Non ti spaventi ^ è questa ingannatrice. iMa
perchè ingannatrice Y ognor pip grata INuova per esse voluttà
riesce. |E l’alma loro adescan facilmente |l novelli amatori
..'Il vici^ campp Ci sembra più .ijber^^so ,^0 il gregge altrui
^-,*• /• - Vedi che a parte sia della Padroni
I ) Ov, Arte (Tarn. b (4a) Fineo
figlimi Agenore Re Arcadia yO co¬ me ad altri piaqe, di Tracia , o di
Paflagonia y spo¬ sò Cleopafi^a figlia di Bqrea, e‘. n*ehbe due
figli. O sia che questa morissero che fosse da lui ripudia¬ ta y
prese il medesimo in moglie Arpài ice , e cornane dò , che fossero ioltìr
gli occhi a* due figlj della sua prima eoniorte, perché temè che
aiiesjser avuto un il¬ lecito commercio con Ija novella sua sposa. Fu
da Borea vendicata V innocenza do* nipoti con Vacciecof- mento di
Fineo , e Giunone e Nettuno gli mandaro¬ no sulle mense le Arpie y che a
lui macchiavano tur¬ pemente quelle ‘ vivandé y che non mangiavano
essa stesse De’ nascosti consiglj, e de’ piaceri Suoi più segreti.
Con promesse e prieghi Corrompi la sua fi; tutto otterrai,
Quand’ ella voglia, e non ti sia contraria, Dalla facil. tua Bella
• Il tèmpo scelga. Come i Medici sogliono , propìzio. Onde il
tuo amor nel dodi cor le infonda. Ella il tuo amor le infonderà nel
core, Quando per lieti eventi andrà giuliva Come lussureggiare in
pìngue campo ' Suole la biada. Quando r alma è scarca Dalle pallide
cure , e lieta esulta. Si spande allora , e dà facile accesso
ÀH’arti lusinghevoli d’amore. Mentre fra i neri affanni involta
visse " Troja , con V armi si difese ; e lieta (43) Il
cavai di soldati e insìdie pieno Àccolèe entro le mòra. Ancor si
tenti, £ non rimanga inyendicata , quando Si dorrà , chè
riceve ingiuria e scorno Dall* impudica Amante del Marito. La
punga a sdegno la fedele Ancella, Quando col pettin mattutin
compone Gl* indocili capelli, ed alle vele. L’ ajuto aggiùnga
anco de’ remi, e dica, Sospir seco tràehdo, in bassa vocè: Tu
noli potrai, cred’io » come si merta. Rendergli la pariglia. Allor le
parli Di te con detti insinuanti , e.giuri Che tu brugi per lei
d’immenso amore. Mentre il tempo è propizio , ella s’ affretti
( 43 ) Alludesi al cavallo di Ugno ^cht il perfido Sinone
introdusse pien di soldati in Troja , quando tra assediata da* Greci»
Virgilio Endde IÀh»lÌ»v» Che non cadan le vele, e cessi il vento.
Come sì scioglie il gel, V ira , indugiando^ Si dilegua così. Forse mi
chiedi. Se la servente innamorar ti giovi ? Tai cose
ammesse, il rischio é manifesto^ Una rende V amor più diligente,
L’ altra più tarda e meno attenta : questa Alla Padrona sua ti
serba in dono, Quella a se stessa • esito dipende Dalla
fortuna, che quantunque arrichì Agli audaci ^ a te do fedel consiglio.
Che d’ un’ impresa tal lasci il pensiero. Non per scoscese
perigliose strade Andrò, nè, duce me, verrà ingannato Alcun Giovine
amante * Ma se poi, Mentre riceve e assiduamente porta L’innamorate
cifrerà te non solo Per la sua fedeltà piaccia, com’ anco Per la
beltà del corpo ; allor procura Della Padrona in pria il possesso, e
ch’indi Questa la segua: l’amoroso gaudio Non dall’ Ancella
incominciar tu dei* Se all’arte mia si crede, e i detti miei
Non portano pel mar rapaci i venti, Questo consìglio mìo nell’alma
imprimi: Non mai tentar 9 se non compisci l’opra» Se a parte ella
verrà del tuo delitto. Non la temere accusatrìce • Invano
Invischiato l’angel tenta la fuga. Nè riesce già uscir dalle
allentate Reti al cinghiale • Il pesce all’ amo colto Si scota
invano ; tu la premi e assedia. Nè la lasciar , se vincitor non
sei. Se a una colpa comune ella soggiace, Non temer tradimenti
; a te saranno Note della Padrona opre e parole. Se cauto
celerai 1’ accusatrice. Sempre, contezza avrai della tua
Amica. Folle è colui che in suo pensier si crede òhe sol debban del
cielo osservar gli astri Della terra il cultore ed i nocchieri.
Non a’ campi fallaci ognor sì debbe Cerere abbandonar, nè alle
tranquille*^ Cerulee onde del mar la curva prora. Ah 1 che
non sempre assicurar ti puoi Il cor di vincer delle Belle; spesso
Ciò s’otterrà, se il tempo sìa propìzio. Se deir Amica il natalizio
giorno (44) (44) Era presso gli Antichi in gran venerazione
il giorno natalizio : e gli Amanti celebravano ‘ con feste e con
doni quello^ in cui eran nate le Donne che ama^ vano . Si dee preferir
certamente questa lieta costui manza a quella che hanno adottato i
Messicani e i Cinesi, i quali riguardano un tal giorno come
infausto e doloroso . Alcuni di essi invece di ricevere con ac¬
clamazioni di gioja la nascita d^ un figlio , gli rispon¬ dono ai suoi
primi singulti , mio figlio tu sei venuto al mondo per soffrire \ soffri
^ e t’acquieta . Si fab- hrican altri di buon^ ora la tomba, e vanno
ogni giorno a renderle omaggio come al termine consola¬ tor é
d^.lor giorni . Non poco influisce, a dir vero, un tal uso a fomentare il
barbaro costume d^ uccidere i proprp figli in un popola ^ il guala non
gli Ottimi suoi libri classici illustrati dall* immortai Confueio e
con le savissime leggi, su cui ha stabilito il suo pacifico Impero,
cerca di rendersi virtuoso ed illuminato. Èra presso i Romani nel
suo pieno vigore P uso delle visite e de* doni nel principio dell* anno,
il qua- le incominciava anticamente col mese di Marzo , le di cui
Colende eran consacrate al Dio Marte . Cele- hravand in Roma nel primo
giorno d*un tal mese alcune feste dette matronali in memoria della
pace Ricorra , o le Calende che seguito Abbiaa quelle di Marte, a
Vener piace, O sia che il Circo sì rimiri adorno, (45) Non
come in altre età, di statue lievi. Ma per le spoglie ivi de i Re
deposte, L’ opra differirai : sovrasta allora Con le piovose
Plejadi P inverno; Allor nella marina onda s’immerge Il Capro
tenerello ; allora giova Deporre ogni pensier . Chi al mar s’afSda
Del lacero naviglio appena puote 1 miseri campar naufraghi avanzi.
Tu se in quel dì incominci , in cui si vide che le Sabine
avevano appunto in tal di stabilita fra i loro SpoH , ed i loro Padri , i
quali volevano con V armi vendicare il ratto delle medesime . Le
persone maritate avevano solamente diritto a queste feste / ed
OraT^io nell* Ode ottava del Libro III. si scusa, perchè vi prende parte
anch? egli , essendo celibe. Siccome il mese d* Aprile è sacro a
Venere , e suc^ cede a quello di Marzo dedicato a Marte , dice il
Poeta che Venere gode che abhian le sv^e Calende seguito quelle di Marte
per alludere alVamorosa cor^ rispondenza che ella aveva coi Dio della
guerra . Le Ihnne e le Matrone romane facevan nelle Calende
d*Aprile gran festa a questa lor Pea tutelare ; e gH Amanti contribuivano
alle medesime con le donazioni. Non vuole il Poeta, che si studino i
Giovani per adescar le Donne nel lor giorno natalizio , nel
principio dell* anno , e in occasione de^trionfi celebrati nel Circo ,
perchè essendo le medesime allora occupate in adornarsi , incontrerebbono
qiiP gravi pericoli , che sono qui espressi con l* allegoria dell*
Inverno , e con quella delle Plejadi e del Capro , le quali stelle
sorgon sull* orizzonte nel mese d* Ottobre , che è un tempo pieno
di pioggia e di tempeste , e perciò non propizia a* Naviganti.. Scorrer
sanguigno umor la flébìl Allia Per le piaghe latine, o in quello in cui
Torna la festa settima, che è sacra Al Palestin siriaco, e in cui s’
astiene Ognun dalla fatica, avrai mai sempre Culto superstizioso al
di natale Delia tua Bella ; pur funesto giorno Sia quello , in cui
tu offrir dono le debba; Ma a te lo rapirà , se tu gliel nieghi,
Che a Femina mancar non puote 1’ arte Per carpir le ricchezze a Giovin
caldo. Del Mercante il Garzon verrà discinto Alla vogliosa ed avida
Padrona, E porrà le sue metti in vaga mostra, Mentre tu
giungi, e al fianco suo t’assidi. Essa ti pregherà, che tu le
osservi Per additarne il prezzo ^ e liberale Ti sarà di preghiere e
ancor di baci, Perchè le compri , e giurerà contenta D’ esserne per
molt’ anni , e che non puoi Comprarle cosa che le sia più accetta.
Se poi ti scusi che non hai denaro, Ti chiederà il tuo nome ,
e turpe fia Per scusa addur , che tu firmar noi sai. Rinasce poi,
quando le fa bisogno, (46) A ih. Agosto ebbero i Romani una
sconfitta da* Galli sul fiume Allia non lontano da Roma , onde come
infausto e di pessimo nome fu condannato un tal giorno . Crede il Poeta ,
che debbano i Giovani onorare il dì natalizio delle lor Belle , e vuole
che intraprendano V amorose loro conquiste 0 in que* ma-- linconici
tempi qui figurati sotto il giorno alliense, CUI aman le Donne d* esser
rallegrate, o in que^giorni festivi simili a* sabbati giudaici , ne*
quali non è alle medesime permesso 4 * occuparsi in alcun
lavoro. Che dell* offerte natalizie il giorno Rìeda y e di pianto sa
bagnare il volto Per la supposta perdita di pietra. Che le
ornava 1’ orecchio . D* altre cose L’ uso ti chiedrà , che date poi
Renderle nega ; tu le perdi , e invano Speri per ciò che grata ti si
mostri. No , quando avessi dieci lìngue e dieci Bocche , io
già non potrei dell’ impudiche Donne n^^rare le sacrìleghe arti, li
guado tenti un ben vergato foglio; E della mente tua la prima
volta Sia nunzio ; le carezze, e le parole, Che imitino il
linguaggio d’ un Aliante Rechi , e fervide aggiungi anco preghiere.
Donò da’prieghi mosso a PriamoAchille (4?) Di Ettor l’esangue spoglia; e
Iddio sdegnato A voci supplichevoli si piega. . Prometti pur
, che nuocer già non ponno Mai le prorjaesse ; ognun può farai
ricco Con semplici parole. La speraD 2 $a Data una volta , lungo
tempo dura: C' inganna , è ver , ma Diva utile è a noi. Se
liberal con lei fosti di doni, Avrà ragion d* abbandonarti ;
quello, Che già le desti, è suo , nò può timore Di perdita
nutrir . Ognor tu devi (47) Achille dc^ aper ttraseinato tre volte
intorno alle mura di Troja il corpo d* Ettore da lui ucciso alV
assedio di quella Città y lo rese finalmente y 0 a dir meglio , lo vendè\
a- ^Priamo Padre del, medesimOy che prostrato a* suoi pièdi > lo
pregava di ciò caldamente^ Exanimumaue amo oorpns vendebat
Achillea. 1 Virgil Finger di dar quel che non desti;
spesso Fu deluso così di steril campo II credulo Padron • Così,
perdendo A perder segue il giocator, nè lascia Per questo il gioco
; e il lusinghiero dado Nelle cupide mani agita ognora.
Questa è Tiinpresa, e qui il Valore è posto; Ascolta ; senza doni
il suo cor tenta La prima-volta, ancor che ì doni apprezzi; Se lor
liberal ti sia, 8«^rallo Ognora. Vada dunque il tuo foglio , ma
vergato Con detti lusinghieri ; della Bella La mente esplori ,*e
primo il caihmin tenti. Cidippe ingannò un pomo, in bui rincue(48)
Note leggendo, fu di queste preda. O Giovani romani , io vel
consiglio. Deh coltivate le bell’ arti ; solo Non utili Saran
per la difesa ' De^ paurosi Rei ; ma dalla forza Del facondo
parlar, vinta la mano A voi daran col Giudice severo. Con lo
scelto Senato , e ilPopol folto Ancor le culte amabili Donzelle.
(48) Da Zea una delle Isole Clclàdì andò Acanzio in Deio per
assistere a* sacrifici di- Diana , che là si celebravano splendidamente.
Ivi ei concepì uìà^ immenso amore per Cidippe, ma non ardiva di chiederla
in is- posa . Stette molto tempo dubbioso nello scegliere lin mezzo
per appagare la sua passione ^ ma in lui ces^ sarono i dubbj quando
intese che vigeva in Deio una legge , per cui restava concluso tutto ciò
che si diceva nel tempio di Diana ; è però gettò a* jùedi della
sita Bella un pomo y in cui erano scritti i versi seguenti* Juro
tibi sane per mystica sacra Dianae He Ubi venturam comitem sponsamque
futuram: Ascosa V arte resti, e da principio Non sii eloquente.
Da’vergati, foglj Vadan lungi parole aspre e ricerche. Chi
mai, se non. di senno affatto privo» In tuono volgerà declamatorio
. < ; Alla tenera Amica il suo discorso? Oh quante
volte fu giusta cagione Di grave sdegno un foglio ! 1 detti tuoi
Meritin fede , e adopra usati accenti» Ma sempre, lusinghieri »
onde l,e sembri^ D’udirti ragionare . Se ricusa, •. Di
ricevere il foglio , e sena’ averlo , . Letto a te lo rimandi » |a
speranza Però non t’abbandoni » e ,il mio consiglio , Serba in
memoria , II. collo al giogo piega Il Giovenco difficile col tempo»
E a soffrir s’ammaestra il lento freno Col tempo anco il Cavallo.
Un ferjreo anello Dal cootinao nso si consuma » e il vomere* Dal
continuo rivolgere la terra Che del sasso è più duro? e che più molle
' Avvi dell’ onda ? eppure il duco sasso Dall’ onda molle vieu
scavato . Ancora» Se sii costante» vincerai col tempo
Penelope med^sma : » A vero» ,, Caddero al suolo le trojatie.^muri^»
Ma pur caddero alfin 1 ìtiglj tuoi , Leggerà anch’ oasa » e
non darà risposta» Cui tu non debbi violentarla : solo Fa che
ognor legga lusinghieri accenti» £ di risposta alba sarà
cortese A ciò che l^sse ; a gradi e con misura Succedefansi questi
ufficj ; Forse / Verrà da. prima A tc foglio dolente»,
à a Digitized by “Google 34
Con cui ti pregherà, che r amoroso Linguaggio cessi ; nia desia il
contrario Entro il suo core, e vuol che tu prosegua. Continua
danque;e alfin resi contenti Saranno ì voti tuoi . Quando supina
Vien trasportata sulle molli piume. Fingendo indifferenza, ti
presenta Della Padrona alla lettiga ; e canto, E in cifre
ambigue quanto puoi favella. Onde qualchfe importuno udir non possa
Il vostro ragionar 7 Sé’ volge il piede Negli spaziosi portici , tu
quivi Trattienti fin eh* ella^ vi fa dimora. Or la precedi ed
or la segui a tergo: Or lento movi il passo , ed or t* affretta.
Nè d^ inoltrarti iU ntezzb alle colonne Abbi rossor, nè di sederle al fianco.
Non ne’ Teatri senza te si trovi, E segnai póVti al teigo ,
onde la vegga. Giacch* ivi il puoi, contemplala , e le dici Quanto
brami co’segni è con lo sguardo. Alla saltante applaudisci l e sii
Favoirevole a quei che rappresenta Personaggio amoroso . S* ella
sorge, Sorgi ; e ti assidi pur, s’ ella s’assida; £ a
suo ^piacere il tèmpo tuo consuma. Ma non volere innanelìare il
crine Coiì’càldo ferro, e con lUordacè pomice ' Stropicciarti le
gambe ; il che tu lascia A’molli Sacerdoti di Cibale. ( 49 )
( 49 ) Oj9e , o Vesta , che ancor dicevi Rea yC la Dea Buona, è Madre
degli Dei, e si chiama Cibale ; per^ che nel monte Gibele dU Frigia U
furono la prima Beltà negletta agli uomini conviene: Vinse
Teseo; Afianna » e la rapio Disa.doroo le<t;onipie , il cria
scompQsto;( So) Arse pe}*:FiglÌQ:Fe.drtt., ed era incolto; Cura e
deli^^ia. della Dea ;d’. Amore . Fu Adon ,:che fra le selve i di
traeva. S’ann^grin pur le membra al marzio Campo, Ma si^o monde, e
monda sia la ve8te.(Si) Aspra non sia la lingua, e netti sieno.i
Dalla lug^e i denti; il mobil».piede . > Non nuoti ih larga pollo
;^*ed ìne6perta i>olta kelel^ati i sacrificj » T suoi
Sacerdòti" éràtio ew.- nuchi , e ogni giorno ,ger comparir moftdi ,
si raschia^ van membra, t ( 5 o) Ari^nay figlia del Re Minos
, s* innamorò per¬ dutamente di Teseo , che fu da* Greci mandato con
al- tri giovani in Creta per esser divorato dal Ii/Iinotauro~, Etsa
gV insegnò la maniera d*'uscir dal làbérinto quàn^ do avesse ucciso quel
mostroe in compagnia di dra sua sorella s*.iifcamminò con. VAmante^ che
dpmato il Minofauro y tornava in Grecia vittorioso . Teseo chi nel
viaggio orasi gik invaghito di Fedra ^ lasciò bar-' Caramente in Nasso
Arianna , .e andò con la sorella Ì2i Atene sua patria . Ivi questa
dioonne , come si è detto, amante d*Ippplito nato da Tesele da
Ippoli¬ ta Regina duello Amaz%oni. Venere amò ardehtemente
Adone ^figlio di Cinirq, e di Mirra , quantunque vivesse continuamente
né^ bos¬ chi intento a caccksre le fiere. Pianse ella amaramert’^
te perchè questo giovinetto fu ucciso da un cinghiale^ e nony avrebbe mai
reso a Proserpina , se Giove non comandava', che per otto mesi avesse
Venere il posses¬ so d* Adone , e per gli altri quattro sei godesse
Pro¬ serpina . '( 5 i) Nel Campo martió d facevano in Roma
al¬ cuni giochi, pe*quali i giocatori si snudavano intera¬ mente ,
« si dngevan le membra con degli unguenti, che rendeano a* medesimi nera
la pelle Forbice non ti renda il crin deforme t Ma da maestra iuan^ ti
sia recisa E la chioma e la barba i $enza macchie Sian r unghie, nè
soverchinoi le dita; Nelle concave nari non si scorga ^ ^
Alcun pelo; nè esali nn tris^to fiato* - ' La bocca; e il naso non
rimanga olfeilO „ Da che il fetido becco ognora sape^ ' A
lasciva Fanciulla il resto lascia, £ alla bardassa . Ma già Bacco
òhiama Il vate suo : soccorre ei pur gli amanti; E, la fiamma
che learde ei favorisce. „ Furente errava la creten.^ Ppnna (Sa)
Pcjr di Nasso ignota arena, . Che flagellano ognor T onde dei
mare» Ella coperta con discinta veste Come nel sonno , nudo
il pjede e sciolte Le crocee chiome, al sordo mar si volge;. E bagnando
di lagrime le gote, Teseo chiamava in alto suòli : gridava,
E in un piangea la mìsera, ma in lei Era tutto decente ; nè men
bella Fu di lagrime aspersa « di dolore. Mentre di nuovo con
le man fa ingiuria Al delicato petto, a che fuggisti t É cosa
fia.di me, perfido? dice^ Di me che fia, ripete ; e intanto il
lido De* cìtnbali e de’timpani p^cossi' Da un* attonita mano
il suono assorda. ( 5 2) Quando Arianna si vide aèhandonata
nell* sola di Dfasso^si diede in preda all* ultima dispera^ sùone .
Bacco ivi accorso con le Baeeànti e Cón Sileno , sfio pedagogo, la prpse
in sposa y e collocò la. di hi chioma in Cieìp prenQ ad 4 rtur ^t \
v.t Ca<l’ ella al suolo 4a timor sorpresa; Le mbucaa le
iparole ; e piik pon scorro Per le;geliAe} oppresse membra il
sangue. S’ appreesan ile ^eoauti^ U<cfia disciulto^ Ed opQO;i
liéyl 3iltiri soiio Previa turbo del DiOi*;£coo sul dorso D* uo<
pasciuto asinel V ebrio Sileno Carico d’ anoi.y^^che :si reggo
appena, E profiumo aspirare>i )brevi crini. Meiìftr
eglit seguei'le! Saeeanti, e queste Lo cfaiadianp /oggende ; l’inesperto
. Cavaliere il qjUadrtipedo, suo si^za. Deir aaiào orecchiuto
al capo scorre, E a terra cade : i Satiri griderò;
Sorgi V deh sorgi y o Padre . Intanto giunge 11 Dio ^ che d’ uva al
carro adorno accoppia Le tigri, a ouircoh le dorate briglie 11
freno regge, • Partì : Teseo , e insieme D’ Arianna, fa voce ed il
dolore. Tentò tre volte di fuggir , ma invanoy Chè il timor
la trattenne, e inorridita Tremò qUal steril spiga al vento,e com#
Leggiera canna in umida palude; Allora il Dio le disse : * ogni
timore, Cretease 'Donna , dal tuo cer disgombra; In me tu* vedi un
più fedele amante; Di Baceo anzi sarai la dolce sposa.
Tu spazierai nel ciel ; la tua corona Lucida stella in ciel sarà di
scorta Air incerto Nocchiero in suo cammino. Di^se , e dal carro
scese, onde non debba Seatir paura delle tigri, e il piede Sulla
docil arena impresse Torme. Eapilla poscia, e se la strinse al
seno> Chè tentato avria id van forgi! contralto^
Mentre fonile a un Dio tutto si rende. De’suoi segnacr imen cantd
una parte, L’altra ripetè in alto snon gli evviva. Cosi al letto
nuziale il 0io 4 la Sposa ' Furon guidati^ e s’annoSdaro insieme.
Quando tu sederai con donna a mensa, E di Bacco a te offerti i
doiii siedo, > Tu a Bacco,èa‘*NunJi che^han fa cena in
euri Porgerai voti, onde (dal Vrn non venga Offeso il capo ’ tuo ;
Quivi* tu puoi ‘ ‘ Con ambigue parole a lèi far iloti’ "
; I segreti del cor, ma per6^in modo ' Che ben s’ accorga esser a
lei dirette. Potrai tu ancor con gocmole di vino Teneri accenti
esporre, onde conosca, Ch’ ella assolnto ha nel tuo core
impero. Co’ tuoi s’incontrin jgli oocbi suoi ,<ed il fòco Che
t’arde il sené , a lei foccian palese; Parla talora col silenzio il
volto. Procura il primo di rapir la tazza. In cni bevv’
ella , e dove i labbri impresse. Bevi tn pur : qualunque il cibo
sia Bichieder dei, che tocco avrà col dito; * E mentre il
chiedi, a lei strìngi la mano. Volgi i tuoi voti pure, onde tu
piaccia Della Bella, al Marito . Assai ti puoto * Util recar,
se a te sia fatto amìcoi Se dai la legge al bere, a lui la mano Solevano
i Rfìmarù appena posti a mensa eleg^, gere il maestro della cena y che da
Orazio {lib. i.od^ 9. ) li chiama il Taliarco\ Prescriveva il
medesimo U leggi del convito e la manieM di^ becere y'e ordi^
Ce^i, e riponi dal tuo capo tolta La corona sul suo. Sia a te
inferiore, Egual sia pur, si serva in tutto il primo; E seconda
parlando il suo linguaggio. Col Telo d’amistà tessere inganno
È vìa sicura e frequentata , pure Non è senza delitto. 11 Talìarco
Ancor che troppo generoso appresti I moltiplici vini e le vivande;
£ benché creda di dover più assai Veder di quel che fu ordinato,
certa Avrai nel ber da noi legge e misura. Onde la mente e il piè
si serbin atti A’ loro ufficj : d’ evitar procura Gli alterni detti
e gV ingiuriosi accenti, £ vìe più ancor se sien dal vin
prodotti; E troppo faeil non indur la mano napa alle Polte
Commensali che ognuno , bevuto il suo bicchiere di pino, proponesse
qualche amena que^ stione . Auguravansi spesso tanti anni quanti
bicchieri di vino bevevano, e spesso ne bevean tanti quante e- ran
le lettere che formapano il nome della Beliamo deW Uomo insigne , a cui
facevano un tale onore . Se molti erano gli anrd augurati , o se molte
erari le leU tere componenti il nome della persona in onore di cui
heveano ; mescepano allora il vino in una tazza assai grande , e
compensavan così i molti bicchieri che apreb’^ ber doputo puotare . Era
poi in uso al termine della mensa il vibrare in aria con le due prime
dita i semi d* una mela fresca : si credepano fortunati in amore
quando toccapan con quelli il soffitto della camera ov*era apparecchiata
la tavola^ e si riputavano infe* ìici quegli amanti , che non li facean
sorgere a queU V altezza, De^moÙi altri giochi ^ che i Romani usa^
vano in queste circostanze, non ne è a noi perve^ nuta che un* oscura
notizia A perigliosa rissa. Al suol trafitto (54) Euritone cadéo, perchè
soverchio Bebbe i vini apprestati. A* dolci scherzi Atta è la mensa
e il vìu: 8*hai bella voce^ Non ricusa cantar ; salta s’ hai molli
E pieghevoli braccia ; e finalmeute S’hai doti onde piacer, piaci. La
vera Ebrietà nuoce ^ può giovar la finta. Balbetti in tronco suon
l’astuta lingua^ Onde di ciò che tu ragioni, o fai Oltra ’l dovere
, il vino sol s'incolpu Augura alla Padrona ed al Marito Una notte
felice ; ma per questo Fa tacito nel core opposto voto^ Tolta
la mensa, allor che i Convitati Saranno per partir, tra lor ti mischia
; ( La turba e il loco ti daran T accesso ) A lei che
fogge t’ avvicina, e il fianco Le premi dolcemente , e il piè col piede
•. Abbia ora il conversar libero campo, E tu lungi , o pudor
rustico, vanne. Che la fortuna e Venere propizj Sono agli
audaci. De’ precetti nostri Or r eloquenza tua non abbisogna; Principia
pur che ben sarai facondo. Imitare il linguaggio dell’ amante Debbi
, e mostrar d’ aver ferito il core; E onde ti presti fede ogni arte
adopra.. Ardua impresa non è 1’esser creduto. {Sii^ ElurUone
è quel Centauro^ che reso caldo dab vino y tentò nelle nozze dì Piritoo
di rapire Ippoda»^ mia : Teseo lo percosse perciò così fortemente , che
fw costretto y.come dice Ovidio nelle Metamorfosi, cu vo^ nàtar V
anima e il vino Mentre Donna non v’ha, che sè non stìmi^ Sia, quanto
imn^agìhar ài può, deforme. Atta a piacer ; e aémprè inver non
epiace. Quante vòlte in^amor chi sol fingendo Incominciò , d’ un
vera amòr fu preda! Siate indulgenti pur, vezzose Donne, «Con
questi menzogner, se voi bramate Che in sincerò si cambi un falso
amore. Con accorte lusinghe ora si tenti Di guadagnar le Belle,
come Tacque Sa penetrar la sottoposta riva. Deh non t’incresca
ora lodar la faccia, Ora i capelli, i lunghi è ì rotondetti Diti,
ed il breve piè. Le più ritrose E le più caste godono alle lodi
Della loro bellezza ; e son pur grate ^T innocenti Vergini i anzi il
primo È la beltà d* ogni lor cura oggetto. Percliè tuttora di
rossor la faccia Tingon Palla c Giunca volgendo iti mente Le frigie
selve ed il fatai giudìzio f (551 L’augel sacro a Gìunon le penne ostenta
(56; Se tu le lodi ; e le nasconde allora Che tacito le miri» Anco
il destriero. Quando contrasta il rapido cammino. (55)
Péllade e Giunone ^vergognandosi d^essere stc^ te da Paride giudicate
.met^ belle di Venere , tentare Tono di ripagare una tate infamia col ^
procurare n questa Dea vincitrice del Pomo tutti que*danni , eh%
sono resi ormai cèlebri' da' Virgilio e da Omero z .... Manet i^ha
Bueat# repo^tuiu' Judicium Faridis spretaeqtte ipjuria
fbrmae. . i^rgiL Eneid. (56) I Paooni ^(hrisi ^li
at^elH di Giunone, pospr che solcpano'essLHinàfe ibìqarroidi fonta
Dea*, Digitized by Google 4» Gode
vedersi il crine adorno , e il collo Accarezzato. Franco pur
prometti, E tutti chiama in testimonio i Numi, Che alle
promesse pedon facilmente Le tenere Donzelle. Su dal Paltò D*un
spergiuro amator Giove si ride, £ comanda che sien per l’aria
spersi I giuramenti dagli eolii venti. Solea per l’onda
stigia a Giuno il falso Giove giurar ; utile è un tale esempio.
Giova de^ Numi resistenza e giova Che noi pur la crediamo ; incenso e
vino Lor su gli antichi focolari offriamo: No, non è ver che
una secura quiete! A letargo simil gli occupi; i Numi Veggon
r opere nostre. Innocua vita Si tragga adunque ; ad altri il suo si
renda; Sii religioso in consesrYar la fede, Stia la frode
lontana, ed abbi ognora Vacua la dostra* dalle stragi. Solo È permesso
ingannar, se siete saggi, Le donne impunemente. Abbi rossore
D’ogni altra frode pur , ma non di questa. Le ingannatrici inganninsi,
che sono La maggior parte di profana stirpe; Cadan ne* lacci
, cbt^ da lor far tesi, l^àrrasi che restasse un di l’Egitto ^
DelFacqua a* campi salntevol privo Per ben nov*anni ; allor che al Re
Busiri Trasio si fece innante , e mostrò come Possa Pira placar di
Giove il sangue D^un ospite; la vittima tù il primo Sarai di Giove,
a lui disse Busiri, Ed ospite darai Pacqua all’
Egitto. Falarìde cosi nell’ infocato Toro arder fè le membra di
Perillo, ( 87 ) E T infelice autore il primo empiéo L’opera
sua. Fu 1’uno e l’altro giusto^ Nè vi puote esser mai legge più
equa Di quella y che a morir l’autor condanna Del tormento
inventato. La tradita Donna si dolga che col proprio esempio
Spergiurando s’ingannan lé spergiuro Meritamente. Utili a te
saranno Le lagrime; con queste anco il diamante Ti ha dato
ammollir. Fa , se lo puoi^ Che di pianto bagnate ella rimiri
Le guancie tue; se il pianto a te non scende, Che non si versa sempre a
grado nostro^ Tu con la mano inumidisci il cìglio. Chi mai
alle dolci parolette i baci Saggio non mischierà ? S’ ella ricusa
Darli, tu li rapisci,In prima forse Combatterà ; di scellerato il
nome Avrai da lei; ma pur ella desia Pugnando che la vinca. Sìa tua
cura, Che da' rapiti baci i tenerelli Labbri non sian offesi,
o non si dolga Che furon duri. Quei che i baci tolse. Se il
resto non procura, è degno invero Di perder ciò che a lui fu dato.
Quanto (87) Perillo fabbricò un Toro di bronzo , e lo dor nò
a Falaride crudelissimo Tiranno de'Grigeati in Si cilia , perchè
collocandolo pieno di rei sopra il fuo* co ) potesse intendere d^ lamenti
simili a' muggiti de'booì. Falaride accettò il dono y e volle che
subito w entrasse Perillo per incominciar da lui il proposto
esperimento» Mancò a far paghi dopo i baci i voti! Ciò non
pador, rusticità s’appella. Benché si chiami forza, è questa
grata Alle donzelle ) che amano sovente Esser forzate a dar quello
che giova. 1 piaceri d’amor, se sian rapiti, Gode la
Donna, e la franchezza ha il premio. Ma quella che poteva esser
forzata. Ed intatta rimase, ancor che in volto Mostri
allegrezza, ha mesto in seno il core. Soffrir violenza Febe e la sorella,
(58) Ma fu grato ad entrambe il rapitore. La donzella
di Sciro ìnsiem congiunta ( 59 ) Con l’emonio Guerrier, favola è
invero Nota , ma degna pur d’esser narrata. Dopo la lite
della valle Idea Per la lodata sua bellezza il premio Già la Diva
avea dato. A Priamo giunta Dall’ opposta regio Deaera la nuova,
E già viveva nell’ iliache mura Come un’argiva sposa. I
Greci”tutti ( 58 ) Castore e Pollice rapirono le due sorelle
Fe- be e ilavra, che Leucippo padre delle medesime aoea date in
spose a Ida e Linceo, (59) Venere per premio del Pomo da lei
ottenuto, promise a Paride Èlena moglie di Menelao ^ e Pa^ rìde la
rapì , e la condusse in Troja sua Patria. Sia- come i TVojani ricusarono
di render Piena Greci ^ che la richiescr più volte, questi intrapresero
contro quelli un formidabU assedio. Tetide adendo inteso , che il
suo figlio Achille sarebbe morto se andava al* la guerra di Troja, per
assicurargli la vita lo man¬ dò in abiti femminili a Licomede Re di
Sciro. Ivi s* innamorò perdutamente di Deidamia Princi* possa
reale, ed ebbe dalla medesima in figlio il ce* Icóre Pirro. Deir
offeso marito avean giurato Di vendicar V oltraggio, e fero allora
D^'un sol uomo il dolor causa comune. Se noi forzava^ le materne
preci. Eterna infamia coprirebbe Achille, Perchè con lunga
veste ascose Tuomo. , Che fai, nipote d^Eaco ? Non sono Atte
a filar le mani tue la lana. Con arte ben diversa ora tu dei
Volger la mente alla palladia gloria. A che questi cestelli ? Il
braccio tuo Deve portar lo scudo; e in quella destra. Per cui un
giorno cadrà Ettore, io veggo Or la conocchia ? Del filato stame I
fusi carchi getta , e Pasta impugna. Un letto sol la Vergine
reale E Achille accolse ; ed ivi ella conobbe Che di femmina avea
solo la gonna. Con la forza fa vìnta ; almen sì crede; Soggiacere
alla forza a lei fu dolce. Quando soverchio s’affrettava Achille,
Che altr’armi avea che la deposta rocca. Spesso gli disse : per pietà t’
arresta. Qual valore or dov’è ? Perchè trattieni Con lusinghiera
supplichevol voce Li’autore,o Deidamia,di tua sconfitta? Di pudico
rossor copre la gota. Se dee la donna far la prima offerta,
lilla Tè grato il soffrirs*altri incomincia. Ah I nella sua beltà troppo
si fida Quel giovine, che aspetta che primiera Ella lo preghi. Deve
sempre 1* uomo Essere il primo ad accostarsi a lei; Ju uom le
sue preci esponga, e le sue r Riceverà cortesemente. Fréga
Che ti voglia accordare il suo possesso; Ella ha piacer d’
esser di ciò pregata. Fa lor palese il tuo desio, che Giove
Supplichevol si fece ognora innanzi AlF antiche Eroine, e non
fanciulla Offrì preghiere , benché grande , a Giove. Ma se t’
accorgi che alle tue preghiere Si fa vie più superba, allora l'opra
Abbandona, ed il piè rivolgi altrove. Molte amano chi fugge ^ ed odian
quello Che troppo le frequenta; impara dunque A non tediarle. Nè
chi prega sempre Dee del delitto palesar la speme, Ma sotto
il manto d’ amistà velato insinui Amor. Con questo mezzo vidi
Deluse rimaner ritrose e fiere Donzelle, e divenir T amico amante.
Non dee il nocchier, che le marine spume Solca soggetto alla solare
sferza, Candido avere il volto , e pur disdice Al cultore de*
campi, chfe rivolge Col vomer curvo , e con pesanti rastri Le dure
zolle , e per te turpe fia Candide aver le membra , che il tuo
crine Cerchi adornare del palladio ulivo. Sia pallido ogni
amante ; è questo il suo Proprio color ; tinto di questo il volto
Sarai creduto infermo. Fra le selve Pallido errò per Lirice Orione
(6o), (6o) Giops, Mercurio , e Nettuno furono henisd* mo
accolti in casa d* Iréo uomo assai povero* Aven¬ do questi domandato
medesimi un figlio , che non dovesse ad alcuna donna la nascita, i tre
Ospiti di- E per ritrosa Najado fu Dafni (6i) Pallido L^almà
discopra il volto Estenuato ; nè a schifo; avrai di pórre Sulla
nitida ^chioma un pìcòiol manto ( 6 a). Le cure ^ il duolo ^ le vegliate
notti. Che origin traggon dà nn Violento amore, I Giovanetti
estenuai! ; non tf incresca Comparire infelice , se tu brami Di far
paghi-ì tuoi voti,'onde ognun dica Che ti rimirà : è (Questi unWeto
amante. Mi dorrò fbrsè , 0 pur' ti farò dk>ttò A usar rarti
pt^rmessé e le vietate? Ah che amicizia è fè^^on^nòmf vani i
Lodar quella , che adori, al tuo ^compagno, E perigliosa imprésa , ché se
crede Alle tue Iodi , gli verrà vaghezza D'entrar nél posto tuo.
L'atto rea prole (63) Non cercò profanai* d-Achillé 11 letto vini
hagnàti^no della ptopHa ofina la pelle del Toro da lui ucciso per Viàrio
loro in cidoy é assicurarono che da mtella nascerebbe un fanciullo: JVé
nacque infatti Orione ^ che fu un ottime Cacciatore. Non si sa chi
sia Lirico da lui : amata Vedansi le note faU te a questo libro dal Ckier
Néiruio.^ (6i) Dafni figlmel di Merèurio rtacque in Sicilia,
ed k VAutore de^virsi buìieeliei. Amando egli una' Ninfa , da cui era
^matà egualmente, ottenne dal Cielo, che divenisse cieco chi di loro
oiolasse il primo la fede giùtata,Immemore Dafni del voto fatto, j*
mnémo rò d^ uha ritrosa Nomade , e divenne cieco. (6a) Q uando i
Romard soffrivano qualche incorno^ do di sai ute , si coprivano il capo
con un piccol maa- to da loro iifè/to Piu li alani. ( 63 )
Patroclo nipote d^Attore € figlio di Mentàpo fu amicissimo
Achille. Non cercò Fedr^ di sedar T amico (64) . Di Teseo Piritoo
;aè in altra guisai [ Pilade la consorto af«(ò à' Oreste , ( 6 S) 3
Che come Fcho Palla ^ od il tuo O Tindaro ,gemeUo amò ia suora^ ( 66
) Ma non sperato rionofvatì spesson J (o r ) Sìmili esempi,
se non spe^ri ancora ; Veder spuntar dal tramarisco i pomi, E
in mezzo al huine ritroTare ,il mele. . > Quello che è turpe :giova >
e ognun ricerca Il piacer proprio > che divien più grato.
Se altrui costa dolor . Do^e, 8 !:intese Scelleraggin piA grande ?
Pel nemico Non debhi .amante: paventar .soltanto, Ma fuggir
dei, se vuoi viver, sicuro,; . Quei che credi fedeli, e siimi amici.
< Il Fratello, il Cognato ,, ed il diletto ; Compagno temi
; questa tufba tutta; , ; Vera ti recherà cagion d^ angoscia.
Già toccavo la meta ; ma diversi. Sono cosi delle Fanciulle^
\i i ^ ^ ’u Che varj mezzi ancora usar si 4enno, (64)
Piritoo e Teseo concepirono V uno per Poltro una stima si f^rànde,
ohe giurarono di non àhhan^\ donarsi giammai , o itifMi si prestarono
vicendevole mente soccorso in tutte U occtìrrettoo^ Pirotop ^
querie tunque frequentasse taaasa di Teseo, limita sèmpre la sua
beneoolenaa per Fedra a* sentimenti d* amìci"\ aia e di stima.Pilade
figliuolo di. Strofa ^ ehbé per Oreste un*amicizia con sincera^
^le.nonjo abbandonò nel- le più pericolose circostanze a rischio di
perder anche la vita. ’ (66) Castore e Polluce figli di
Tindaro amaron la lor sorella Elena con quell* amore, con cui
debbono i fratelli amare le sorelle. Digitized by
Google 49 Per adescarle. Non la stessa
terra Ogni cosa produce ; atta alle viti £ questa ; quella vuol gli
olivi ; e in altra Lussureggian le biade. I nostri affetti Varian
come nel mondo le figure. Piegar si sa chi ha senno ad ogni
umore; E come Proteo , si farà nell’ onde ( 67 ) Sottile ; ed or
sarà leone, ed ora Àlbero 9 ed or cinghiale irsuto. I pesci Altri
si piglieran col dardo, ed altri Con r amo ^ e alcuni ancor saranno
tratti Àir ampie reti con la corda tesa. Nè giova ad ogni età
lo stesso modo; La vecchia cerva scorgerà da lungi Le insidie
. Se s’accorge l’ignorante Che tu sii dotto, e ardito una modesta,
Si porranno in difesa, onde avvien spesso Che quella che di darsi a
un uom d’ onore Ebbe temenza , fra gli amplessi vili Giaccia d’ un
servo . Parte avanza ancora. Parte ebbe fin dell’ opra intrapresa ;
Fermo qui tenga l’ancora il naviglio. Arte ^am. c
(67) Proteo figliuol di Nettuno era un Dio mari-^ no , che si solwa
cangiare in ^alsivoglia forma y e di qui ha origine il proverbio : Proteo
mutabilior. I3ite e ridite lodi al delio Nome: La
desiata preda è alfin caduta In queste reti. A’versi miei ramante
Lieto conceda rigogliosa palma; Al Vale ascreo ed al meonio Omero
(i) Son Dreferito. Tal di Priamo il figlio (a) Con la rapita^ a
Menelao consorte Trionfante spiegò le bianche vele Dair armifera
Amìcla, e tal pur era (i) Il Vate ascreò è Esiodo ^ e ph si è
veduto al» V annotazione 5 del Lib, /. perchè gli venga dato uts
tal nome. Critei de , ad onta della custodia che ne ave¬ va Vargivo
Creonte^ senza divenir moglie d*alcuno^ divenne madre d^un figlio, che
chiamò Meletigene dal jwmt Me]e«^ in vicinanza del quale parton. Si
sa , che essendo Melesigene accieeato , fu sopranno¬ minato Omero, perchè
i Cumani chiamavan con tal nome tutti i ciechi ; ma non si sa se questo
inimita» ìfil Poeta dicasi meonio perchè Meone fosse suo pa» dre ,
o perchè da Meone Re de^Lidj fu poscia adot» tato in suo figlio.
(a) Paride figlio di Priamo rapì Elena moglie di Menelao nella
Città d*Amicla, donde la condusse trionfante in T^oja sua patria Pelope
allox che te vinta traeva (J) Sul carro peregrino, o
Ippodamia: Perchè, o giovin t’afFretti ? in mezzo alPonde
Naviga il tuo naviglio, e lungi è,il poxto Più dt quello ché bramo* A te
non’basta Che tratta t’abbia la fanciulla innanzi Io tuo poeta:
presa fu con l’arte; Con l’arte ancora conservar si debbe.
Non vi bisogna già niìnor virtude Perchè non fu^gan^ritroVatè : è
quella Opra del caso , e questa sol delParte. Siimi propizio , o
Amore , e Citerea; E tu , Er^tp pur V qhe* il ncfme pqrti ' :
D’Àmor , m’assisti» pra a cantar m’accipgo (3) Enomao Re Elìde e^
di Pisa senti coloy, ohe sarebbe eglt-uodid nel ygiorno^ da avesse
presoi in isposa la sua figlia Ippodan^a^ Per allontanare dalla medesima
à molti giovani , che ambivano d'acquistarsi una 5 I belici fttnóiulia in
con^ sorte , gV invitò tutti un giorno a far ^secè il gioco d'una
corsa , col patto che. sarebbe^ irpmancabilmente trucidato chi fosse
rimasto vinto da lui , e che do-^ vesse > chi aveva la fortuna di
vincerlo^ sposare Ip-> podamia. Pelope fu vincitore con Vajnto di
bfirtilo , a cui promise , che. nella prima notte de^ suoi spon¬
sali gli avrebbe in ricompensa accordato }L dolce pos¬ sesso 4dla sposa
novella. Immernorè egli però della data parola, e del segnalato servigio
a lui reso ^ con^ dusse sul carro vincitore in trionfo la bellissima
Ip- podamia , e quando Mirtilo gli richiese Vadempirnento delle sue
lusinghiere promesse , lo gettò barbaramente in .mare. . . .
(4) Da EpMT« , che in greco idioma significa Amo-, re , ha preso il suo
nome la Musa Erato. Fu essa, madre di Tamita ^ che cantò il primo di
tutti i versi^ amorosi , ed a lei si attribuisce da alcuni greci
ùom-^ mentatòri V invenzion della Éiusica c del BaUf^ Cose stupende
: con qual arte Amore Tener si possa io vi dirò, bench’ abbia In
Vasto mondo ei di vagar diletto. Egli è leggiero , © doppio p^rta
al tergo * OrdÌB‘'*di'jpènbo , Onde' riniporgli legge È difiScfr
impresa. Àvea'aMa fuga DelP ospito Mibos ckiusa Ogni via, (5)
Ma ntì'àmdace sentier trovò con Tali. Poiché Dedalo chiuse il
Minotauro, Giustissimo Minos, disse, abbia £ne Ora'il’mio esilio ,
ed il paterno suolo 11 ceder mio riceva. Io non potei. Perseguitato
ogUór da iniqui fati, Vivore in patria, almen morir vi possa.
Se a me ricusi un tal favor , che sono Carico d*anni ^ lo concedi
al figlio, E se al figlio .noL vuoi ^ lo dona al padre.
Queste e molt^ altre ancor cose dicea, • Ma a lui Minos hón
permettea il ritorno. Di sua eVentura cèrto», a se medesmo Allor
Dedalo disse, hai tu materia Onde mostrar Pingegno; e terra e mare
È in poter di Minos : e mare e terra Or ci vieta la foga ; a me
rimane Il cammino del ciel ; questo si tenti* — l^tdato ,
come già si è accennato , fabbricò irs Creta il celebre Labirinto, in cui
fu racchiuso il Sfinoiaiiro. A^endògli' Minos vietato d* uscir da
quel^ ' io' f non trovò altro mezzo per ritornare alla patria
y se non se di fabbricar dell* ali congiungendo insieme varie penne
d* aòcelii , ed accingersi in tal guisa a ' 'Volar per il cielo in
compagnia d'Icaro suo figlio. Questi per altro innalzò troppo il suo
volo, e preci^ pkò miseramente in quel mare , che prese da lui ii nome
Icario. Digitized by Google 54
Sommo Giove *, perdona ^ questa impresa: DelP Empireo stellato non
aspiro Già le sedi a toccar ; sol questa strada Onde fuggir dal mio
Signor mi resta* Se Io stìgio sentiero a me si mostri,
10 r onde stigie varcherò • Debh’ ora I dritti rinnovar di mia
natura. I mali aguzzan 1* intelletto. E quando Si avrebbe
dato fà che un uom potesse Premer le vie del cielo.? In ordìn vario
Dispon le penne , che per V aria sono 11 remo degli augelli ; e
unisce insieme Con del ritorto Un 1’ opera lieve. Con cera al
foco sciolta insieme accoppia Le parti estreme ; e già della nuov’
arte Era venuta la fatica a fine; Ma intanto che trattava e
penne e cera. Rideva il figlio , ignaro che quell* armi Sarian la
sua difesa al tergo unite. Con tal naviglio, a lai diceva il
Padre, Si può alla Patria far ritorno ; in questa Guisa
fuggir Minos, che ogni altra chiude Fuor che T aerea via « Tq che lo
pupi, Con questa ch’io inventai arte novella^ Fendi gli aerei spazj
; ma la vista Della Vergin tegea, e del compagno (6) (6)
Calisto i Licaone Ra d* Arcadia ^ è soprannominata Tegea, da una
Città di tal nome soggetta alV impero del padre della medesima. DaU
V illecito commercio , che ebbe essa con Giope , diede alla luce un figlio
chiamato Arcade , e fu da Giu¬ none per ciò tra^ormata in Orsa ad oggetto
di ven* dicarst deW infedele suo sposo ^ il quale la collocò in
oielo fra le stelle col nome , che ancor oggi conserta, d’Orsa
Maggiore. Di Boote Orion cinto di spada --— Tu dei fuggir •
Con V apprestate penne Mi segui ; io ti precedo, e sia tua cara
Batter^ V isteasa via ; da rae guidato Incolume sarai, li’aeree
strade Se calcherem troppo vicini al Sole, Al suo caler si
scioglierà la oera; Se al mar propinqui batterem le pennei
Da’ vapori del mar saran bagnate. Spiega il tuo voi fra ^1 Sole e
il mare; i venti Pur anco temi, o figlio ; e all’ aure in preda Dà
le tue vele allor che sian propizie. Mentre in tal modo V istruisce ^ ài
figlio Il lavoro dispone, e mostra come Muover lo debba : in guisa
tal la madre La pennuta ammaestra inferma prole. L’àJe poi di sua
man per se costrutte Accomoda al suo tergo, e nel novello Cammin
timido libra, in aria il - corpo.. Allor che al volo si accingeva, al
figlfo Diò molti baci, e le paterne gnauce Furon di calde lagrime
bagnate. Sorgea sul piano un colle assai minore Del monte, e
quivi V uno e l’altro corpo Si diede in preda a perigliosa fuga.
Mentre le penne sne Dedalo move. Quelle osserva del figlio, e ognor
sostiene In aria il corso • Icaro si diletta Del novello sentiero,
e ornai deposto Orione figlio Ireo ( annot, 6o del Lib, I. )
Untò di dare un disonesto assalto alla casta Diana ; ma essa lo
fece uccìdere da uno scorpione , e poi mossa a pietà lo trasmutò presso a
Boote in una costellazione fatta a guisa di spada Ogni timor ^ con
arte audace vola Più ibrtemente. Un che insidiava a’ pesci Con la
tremula canna, alzato il guardo, Li vide in ariane abbandonò P
impresa. Già da sinistra avean passato Samo, E Nasso e
Paro e Delio al clario Dio Sommamente gradita ^ ed alla destra Si
lasciar dietro Labioto, e Calìnna Per selve ombrosa, e Stampaglia di
guadi Feraci in pesci cinta, allor che il figlio Temerario con
troppo incauto ardire Spiegò senza ìL suo duce in alto il volo*
S’allentano i legami ; al Sol vicina Liquefassi la cera , e i
.tenui venti Male sostengon le commosse braccia. Dal sommo
cielo spaventato il guardo Rivolse al mare, e dal timor già sorta
Si offro al suo sguardo tenebrosa notte. Si liquefò la cera, e i
nudi braco! Dibatte ; trema ; e ìnvan ricerca il modo Di
sostenersi *« Cadde , e o padre , o padre Gridò cadendo, via son tratto ,
e T onda Cerulea chiuse al suo parlare il varco. Ma Pinfeiice
Padre.(ah non più padre!) Icaro , grida , Icaro , dove sei?
Sotto qual asse voli ? Icaro grida, £ nuotanti sul mar mira
le penne* Copre P ossa la terra , è prende il mare Il nome
suo • Minos già non poteo D’ un uoni frenarle penne ,ed io
m’accingo Un Nume alato a trattener? S* inganna Cfii fa ricorso
all’ arti emonie, e appresta Dalla tenera fronte del cavallo Lo
svelto a forzalppomane. Non Verbe ( 7 ) Pon di Medéa far viv*?re
l’amore; Non 1 Tharsfejj^ncàntesmi . Se potesse Una tal'arte
ptolàligàrto , avria ' Medea Giasbn', Cfrcfe teénto Ulisse . ( 8
^ Nè i pallidi apprestati* éill%*dónzelle F'iTtri* Valséro {
aU’alrne Son nòcivi, ( 9 ) Ed inspirai) farot .'Ogni delitto
Vada put lungi ; se attti essere amato, Amabile ti- ttióstraf I a: ciò^
nTort giova * Solo’ le^ menibtk àlve'r’by^^ e là-faècia. ^
Sii pur Nireó tfaro^ ^11’ aiitibd^ Omero ; ( io) ' ^. t L ; >( 7
) Q^^àevano gli an tichi , e fra questi ancora Pii- nio ea
Aristotile , che si potesse còncìliar l*amore per mezzo éAl^lppòinsLne,
cioè di qtàel pézzetté rotondo di carrie .nera ^ che han\ sulla , fronte
iì cavalli nati di fres^qp, Jfa Mars^ figlio^^efia/venefica Circe^^
t^aj- ser l a lo ro orig ine i M ar si. Abitarono questi popoli m
lidlia non fontani ,àa Uòma ^e Jfùrorio~reputati , èc- celleràPneWarte
dellc^ ' niagìq: “ * ' (8) ,iÌÌe«/èa \e Circe fdronp dii^ ihsiAni
Ma^he ^ je insieme due a^passioriaté 'mài. cohisposte dmànii\
poicHè 'fiorì pótérono có'loro magici incanti trattenere Ùiasoné\d Utisse
i che amavano tèneramente, ‘ ’ (^) t Filtri preparati dalle Maghe ,
eran composti di fichi salvatici ^ éP uòva e di penne di civetta,
di * sangue e di. pòlfnone di ranocchie , e d*os5Ì di cani e 'di
serpenti'Sventrati. Lèggasi ài Libro quinto V Ode 'd*Orazio cprìlró
Canidia. * ^ (io) Nireo], nafo dd Aglajd e dal Re Cecrope,
andò alt*assedio di Trojq ; e vien da Omero nel Li-* hro secondo
dell*Iliade lodato per la sua sorprenden^ te bellezza. Ercole amò
sommamente Ila figliuol di ‘Teodamahte , c lo condusse con se, quando
navigò alla volta di Coléo. MetltP era iri viaggio lo mandò un
giórno ad attinger Vacq.ua dal fiume Ascanio nel’» la Misià ma essendo
ivi disgraziatarkente caduto^ han finto i poeti , che fosse rapito dalle
Nufadi Dea de*fiumu O il tenerello un giorno Ila rapito Dalle
callide Najadì : se brami Conservarti Y amor della toA donna,
E non vederti abbandonato , aggiogni Deir alma i preg) alla beltà
del corpo. È la beltade un ben caduco e frale, Che con
gli anni decresce, e a un fisso tempo Fugge mai seiupre • Le violette^ e
i gigij Non fioriscono ognor;Ia spina , ^ cui Colta la rosa sìa ,
rigida viena*,^ ^ ' Vago garzon , i tuoi capelli un giorno Verranno
bianchi, e il corpo tuo le rughe Ti solcheranno . Formati ed aggiungi
Alla beltade un animo che ^uri: Sol ei riman fino agli estremi
roghi* Ni sia rultima ina cura con Farti Ingenuo Padornarlo ^
e di due lingua Renderlo dotto . Non fu bello Dlisso,(ii)
(il) Colisse t figlia , come credono alcuni, delVO* etano e dì
TeHde, accolse cortesemente il naufrago Ulisse nell* ìsola Ogigia , ov*
essa regnala. Dimorò questi per sette anni con la Ninfa suddetta , da
cui ebbe varj figli , e poi fu costretto a dividersi da lei per
comando de*Numi , quantunque non lasciasse elìa alcun mezzo intentato per
ritenerlo sempre appresso di se. Reso Re dei Traci detto odrisio perchè
cornane dava alla Traqia nazione degli Odrini, e sitonio^ perchè
anticamente la Tracia ^si chiamava Sithon , fu ucciso da Ulisse e da
Diomede, mentre andava con un esercito in soccorso di Troja. D* ordine
de*suoi Troiani si portò Dolone ad osservar gli andamenti
dell*armata de* Greci ; ma incontratosi con Diomede td Ulisse , che pure
osservavano la condotta del cam^ po Trojano , svelò a*meiesimi , dopo
d*aver preso Vim^ punita y tutte le più segrete determinazioni de*
suoi concittadini. Volendo egli poi per premio i cavalli emonj
d*Achille , fu ba^aramente trucidato da Ulio^ se e Diomede uccisori di
Reso Ma facondo ; c per lui ferito H petto Portar* r equoree Dive. Oh
quante volte Di sua partenza si lagnò Calisso^ E dicea che
non atte erano a* remi L’onde del mar! Oh quante volte udire Bramò
di Troja i casi , ed ei sovente Narrò lo stesso con diversi modi I
Stavan sul lido insiem , quando la bella Calisso ehiese la dolente
istoria Del Duce odrisio; ed ei con tenue verga ( Mentre a caso la
verga in man teqea ) Finge Popra richiesta in sull’arena. Questa»
le^disse, è Troja (e fe’sul lido I muri) . È questo il Simoe,e queste
fingi Che« sieno le mie tende . Il campo osserva (E intanto lo
disegna) che col sangue Sì sparse di Dolon, quando gli emonj
Cavalli scaltro d’ involar procura. Fur del sìtenio Reso ivi le tende;
In questa uotte da i deitrier rapiti ^ Fui strascinato . Dipingea
più cose, Ma improvvisa del mar onda furiosa Via trasse Troja
, e col suo Duce ancora . Le trinciere di Reso. Allor la Diva,
Vedi quai nomi s’inghiottiron Ponde^ £ vuoi che al tuo cammiò
sieno propizie? Ardirai dunque di fissar tua speme In fallace
fij^ura? e più del corpo Altro tu non avrai solido e degno?
L’accorta compiacenza a noi concilia Gl’ animi, ma l’asprezza e le
severe Parole contro noi muovon lo sdegno. Si ha in edio lo
sparvier , perchè tra V armi Traggo sua jriU, e i lupi che assalire Hanno
in costume il timoroso gregge. Mite è la rondinella , e innocua
vive Dall’insidie dell’uomo ; e l’alte torri Abita là colomba a lei
gradite. Vadali lungi le liti e i detti amari; Con
soavi parole amor si nutre. Stia la discordia tra marito e
moglie; Si faggan questi, e credano a vicenda Di difender lor
dritti • Ciò conviene Alle tnògli/che ognor funesta dote Recan di
lìti . Il dolce suono ascolti Degli • accenti bramati ognor V
amica; Legge non havvi per gli amanti ; in loro^ Ìj amore è legge •
Parolette grate Reca , e dolce lusinga à lei 1’ orecchio. Onde alla
vista tua lieta si faccia. Non io d^ Amor maestro a’ ricohì
parlo. Che chi pnote donar > dell’ arte mia Non abbisogna • Chi
quando a lui piace, Prendi j può dir, non manca mai d’ingegno.
Cedere a Ini dobbiam, che più gradito Sarà dell’opra nostra. Il vate io
sono J>e’ poveri, dhe ognor povero amai. Dar doni non
poteva, e diei parole. Cauto ognor sìa povero amante , e
tenga La lìngua a freno, e soffra quel che un ricco Non soifrirebbe
. l^el ponsier mìo torna, Che irato aia di delia mia Bella feci Al
crine oltraggio . Un tale sdegno ah quanti Giorni mi fe’ passar pallidi e
tristi I Noi credo, e noi compresi , che la vesta Io le stracciassi
allor, ma lo diss’ ella, £ comprarne altra a me fu d’ uopo. O
voij Che avete ingegno, del Maestro vostro Digitized by
Google 6i Fuggite il fallo, e né temete i
danni. J8ia la guerra co’ Parti , e ognor la pace Con l’Amica
diletta'. Usa gli scherzi, E tutto quel che favorisce Amore.
Se a te che l’ami, docil non si mostra Qual vorresti e cortese, il
suo rigore So^ri costante , e diverrà benigna. La forza
usando, il curvo ramo frangi, Che con dolcezza addirizzar potevi.
Varcasi 1’ acqua cón pazienza, e malo Vìnconsi i fiumi, se pigliar tu
tenti Contrarie Tonde rapitrici k nuoto.' I numidi leon , le
fiere tigri Pan le lusinghe mansuete e miti; Ed al rustico
aratro la cervice / A poco a poco sottopone iJ toro.
Dell'arcade Atalanta e chi più fiera.(ia) Mostrossi mài? Eppur quella
crudele Soggiacque anch’essa al mèrito d* un uomo, Narra la fama ,
Melamon piangesse, (i3) Sotto un arbor giacente all’ombra, spesso
Suoi tristi casi e la crudel Fanciulla. Spesso* portò le ingannatrici
reti Sul vinto collo, e con spietato ferro (la) L’arcade
Atalanta, figlia di Jasio o d’Aban^ te , fu un.’eccellente cacciatrice ,e
si fe* compagna di Diana per consertare illibato il candore della
sun verginità, Finta essa p<ù dalla fedele e lunga servitù
prestatale da Meleagro o da Melanione , si abbando^ nò finalmente in
braccio ni medesimo , ed ebbe in fi^ glio il celebre Partenopeo,
' (i3) Sono tra loro cod diverse le memorie .a- noi lasciate dagli
antichi scrittori riguardo a Melanione 0 aid Atalanta , che è impossibile
il dar de’ medesimi «Hit distìnta notizia Uccise spesso i barbari
cinghiali. L’arco teso d’Ileo soffri piagato, Ma
conoscea più ancor 1’ arco d’ Amore. Non vo’che armato le menalie
selve Tu salga, e che le reti al collo porti; Hò già
t’impongo il petto alle vibrate Saette espor • Dolci più assai
saranno, Se udir mi vuoi, dell’ arte mia le leggi. A
lei che è ripugnante , ognora cedi; E vincitore partirai
cedendo. Eseguisci fedel ciò eh’ ella impone: Biasma
Quello che biasima, ed approva Quel che le piace , e il suo parlar
seconda. Di rider ti ricordo al riso suo. Di piangere al suo
pianto , e i moti ancora A suo piacer del vento tuo componi.
Se giocale nella man P eburneo dado ( 14 ) Agita , tu ancor
l’agita, e lo getta (14) Oltre il gioco de* dadi era presso i
Romani in uso quello dclVAlìosso detto da loro Talut, che con^
sistema in piccoli quadrati d*osso j ne* quattro lati de* quali erano
notati separatamente i numeri uno, tre, quattro, sette. Doleva pagar
senza lucr^o una mone^ ta chi avesse gettato l* uno, che chiamatasi Ganis
o Òanicula. Guadagnata sei monete e ciò che ateta perduto nel
gettare il Cane chi scoprita la parte op* posta all* uno ^ cioè il sette
che ateta il nome di * Yenns o Gons,* ne guadagnata tre chi gettata
il Seniofper cui intendetasi il tre, e quattro chi ates^ se
rappresentato U Ghio, che esprimeva il numero quattro. Si rileva
da**latini Scrittori che fu VAliosso giocato anche ditersamente ; ma
basta per la chiara intelligenza di questi versi U sapere che erano i
Cani dannosi ^ mentre esprimevano l* ano ^per cui si dote^ va senza
lucro pagare una moneta. Il Gioco , ohe rasfvmbra a guerra , è , come
facilmente ri QQtnprew* dp ^ qugllo degli Scacchi, Digitized
by Google In modo cV«lIa vinca. L’Àliosso Se trae,
farai in maniera cbe la pena Non soffra d’ ^sser vinta, e tuoi
saranno Sempre i dannosi cani ; e s’ ella' pone Opera a gioco « che
rassembri a guerra, Fa cbo perisca dal nemico vinto Il tno
soldato. Sulle verghe steso Tieni r ombrello , e, nella densa folla
Per dove idee passare , il varco l’apri; Vicino al letto non t’incresca
porre Lo scanno, e fai piede dilioato togli E riponi la scarpa
.iDei sovente. Benché ti prenda orror , della Padrona
L’algente,mano riscaldare al seno. Non creder turpe, henchè a te
rassembri. Con destra ingenna sostener lo specchio, Se a lei
ciò piacerà. Chi ’l fiero sdegna (i5) Otaneb.della matrigna in domar
mostri. Che ora è nel Ciel , ohe primo egli sostenne. Si crede ,
tra Ife joniche Fanciulle Che tenesse il cestello, e che filasse
Rnstiche lane . Si l’Eroe tirinzio Servi all’impero d'una Bella ; or
dnnqne Dubiti di soffrir ciò eh’ei sofferse? Se ti
comanda esser presente al Foro -Previeni 1’ ora del comando , e
sempre ^eoU ' mnst valorosamente ( Annoi. 17. del Lib. I. )
tutu s mostriyche contro di lui suscitò la tua rnatngna Giunone, e
sostenne sulle sue spai- ad Atlante affa- incarico.
Innamoratosi egli poi dH)n- '‘iff reale della Lidia, vestì abiti
femi- mh, e m qualità d’ancella iella medesima filò vil¬
mente l»inne con quella man valorosa, con cui per le rmrabilt sue gesta
s’ era colmato di gloria. ^ Digitized by Google
Ne partirai più tardi • Se ^t* impoiàfe Di gire in altro loco’,
ogni altra cura Lascia da parte , corri ^ uè la turba ''
LMutrapreso cammìti trattenga , e còma ‘ Servo, sé vuol, tu Taccompagna a
Casa^- Tolte le mense , e^già sorta^ la liOtte; > * Se
fosse in villa,*e tf dicesse: vr<eni> ^ ^ Col piè premi la via , se
manca il eocebiò, Che Amor odia gl’inerti . Il btiitasoosò Tempo nè
la Canicola assetàtai ^ ' n / Nè per scaduta nòve il sentìev biénco -
^ p’ ostacolò ti aien ^ Simile a gòfei/ra * ^ E r amore , da cui
vadano lungi ' ‘ ^ '• I codardi . Nò , sotéo tali itìsegné* II
timid’ uòmo guerreggiar tiòu' debbe* La notte, il verno, disastrose
strade, ' ’ Dolor cocenti, e ogni altr’aspra fatica Racchiudono
que’mòlli ttccampaihetttli* Di pioggik dalle untole tìiscioitu'^ *
‘ ‘ * Ben spesso intrisa avrai la -veste,-è‘Spesso Gelato
giacerai sul nudo suolo." ^ Dicesi che dì Cinto il'Nume' nu
giorno (i 6) Pascesse le ierée vacche d’ Admeto, £
s’ascondesse in umil capanna.' A chi non converrà ciò che coriTenné
‘ Apollo, che dicesi i/-Nuine- 4 ì'Cinto fper^hè ( Ànrvot. 1^9. del
Lib, /. ) nacqueove giace 4 in tal monte y sentì il pin, intenso, dolere
^ quanda Giove fulminò Esculapio di , lui figlio , perchè faceva
rivivere i morti con V ajuto della -Medicina. Per veti^ dicenrA pertanto
in qualche maniera d* una tale ingiur- ria , egli uccise i. Ciclopi y che
fabbricavano le saette a quel Nume supremo , il quale lo spogliò per ques
to della divinità, e lo costrinse a pascolar le vacithe 4 * Admeto
Re de* Ferei in te staglia^ A Febo ? O ta, che in lungo amor
^impegni, Il fasto lascia • Se un cammiii seeuro £ facil ti si
nega, e se alla porta Ritrovi impedimento, allor t’insinua Dal
precipizio d’ùn aperto tetto, O da ascoso sentier d’ alta
finestra. Lieta ne fia, quando del tuo periglio Intenda la
cagion ; di certo amore Sarà per la tua Bella un grato pegno.
Spesso potevi dalla tua Diletta Star lontanerò Leandro, ma varcavi ( L’
onda del roar, perchè le fosse noto L’ amante core • Guadagnar
l’ancelle Non abbi a vile, e in special modo quella. Che sarà
favorita , e ancora i servi. Non temer d’ avvilirti : ognun
saluta Col proprio nome, e alle lor destre umili, Ambizioso ,
d'unir cerca la tua; Ma al servo che ti prega ( è lieve
spesa) Porgi piccoli doni, ed in quel giorno Pure air ancella, in
cui restò ingannata Leandro amò Con tal forza Ero Sacerdotessa di venere
, che spesse volte varcò VEllesponto per visi^ tarla. Essa accendeva Una
fiaccola sopra una torre, affinchè potesse il suo Amante camminar piu
sicura^ mente , e quando intese , che era il medesimo misera^ mente
annegato , si diede in preda aW ultima dispe-* razione , e slanciossi
intrepida nel mare, {ìÒ) Ai q di Luglio celebravasi in Roma
splendi--^ damente una festa, a cui concorrevano le Servé‘ ve^
stile a Matrone romane , in memoria delV util servii gio che avevano esse
in tal giorno prestato alla Pu^ tria. Ecco ciò che ne dice il Macrohio,
Post Urbe in captam , cum aedatus esset gallicus motus, res vero
publica esset ad tenue reducta, Finìtimi opportuni- Digitized by
Google 66 Da veste maritai gallica
truppa, E che pagò d’ un folle ardire il fio. Ti fida a
me ; fa tua la plebe, e sempre Sia fra (juesta V ascierò , e quel che
giace Sulla porta del Talamo . Io non voglio Che ricchi doni
appresti alla Padrona; Piccioli sian, ma convenienti e accorti.
Mentre è ferace il campo , e mentre i rami Piegan pel peso di mature
frutta. Porti fanciullo in un cestel gli agresti Doni , e dir
ben potrai che da una villa Suburbana ti vengano, quantunque
tatem invadendi romani nominis aucupati praeferant sibi Postlmmium
Livium, Fideoatiam Dictatorem , qui, mandatis ad Senatum misis,
postalayit , nt si yelleut reliquias suae ciyitatis manere , matres
fa* Hiilias sibi et yirgines dederentur . Cumque Patres esseat in
ancipiti deliberatione suspensi, ancilla no¬ mine Phìlotib teu/ Tutela ,
poilicita est se cum cae- teris ancillis sub nomine Dominarum ad hostes
ita- ram : habituqae matrnm familiat et yirginum sumpto, hostibas
cum prosequeatium lacrjmis ad iidem do¬ lorii iogestae sunt. Quae cum a
Livio in castris di- stributae faissent, viros plurimo vino proyocarunt
, diem fbstum apud se esse simulantes. Quibus sopo- ratis , ex
arbore caprifico, quae castris erat proxima, signum Romania dederunt, qni
oum repentina incur¬ sione snperassent ; memor beneficii Senatus,
omnet ancillas manu jùssit emitti, dotemque eis ex publico fecit,
et ornatum quo tunc erant usae, gestare cou- cesfit, diemque ìpsum Nonas
Gaprotinas nuncupa- yit ab illa Caprifico , ex qua signum yictoriae
coe- perunt, sacrificiumque statuit annua solemnitate ce<-
lebrandum, cui lac, quod ex Caprifico manat, propter memoriam facti
praecedentis adhibetur. Questa è la fedele esposizione del fatto, d cui
non pare che si uniformi il Poeta Tu gli abbi compri nella laera via. (
19 ) Rechi pur Tu ve » e le aastagne care Un giorno ad Amafilli, e
che ora a vile Parehè dono legger avrebbe anch* esso, Co’t^rdi pure
e con ghirlanda mostra Che memor vivi della tna padrona. Si
compra turpemente con tai mezzi D’orbo vecchio l’affetto, e la
speranza Di godere i suoi beni. Ahìperan qnelli Che Così vii
disegno a donar move. E che ! t’insegnerò teneri versi Io
diluviar Fa me lo credi, i carmi Non ton molto graditi ; e benché
Iodi Ottengano talor, maggior lusinga Han gli splendidi doni : Un
ricco piace Ancor che nato in barbara contrada. Questa è per
vero dir l’età dell’oro^ Giacché con Voto compransi gli onori,
Criacchè con V oro piegatisi le Belle. Se tu medesmo con le Mute,
Omero, Venga privo di doni, ab ! tu seaeciato Sarai di casa. Di
fanciulle dotte ^ Havvi turba rarissima , ed un’altra.
Che sé reputa tal benché ignorante, L’une e l’altre s’encomino
co’versi^ Che ottengan dal lettor lodo pel suono Facile e
lusinghiero \ a queste e a quelle Tenue e da aVersi a vii sembrerà
dono In loro onore vigilato carme. ^ Usa in maniera ché V
amica ognora (19) VendéQasim Ronia ogni torta di frutti e
d*al^ tri generi nella Via sacra, che acquistotti un tal nó¬ me ,
perchè furono ivi conclusi con gran^ sagrifizf i patti fra Romolo e
Tazior 68 A far ti preghi quel che util ti
sembra, E che far già volevi. Se promessa Abbi ad alcun de’
Cuoi' la li ber Cade, (ao) Fa pur elisegli la chiegga alla padrona.
Se ta rimetti al servo il suo delitto,^ Se le catene sue dure
disciogU, ; Te ne sia debitrice. ^ A lei la •gloria>
A tediatile venga. Sul:tuo eore Mostra ohe elFabbia un prepotènte
impèro^ Ma illesi serba ognora i dritti tuoi. Tu che nutrì
desio della tua cara ' ^ ^ Consfetvarti V amor , fà oh’ ella
pensi Che tu getonito sei di sua Heltade.* Se le sue menàbra
in vtiria veste avvolga, Le sii largo (U lodi, e se le doe ' .
Cinge, dirai che accrescono i suoi Veazi. Se poi s* adorna con aurata
veste, * Dille che più splendente èli’è dell’ oro. Se
prende la pelUcela , e tu T approva; * Se la tomita lieve , allora,
esclama ' Che, desta incendj, e con ièmmes^a voce Pregala che
schivar proeuii il. freddo. Sia il orine in duo diviso, oppur da
oaldo Ferro ritorta, tu dirai : mi piace. Di lèi, se.danai,
ammirerai le,braccia, Di lei, ^ canta, 1* armoniosa voce,. •
' E a lei dimostra con dolèntii note^ Perchè fpresto diè
fine, il tuo scontento. Loda gli abbmcciamenti ,:e in suon piètoso
E querulo ie mostra con KJUéiI foraa .. (ao) Presso i Homani eruno
cortamente i servi in una condizione sì miserache (^iputavansi
fortuna^- a , quando i padroni per un effetto di^somma cUmon^n
accordavano loro la liberty, ^ -, Digitized by Google
6p D’insolita jilaowrfe: il. cor t’inonda. Gon questi-
un4incoc che-|}iù. violenta Foss’ ella di Medusa ^ e indite: e giusta
(ai) Dìvetrài.co», l’ ansante,* Sia .tua cura - Di non sembrane
-iagantiatore ; e il volto Kon distrugga i tnoi> detti. Ascosa Térte
Giova j e svelata la vergogna apporta, E Ii^ tfe. 00» ragiOp j
toglie per. sempre. Spesso Sotba l’ÌAu)tjnA0tì,( iiti quella bella
Parte dall’sanitOf,-^ cui vosaeggia Priva Del purpureo, lioór ; rieolnta
» quando Il freddo,«cura la?f»reiuej ed era il «aldo La soioglie,).
Pìncostante. aere d cagione Di languore, alle-metubra,* Elhi^pur
viva Sana, masO'.inat giaceja-in, letto in ferma. Soffrendo. ..drd
tmaligqogciol V Infinstoi La tua pìetade:;ecP AQt^ctW> palese
Sia alloca .alla fanqiullaj^ fi getta il aenae Di ciO .cbe mieter, debbi,
a larga falce.' Nè del liingaauo mal poja',ti, prenda^ , E
faccia» le tue man cid che permette. Te rimiri piangente, ed i .tuoi baci
: Non r.inore«qa;S<^l-Ìr,;'flon arse labbia , Beva il tàO
;piantp,. 4 Ì» .ciel voti farai. Ma ognor,.palesi,,e di narmr: ti
.piaccia Be» spesso,fausti' sogni..:Àn| sua'magione Guida
la-ivacohiarella , che con ?ìolfo iaa) (ai) ]ffedasa figlia di Forci^'ed
ufl'a delle tre Gorgoni, incontrò-lo tdogn» di Minerva , perché à prestò
all’ impudiche iooglie, di Nettuno • nel Tempio della medesima* Questa
Dea le trasformò^ pertanto i capelli in serpenti, e fece si che fosse
convertito in -sasso chiunque ardiva di riguardarla. (ìa)
ponducivàn gli antichi le vecchiarelle nello àuse d^gV frifermi ,
affinché con le lor preghiere di Purifichi la stanza e insieme il letto,
E con tremola man T ova le rechi. Di tua premura avrà cosi 1*
amica Kon dubbj segni, e con tai mezzi molti Far dalle Belle
istituiti eredi. Ma deir inferma per soverchia cura Deh non
volerti procacciar lo/sdegno; Àbbian tuoi dolci uffioj il lor
confinej Non le vietare il cibo ; il tuo rivale, • E non la
destra tua* pòrga la tazaa Colma de* succhi amari. Or che n^ll* alto
^ Del mar solca la nave, usar non dei Lo stesso vento, con cui già
dal lido Le vele hai sciolto. Mentre Amor va errando Novello ancor,
con Taso forza acquisti; Stabil verrà, se lo saprai ' nutrire.
Ebbe vitel le tue carezze il toro, Che or è de'tuoi timori
oggetto, e Talbore, Sotto cui posi , un di fu tenue ^etga. Nasce
povero d'acque il fittnré , e forza Acquista nel suo corso, e dà Ogni
parte Gli vien tributo di novello umore. S’accostumi con te, che
nulla puote Più di tal cosuetudiue giovarti. Mentre
l’adeschi, a te grave* non sia Di soffrire ogni tedio • Abbia te sempre
Dinanzi al guardò ; ognor tuoi détti ascólti; La notte e il di le pinga
il volto tuo* Ma quando poi sicura avrai fiducia Di poter
esser ricercato, allora Scacciassero Sa quelle, gli spettri.
Epicuro deve soffrire i rimproveri degli Stoici, e VOratore Eschino quei
di Demostene , perchè avevano le lor madri Ulk simile impiego
che riputavasi vile* Digitized by Google 7 ^
Vanne pur lungi, che la cura sua Sarai benché lontan . Prendi
riposo; Ciò che s’afBda al campo riposato Bende ei ben
generoso e l’arsa terra Bey e l’acqua del ciel. Finché pxesente (a 3
) Fa a Filli Demofonte, il di lei seno Senti mediocre amor , ma in
vasto incendio Arse allor che le vele ci diede^’ venti. Mentre
vivea lontan l’astuto UÌìsse (a 4 ) Penelope soffriva cura mordaeCr
Tu ti dolesti pur, Laodamla, (aS) Lontan Protesilao. Brieve
tardanza £ mai sempre sicara. Allevia il tempo 11 dolor
dell’assenza ^ e dal pensiero > e dà loco a nuovo amor 1’
assente* Mentre tu , Menelao, stavi lontano (26), (a 3 )
Fillidt, figlia di lÀcurgo He di 'Tracia , rice* Vè cortesemente nella
Reggia e nel letto il naufrago Demofoonte figlw di Teseo. Quandi egli
partì per % Città d* Atene ., colera chiamato dalla cupidigia di
regnare , le diede parola di ritornarsene a lei dentro un mese . Aspettò
Fillide lungo tempo il suo caro sposo, e poi afflitta e disperata per la
tardanza di lui , si tolse da se stessa crudelmente la vita.
È noto il verace affetto che aoea Penelope pet Ulisse suo spesole
però si può facilmente compren¬ dere quanto fosse vivo il suo dolore per
la lunga di¬ mora che fece fi medesimo alV assedio di Troja.
^uS^ Laodamia amo sì ardentemente Protesilao detto in latino
Phyllacides daFilaco.4uo avo, che fu sem¬ pre occupata dal più vivo
dolore mentre era esso al- V assedio di Troja , e fece far del medesimo
dopo la sua morte , una statua di cera , che ogni notte pone- vasi
nel letto quando vi andava a dormire. Menelao trovavasi in Vreta ,
ove .l* aveano ri¬ chiamato i suoi affari , quando Paride di lui
confi- mcpte gli rapì la bellissima E.lena pia consorte Sulle piume
giacer sole non volle Siena, e nella notte al caldo seno l)eir
ospite fu striata. E chi mai puote Di ciò nutriremo Menelao,
stupore? Solo partivi, e nel medesmo tetto Era la moglie e T
ospite. In custodia T,ii folle le colombe al. falco fidi, Ed
al montano lupo il pieno ovile? Siena non ha colpa, e non
commise L’adultero delitto ; ei fece quello Che tu faresti, e che
farebbe ognuno. Ad esserti iiifedel la donna sfórzi^.j
Se il tempo e il loco a lei concedi. Quale Oonsiglio ella usò
mai se non il tuo? Che dovea far ? Il suo marito è lungi,
Ed un amabil ospite presente, E giacer sola teme in vacuo
letto. Ciò a Menelao era noto. Io dal delitto Siena assolvo ;
usar volle di quella Libertà, che il marito a lei concesse Cortese
c umano. Non così feroce Flavo cinghiai si mostra in mezzo all’ira
Contro i rabidi cani, allorché il dente Fulmineo rota , nè così
lionessa Che a’cari figli suoi porga le mamme, Nè da piè
ignaro vipera calcata ; Coni’ àrde e mostra 1 ’ agitata mente
Donna che la rivai trovi nel letto Del suo consorte : e corre , e dà di
piglio Al ferrò e al foco, e ogni decor deposto, Rassembrà una
Baccante. La spietata (27) Medea nel sangue vendicò de’figlj
^- fay) Vedaii V annotaz. 89 del Lib Del marito il misfatto ^ ed i
violati Dritti di sposa. Àltr^empia genitrice, (28) Mirala in
rondinella trasformata. Or di sangue macchiato il petto
porta. Tali delitti sciolgono V amore Meglio composto e più
costante ; e cauto Gli dee r uomo fuggir, gli dee temere. Nè
ad una sola donna io ti condanno; Portin migliore augurio i sommi Dei
! Così rigida legge appena puote Seguir sposa novella.
Abbiano pure Loco gli scherzi, ma celar ti piaccia Sotto furto
modesto il fallo tuo. Da cui già non voler cercar la gloria.
Altra non mai conosca i doni tuoi; Nè prefigger tu dei 1 * ora
medesma Agli amori furtivi, e in un sol loco Condur le belle, onde
non le sorprenda La donna tua ne’ noti nascohdiglj ; E quante
volte scrìvi , i fogli osserva; Che molte leggeran più assai di
quello Che tu loro scrivesti. Amante offesa Move bene a ragion
Tarmi, e sovente Come a lei desti, a te di duol dà causa. Mentre il
figlio d'Atréo fu d’ una sola (29) Ov. Arte d^am. d (a 3 )
Progne figlia di Pandìone, e moglie di Teseo ^ fu dagli Dei cangiata in
Rondine, perchè vendicane dosi deW ingiuria recata da Teseo a Filomena di
lei sorella , uccise Iti suo figlio ^e lo apprestò al Padre
barbaramente per cibo, (39) Agamennone rapì Criseide figlia di
Crise cerdote d*Apollo , il quale in abiti sacerdotali si portò
inutilmente dal medesimo per ricuperarla j tolse Bri* seide ai Achille ;
e condusse poi in Grecia Cassandra Contentò e pago, quella visse
casta. Ma per i vìej del marito poi Divenne infame. Inteso
avèa che Crise, Le fasce in capo e il lauro in man portando,
Ottener non potè 1* amata figlia. Inteso avea il tuo ratto, il tuo
rossore, O Briseide, e per quai turpi dimore Fosse la guerra
prolungata. Queste Cose la fama a lei narrava. Vide Con gli occhi
prhprj poi la figlia stessa Di Priamo : vincitor fosti ad un tempo
E preda, o Agamennon , della tua preda. Nel cor , nel letto ricevè ella
poscia Il figlio di Tieste, e vendicossi Così de’falli del marito
infido. Gli amori tuoi tener cerca nascosti. Ma se fian
noti e manifesti, sempre Però li nega , nè ti mostra allora Nè più
sommesso o più giocondo : reo Ti fa ria ciò scoprir. Novelle prove
Le dà deir amor tuo. Queste il sostegno Son della pace. La tua prima
amante Fa che di ciò non abbia unqua contezza. Havvi chi la nociva
erba consiglia Santoreggia di prender; ma ciò stimò Atro veleno.
Mischian altri il pepe Nel seme dell’ortica , e nell’ annoso Vino
tritano il callido pilatro. , figlia di Priamo , la qual fu a luì
concassa nella di* Vision della preda. Clitennestra sua moglie, e
figlia di Tindaro non potè reggere a tanta infedeltà , e /?«- rò
accolse nel letto Egisto figlio^ di Tieste , da cui ' { Annotaz. 88 del
I*) uccidere il suo marito. La Dea che sul ombroso Érice monte
( 3 o) Ave il suo tempio, no , soffrir non puote Che siau forzati i
suoi piacer. Si prenda Pure il candido Bulbo che a noi manda La
Città di Megara, e la salace Erba che cresce ne’giardini. L’ova,
L’imetto mel, del pin le acute noci Si prendan pur. Perchè alla
medie’ arte, Erato , or tu ti volgi f II cocchio nostro Debbe più
da vicin toccar la meta. Tu che celavi per consiglio mio Poc*
anzi i tuoi delitti , or altra strada Batti, e per mio consiglio i furti
scopri. Nè di volubil già merto la taccia: Non col medesmo
vento i passeggieri Porta la curva nave ; ora si corre Col
tracioBorea, ed or con Euro, e spesso( 31 ) Dal Zeffiro si fan goiihe le
vele, Talor da Noto. Osserva come in cocchio L’auriga ora le
brìglie allenta , ed ora Frena con l’arte i rapidi cavalli.
Compiacenza servii le rende ingrate, E amor senza rivale
illanguidisce. Se la fortuna sia propizia, Talme Divengono
lascive , e faci! cosa ( 3 o) Venere aveva un magnifico Tempio in Sicilia
sul monte Erice , donde fu detta firicina. , Sotto il nome di Bulbo
iniendonsi tutte^ le radici rotonde come agl) e cipolle , che i Romani
facevan venire dalla Città di Megara fabbricata da Alcatoo figlio
di Pelope. {jòi) Il vento Borea f spirando a Settentrione ,
vien qià dette treicio perchè la Tracia è più settentrional della
Grecia y e dell* Italia, Euro spira da Levante [ Zeffiro da ponente, e
Noto da Mezzogiorno, Non è serbare in mezzo allieti eventi
IL cor tranquillo. Come lieve foco, Che perduto abbia a gradi il
suo vigore, Ascpndesi , e nell’ ultime faville La cenere
biancheggiale se v’unisci Zolfo , Testinta fiamma manifesta,
E a splender torna il consueto lume; Così ove pigra e torpida
si giaccia L’alma, destar cop forti e lusinghieri Stimoli è d’uopo
in essa allor Tamore. Fa che di te paventi : ognor riscalda
L’intiepidito core, e impallidisca Al, solo udir che tu infedel le sia.
Oh quattro volte e quante io non so dire Felice quei, di cui si
lagna offesa La sua fanciulla, e che giugnendo annunzio D’un tal
delitto alle sue triste orecchie Cade, e il color le manca e la
favellai Ah foss’io quello, a cui furente straccia Il crine ! ah
foss’ io quello a cui con l’unghie Sgraffia le gote, che or piangente
mira Or con bieco ciglio, e senza cui Vorria , ma non può vivere !
Se chièdi Il tempo , onde di te la lasci offesa Lagnarsi, io ti
dirò : sia questo breve. Perchè lo sdegno suo forza maggiore Con
dimora soverchia non acquisti. Con le tue braccia il bianco collo
cingi^ E piangente nel tuo seno l’accogli; Asciuga co* tuoi baci il
. pianto suo, E i piaceri di Venere concedi A lei che piange.
Già la pace è fatta; Con questo mezzo sol cessa lo sdegne. Se
feroce divenga, e a te rassembri Veramente nemica » allor le chiedi
Un dolce amplesso , e la vedrai placata. Ivi déposte Varmi è la
concordia^ £d in qael loco » a me lo credi , nacque La tenera
amistade. Le colombe. Che già fecero guerra , i rostri
insieme Dolcemente congiungono ; di quelle 11 mormorio son voci, e
son carezze. Fu il mondo in prima una confusa mole; Non
ordine regnò, non vi fu legge ; £ stelle e terra e mar solo una
faccia Mostravan ; sulla terra il ciel fu posto E fu dal mar la
terra circondata, £ diviso cessò l’inane caos. Presero
ad abitar le fiere allora Entro le selve ; a star gli augelli la
aria; £ s’ascosero i pesci entro dell* onde. L’uomo errò allor
ne^aoUtarj campi. Ma rozao 9 inerte corpo, e senza genio*
T'u il bosco la sua casa ; il cibo l* erba; Lie frondi il letto ; e
già per lungo tempo Visser fra loro sconosciuti. Dicesi, Che
le feroci loro alme piegasse La dolce voluttà. Lo steiso loco
Abitarono insiem Tuoibo e la donna; Non da maestro furon fatti
dotti Di ciò che dovean far ; Venere loia La dolce opra compì
senz’arte alcuna. Trova da amar Paugel dolce compagna, E in
mezzo all’acqae pur con chi s’accoppj Non manca al pesce. Il maschio
ainato segue La cerva, ed il serpente a’dolci inviti. Della femmina
cede. Insiem congiunta La cagna al can s’annoda. Il suo montone Soffre
lieta Tagnella; la giovenca Gialiva è col torello, e la stizzosa
Capra 1* immondo becco non disdegna. Parenti le cavalle i maschj
segnono Per lungo spazio , e varcan fino i fiumi Che li tengon
divisi. A che più tardi ? T’affretta dunque , e alla sdegnata porgi
Il bramato sollievo ; questo calma L’ atroce suo dolore, e questo
vince I succhi d* Esculapio • Il fallo tuo Dei con ciò cancellar ,
tornarle in grazia. Mentr’ io cantava queste cose, Apollo apparve »
e mosse dell’ aurata lira Col pollice le corde • In man tenea L’
alloro, di cui cinta avea la chioma; ^Queir ammirando vate allor mi
disse: O de’ lascivi amor maestro , guida 1 tuoi
scolari alfine al tempio mio; (3a) Ivi sta incisa la famosa legge,
Che conoscer se stesso a ognuno impone. Amar solo potrà
prudentemente Quegli che se medesmo appien conosce, E alle
sne forze sa adattar Tìmprese. Procuri che la Bella ognor Io guardi
Quel cui Natura diè leggiadra faccia. Si mostri spesso con le
spalle ìgnude Chi candide ha le membra ; parli pure Quei che lo fa
soavemente, e canti, E beva quel che a bevere e a cantare Con
arte apprese, ma non mai interrompa (3a) Alludtd al Tempia
consacrato in Delfo ad Apollo ove era scritta a caratteri à* oro qaest^
aurea legge: nosco te ipiam L’altrui discorw P eloquente, e in
mezzo Al ragionar non reciti importuno I suoi carmi il Poeta
. In questa guisa Febo i^egnomnii, e. voi di Febo adesso Seguit^e i
precetti. Ah no ! non ponno Mancar di fe gli oracoli d’ Apollo.
Or son chiamato a più'vicini oggetti. Chi sagace amerà ; chi
la nostr’ arte In uso saprà porre f avrà vittoria. Non sempre
i campì rendon con usura Le biade seminate, e a dubbia n^ve , Non
sempre fausto è il vento. Ah! sono brevi I piaceri d’ amor , lunghe
le pene. Onde Amante a soffrire il cor disponga: Quante in
Ato son lepri , e quante in Ibla Pascolan api, quante olive
accoglie II verd' arbor di Palla, • quante il lido Del mat
conchiglie ; tanti son gli affanni Che soffrenti in amor , tanti gli
strali Jlal felo intrisi che ci passan V alma. A te diran che
usci fuora di casa Quando con gli occhi tuoi forse la vedi. Ma
creder dei che uscì, che vedi il faUo. Mella notte promessa a te la
porta Forse chiusa sarà ; soffri, e le membra Riposa e adagia sull’immonda
terra. Mendace ancella forse in tuon superbo Dirà; perchè le nostre
porte assedjf Cortese e supplichevole stropiccia Il limitar della
crudel Fanciulla, ^ E al capo tolte ivi le rose appendi.
Quando vorrà, t'appressa, e quando il vieta Tu vanne lungi. Uomo non dee
sincero Di sua presenza far soffrir la noja. Digitized by
Google 8o Non sempre con ragion ti potrà
Jirer A me fuggir costui non è permesso* Non creder turpe di
soffrir ingiurie, Nè d* esser dalla tua Bella battuto,
Nè sul tenero piè d’imprimer baci. Ma a che mi fermo nelle
tenui cosef Or subietto maggior m’agita l’alma. Io canterò
prodigj ; il volgo attonito Ascolti i detti miei, mi sia propizio.
A difficile impresa ora m’accingo. Che nel difficil sol
glòria si merca. Dall’arte una si chiede ardua fatica.
Soffri il rivai pazientemente ; teco Starà vittoria , e n’otterrai
trionfo. Non già un mortai, male pelasghe querce(33) Ti
dieron tai precetti . Ah i iio, non puote Dir r artè mia di ciò cosa maggiore.
Farà un cenno amoroso al tuo rivale, E tu lo soffri ;
sctiverà , e t’ astieni Dal toccar le sue carte ; e venga e tomi
Senza le tue doglianze ove le piace* Con legittima moglie usi il
marito Quest’indulgenza pure, alior che notte Le tenebre distende,
e il sonno regna. Non io, Io debbo confessar, non sono In
quest’arte perfetto. E che far deggiof Io de’ precetti miei minor mi
trovo. Io soffrirò che, me presente, un segno Si faccia alla
mia Bella, e il freno all’ira Io potrò por ? Ah mi ricordo ancora
^3) Fabbricarono i Pelasgi un Tempio dedicalo a Giovò , in
vicinanza del quale era situato un bosco di querce , da cui davano le
colomba risposta umana Che il suo marito nn di le diede un bacio, Ed io
del bacio a lei feci querela; Abbonda il nostro amor di
crudeltade. Non una volta sol mi fu nocivo Un vizio tal ;
piti dotto invero è quello Per cui, lieto il marito, in casa
ingresso Hanno altri amanti. Ma saria più grato L’esser di questo
ignari. Ah lascia dunque D’amore i furti ascosi , onde non fugga
Dal vinto labro, confessando i fallì, Lungi il pudor. Deh
risparmiate, o amanti. Di sorprender colpevoli le amate.
Schetzino pur , ma almeno a se medesme Perauadan che il fer’ solo
in parole. Sorprese, in esse pel rivai maggiore Si fa r affetto ; e
dove egual la sorte Fa di due, 1* uno e Paltro son costanti La
causa in sostener del danno loro. Favola iu tutto il elei nota si
narra: Venere e Marte dagP inganni presi Pur di Vulcan. Ferito il
petto avea Marte per Vener da un apaore insano, E divenuto di
guerriero amante. Nè rustica o difficile mostroàsi (Non
v’è di questa Diva altra jpiù molle) Venere al suppliéhevole
Gradivo (34). Oh quante voltè la lasciva risé ^
da (34) Marte si Marna Gradivo da apa/vav, ehe si^
grufiea in greco linguaggio vtbraziorfe d'AVta. Aven^ do Giooo
preeijntaio Vulcano in Lenno 'per 1 la defar-^ mità del suo corpo, si
tuppè questo misero Diojin tal caduta una gamba ^ e così divenendo zoppo
^ di^ canne ancorst mSgiortncnU deforme. Digitized by
Google Sa ^ Di Valcano pei piedi e per le mani
Nere e incallite pel lavoro e il foco. Contraffaceva pur di Marte in
faccia Sempre piena dì grazie il suo marito^ Ma solean ben
celare i primi amplessi, E coprian col pudore il fallo loro;
Ma il Sol che tutto vede ( e chi ingannare 11 Sol può maif ) fece a
Vulcan palesi L’ opre della Consorte • Ah quai ne porgi Funesti e
perigliosi, o Sole, esetuplit Perchè del tuo tacere a lei non
chiedi Un dono , eh* avrebb* ella il tuo silenzio Potuto compensare
in mille modi. Vulcan sopra e d’intorno adatta al letto Un* invisìbil
rete , e finge a Lenno Di far viaggio : a’ noti abbracciamenti Tornan
gli amanti, e nudi entrambe sono Ne^ lacci avvinti. Quegli i sonimi
Dei Convoca, e fanno L prìgiohier di loro Vago spettacol. Potè
appena il pianto Venere allora trattener sul ciglio; Non alla
loro nudità potere Oppor la mano, e non coprir la faccia*
Uno de’ numi allor ridendo disse : O fortissimo Marte, in me
que’ lacci Deh trasferisci pur^ se ti son gravi. Nettuno , appena
per le tue preghiere Ebbero i prigionier le membra sciolte. Chela
Dea in Pafo, e Marte andonne in tracia. £cco,o Vulcano, il tuo profitto:
in prima Celavano il Ipr fallo ; or senza freno Lo commetton,
fuggito ogni pudore. Sovente, o stolto , confessar dovrai Che tu
dj^rasd da pazzo, e già ( la fama Digitized by Google
83 Karra.) dell’ira tua ti aei pentito* Quest’
io vietai. La 6glìa dionea (35) Or vieta a voi di tender quelP
insidie Ch’ ella stessa soffrì. Nè voi cercate Por ne’ lacci il
rivai, nò legger quello Che vergato ha^la bella in cifre arcane.
Faccian questo (se lor piace) i mariti Che legittimi rese e T onda e il
foco. (36) Io'di nuovo, raffermo: in queste carte Nulla vietato
dalle leggi chiudo» Nè a pudica Matrona i nostri scherzi
Recano ingiuria. Chi a’profani i riti Osò di Cerere svelare, e i sacri (
87 ) Misteri nati nella tracia Sanio f Non nel' silenzio per
coprir gli arcani Gran; virtude abbisogna è colpa grave Però
dir'qnfello che (tacer si dehbe^ t Ben a. ragion da Tantalo «loquace
(38) Venere , sepondo alcuni , eifbe in madre Dio^ ne 9 e però si
chiama la Figlia dionea. (36) Solevano i Romani nelle nozze solenni
offerii re alla Sposa V acqua ed il foco \ 'perchè pensavano
che si genesUts^ il tutto dall* umore -e dal icàhre ^ ed anzi lavatiri^
Inacqua f stessa i piei^ Sposa ed alla Sposo^ ' , I (87) I
Sagrifiz) di Cerere t)ea delle biade, ehe furono , secondò Dtodoro , '
inventati Heltà' Samotrd» eia , si celelfravanà dagli aw^ìd con tal \
segretezza g che acqmdurono il nome di mister (38) Tqntalo ,
figlio della Ninfa Piote , palesò agli uomini le' supreme,
determinazioni, che si manìfesta^^ reno scambievolmente gli Dei in un
Convito, cui fu ammesso e^i*pare.da^Giolve.,peTiitaleiempH-^ tà
joacpiatO riell^ infermo , iOfl^ à cofitidftaeqMate ,cfudar^ io da una
barbara fape, e^ chè è ,eireondatò dàìVacqua e da diversi ' phmi,
ékà fuggono àgnor shp'suòl Idìlli i^qmndo *viol*pré*a'^
arsene* Digitized by Google 64 .
Fuggono i pomi; o all*assetato labfo L'acqua mai sempre. Citerea
comanda In special modo di tener celate Le sacre cerimonie. Io
v’ammonisco Che alcun garrulo'a quelle non s’accosti* Se sepolti
non restano fra’cesti I mister] di Venere, se i bronzi Per furiose
percosse non risuonano, Usi abbiam noi pih moderati, e in
mòdo* Che si voglion però tenére ascosi. / Quando le vesti Venere
depone, La nudità con la sinistra copre. Nella pubblica
via spesso 1 * ugnella. Si unisce al suo compagno, e la
fanciulla^ Da tal oggetto altrove il guardo volgew Atto è il talamo
chiuso a’furti nostri E a non mirar ciò che la veste > ascóndo*
i Non le tenebre noi, ma nube opacUi ì; Cerchiamo, e i luoghi ove
1’ aperta luce - Minor risplenda. Fin d’allor ché il tetto Non
difendea dal Sol, non dalla pioggia, £ dava il cibo e in un la quercia
albergò. Gli uomini non gustar’ palesemente. I piaceri di'
Venfet ma negli antri ^ ' • f i ne^bosqhi; cosi dell’onestade
* i preudea cura quella ro^sza gente** \ Ora gli atti si
celebraa notturni, , £ nulla più si compra a caro prezzo Che
di poter’ parlar: or le donzellò Ovniique cercherai solo onde dica Qiinsla
ancora fo. nostra, ed onde .posniA ^ Mòsttktla ò' dito , e &r ohe sia
deb vol^ , ' Dc^^b li pòssèsso^tuòVfev;òIa ^ r.«r. poco
«iwiihe ^ini «dolSP* aU>Ì , Òose che nègherebbono
accadute* £ di favori vantatisi non veri ; E se invàn
di toccar, cercare il corpo. Cercano àlmen d’offenderne P onore,
Che le accusi la fama ancor che caste. Chiudi, o custode rigido ,
le porte ; Guarda la tua fanciulla, e cento spranghe
A’durissimi stipiti ora opponi. Cosa havvi di sicuro in faccia a
questi Adulteri di nome, che creduti Esser desian ciò che tentare
invano ? Parchi in parlar noi siam de’veri ainori^ E fedelmente
ognor tenghìam celati Col velo deP mistero 1 furti nostri.
Deh non voler rimproverar giammai Di nati^ra i difetti alle
donzelle. Che fù dissinìularli utile à molti. ^ Perseo
che al piè portò le gemìn’ ali (3g) , Tlon del color d* Andromedà
lagnossi. Comparve a tutti Andromaca maggiore D’ uim giusta statura
, ed Ettor solo (3g) iXèrcurió adatfò *U idi Ud ambedue i piedi
di J^érseo^ iluo amiiéo y e fi^ió di Danae e di Giope, de qu§$iix
AndrovaeduslegaiOKyad uno scoglio per ra'deillcNeTcìdi,^e,\c]^pe, che
dovea^esser dioorata da Ceto mastro marin^, ,perchè Cassìope, madre
della medesima ebèè la vanagloria di dire ^ che la sua fi-* glia
vinceva > ir^ bellezza le stesse Nereidi, Mosso Perseo a pietà, della'
sventurata donzella , uccise il mostro col jmrgli. davanti agli cicchi la
testa di Me^ dusa f è dopo d^aveHa in tal guisa saLveta da un tanto
pericolo y V ottenne in isposa , he mai le riìf fàpciÒ[ suo fosco colori,
essendo ella nata in Etiopia, " Andromaca è figlia di Elione .
Re di Tebe e mo* glià di Ettore j il qual chiamava medìo^e la sua
statura quantunque fosse veramente sproporziqnatq. Digitized by
Google 86 Mediocre la dicea. Quel che or ti
lembra Darò a soffrir, deh soffri; e verrà uà giorno Che lieve
impresa ti sarà il soffrire^ Mentre ogni pena raddolcisce il tempo.
Nuoyo arboscel che in verde scorza cresce^ Cade, se vento placido lo scote
; Ma indorato dal tempo arbor diviene. Resiste a* fieri Noti
^ e alfin s’ adorna , Degl* innestati fratti. Un giorno spio Paò la
bruttezza cancellar del corpo,^ , £ sempre il tempo fa sembrar
minore Ogni difetto. L* inesperte nari Mal da principio pon soffrir
1* odore Della pelle del toro, ma dalTuso Dome non più risentono
mólestia. ^ I vizj ricoprir con dolci nomi Fa di mestier :
bruna chiamar si debbo Quella che piùehe pece ha negro il sangue»
Se ha gli occhi loschi, a Vener l!as 8 omiglia^^ E se bianchi, a Minerva.
Sia 9 Ì scarna ( 40 ) , Che appena in piedi sostener si possa.
Gracile la dirai. Nana rassembri, E tu svelta la chiama, e piena
quellf .,. Che è turgida oltremodo g, e asconder tenta. Col bene
non lontano il vizio ognora. Gli anni mai non cercar , nè sotto
quale \ Consol sia nata : al rigido Censore . Tai cure
lascierai. Maggior riguardo . Usa per quelle che passate il
fiore Hanno di giovinezze » e i più bei giorni, (4.0) Non si
sa paacepire corno Ooidio chiami loschi gli occhi di Venere , quando essa
fu lodata da Pari^ de. Dubitano alcuni pertanto y che nelF originale
la^, ' ripe si 4tiba leggere leu invece di peU»
Digitized by Google E cui incomincia a incanutir la
chioma* .Utile è questa o più matura etade, 0 giovani ; e
aarà ferace in biade Questo campo » ed arar però si debbe. Mentre
gli anni il permettono e le forze, Soffrire la fatica. Ah già la
curva Vecchiezza con piè tacito s’accosta! O il mar co’ remi
solchisi, o la terra Col vomere, o s^impugnin Tarmi fiere, O
si usi il fianco, T opra , e la forza Con le fanciulle^è questa una
milizia, E con ciò pur s’ accumulan ricchezze. S’
artoge a ciò che la prudenza in loro Maggior sempre delT opere
risiede, E l’esperienza sol può far maestro. San
compensare dell’ etade i danni Con la mondezza, e in opra e studio ed
arto Pongon per ricoprir la tarda etade. Come più brami
accarezzarti sanno In mille guise ; in più diversi modi Pittor non
puote colorir le tele. Non irritata voluttà per loro Si
gode , e danno e gustano il piacere; 10 se non è scambievole Tho in
odio, E però fuggo de’garzon P amore. Odio il furor di
quella che il concede. Perchè a darlo è forzata, e pensa solo All’
ntil proprio. A me non è gradito 11 piacer che mi dan sol per
dovere; Da questo io violentier le donne assolvo. Godo
ascoltar le voci che il diletto Mi palesin di loro, e di frenarmi
Mi preghino ora, ed or perchè mi affretti. Godo di rimirai languidi gU
dicchi . Della mìa bella , che mi dica : è assai. Questi favor
natura non concede Air inesperta gìoventCì ; si godono Quando il
settimo lustro ornai si compie. Chi soffre sete, il nuovo mosto
beva; Di vecchio vin ricolmo a me s’ appresti Vaso che sotto
i Consoli vetusti Sia fabbricato. Al sol resiste vecchio Il
platano, ed offesi i nudi piedi Sono da’nuovi prati; e chi potria
Ad Elena preporre Ermione? Altea (Era forse miglior della sua madre ?
Se tu t’ accosti a una noi^, giovin bella, £ sii costante,
avrai degna mercede. Già riceve i dae.amanti il conscio
lètto; Fuof delle chiuse porte ora rimanti, O Musa ; senaa te
sapran ben essi Trovar di che occuparsi, chè lor porge Amore i
mezzi. Il valoroso Ettorre (4a) Di cui fu il brando a Troja util
cotanto, Giacque pur con Andromaca, ed Achille Con la lirnessia
giovine rapita, Allorché dal nemico affaticato Prese ristoro
sulle molli piume. Da quelle man di frigio sangue tinte
Ricevevi , o‘Brhcide , le carezze, E perciò forse à te più assai
gradito Fu alla vittfice destra unir tue meuibra. (4 A
Ermione è figlia della famosa Elena moglie di Menelao, (4a)
Achille # aseedìafa la Città di Lirnesso , uc¬ cise barbaramente Minete
marito della bella Briseide^ che si prese egli stesso in isposa, e che
dal noma 4 M(k iiMk Pàtria soprannominata iÀtuwia* Di Venéfe
i piaceri » a me lo credi , Non SI deniio affrettar; ma a lunghi
torsi Berli. La donnà , se vedrai diletto Che abbia d’èsser toccata
, a te non freni Pudore allora inopportuno. Gli occhi Suoi
scintillar d*'un tremulo splendore Mirerai , come dalle liquìd’ onde
^ Riflette il Sole i suoi splendidi raggia. ^ Udrai nn lamento e uh
dolce mormorio^ Gemiti grati , ed amòtose note. Quando thtte
le Vele avrai spiegate, Tu abbandonar non dei la tua diletta.
Nè preceder ti debbe ella nel corso. Correte insieme alla
prescritta meta. Che il piacer vostro diverrà perfetto.
Se giacerete a un tempo stesso vinti. Queste leggi seguir dovete
quando A voi concessi siano 02 ] tranquilli, Nè ad iin
furtivo oprar timor v* astringa. Quando Tindugio è mal sicuro,
allora Tutti forzar si denno i remi, e il fianco Premere del cavai
d’acuto sprone. L’opra è condotta al fin. Giovani grati, A me
la palma concedete , e il crine Odoroso cìngetemi di mirto.
Non presso i Greci Podalirio tanto Fu per la medie’ arte in pregio
, Achille Per il valore, e Nestor per pi'udenza; Non fu Calcante
così esperto e grande Nel conoscer le viscere, nè Ajaco Nel
maneggio dell’armi , e Automedonte Nel condur cocchj ; compio sono
espCito E grande nell’amor. Me celebrate, Uomini tutti ; a me si
dian le lodi; Nel mondo intero il nome mio ti canti. L*
armi io vi porsi come già Vulcano Le diede a Achille. Or con tal doni
voi Vincete pur, com’egli vinse un giorno; Ma chi col brando mio
potò le fiere Amazzoni atterrar, sopra le vinte Spoglie scriva:
Nason ci fa Maestro. Le tenere fanciulle a m^ le preci Ecco che
porgono, onde lor cortese Sia de’ precetti miei. Ah t sì, sarete
Cura primiera de* futuri carmi porsi contro lo guerriere donne A’
Greci 1’ armi ; or dare a te le deggìo^ Pentesilea, e alle Amazzoni
seguaci.(i) Ite alla guerra uguali, e vincan quelle Cui son
propizi Venere e il Fanciullo, Che in tutto il mondo ha di volar
diletto. Giusto non era il combatter nude Contro gli armati ; e
vincerle per voi. Uomini , turpe mi sembrava. Alcuno Dirà fra molti
: perchè aggiunger cerchi 11 veleno alle serpi ? e perchè in preda
Lasci alle lupe rabide 1’ ovile? Di poche il fallo non vogliate in
tutte Diffonder ; pe’ suoi merti ogni Donzella Considerar si dee .
Se Menelao Ha di dolersi d’ Elena cagione^ (a) (i) Pentesilea
Regina delle Amazzoni andò contro i Greci in soccorso d^ Trojani ,e fu
dopo varie glo^ riose azioni uccisa da Achille. Sotto il nome di
Greci P intendono però- dal Poeta quegli uomini , che ^ cingono a
conquistare le donne qui figurate sotto il nome di Amazzoni.
(n) Vedasi V Annotaz, 5 q del Lib. I. e l*Annotaz,
ueuSdelldb.If. Ved. Vannot. 38 del Lib. /. eVannot. ao del Lib.
II. £ se di Clitennestra i rei costami SoQ gravi ad Agamennon
; se d’Ecleo (3) Il figlio scese co* cavalli vivi.
Dalla spietata Enfile^ tradito, Vivo egli stesso a
Stige^havvi pur anco Penelope che pia serbossi e fida (4) Al
suo marito, benché senza lei Due lustri errasse , e per due lustri
ancora Passasse i giorni suoi sempre alla guerra. Protesilao rimira
e la consorte, (5) Che , come narran , pria degli anni suoi
Vide Testremo fatele scese a Dite Ombra indivisa del marito . Mira
La Sposa pegasea dall*empia sorte (6) (S) Anfiarao figlio di EcUo
ed eccellente indovino ^ ascose in un luogo segreto per non esser
costretto a portarsi alla guerra di Tebe, in cui sapeva di do-* ver
certamente morire* Eri file sua moglie allettata da un aureo monile
promessole, da Polinice, insegnò a questo ov'egli sfava, celato* 4 n 4 à
pertanto Anfiarao forzatamente alla guerra^ ma appena giunse in Te¬
be , gli si spalancò sotto i piedi la terra , e rimase in quella
sepolto. (4) Penelope è V esempio deWamor con fugale* Si
conservò essa sempre fedele al suo sposo Ulisse , ben* che vivesse egli
lontano da lei per lunghissimo spa* zio di tempo , e benché fosse ella
continuamente as¬ sediata da mille fervidi amanti. (5)
Protesilao andò aneW egli all*assedio di Troja, e fu il primo tra* Greci
, che vi perdesse la vitapoi* che Ettore lo ferì mortalmente , nientre
scendeva dal* la sua nave. Desolata Laodàmia sua moglie da una tale
sventura , ottenne con le sue lagrime da* Numi di poter veder V ombra del
suo amato consorte , e neWabbracciarla morì* (6) Soffriva
Admeto una malattia coà grave , che secondo la risposta dell* oracolo ^
era necessario per salvargli la vita^ che un uomo o una donmft^
morisse Admeto liberare , onde famoso Rese il suo nome . Evadne a
Capaneo ( 7 ) Disse : m* accogli ; il cener nostro insieme Si
confonda ; e slanciossi in mezzo al rogo; È la Virtude d’abito e di nome
( 8 ) Femina, nè stupore è, se propizia Si mostra e favorisce
al sesso suo. La nostr’arte però queste non chiede Alme
sublimi 9 e con minori vele Naviga il legno mio • Per me soltanto
S’imparano a trattar amor lascivi. Io insegnerò in qual modo amar
si debba La donna, che non face ed arco scote Sempre crudeli ; agli
uomini quest’armi Nuoccìon più parcamente 9 io ben lo vedo: Gli
uomini più spesso ingannano di quello^ Che ingannin noi le tenere
fanciulle; E poche troverai , se cerchi , xee Di perfido
delitto. Il traditore (9) Giason Medea lasciò già madre 9 e in
braccio Gittossi ad altra sposa. Oh quante volte Per te 9 Teseo 9
Arianna abbandonata (io) per lui4 Alceste sua moglie^ che dicesi
sposa pagasea dalla città di Pagasa in Tessaglia , volle essa
stessa liberar gen^osamente il caro suo spoeo, ed incontrò con
intrepidezza la morte. Quando Eoadne intese che era stato ucciso a/« la
guerra di Tebe il caro suo sposo Capaneo ^ conce» pi nell*animo un dolor
sì fiero ^ che corse valorosor mente a morire sul rogo dell* estinto
consorte. (8) Adoravano i Romani la Dea Virtù vestita in
abiti femminili. ^9) Annotaz. 89 del Lih. /• (io)
Arianna fu da Teseo abbandamata {Annoi. So. del lÀb» I. ) nell*isola di
Nasso j e però avrà te» muto gli Augelli marini provenienti da quella
pcffte di mare, in cui viaggiava il suo perfido amante la solitaria t
sconosciuta riva Temè gli auge! marini ! E perchè Filli (ii) Calcò
per nove volte il sentier stesso. Cerca, e perchè, la chioma lor
deposta, Piansero Filli le dolenti selve. L’Ospite, che
concetto ha di pietoso. Porse la cauta e il ferro alla tua morte, ( 12
) Misera Elisa. E che I narrar vi deggio Delle vostre sventure io
la sorgente? Voi non sapeste amar ; mancò in voi l’arte,
Mentre con l’arte solo amor si eterna. Sariano ignare ancor, ma
Cìterea Vuol che per versi miei sien fatte dotte. Mentr’ella stessa
innanzi al mio cospetto Si fermò, e disse: di qual fallo mai Si
fecer ree le misere fanciulle. Che inermi si abbandonano agli
armati? Tu con gemini libri bai resi questi Nell’arte esperti ; or
co’ precetti tuoi Tu devi ancora ammaestrar le donne. SteSicoro ohe
in pria cantò i delitti (i3) Impaziente FUlide per la lontananza del
suo Demofoonte eorse per nooe volte al lido , dà cui do^ vetfa egli
passare nel ritorno ; e alfine disperata cd afflitta per la tardanza di
lui ( Annoi, a 3 del Lib, li.) si tolse da se stessa crudelmente la vita.
Le fabbricarono i suoi parenti un sepolcro , in vicinanza di cui
nacquer degli alberi , che in un certo tempo , secondo quello che han
scritto i poeti , deposte le lor foglie , piangevano la morte della
medesima. (la) Enea , che vien soprannominato il Pio, di^
sprezzando Vamore , che è il nome proprio di Didone, fu causa
cVella si precipitasse sulle fiamme ohe ardevano la eittà e la reggia di
Cartagine. (i 3 ) Stesicoro siciliano è un poeta lirico ^ che
doto-' Sto ne* suoi versi Elena detta tersnoea dal castello ìa D*
Elena, poi con più felice lira Disse le lodi sue. Se V indol bene
Io tua conobbi, no ^ non sei capace offender Tamorose e culle
donne. Per fin che vivi a te tal grazia chieggo. Disse, e di
mirto (poiché avea le chiome Di mirto ornate quando a me comparve )
A me una foglia diede e poche bacche. Ricevuti i suoi doni, io mi
sentii Invaso dal suo nume, e Paer più puro Splendermi intorno , e
facile l’impresa Comparirmi al pensier. Mentre l’ingegno E desto ,
a me i precetti richiedete, Che a voi, donne, ascoltarli ora è
permesso Dal pudor, dalle leggi e da ogni dritto. Siate memori
ognor della ventura Vecchiezza, e per voi il tempo ozioso mai Non
passerà. Scherzate ora che lice, Nè si consumi invano il fior degli
anni, Che come 1 onde fuggono veloci. Tornar non puote alla
sorgente il fiume. Tornar non puote la passata etade. Cadete
dunque, che trascorre il tempo Con frettoloso piè, nè lieto mai
Come il primiero siede. Or bianco miri Questo stelo , su cui già in prima
vidi Io rosseggiar le viole, e questa spina Grata al c^pe mi porse
un di corona. Stagion verrà che tu , che "fchivi adesso
L’amante , fredda e abbandonata in letto cui, nacque y perche^ da
essa ebbe erigine la rovina di Troja. Ma i fratelli della medesima ,
Castore e Polluce Vacciecarono crudelmente ; ed ei per ricuperare
la sta , fu costretto a comporre un poema in sua lode»
Digitized by Google Giàf&ttsi vecchia giacerai. Notturna
Rifsa non fia che la tua porta atterri, Nè sul mattino troverai di
rose II limitar della tua casa asperso. Misero me ! come
corrotti presto VeggoDsi i corpi dalle rughe , e, come ^ Langue ih
nitido volto il color primo! Quei che sul capo tuo bianchi capelli
Si miran* or,che fin da’di più acerbi Giuri che furon tali ; ah che ben
tosto Si spargeran per tutto il capo. Méntre (i 4) La sua spoglia
sottile il serpe lascia. Ringiovanisce ; e rinnovando i cervi Le
corna, non rassembrano^ mai vecchi. Fuggon senza speranza i nostri
beni; Cogliete il fior, che se non colto vegna, Cadrà miseramente.
A questo aggi ungi Che fan più breve giovinezza i parti; Invecchia
il campo per continua messe. Non di vergogna a te , Cinzia , fu causa
(i5) Il latmio Endimion , nè già doveo Per il rapito Cefalo
arrossire (i6) I Serpenti si spogliane ogni anno della luto
scorza* I Cervi cangiano ogni anno le qorna ; ma ne * rimangono privi se
sian castrati mentre le hanno de~ poste , e più non le varifino, se
soffrano una tale ope* razione phma di deporle. Impiegano i medesimi
cin^ que o sei anni nel crescere, e però tioono’ solamente circa
trentacinque o quarànta anni , ttd ortta di tutte * le fuoole, che gli
antichi hanno scritte sulla lunga ìor vita. Buffon nella sua Storia
naturale. (15) Cinzia ( Annoi, del Lih, I. ) scendeva dal
cielo per godersi Endimione, che qui dicesi latmio per^ chè s^ascondeva
ifi Latmo spelonca del monte, di Caria. (16) S* innamorò la rosea
Aurora di Cefalo figlio di Mercurio, e però lo rapì « Prgcri sua moglie La
rosea Diva. Adori si lasci a parte, Tuttor di pianto a Vetieré^
cagione, Com’ebb’olla Antonia, cotii* ébbe Enea ? (r 7 )
Seguite" tiiir P esémpid delle Dive, O bellezze tóót^aK , é a^
desiosi ' UomìAì noilitìegate il favor vostro.: Siano
essi ingannatori ; e che perdete? Mille vi godan pur<;‘tutto
rimane Nello stato pritòiér. Gon Fuso il ferro* Si consuma e
la‘ pietra ; in Vói non pudte Cosa alcuna peirir , ricever danno.
Chi ^vieterà cW dal vicino lùme*^ Il lume non si prenda ? e
chi nel vasto Seno del mar V onde serbar procura? Tu mi dirai
che non convien che a un uomo Si dia la donna in preda ; ma che
perdi Altro che l’acqua che ricever puoi? Non vogliono i mìei
carmi o la mia vocb» Al libero dell* uom commercio esporvi^
Ma vietanvi temer le cose inani; Non posson soffrir danno i
doni vostri. Me un’aura lieve , mentre siamo in porto»
Spìnga, che ,al soffio dì più forte vento Sono per cominciar maggior
viaggio. Dalla cnltura io do princìpio. Il vino Ceneroso dan
sol le calte vigne, £ sol né’campiVcoltìvatì miri
Lussureggiar le biade. £ la bellezza Dono del cielo , e come ah vien
superba OQ.Arteà'am. e (17) La Dea Venere éhhe à(jL Arichise
il figlio Enea , e da Marte la figlia Anmónia, Bastano . tàli
esemp) per provare che ella permise a molti di possederla .
Digitized by Google pJbeU^z<i ogui danpa 1 1Ja «ran
parte Di voi prirs rù^.A quf»to 4ouo. . Con U coltura la beiti ai
4CqWti Cile si perdo nfgfct^ ^ apci^r cjio eguale A gueili fosse
dpU'idalia Diy*. (i8) , Se Io prische fasullo, il corpo Joì;a
Non coti custodirò ^ se gli autieri Uomini incolti vissero , se cinse
; Pesante gonna.AndroiMCjayìo non yeggo>(f 9 ) Bagjon
4i,,ayiglia^I es^SA d’un rezzo , Guerrier fu^^mpgli^. Fprsé a Ajace
incontro Adorna andap dpvea la sua consorte, (ao) Se a Ini la^
pflle .poi di sette bovi Servia di veste ? Ne^ primieri tempi Rozza
regnò semplìcitade, e immense Ricchezze Roma del soggetto mondo Ora
possiede. Osserva quale adesso (ai) ^ \ Sia,il OampidogUo, e gual
no’giorni andati^ E dovrai dir c]lie ,fa d'un altro Giove. Ventre
dicesi idalia dal monte Idale in Cif^ro a lei consagrato,
(19) Andromaca fa moglie A*Ettore Capitano deU VArmata Uroijana,
Annótàz, 89 del Lih, li. (ao) AJaae figli^di Telamone è oelebràto
daOm'e^' ro nella sua Iliade come uno piu valorosi Prine^ che
andarono all*assedio di Trofa. Sposò egU an*an^ cella nominata Teemessa;
e però dice Or ozio Movit Ajacem Telamone natura ’ Fórina
captiTflB Dominuin Teemessa. La Curia fu anticamente , secóndo
F’arrone, distribuita in due parti, in una delle quali custodi^
vano i Sacerdoti le cose diwine , ’e neWaltra tratta^ vano i Senatori le
cose umane. TaaUr fu un Re de* Sabini così accorto 9 che seppe ottener da
Rpmelaiina parte del Regno dopo d*aver perduto un'atroce bai»
taglia. La Curia, che di tanto ora' rasaembra Concìlio degna, fu di Tazio
a’tempi Di rozza paglia intesta. Qoe'palagi- Ch# ora risplendon
sacri a Febo e a’Ooci; Che furon maì^ se non pascolo un giorno Agli
aratori buoi f Piacciano ad altri Le cose antiche ; io meco stesso
godo D* essere in questa età nato conrorme A’ miei costumi, non
perchè si tragga Dalle vìscere cieche della terra 11 dutil oro, o
perchè venga a noi Scelta conchiglia da diverso lido; Nè
perchè i monti facciansi minori Per i marmi scavati ^ o perchè altere
* Sorgano moli ove giaceva il mare; Ma perchè regna or la
cultura , e a’nostri Tempi rusticitade agli avi antichi Cara non
giunse. non fate carchi 1 vostri orecchi di preziose pietre, Che
in mar lo scolorilo Indìan raccoglie; Nè comparite già gravi per
Toro Tessuto sulle vesti, onde ben spesso Le ricchezze cercate e le
rapite. Dalla mondezza noi sìam vinti. Il crine Si disponga
con legge; un pettin dotto R dona e toglie a suo piacer bellezza.
Non r ornamento stesso a tutte giova; Quello scelga ciascuna , in cui più
splende^ E si consigli col fedel suo specchio. Chiede una lunga
faccia che sul capo (za) {2.2) Augusto fabbricò nel suo palazzo un
Tempio consacrato ad Apollo Palatino. 1 Duci ^ a* quali ^ dim cesi
sacro il palazzo medesimo, sono Augusto e Tim bario, mentre quegli vi
nacque , e questi vi abitò» loe Siati ben divisi non velati i
crini; Così avea Laodàmia le chiome adorne* Voglion le piene
e ritondette guance^ Che della &onte sul confin vi lasci
Piccol nodo onde veggansi, gli orecchi, D’an*altra il orin flagelli
ambe* le spalle,^ Quale al canoro Apollo allor che in mano Piglia
la lira. Come Pagi! Diana Altra gli .abbia legati, alLor che al
bosco Peiseguita le fiere pau^ròse. Convien che questa abbia
i capelli gonfj; £ strettamente quella il crine implichi* Altra
s’adorni in guisa tal la ehioma,^ Che alla cilleuia cetera
assomigli (aS); Questa V increspi in modo ohe rassembri Onda
marina. Numerar non puoi Quante sulla ramosa elea sian ghiande.
Quante in Ibla sian api, e quante fiere S’ascondano nell’alpi, io pur non
posso A te narrare le diverse fogge Di dar la legge al crin ,
mentre ogni giorno Ne sorgono novelle. A molte giova Che sia
negletto : crederai che il capo Quelle jerì s^ornasser , che con nuova
Cura testé si pettinar’la chioma. Studia con l’arte d’imitar Natura.
Era Jole così, quando la vide Mercurio inventò la Lira fatta a gedsa di
te» staggine , e questa dicesi cillenia ^ perchè egli nacque nel
monte Cillene in Arcadia, Se Ooìdio tornasse a vigere in questo secolo ,
dorrebbe certamente veder con Rubilo che le nostre Dame seguono con la
massima esattezza i suoi proietti nell* adornarsi i capelli. Amò
Èrcole ardentemente Jole figlia di Eu» riio, il qual rìcue/ò di dargliela
in isposa, quoMtun» Ercole ; presa la cittade » e disse : lo ramo;
e tal Pabbandonata ; donna Quando sai carro sosteneala Bacco»
E i Satiri gridare : evviva » evviva. Quanto in favor della
bellezza vostra Fu Natura indulgente» o donne I Voi In mille modi
ricoprir potete Z vostri danni. Invan noi ci asix^ndiamò; Cadono
per 1* etade i capei nostri Come le foglie allor ebe Borea soffia.
Con le germanicb’ erbe asconder pnote (aS) La donna la canizie » e
può con Parte Miglior del vero altro cercar colore. Vanne la donna
con la chioma folta f 'glUVaotsu solennemente proméssa,
frritmto gli pertanto da una tal negativa, debellò la Città
d^Occatia » 09 e questi regnava » e gli rapì la sua di¬ letta
denteila. :(a&) si sa veramente auali si fossero
quell^er- he germaniche ^ del di egù amore eUrattivo compone- vano
gli antichi un medicamento » col quale i capel¬ li bianchi si riducevan
neri o biondi. Si Sono però, trovate a’ nostri tempi molte ricette, ohe
compensano largamente una tal mancanza. Cosi se i capelli sìan
bianchi, si posson ridut neri col far uso d*una po¬ mata, a cui siasi
aggiunto una piccola porzione di nero d*aoorio ben macinato » oooero di
sughero bru- glato unito all* azzurro di Berlino. Resta pm assai
difficile di ridurli biondi » se non si vogUono adope¬ rar polveri
d^amido leggiermente torrefatte. La mi¬ glior ricetta che si può per
quest* effetto accennare » é la seguente : si faccia una forte liscioìa
di cenere di sarmenti ; vi si unisca una piccola quantità di ra¬
dice di brionia e di celidonia; si faccia il tutto bol¬ lire; ed in fine
vi Raggiunga altra più piccola pdtr- zione di zafferano dell* Indie , di
fiorì di stecaae e di ginestra. Si coli per tela, e si laoino con una
tal acqua piu volte i capélli. fOft Per i
compri capelli , e col denaro In mancanza de* saoi porta gK altrou
Nò il coidprar ciò palesemente teca Ve^ogna i noi vediam che son
venduti D* Ercole in faccia e del virgineo coro. (a6) Che dirò
della veste f Oro ed argento 10 non ricerco ^ o che rosseggi
tinta La lana in tiria porpora. Se mille A prezzo più leggier vi
son colori, ,, É qual è dì follia segno piò espresso Che di
portar sul corpo i propr} censìf Ecco il color delFaria allor che
searca Si rimira di nubi, e il tepid*au8tro Non apporta la pioggia
: eccone un altro Simile a te che sostenesti nn giorno Come si
narra, e Frisse ed Elle quando (27) Fuggir* le frodi d* Inoe. Imita
questo 11 cernleA mare ^ da ciò traggo Il proprio nome,
e di tal veste 10 credo Si coprisser le Ninfe. Altro è simile (28)
Si rUeva di qui, che in faccia mi Tempia fMrtcata in onore d'Èrcole
e delie Muse , avevano i Romani una bottega 9 in cui vendei ansi i
capelli. ' (a^) Frisso ed Elle figli dì Adamante Re di Tebe
fuggir dalle frodi d* Inoe loro matrigna, salirò* no' sopra il montone
ornato del Vello d^oro^ che Mercurio diè in dono a Nefale madre d^
medesimi. Frisso fu da quello felicemente portato in Coleo , ma
Elle'precipitò in quel mare , che prese da lei il nome d^ Ellesponto. Con
^esta favola vuol però dire il Poe* ta 9 che era presso i Romani in uso (
e lo è pure cd di nostri ) il colore che si assomiglia a quello dell*
oro^ - (aQ) Essendo il giovinetto Croco impaziente di poe* cedere
Snùlaoe sua dUetta amante 9 fu trasformato in un fiore che dicesi
volgarmente ZefBivano , o che da lui Ica preso il nome di Croco.
£t Grocam ia parros yersam cum Smilace flore». Ovid,
Metam. TOS AI Croco, e qàaiido accoppia i Ittraihbsi
Destrier, con cròcea reste pur' si rela La rugiadosa Dea. Di'Pafo a’mirti
' Questo assomiglia , e quello alle purpuree Amariste , alle rose
biancheggianti (29) Uno‘^ ed tin altro aÈa'straniera grue. Le
ghiande tuè ti sod pure, o Ainarilli, Nè ri tnancanr le mandorle, e il
suo nome Diede alle lane per la eera. Quanti Fiori produce la
norella terra ~ Allor che fugge iUpìgro rCrnò, e stilla Gemme
la rite ^ tanti beo la lana Color dirersi, e quello scei tu dei>
Che col tuo rolto Si confà. Ogni reste Non conriene a ciascuna. I
neri ammanti- Fan risplender le bianche. Assai più. bella
firiseide, allor che fu rapita, apparre, Perchè le membra accolse in
negra reste*. Odora alle brune donne il color bianco: E tu
piaceri, o di Oefeo, ( 5 o) In bianca resta allor che di
Serifo Passeggiar! le rie* Io diei consiglio Che del capro il fetor
sotto V ascelle Non passi, e che non sian per duri peli Aspre le
gambe,. Ma non io già deggio Delle caucasee rupi le £snciulle Far
dotte, o quelle che di Caico misio {ìi} (29 ÀmaUsta è una gemma ,
il di. oui colore è- quasi simile a quel della porpora. (So)
La figlia di Cefeo à Andromaca: avrà essa probabilmente passeggiai per le
vie di Serifo > perchè è questa una piccola Isola del mare egeo ,
nella quàU fu edueato Perseo suo liberatore. ( 3 r) Gli
abitatori del monte Caucaso furore antica-- menteiCome lo sono tuttora,
ferocissitni. FI Caico-è unfiu^ me della Frigia e della Lidia ^ che
proviene dalla JS/Lsia. Bevano all*onde. Che non siano i denti
V*ammonirò per hidblenza foschi, E che si lavin sul mattin 1 ^
guanoe Con man dell’onda aspersa. Voi sapete Pjocacciarvi il candor
con distemprata Cera; e con Parte divien rossa quella. Cui non
colora il sangue suo la. faccia: Voi con Parte il confin nudo del
ciglio Fate ripieno, e voi con tenue pelle Ricoprite talor |e vere
gote. Stropicciar gli occhi poi non è vergogna Con la cenere
tepida „ o col crocb Che nasce presso te , lucido . Cinno. (3a)
Tengo un libretto picciolo, ma grande ^ Opra per il pensiero , in cui i
rimedj - ' Qià v’insegnai per la bellezza vòstra» ( 3
d) Con felice successo adoperarono le Dame Ro^ mane la cera distemprata
per far fianca la peUe ; e con faUe^ ti Adopera ancora in questi
tempi dalle nostre Dame . Ecco il modo di prepararla : ad una
parte di cera bianca di Venezia si uniscono otto parti d* acqua , a cui
si aggiunge una piccola porzione d*alcali vegetale y e si di^cioglie il
tutto finché non si abbia una sostanza consimile al latte* he Dame
ro^ mane solevano ancora adornare co* colori , e riempire co*peli
ben disposti quello spazio ài pelle nuda che é fra il ciglio e il
sopracciglio, s ! • Il le •apercìlium magaa faligine tinctum
« Obliqua producit acu. Giovenale. Dalla Cilicia che è
irrigata dal fasme Ciano fa» cevano esse venire il zaffarono ed altre
céneri atte a purgar gli occhi dagli umori soverchp; e a renderli per
cònseguenza maggiormente^vivaci. Ha scritto Opì- dio un piccolo libro de
medicamiue faciei quale inségna alle Donne tutti i rimedj, che
possono contri» buire a far bella la lor faccia e le loro
membra. Quindi riparo alla figura offesa Cercate, che non è per gli
usi Vostri Inefficace Farte mia. L’apiaìite Non miri apertamente i
vasi esposti. Che Tarte ascosa giova alla beltade. A
chi non spiaceria mirar sul volto Stendere quella feccia , e
lentamente' Cader pel peso suo nel caldo seno? Quàl dall*
immonda lana dell* agnella ( 33 ) €2 ( 33 )
Fahhricavasi in Atene con In lana sudicia e molle un medicamento che i
Greci chiamavano Etipo. Le Donne facevano uso di questo per mollificare
le ulceri di qualche delicata lor parte. Vedasi Diosco* ride y
Plinio il Mattioli nel suo erbario ; che ne parlano a lungo , ed
insegnano la maniera di fabbri^ cario, ' Non d può accennare
qui il modo , con cui prepa^ radano gli antichi i midolli della Cerva
yper averne un composto atto a far bianchi i denti, era i molti
medicamenti che hanno per quesV effetto inventati i nostri Chinùci , ci
piace di riportar qui la polvere , V oppiata i e le spunghe ; di^ cui dà
Mons, Beaumé la ricetta nella sua Farmacia, Ad un*oncia di
pomice, di terra sigillata^ e di corallo rosso s*aggiunga mexz*oncia di
sangue di Dra^ go, un* oncia e mezza di cremar di tartaro^ se ne
fac^ da una polvere sottilissima , e vi si unisca una pie- cola
porzione di garofani e di cannella. Per compor quindi V oppiata
> si prenda un* oncia della polvere suddetta, due once di lacca rossa
da Pittori, quattro di mele di Narhonne, due di siroppo di more ; a
queste ù uniscano due gócce d* dio essen-- ziale di garofani, e si avràr
un* oppiata , che S4^à op¬ portuna , come la polvere , a ripulire ,
imbianchire , e preservare i denti da molti incomodi. Una
stessa virtà hanno le spunghe preparate , e intrise in una tintura fatta
con lìfibre quattro a^ua, in cui abbina hoUUo quattVonce di legno del
Bras^* Daraiìne ing^rato odòrè- il 'sugo estratta^ Benché da Atene
a noi si mandi t Inverò^ Lodar non so cl^ alla presenza altrui
Della cerva i midolli insìem mischiati Piglinsi, e che palesemente i
denti Si faccian netti* Utili alla beltade Sono. tai cose , ma
deformi troppa Agli occhi nostri* Molte cose fatte Piacciono, e
turpi son mentre si fanno» Le statue di Mirone opre famose, ( 34 )
Furono inerte peso e dura massa, Per farsi anello , Toro in pria si
frange, E quelle vestì, onde vi fate adorne,, Furon. sordide
lane* Era aspro marmo,. Mentre erano a scolpirla intenti, quella
Statua nobile in cui Venere nuda Trae fuor dall* onde gli umidi capelli.
(35)* Fa che pensar possìam che dormi allora Che tu Vadornì, Io
lusingl>ieTa forma Sarai mirata se alla tua cultura le,
tre dramme di cocciniglia soppesta , e quattri) di alume di rocca .
Quando queste spunghe si sono, im¬ bevute d* una sufficiente quantità d*
una tal tintura, si fanno asciugare, si pongono per alcune ore
nello- spirito di vino, a cui siasi aggiunte una porzione di- olio
di cannella y di garofani,.e di spigo ec.; quindi si spremono, e sì
conservano per valersene al bisogno, ih vaso di Oetre ben ehiuso.
(34J Mirone discepolo d^ Ageladé seppe formare in bronzo còsi
perfettamente le statue , che Petronio dite aver egli compreso nel bronzo
V anima degli uomini e delle bestie Alludesi alla famosa statua di
PrassiteU , che rappresenta Venere nuda neW atto d^ uscir dal
mora. Fu questa collocata in Roma nel Tempio di Bruto Callaico
insieme col Colosso di Marte pvesso - il Circ¬ eo ffaminio» Diligente
darai T ultima mano. Del talamo le porte ben raccbiudi.
Perchè vuoi far^ palese un’opra rozaaf Molte COEC' ignorar gli
uomini danno. Di. cui gli ofiendón molte, se non copri Ciò ,
che & d’uopor di tener , celato. Vedi quelle che pendono^ da un
culto> Teatro aurate statue, a osserva bene Qual lieve foglia il
legno lor ricopra.. Ma come quelle al popolo* non lice Veder
ae non sien poste in vaga mostra^ Così se non elea gli uomini
lontani, Non si procuri d’acquistar bellezza. Non
vieteiò cbe al pettine abbandoni Palesemente 1 tuoi capelli, quando
Scender potran per tutto il tergo aspersi. Di non esser procura allor
molesta, • Ne aciorre spesso le mal calte chiome. Sicura sìat
quella che il crin t’adorna; Odio colei che le ferisce il volto Con
l’un ghie liCi con rapito ago le punge 1 ( braccia Allor d’ancella là
detesta. Le tocca il capo, e sull’odiate trecce* Col
piaotn suo scende mischiato il sangue* Quella che il capo.ha.quaai calvo
,ipoDga^ Sulla porta il oustode , o della Dea Gibele al ten^pio ad
adornar si vada. ( 56 ) ^ ( 36 )’ CibéU aveva in Roma un Tempio,
in cui non potevano aver gli uomM V accesso : 4 Sacra Bona
maribas non adeunda Des. Tibullo, Insinua pmttauio
Ovidio con questa frase Me Donne di non pettinarsi alla pretenza^ degli
uomini^ se non so» Mli i ìorq capelli fui annunziato airimprovviso un
giorno A una -donzalla; e torbida i non suoi Velò capelli. Uo
tal ro 88 or > ricopra La faccia alle nettiicbe, e questa^
infamia Fra le particele Nuore abbia soggiorno. Turpe è Tarmento
senza corna, e turpe Senza gramigna è il campo, Tarboscello Senza
le foglie, e senza i crini il ^apb» Non-vennero ad udire i miei
precetti Semele, Leda ^ o la sidonia donna (37) Che via portò pel
tnar fallace Toro, O la tua sposalo Menelao, cW chiedi Bene a
ragione, e che a ragion si tiene 11 Rapitor Trojano^Ecco una
turba*' Di belle donne e dì deformi a un tempo ( Ahi sèmpre
il ben dal male è snperato ! ) Che chiède i miei precetti, ma non tanto
Cercan questi le belle , e men dell^rfe Procurano rajoto. Han quelle in
dota Beltade senza Parte assai possente. Quando tranquillo è
il mar, sicuro bessa^ Il nocchier dal lavoro, e mentre è gonfio Si
asside, e in opra pone ogni socConk). Rara è beltà che senza macchie Sia;
^ Le cela , e i vizj del tuo jcorpo ascondi {37) Semeie
figlia di Cadmo He di TeÒe e.madre^ di Bacco , Leda figlia di Tindaro, e
sorella di Ca- stare e Pollice, Buropa figlia di Agenore He di Fe¬
nicia ove giace la città di Sidone , da cui élla vieti detta Sidonia,
furono dotate d*una tal bellezza , che innamorarono vivamente lo stesso
Giove, il quale non^ ebbe à vile di prender per esse le più strane
sem^ hianze. Queste con Elena mogUè 'di Menelaosi pro» ^ pongono
qui dal Poeta , come eiélnpi troppe rari dì: perfetta bellezza. Quanta
più puoi'« Se di statura breve Tu sei, t’assidi, onde seder non
sembri Allor che in piedi stai. Se oltre misura Però lo fo^si^
allor ti porca , e ascondi Con le vesti su’piedi un tal difetto.
Quelle che sono gracili e minute Debbon di grossi drappi ornarsi, i
quali Sciolti cader si lascin dalle spallo. Tocchi il suo
corpo con purpurea verga ( 38 ^ Chi è pallida ; e chi è nera abbia
ricorso Al fario, pesce. Un piò lungo e deforme Sottu candida
alunda pgnor si celi, ($9) Nè secche gambe .sciolgansi da* lacci.
(38) È certo , gU onticfd aoéoano de* medica^ menti , co* quali ti
coloravan la faccia ^, benché non d sappia di qual natura^ quelli si
fossero . Il belletto > che si usa pretentemente è composto di rosso e
di biancone sarà forse pià efficace di quel che adopra* vano le
Daàte romane. Si è per qualche, tempo im-^ piegata Cernita il magistero
di Bismuto^ detto altrimenti bianco di spanna com« quello, che
avendo un leggiero color d* incarnato, era pià analogo aHa pelle ;
ma sì l* una che l* altro anneriscono e guasta¬ no la carnagione, mentre
tutte le calci metallici^ ri¬ prèndono una parte del loro flogisto , e,
si ripristinano* Si è pertanto sostituita alla cerussa ed al bismuto
la pomata di spermàceti^e l* olio di mandorle dolci, unendovi una
porziànè di falco'biancò finissimo. Col talco bianco ùmilmente barico
,della parte coloranto de* fiori di Cqrt^mfi j a, ,cui si aggiungono
poche goc¬ ce di olio di Beri, per renderlo pastoso è molle, si compone
il roiso y che ancor chiamasi-rosso di porto- gallo o roSso'vegetale.
‘ Il /arto pesce é il Coccodrillo y degl* interiori e della
sterco del quote sh servivano i Homani e(f i Greci per fare un composto
atto a render bianca e splendida, lo pellé. (39) X’Alauda b
una pelle moUissiuia, Tenue eoscm conviene ad alte spalici E se il
petto sìk turgida, il circondi Fascia, e lo stringa. Se le dità
pin^ui^ E scabre T ùnghie avrai, allor di rado Accompagna
congesti i detti tuoi. Chi grave dalla bocca esala oddte ' •
Digiuna mai non parli ^ e dalla bocca Deir uom stia lungi. Negri, e
troppo grandi Se i denti siéno, o in non belFordin natii Massimo il
«iso allora apporta danno. Chi ^1 crederiaMiC donne apprendon
pure Le. maniere del ti80 ,'e in qùesta parte Nuovo per lor
procacciano òtnatoeùto. Non troppo-larga apri la bocca , e brievi
Sian le pozzette in ambedne le. gote, E le radiche ognor copra
de’denti L’estremità de’labbri , e non bisogna. Affaticar con
smoderato riso . Il fianco, mentre deve ancor nel riso. - Dar
proprio, delle donne urf dolce sùono'. V’ è pur chi in mille guise il
volto- Con male acconce risa*, ed altra credi Piangere allor che
tutta allegra ride$ Quella tramanda un, rauco suono ; e stride Cosi
inamabilmente, che ^assembra ; Asìnella che ragli, allor che intorue s
5 Alla macina gira.^E'do Ve l’arte ^ Non giugno ? Coù decòro
itnpajfan ) A lacrimare, e come, e qhandò sembra, ^ Loro opportune.
E che dirò di quelle. Che niegano agli accenti intera forma,
E fan con studio balbettar la linguaf ^ Credon che sia lìa grazia
ancor nel viziò^. E pronunciano mal varie paròle^ •
Digitized by Google rrii E con arte studiata
altre ne lasciano. A tutto ciò, che ben giovar vi puote^
Ponete cura, e con femineo passo Imparate a portare il corpo
vostro^ Havvi nel portamento anco il decoro. Con cui si
fan fuggir , con cui si allettano^ Gii uomini ignoti. Muove questa il
fianco Con arte , ed ondeggiar lascia le gopne Air aure in preda, e
stesi i piedi porta Con maniera superba. Altra cammina Qual deir
umbro marito la consorte (4o). Rubiconda, e con piede in dentro
volto rapassi move smisurati •y in q^uesto Serbisi, e in altro pur
giusta misura» Rustici ha questa i moti, e troppo quella^ E molli e
ricercatk LMraa* parte Della spalla, e r estrema ancor del braccio
Di nuda, onde chi posto è al manco lato Veder la possa. -Hi special modo
a voi Gioverà che qual neve avete bianca Ina pelle. Quando questa
io mira, sem-pr^ Sulla spalla scoperta i bacci imprimo. Col
dolce suon della canora voce Fermàr le navi più spedite al corso Le
Sirene* del mare iniqui mostri. (41) {40) Condanna Ovidio a
ragione come rozze le mo¬ gli degli Ultori popoli forti e a un tempo
stesso /«- voci f che abitarono in Italia sul monte Appennino, (41)
I>c Sìrerse sono tre barbari mostri che dimora¬ rono nel mar di
Sicilia, Col suon lusinghiero deWar¬ moniosa lor voce'allettavano queste
in tal maniera i naviganti , che si lasciavano essi predar
facilmente. Ulisse per evitare un tanto pericolo , chiuse con la
cera ^^^cchie suoi compagni^ e si legò strettamente'^ M albero
della na^e ^da cui si disciolse dopo jia Udite qneste,
se medesmo sciolse DalParbor della nave, e con la cera Chiuse
Ulisse accompagni ambe le orecchie. È lusinghiero il canto . Le
fanciulle Apprèndano a cantar ; la voce a molte Senza bellezza
conciliò gli affetti. Cantino quel che udirò ne’ marmorei
Teatri f ed or versi costrutti in metro (42) Niliaco; e culta femina
tenere Sappia per mio giudizio or nella destra 11 plettro , ed or
con l’altra man la cetra. Il tracio Orfeo con la sua lira mosse ( 43
) Le fiere, i sassi, le paludi stigie, Ed il triforme Cane .
O della madre Giusto vendicatore al canto tuo Cortesi i sassi
fabbricar’ le nlura. Benché sia muto, il pesce ( è nota al
mondo Favola) al suon del arionia lira( 44 ) sentito il dolce
cànto di quelle . Le donne imparino dunque a cantare ,se ooglionsi
conciliare, come dice Otfidio , P qmore degli uomini, ( 4 ^)
E!ran famigliari a* Romani le canzonette ame^ rose , e spesso lascile ,
ahe si cantavano in Egitto , ove scorre il celebre fiume Nilo,
(43) Orfeo nato in Tracia da Apollo e da Calilo • pe col suono
armonioso della sua Lira fece sì che gli corressero dietro per ascoltarlo
, gli alberi , i sassi , i fiumi , e le beloe feroci : Quand* egli intese
la morte d* Euridice sua moglie , scese con la lira all* Infernot e
con quella intenerì talmente gli Dei infernali, che a lui la restituirono
, purché non ardisse di riguar-- darla prima d* uscir dall* Inferno, Non
p9té l* amo^ toso consorte obbedire a tal legge , e però ella dovè
involarsi a* suoi sguardi subito ch^ ei la mirò ( 44 ) Anfione
figlio di Giove e d*Antiope indusse le pietre col suon della Lira a
fabbricar le mura della città 4i Tebe. Picesi vendicator della madre,
perchè. Si fe* pietoso . Anco a toccare impara Con Tana e l’altra
man le dolci corde Del Salterio ; son atte a* cari scherzi*
Di Callimaco a te smn noti i carmi. Quelli del eoo Poeta , e
quei del tejo (45) Vinoso Vecchio. A te Saffo sia nota (Son più
degli altri i carmi suoi lascivi) E quel per cui viene ingannato il
padre (46) Del servo Oeta con la callid’ arte. Del tenero
Properzio i versi leggi, O quei di Gallo, o quei del buon
Tibullo, O i velli insigni per le bionde fila (47) insieme
fratello Leto la vendicò dall* ingiurie , che recatale Ideo di lei marito
y col trucidarlo nel letto y ove lo sorprese con Dirce sua concubina y a
cui pure tolse la vita. Atwne nacque in Metinna , e fu im
eccellente Po&^ ta lirico , e nel tempo medesimo un ricco
mercante. Ufosid alcuni suoi comùttadini dal desiderio di godere
delle sue ricchezze fissarono di gettarlo in mare, men*^ tre egli se ne
tornala alla patria. Accortosi di ciò Arione cantò intrepidamente una
canzonetta , ed un-' Delfino , allettato da una sì dólce melodià ,
Vaccai^ se sulle sue spalle y e lo portò in Tanaro promontorio
della Laconia, (45) Accenna ora Òoidio i Poeti che piacevano
ai suoi tempi , e per lo stile e per le materie galanti , come a*
dì nostri piacciono Ariosto , Passo , Guaritù , è Metastasio ec.
Fiteta fiorì a* tempi d*Alessandro Magno per li suoi' versi
elio^afici , e dicesi eoo Poeta y perche Coo /if ia sua patria.
Anacreonte nacque in TeJo , e scrisse mol^ te canzoni veramente leggiadre
in onore del buon vi¬ no , delle donne y e del giovinetto Batillo.
(46) Terenùo compose una commedia, in cui il padrone , ed il
fratello sono ingannati da Geta asti^^ to lor servitore.
.'(47) ^^^^one Àttacino cantò ne* suoi versi la spe^ dizione in
Coleo degU Argonauti. Il vello d* oro , che jbyGoo'gle
ii 4 Che far fanesti, ó Prisso ^ alla tua aaara
Cantati da Varrone, q il pio Trojano Di coi non y’ha nel Lazio opra più
chiara. Ma forse un dì con 'questi andrà conginnto H nome nostro,
nè i miei scritti in Leta Saran dispersi/Dirà aldino : leggi ,
I culti versi del maestro nostro^ Con cui poteo far dotti
uomini c donne.^ Fra’suoi tre libri che hanno infronte scritto
II titolo d* amor 9 scegli que^ verai ( 4 j 3 )t Che legger tu
potrai con docil bocca Più mollemente ; oppur con ferma voco ,
Canta P Eroìdi , ignota opera agli altri Ch’egli compieo. Ahi cosi
piaccia aFebo^ Pel corno a Bacco insigne/ ed allò Muse, Numi che
son propizj a noi Poeti. Chi dubitar potrà ch^ìo la fanciulla
Non voglia al ballo istrutta, onde poi toltq Il vino dalla mensa » ella
le braccia Volga in composte ed ordinato moto? Amansi i danzator
che della scena Sonò spettacol, perchè san con arte : V
Saltare y e con decoro. Io mi vergogno Di doverla ammonir di tenui cose,
_ questi ivi andarono a conquistare , fu funesto ai Elle
sorella di Frisso y perchè ella , come si è accennato y cadde miseramente
in mare , mentre il Montone ador^ no d* un tal vello la portava insiem
col fratello ih Coleo,, Tl pio Trojsno h, come è noto y Enea, sulle
aùoni del quale ha scritto Virgilio quell* aureo Poe» ma che porta il
nome d* £aeidb. {èfi) Ovidio fra l*altre sue opere annovera
ancora ire libri d* Elegie intitolati gli Amori, ed un libro -
intitolato V ^roidi , perchè comprende ventuno lettere amorose y che fa
scrioère scambievolmente dagli Eroi all’Eroine^ e dalfEroioe agli
£roi. P’istruirla a gettare or l’aliosso, £ a conoscer de’
dadi anco il valore. Or tre numeri getti, ed ora accorta (49)
Pensi qual parte segua acconciamente E qual richieda. Canta in finta
guerra (5o) Muova i soldati, che da duo assalito Nemici uno
perisce. Il Re sorpreso Senza la sua compagna ^ si difenda Da se
medesmo , e f’emulo ritorni Per lo stesso seotier.' La tasca è
aperta^ E ornai son sparse le pulite palle; (5 i) Quella che
prendi sol muover tn dei. Ravvi un: gioco diviso in tante parti
(Sai Quanti numera mesi il luhric^anno. Breve tabella prende
da ogni parte (S3)- Tre tenni pietre, e il vincere consiste Nel
disjpor queste in una dritta Mille giochi vi SOI» che turpe fia A
una donzella d* ignorar ; col gioco Si può l’amore conciliar.
Leggiera Fatica è appreodero a giocar ; maggiore Opra é il compmrre
allora i suoi costumi. C49) Non sappum Diramente per qual ragione
si~ éovesse procurare tempi, in cui vivcóa Ovidio di gettar tre
numeri nel gioco d^ Dadi. ^ 5 “^ •S£r»/erÌjco»o questi versi al
gioco degli Scacchi. (Si) questo un gioco, di cui non possiam
dare tucuna notula. Sembraci f che sia questo il gioco, che r
pure * *** dell» Dama. ( 53 ) Alludeu (d gioco del Filetto,
che . or gioeano' nule campagne i ragazzi. Così b decaduto un gioco
- 0^ formava la delizia delle Dame romane, e coi» aecaderanno ancor
quelli che si hanno in pregio a‘ dk nostri, ® ' Digitized by
Google Mentre s’applica al gioco, incanti siamo, E i
reconditi sensi alloc dell’ alma Facoiam palesi. Ci deforma il volto ^
j Il cieco sdegno, e sono ognot col gioco Il desio del
guadagno , le .pontese, » 11 sollecito duol, le stolte tìsse.^
j Rinfaccìansi i delitti ; di clamori * V aere risuona,
e in sno favor s’invocano Gl’ irati Dei. Non v’ è fede nel gioco Il
qual co’ voti non divìen secondo; Vidi le gote ognor molli di
pianto: Da voi che amate di piacere all’uomo, Giove tenga
lontan questo delitto. Diè la pigra natura allo fanciulle
Silaili giochi ; ad altri pii sublimi S* applica l’ uom : per
lui sono il paleo» ( 64 ) I dardi, 1 ’ armi , le veloci
palle; E il cavallo costretto a gire i^^no. Voi non
acosf^il’-campo.o'ra gelata ( 55 ) Vergin , nè voi sulle sue placid’ onde
j Porta il toscano fiume* Ah ! voi potete Gire all’ ombre pompeje,
anzi vi giova ( 56 ) 1 Quando i destrier del Sole ardono il capo
(5 4 ) H Paleo i urto strumento fatta a guisa Jt trottola, eoi
quale giocaoano i fanciulli romani fa- tendalo con una sferza girare
intorno. ( 55 ) Nel Campo Marzio si esercitavano » romani in
tutti que’giuochi cU potevano «P***^"'^* • renderli valorosi
guerrien. Era ivi ta Vergine dalla fanciulla che ne scopri la
sorgente, ed in quella si lavavano i giratori le di polvere
e di sudore. Il Tevere e qui detto fannie tascsno, perchè
dall’Appennino la Toscana nel f<u-t il siSo corso alla wta di
tioma. ( 56 ) Annoi, q. del fàh. I, ^ Digitized by
Google Alla vergin celeste. I sacri a Febo (5^)
i’alagi visitate ; egli sommerse In alto mar le paretonie navi.
I monumenti ancor» che fur costrutti» Dovete frequentar, da Ottavia
e Livia ( 58 ) Una suora del Ehjce, altra consòrte, E quelli
pur del valoroso Agrippa, Che ha cinto il capo di navale onore.
Della menfitica Iside agli altari (69) Siate frequenti , ov^ ardesi
P incenso, E ne’luoghi cospicui a’tie teatri. Di caldo
sangue le macchiate arene Ite a mirare, e la prescritta meta.
Rapido intorno a coi si volge il cocchia. Quel che si cela ò ignoto
, e ciò che è ignoto Nessun desio risveglia ; è lungi il frutto Se
manca il testimone a un bel sembiante. Benché nel canto superi Tamira
(60) ( 5 ?) Dicé con Ovidio ancora Virgilio, che Apollo nella
guerra Azziaca prestò il suo soccorso ad Augu^ sto y il quale aveoagli
innalzato un ternpio nel pro^ prio palazzo . Apollo in conseguenr^a ,
^Hcondo questi poeti , sommerse le navi egiziane deste paretonie da
Paretonio città marittima d*Egitto , che Pompeo avem va armate contro
d*Augusto. ( 58 ) Ved^i l*annot, 8 e g del Libro /. Augusto
decorò A grippa suo generò della Corona navale dopo d^aver debellato
Pompeo ^ ed innalzò al medesimo un portico y che fu chiamato il Portico
d’A^rippa. (59) Annoi, li del Lib, /. Dice Sirabone che gia¬
cevano tre superbi Teatri in vicinanza del Campa Marzio. (60)
Fu Tamira un poeta tragico che ardì con la sua lira di provocare le
stesse Muse ^ credendosi a quelle superiore nella dolcezza del
cantoma\dalle medesime fu vinto , ed in pena della' sua arrogwiza
gli furono tolti gli occhi. Digitized by Google
ii8 Ed Àmebeo , sarà priva d’ onor« L’ ignota
cetra» Se di Coo il Pittore Vener ritratta non avesse^ immersa
Sare^bbe ancor nelle mailne spume. £ che ricercan maggiormente i
sac^i Poeti che la fama ? E questo il fine Cui tendon tutte le
fatiche nostre. Fur de’Numi e de'Re delizia un giorno. 1
Poeti , ed immensi ottener premj I cori antichi* Venerando allora,
£ d’ una santa maestà ripieno Fu questo nome, ed ebbero
sovente Larghe ricchezze. Ennio che il suo natale Trasse ne’monti calabresi
, degno Si fé’ d’esser unito al gran Scipione. (6i) Or giaccion
senza onor Federe, e il nome Ha d’inerte colui, che i sacri studj
Cari alle Muse a coltivar s’accinge» Giova cercar la fama, e chi
d'Omero Contezza avrebbe , se in obblió sepolta Ateneo^
Plutarco ed altri parlano con somma lo^ de d*Amebeo ateniese , perchè
sonava eccellentemen- te la cetra, Apelle nativo di Coo dipinse Venere
nel- ratto di uscire dalVonde marine \ ed Augusto coliocè una tal
pittura nel Tempio dì Cesare suo Padre, (6i) ÉrUiio è tra i Latini
un poeta che si può da- gV Italiani paragonare a Dante.
Ennius ingenio maximus , arte xudis. Owd. Trist, Ub. IL EL
I, Fu egli, nativo di Rudia in Calabria , e visse som¬ mamente
caro a Scipione Affricano il vecchio , ed a molti altri insigni Cavalieri
romani. Morì in età di anni settanta , e dicevi che fu collocata la sua
sta¬ tua di marmo nel sepolcro degli Scipioni. Cicerone ^ro Archia
Peata , così parla di ciò : Garas fuit Af- iiricano superiori ngster
Ennius ; itaque in tepulcro ScipioQum putatur is esse constitutus e
marmore. L'Iliade o^ra imxnortal foase rimasa? ^ Chi Danae
conosoiata avr^a , se ascosa (6a) Posse étata mai sempre^ e «e già
vecchia' Si fo8a''ella lacchiusa eptro la torre? Utile è a voi ,
bèllé e vezzose donne, Di porre oltre le soglie il vago
piede< La lupa a molte agnello insidie tende Per predarne
una, e sopra molti augelli Vola 1 Augel dj Giove. Il volto mostri
Sposa_ leggiadra ^1 P®poI<>> o fra molti Un solo appéna rimai^rà
sua preda. In ogni loco ove si tro^ , attenda Sempre a
piacere; ed abi>ia special cura Di sua bellezza. Puote in ogni
incontro Sempre molto la sorte. Getta l’amo, Chè in quel
gor^o, ovemen lo pensi, il pé^co t alor SI trova . Erran sovente
indarno Per boschi montuosi i cani , e il cervo Cade fra’ lacci,
mentre uinn l’insegne. D Andromeda l^ata a un duro scoglio ( 65
) Il niT*** *Pf far, che a un uom piacesse Il pianto
sue ? ài cerca spesso un uomo Ne funerali del marito ; i crini
Sciolti portar conviene, e sian la gote Di lagrime bagnate . Ma
fuggite Gl, uomini che d’aver le ^mbra adorne hi fanno
un pregio ; della lor beltade Vanno superbi, e portano le
chiome Con ricercata simmetria, disposte. Ciò che dicono a
vói, dissèro a m{llé; D’ uno in un altro àmot Tàgando vanno ,
Senza restarsi in dmha "parte mai. Che d’un tal uomo
effemi,nato., a cui Forse molti non mancano amatori. Dee fer
la donna ? 11 crederete appena. Ma credetelo'pur , Troja' àncor
ferma ( 64 ) Starebbé,se di Priamo avesse ih uso\ ‘ Posto gl*
insegnamenti . H'a^yi di quelli Che sotto il mantó di fallate amore
^ ■V* assalgono , e tiòèrcan coh‘ tai mezzi Vergognosi
guadagni . Ntìn la chioma Per il liquido nardo nitidissima ^
V'inganni, o breve fascia con cui stringa Le pieghe della veste ; nè v’
illuda Toga che sia di tenue,fil tèssuta;^ O anel con cui
s’adorni uno o più. dita. Chi fra questi è più colto, è forse un
ladro, E d’ amore arde per la ricca veste. Gridano spesso le
spogliate Donne; Il mio a me rendi, e il suon per tutto il
foro Rimbomba, e s’ode ; a me deh rendi il mio. Tu da tuoi templi
d’oro adorni miri Con le femmine d’ Appia indifferente, ( 65 )
Venere, queste lìti , Ancor vi sono Pessimi nomi'pei^'non dubbia,
fama-. ( 64 ) Priamo iruinuava «’ tuoi Trojatti di rtrtdtr
^( 65 ) àoeva nella via appia tomo al quale abitarono molte
donne sacrifici che queste rendevano a quella lor lare
, consistevano in prestar liberante tl lor corpo alle voglie sfrtnatt
desìi uomm Iwrnnio E molte che rimasero ingjinnatp Da molti amanti,
or d’ un egual delitto Si trovan .ree. Dalle quetele altrui;
Imparate a; temer le^ vostre ; chiusa, Sia mai sempre la porta ad
uom fi^lace. Donne ateniesi, uon prestate fade (j66)‘ A Teseo
ancor, che giuri • In testimonio» Come invocolli nn giorno, i Numi
invoca. Tu del delitto, oJDemofonte , erede. Di Teseo più non
meriti credenza, (67) Perchè ingannasti Fillide . Se molto A te
pròmetteran, loro prometti j * Con eguali parale . So di doni,
Ti siano liberali, lor concedi I promessi piacer, ma se gli
nìeghi II dono ricevuto, ancor potrai. La fiamma
estinguer deUa vìgil Vesta, (68) Rapir da’templi dTside gli arredi,
E air uom porger T. aconito mischiato Con la trita cicuta«tll mio
desire , Mi spinge ora a ;fcenarmi, e: tu ritieni. Musa , le
brìglie : nè le mosse rote * Ti dian.terror» Tentino in prima il
guado Ov..Arte d-am. (66) Teseo abbandoni Arianna in
Nassa, (67) Demofe^nte non serbò a Fillide la premesti^ di
ritornarsene a lei dentro due mesi, (68) Con questi versi vuol
significare il poeta che è capace di commettere ogni sceUeratezza quella
don~ na , che nega il favor suo a quegli uomini da* quali ha
ricevuto de^ doni, Riputavasi in fatti da* Romani un enorme delitto il
rapire il fuoco custodito dalle Vestali, o i .sacri arredi del tempio d*
Iside; e da ogni nazione si è creduto sempre colpevole colui che
porge alVuQmo /^aconito con la cicuta , cioè il vet^no. Xrli scritti
fogli, e T inviate cifre Riceva accorta ancella . Apprendi e vedi
Dalle stesse parole che tu leggi, Se finga, o par se son sinceri i
prieghi. Dopo breve dimora ognor rispondi^ Mentre , se è
bre;i^e, è stimolo agli amanti. Deh non prometti al giovin che ti
prega D’ esser docile mai, ma in duri accenti Non.gli negar ciò che
dimanda . Tema E speri a un tempo^ e ognor che tu il licenzi Sia
minore il timor, maggior la speme. Scrivi culto parole e consuete,
Che un famigliare stil più eh’ altro piace. Ah quante volte arse
per dólci note II cor di dubbio amante , e fu nociva Una barbara
lingua a bella Donna! Benché voi siate nell* ònor perdute.
Tutte le cure vostre or son dirette A ingannate i Mariti . Idonea
mano D’esperto giovin, di fidata ancella Rechi le dolci lettere , e
tai pegni Non sian fidati ad un novello amante. Vidi ben spesso
impallidir le donno Per tal timore , e vìvere i lor giorni
Miseramente in sehìavitudin dura. Perfido è quei ohe tali doni
serba. Che qual fulmine etnèo sono in sua mano. Si può tener,
se al vero io non m’appongo, Lungi la frode con la frode ognora;
Contro gli armati impugnar 1 ’ armi, logge Nissuna vieta . A imprimer
sulla carta S’accostumi la man diverse cifre. Ah ! peran
quelli contro cui vi deggio Avvertir di tal cose. In foglio mondo
Digitized by Google 123 La risposta si
scriva , onde non sembri Da due mani vergato . Al suo diletto
Scriva la donna, .come un uòmo amante Scrive air amata » ed usi V uom V
opposto. Ma da lieve materia innalzar V alma Ora a me piace a più
sublimi cose, E le vele spiegar gonfie dal vento. Opra
è del volto i rabidi trasporti Saper frenar : candida pace all*
nonio Convien come alle belve ira crudele. Si fan per Tira
tumide le guancie; Vengpn nere le vene, e inocchio splende Più
truòemente del gorgòueo ‘fòco. (69) Vanne lungi da 'metromba
importuna^ Disse’Pallade ^ allór che il volto suo (*^0) Mirò )iel
fiume . Se voi iii mezzo all’ ira Riguardate lo specchio ^ alcuna appena
^ liistinguére pbtm W figura. ' Nè dannosa a Voi supérbr^^
facòià j TurgidJ il voltò ; có^ be^nigiii sguardi Deèsi a^es9ar 1 ’
amóre ‘J Odiahio ( e voi Già 1 fó^cre((efé che. ìie siete esperte)
‘ I fasti inambderatl^e spesso chiude Deir odio 1 sómi taciturna
faccia. / Guard^ ^uel che ii mira , e ùi olle mente Sorrmi
'a^ueì cjhe rid^ e se à te un cenno §ia . Gorgoni étart
t^e mostri \^enimente orribili per ìaHesta ^circonddia di serpi , e per
Vocchio spaven^ tegole che ateoanò in: mezzo alla fronte . Chi
fissava occhi in faccia*'alle medesime , rimaneva di sasso, (70)
Pallàde / sécorido^alcuni y gettò via la tromba, perdhè ^s’accorse chè ih
sonarla si faceva troppo gòHf^ la faccia. ‘ ' Con tai preludj il
favcitilletlo Amor» Pose i rozzi da parte, e diè di piglio A!
dardi acuti della sua faretra. Vadan lungi da noi le donne
meste; Ajace ami Tecmessa t noi sol puote Tener ne’lacci suoi
lemina allegra. (71) Non fa giammai che a voi porgessi preci, O
Andromaca o Teome^sa , onde a me foste O r una o Valtra amiche. Appéna
posso Creder che in letto maritar giaceste, Quando, a crederlo
astretto io son da^iiglL Fprse ad Ajace la dolente sposa ‘ Avrà
detto : mia luce, e gli altri accenti, Cari agli uomin|^ tanto f £ chi
mai Vieta, Applicar gravi esempli a tenni cose, E di guerrier
non paventare il npmef Cento soldati a questo^ il Duce esperto
(72]^ Diè a regger cop la vite ,|è a quello cento Cavalieri, e
lasciò'T altro in custodia ^ Delle l^andiere A; qual vedete impresa
Atti noi siamo ; e^nel suo posto'o^gntipo ^ Venga locato. Un ricco a voi
dia doni^ ' Vi sia propizi o, il Giudice , e ; il facondo ‘ Difenda
i dritti vostri .'|loi poeti , Donp possiam far solo di
carmi. 3a più degli altri amare il coro nostro; (71}
Andròniaca dopo ìa rnòrté ^&toré amato sud sposo , r dopo V incendio
di-Trofa-fpssssò for i rn i s uns nm ti alle nozze di Pirro ^ e però
vìsse con ^uosto/s^ssai malinconicà. Teemessa , moglie di Ajace, er^
una schiava y e però, secondo Ovidio y. doveva aver sempre Vanirne
occupato da una grave, tristezza* (711) Da/ Comandante solevansi
affidile^cento sol- dati al Centurione il quale aveva per sua insegna U
9 ramo di vite. Uua grata beltà cott ampie lodi Sappiamo
celebirare , e va fainoso Dì Nemesi per noi, di Cinzia il nome.
(78) E dove nasce, e dove muore il Sole Conobbero Licori., e
chieggon molti Chi sia Corinna nostra. Aggiungi a questo Che son T
insidie ignote a" sacri Vati, Che giova V arte nostra a^ lor
costumi. Kpa ambiziosa voglia, e non desio D’aver ci punge . Noi
sprezziamo il fòro E son graditi a noi V ombra ed il letto. Facili
amiamo ognor con certa fede, £ in vasto incendio, il nostro core
abbrucia. Con placid’arte docile T ingegno Facciamo , e ben s*
adattano co* nostri Studj i postumi. A* Vati aonj, o donne. Siate
indulgènti, che gl^inspira un Nume,. E lor son fauste le pierie uive.
(74) Ci agita un Dio.; abbiam col Cièl commercio;. Ci vien lo
spirto dall* eteree sedi. * Chiedere il pre^o è scelléra^in grande
Ad ottimo Poeta . Oh me infelice. Che scelle raggio tal piti non si
teme Dalle jauciulle • ALmen dissimulate, Nè vi fate veder
tosto rapaci. No , non cadrà nella prevista rete Un novèllo
amatore . Il Cav^aliero (y3) Nemesi fu amata a celebrata da
Tibullo, Cia* zìa da Properzio , tdcori da Gallo , a Ovidio ha^da^
to ne^ suoi versi alla propria amante il nome, di Corinna.
(74) Le Muse si chiamavano le Dive pierie , 0 per^ chi abitarono
nel monte Pierio in Tessaglia , o per-- che vinsero e trasformarono in
gazze le figlie di Pierio.Non reggerà T indomito cavallo Al par di quello
che già al freno è avvezzo* Nè lo stesso sentier batter tu dei Per
adescar la verde gìoventude, E le menti già stabili per gli
anni* QuelP inesperto, che la prima volta Sotto si pone all*
amorose insegne. Che preda nuova nel tuo letto giacque. Te
sol conobbe, e a te sia unito ognora; Si cìnga d’ alte siepi una tal
messe. Schiva d’aver rìvjaì;ta vincerai, S* ei r amor suo con
altra non divide; 1 regni e amor non vogliono compagni. Quel
che invecchiò nell’ amoroso agone. Con prudenza amerà, saprà
soffrire Ciò che invan soffrirla guerrier novello. Non frangerà le
porte, e non furente Fiamma v’ applicherà. Non dell’ amata Farà con
1’ unghie ingiuria al delicato Volto ; e non straccerà della
Fanciulla Le vesti, e non le proprie ; e per dolore Non svellerassi
i crini • Questi eccessi Convengon solo a’ Giovanetti acerbi Caldi
per poca età, per troppo amore. Tranquillo ei soffrirà la cruda
piaga; Qual face inumidita a foco lento Abbrucìerassì, o
quale in giogo alpestre Fresco ramo reciso : è quest* amore Più
certo , è quel più breve e più fecondo. Con sollecita man cogliete i
pomi Che fuggon. Tutto ormai s* insegni; schiuse Son le porte al
nemico ; e siate fide Mentre ingannate altrui. Facil Donzella Puote
mal conservare un lungo amore. Sla la ripulsa rara » e venga
sempre Da lieti scherzi accompagnata • Giaccia Alla porta nrosteso
, alto gridi: Porta crudele ; e molte cose umile Faccia 9 e
molt^ altre minaccioso. Il dolce Noi mal soffriam ; ci sana il succo
amaro; Pere spesso la nave » e fausto ha il vento. Ecco perchè non
amansi le mogli; Seco stanno i mariti a grado loro.
Chiudi la porta 9 e in aspro suon TuBciero Gli dica f entrar non
puoi ; escluso, in seno Di lui per te si desterà l’amore. Deh
riponete i rintuzzati brandi; Con gli acuti si pugni, ch^ io con
l’armi Mie già non temo d’ essere assalito. Mentre ne^ lacci un
amator novello Cade, gli fa sperar xhe del tuo letto Solo godrà ;
poscia il rivai conosca E i divisi piacer ; senza quest’ arte Amor
illanguidisce • Il generoso Destrier,se venga dal suo career
schiuso. Corre velocemente , se il preceda Altri nel corso, o se lo
segua . Estinto Ancor che sembri l’amoroso foco Con nuova ingiuria
si riaccende, ed io, Lo deggio confessar, soltanto offeso Nutro r
amor . Non troppo manifesta Sia la causa del duolo ; e ansioso creda
' L’ amante che maggior fia ancor l’offesa Di quello che gli è noto
; ed or l’inciti L’aspra custodia di fallace servo, n geloso rigore
or del marito; E men grato il piacer senza contrasto Èeiichè tu sii
di Taide più. }asciya,(75) Fingi timpri ; e ancor che per la porta
Meglio il possa introdar , fa eh’egli venga Dalla finestra, e nel tuo
volto i segni Mostra di Donna da timor sorpresa» Venga
l’ancella frettolosa, e dica: Ah siam perduti 111 trepido
Garzone Allora ascondi; col timor si debbe Mischiar piacer sicuro,
onde 1’apprezzi» Come il marito accorto e il vigli servo Si possano
ingannare i’avea taciuto* Tema una Sposa il suo Consorte^ e
viva Certa che altri la guarda ; è ciò decente; Vuol ciò il padoi:,
la legge, e F equitade. Chi soffrirà che custodita sii Tu , che or
la verga del Prétor redense? (76) Odiose vuoi ingann^kT, miei sacri
carmi» T’ osservio puro occhi miglior di quei (77) Ch’ebbe il
guardiano d’io , sii risoluta, £ tesserai l’inganno • E puote
invero Chi t’ ha in custodia a te vietar che scriva Se non si vieta
a te di gire al bagno? E se potrà, de’tuoi segreti a parte,
(75) Terenzio ha dato il nome di Taide ad una donna lasciva, che
forma la parte principale della sua Commedia intitolata /^Eunuco.
(76) Parla qui il poeta delle donne schiave y che divenivano libere
quando il Pretore aveva toccato al» le medesime il capo con una vèrga
detta yindiqta , e che occupavano nelle case delle Matrone Romane
unposto corrispondente a quello delle nostre Cameriere. C77)
(Giunone diede, cento occhi ad A^go custode d'io, perchè potesse
soddisfare esattamente al suo incarico, ma il Dio Mercurio Pàìsdpì col
suono del* la lira , e gli recise la testa Recar V ancella i foglj
ricoperti Nel caldo seno da una larga fascia^ O nasconderli
avvinti infra le gambe, O sotto i piedi f Se a tè ciò il
custode Vieti , P ancella porgerà le spalle Di carta invece, e
porterà su queste li^amorose tue cifre impresse. Un foglio Con
fresco latte scrìtto inganna 1’ occhio^ Con la polve l’aspergi del
carbone, * £ legger lo potrai • Del paro inganna Lettera pura
in cui sia stato scritto Con la punta del lino inumidito, E
le note ‘segrete incise porta . (jB) Intento Acrisie a custodir la
Figlia, (*^ 9 ) In opra pose ogni più esatta cura: Eppur col
suo delitto il fece eli’ avo. E che farà il Custode, se
cotanti Sono in Roma Teatri, e se a suo grado (^8) Non mancano
a^dì nostri degli inchiostri sìrw^ patiei y che superano ne^loro effetti
la virtù degli antichi. Con un^ oncia di Ut or girlo y e cinque
d^ace» to stillato si fa un composto , che chiamasi aceto di
Satarno. Con questo si scrioe sulla carta bianca , e quando è asciutta
non si scorgono in alcun modo i caratteri. Si sparge quindi sopra la
carta una picco^ la porzione d* un liquore fatto con un* oncia d* or
pig¬ mento e due once di calce viva sciolta nell* acqua ; éd allora
compariscono i caratteri d*un coloraperfet’- tamente nero. Il
calore e la luce coloriscono altresì i caratteri scritti con alcune
soluzioni metalliche allungate con Vacqua , cioè con quella dell* oro ,
dell* argento , e principalmenie del bismuto. La tintura di galla è
pure ì^n inchiostro simpatico , purché si faccia passar sopra di essa una
qualunque marziale dissoluzione, ( 79 } Annota (a del lÀb. Presente
Può rimirar le corse de* destrieri f Quando nel tempio d’Isi assister
puote (8c) Al concerto de* sistri, e p^pte in altri Lochi ella gire
» ove l’ingresso poi È vietato a’ compagni ? Se da’ templi Della
Dea Buona può fuggir gli sguardi (8i) D’ogni uom fuor di quel eh’ ella
desia f lyientre il Custode fuor del bagno serba Gli abbigliamenti
della sua Padrona, Se può mrtivo nel; sicuro bagno Celar 1*
Aàotante ? Se ove 1’ uopo il chiegga Per finto morbo giacerà 1’amica,
, O se per vero , a lei cederà il letto? . Quando la chiave
adultera col suo Medesmo nome cosa far c’insegna^ Nè sol la
porta dà il bramato ingresso? S’inganna pur con molto vin la
cura Di vigile Custode , ancor che colte Vengan l’uve nell’aspro
ispano giogo. (8a) Vi sono ancora i farmaci che al sonno Aggravan
le pupille quasi vinte Dalla notte letea • Nè mal trattiene La non
ignara ancella l’importuno Con le tarde delìzie, end’ ella possa
Star col suo vago quanto più le piace. Che far tante parole, e cosi
lievi .Gli uomini non potevano interpénire nel Tenu» pio d'Iside ,
quando le donne celebravano le sue fo» ste col serbarsi , almeno
apparentemente, easte per molti giorni, (81) Era agli uomini
vietato V ingresso nel Tem» pio della Dea Buona o sia di Cibele.
(8fl) Denota il Poeta il vin poco generoso, che i Romani facevano
venire dalia Laleiania in gna provincia di Spagna* Porger
precetti , se con picciol dono Si corrompe il Custode ? A me lo
credi. Gli Uomini e i Dei guadagnansi co’doni, £ i doni placan pur
lo stesso Giove. Che farà il saggio , se de’ doni ancora Gode
lo stolto ? Ricevuti i doni, Si farà muto anco il marito
istesso. Per tutto Panno guadagnar si debbo Una volta il
Custode , e quelle mani Che un di vi diede, vi darà sovente.
Feci querela , e l’ho ferma in pensiero Che temer si dovessero i
compagni; Nè diretta soltanto all’ uomo è questa. Se
credula sarai, carpirann’altre 1 tuoi piaceri, e avrai cacciato il
lepre Per esse. Quella, che t’appresta il letto, E che
officiósa a te concede il loco. Giacque più. volte , a me lo credi,
meco. Nè troppo bella sia l’ancella tua; Sovente meco
fe’della padrona Ella le veci. Ah ! dove ora mi lascio Io stolto
trasportar ? Perchè contrasto Col petto inerme contro il mio
nemico, Ed io da me medesmo mi tradiscof Come pigliar si
debba al cacciatore L’auge! non mostra y ed a’ nocivi cani Come
inseguirla non la cerva insegna. L’ utll vostro mi piace : io fedelmente
Vi spiegherò i precetti , ed alle donne Di Lenno io porgerò contro il mio
fato Lè Donne di Lenno in una notte, uccimo i loro mariti , e
però Ovidio sotto il nome di tende quelle che con gli uomini sono troppo
severe Sà Da me stesso il coltello. Ahi fate in modo ( Ardua
non è V impresa ) che crediamo D’ esser amati , mentre ogutìno
crede Farcii ciò che desia. La donna miri Con infocato sguardo il
fido amante, Tragga dal sen sospir profondo, e chiegga Perchè sì
tardi venne. Aggiunga il pianto, E finga gelosia della rivale,
£ gli percota con le mani il volto. Tosto vivrà sicuro, e nel
suo petto Facile nutrirà per te pietade, E dirà fra se stesso
: ah si consuma Questa per me d*amore i e specialmente Se lo
specchio consulta, e colto sia, ^ D’innamorar ei penserà le
Dee. Ma a te chiunque sii, grave disturbo Non arrechin le
ingiurie, e sbigottita Non ti mostrar, della rivale il nome Allor
che ascolti, e facile credenza Non presta aMetti altrui. Ah quanto
nuoccia Il creder facilmente, a te lo dica Quello che adesso
narrerò di Proori. ( 84 ) Scorre vicino del fiorito Imetto ^
A’ be’ purpurei colli un sacro fonte. Di cui le sponde ognor
fan grate e molli Verdi cespnglj . Ivi non alta selva (84)
Procri figlia d* Eretteo Re Atene per sos- petto di gelosia si portò
segretamente nelle selve e né* boschi ad osservar Cefalo figlio di
Mercurio , sua Sposo , ed ottimo cacciatore . Mentre egli prendeva
ri- .poso in un ombroso colletto , essa celandosi dietro alle siepi
, mosse disgraziatamente le foghe degli alberi» Credè Cefalo che s*
ascondesse fra quelle una fiera y e però vi scagliò una saetta che gli
uccise la lua dì* letta consorte. Un l^co forma; gli arboscelli
l'erba Ricoprono, e un soave odore esalano II rosmarin, l’alloro,
il negro mirto. Non il tenne citiso, il colto pino, E il
fragil tamarisco ivi già manca^ E non folto di foglie il busso.
Scosse Da dolci aeffiretti « e da salubre Aura treman le foglie
mnltiformi, £ le cime dell^ erbe. Ama la quiete Cefalo.
Abbandonati i servi e i cani. Ivi stanco il Garaon spesso
s’adagia; Solea cantar : mobil auretta , vieni Onde t’accolga nel
mio seno, e allevj Il cocente càlor. Le intese voci Da un
malaccorto far recate intere Alle timide orecchie della moglie.
Tosto che Procri il nome adì dell’aura, Qnal fosse uua rivale, a
terra cadde; Ammutolissi pel dolor ; nel volto Impallidid^ come le
tarde foglie. Se colte sieno dalle viti l’uve. Sogliono
impallidir dal verno offese, O i maturi cotogni, i di cui
rami Piegansi, o le corniole ancor non atte A* cibi nostri. Tosto
che; rinvenne. Straccia dal petto suo le tenui vesti. Con V
unghie impiaga le innocenti guance. Jndugie non conosce, e qual
Baccante Mossa dal J'irso , furibonda vola Per le pubbliche vie,
sparsa i capelli. Ma già vicina, in una valle lascia I suoi
seguaci ; intrepida e furtiva Nel bosco con piè tacito s’innoltra.
QuaPera il tuo consiglio, allor che stolta O Procri, t’ascondeyi ; e quale
ardore NelPattonito séno allor ti corset Già tu pensavi di
sorprender l’aura Qualunque fosse, e di mirar co’proprj Occhj P
infedeltà del tuo Consorte. Quivi d’esser venuta ora Rincresce;
Or la rivale di mirar ti piace, Ed or ti penti ^ opposti
affetti in seno Destan tumulto. A creder la costringe ( Che quel
che tenie ognor crede l’amante ) L’accusatore, il loco , il nome.
Quando SulP erbe vide impresse Torme umane, Balzolle il cor nel
pauroso petto. Già T ombre brevi aVea il meriggio strette, E
in spazio egual giaceva l’Occaso e l’Orto, Allor che di Mercurio il
figlio Cefalo Dalle selve ritorna, e T innainmate Guance delTacque
di quel fonte asperge. O Procri, tu t’ascondi ansiosa ; ei giace
Sull’ erbe consuete, e vieni disse, ZefHro fucile, o molle curetta
vieni. Quando conobbe il dolce error del nome, AlT infelice il cor
tornò nel seno, E il primiero color sul volto suo. S’alza,
movendo il corpo e move ancora Le frondi circostanti ; e fra le braccia
Va per gittarsi del marito • Mosso Credendo quel rumor da qualche
belva, Imprudente la man slancia sull’arco. Ed ave i dardi
già nella sua destra. Infelice che fai? non è una fiera, rw Deponi
ì dardi.... Oimè la tua consorte Dalle saette tue giace trafitta.
Oh me infelice i eéclamà ; in petto amico Vibri il tuo dardOi
o sposo. Ah che fa sempre Da te questo trafitto! Io pria del tempo
La morte trovo « noa offesa almeno Da un rivale .^h farà ciò la
terra, Ov* io riposi, a nae cara e leggiera. Fra
quest’aure ^ che odiai sol per un nome. Già spazierà il mipspirto.. oh
Dio!•• vacillo... Mi chiuda i lumi quella destra amata. Le
membra moribonde egli sostiene Nel mèsto seno, e la crudel ferita Con
le lagrime asperge^ Ella già spira, E la bocca del misero
marito Lo spirto accoglie che dal petto incauto Deir infelice,
Porcri alfine eeala. Ma sul sentier si torni. lo debbo adesso
Agir palesemente , onde il naviglio Indebolito tocchi i porti suoi.
Ch* io ti scorga a conviti aspetti forse, e ch’io ti guidi in questo
pure attendi? Non t’affrettar; vien tardi, e già sia posta La
lacerna i e decente i passi volgi. Grato è a Vener Findugio, e molto
giova. Benché bratta tu sii, sembrerai bella, che coprirà la notte i
tuoi difetti. Prendi co’ diti il cibo; havvi pur l’arte nel modo di
cibarsi; con l’immonda mano cerca non ungerti la faccia; nò mangiar
prima in casa, ma t’astieni dal farlo allor che avrai mangiato meno di
quel che il ventre tuo capè, e tu brami. Paride, se veduto avesse
Elena cibarsi avidamente, avria per lei nutrito sdegno, e detto fra
se stesso: Ah fui ben stolto nel rapir costei! Meno disdice a donna
il ber, che Bacco £ di Venere il figlio uniti vanno. Sì beva pur fin
che il permetta il capo, E Talma e ì piè siaxi atti a* loro nfficj
, nè raddoppiati sembrinti gli oggetti. Donna che giaccia per
soverchio vino, £ turpe, e di soffrir merta ogni assalto.
Sparecchiata la mensa, è gran periglio cadervi per il sonno; in mezzo a
quésto Molte si soglìon far cose impudiche. Io di stender più
innanzi i^niiei precetti Sento rossor. La figlia dionea Mi disse:
utile è a noi quelPòpra ìstessa che in se desta vergogna. A voi si
sveli. Donne, ogni fatto. I varj atteggiamenti Noti vi sien, che a
tutte non conviene la medesma figura. Tu che sei pel volto insigne,
giacerai supina quella che ha bello il tergo, il tergo mostri. Recava
Melanion sulle sue spalle le gambe d’Atalanta; se sian belle. Si dee
imitare allora un tale esempio. Porti il cavai pìccola donna ; avéa statura
immensa la tebana sposa; Suirettoreo cavai però non giacque. Quella che
può mostrare un lungo fianco prema con le ginocchia il letto e alquante ritorca
la cervice chi le membra Ha giovanili, e senza macchie il seno mentre l’uomo
sta in piedi, ella corcata giaccia obliqua sul letto nè già turpe
Credete scioglier qual Baccante il crine. (OS) XeSpoifk tsUoa ^ 4fl4rQmcé
mQglk E ondeggiando i capei, piegate il collo. Tu pure, a cui la pronuba
Lucana macchiò il ventre di rugh , imita il l’arte Quando combatte sul cavai
fugace, Ben mille son di Venere le foggie, ma la piò facil, di minor
fatica È quella, in cui semisupina giace Sul destro fianco, I
Tripodi febei, O il cornigero Ammon cosa piò vera Non conteran di quel che or
la mia Musa- se Parte , che ci costa un lungo studio, merita fè,
credete, ancor che i carmi Nostri eccedano forse ogni credensà
Venere abbrugi le'midolle e l’ossa delle donne, e sia caro ad
ambedue Lo scambievol piacer. Un mormorio dolce, e parole lunsinghiere
e grate non manchino, nè tacita si stia in mezzo ascari scherzi
unqua la donna, tu , cui d’amor negò natura il gaudio, finger lo devi con
mendace suono; Lucina è un nome di Giunone, la quale presiede a matrìmon)
ed apparti, i Greci dopo d^ a^er ointo i Persiani nella battaglia
di Platea, levarono una decima suUe spoglie per fare un Tripode d’oro
eonsagrato ad Apollo, Ateneo lo chiama il tripode della verità perchè
si ritrovavano verissimi gl’oracoli di questo dio, Ammone è un
soprannome di Giove, Quinto Curzio fa menzione del magnifico Tempio che gli fu
edificato nella Libia, La sua statua avea la figura d’a- liete , e però
si chiama cornigero Ammone. Dava essa de certi oracoli a chi la
consultava , ed era a guisa d’un automa, che crollava la testa per
additare a sacerdoti la strada, che dovean fare quando la portavano in
processione. Ben infelice e miseranda donna È quella, che a sa
stessa ìnntil tragga unutile pèr l’uomo i giorni suoi. Mentre e#ò
fingerai, che non ti scofira Cerca, é col moto, fin con gl’occhi
stessi procura d’ingannar. Faccian palese un frequente respiro e
dolci accenti quello che giova. Termini novelli Sa la donna
inventare in quegristanti quella, che chiede dopo il gaudio i doni, non
sia molesta almen con le preghiere. Nè il pieno giorno introdurrai nel
talamo chè giova a voi tener del corpo vostro molte cose celate. Ha fine
il gioco. È tempo ornai di scendere da’Oigni che sul collo guidaro il nostro
cocchio, e come fero i giovanetti un giorno, così la turba delle donne
scrìva sulle spoglie, Nason ci fu maestro. Gianni Carchia.
Keywords: ars amandi, erotica, il bello, la comunicazione dei primitivi,
Ovidio, arte amatoria. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Grice e Carchia” – The
Swimming-Pool Library.
Grice e Cardano: l’implicatura
conversazionale del valore civico di Melanippo -- Caritone -- the tasteful
Milanese maschi – prospero -- filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza (Pavia).
Filosofo italiano. Grice: “I’m sure Cardano does not mean chance by aleae! It’s
a Roman notion, not an Arabic one!” Grice: “Cardano is a fascinating
philosopher, but then so is I [sic]!” Grice: “My faavourite philosophical topic
by Cardano is what he calls, well, his Italian translators call – recall that
Italian philosophy is written in the ‘learned’! – ‘gioco d’azzardo’, ludo alaea
– which is what conversation is – what is conversation is not a game of
azzardo? But Cardano also refutes all that Malcolm says about ‘dreaming,’ never
mind Freud – Italians are obsessed with a male sleeping: Rinaldo, Tasso,
Botticelli (“sleeping Mars”), not to mention the search for the Etruscan
equivalent to ‘oneiron,’ the god – one of my most precious souvenirs is a
little medal of Cardano: not so much for his very Roman nose (charming as it
is) but for the backside, which represents Oneiron, indeed, aong the ladies!” Poliedrica
figura del Rinascimento. Riconosciuto come il fondatore della probabilità,
coefficiente binomiale e teorema binomial. A lui si deve anche la parziale
invenzione dell’ implicatura e della serratura, della sospensione cardanicache
permette il moto libero, ad esempio, delle bussole nautiche ed è alla base del
funzionamento del giroscopioe della riscoperta del giunto cardanico. Animos
scio esse immortales, modum nescio. So che l'anima è immortale, ma non ho capito
come funzioni la cosa. Figlio del nobile Fazio, un giurista esperto nella
matematica tanto da essere consultato da da Vinci su alcuni problemi di
geometria. Fazio conobbe a Milano la vedova, madre di tre figli, Chiara
Micheri (o de Micheriis) di cui s'innamora iniziando con questa, che vive con
la famiglia del defunto marito, una relazione clandestina che porta al
concepimento di un quarto figlio. Per non essere coinvolto nello scandalo prega
un suo amico di Pavia, il patrizio Isidoro Resta, affinché assumesse Chiara
come governante nella sua casa. Prima che lei partorisse, i suoi tre figli
morirono quasi contemporaneamente di peste e lei tenta allora di abortire,
senza riuscirci, del nascituro che ebbe il nome di Gerolamo e che lasciò scritto
nella sua autobiografia. Dopo che mia madre tenta senza risultato dei preparati
per abortire, vengo alla luce a Pavia. Come morto, infatti, sono nato, anzi
sono stato strappato al suo grembo, con i capelli neri e ricciuti. Il bambino contrasse
la peste dalla sua balia, che ne morì, e fu allevato da altre nutrici. E
trasferito a Milano dal padre che anda ad abitare con lui solo quando ha solo sette
anni, età in cui prese ad accompagnare il padre nei suoi viaggi d'affari.
Essendo delicato di salute, si ammala gravemente. Solo dopo una lunga
convalescenza poté riprendere a viaggiare con il padre dedicandosi nel
frattempo agli studi di filosofia, nei quali ha modo di eccedere per le sue
doti quando puo iscriversi a Pavia e Mantova per studiare filosofia, contrariamente
ai desideri del padre che avrebbe preferito avviarlo agli studi giuridici.
Lasciata Milano in preda alla peste e sconvolta dalla guerra francese, si
trasfere a Padova e si laurea a Venezia. E oggetto dell'astio che molti tutori
hanno nei confronti di quello tutee geniale ma dal carattere scontroso e talora
offensive. Sono poco rispettoso e non ho peli sulla lingua, soprattutto mi
lascio trascinare dall'ira, al punto che poi mi dispiace e me ne vergogno. Riconosco
che tra i miei vizi ce n'è uno molto grande e tutto particolare: quello di non
riuscire a trattenermianzi ne gododal dire a chi mi ascolta ciò che gli risulta
sgradevole udire. Persevero in questo difetto coscientemente e volontariamente,
pur sapendo quanti nemici da solo mi abbia procurator. Nel frattempo a Milano e
morto il padre che ha regolarizzato la sua convivenza sposando la madre del
filosofo. Non potendo tornare a Milano per l'epidemia e la guerra, prese
dimora a Piove di Sacco. Esercita la sua professione a Gallarate. Ottenne
la cattedra per l'insegnamento della filosofia presso le scuole Piattine di
Milano, dove aveva insegnato anche il padre. La sua fama di esperto dottore si
accrebbe per aver risanato alcuni membri della famiglia Borromeo. Dovette
rifiutare alcuni incarichi di prestigio perché non retribuiti fino a quando e ammesso
nel Collegio dei medici di Milano. Accetta di ricoprire la cattedra di
filosofia a Pavia, rifiutando le offerte che gli venivano reiterate dal papa Paolo
III. Cura, con esiti positivi, l'arcivescovo di Edimburgo John Hamilton, malato
d'asma. Intuì probabilmente la natura allergica della malattia proibendo a
Hamilton di usare cuscini e materassi di piume. Per aumentare la sua fama volle
fare l'oroscopo all'arcivescovo e al re, e lesse nelle stelle un futuro radioso
per entrambi. Hamilton fu impiccato quasi subito dai riformatori. Il re muore
di tubercolosi. Rifiuta le prestigiose e ben retribuite offerte del re di
Francia e della regina di Scozia. Colpito da un doloroso avvenimento
riguardante il figlio Giovanni Battista, medico anche lui, che, nonostante gli
avvertimenti del padre, aveva voluto sposare una donna povera e di cattivi
costume. Per necessità economiche il figlio coabita dai parenti della moglie
avviando una convivenza caratterizzata dalla nascita successiva di tre figli e
da continui litigi dovuti anche alle infedeltà della moglie che egli decise di
uccidere, con la complicità di una serva, facendole mangiare una focaccia
avvelenata con l'arsenico. Arrestato subito per uxoricidio, il figlio confessa
il delitto e dopo un veloce processo, nonostante la difesa con tutti i mezzi
messa in atto dal padre, fu condannato alla decapitazione. Gerolamo, convinto
che la durezza della condanna fosse dovuta all'invidia dei suoi colleghi, per
sfuggire alle malevole voci che lo accusavano di intrattenere rapporti illeciti
con i suoi tutee, si trasfere a Bologna. Venne ulteriormente amareggiato dalla
condotta scapestrata del figlio Aldo che lo diffama per tutta la città e che
arriva a derubarlo così che il padre dovette denunciarlo alle autorità che
espulsero il figlio dal territorio bolognese. A questa disgrazia si aggiunse
inaspettata la notizia che si stava preparando contro di lui un'accusa di
eresia tanto che il cardinale Giovanni Morone gli consigliò di lasciare il
pubblico insegnamento della filosofia. Questa misura prudenziale non valse però
a salvare Gerolamo che fu arrestato per eresia assieme al suo tutee Rodolfo
Silvestri che non volle abbandonare il tutore. Non si conoscono le accuse
che gli erano rivolte dall'Inquisizione. Tuttavia si era distinto per una certa
imprudenza nei confronti della Chiesa, governata dal severo Papa Pio V, per
aver compilato un oroscopo di Gesù, la cui vita così sarebbe stata decisa dalle
stelle, scritto l'encomio di Nerone, persecutore dei cristiani, e soprattutto
per i suoi confidenziali rapporti con i circoli protestanti frequentati dal suo
tuteei, dal genero e dall'editore e tipografo dei suoi libri. Nonostante le
testimonianze a suo favore di quasi tutti i suoi tutee, C. fu messo in carcere
e poi agli arresti domiciliari sino a quando la Sacra Congregazione tramite
l'inquisitore di Bologna gli impose la professione dell'abiura prima in forma
grave (de vehementi) coram populo e successivamente in forma meno infamante (coram
congregationem). Si sottopose docilmente alla abiura promettendo in una
lettera a papa Pio V di non insegnare più pubblicamente filosofia (la cattedra
all'università gli era stata intanto tolta) e di non pubblicare altre
opere. Lasciata Bologna Cardano si trasfere, sotto la diretta protezione
di Pio V, a Roma dove fu ben accolto ma gli fu negata una pensione che gli fu
invece assegnata da Gregorio XIII che era stato suo tutee a Bologna..E ammesso
al Collegio romano. Si dedica alla composizione della sua autobiografia De vita
propria. Il punto focale della sua filosofia è il concetto rinascimentale di “uomo
universale" che dà alla sua ricerca della verità un contenuto
enciclopedico. Scrive più di duecento opere che solo in parte furono pubblicate
nel XVI secolo e che, altrettanto parzialmente, confluirono nei dieci volumi della
monumentale “Opera omnia” dove si trattano temi di metafisica, omosessualita,
mascolinita, il machio, il maschile, la medicina, scienze naturali, matematica,
astronomia, scienze occulte, tecnologia. Egli, che si occupa anche della
interpretazione dei sogni, della chiromanzia, della numerologia, del
paranormale rende difficile distinguere nella sua filosofia il contenuti
moderno del sapere dalle tradizioni metafisiche e magiche del passato. Vuole
arrivare a una sistemazione unitaria della molteplicità dei saperi così che la
nostra incerta conoscenza eviterebbe la confusione se potesse discendere
dall'uno ai molti. Ma questo obiettivo, di origine neo-platonica, sfugge però
all'uomo il quale allora è preferibile che occupi il suo intelletto in quei
campi dove riesce, quasi come un dio creatore o ‘genitore’ – o ingegnero, a
fare le cose. Questo avviene nell’aritmetica che si incarna nell'esperienza in
un rapporto astratto-concreto la cui definizione ancora non è in grado di
elaborare Dopo aver analizzato nel “De subtilitate” i molteplici principi
delle cose naturali e artificiali, si rivolge allo studio di tutto l'universo e
delle sue parti (De rerum varietate), che concepisce come legate da sim-patia
(attrazione) e anti-patia (repulsione) fra gli astri e l'uomo) e connessioni
che consentono al filosofo, che conosce il linguaggio della natura e gli
effetti degli influssi astrali sulla vita sessuale umana, di compiere quei
"miracoli naturali" che sono le magie, di elaborare previsioni
astrologiche e di stendere gli oroscopi delle religioni come quello dedicato a
Cristo. Il contributo in matematica Noto soprattutto per i suoi
contributi all'aritmetica, pubblica le soluzioni dell'equazione cubica e
dell'equazione quartica nella sua “Ars magna”. Parte della soluzione
dell'equazione cubica gli era stata comunicata da Tartaglia. Successivamente
questi sostenne che C. aveva giurato di non renderla pubblica e di rispettarla
come di sua origine. Si avvia così una disputa che dura un decennio. C.
sostenne di averne pubblicato il testo solo quando era venuto a sapere che il
Tartaglia avrebbe appreso la soluzione dalla voce dal bolognese Scipione del
Ferro. La soluzione di Tartaglia, pur essendo successiva a quella di Scipione
Dal Ferro (comunque mai pubblicata), risulta essere indipendente da questa. La
soluzione della equazione cubica è detta comunque di C.-Tartaglia. L'equazione
quartica venne invece risolta da Lodovico Ferrari, un tutee di C.. Nella
prefazione dell'“Ars Magna” vengono accreditati sia Tartaglia che Ferrari. Nei
suoi sviluppi delle soluzioni occasionalmente si serve del concetto di numero
complesso, ma senza riconoscerne l'importanza come invece saprà fare Bombelli. Nell'ambito
della scienza medica, l'esempio di Vesalio, che negli stessi anni aveva
contestato l'anatomia galenica, spinse C. a definire Galeno un cattivo
interprete di Ippocrate. Le sue critiche a Galeno erano comunque presentate
come parte integrante di un tentativo di recuperare una tradizione ancora più
antica e, si presumeva, più autentica. Fu il primo a descrivere la febbre
tifoide. Venne invitato in Scozia a curare l'Arcivescovo di Sant'Andrea che
soffe di asma probabilmente d'origine allergica. Seguendo i precetti di
Maimonide riusce a guarirlo utilizzando delle cure modernissime per l'epoca:
eliminare piume e polvere e mantenere una dieta controllata. Al ritorno dalla
Scozia si ferma a Londra, dove incontrò il re d'Inghilterra per il quale
redasse un oroscopo secondo il quale prospetta Edoardo VI una lunga vita
seppure turbata da alcune malattie. La sua fama di si diffuse in Inghilterra
tanto da interessare Shakespeare che nella "Tempesta" rappresenta un
personaggio molto simile a C. ed inoltre una prova della sua perdurante
popolarità può essere vista nel fatto che un’edizione del suo ‘De Consolatione’
è proprio il libro che Amleto tiene in mano quando recita il suo celeberrimo
monologo ‘Essere o non essere’. De subtilitate e il libro che Amleto tiene in
mano all'inizio del secondo atto, quando Polonio gli domanda cosa stia leggendo
e lui risponde: "parole, parole, parole". Progetta inoltre svariati
meccanismi tra i quali: la serratura a combinazione; la sospensione
cardanica, consistente in tre anelli concentrici collegati da snodi, in grado
di ospitare una bussola o un giroscopio, garantendo la libertà di movimento
dello strumento; il giunto cardanico, dispositivo che consente di trasmettere
un moto rotatorio da un asse a un altro di diverso orientamento e viene tuttora
usato in milioni di veicoli. Ma pare fosse già conosciuto, anche se porta il
suo nome perché appare nella sua opera De Rerum Varietate in una illustrazione navale. L'invenzione di
questo tipo di giunto in realtà risale almeno al III secolo a.C., ad opera di
scienziati greci come Filone di Bisanzio, che nella sua opera Belopoiika lo
descrive chiaramente. Egli dette svariati contributi anche all'idrodinamica. Sostene
l'impossibilità del moto perpetuo, con l'eccezione dei corpi celesti. Pubblica
anche due opere enciclopediche di scienze naturali che contengono un'ampia
varietà di invenzioni, fatti ed enunciati afferenti all'occultismo e alla
superstizione: il De Subtilitate e successivamente il De Varietate. Introdusse
la griglia cardanica, un procedimento crittografico.A Cardano è attribuito
anche il gioco rompicapo descritto nel De subtilitate, ma probabilmente
risalente a un periodo più antico, chiamato Gli anelli di C.. Altre opere: Della
sua vita avventurosa e molto travagliata, rimane testimonianza nella sua
autobiografia. Ebbe spesso problemi di denaro e per cavarsela si dedicò ai giochi
d'azzardo per i quali ha una vera passione di cui si pente. Così ho dilapidato
contemporaneamente la mia reputazione, il mio tempo e il mio denaro. (zeugma –
segnato da ‘dilapidare’ – denaro, dilapidare il suo tempo, dilapidare la sua
reputazione. Pubblica un saggio sulle probabilità nel gioco, “De ludo aleae”
che contiene la prima trattazione sistematica della probabilità, insieme a una
sezione dedicata a metodi per barare efficacemente. Oltre alla produzione
dialettica, di carattere più strettamente filosofico sono invece il De
subtilitate e il De rerum varietate, ampie raccolte delle sue osservazioni
empiriche e delle sue speculazioni occultistiche. Della sua produzione
filosofica sterminata possono considerarsi come le opere più importanti:
De malo recentiorum medicorum usu libellus, Venezia (medicina). Practica
arithmetice et mensurandi singularis, Milano. Artis magnae sive de regulis
algebraicis liber unus (conosciuta anche come Ars magna), Nuremberg. De
immortalitate. Opus novum de proportionibus. Contradicentium medicorum. De
subtilitate rerum, Norimberga, editore Johann Petreius (fenomeni naturali). De
libris propriis, De restitutione temporum et motuum coelestium; De duodecim
geniturarum -- commento astrologico a dodici nascite illustri. De rerum
varietate, Basilea, editore Heinrich Petri. Fenomeni naturali. De signo. De
causis, signis, ac locis Morborum. Bologna. Opus novum de proportionibus
numerorum, motuum, ponderum, sonorum, aliarumque rerum mensurandarum. Item de
aliza regula, Basilea (matematica). De vita propria. Proxeneta (politica).
Metoscopia libris tredecim, et octingentis faciei humanae eiconibus
complexa, Liber de ludo aleae, postumo (probabilità). Le sue opere vennero
raccolte e pubblicate a Lione in 10
volumi. L’Encomio di Nerone. A lui è dedicato il cratere lunare Cardano e
un asteroide. È intitolato a lui l'Istituto "G. Cardano" della sua città natale,
nel cui cortile interno è posta una scultura che rappresenta il giunto
cardanico, nonché infine l'omonimo collegio universitario pavese. La
blockchain "Cardano" (ADA) prende il suo nome, in quanto basata su un
approccio scientifico e matematico. Della mia vita. Somniorum synesiorum omnis
generis insomnia explicantes (Basilea). tti del Convegno, Castello Visconti di
San Vito, Somma Lombardo, Varese ed. Cardano); Università Bocconi. Equazione di
terzo grado" Il Rinascimento. Omeopatia
e allergie, Tecniche Nuove); Cardano, Edizioni Cardano, Il Prospero della
"Tempesta” somiglia tanto a Cardano
in Corriere. La tecnologia scientifica, in La rivoluzione dimenticata: il
pensiero scientifico greco e la scienza moderna, Feltrinelli Editore); Il libro
della mia vita, Cerebro editore); Della mia vita, Alfonso Ingegno, Serra e Riva
editori, Milano). La formula segreta. Il duello matematico che infiammò
l'Italia del Rinascimento. ileae, per Ludouicum Lucium); “De propria vita”
(Milano, Sonzogno). Lugduni, sumptibus Ioannis Antonii Huguetan & Marci
Antonii Ravaud. Aforismi (Milano, Xenia). Palingenesi. Dizionario biografico
degli italiani. Il filosofo quantistico. L’avventure di Cardano, filosofo e
giocatore d'azzardo (Bollati Boringhieri, Torino Edizione); “La mia vita” (Milano,
Luni). Che sfortuna essere un genio. Indice delle Opera omnia Volume
1 Frontespizio Lettera dedicatoria Praefatio Vita
C. per Gabrielem Naudaeum Testimonia Elenchus
generalis Index librorum tomi primi Previlege du roy 1De
vita propria. De libris propriis. De Socratis studio. Oratio ad I. Alciatum
Cardinalem sive Tricipitis Geryonis aut Cerberi canis. Actio in Thessalicum
medicum. Neronis encomium. Podagrae encomium. Mnemosynon. De
orthographia De ludo aleae De uno Hyperchen. Dialectica Contradictiones
logicae Norma vitae consarcinata, sacra vocata Proxeneta De
praeceptis ad filios De optimo vitae genere De sapientia De
summo bono De consolatione Dialogus Hieronymi Cardani et Facii C.
ipsius patris Dialogus Antigorgias seu de recta vivendi ratione Dialogus
Tetim seu de humanis consiliis Dialogus Guglielmus seu de morte De minimis
et propinquis Hymnus seu canticum ad Deum De utilitate ex adversis
capienda De natura Theonoston seu de tranquilitate Theonoston
seu de vita producenda Theonoston seu de animi
immortalitate Theonoston seu de contemplatione Theonoston seu
hyperboraeorum historia De immortalitate animorum De secretis De
gemmis et coloribus De aqua De vitali aqua seu de aethere De
aceti natura Problemata Se la qualità può trapassare di subbietto in
subbietto Discorso del vacuo De fulgure De rerum varietate De
subtilitate In calumniatorem librorum de subtilitate (Archivio) Indice
rerum De numerorum proprietatibus Practica arithmeticae Libellus qui
dicitur, Computus minor Ars magna Ars magna arithmeticae De
aliza regula Sermo de plus et minus Geometriae
encomium Exaereton mathematicorum De proportionibus Operatione
della linea Della natura de principii et regole musicali De
restitutione temporum et motuum coelestium De providentia ex anni
constitutione Aphorismorum astronomicorum segmenta septem In Cl.
Ptolemaei de astrorum iudiciis De septem erraticarum stellarum
qualitatibus atque viribus. De iudiciis geniturarum De exemplis centum
geniturarum Geniturarum exempla De interrogationibus De
revolutionibus De supplemento almanach Somniorum
synesiorum Astrologiae encomium Medicinae encomium De sanitate
tuenda Contradicentium medicorum De usu ciborum De causis,
signis ac locis morborum De urinis Ars curandi parva De methodo
medendi De cina radice De sarza parilia Disputationes per
epistolas liber unus De venenis In librum Hippocratis de alimento
commentaria In librum Hippocratis de aere, aquis et locis
commentaria In septem aphorismorum Hippocratis commentaria In Hippocratis
coi prognostica commentaria In librum Hippocratis de septimestri partu
commentaria Examen aegrorum Hippocratis Consilia De
dentibus De rationali curandi ratione De facultatibus
medicamentorum De morbo regio De morbis articularibus Floridorum
libri sive commentarii in Principem Hasen Avicenna Vita Ludovici
Ferrarii Vita Andreae Alciati De arcanis aeternitatis (Archivio)
10.2Politices seu Moralium liber unus Elementa Graeca inventione De
naturalibus viribus De musica Artis arithmeticae tractatus de
integris (Archivio) 10.8Expositio Anatomiae Mundini In libros Hippocratis
de victu in acutis commentariaIn libros epidemiorum Hippocratis
commentaria De epilepsia De apoplexia De humanis civilibus
successionibus (Paralipomena) De humana perfectione
(Paralipomena) Peri thaumason seu de admirandis Paralipomena De
dubiis naturalibus (Paralipomena) De rebus factis raris et artificiis humana compositione naturalium De mirabilibus
morbis et symptomatibus (Paralipomena) De astrorum et temporum ratione et
divisionibus Paralipomena De mathematicis quaesitis Paralipomena Historiae
lapidum, metallicorum et metallorum (Paralipomena) Historiae animalium
Historiae plantarum De anima De dubiis ex historiis (Paralipomena) De
clarorum virorum vita et libris (Paralipomena) De hominum antiquorum
illustrium iudicio. De usu hominum et dignotione eorum, tum cura et errore. De
sapiente (Paralipomena. De vita propria.
De libris propriis. De Socratis studio. Oratio ad I. Alciatum Cardinalem sive
Tricipitis Geryonis aut Cerberi canis. Actio in Thessalicum medicum. Neronis
encomium. Podagrae encomium. Mnemosynon. De orthographia. De ludo aleae. De
uno. Hyperchen. Dialectica. Contradictiones logicae. Norma vitae consarcinata,
sacra vocata. Proxeneta. De praeceptis ad filios. De optimo vitae genere. De
sapientia. De summo bono. De consolatione. Dialogus Hieronymi Cardani et Facii
Cardani ipsius patris. Dialogus Antigorgias seu de recta vivendi ratione.
Dialogus Tetim seu de humanis consiliis. Dialogus Guglielmus seu de morte. De
minimis et propinquis. Hymnus seu canticum ad Deum. De utilitate ex adversis
capienda. De natura. Theonoston seu de tranquilitate. Theonoston seu de vita
producenda. Theonoston seu de animi immortalitate. Theonoston seu de
contemplatione. Theonoston seu hyperboraeorum historia. De immortalitate
animorum. De secretis. De gemmis et coloribus. De aqua. De vitali aqua seu de
aethere. De aceti natura. Problemata. Se la qualità può trapassare di subbietto
in subbietto. Del vacuo. De fulgure. De rerum varietate. De subtilitate. In
calumniatorem librorum de subtilitate. De numerorum proprietatibus. Practica
arithmeticae. Libellus qui dicitur, Computus minor. Ars magna. Ars magna
arithmeticae. De aliza regula. Sermo de plus et minus. Geometriae encomium.
Exaereton mathematicorum. De proportionibus. Operatione della linea. Della
natura de principii et regole musicali. De restitutione temporum et motuum
coelestium. De providentia ex anni constitutione. Aphorismorum astronomicorum
segmenta septem. In Cl. Ptolemaei de astrorum iudiciis. De septem erraticarum
stellarum qualitatibus atque viribus. De iudiciis geniturarum. De exemplis
centum geniturarum. Geniturarum exempla. De interrogationibus. De
revolutionibus. De supplemento almanach. Somniorum synesiorum. Astrologiae
encomium. Medicinae encomium. De sanitate tuenda. Contradicentium medicorum. De
usu ciborum. De causis, signis ac locis morborum. De urinis. Ars curandi parva.
De methodo medendi. De cina radice. De sarza parilia. Disputationes per
epistolas. De venenis. In librum Hippocratis de alimento commentaria. In librum
Hippocratis de aere, aquis et locis commentaria. In septem aphorismorum
Hippocratis commentaria. In Hippocratis coi prognostica commentaria. In librum
Hippocratis de septimestri partu commentaria. Examen XXII. aegrorum
Hippocratis. Consilia. De dentibus. De rationali curandi ratione. De
facultatibus medicamentorum. De morbo regio. De morbis articularibus.
Floridorum libri sive commentarii in Principem Hasen (Avicenna). Vita Ludovici
Ferrarii. Vita Andreae Alciati. De arcanis aeternitatis. Politices seu
Moralium. Elementa Graeca. De inventione. De naturalibus viribus. De musica.
Artis arithmeticae tractatus de integris. Expositio Anatomiae Mundini. In
libros Hippocratis de victu in acutis commentaria. In libros epidemiorum
Hippocratis commentaria. De epilepsia. De apoplexia. Paralipomena. De humanis
civilibus successionibus. De humana perfectione. Peri thaumason seu de
admirandis. De dubiis naturalibus. De rebus factis raris et artificiis. De
humana compositione naturalium. De mirabilibus morbis et symptomatibus. De astrorum
et temporum ratione et divisionibus. De mathematicis quaesitis. Historiae
lapidum, metallicorum et metallorum. Historiae animalium. Historiae plantarum.
De anima. De dubiis ex historiis. De clarorum virorum vita et libris. De
hominum antiquorum illustrium iudicio. De usu hominum et dignotione eorum, tum
cura et errore. De sapiente. Melanippus and Chariton Italy Greek athletes
Lovers separator. Hieronymus the peripatetic says that the loves of youths used
to be much encouraged, for this reason, that the vigour of the young and their
close agreement in comradeship have led to the overthrow of many a tyranny. For
in the presence of his favorite a lover would rather endure anything than earn
the name of coward; a thing which was proved in practice by the Sacred Band,
established at Thebes under Epaminondas; as well as by the death of the
Pisistratid, which was brought about by Harmodius and Aristogeiton. "And
at Agrigentum in Sicily the same was shown by the mutual love of Chariton and
Melanippus - of whom Melanippus was the younger beloved, as Heraclides of
Pontus tells in his Treatise on Love. For these two having been accused of
plotting against Phalaris, and being put to torture in order to force them to
betray their accomplices, not only did not tell, but even compelled Phalaris to
such pity of their tortures that he released them with many words of
praise. "Whereupon Apollo, pleased at his conduct, granted to
Phalaris a respite from death; and declared the same to the men who inquired of
the Pythian priestess how they might best attack him. He also gave an oracular
saying concerning Chariton - 'Blessed indeed was Chariton and Melanippus,
Pioneers of Godhead, and of mortals the one most beloved. M/M: Chariton and
Melanippus, Blessed Pair: Athenaeus, Deipnosophistae. Like the Athenian couple
Harmodius and Aristogeiton, the couple Melanippus and Chariton are also seen as
symbols of political freedom. Felix & Chariton & Melanippus
erat, mortalium genti auctores coelestis amoris. εὐδαίμων Χαρίτων καὶ
Μελάνιππος ἔφυ, θείας ἁγητῆρες ἐφαμερίοις φιλότατος. Athenaeus,
Deipnosophistae XIII.78; Translated in to Latin by Iohannes Schweighaeuser
Chariton & Melanippus were blessed; Pinnacle of holy love on
earth. ATHENAEUS MAP: Name: Athenaeus Works: Deipnosophists
REGION 4 Region 1: Peninsular Italy; Region 2: Western
Europe; Region 3: Western Coast of Africa; Region 4: Egypt and Eastern
Mediterranean; Region 5: Greece and the Balkans BIO: Timeline:
Athenaeus was a scholar who lived in Naucratis (modern Egypt) during the
reign of the Antonines. His fifteen volume work, the Deipnosophists, are
invaluable for the amount of quotations they preserve of otherwise lost authors,
including the poetry of Sappho. ROMAN GREEK LITERATURE ARCHAIC;
GOLDEN AGE; HELLENISTIC; ROMAN; POST CONSTANTINOPLE; BYZANTINE:M/M: Melanippus
and Chariton, Two Lovers of Freedom Athenaeus, Deip. XIII.78 Like the Athenian
couple Harmodius and Aristogeiton, the couple Melanippus and Chariton are also
seen as symbols of political freedom. ut ait Heraclides Ponticus in libro
De Amatoriis. Hi [Melanippus & Chariton] igitur deprehensi insidias
struxisse Phalaridi, & tormentis subiecti quo coniuratos denunciare
cogerentur, non modo non denuntiarunt, sed etiam Phalarin ipsum ad misericordiam
tormentorum commoverunt, ut plurimum collaudatos dimitteret. ὥς
φησιν Ἡρακλείδης ὁ Ποντικὸς ἐν τῷ περὶ Ἐρωτικῶν, οὗτοι φανέντες ἐπιβουλεύοντες
Φαλάριδι καὶ βασανιζόμεναι ἀναγκαζόμενοί τε λέγειν τοὺς συνειδότας οὐ μόνον οὐ
κατεῖπον, ἀλλὰ καὶ τὸν Φάλαριν αὐτὸν εἰς ἔλεον τῶν βασάνων ἤγαγον, ὡς ἀπολῦσαι
αὐτοὺς πολλὰ ἐπαινέσαντα. --Athenaeus, Deipnosophistae XIII.78;
Translated in to Latin by Iohannes Schweighaeuser. According to The Lovers by Heraclides
of Pontus, [Melanippus and Chariton] were caught plotting against Phalaris.
Even when they were tortured to provide the names of their accomplices, they
refused. Moreover, their plight moved Phalaris’ sympathy to such an extent that
he praised them and released them. ATHENAEUS MAP: Name:
Athenaeus Works: Deipnosophists REGION
4 Region 1: Peninsular Italy; Region 2: Western Europe; Region 3: Western
Coast of Africa; Region 4: Egypt and Eastern Mediterranean; Region 5: Greece
and the Balkans BIO: Timeline: Athenaeus was a
scholar who lived in Naucratis (modern Egypt) during the reign of the
Antonines. His fifteen volume work, the Deipnosophists, are invaluable for the
amount of quotations they preserve of otherwise lost authors, including the
poetry of Sappho. ROMAN GREEK LITERATURE ARCHAIC; GOLDEN AGE;
HELLENISTIC; ROMAN; POST CONSTANTINOPLE; BYZANTINE. KrisArmodio, che viene
riparato dal braccio sinistro del compagno più adulto. Quel gesto inavvertito o
solo genericamente descritto dalle letture critiche, tese più che altro alla
considerazione dei principali contenuti politico-encomiastici del gruppo si fa
segno leggibile invece di una categoria interiore trasversale a tutte le epoche
e alle geografie e tanto presente nello spirito antico quanto nel nostro:
l'omoaffettività. Un uomo della fine del VI secolo a.C., chiamato Aristogitone,
che aveva affrontato un rivale, oggi potrebbe chiamarsi Marco, Francesco o
Giovanni, e compiere un medesimo atto, allungando poi un braccio come uno scudo
su altri Armodio, dai nomi di Mario, Alessandro e Franco, per la reciprocità,
l'attaccamento, il calore e il mutuo soccorso che il sentimento di essere in
due sempre realizza. Quel gesto del braccio, inventato da Nesiotes e Kritios,
fissa dentro un modello di valore civico per la retorica libertaria il segno di
un amore. Armodio e Aristogitone tirannicidi ateniesi Lingua Segui
Modifica Armodio e Aristogitone (in greco antico: Ἁρμόδιος, Harmódios e Ἀριστογείτων,
Aristoghéitōn) furono gli ateniesi tirannicidi che cercarono di porre termine
al potere personale della famiglia di Pisistrato. Statua di Armodio
e Aristogitone, Napoli. Copia romana di originale greco perduto Sono noti come "i
tirannicidi" per antonomasia, che assassinarono il tiranno di Atene
Ipparco, ma vennero a loro volta uccisi dal fratello di costui, Ippia.
AntefattoModifica Pisistrato riuscì nel 534 a.C., dopo vari tentativi (meno
riusciti) negli anni precedenti, approfittando delle tensioni che laceravano la
città di Atene, ad assumere su di essa un potere personale. Pisistrato fu un
tiranno,[1] prese il potere con la forza, ma, a giudizio unanime degli storici,
fra i quali Erodoto, Tucidide e Aristotele, non ne abusò per modificare le
istituzioni di cui la città disponeva e governò più da cittadino che da
tiranno. Quando morì nel 527 a.C.-528 a.C., i suoi figli Ippia e Ipparco
gli succedettero. Ippia, il figlio maggiore, tese a continuare nella politica
paterna, mentre Ipparcoebbe un ruolo minore nella tirannide, ma l'atteggiamento
del regime mutò profondamente in seguito alla fallita cospirazione. I
fatti si svolsero a quattordici anni dalla morte di Pisistrato. Tucidide
racconta che a far scattare la messa in atto della congiura vi furono motivi
personali di tipo sentimentale. Ipparco s'invaghisce del giovane Armodio che,
secondo quanto racconta lo storico Tucidide, "era allora nel fiore della
bellezza giovanile", dal che si deduce che doveva avere 15 anni. Armodio
era l'eromenos(giovane amante) di Aristogitone, descritto da Tucidide come
"un cittadino di mezza età" - probabilmente aveva 35 anni - e
appartenente ad una delle vecchie famiglie aristocratiche. Le relazioni
sessuali fra un uomo più anziano (l'erastès) e un giovane non erano di costume
sanzionate ad Atene ed altre città greche, sebbene tali rapporti non fossero
omosessuali nel moderno senso della parola, ma pederastici. Certe relazioni
erano governate da severe convenzioni, e le azioni di Ipparco per cercare di
rubare l'eromenos di Aristogitone erano un deciso affronto alle regole
(Tucidide dice aspramente che Aristogitone "era il suo amante e lo
possedeva"). Armodio rifiutò Ipparco e raccontò ad Aristogitone
cos'era successo. Ipparco, rifiutato, si vendicò ottenendo che la giovane
sorella di Armodio fosse esclusa dalla cerimonia di offerta alle feste
Panateneeaccusandola di non essere sufficientemente nobile. Questa offesa fu
così grande per la famiglia di Armodio che egli decise di assassinare, con la
complicità di Aristogitone, sia Ippia che Ipparco e rovesciare la
tirannia. L'uccisione di IpparcoModifica Il piano - che doveva essere
portato a termine con pugnali nascosti nelle corone di mirto cerimoniali -
coinvolgeva anche un certo numero di cospiratori, ma vedendo uno di questi
salutare amichevolmente Ippia il giorno fissato, i Tirannicidi pensarono di
essere stati traditi ed entrarono subito in azione, senza rispettare l'ordine
che si erano dati. Riuscirono così ad uccidere Ipparco, pugnalandolo a morte
mentre stava organizzando le processioni delle Panatenee ai piedi
dell'Acropoli, ma perirono per mano delle guardie del tiranno senza scatenare
ribellioni. Aristotele, nella Costituzione degli Ateniesi, tramanda una
tradizione che vede la morte di Aristogitone avere luogo solo dopo una tortura
volta alla speranza che questi indicasse il nome degli altri cospiratori.
Durante la sua agonia, personalmente sovrintesa da Ippia, questi finse
benevolenza affinché egli tradisse i suoi cospiratori, sostenendo che la sola
stretta di mano del tiranno sarebbe bastata per garantirgli la salvezza. Nel
ricevere la mano di Ippia si dice che Aristogitone l'abbia criticato per aver
stretto la mano dell'assassino di suo fratello, al che il tiranno cambiò
immediatamente idea e lo uccise sul posto. Allo stesso modo, una
tradizione dice che Aristogitone fosse innamorato di una etera dal nome di
Leaena(leonessa) che era ugualmente tenuta in tortura da Ippia - in un vano
tentativo di costringerla a divulgare i nomi degli altri cospiratori - finché
questa morì. Si diceva che era in suo onore che le statue ateniesi di Afrodite
furono da allora accompagnate da leonesse [secondo Pausania].
L'assassinio del fratello portò Ippia a stabilire una dittatura ancora più
severa che fu molto impopolare e che venne rovesciata, con l'aiuto di un
esercito proveniente da Sparta, nel 510 a.C. Questi eventi furono seguiti dalle
riforme di Clistene, che stabilì in città la democrazia. La fama
successivaModifica Magnifying glass icon mgx2.svgLo stesso argomento in
dettaglio: Gruppo dei Tirannicidi. La mitologia successiva venne così ad
identificare le figure romantiche di Armodio e Aristogitone come martiri della
causa della libertà ateniese, e divennero noti come i Liberatori (eleutherioi)
e Tirannicidi (tyrannophonoi). Secondo scrittori successivi, ai discendenti di
Armodio e Aristogitone furono concessi privilegi ereditari come la sitesis (il
diritto di mangiare a spese pubbliche al palazzo del governo cittadino),
l'ateleia (esenzione da certi doveri religiosi), e la proedria (posti in prima
fila a teatro). Visto che non si sa se Armodio abbia avuto discendenti (è
inverosimile che li abbia avuti anche Aristogitone), questa potrebbe essere
un'invenzione seguente, ma illustra la loro fama postuma. La storia di
Armodio e Aristogitone, e come venne trattata dai successivi scrittori greci, è
dimostrativa dell'attitudine nei confronti dell'omosessualità al tempo. Sia
Tucidide che Erodoto dicono che i due erano amanti senza commentare il fatto
presumendo la familiarità dei loro lettori con tale pratica sessuale
istituzionalizzata senza trovarvi stranezze. Nel 346 a.C., per esempio,
il politico Timarco fu perseguito (per ragioni politiche) per il fatto che si
era prostituito. L'oratore che lo difendeva, Demostene, citò Armodio e
Aristogitone, così come Achille e Patroclo, come esempi degli effetti benefici
delle relazioni omosessuali. NoteModifica ^ Con la celebre spiegazione di
Cornelio Nepote, nel mondo greco veniva chiamato tiranno chi era signore di una
città precedentemente libera Voci correlateModifica Omosessualità militare
nella Grecia antica Omosessualità nell'Antica Grecia Pederastia greca
TirannideAristogitone e Armodio, in Dizionario di storia, Istituto
dell'Enciclopedia Italiana, Armodio e Aristogitone, su Enciclopedia Britannica,
Encyclopædia Britannica, Inc.La storia di Armodio e Aristogitone. Da: Projet
Androphile. Portale Antica Grecia Portale Biografie Portale
LGBT PAGINE CORRELATE Ipparco (tiranno) tiranno di Atene, figlio di
Pisistrato Ippia (tiranno) tiranno di Atene, figlio di Pisistrato
Leena di Atene etera ateniese --se Sive Oeconomia omnium Operum Hieronymi Cardam, forum.
Signum t prifixum, ea denotat, qui modo in Iuccm prodeunt. PHILOLOGICA, Logica, Moralia.Vita propria, Libet. Ephemerus, de Libris
proprii». SPe|[)K De Libris propriis,
eoruaaquevfu.exeditRovilliji IV. ltMriijs' De
Libris propriis et eorum usu, ex edit. Henricpetr. V
Aeca
De Socratis (ludio. Oratio ad Cardinalem Alciatum,
(ive Tricipitis Geryonis ,
aut Canis Cerberi. In Theffalum Medicum, Attio secunda.
Encomium Neronis. Encomium Podagri. Mneroofynon. De Orthographia.
De Ludo alel. DIALETTICA. Contradictiones logici. De
Vno. Hyperchen. Norma viti confarcinata.facra
vocata. Proxeneta, feude Prudentia ciuili. De
Priceptis ad filios. De Optimovitx genere, De Sapientia. De
Summo bono. De Consolatione. Dialogus Hieton. Cardani, et Facij Cardam patri».
Dialogus Antigorgias, feu De retta vivendi ratione. Diaiogus
Tetim, feu De humanis confiltii. Dialogus De morte, feo Guglielmus.
De Minimis & propinquis. Hymnus, feu Canticum ad Deum, Moralia quidam,
Physica. Vtilitate ex adversis capienda. De Natura,
Thconofton de Tranquillitate. Dialogus de Vita producenda,
feu Thconofton Thconofton. dc Animi immortalitate.
Thconofton feu de Contemplatione. MTheonofton seu
Hyperboreorum. De Immortalitate
animorum. De Secretis. De Gemmis, & coloribus.
De Aqua. Dc Vitali aqua, seu aethere. De Aceti natura.
Problematum fc&ionesfcptcm. Discorso del Vacua. Se la qualita
puo trapaliare di subbietto in subbietto. Dc fulgure. Physica. De
subtilitate. Aftio prima in Calumniatorem librorum dc Subtilitate. DcKcrum varietate. Arithmetica,
Geometrica, Mufua. t 1 A E Numerorum proprietatibus,
Pradtira Arithmetica. Computus minor. Artis magnx, sive de Regulis Algebraicis. Liber Artis
magnx, five quadraginta capitulorum, Si quadraginta
quxftionum. De Aliza regula. Sermo de plus fcminus.
Exxreton mathematicorum. Encomium Geometnx. Operatione della linea,
De Proportionibus numerorum, motuum, ponderum, f onorurm, Delia natura deprincipij,
e regolo Muficali. AJlronomica, AJlrologica, Onirocritica, DE Reftitutione temporum &
motuum cacleftium. De Prouidentia ex anni conftitutionei Aphorifmotum Aftronomicorum fegmenta feptem. Commemarij in Ptolcmxum, de
Aftrorum judiciis. De feptem Erraticarum
ftellarum viribus. De Interrogationibus. De ludiciis geniturarum. De Exemplis cdhtum geniturarum. Liber duodecim
genurarum. De Revolutionibus. De fupplemento Alraanach. Somniorum Synefiorum libri.
Medicinalium primus. Ncomiutn Medicini, De Sanitate tuenda. Contradicentium Medicorum Ubii duo,
olim' impreffi, nunc audtiores. Contradicentium Medicorum
Libri o&opofteriores, nunc primum
in lucem emergentes. Medicinalium fecundus. LVfu ciborum. De Causis,
Signis, ac locis morborum. De Vrinis. Ars curandi parva. De Methodo medendi, fettiones tres priores.dempta quarta que
Confilia quidam continebat, fuo loco redituta.
De Radice Cina- De Cyna radice, seu de Decodis magnis. De Sarza parilia.
De Oxyinelicis usu in plcuritide. De Venenis
Commentarij in librum Hippoc. de Alimento. Medicinalium
tertius. Commentarij in librum Hippocr. De Aere, aquis,
et locis. Commcntarij in Aphorismos
Hippocratis. Conclufiones de Lapidibus Galeni
in explicatione Aphorifmoru. Apologia ad Andream Camutium. Commcncarij in lib. Prognofticorum Hippocrati. Medicinalium quartus
& poliremus. Commentarij in lib. Hippocr. De Septiroeftri partui
Examen agrorum
Hippocr. in Epidem. Lonliha varia partim
edita, partimhaidenusanecdota. Opufcula Medica
lenii ia, (eu de dentibus De Dentibus, liber cjuintus,
seu de morbis articularibus. Floridorum s ive Comtnent. in Principem Hazen.Vita
Ludovici Ferranj, et Alciaci. Miscellanea, ex Fragmentis, & Paralipomenis: L fragmenta. EArcanis xternitatis,tractatus. Politica, seu Moralium,
Laber vnus. Elemehta lingua: Grscx. De Inventione.V.
t De Naturalibus viribus, traftatus. De Musica. De Integris,
traftatus Arithmeticus. Expositio Anatomix Mundini-Commentarij in libros Hippocr.
de Viftu in acutis. Commentarij in duos libros priores Epidem.Hippocr. De Epilcplia, traftatus. De Apoplexia. PARALlFOMENON Itbri.
De humanis ciuilibus fucceffiombus. De humana perfectione. HI. tn«o',
feude Admirandis.De dubiis naturalibus, De rebus
faftis raris ,& artificits.M.S. De
humana compolitione naturalium. De mirabilibus
morbis Stfymptomatibus. Deaftrorum & temporum ratione et divisionibus.
De mathematicis quxlitis. Historix lapidum, metallicorum et metallorum.
Hiftorix animalium. Hiftorix plantarum. De anima. De dubiis ex hiftoris.
De clarorum virorum vita Selibris. De hominum antiquorum illuftrium judicio.
De vfu hominum, et dignotione eorum,
tum cura Sc errore. De sapiente. Hieronymus Cardanus. Hieronimo
Cardano. Gerolamo Cardano. Keywords: masculinity, machio – maschile, Prospero,
De signo, De signis, de Casis, signis, ac locis Morborum, ten volumes of “Opera
omnia” analytic index – he wrote about almost everything – including logic,
dialettica, metafisica, psicologia, anima, fisionomia, same-sex, he criticised
Galenus for not realizing the distinction that at 14, a puer becomes an
adolescent – his oeuvre is being examined in masculinity studies – masculinity
Italian, Bolognese masculinity. He claimed that Bolognese males were ‘tasteful’
and underrated compared to Milaenese or Florentine males – he lived all over
the place – he had many tutees, whose names survive – he was possibly paranoid
– Silvestri was his best known tutee –analytic index of “Opera Omnia” -- Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Grice e Cardano” – The
Swimming-Pool Library.
Grice e Cardano: l’implicatura conversazionale del Pietro
della Lombardia -- filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza (Lumellogno). Filosofo italiano. lombardia -- Grice:
“If William was called Ockham, I should be called Harborne, and Petrus
Lombardia!” -- Pietro Lombardo
rappresentato in una miniatura a decorazione di una littera notabilior di un
manoscritto Pietro Lombardo o Pier Lombardo (Lumellogno di Novara, 1100Parigi,
1160 circa) teologo e vescovo italiano. Nacque a Novara o nei dintorni (a
Lumellogno esiste una lapide su di una casa che risorda il luogo della nascita),
all'inizio del XII secolo. Ricevette la sua prima formazione teologica a
Bologna, dove acquisì una perfetta conoscenza del Decretum Gratiani. Si recò a
Reims e poi a Parigi, dove fino alla sua elevazione alla sede vescovile di
questa città insegnò teologia. Almeno una volta in questo periodo si recò alla
corte pontificia, dove venne a conoscenza della traduzione del De fide
orthodoxa di Giovanni Damasceno, compiuta da Burgundio Pisano per incarico di
Eugenio III. Quasi certamente è uno dei teologi che nel sinodo parigino presero
posizione contro Porretano. Dopo un breve episcopato morì. Il suo
epitaffio si conservò nella chiesa di Saint Marcel fino alla Rivoluzione
francese. ALIGHIERI (si veda) lo nomina in Paradiso. Oltre ai commenti
all'opera di Paolo di Tarso e ai Salmi, la sua opera maggiore rimane il Liber
Sententiarum (Libro delle Sentenze), per la quale ottenne l'appellativo di
Magister Sententiarum. Sebbene il testo rientri in un genere letterario tipico
della teologia medievale, ossia l'esposizione delle sentenze delle autorità di
fede (i padri della chiesa ed i riferimenti biblici) l'opera del Lombardo, per
l'ampiezza delle fonti e la sua originalità, diverrà il testo di riferimento
per la didattica nelle facoltà di teologia e l'elaborazione letteraria nello
stesso campo. Egli infatti attinge ad una vasta letteratura in merito,
adottando anche testi che normalmente non erano contemplati in queste
composizioni, come Il De fide ortodoxa di Damasceno. Con la sua opera il
Lombardo tenta di sistematizzare e armonizzare la disparità e le divergenze che
la pluralità delle auctoritates aveva generato, dando luogo ad un certo
scompiglio ermeneutico e dottrinale. Riprendendo la classica distinzione
agostiniana tra signa e res, Lombardo afferma che il motivo delle divergenze
non appartiene alla natura delle cose trattate, bensì alla metodologia
esegetica. Il testo si divide in quattro parti: la prima tratta di
Dio, della sua natura e dei suoi attributi; la seconda delle creazione degli
angeli, del mondo e dell'uomo sino al peccato originale; la terza
dell'incarnazione cristica e della promessa della Grazia; la quarta dei
sacramenti. Anche lo sviluppo del testo mantiene la distinzione tra res (le prime
tre parti) e signa (l'ultima) Lo stile del Lombardo snoda l'esposizione delle
sentenze coll'eleganza dialettica di tipo anselmiano mantenendosi aderente al
rispetto delle varie auctoritates anche riguardo o stile letterario col quale
egli opera una volontaria mimesi. Il testo venne criticato sin dalla sua
prima uscita per via del cosiddetto nichilismo cristologico. Lombardo descrive
infatti l'incarnazione nei termini di assumptus homo, ossia la persona divina
del Cristo avrebbe assunto una natura umana (accessoriamente). Ciò contrastava
con la determinazione di origine boeziana per la quale la natura cristologica
traeva la sua forma da un sinolo unico di divino ed umano. Note Per approfondimenti vedere: Nicola Abbagnano,
Storia della filosofia, II, pag.30 e
seg. Novara, Istituto Geografico de Agostini, per Gruppo Editoriale l'Espresso,
Roma (I contenuti di questo volume sono tratti da: Abbagnano, Storia della
filosofia, Torino, Pomba, e Abbagnano, Dizionario di Filosofia, terza edizione
aggiornata ed ampliata da Giovanni Fornero, Torino, Pomba 1998) Nicola Abbagnano, Storia della
filosofia, II, pag. 37 e seg. Novara,
Istituto Geografico de Agostini, 2006 per Gruppo Editoriale l'Espresso, Roma (I
contenuti di questo volume sono tratti da: Nicola Abbagnano, Storia della
filosofia I, II, III, quarta edizione,
Torino, Pomba, e Abbagnano, Dizionario di Filosofia, terza edizione aggiornata
ed ampliata da Giovanni Fornero, Torino, Pomba); Colish, C., Leiden, Brill; C. Atti
del Convegno: Todi, Spoleto, Fondazione Centro italiano di studi sull'alto
Medioevo, Minuscule 714il manoscritto del Nuovo Testamento e di
"Sententiae". Libri Quattuor Sententiarum Scolastica (filosofia) C.
su TreccaniEnciclopedie on line, Istituto dell'Enciclopedia Italiana. Francesco Pelster, Pietro Lombardo, in
Enciclopedia Italiana, Istituto dell'Enciclopedia Italiana. C., su Enciclopedia
Britannica, Siri, C. in Dizionario biografico degli italiani, Istituto
dell'Enciclopedia; C., openMLOL, Horizons Unlimited, C., Les Archives de littérature du Moyen Âge; C. Catholic Encyclopedia, Robert Appleton
Company. Rovighi, C., in Enciclopedia dantesca, Istituto dell'Enciclopedia
Italiana, C., Opera Omnia dal Migne Patrologia Latina con indici
analitici.Chisholm, C., in Enciclopedia Britannica, Cambridge; Illustrare 'k
iSlosofia di C. finora casi trascurata dagli'
storici della filosofia è im lavoro del tutto nuovo spedialmente per
lltalia. Protois affe!rim»a decisamente che C. non è un
filosofo, Thaureau ch'egli è il principe degl’indifferenti in materia fìlosofica.
Entrambe le asserzioni sono affrettate. Solo in Germania C. venne
studiato con maggior serietà e con particolare attenzione! Kogel pubblica a
Lipsia una monografia su C. Questa però parve confusa ed inesatta ad Espenberger
che intraprese un studio acuratissimo della filosofia di C. e della posizione
sua nel Beitràge zur Geschichte der Philosophie des Mittelalter diretti
da BàumJcer e Herttìng. Di tale pubblicazione mi servii in special modo [Notre
auteur ne fui donc pas un philosophe.] De la philosophie scolastique — Paris, [Cesi
lui qua notes reconnaissons corame le chef des indiffèrents en matière de
philosophie. C. in s. Stellung z. Phil. d. Mittelal, Leipzig. Die
philosophie des C. und ihre Stellung im vwblften Jahrhundert.
Aschendorffschen Milnster] per questi miei appunti sulla filosofìa di C. sebbene
mi pervenisse al momento di stenderli e troppo lardi per farne Fesaane
minuto che essa si merita. Poiché è veramente questo il primo saggio che si
occupa con severa e profonda indagine critioa della filosofia del Maestro delle Sentenze. L'autore dimostra
una profonda conoscenza delle opere patristiche e delle scritture sacre
colle quali esercita opportuni raffronti. Egli non si è poi solo limitato
all'esame del Libro delle Sentenze, ma ha giustamente esteso le sue
indagini alle altre opere meno conosciute di C. e pure ricche di
impvortanti digressioni filosofiche, quali il Commentano o Gloessa dei
Salmi detto anche Salterio, ed i Commentarli alle Epistole di S. Paolo. Solo
non ha tenuto conto dei Sermoni che sottio tra le cose più interessanti se
non più belle del Sentenz.iario, pur nel severo giudizio di Hanreau e Bourgain,
di cui Protois ha tratto dai mss. degli utili estratti mentre se ne trova
l'intero testo con poche varianti nelle Opere Omnia del vescovo Ildeberto.
Essi sono utili per completare la figura intellettuale di C. Del
quale a questo punto ripeleremo le parole: sed terrei immensitas laboris.
In verità quantunque grande sia la nostra buona volontà non ci
dissimuliamo la vastità del lavoro intrapreso : onde lo restringeremo
entro i limiti a noi concessi, raffigurandoci un poco a quello
spigolatore che move fidente sulle orme dei più abili mietitori pago
di fare un piccolo fascio delle spighe dimenticate. HAUREàU Not. et
Extr. t. Ili p. 49. BouBGAiN. La chaire firancaisc au XII siede
Paris, cfr. FjsBitT (La faculiè de Theol.). I
Padri della Chiesa iniziarono la filosofia oristiana, ma in forma
espositiva, avendo ripugnanza a sottopome troppo minute dimostrazioni le verità
rivelate. È secondo il pensiero di Gregorio una profanazione fassoggettare il verbo
divino ALLE REGOLE DI DONATO. Ma quando, prima chei si diffondessero per tutta
Europa le opere di Aristotile, si attese a studiare con amore i libri dell’Organum
tradotti da BOEZIO, si accede quella tendenza già iniziata nei secoli antecedenti
a fortificare il dogma col sillogismo e l'autorità della ragione. Da
questo connubio della teologia colla dialettica del LIZIO nasce la scolastica
la quale se ha i suoi precursoiri nei primi secoli del cristianesimo non
riconosce i suoi veri fondatori che nel secolo di Abelardo e di C. Essa
nasceva per una necessità di rendere più conformei la fede al sapere più
progredito. E se da una parte non cessa di fiorire la .scuola dei mistici con Bernardo
e gli Ai tempi di Abelardo e di C. non si possede altro
d'Aristotile che la logica, cioè ciò che si chiama l'Organum e comprende:
le Categorie coll'introduzione di Porfirio, l'Ermeneutica, gl’Analitici, i
Topici, la Sofistica nella traduzione di Boezio, (Cousm — Fragments
philosophiques Paris) abati Ugo e Riccardo di S. Vittore, da un'altra il
mal compresso bisogno di libertà di pensiero apre la via ad
interminabili dispute quali giungevano talvolta ad intaccare il dogma, come
accadde per Abelardo. C. apparve come moderatore tra le due opposte
tendenze: la mistica e la speculativa, e valendosi dello stesso
metodo dialettico usato dagli avversarti eerli si propose di dimostrare
come le apparenti contraddizioni che si rileivano nelle Scritture sacre e
patristiche rischi'arate dalla ragione riconducono a rinvigorire maggiormente
te verità della fede. C. però nel Prologo delle Sentenze si scaglia
contro coloro qui non rationi voluntatem suhiiciunt, che la ragion
sommettono al talento, traduce ALIGHIERI, e vogliono fare credere per
verità, i sogni di lor mente inferma. Qui non irationi voluntatem subiiciunt,
nec doctrinae studium impendunt, sed his quae somniarunt sapientiae verba
coaptare nituntiu, non veri sed placiti etiam sectantes. C. è dunque
tenuto dallo stesso compito che egli si era pronosto, cioè di dimostrare
cHte nelle scritture sacre non v'ha vera sconcordanza e che ogni ragionamento
umano si riduce in ultima analisi a dimostrarne la veracità assoluta, a non
imporra egli stesso nuove e diverse dottrine le auala lo avrebbero
condotto fuori della sua serena imparzialità. Se ciò si possa chiamare
indifferentismo io non so, poiché il Maestro delle Sentenze non sdegna di
entrare e di approfondirsi nelle più minute distinzioni e controversite
fìlosofìche, cosi care ai suoi tempi, sforzandosi con passione di
ricavarne le verità da lui srià piresupposte. Nella sua umiltà che
diventò poi lefir-srendaria esrli preferisce lasciar la parola affli
altri, a Gerolamo, ad Ambrogio, e specialmente ad Agostino che è il stio
autore preferito come quello che suipera tutti srli altri padri per
profondità di vedute e copia d’argomenti nelle questioni fondamentali del
dogma. Ma non è vero che il Maestro rimanga empire nascosto e non
ap- [Questi ultimi conobbero oltre Aristotile anche Platone a cui
sembrano dare la preferenza e non furono del tutto stranieri alle vedute
dei neoplatonici. V. Bòbba La dottrina dell’intelletto in Aristotile e
nei 8140Ì pie illustri commentatori; paia di tratto in tratto a mostrarci
la via da seguire, per non perderci nel djedalo inestricabile delle
questioni. JJei «resto i più che hanno parlato di C. si sono
aoconlentati di scorrere i libri delle Sentenze: non hanno letto i suoi
lunghi e lucidi Commentarii alle Epistole di Paolo, e neppure quelli ai
Salmi che egli riunì sotto il titolo sintetico di Psaterium, nom^ i sjuoì
ispirati Sermoni che si trovano manoscritti alla Biblioteca Nazionale
di Parigi, e stampati tra quelli del vescovo Ildeberlo. In tutte
queste opere C. non è solo un puro e disadorno espositore di dottrine.
Certamente il Maestro va considerato precipuamente mei suo saggio delle
Sentenze, il quale lormò testo nelle scuole ed è letto e commentato più
della Bibbia mentre le altre opere vennero più presto dimenticate. Ma
anche qui se egli non espone dottrine nuove, ha però il merito grande e
riconosciuto da tutti gli storici della filosofia di distribuirle con
metodo razionale, cosi che esse ricevevano lume le une dalle altre. Metodo
già sperimentato con altro intento d’Abelardo, ma dal Nostro condotto a
singolare perfezione. Egli slesso sull'autorità d’Agostino, espone l’ordine col
quale si deve disputare. (Sent.):
Gaeterum, ut in primo libro de Trinitate Augustinus docet, primo secundum
auctoritates Sanctarum Scriptura- nim utrum fides ita ee habeat
demonstrandum est. Deinde adversus gamilos ratiocinatores elaliores magis
quam capaciores, rationibus catholicis et similitudinibus congniis
ad defensdonem et assertioneim fidei utendum est; ut eorum
inquisitionibus satisf<icientes, mansuetos plenius instrua- mus et
illi si nequiverunt invenire quod quaerunt, de suis menlibus polius quam
de ipsa veritate vel de nostra assertione conquerantur. . Il Deniflb in
Carivi, Univer. Paris IntrodttcHo Methodus Abaelardi in IHo etiam opere quod in
schoh's Theologiae per aliquot saecula adhibebatur usurpata est, dicimus
Sententias Magistri C.Per queste come per le altre numerose citazioni
delle opere di C. ci serviamo della Patrologia dil Migne, Paris. Fu
in apecia»! modo ai metodo da mi usato che si deve J'eaiorme diffusione
del libro delle Sentenze nelle scuole. Esso nel mentre veniva a
soddisfare la naturiate curiosità del conoscere ed a dare la spiegazione
di molte credenze poneva dei limiti alla libertà del raziocinio. Ma
vienne sempre lasciato un cantuccio alle discussioni intermmabili sulle
questioni minori, dalla risoluzione delle quali in un senso o in un altro
poco aveva a soffrirne l'ortodossia. yui si esercitavano le intelligenze,
inquisitionibus satisfacientes, SMANIOSE DI SOTTILIZARE e di
sillogizzare, con tanta maggior sicurezza, quanto minore era il pericolo
di intaccare la fede. Lo stesso C. nel suo saggio non si trattiene
dal diffondersi nell'esame di questioni che a noi sembrano del tutto FUTILI e
vane come quelle ad esempio che riguardano la natura degli angeli. E non è raro anche il caso che le lasci
insolute. Cosi nel libro I, laddove domanda perchè mentre amare è
lo stesso che essere, si dice che il Padre ed il Figliuolo non sono
in essenza costituiti dell’amore col quale si amaaio scambievolmente, CONFESSA
MODESTAMENTE CHE LA QUESTIONE GLI SEMBRA TROPPO DIFFICILE e che egli si propone
più di riportare le dottrine dei Padri che di accrescerle: Diffìcile mihi
fateor hanc quaesti onem, praecipue cum ex praedictis oriatur quaei
siniilem videntur habere rationem quod meaei intelligentiae attendens
infirmitas turbatur, cupiens magis ea dictis sanctorum referre. Il De Vulf, Hist,
de la phil. Medievale, Louvain, come il Dknefle da un troppo reciso
apprezzamento. Ces sinthèses thèologiquea, dont la premiere idee semble
appartenir à Abelardo ètaient appellées a un succès immense. Il faut en
chercher le secret dans le besoins de la classification et d'
orgànisation qu^on eprouvait devant la masse des materiaux rassemblès, bien
plus que dans l’originante de ceux qui ont appose leur signature a
ce travail de mise en oeuvre. Cosicché il libro fatto per conciliare
ogni controversia sembrò sortire l'effetto contrario. Erasmits in Mattaei
I, iP (cit. Da Fabricius, Bib. m. aevi) e Siquidem apparet illum hoc
egisse ut semel collectis quae ad rem pertinpbant, questiones omnes
excluderet. Sed ea res in diversum exiit. Videmus enim ex eo opere
nunquam fìnìendarum quaestionum non exanima sed maria prorupisse. Flettrt,
Hist eccl. Paris] ri quam uff erre >k E limsce col
coaicmiDa^e. Eam tameu quaestionjeon
leolorum ddligentiae plenius dijudicandam atque absolvendam ireiiinquimus ad
hoc minus sufficientes. Perciò l'opera del Sentenziario ha un intento
assai modesto, né presume di sciogliere ogni dubbio e di dirimere ogni
questione. Qui il Maestro risentei della scuola di Abelardo il quale (nel
trattato Sic et non riconosceva ai pastori il diritto di emendare le
opere dei dottori della Chaesa (Migne) « Hoc et ipsi eccleisiastici
dactores attendentes et nonnulla in suis operibus corri- genda esse
credentes posteris suis emendaindi vel non se- quendi licentiam
concesserunt ». E il nostro C. così dice di sé : (Sent.
in prol.): In hoc aulem tractatu, non
solum pium leolorem, sed etiam correctionem desidero, maxime ubi
prolunda versatur veritatis quaestio, quae utinam tot haberet inventores
quot habet contradictores ! » Il libro delle Sentenze dove così
riuscire più accetto giacché il giogo del dogma era imposto alla libera
riflessione del pensiero con assai più illuminata larghezza che non fosse
abitudine del passato. Tanto che parve a più d'uno dei suoi contemporanei
la sua dottrina pericolosa e Giovanni di Goimovaglia potè chiamarlo uno
dei quattro labirinti della teologia ponendolo allo stesso livello di
Gi- jDerto Porretano, Pietro di Podtiers, Abelardo. Scopo di C.
è di fare un trattato che risparmiasse al lettore tempo e fatica. È per
rispetto ai suoi tempi un volgarizzatore della scienza teologica dispersa
ne^ libri canonici e negli scritti malagevoli dei Padri e incompiutamente
contenuta nei libri di Abelardo, PuUeyn, Ugo di S. Vittore. Egli compila una
specie di Enciclopedia teologica ove il lettore avesse a trovare senza
sforzo tutto quanto gli facesse al ciaso. Però avverte nel Prologo. «
JNon igitur debet hic labor cuiquam pigro vel multum docto videri
superfluus, cum multis impigris multisque indoctìs, inter quos etiam et
mihi, sàt necessarius: brevi volumine complicans Patrum sentias,
appositis eonim te- stimoniis ut non sit necesse quaerenti librorum
numero- sitatem evolvere, cui brevitas quod quaeiritur oBert sine
labore». E cosi nel distribuire la materia egli seguì un
nuovo ordine sistematico e compiuto non seguito né da Ugo di S. Vittore,
né da Roberto PuUeyn, né da Abelardo {Am quali pure trasse assai dalle
sue doltrine) e pose a ciascun ca- pitolo un titolo per facilitare le
ricerche (Sani, in prol.) Ut autem quod quaeritur facilius oc- currat,
titulos quibus singnlarum capitula dislingumitur praemisimus.
Relijiiooe e scieoza. Giovanni Scoto Erigena
afferma che la teologia e la filosofia sono una sola e una medesima
scienza (1). Ma giustamente si poa&ono fare a questo punto delle
riserve perché la scuola e la chiesa si accodano nel dire che
l'ordine della ifede non é Tordine della jnagione e che sia pei filosofi
come per i teologi vi sono dei limita al proprio dominio. Con lutto ciò
la ragione e la fede non riusdroTio mai a vivere completamente separate.
Ed a torto credano alcuni che si cominciò propriamente dalla scolastica a
coffiy ciliare colla scienza la religione. Anche ai primi Padri
della Chiesa piacque di giovarsi di entrambe e Clemente Dragone, Agostino,
sono nello stesso tempo filosofi e teologi. L'opposizione alla filosofìa
come indegna di essere applicata ai veri divini, non fu più propria e
peculiare dell'età patristica che della scolastica, le quali non
sono già in opposizione, ma Funa é naturale svolgimento del-
l'altra. Questo sforzo di comporre il dissidio ira Taulo- rità e la
speculazione filosofica si continuò per tutta i se^ coli fino al nostro SERBATI
che parlando dell età dei Padri e dei Dottotti scrive. L'uomo allora
sentiva altamente che la teologia non era divisa da luii, e che, sebbene
ella travalicasse, per l'origine e la sostanza, i limiti della natura,
passava dal ragionevole al rivelato, quasi ascendendo da un palco
in* (1) De praedestinatione (Collection de Mangin). Coniicitur inde
veram esse philosophiam veram religionem, conversimque veram religionem esse
veram philosophiam, cit. in Coasin Cours de la phU, I p.
344. feriare ad un altro superiore dello slesso palagio delia mente,
con un solo disegno da Dio fabbricatogli. La teologia in quell'età
era senza contrasto la conduttrice e la custode di tutte le altre
scienze, la signora delle opinioni. Chi avrebbe allora pensato che sarebbe
venuto un altro tempo in cui alcuni pensassero doversd la teologia dividere
interamente dalla FILOSOFIA? Vediamo ora in quale rapporto si tirovassero le
verità teosofiche colle verità filosofiche nel pensiero di Pier
bombardo. 11 Maestro si attiene in massima alle parole d’Agostino
(sup. Joan). Credimus ut cognoscamus, non cognoscimus ut credamus. E
nella distinzione XXII del libro III, là dove esaminia si Christus in
morte fuit homo, e risponde che benché Pietro morì come uomo, tuttavia
era in morte Dio ed uomo, non mortale e non immortale, e tuttavia vero
uomo, dice a coloro che voglioo io troppo sotìsticare sulla ragione di
ciò. Illae enim et Jiujusmodi argutiae in creaturis locum habent sed
fidei sacramentum a philosophicis est liber. linde Ambrosius (De. fide):
Aufer argiimenta, ubi fides guaeritur. In ipsis gymnasìis suis dam dialectica
taceat, piscatoribus creditur, non diaileoticis. Ma questa fede da
pescatori però, C. aggiuge più oltre, non è cosa a noi lutto affatto
estranea, peirchè essa non può essere di ciò che l'animo ignora. E
qui egli sente rinllusso del misticismo del suo- protettore. Bernardo e
dei Vittorini che primi lo accolsero a Parigi (Sent. Ili dist.). Cum fides sit
ex auditu non modo exteriori sed etiam interiori, non potest esse
de eo quod animo ignoratur. Ancora è necessario fare con Agostino una distinlone.
Alcune cose non sono intese se prima non si credono. Ma è pure vero che alcune
cose non si possono credere se prima non sono intese, come la fede in Dio
che [Opere edite ed inedite di SERBATI Introd. alla Filosofia Casale Tip.
Casuccio p« 48 sgg. Per maggiori notizie sul tei- smo degli scolastici
vedi : P. D'Ercole — Il teismo filosofico cristiano Torino — Pbantl - Geschicte d. Logik] viene
dalla predicazione, e queste pai per la fede intendono di più. Uoc. cil.).
Ex his apparet quaedam intelligi aliquando etiam antequam credanlur al nunc
eliam per tldem ampiius intelligìintur linde colligdtur quaedam non credi
nisi prius intelligantur et ipsa per fidem ampiius inleJlegi. Quanto
poi alle cose che mima sono credute che comprese esse non sd ignorano ael
lutto perchè anche si amano (Sen.). Nec ea quae prius creduntur penitus
ignorantur tamen ex parte, quia non sciumtur. Creditur ergo quod ignoratur
non penitus sdcut etiam amatur, quod ignoratur. Pensiero ripetuto in AQUINO
ed in ALIGHIERI. In conclusione C. si libra Ira un misticismo ed un
razionalismo temperato non sfuggendo alla contraddizione, ma
affronlaaidola. Il suo concetto è quello che informa in gran parte il
cattolicismo. La fede non distrugge la ragione ma al contrario le da ali
più potenli per sollevarsi. Ed è in questo senso che bisogna
mtendere le parole d’Agostino: Intellectum ualde cana, e quelle d’Anselmo:
Fides quaerens intellectum. Principia rerum inquirenda sunt prius ut
earum notitia plenior haberì possi t. (Prol. in Collectanea). Dell’arti e
delle scienza del trivio e del quadrivio, secondo la celebre
classificazione data da Marciano Capella e riprodotta da BRIUZI e da Isidoro,
LA DIALETTICA ovverosia la logica che da principio parve una scienza
preparatoria avente per ogge'tio più le parole che le cose, acquistò nelle
scuole un tale sviluppo che fini col proporsà i più alti problemi metafisici
e diventare la prima delle scienze. Tra questi problemi, il più importante,
anzi il fondamentale che sembra raggruppare sotto di sé tutti gl’altri,
ed agitò potentemente l'età di cui parliamo, è il problema degl’universali,
quale LA FILOSOFIA si è posto innanzi in tutti i tempi. Protois scrive che
la questione degl’universali ha a suo autore Roiscelino. Ma ciò è per lo
meno detto male. Già Aristotele nel LIZIO si è posto innanzi il problema
nelle “Categorie” ed in molti altri suoi libri; e nella prefazione
della Isagoge di Porfirio tradotta da BOEZIO, esso è pure [Haurbaux — De
la philosophie scoi. Paris] enuniciato, ma non risolto, parendo esso al
commeintatore d’Aristotele di troppo grave importanza. Ecco le
parole Ui Porfirio. M Cosi tralascierò di dire SE I GENERI E LE SPECIA
SUSSISTONO o sono soltanto e puramente nei pensieii, se come bUSbisleaiti
sono corporei od incorpoi'ei, se sono fuori oppure entro le cose seìusibili e
con esse coeistenti: essendo troppo grave una tale impresa e rictiiedendo
maggiori ricerctxe Porfirio divide cosi il problema nelle sue III
questioni fondamentali e iu in tal modo che esso è segnalato ai
primi scolastici. I I generi e le specie sussistono per sé o
consistono semplicemente in puri pensieri ? II Come sussistenti, sono
essi corporei od mcorporei ? Ed infine: III sono essi separati dagl’oggetti
sensibili o sono contenuti negli oggetti stessi formando con essi qualche cosa
di coesistente? A ragione Porfirio reputa queste questioni di somma
difficoltà. Perchè comunque vi si risponda si è condotti nell'alto mare della
speculazione, ed ognuna di esse sembra pod risolversi nelle suprema
questione della quaile tutte dipendono : Che cosa è l’essere?
JNuUa di più naturale che gli scolastici inoltrandosi a disputare
di un tale argomento con molto ardire ed acutezza d mgegno, ma non con pari
preparazione filosofica sollevassero infinite e tempestose discussioni
che molto spesso non approdavano ad alcun risultato. Tre furono le
scuole principaU che si avviarono ad una diversa soluzione del problema:
quella dei REALISTI, dei NOMINALISTI, dei CONCETTUALISTI. Il nome di realisti è
dato a coloro che affermano che i
generi e le specie -- gli universali insomma -- sono una realtà sostanziale,
una vera entità distinta dall’altre. NOMINALISTI sono detti coloro che
negano la realtà di questi universali, e li ritenevano come semplici
concezioni astratte del soggetto ricondotte ad una idea comime per mezzo
della comparazione. Ma poiché questa conclusione, dovendo ammettere che
tutto ciò che v'ha di comune non è ohe im suono, un nome vuoto di significato,
flatus vocis, porta alla negazione di ogni scienza, sorsero i CONCETTUALISTI
i quali aggiungeno che un tale suono, im tal nome rappresenta un
pensiero, un concetto il quale proviene dalla somiglianza delle cose diverse: il che non è
sostanziale ma è percepito dall’intelligenza umana come inerente a una natura
individualmente deiterminata. Dopo che Scoto porta agl;estremi il realismo,
venne Roscelino che parve dirigere la dottrina del nominalismo contro lo
stesso dogma sollevando un grave scalpore nelle scuole. Poiché, se
nulla esiste che non sia individuale, il dogma del divino, uno in tre persone vienne
dalla ragione ricalzato nelle sue basi. È bensì un errore l'uso stesso d’armi
dialettiche prò e contro i misteri della fede, perchè l'ordine della fede
non è quello della ragione, ma d'altra parte è un errore rimediabile. Ed a
difesa della realtà univereale si leva AOSTA (si veda), prima abate di Bec in Normandia poi
arcivescovo di Cantorberv e Guglielmo di Chamoeaux, il fiero avversario d’Abelardo.
Ed è quella del primo propriamente un realismo mistico, quello del secondo un
realismo scientifico. Abelardo poi è il capo riconosciuto, a volte
vincitore, a volle vinto, del CONCETTUALISMO, col anale si possono trovare
molti riscontri nella filosofìa moderna. Quale dove essere l'opinione dei
Dottori della Chiesa in tanto contrasto di idee? Evidentemente
nessuna delle suesposte- se e quando lo notevano. I realisti confondeno
le cose con la generalità delle idee, i concettualisti negano il reale
fondamento delle idee universali, i nominalisti le idee stesse. I dottori non possono
appartenere a nessuna di queste dottrine pericolose. Essi doveno essere tratti
a trovare un criterio conciliativo, né ciò è diffìcile, secondo l'avviso
dellHaureau. E quale è questo criterio? La specie non è solamente un concetto.
Essa è altresì una cosa, non una cosa in sé, a parte dell’oggetto sensibie,
ma nna cosa facente parte con essi, formante con essi qualche cosa di co-esistente.
Tale a un dipresso la posizione dei dottori tra le scuole che divideno i
logici disputanti, corrispondenti sotto altro nome alla scuola
dell'idealismo critico ed alla scuola dell’idealismo
trascendentale. Tra questi dottori concilianti che l'Haureau non propriamente
chiama indifferenti si trova il nostro Maestro delle sentenze, il quale
pero non si occupa espressamente della questione, ma solo ne tratta per
incidenza, ragionando della Trinità nel 1 libro delle Sentenze. Per C., l'universale
non è come per Guglielmo di Champeaux un solo essere dappertutto identico
e però difficile a comprendere, ma al
contrario colla moltiplicazione numerica dell'individuo diventa anche in
essenza tante volle accresciuto. Se l’animale è il genere, dice il Maestro, e IL
CAVALLO la specie si avranno III CAVALLI ed anche tre ammali (Sent. I d. XIX,
8) CVM SI ANIMAL GENVS ET EQVVS SPECIES APPELLANTUR III EQVI IIDEMQVE ANIMALIA.
Perciò, quando la specie può dirsi triplice devono anche essere III
gli individui. Tutto dunque si raccoglie nell'individuo. Ma egli poi
aggiunge : SMITH, JONES, WILLIAMS -- Abramo, Isacco, Giacobbe sono tre
individui. Ma, nello stesso tempo, anche tre uomini e tre animali. Specie
e genere non sono quindi forme soggettive, ma un oggetto che è nelle cose poste
al difuori di noi. Ma non si dirà che l'essenza divina è una specie
e le persone individui, come è specie Tuomo e sono individui Àbramo, Isacco e
Giacobbe. Poiché se l’essenza divina fosse una specie come l’uomo, come
non si direbbe che Abramo, Isacco e Giacobbe sono un sol uomo cosi
non si direbbe una essenza essere tre persone (Sent.)..Sicut enim dicuntur
Abraham, Isaac, lacob, TRIA INDIVIDUA ITA TRES HOMINES ET TRIA ANIMALIA 10:
Nec speoies est essentia divina et persona individua, sicut homo species
est, individua autem Abraham, Isaac et lacob. Si enim essentia specìes est
ut homo sicut non dicitur unus homo esse Abraham, Isaac et lacob.
ita non dicitur una essentia esse tres personas. Il Maestro quindi, a mio
parere, non nega all’universale un fondamento reale in quanto però va unito
all’oggetto sensibile, ma distingue nettamente le cose temporali dalle
cose divine alle quali NON convengono i nomi di universale e di
partìcdare e le distinzioni della logica. Abael hist. cai.:Erat
antem in ea sententia de communitate universaliam, nt eandem essenti ali ter
rem totam simtil singulis suis inesse astrueret individuis. cfr.
Espenberg — Die phil. d C. EsPENBEROER. « Art nnd Gattung sind dem- nach
nicht subjektive Gebilde, sondern objektiv in der una mngebenden Auszenwelt
begrìindet », Teoria della coi>osc^i>za. i\el
Gommenlario delle Epistole di S. Paolo C. -venendo a parlare delle visioni le
distingue 'n tre generi: corporali, spirituali, intellettuali. E le
ultime sono le. più perfette perchè vedono non cogli occhi corporali ó
colla immaginazione, ma per sé stesse. Qui il Maestro viene a toccare sebbene
in modo indiretto della conoscenza che noi abbiamo coi sensi corporali, ei di
quella che acquistiamo colla memoria, la quale ci ripresenta immagini
vere quali abbiamo già apprese coi sensi o finte quali rimmagin azione
forma secondo il suo potere (Collectanea in epist. ad Cor. II, 12). In bis
tribus generibus (scil. visionis) illud primum manifestum est om-
nibus quo vid'etur coelum et omnia oculis conspicua. Nec illud alterum
quo absentia oorporalia cogitantur, insi- nuare difficile. Coelum enim et
terram et quae in eis videre possumus, etiam in eis constituti cogitamus. Et
ali- quaiido nihil videntes oculis corporis* animo tamen corporales
imagines intuemur vel veras sicut ipsa corpora vidimus et memoria
retinemus vel fictas sicut cogitatio formare potuerit. Aliter cogitamur
quae novimus, aliter quae non «novimus w. Altrove nel
Commentario dei Salmi paragona la me- moria al ventre che riceve i cibi :
(Comm.) Sicut enim venter escasi recipit ita memoria rerum tenet notitiam.
Nel libro III delle Scinlenze C. pariando della fede dice che essa si
riferisce soltanto alle cose che non ci appaiono è sostanza di cose
sperate come disse Paolo e ripetè poi ALIGHIERI (1), che conobbe il
Maestro forse più d’AQUINO. E qui contrappone la fede alla conoscenza che
si ha delle cose evidenti, tra te qiiali pone anche l'anima deiruomo che
sebbene non veduta, è da lui intuita cogitando. Concetto raccolto poi e
svilupipato da Cartesio, il quale prende la coscienza umana come il punto
di par- [Paolo (Ep. ad Eb. XI\* « Est fides sperandanim
snbstan- tia rerum, argumentum non apparentinm . » — ALIGHIERI
(Par.): Fede è siLStanzìa di cose sperate - ed argomento dene non
parventi. ieaia dì ogni indagiiie filosofica ed argomenterà che IV
sistenza ci è data dal pensiero: cogito ergo sum. Sent.). c( Non sicul corpora
quae videmus oculis corporeis, et per ipsorum imagines quas memoria tenemus,
etiam absentia cogitamus; nec sicut ea quae non videmas et ex his quae videmus
cogitalionem utromque formamus, et memoriae commendamus, nec sicut hominem,
cuius animam etsi non videmus, ex nosbna coniicimus et ex motibus corporis
hominem sicut videndo didicimur, intuemur etiam cogitando: non sic vìdetur
fides in corde in quo est, .ab eo cuius est, sed eam tenel
oerliseima scientia. CosH nel capitolo già citato delle CoUectanea, il
Maestro tocca della conoscenza che noi abbiamo del nostro intelletto
intellicfendo . E' insomma nella ragione stessa la spiegazione della
nostra ragione (In epist. ad Cor.) Hac visione quae didtur
intellectualis ea cemuntur, quae nec cemuntur corporea, nec ullas gerunt
formas similes corponim, velui ipsa mens et omuis animae affectio
bona. Quo enim alio modo nisi intellisrendo intellectus consoicitur?
Nullo. ». C. paragona l’intellieenza ad una luce interiore che
illumina res<=ere intelligente: (im epist. ad Eph.). Omnis qui
inteiligit quadam luce interi ore illusfrRtiir». Ripete in sostanza
il concetto già espresso da S. Agostino: (in ps. 41 n. 2
Mierne) « omnis qui inteiligit luce quadam non corporali, non carnali,
non exteriore sed interiore illustratur ». Chiarito il modo
di conoscere, resta a parlare dell'oggetto della conoscenza. Che cosa è il
vero? Tutto che è è vero, secondo il concetto della filosofia
patristica, come, e questo Io si vedrà in appresso, tutto ciò che è è
pure buono. Il falso va inteso in un sen®o del tutto privativo, cioè non
è sostanza di qualche cosa, non è ciò che è, ma è ciò che non è.
(In ps.). Veritas enim est de eo quod est. Men- dacium vero non est
subslantia vel natura ìd est, non est de eo, quod est natuiraliter, sed
de eo, quod non est. Ed in altro luogo dice il Maestro : la verità è ciò
che è come vien detto : (in ps.). Veritas est cum res ita est cum
dicitur. Quia ip9e diodi ei faeta suut Paolo
Sostanza e^ accM^ote. S. Agostino concepiva la
sostanza come il concetto di assenza o di naliu-a preso in senso generale
da subsistere peirchè ogni cosa sussiste a sé slessa : omn«is enim res
ad se ipsam subsistil. Ma in senso più particolare, s'intende di
ciò che è soggetto d'altre cose come del colore, delle forane corporee,
ecc. J\on attrimenti Pier Lombardo: (sent.; in ps.). Substanlia intelligitur illud ouod
sumus: homo, pecus, terra, sol; omnia ista substantiae snnt : eo ipso quo
sunt naturae, ipsae substantiae dicun- tur. Nana et quod nulla est
substantia, nihil omnino est. Substantia enim est cdiquid esse ».
Ma in quest'ultima significazione, il detto .^oncetto non
appropriasi a Dio perchè Dio è semplice. (Sent.) « Res ei^o
anutabiles. . . proprie di- cuntur substantiae, deus autem, si subsistit,
ut substantia proprie dici possit, inest in eo aliquid in subiecto et
non est simplex ». E' quindi a torto che parlando di Dio si
dice che è una sostanza, perchè non vi è nulla in lui che non ©ia
Dio, e la parola sostanza non si dice propriamente che delle creature.
Parlando di Dio è meglio servirsi della parola essenza» Riguardo
all'accidente il maestro delle Sentenze è dello stesso avviso di BOEZIO
che lo definisce : (in Porph. ed. Basii) Accidens est quod adest et abest
praeter subiecli corruptionem. (Sent.) a non sicut ac- cidentia in
subiéctis quaé possunt abesse vel adesse ». S. Agostino e BOEZIO
sono i due filosofi ai quali iì nostro C. attinge con eguale misura. Nelle
Sentenze parla degli accidenti, cioè delle apparenze che gli sembrano
piuttosto esistere senza soggetto che essere nel soggetto, quali il
sapore ed il peso (accidenti) nel sa- cramento della Eucaristia, che sono
senza soggetto, poi- ché quivi non è altra sostanza che quella del sangue
e del corpo del Signore, che non soggiaciono a quelli accidenti.
Perciò son quegli accidenti per sé sussistenti. (Sent. IV d. XII,
1; in epist. ad Cor.). Si autem quaeritur de acciflentibus quae remanent
i. e. de speciebus et sapore et pondere, in quo subiecto fundentur,
potius mihi videtur fatendnm existere sine subiecto quam esse in
subiecto, quia ibi non est substantia nisi corporis et sangumis dominici,
quae non affìcitur illis accidentibus... remanent ergo illa accidentia
per se subsistentia ad my- slerium riti ». « Natura multiplex nomen
est. Nam et philosophi et e- thici et theologi usu plurimo ponunt hoc
nomen». Cosi Porrelano (in Boet.
ed. Basii). Ma se molli sono i nuovi significati presso i filosofi,
vediamo in quale senso più propriamente l'adopera il nostro Pier
Lombardo. Per lui natura è ciò che é concreata colla sostanza.
(Sent.). Substantiae nomine atque naturae dicunt signifìcari
substantias ipsas et ea quae naturali ter habent scilioet quae concreata
sunt eis sicut ani- ma naturaliter habet intellectum et imaginem et
volnnta- tem et huiusmodi». Le €086 che awemgano per causa seminale,
si dice che aweaigono secondo natura, quelle invece fuori natura
av- vengano soltanto per volontà divina. Ne viene che ogni creatura
obbedisce a leggi naturali. (Sent.). Et illa quae secund'um
cau- sam seminalem fìunt, dicuntur naturaliter fieri, quia ita
cursus naturae hominibus innotuit. Alia vero praeter natu- ram, quorum
causae tantum suni in deo... omnis creaturae cursus habet naturales leges.
yuale sarà dunque la legge naturale ? Quella che eb- bero anche i pagani
(2), che indica all'uomo ciò che è bene e ciò che è male e che si
riassume nel non fare agli altri ciò che non si vuole sia fatto a
noi. (in epist. ad Rom.). Etsi non habeat (s'cil. gentilis
homo) scriptam legem, habet tamen naturalem, qua intellexil et sibi
conscius est, quid sit bonum quidve malum; lex enim naturalis iniuriam
nemini inferre, nihil alienum praecipere, a fraude et penuria abstinere,
alieno coniugio non insidiari et caelera alia et ut breviter
dicatur nolle aliis facere auod tibi non vis fieri. Quanto poi alla
persona, il Lombardo, parte dal con- cetto ^ià enunciato da BOEZIO che la
persona è la sostanza individuale d'una natura ragionevole: (ed. Peiper).
Persona est naturae rationalis individua substantia. Ovunque noi troviamo una
sostanza individuale nella specie umana, ivi è una persona. Ma l'anima
che è so- stanza razionale, è dunque una persona? C. risponde
negativamente ricorrendo all'airtificio di parole ^à adoperato da BOEZIO
nel sfuo libro de duabus naturìs (ed. Peiper). Cioè Tanima è sostanza
razionale, ma non tuttavia persona, perchè non è per se sormns^
cioè è congiunta ad altra cosa. Dio solo può agire contro natura:
(Sent. loc cit) super hunc naturalem cursum Creator habet apud se posse
de omnibus facere aliud, quam eorum naturalis ratio habet; ut. scilicet,
vir^a arida re- pente fioreat, et fructum ^^at. et in juventute sterilis
femina, in senectute pariat, ut asina loquatur et huiusinodi. CICERONE,
De leg.; Atque, si natura confirmatura ius non erit, virtutes omnes
toUentur Nam haec nascuntur ex eo, quia natura propensi sumus ad
diligendos homines, quod fundamentum iuris est. (Sent.) Nam et modo anima
est substantia rationalis, non tamen persona, quia non est per se sonans,
imo alii rei comiuncta. Tuttavia l'anima è persona quando per se est:
onde quando è sciolta dal corpo è persona come è Fangelo.
(Sent.) « Anima, non est persona, quando alii rei unita est
personaliter absoluta enim a corpore persona est siculi angelus.
U^ià Agostino parla di una materia informe dalla quale
sarebbero derivate tulle lè cose che sono distinte e formate.
(de genes. contra Manich. I, 5, 9 Migne). Primo ergo materia facta est
confusa et informis unde omnia fìerenl quae distincta atqua formata sunt,
quod credo a graecis caos appellari). Così pure BOEZIO (edit Basii
p. 1138) parla di una materia informe e siemplice come la ale e di una
materia formata e non semplice come i corpi. Anche per C. le cose create
furono formate da una materia informe (I'n ps.). Quoniam ipse dixit,
idest voluit et facta sunt (scil. coelum et terra) id est formata de informi
materia. E cosi pure nel secondo libro delle Sentenze : (dist.). Alii vero hoc
magis probaverunt et asseruerunt, ut prima materia rudis atque informis creata
sii Postmodum vero ex illa materia rerum corporalium genera sunt formata
secundum species propria. D’Agostino C. deriva pure il suo concetto
della forma. (Sent.) « Dicit Augustinus causas primordiales omnium
rerum in deo esse mducens simili- ludinem artifìcis in cuius dispositione
est qualis futura sii arca. Il Maestro ripete a questo punto
appoggiandosi intieramente ad Agostino quanto Abelardo e Gilberto Prretano
dicono con compiuto linguaggio scientifico quando chiamaiio le idee forme
esemplari della mente divina. Non così chiara come in questi elementi
platonici è l'idea della forma presso i sentenziarii ai tempi
aristotelici. Causalità. Qui il Maestro dà questa definizione della idea di
causa. Tutto ciò che in sé permanendo genera od opera qualche cosa, è il
principio, ossia la causa di ciò che genera od opera. (Sent.). Si
autem quicquid in se manet et gignit vel operatur aliquid, principium est
eius rei quam gignit vel edus quam operatur. Dio però si dice eh fa ed
opera qualche cosa, per- chè è la causa delle cose scientemente
esistenti. (Sent.). Deus ergo aliquid agere vel facere dicitur,
quia causa est rerum noviter existentium. Con ciò vien presupposto che
tutto ciò che avviene, avviene per una causa necessaria e che nulla nasce
che non sia preceduto da una legittima cagione. C. in seguito si domanda
se nulla possa sfuggire o questa legge di causalità e possa awemare per
caso. Ma egli risponde : se qualche cosa avviene nel mondo per
caso, non tutto il mondo è regolato dalla divina pìnovvi- denza. Se non tutto
il mondo è regolato dalla divina provvidenza, v'è qualche natura o
sostanza che non appartiene all'opera della Providenza. Ma tutto ciò che è,
è buono per la partecipazione di quel bene che noi chiamia- mo
divina provvidenza. Nulla dunque può avvenire per caso. Inutile è il
notare che questo argomento si trova già in Agostino, Ugo di S. Vittore,
Abelairdo. (Sent.) « Si ergo casu aliqua fiunt in mundo, non
providentia universus mundus administratur. Si non providentia universus
mundus administratur, ali- [Vedi EspuNBKBOBB] qua natura vel substanlia
est quod ad opus providentiae non pertinel. Omne autem quod est... boni
illius parteci- patione... bonum est, quod divinum bonum
provideoliam vocamus. JNihil ergo casu flit in mundo. Le nozioni di
spazio e di misura, ci vengono date da C., laddove parla di Dio che è
immensurabile ed iniCBteso. (Sent.) Neque dime(nsionem
habet (sdì. deus) sicut corpus cui secundimi locum assigmatur
principium, medium et finis et ante et retro, dextera et smistra, sursum
et deorsum quod sui interpositione facit distantiam et circumstantiam...
dicitur in Scriptura aliquid locale sive circumscriplibile et e converso, sci!,
quia diimensionem (bapierus longiltudinis et latitudinis distaai-
liam lacit in loco ut corpus. Più avanti definisce il luogo nello spazio
ciò che è occupato in lunghezza, altezza e larghezza da un corpo (Sent.)
« Locais in spatio est quod lop- giludine et altitudine et latitudine
corporis oocupatur)). Come Dio neppure gli spiriti creati possono
essere circonscritti nello spazio. Essi però possono in certo modo
essere locali perchè quando si trovano in un luogo (non si trovano in un
altro : però non hanno dimensioni e per quanto siano numerosi, non
possono riempirlo. (Sent.) « Spiritus vero creatus quo-
dammodo est localis, quodammodo non e®t localis. Localis quidem dicitur,
quia definitione loci terminatur, quoniam cum alicubi praesens sit totus,
alibi non invenitur. Non autem ita localòs est ut dimensionem capiens
distantiam in loco faciat. C. infine conclude che Dio non si muove né
nello spazio, né nel tempo, che Tanima si muove nel tempo, ed il corpo
nelo spazio e nel tempo. Di qui le loro diverse natuire. Ecce hic
aperte oistendilur, quodi nec locis aec temporibus mutatur vel movetur
Deus, spiritualis au- tem natura per tempus unovetur, corporalis vero
etiam per tempus et locmnn. Che cosa è il tempo ? Ad
una tale domanda cosi risponde S. Agostino nelle Confessioni: Se nessuno
me lo chiede lo so; se voglio spiegarlo a chi me lo chieda non lo so: con
piena fede dico tuttavia di sapere che se nulla passasse, non vi
sa- rebbe un tempo passato e se nulla dovesse avvenire^ non vi
sarebbe un tempo futuro, e se nulla fosse non vi sareb- be un teimpo
presente. C. definisce il tempo, la variazione delle qualità che
sono nella stessa cosa che si muta. (Sent. ) <( Mutari autem per
tempus est variari secundum qualitates quae sunt in ipsa re quae
mutatur... Haec enim mutatio qua fìt secundum tempus, vanatio est
qualitalum . . . et ideo vocatur tempus». L'eternità fa antilesi al
tempo. Il Lombardo come A- belardo ripete qui le parole di Boezio:
Stabilisque ma- nens das cuncta momri quando dice: (In ps.) «Et
video, id est sciam, quoniam tu es proprie qui stabiEs ma- nens das
cuncta moveri. Garattei'a appunto dell'eternità è la stabilità, del tem-
po la mutabilità (in epist. ad Hebr. I) « In aeternitate enim stabilitas
est, in tempoire autem varietas ; m ae- ternitate omnia stamit, in
tamporei alia aocedunt, alia suc- fcedHint. Il problema cosmologico si
presenta al Maestro nel libro II delle Sentenze alla prima distinzione.
Egli dimostra sulla fede delle Sacre Scritture, che non vi è che un
prin- MiGNB ( Espenberger). Quid
est tempus? Si nemo ex me quaerat, scio; si quaerenti expli- care velim
nescio: fidenter tamen dico scire me, quod si nihil prae- teriret, non
esset praeteritum tempus ; etsinihil adveniret, non esset fUtunim tempus,
ei si nihil esset, non esset praesens tempus , cipio solo di tulle le
cose. Alcuni (ilosoli, come Platone ed Anstolile, avevano pensalo che il
mondo avesse molti principii, che la materia che lo comipone fosse
increata ed eterna, che Dio non ne fosse punto il Greatore, ma sem.-
plicamente l' oa^ganizzatore. Ma la dottrina cattolica al contrario ci
insegna che Dio solo, principio di tutte le cose, ha tutto crealo dal
nulla, le cose visibili e le invisibili, il cielo e la terra (Sent.). Creationem
rerum insinuans Scrip- tura deum esse creatorem initiumque temporis atque
om- nium visibilium ved invisibilium creaturarum in primordio suo
ostendìft dicens (g:en. I, 1) In principio creavit deus caelum et terram.
His enim verbis Moyses... in uno principio a deo creatore mundum factum
refert elidens errorem quorundam plura sine principio fuisse opinantium.
Plato namque tria inilia existimavit deum scilicet exemplar et matenam et
ipsam mcreatam sine principio et deum quasi artificem non creatorem.
E altrove conferma che il mondo non è coetemo a Dio e senza alcun
principio, ma creato da Dio come in- segna la scrittura. (in
ps.) « Quia ipse dixit et faota sunt — hoc dicit contra illos qui dicunt
mundum deo coateoiimn. Dio creò ogni cosa dal nulla : creare è
propriamente ricavare qualche cosa dal nulla : onde a Dio solo
compete il nome di creatore (Sent.). Creator enim est, qui de nihilo
ali- quid facit. Et creare proprie est de nihilo aliquid facere hoc nomen
(scilicet creator) soli deo proprie congruit... Ipse est ergo creator et
opifex et factor. C. passa poi ad
esamina-re la creazione del mondo e specialmente .l'opera dei sei giorni
commentando il racconto della Genesi. Le spiegazioni ch'egli offre,
sono tolte ai padri antichi tra i quali S. Ambrogio, Agostino, Gregorio,
il venerabile Beda e Giovanni Grisostomo. Insieme con vedute geniali e
profonde, si trovano in quella parte dei suoi libri ove si paria della
creazione, alcune teorie che le scienze naturali hanno poi
definitivamente condannate. Basta ricordare la teoria dei quattro
elementi di cui si compone il cosmo, e quella che considera il fir-
mamento come una immensa volta solida alla quale sono attaccati gli
astri, e Topinione che i piccoli insetti nascano
&6 dalla corruzione dei carpi organici. Ma il Lombardo
espone la scienza dal secolo decimosecondo : d'altronde egli di
tali cose sembra parlare in forma dubitativa e come è suo costume
non fa che esprimere le opinioni che ai suoi tempi correvano.
dell'uorpo o^il'unlv^rso* Là dove parla della creazione, il
Maestro pada anche del fine per il quale l'uomo e l'angelo furono creati.
La somma bontà divina ha voluto far parte della sua felicità etema
a due delle sue creature, all'angelo ed all'uomo : perciò li creè
ragionevoli affinchè conoscessero il sommo bene, l'amassero, ed amandolo
lo jK>ssedesseiro e posse- dendolo fossero felici. L'angelo di natura
incorporea e l'uomo composto di anima e di corpo furono creati per
lodare e per servire Iddio; non già perchè questi abbia bi- sogno dei
servigi umani, ma affinchè l'uomo godesse nel servirlo, poiché in questo
si giova chi serve e non colui al quale si serve. (Sent.) Factus
ergo... homo projter deum dicitur esse, non quia creator deus et summe
beatus alte- rutrius indiguerit officio... sed ut servirei ei ac
fruirelur.'.. in hoc ergo proficit serviens... non ille cui servi
tur. Pensiero che vien perfezionato da S. Tommaso (Sum.
contra gentes II, 46) e dall'ALIGHIERI (Parad.): Non per avere a sé
di bene acquisto Ch'esser non può, ma perchè suo splendore Potesse
risplendendo, dir: Subsisto. In seguito aggiunge che come l'uomo è
stato fatto per Dio, così il mondo per l'uomo, il quale si trova in
un mezzo tra ciò che a lui serve e ciò a cui egli stesso deve
servire. (Sent. II, I, 8) « Et sicut factus est homo propter
deum i. e. ut ei serviret, ita mundus factus est propter
é6 hominem, scil. ut ei servirei. Positus est ergo homo
'n medio ut et ei servirelur et ipse serviret; ut acciperet u-
trumque et reflueret totum ad bonum hominis et quod ac- cepit obsequium
et quod impeffidit... ». L uomo infine si distingue da tutti gli
altri animali per la sua aspirazione alle cose superne, ed è perciò
che egli ha il corpo eretto e quasi rivolto al cielo. (Sent.) «
Ecce osl^isum est, secundum quid sit homo similis dei... Sed in corpore
quaaidam pro- prieitatem habet quae haec indicat, quia §st erecta
statura secundum quam corpus ajiimae rationali congruit, quia a
caelum erectum est ». È LO STESSO CONCETTO DI CICERONE (De legibus).
Nam quum caeteras animantes abiecisset ad pastum, solum hominem erexit ad
caelique quasi cognationis domiciliique pristini conspectum excitavit.
E non di CICERONE soltanto. Tra i gentili cf. OVIDIO Metamorf. I,
84-86 SALLUSTIO Catil. Tra i filosofi cristiani Agostino (de gen. centra
Manich. I, XVII), BRUZI (de anima cap. IX) Beda (in hexaem I) Abelardo
(in hexaem). Tantum enim, ut tradit auctoritas, cognoscit ibi
quiHque quantum diligit. (Sent.) Foteoze d^ll'anirpa. 11 problema
psicologico veniva proposto da Ugo di S. Vittore in queisti termini: (de
sacram.) yuaerunlur autem quiam plurima de origine animae, quando
creata fuit et tolde creala fuit et qualis creata fuit. (cfr. August. de
quant. animae I, 1). August. de quant. animae). Era questione
tra i filosofi secondo Giovanni di Salisbury (Mei.) se fosse una sola potenza
la quale ora sentisse, ora ricoondasse, ora immaginasse o se pur
rimanendo l'anima semplice, essa fosse dotata di molte potenze (MieNB). Recolo
enim fuisse philosophos, quibus placuit, sicut incorpoream simplicem et
individuam esse substan- tiam animae, ita et unam esse potentiam, quam
multipliciter prò rerum diversitate exercet. Eorum ergo opinio est, quod
eadem po- tentia, nunc sentiat, nunc memoretur, nunc immaginetur; nunc
di- scemat investigando nunc investigata assequendo intelligat. Sed
plures sunt e contrario sentientes animam quidem quantitatem simpli- cem,
sed qualitatibus compositam et sicut multis obnoxiam passio- nibus, sic
multis potentiis utentem ». V. Espenberger. C. si attiene in ciò a S. Agostino
e definisce quei^le potenze come naturali proprietà dell'anima, yueste
sono una sola sostanza ed esistono nell'animo so- stanzialmente; e noiii
accidentalmente : poiché sebbene rela- tive tra di loro ciascuna è
sostanzialmente nella sostanza oell animo. (Sent.) « Hic
attendendum est ex quo sensu accipiendum sit quod supra dixit, illa tria,
scilicet memo- riam, intelligentiam, voluntatem esse unum, imam
mentem, unani essentiam, quod utique non videtur esse venim juxta
»pix>piietatem sermonis... Illa vero tria, naturales proprietales seu
vii-es sunt ipsius mentis. Sed jam videndum est quoniodo liaec tria
dicantur una substantia. Ideo quia sciJicet in ipsa anima vel mente
substantialiter existunt, non sicut accideiitia in subiectis, quae
possunt adesse vel abesse uiide Augustinus in lib. IX de Trm. cap.
5 alt : Admonemur, si utcumque videre possumus, haec in animo existere
substantialiter, non tanquam in subiecto, ut color in corpore; quia etsi
relative dicuntur ad invincem, singula tamen substantialiter sunt in
substantia sua. Spiegata cosi coli autorità altrui la natura delle potenze
dell anima, il Lombardo distingue nella ragione due parti : la parte
superiore che si volge alle ragioni eteme delle cose, la inferiore che si
piega a osservare le cose temporali! (Sent.) « Ratio vero vis
animae est superior, quae, ut ita dicamus, duas habet partes vel
differentias, superio- rem et inferiorem. Secundum superio«rem, supemis
con- spiciendis vel consulendis intendit; secundum inferiorem, ad
temporalium dispositionem conspicit ». Da ciò deriva la distinzione
ch'egli fa della sapienza e della scienza. La definizione che diedero gli
antichi della sapienza, cioè : Sapientia est rerum divinarum
humana- rumque scientia, va divisa cosi che sapienza si dica pro-
priamente della conoscenza delle cose divine, scienza della conoscenza
delle cose umane. (Sent.). Illa definitio dividenda est, ut
rerum divinarum oognitio sapientia proprie nuncupetur, hùmanarum vero
rerum cognitio proprie scientiae nomen obtineat. L'influsso mistico di S.
Bernardo suo protettore e dei suoi primi maestri di S. Vittore, si fa
sentire in C. là dove afferma che la maggiore o minore quantità di sapere
deriva dalla quantità di amore: (Sent.) Sed qui magis diligit plus coginioscit
». Abelardo definisce Tanima come una certa essenza spirituale e
semplice: (introd. ad theol. Ili, 6) « Anima quippe spiritualis quaedam
et simplex essentia est ». Non diversamente la definisce il nostro C. là dove dice (sent.) « Mens enim i. e.,
spiritus rationalis essentia est spiritualis et incorporea ». Così
Abelardo come C., si riconnettono a Agostino che in più luoghi dei libri
tratta deU anima -n quanto spirituale ed incorporea. L'anima si dice
semplice perchè non si diffonde in e- stensione, ma in qualunque corpo in
tutto o in qualsivoglia paorte di essa è intiera. Cosi quando avviene
qualche cosa nella più piccola parte del corpo, che sia avvertita dall'a-
nima benché non avvenga in tutto il corpo, tutta Tanima sente perchè non
tutta si tien nascosta. (Sent.) Simplex dicitur anima) quia
mole non diffunditur per spatium loci sed in unoquoque corpore et
in toto tota est et in qualibet eius parte tota est. Et ideo cum fit
aliquid in quavis exigua particula corporis quod sentiat anima, quamvis
non fiat in toto corpore, illa tamen tota sentit quia totam non latet. In
ciò segue C. la dottrina professata da Agostino e da Plotino, il primo nel
libro di trinitate, de quantitate animae, de immut, animae, il secondo in enn.
(edit Volkmanm). Ma se l’anima è semplice, dice il Lombardo nel
luogo citato, in confronto del corpo, per sé stessa non è semplice
ma molteplice. Poiché altro è essere operoso, altro Inerte, altro acuto,
altro memore, altro è desiderio, altro è ti- more, altro è letizia, altro
è tristizia, e queste cose ed altre dello stesso genere si possono
trovare nella natura delVa- nima ed alcune senza le altre ed alcune più
ed altre meno, onde è manifesto che la natura dell'anima non é semplice,
ma molteplice « unde manifestum est animae non sim- plicem
sed multiplicem esse naturam. In conclusione la natura dell’anima offre
due lati: è semplice da un lato se si paragona colla natura del
corpo molteplice se si paragona colle sue potenze Ma ranima è
altresì immortale. L'uomo è fatto a somiglianza di Dio e la somiglianza
nella essenza perchè essa è immortale ed indivisibile (Sent.) Factus est
homo ad similitudinem dei -- similitudo in essentia quia et immortalis eit indivisibilis
est. linde Augustinus, de quant, anim. Anima facta est similiter deo, quia
immortalem et indissolubilem fecit eam deus. Ma la filosofia scolastica fedele
al precetto: distingue prequenier^ come limita e divide il concetto della
semplicità deiranima cosi na limita e divìde quello della
immoortalilà, distinguendo il coooeilto della morte intesa in senso
asso- luto di annientamento da quello della stessa intesa in senso
relativo di mutazione : ed in quest'ultimo senso l’anima non è del tutto
immortale (Sent.) In omni mutabili natura nonnulla mors est ipsa mutatio
quia fecit aliquid in ea non esse quod erat, unde et anima humana quae
ideo dicitur immortalis quia secundum modum suum nunquam desinit vivere^
ha- bet tamen quandam mortem suam. Riguardo all’origine dell’anima si
agitavano ai tempi di C. due diverse opinioni, l’una del traduzionismo
(1) che pretendeva che l’anima vienne generata come il corpo, l'altra del
creazionismo che pretendeva al contrario che è creata da Dio
direttamente. A quest ultima si attiene naturalmente C. con
Abelardo, Roberto PuUus, Ugo di S. Vittore. Dio creò ranima dal nulla
dice il Maestro: (Sent.) «Flatus factus est a deo, non de deo, non
dealiqua materia sed de Odo di Cambra!: (de pen. orig. II) « Sunt autem
multi qui volunt animam ex traduce fieri sicut corpus et cum corporis
semine vim etiam animae procedere » Vedi Espen. 6, I 101
nihilo ». Quindi cornhatte; ropinione di coloro che affer- maaio
con Origene che le anime sono state tutte create al principio del mondo,
e quella di coloro che con i Lu^ci- feriani e Cirillo ed alcuna dei
Latini pensano che Tanima si comunichi ai figli per generazione e nello
stesso modo che il corpo. Mentre Tanima non è infusa nel corpo che
quando esso è tonnato ed adatto a riceverla. (Sent.) Sed quicquìd
de anima primi hominis aestimeoitur, de alias certissime sentiendum est,
quod in corpore creentur; creando emim infundit eas deus et in-
fundendo creat ». E più avanti: (Sent.) e( Unde Augustiiniis in
ecclesiast, dogm. animas hominum di<rit non esse ab initio inter
creaturas intellectuales natuT^as nec simili creatas sicut Origenes
fìngit necque in corporibtis per coitum seminum sìcuT Luciferani et Cyrillns
et quidam LatiinoiTum praesuanptoìres affìrmant, sed dicimus corpus
tantum per coniugii oopulam seminari, creationem vero animae solum
cneiatoirem nosse eiusque iudicio formato iam corpore animam creavi atque
infimdi ». E nel libro IV spiega ancor meglio quest'ultimo
pen- siero ricorrendo all'esempio della casa e del suo abitatore
che vi entra soltaoito quando è ben costruita (Sent.). Sed iam formato
corpori anima datur, non ini conceptu corporis nascitur cum semine
de- rivata. Nam SI cum semina et anima existit de anima, tunc et
multae animae quotidie pereunt cum semen fluxu non proficit Ti'ativitati.
Primum oportet domum compaginari et sic habitatorem induci».
E qui è opportu/no ricordare che questa teoria dell'anima si trova pure
con poche varianti nel canto del Purgatorio laddove il Poeta discorre
della nascita dell'uomo e spiega come (Tanimal divenga fante.
Relazione tra Fanirpa ed il corpo. . Seguendo il concetto
aristotelico dell'età di mezzo, il Lombardo ritiene Tanima come forma del
corpo. (Sent.) « Formatum vero intelligitur corpus propria anima
animatum et informe quod nondum Habet animam. Un tal concetto va
intimamente collegato con un passo della Bibbia: (Exod.) « Si quis
percusserit mulierem praegnantem et aborlivum fecerit, sì adhuc in-
formalum fuerit, multabitur pecunia; quod si formatmn fuerit, reddel
animam prò anima », C. deride le favole di coloro che immagi- nano che le
anime siano rinchiuse nel corpo, come in un carcere, per i peccati
commessi in cielo (Sent.) Multi in fabulas, vanitatis abierunt dicenls, quod
animae sursum in caelo pecoant, et secundum peccata sua ad corponia prò meritis
diriguntur, et dignis sibi guasi carceribus includuntur. lerunt hi
tales post cogilationes suas et... versi sunt in profundum, dicentes
animas in caelo ante conversatas et ibi aliquid vel mali egisse et prò
meritis ad corpora terrena detrusas esse. Hoc autem respuit catholica
fides ». Ma invece Dio diede senso alla natura coirpoTea
perchè l’uomo capisse che se potè unire due cose cosi diverse, quali
l'anima è il corpo in una tale unità, non è impossibile ch'egli possa
partecipare per quanto umile alla sua gloria (Sent.) Lufeamque
materiam fecit ad vitae sensum vegetare, ut sciret homo, quia si potuit
deus tam disparem naturam corporis et animae in federationem unam et in
amicitiam tantam coniungere, nequaquam ei impossibile futurum rationalis
creaturae humilitatem ad sua Rloriae partecipationem sublimare. C. non
crede che il corpo sia carcere dell'anima nel senso che sopra si è detto,
perchè f)er es- sere opera di Dio è un bene: ma è pure un carcere
nel senso che il corpo a corrompe e corrompendosi aggrava l’anima (in
ps.) «Vel potius corpus est career non utique secundum id, quod deus
fecit ipsum bonum est, sed secundum id, quod comimpitur et aggravat
animam i. e. oorruptio eius quae venit ex peccali, career est. Altrove
chiama il corpo quasi strumento e servo del- Tanima : (in epist. ad Rom.)
« Si corpus, quo inferiore tamquam famulo vel instrumento utitur anima...
». E cosi pure si legge in un suo sermone : (2P De codem die: In passione
Domini seu in annuntiatione (Protois). Dominus est spiritus noster, anima
tamquam domina, corpus tanquam servus. Hi tres ini domo una cooperantur
et si oonveniunt in bono, vdr bonus intelligilur ». Che cosa è
infatti Tuoino se non un'aniina fornita di corpo? si domanda Ugo di S.
Vittore (1). Però a que- sto riguardo il Lombardo usa di una certa
moderazione; ed il suo modo di pensare intomo alla persona deiruomo
ci fa credere che egli dà un posto importante anche alla vita. Il Maestro
delle Sentenze sul finire del suo libro principe, cioè alla distinzione,
entra poi a discorreire della morte e della risurrezione del corpo.
E fu il padre Michele da Carbonara il primo a far notare la conformità
che vi è tra le dottrine svolte da Pier Lom- bardo e i luoghi della
Divina Commedia che parlano della risurrezione, quantuncfue la ragione
fondamentale di essa data dal Maestro diversifichi in sostanza da quella
data dal Poeta. Nella risurrezione ciascuna anima separata
riprenderà il coqx), ripigtierà sua carne e sua figura (Inf.)
quale era nel fiore della età: e sarà mage^iore allora la sua
beatitudine e la sua cognizione : « amplior erit eorum cognitio ». Ciò è
diffìcile a spiegarsi, dice il Maestro. Ma è certo che nell'anima è un
vivo desiderio di ripigliare il corpo; riunita al corpo Tanima ha
perfectum naturae suae modum ed ha ampliorem cognitionem.
Altri che verranno poi, si spingeranno più addentro nella questione
come farà S. Tommaso. Ma, dice il Carbonara, il Maestro sta come colui che tira
le linee più larghe d'un quadro, in suU'indeterm inalo; e si legga
at- [Sent., Migm. Quid enim est homo nisi anima habens corpus ? Nel
sermone 11 (in die Cineris ad poenitentes — .Ms. lat. in Protois p. 138): «vita
praesens messi comparatur et aestati, quia nunc inter ardores tentationum
colligenda sunt futurorum merita praemiorum. Carbonara, Dante e C. (Sent.)
con prefazione e per cura di Murari 2 ediz. Città di Castello Collezione di Opuscoli
Danteschi inediti o rari diretti da Passerini. tentamente questo
tratto « ^f mmor sU healitudo sanctorum post iudicium; sì leig'gta
attentamente e si vedrà che se vi è trailo che specchi il canto del
Paradiso, questo tratto è desso. La slessa queslfone, gli stessi punti
determinali; ma Insieme rindeterminatezza, il vago, che neirinsieme
domina il Maestro, si risente nel Poeta. Come la carne gloriosa e santa
Pia rivestita, la nostra persona Più grata fia, per esser tutta quanta
: (cperfeobum natuirae suae modum habebit anima».Omne qaod est, in
quantum est, bonum est. Tutta TEtica scolastica è necessariamente
compene- trala della dogmatica teologica. Quella di C. non diversa in
sostanza da quella dei suoi maestri^ si riat- taeca alle discussioni
teologiche intorno alla morale che ai suoi tempi si dibattevano. La
prima questione che ci conviene esaminare, è quella che riguarda il
libero esercizio della volontà. La libertà, pensa egli con Ugo di S.
Vittore (Sent.), di cui sente più volle l'influsso, chiede di poier
compiere non solo il male, ma anche il bene. (Sent.) « Verum nobis
magis placet ut ipsa libertas arbitrii sit et illa, qua magi® liber est
malum, et alia qua quis liber est ad bonum faciendum. Ex causis
enim variis sortitur diversa vocabula». Il Lombardie si chiede in
appresso quali fattori deter- minano la libertà umana e ne distingue due,
cioè la ra- gione e la volontà. La prima disceme tra il bene ed il
male, la seconda si muove con desiderio spontaneo ad effettuarlo. Ecco
la definizione e la spiegazione del libero arbitrio secondo C.
(Sent.). Liberum verum arbitrium est facultas rationis et
voluntatis, qua bonum eligitur gratia assistente, vel malum ea
desistente. Et dicitur liberum, duantum ad voluntatem quae ad utrumlibet
flecti potest. Arbitrium vero, quantum ad rationem, cuius est
facultas et potentia illa, cuius etiam est discemere inter bonum et
malum et aliquando quidem discrelionem habens boni et mali, quod malum
est eligit, aliquando vero quod bonum est...,.» e più avanti:
(Sent.) « Liberum ergo dicitur arbitrium quantum ad voluntatem,
quia voluntaTie moveri et sponta- neo appetitu ferri potest ad ea quae
bona vel mala indicet vel indicare potest ». Il Lombardo si
affretta poi a spiegare un passo di S. Agostino, ove questi afferma che
l'uomo perde il libero arbitrio dopo il peccato, onde si legge nei
Vangeli: (Pel.) A quo erdm devictus est, huic servus est (Vedi August.
enchirid. Migrie). TIon ciò non si vuol dire che l'uomo perde
intiera- mente la libertà, ma solo quella che ci trattiene dalla
mi- seria e dal peccato (Sent.) <( Ecce liberum arbitrium dicit
(scil. Augustinus) hominem amisisse; non quia post peccatum non habuerit
liberum arbitrium, sed quia libertatem arbitrii perdidit non quidem a
necessitate, sed libertatem a miseria et peccati. Est namque lib^rtas
triplex, scilicet a necessitate, a peccato, a miseria. A necessitate et
ante peccatum et post aeque liberum est arbitrium. Sicut enim lune
cogi non poterai, ila nec modo. Ideoque voluntas merito apud deum
indicalur, quae semper a necessitate libera est *i iiiunquam cogi potest.
Ubi necessitas, ibi non est libertas; ubi non est libertas, nec volunlas
et ideo nec merilum. Haec libertas in omnibus est tam in malis quam in
bonis. Il Sentenziario perciò nel suo Commentario nei Salmi (rimprovera
coloro che attribuiscono alle stelle ed al fato, la colpa dei loro
peccati facendone in certo modo respon- sabile Iddio, che è Tautoire del
creato: (in ps.) « Ila clamel aeger ad medicum, et dicat : Cum libero
ar- bitrio creavi! me Deus: ideoque si peccavi, ego peccavi non
fatum, non fortuna, non diabolus, me coegit : sed' ego persuadenti
consensi ». io: In conclusione, il maestro delle
Sentenze^ come già si è veduto, definisce il libero arbitrio un&
facoltà della ragione' e della vodontà colla quale si sceglie il bene
col soccorso della grazia od il male se la grazia ci manca. Ma
questa definizione, aggiunge l'autore, non conviene a Dio né ai santi che
par essere incapaci di peccare, hanno un libero arbitrio più perfetto. 11
libero arbitrio di Dio è la sua volontà ònnisapiente ed onnipotente, che
fa senza necessità e liberamente tutto ciò che le piace. Quella
degli angeh e dei santi non può più portarsi verso il male, perchè
essi sono coiiifermati neha beatitudine e neilla grazia. L'uomo dopo il
peccato ha pure conservato il suo, ma perchè egli voglia il bene gli è
necessaria la grazia del Redentore. La teoria del libero
arbitrio, che il Maestro professa, intesa a conciliaire il dogma coi
dettami della ragione, non sfugge, come è ben naturale, a gravi
difficoltà. Cosi egli è costretto per quaiinto si sforzi di provare il
contrario, a mettere l'uomo in una posizione non del tutto giusta,
rispetto alla sua libertà, poiché se egli fa il male, ne è tutta sua
colpa (ideoque si peccavi ego peccavi — in ps. loc. cit.) quantunqua non
possa andare ^nte dal peccalo, mentre se fa il bene, il merito è tutto di
Dio. (Sent.) « Non tamen sine libero arbitrio proveoiiunt
merita nostra, scilicet boni effectus eo-rumque progressus atque bona
opera quae Deus remunerat in no- Das et haec ipsa sunt Dei dona. Unde
Augustinus ad Sixtum presbyterum: Cum coronat Deus merita nostra
nihil aliud coronai quasn munera sua. Quamto poi alla obbiezione che se Dio sa
tutte le cose che debbono avvenire, noi non possiamo fare in altro
modo di quello che a lui è noto, dal che ne verrebbe la nega- zione
di ogni libertà umana, egli non oppone nulla in que- sto punto dove
espone la teorica del libero arbitrio. Ma noi possiamo conoscere il suo
parere in proposito, purché noi ci riportiamo a quel punto del libro P,
ove parla della prescienza di Dio, allora assai dibattuta dalle sette
sco- lastiche, come quella che sembrava condurre a riconoscere il
fatalismo. Il Maestro delle Sentenze per rispondere a questo argomento,
fa uso della distinzione così nota agli scolastici del senso composto e
del senso diviso, ovvero del senso congiuntivo e del disgiuntivo; cioè
che non si può dare che Dio abbia preveduto una cosa e ch'essa non
avvenga, ma è possibile che essa non avvenga, e allora Dio non Tavrebbe
preveduta. Sottigliezze a cui la scuola dogmatica è costretta a ricorrere
ogni qualvolta vien messa ale strette. Ondie il Pomponnazzi nel suo libro:
De Fato, libero (mbitrio et providentia Dei (V lib. Bàie) ove si
sforza egli pure si conciliare il destino la provvi- denza e la libertà
deiruomo, finisce col non saper dare altre soluzioni che quelle poste
innanzi dalla scolastica, confessando però che esse sono piuttosto delle
illusioni che delle vere risposte: Videntur potius esse illusiones
islae quam respomiones. Fine a cui tendiamo tutti é la felicità :
(sent.) « Beatos autem esse velie, omnium hominum esl ». C. ricorda le parole
di CICERONE: Beati certe omnes esse volufnus, ed è lontano dal
contraddirvi, ma anzi ne deduce che poiché tutti desiderano la felicità,
tutti ne hanno dentro di sé la conoscenza: «... sequitiu' ut omnes
beatam vitam sciant. Vediamo ora come procede il Lombardo neiranalisi
della felicità. Sul principio del primo libro egli comincia dal
distinguere la differenza che v*è tra usare di una cosa e fruirne. Usare
d'una cosa è adoperarla a compiere la nostra volontà, fruirne è usarne
con gioia, è aderirvi per amore e ciò non avviene in questa vita.
(Sent.) « Uti est assumere ali<juid! in f acultateni voluntatìs.
Frui autem est, uti cum gaudio, non adhuc spei sed jam rei... et ita in
hac vita non videmur frui sed tantum uti, ubi gaudeamus in spe, cum supra
dictum sit, frui esse amore dnhaerere alieni rei propter se : qualiter
etiam hic multi adhaerant De. ALIGHERI, Purgatorio: Ciascun
confusamente un bene apprende Nel qual si queti T animo, e desira:
Perchè di giugner lui ciascun contende. E poiché questo sembra far
iidsceire eontraddiàoni, egli la rivolse così chiarendo il suo concetto.
Tanto qui come nel futuro si può in certo modo fruire della beati-
tudine eterna, ma mentre in cielo noi la godremo in modo perfetto perchè,
come dice S. Agostino, l'avremo vicina qui in terra, non la godiamo che
per riflesso ed è ciò che ci fa sopportare i travagli della vita.
(Sent.) « Haec ergo quae sibi contradicere vi- demtur, sic
determinamus, dioente», nos et hic et in futuro frui : sed ibi proprie et
perfecle et piene ubi per speciem vi- debimus quo fruemur, hic autem, dum
in spe ambulamus fruimur quidem sed non adfeo piene... Idem (scil.
Augu- stinus) in Uh. de Doc. christ. ail (lib. I, cap. 30) : Angeli
ilio fruentas jam beati sunt quo et nos frui desideramus; et quaai'timi
in hac vita iam fruimur, vel per speculum, vel din aenigmate, tanto
nostram peregrinationem et lolera- bilius sustioemus et ardentius fruire
cupimus ». In questa teorioa il Lombardo si liem stretto a Agostino ed
esprime 41 medesimo comcetto che più tardi sarà svolto da S. Tom-
maso col fine mediato ed iumiediato. guanto alla questione, se si
possa gioire della virtù per sé stessa o solo come mezzo di acquistare la
vera fe- licità, egli si prova come è suo metodo di conciliare la
prima opinio*ne, che sembra confortata da un passo di Ambrogio, con la
seconda professata da S. Agostino, affermando che la virtù può essere
amata per sé slessa, ma che non dobbiamo fermarci lì, ma bisogna tendere
ad un fine più elevato e riferire la virtù a Dio come fine ul-
timo. Amoralità d^Ue aztooi urpaoe* Quali sono le azio^ni umane che
si debbono chiamare buone secondo C. e quali cattive ? Egli risponde
suirautorità di S. Ambrogio e di S. Agostino, che ciò che fa buona o
cattiva una azione è Tintenzione. Ed in ciò non discorda da Abelardo che
afferma appunto nelFEtica: « Unde ab eodem homine cum in diversis
temporibus Ilo idem fiat, prò divemsitate tametn
inlentionis eius operatio modo bona modo mala dicitm* ». Infatti il
Maestro nel libro secondo d^e Sentenze (dist. XI, 1) dice quasi allo
slesso modo : « Nam simpliciter ac vere sunt boni illi actus, qui
bonam causam et intentionem id est qui voluntatem bonam comitantur et ad
bonum finem tendunt: mali vero sim- pliciter dici debent qui perversam
habent causam et inten- tionem ». E cita a questo proposito le parole di
S. Ago- stino : (enarr. in ps.) « Bonum eriim opus intentio
facitìK In conseguenza è un'azióne buona confortare i po-
veri se si fa per compassione e misericordia : ma la stessa azione
diventa cattiva se la si fa per ambizione. Vi sono tuttavia delle azioni
le quali sono cattive per sé stesse e che la intenzione non può
rettificare: tali sono la menzogna e la bestemmia. Ksse poi sono
cattive in quanto sono privazioni dell'es- sere, perchè ogni cosa, in
quanto è, è buona : Omne quod est in quantum est bonum. L.a le^^e
fT)orale« Stabilito cosi guali sono le azioni buone o cattive, &
seconda dell'intenzione, restava a determinare quale è il caratieire
morale che deve contraddistinguere le nostre a- zioni e qual norma si
deve necessariamente seguire per muovere al bene : dione insomma dove
deve dirigersi- la buo- na intenzione. In coerenza colle dottrine da lui
professate, •il Maestro pone la regola delle azioni umane nella
legge divina : perciò il peccato consiste in una infrazione alla
legge divina (1). (Sent.) « Peocatum est omne dictum vel
factum vel concupitum quae fit contra legem Dei, . . Quid est ipeccatum
nisi legis divanae praevaricatio? ». n C. ammette altresì una legge
naturale, lex natu^ raliSj la quale ebbero anche i Gentili, ma questa non
basta a con- durre a salvamento. Ili Nofli è qui il
luogo di indicare il difetto originale d una tale dottrina che nel porre
fuori di noi la legge del nostro operare, si condanna alla,
contraddizione. Mi basterà ri- coirdare che essa si presenta assai più sviluppata
in AQUINO, il quale pone innanzi iJ concetto aristotelico della ragione
umana, la quale è la natura dell'uomo in quanto è uomo: ondfe poiché ogni
cosa è buona quando è con- forme alla sua propria natura, ogni cosa sarà
buona ri- spetto airuomo quando sarà conforme alla ragione. Ma
questa stessa ragione e natura umana ripete il suo potere regolativo
dalla natura divina : « quod autem ratio umana sit regula voluntatis
humanae, ex qua eius bonitas mensuretur, habet ex lege aeterrm quae est divina
». (Sum theol..). In conclusione la filosofia patristica e
scolastica, si accorda nel porre il principio normativo dell'operare
u- mano fuori aeiruomo stesso, cioè nella sapienza divina identica
essenzialmente col suo volere. Bei}e ^ n)ale. Abbiaino veduto come
Pier Lombardo affermi che tutto ciò che è, in quanto è, è bene : « Omne
quod est, in quantum est, est bonum » (Sent.). E poi- ché l3io é
d'autor© di tutto ciò che esiste Dio é rautore di ogni bene.
(Sent.) (Deus) omnium quae sunt auctor est, quae in quantum siuiif
bona sunt. Ma non viieme di conseguenza che Dio sia l'autore an- che
del male, giacché il Lombardo come tutti gli Scolastici, concepisce il male
come gualche cosa di propria- mente negativo, cioè come la privazione o
la corruzione del bene. (Sent.) « Malum enim est comiptio
yel privatio boni... Quid enim aliud quod malum dicitur nisi
privatio boni?». Anche Agostino nel libro De civitate Dei (Migne)
parla di causa deficiente e non efficiente del cattivo operare « Nemo
igilul* quaeral ellkientem cau- sani malae volunfalis: non enim efficiens
est, sed defl- ciens, quia nec illa effectio est sed defeclio ».
E di qui trae buon argomento il Maestro a confutare l'obbiezione di
eoJoro che insinuano che Dio essendo au- tore di tutto ciò che esiste,
deve essere altresì autore del peccato. (Sent.) « Quocirca
mali auctor non ^t (scil. deus) et ideo ipse summum bonum est, a quo
^n nullo delicere bonum est, et malum est deflcere. Non est ergo
causa deficiendi id' est tendendi ad jion esse, qui, ut ita dicam,
essendi causa est, quia omnTum quae suoit, auctor est, quae in quantum
sunt, bona sunt... Ecce aperte habes quod deficere a deo... malum est
». L.oiT7bardo nel cielo del 5oIe. Entrato €on
Beatrice nella sfera del sole Dante, ap- preoide diairanima di S. Tommaso
chi essa sia e chi siano i fulgor vivi e vincenti Sella sua
ghirlanda. Se si di tutti gli altri esser vuoi certo, Di
retro al mio parlar ten vien col viso * Girando su per lo beato
serto, QuelValtro fiammeggiare esce dal riso Di Graziano, che
Vano e l'altro foro Alutò si che piace in Paradiso. L'altro
ch'appresso adorna il nostro coro Quel Pietro fu che con la
poverella Offerse a Santa Chiesa suo tesoro {Par.);.
Qui Buti commenta : con la poverella offerse fece la sua offerta
della sua fa- cilità, come la po-verella della quale dice rEvangelio
di Santo loanni, che offerse poco, perchè «poco aveva, ma con buon
cuore e peirò Iddio accettò più la sua offerta che quella del ricco, che,
benché offerisse molto, non offerse con si buono animo. Commento di Buti
sopra la Divina Commedia per cura di C. Giannini Pisa I più dei
oammentatapi ricordano le prime parole del prologo del Liber Sententiarum
: « Cupientas aJiquid de penuria a-c temiitate nostra cum
paupercula in gazophilacium Domini miUere ardua scandere et opus supra
vires nostras praesumpsimus». Le parole di C. chiaramente fidludono
al noto episodio della poverella, riportato da San Luca e da S. Marco e nooi da Giovanni come erroneamente
riferisce il Buli. Dice San Luca: « Respiciens autem
vidit eos, qui mittebant munera sua in gazophilacium diviles. Vidit autem
et quamdam vi- duam pauperculam mittenlem aera minuta duo. Et
dixit: Vero dico vobis, quia vidua haec pauper, plus quam omnes
misit. Nam omnes hi ex abundantia siti miserunt in munera Dei : haec
autem et ex eo, quod deest illi, omoiem victum suum quem habuit misit. Così
ad un dispreeso racconta San Marco con leggere vananti : solo è da
notarsi che egli chiama la donna uidua una pauper e vidua hxiec pauper e
non mai col diminu- tivo tanto affettuoso di paupercula che per essera
stJ^lo scelto da Pier Lombardo fa pensare ch'egli si sia riferito
in special modo al passo di San Luca della Volgata. Ma ciò poco importa :
importa invece assai il notare come l'umiltà della vidua paupercula
avesse toccato «profondamente il cuore di C. il quale nel vergare quelle
parole doveva forse ricordarsi con teneirezzìa di un'altra vedova
poverella di un lontano paese di Lombardia: e come ALIGHIERI che nei veirsi che
dedicava ai persooiaggi della sua^ Commedia soleva «per lo più
introduirre Tele- mento soggettivo dei ricordi ed affetti personali non
senza ragione ricordò quel punto e quello solo dell'opera di C..
L'influenza che il ma^fister Petrus esercitò sul pensiero del Divino
Poeta non è stata ancora tutta quanta spiegata e compresa nella sua
giusta entità. 11 tkeologus . Dantes nullius dogmatis expers dà a
S<a«n Tommaso il posto d'onore che gli conviene, ma ad AQUINO commentatore
di C.. Se ALIGHERI ed AQUINO non si possono ancor dire contemporaiiiei
sono vissuti a poca distanza di tempo e sono entrambi commentatori
e perfezionatori dell'opera ancora rozza si ma feconda di Pier
Lombardo : l'uno raggiunge finalmente colla sua ma- unifica somima
quel connubium fidei ac rationis che il Magister aveva solo tentato,
Taltro ina canta il trionfo glorioso. Che Dante avesse letto il Rbro
delle Sentenze con mollo amore ci è provato non solo dai versi succitati,
ma da numeirosi passi del Paradiso ove come diremo tosto
rimitaziione risulta evidente : ed io sarei anche propenso a credere che
rAlighieri non si fosse Termato alla lettura di quel libro solo ed a
tutti noto di Pier Lombardo. Qui sono tratto ad accennare
fuggevolmente alla famosa questione del viaggio di Dante a Parigi :
questione ove troppo, eletti ingegni si cimentarono perchè io
presu- ma di recare qualche nuovo raggio di luce. Dante
zill'Uoiversiià di Parigi. Giovanni di Serravalle comme«ntatore racconta. Anagogico
dilexit Theojogiam sacram, in qua diu studuit tam in Oxoniis in regno
Angliae quam Parisius in regno Franciae : et fuit Bachalarius in
Universitate Pa- risiensi in qua legit Senlentias prò forma magisterii :
legit Biblia : respondit omnibus doctoribus, ut moris est, et fecit
omines actus qui fieri debent per doctorandum in Sacra Theologia. Egli
continua poi a dire che Dante non potè ottenere la laurea perchè gli
mancò il denaro per la licenza (deerat pecunia). Onde tornò in Firenze
per acquistarlo, optimus artista, perfectus Theologus e quivi fatto
«priore si diede ai pubblici uffici e più non si curò della Università di
Parigi. Il (racconto di Giovainni di Serravalle fu accolto dairO-
zanam e dairArriviabene con maggior serietà che mm me- (1) G.
TiBABOSOBi — storia della leti. Hai. Modena - Fratria F. de Serravalle
Translatio et comentum totius libri Dantis Aldighieri cum textu italico
Fratria Da Colle, nunc primum edito — Prati - (Jiachetti in
fol. ritasse. Secondo un tale» racconto Dante sarebbe andato a
Parigi nella sua giovinezza contro raffestazione del Villani, del Boccaccio, di
Benvenuto da Imola che fanno il viaggio degli ultimi anni. Ed il chiaro
professor Cipolla osserva che è appena credibile che Dante fossei in
cpiel tempo cosi spirovviiyto di credito da non potere ottenere la
somma che gli era necessaria : onde giudica il racconto di poca
probabilità. Ma TinverosimigHanza di lutto il rac- conto appare manifesta
quando un poco si pensi al modo come era organizzata la facoltà teologica
di Parigi ai tempi di Dante. Il buon vescovo di Fermo volendo
mostrarsi molto ap- profondito nella conoscenza dei gjradi accademici
com- mette degli errori grossolani : et fuit Bacchalarius in Universitate
Parisiensi in qua legit Senlentias prò forma Ma- gisterii: legit Biblia. Ma
si è veduto nella parte storica del lavoro che Tanno in cui il
baccelliere éiventsiV aSententiarius cioè commentava in pubblico il libro
delle Sentenze non pre- cedeva, ma seguiva la spiegazione della Sacra
scrittura: dopo quell'anno il baccelliere si chiamava baccalaureus
forrnatus che risponderebbe mutatis mutandis al nostro laureando. Perciò
Giovanni di Serravalle per essere esatto come vuol parerlo, avrebbe
dovuto invertire l'ordine delle parole. Ma non vogliaino essere molto
esigenti su ciò: c'è ben altro. Gli omnes aclus qui fieri
dehent per doctorandum in sacra Theologia (1) erano e forse Giovanni di
Serravalle lo ignorava, i sermoni (sermones) e le conferenze
(controversia^) che si dovevano tenere nei .tre o quattro anni che
precedevano la licenza ed infine le tre dispute pubbliche di cui la più
solenne veniva chiamata Sorbonica: ma la licenzia (licentia) che veniva
dopo tali prove accor- data e che il Serravallei chiama con termini vaghi
inceptio, conventus^ non esigeva alcuna pecunia di sorta. Il
SerravaUe e tutti i Commentatori si riferivano aU' accenno
Dantesco; si come il baccelUer s'arma e non paria, fin che il
maestro la question propone, per approvaria e non per terminarla.
Par. - i8, Infatti già il
concilio Lateranense del 1179 aveva proclamato due punti fondamentali :
la necessità e la gra- tuità della licenza ed un tale decreto trovò
po'sto nelle De- finire di Gregorio' IX. Solo per eccezione fu eoncess^o
sul finire del Xll a Pietro Comestore, cancellario di Nótre Dameij
per i suoi pregi personali, da Alessandro III, di pre- levare uoiia
piccola rimunerazione per la concessione della licenza. Ed
ancora il Regolamento di Roberto di Courcon insiste sulla concessione gratuita
ed ìncondiziomita della licenza : ed una tale disposizione veniva
conifermata nelle reigole aggiunte dal papa Gregorio II di cui conosciamo
il benefico intervento nei dissensi tra rUniversità ed di Re di Francia.
Nella famosa bolla Parens scientiarum viene prescritto formalmente « che il
cancel- liere non potrà esigere da coloro ai quali conferirà la li-
cenza né giunamento, né obbedienza, né denaro, né cau- zione, né promessa
». Ora è noto a tutti che lo statuto di Roberto di Courcon
confermato e completato dalla bolla di Gregorio IX, la quale fu pure
rinnovata senza modificazione da Urbano IV continua ad essere per tutto
il secolo XIII 'a legge fondamentale deirUniversità e pertanto della
facoltà teologica di Parigi. Per il che sembra a me che il
fondo storico del racconto di Giovanni di Serravalle venga a mancare
sempre più di consistenza. Carlo Cipolla nel suo dotto ìavaro
Sigieri nella Divi- na Commedia, dopo avere ossei-vato che il Sigieri
ricor- dato tra i beati del canto X deve ritenersi come Sigieri di
Brabante, e non va identificato col Sigieri de Conrtrai {Le Clero)
visisuto in epoca diversa, e neppure con quello di cui si iparla nel
sonetto del Fiore (Castets) avverso ad AQUINO, crede probabile, che ALIGHIERI
fn a Parigi negli ultimi anni di sua vita ed airincirca negli anni
1316-1318 e non vi ascoltò le lezioni di Sigieri di Brabante perché
questi era morto avanti il 1300 ( Feret tornando su questa questione nel
volu- me II deiropera cit. (cap. Les Sorbonnistes) crede errat-ì
così, l'opinione del Le Clerc che del Castets, combatte ^e Giornale
storico den« Lett. It. Voi. Vili — Torino LoescUer] asserzioni di Gaston
Paris, ed airiimesso che il Sigieri di Dante è il Sigieri di Brabante che
quitla cette vie en repu- tation d'une orthodoxie parfaite, non si
discosta mollo dalle oonclusdoni del professor Cipolla che mostra di
mion conoscere. Questo sembrerebbe coaidurci assai fuori del nostro
ar- gomento se una buòna osservazione del prof. Cipolla a questo
proposito della partecipazione dell'Alighieri alle lezioni dd Sigieri non
mi facesse tosto ritornarvi. Egli afferma che « per ciò che
riguarda Sigieri, altro è ammettere nel luogo Dantesco vm ricordo
personale, ed altro è credere che questo ricordo personale sia tale
dav- vero da comprenderà poS la partecipazione dell'Alighieri alla
scuola di quel filosofo. Alle scuole di Parigi i libri del Sigieri eratno
rimasti auasi come lesti agli scolari, tanta Sama le sue lezioni vi
avevano lasciato ». Cosi per ciò che riguarda Pier Lombardo, io
ag- giungerò che oer spiegare la profonda conoscenza che Dante ebbe
del Libro delle sentenze, non è necessario di credere col Serravalle che
Damle abbia commentato le sen- tenze nella scuola di Teologia perchè lo
studio che in quei tempi se ne faceva in Parigi, la fama che vi godeva e
che già aveva provocato i lamenti di Ruggero Bacone, certo potevano
non poco contribuire a farglielo conoscer© più in là del frontìsipizio e
del prologo. Per fama egli conobbe a Parigi Sigieri, per fama
vi conosce C. ed entrambi egli ricordò con particolar cura nei suoi versi
ove palpita un affetto personale. Ma se poca o nessuna influenza ha la
filosofìa di Sigieri nell’opera d’ALIGHIERI; molta invece ne ha in quella
di C.. Un esempio: Speme dissHo, è un attender
certo Della gloria futura, il qual produce Grazia divina e
precedente merlo. {Par.) P. Fkrkt La f acuite de Tkeol, de
Paris – Ricarcl] Pietro di Dante, TOttimo, la Chiosa Cassanese, ricor-
dano la definizione di Pier Lombardo: «est spes certa exjeiotatio futurae
beatitudinis veniens ex Dei gralia et mentis praecedentibus ». (Lib.
Seni. IH. dist. 26). Iacopo della Lama, rÀnonimo rioooimno assai
meno opportunamente a San Toit^màso: spes est motus appe- Wiiae
virtutis consequens apprehensione boni fulnri ad- nui possibilis adiptsci
». Ho citato, per ppoporre un esempio, uno dei tanti luoghi
ove il Lombardo viene dal poeta preferito all'Aqui- nale, o meglio dire
ove cosi San Tommaso come Dante attingono -alla medesima fonte: Pier
Lombardo. Qui si ha una traduzione letterale delle parole del Maestro
che appaiono anche in San Tommaso sotto una veste più fi- losofica.
Ma non è questo il solo punto ove un tale raf- fronto è possibile.
Fu uno dei più assidui, il Senatore Carlo Neg'-;ni, a far notare la
^ainde importanza che ebbe il libro del Maestro nel pensiero di Dante.
JNella prefa/jine al volume. .V. della Bibbia volaare ri884),
accennando a Pier Lombardo della cui opera si giova Tespositore dei salmi
di quella Bibbia, promise di occuparsene : « In un altro mio scritto dove
avrò Taiuto di un teologo profondo, e mio buon amico, farò il
confronto tra le «proposizioni teologiche della Divina Commedia e
quelle dei libri delle Sentenze: ed il lettore vedrà che le prime non
sono altro che Tespressione poetica delle secon- de, fedelissima e latta
con invidiabile precisione ». Disgraziatamente Negroni occupato in altri
lavori, non potè adempiere .alla sua promessa, ma dando esempio dì
larghezza d'animo, consigliò ed aiutò l’amico suo Carbone, (Carbonara), poi
prefetto Apostolico deirÉritrea, nell'opera a cui egH non poteva
attendere, e ne promosse la pubblicazione. Carbonara pubblica infatti
Slcuni Studi Danteschi e Tortona
Tip. A. Rossi — Stttdi Danteschi; Dante e S. Francesco; ALIGHIERI e FIDANZA
(si veda) Nella Biblioteca Negroni si trovano nel carteggio privato
le lettere che il Carbone indirizzava a Carlo Negroni piene d'erudizione
e di affetto per l'illustre amico. Trov.ansi pure tra i copiosi ms. due
fa- scicoli; n. 26: Pier L. nel Paradiso; n. 27: Appunti Danteschi.
Essi contengono citazioni, note erudite che il Negroni veniva man
mano scrivendo. La malattia e la morte tolsero il modesto studioso e
gene- roso filantropo aUa tranquilla ed utile sua operositét
letterarii^. nel volume I. dedicato al Neuroni, prese in
esame» il I\' Libro delle Sentenze collo studio: Dante e C. Questo
appunto- che è il migliore ed il più originale, entrò poco dopo inella
collezione di opuscoli inediti e rari diretta da Passerini per cura di Murari.
In esso il Carbone che si limita «all'esame delle distinzioni delle
Sentenze, conclude che il seme che è nel libro delle Sentenze di Pier
Lombardo mostra i suoi fiori ed i suoi frutti ini Dante.
Nella tornata del 19 Aprile 1891 airAccademia Ponta- niana, il
socio residente Alberto Agresti le^e una memo- ria dal titolo: Eva in
Dante ed in Pier Lombardo (1) ed anch'egli ricordò a proposito di questi
studi, Tamico Ne- groni e lo studio di frate Michele da Carbonara.
Ponendo a raffronto i passi danteschi ove vien citala Eva (tacendo
di tre che non danno alcun ^udizio della sua colpa : (Purg.) uno comune
con Adamo (Purg.); gli altri (Purg.; Par.), ove si dà un giudizio
sfavorevole di Eva ed il passo del DeViilgari Eloquio ove ALIGHERI chiama
Eva praesumptuosissimam), cerca da quali letture Dante ricavò il severo
giudizio. Combatte To- •pinione di V. Imbriani, (Studi danteschi.
Firenze, Sansoni) che coIFesempio del Boccaccio vuol dimostrare 'i&
scarsa erudizione teologica di Dante. Nella testimonianza di San Tommaso
{Summa) Isidoro {Sentent.), Sant'Anselmo {De pec-orig.), Ugo da S.
Vittore, FIDANZA non trova la ragione delli eccessiva severità
deirAlighieri, bemsì in Pier Lombardo (Lib. II. dist. 22) che così si
esprime: « Adamo non istimò vero ciò che il diavolo aveva
sug- gerito; stimò di peccare in maniera da esserne perdonato.
Forse come vide che la donna, gustato il frutto, non era peranco morta,
prevaricò e volle ainch^'egli fare esperimen- to del legno proibito. Più
però Ta donna, perchè volle usurpare l'eguaglianza della divinità e levata
in superbia nimia vraesumptione^ credette così doversi avverare.
Adamo non volle contristare la donna, ma certo non vinto da carnale
concupiscenza, non sentila peranco in Napoli, Tip. della R.
Università, lui, ma per una certa amichevole heoievotenza per la
quale il più delle volte avviene che si offende Dio per non of-
fender l'amico. In un certo modo Adamo fu anch'egli de- ceptus ! Nella
donn<a /fu majoris tumoris praesumptio : ella peccò in sé, nel
prossimo , in Dio : l'uomo solo ui sé ed in Dio ». E
l'Agresti finisce insomma col concludere che « stu- diare la D. Commedia
al lume dei libri delle Sentenze è tutto un lavoro nuovo che manca alla
letteratura dante- ca ». A me non resta che augurarmi che un tale
1' si compia e che una feconda curiosità subentri alla sterile
dilRdenza nelFaprire il libro di P. L. che Dante non certo per cura della
rima chiamava il suo tesoro. I ìinyiìì
dell'erudizione. Ristrettezza di tempo mi ha impedito di dare,
com'era mio desiderio, maggior svolgimento a questi insufficienti
cenni sull'influenza esercitata dal maestro delle Sentenze sull'opera di
Dante e non sulla Divina Commedia soltan- to. Dell'utilità di una
maggiore e più profonda conoscenza di tali rapporti, è prov:a quanto si è
venuto in questi anni scrivendo dagli studiosii di Dante coll'intento in
verità non sempre raggiunto di recar "maggiore luce
airinterpreta- zione' del poema dantesco. Ancora in un recente
fascicolo del Bollettino della Società Dantesca Italiana. Parodi m
una dotta recensione consacrata ad un apprezzato studio del prof. Surra
su La conoscenza del futuro e del pre- sente nei dannati danteschi
(Novara, Tip. Guaglio), si vale del confronto colla dottrina del Maestro
delle Sen- tenze per meglio chiarire i dubbi che le parole di
Farinata non sciolgono sul modo di conosceniza dei dannati. Contro
la tesi del Surra, che fortificandosi del concetto delFìrra- zionale
nell'arte, ampiaonente illustrato da Fracoaroli, vuol chiudere il passo
^ai diritti 3eireru3ìzioaie, Parodi dimostra, citando una distinzione del
IV delle Sentenze. Ve animabus damnatorum si qua habent notitican eorum
quae hic fiunt, come l’esposizione di Farinata cresce d'importanza venendo a
combaciare colla dotlrin<a professata dal Maestro. Ed è certo che se
la contraddizione non può essere evitata dal pensiero umano, specie
cpiando s'aderge sulle ali della poesia, tanto in Dante come in C.,
scola5?tóci entrambi, v'è Tidentioa «preoccupazioaiei di sfug^rle colla
cura più scrupolosa. Non si può riconoscere tuttavia all'erudizione
il dirit- to di andar troppo oltre, specie nelle sue conclusioni,
perchè Terudizioflie è alla poesia come la ragione è alla fede, che il
sapere riconosce potene illumi- nare senza spiegarla interamente.
Se anche col raffronto più minuto dei passi danteschi ooiropera di
C. (non limitato alle Semtenze) noi potremo trovare nuove e curiose
rispondenze che ci dimostreranno le fonti di sapere e d'inspirazione del Poeta
divino, dovremo limitarci a riconoscere nulla più che la materia
preziosa, ma informe trasportata e nobilitata dal- Fopera (in che è il
fatto nuovo) dello statuario. E\ per limitarmi ad un solo esempio,
notevole il modo onde mei Sermoni vengono disposti gli argomenti
morali che il Lombardo distilla da un qualunque versetto biblico:
sono quasi sempre tre i sensi che se ne ricadano ed il numero 3 entra con una
particolare predilezione ìiell armo- nica e spesso sin troppo misurata
distribuzione delle parti nei suoi discorsi. Queste ed altre minuzie di
logica ar- Tres igitur tortae pani8 tres sunt modi dìvinam
paginam in- telligendi Triplex igitar pani8 eat intellectus:
tropologicus, scilicet moralis vel historicus; mysticus, idest
allegoricus et anagogeticum Moralis mores componit, exhauriens malos et
confovens bonos; allegorìcufl mentis acuit oculos ut mysterioram abdita
penetrare valeant; anagogeticus mentes super se effundit ut in voce
exulta- tionis et confessionis, constituto die, e condensis usque ad
domum Dei rapiatur; nam sicut allegoria alitar intellectus, ita anagoge
su- perior sermo vel sursum tendens interpretatur. Moralis, idest
tropo- logicus, est dulcior, historicus facilior, mysticus auctior.
Historicus insipientibus, moralis proficientibus, mxsticus perfìcientibus
congruit.- Sermone: Convertimini fili revertentes . . fine inedita
riportata da Haureau op. cit* chitettura oasi caire a Pier Loonbardo, come
si avverte nello slesso Prologo delle Sentenze', do ve vaino esercitare
il loro influsso nel poeta della Vita Nuova e del Paradiso.
Ma non dal solo Pier Lombardo, bensì da tutta 'a scienza teologica,
Dante raccolse mei grande specchio ustorio della sua mente, la luce che
brilla nel suo divino Poema. Né possiamo comprendere come uno
studiotso deìlla coltura del prof. Amaduocd, possa restringere nel-
rarido opuscolo XXXII di San Pier Damiano, quasi l'unica tonte del poema
dantesco, lo schema dottrinale a cui Damte avrebbe informato, con
perfetta fusione della lettera col- l'allegoria^ la Commedia, e
annunciare seriamente che di- stinguendo i 100 canti nelle 42 marcie e
fermate {num- sioni} deirallegorico viaggio degli Ebrei contemplato
dalla modesta fantasia di San Pier Damiano, verrà sostituito
nell'esame del poema ai fondamenti ipotetici, il fondamento scientifico,
gli enigmi di sei secoli, troveranno fàcile spie- gazione e sarà aperta
la via ad una nuova valutazione artistica (1). Ma tale via
non Tha aperta Dante stesso coU'opera sua? (1) Z/'
opuscolo XXXII di S, Pier Damiano fonte diretta della Divina Commedia? in
Grùymaìe Dantesco dir, da G. L. Passerini voi. XXI - Firenze, Dischi. cfr.
Parodi La fonte diretta della divina
Commedia — in Marzocco, Firenze. A questa trattazione epero far seguire
prosslntamefite un canltolo, su C. E LA SCUOLA. Ohe per l'economia
dei presente iavoro non potè essere inoluoo. Le origini oscure. La nascita
a Lumellogno. L'ambiente nativo. Dipendenza di Lmnel- il^gno dal Capitolo
Novarese — Stato delle scuole novaresi. Pier Lombardo fu allo studio
Bolog^nese? Gap. il — Nell'ombra del cammino . . pag. 25 Alla
scuola di Leutaldo novarese a Reims. « ParisiUiSi » — La « universitas
scholarium. San Vittore. Santa Genoveffa. Nella luce della fam^i. La scuoia di
Nòtre Dame. L'episcopato. La morte. La tomba di S. Marcello. Le onoranze.
L'opera e la fortuna di Pier Lombardo. Le Sentenze. I Sentenziarii. I
detrattori. Il « tesoro ». Opere edite ed inedite. I Seamoni. LA DOTTRINA
FILOSOFICA. Posizione di C. nella filosofia. Metodo. Religione e
sciens&a. Problema metafisico e conoscitivo pag. 8Ì
Teoria degli universali. Teoria ctella oonoscenza. Problema ontologico e
cosmologico. Sostanza ed accidente. Natura e persona. Materia e forma. Causalità.
Spazio e tempo. CosmoJKJgia — Posizione dell'uomo neirunàverso.
Cap. Problema psicologico. Potenzie dell' aiiim.. Natura dell'ajiima. Origine dell'anima.
Relazione tra l'anima e il corpo. Problema morale. Libero arbitrio. Felicità.
Moralità delle azioni umane — La legge morale — Bene e mailie.
Gap. vi. — Lm dottrina scolastica in C. e Dante Pier Lo!ml>ardo nel
cielo del Sole. Dante adl'Università di Parigi. Influenza di Pier
Loonbardo sull'opera di Dante. Aggiunta necesaaria. I limiti
dell'erudizione. Ritratto di Pier Lombardo dall'incisione del Thevet
« Les vrais portraàts ecc. » Paris. Portico della Canonica di Novara da
un'incisione delle « Monografìe Novanesi » MigUo Vene de la VUle de Paris
du coté de Vlsle N. Dame
(antica incisione). A. N ótre Dame de Paris, (antdca
incisione). Con Agostino si opera, per la prima volta e in maniera
esplicita, una completa saldatura fra la teoria del SEGNO e quella del
linguaggio. Per trovare una altrettanto rigorosa presa di posizione teorica
bisogna aspettare il Corso di linguistica generale di Saussure, scritto
quindici secoli dopo. La grande importanza che la tematica semiolinguistica ha
in Agostino deriva in gran parte dal suo assorbimento della lezione stoica,
come del resto testimonia il trattato DE DIALECTICA De dialectica. In esso sono
riassunti molti dei principali temi stoici in materia semiotica, tra cui il
princi pio che la conoscenza è, in linea generale, conoscenza attra verso
segni (Simone). Ma vari elementi differenziano l'impostazione agostinia na da
quella stoica. In primo luogo, infatti, gli stoici, racco gliendo e
formalizzando una lunga tradizione di origine so prattutto medica e mantica,
consideravano propriamente segni (smeia) solo i segni non verbali, come il fumo
che svela il fuoco e la cicatrice che rinvia a una precedente feri ta.
Agostino, invece, per primo nell'antichità, include nella categoria dei signa
non solo i segni non verbali come i gesti, le insegne militari, le fanfare, la
pantomima ecc., ma anche le espressioni del linguaggio parlato (''Noi diciamo
in gene rale segno tutto ciò che significa qualche cosa, e fra questi abbiamo
anche le parole", De Magistro, 4.9). In secondo luogo, gli stoici
avevano individuato nell'e nunciato il punto di congiunzione tra il
significante (semaf non) e il significato (semain6menon), elemento che comun
que non coincideva con il segno (semefon). Agostino, inve ce, individua nella
singola espressione linguistica, cioè nel verbum (''parola"), l'elemento
in cui significante e signifi cato si fondono, e considera questa fusione un
segno di qualcos'altro ("Quindi, dopo aver sufficientemente assoda to che
le parole [verba] non sono nient'altro che segni [si gna] e che non può essere
segno ciò che non significhi [si gniflcet] qualcosa, tu hai proposto un verso
di cui io mi sforzassi di mostrare che cosa significhino le singole paro
le", De Mag., 7.19). In terzo luogo, gli stoici avevano elaborato una
teoria del linguaggio che aveva le due caratteristiche di essere formale (il
lekt6n non coincideva con alcuna sostanza) e centrata sulla significazione.
Agostino, invece, elabora una teoria del segno linguistico che ha un carattere
psicologistico (i si gnificati si trovano nell'animo) e comunicazionale
(passano nell'animo dell'ascoltatore) (Todorov 1977: 35; Markus 1957: 72). 10.1
n triangolo semiotico e la stratificazione ter minologie& È del resto con
l'analisi della nozione stessa di parola (verbum simplex) che si apre il De
dia/ectica ed è con questa nozione che si inaugura una serie interessante di
distinzioni terminologiche. Al capitolo V, Agostino elabora una triplice
distinzione che possiamo mettere in corrispondenza con i moderni con cetti di
significato, significante e referente. Infatti individua in primo luogo la vox
articu/ata (o il sonus) della parola, cioè quello che è percepito dali'orecchio
quando la parola viene pronunciata. In secondo luogo individua il dicibi/e1
(corrispondente, anche dal punto di vista della trasposizio ne linguistica, al
/ekt6n stoico), definito come ciò che viene avvertito dall'animo e che è in
esso contenuto. In terzo luogo, infine, distingue la res, che viene definita
come un og getto qualsiasi, percepibile con i sensi, o con l'intelletto, op
pure che sfugge alla percezione (De dialect.). È così possibile ricostruire il
triangolo semiotico nei se guenti termini: dicibile vox articulata (o
sonus) res Ma Agostino guarda ai segni anche dal punto di vista del loro potere
di designazione, oltre che da quello della signifi cazione. Questo lo spinge a
elaborare un'ulteriore suddivi sione terminologica in corrispondenza dei due
aspetti che può assumere il referente di una parola: (i) può infatti avve nire
che la parola rimandi a se stessa come proprio referente (fatto che si verifica
nel caso della citazione, ovvero della designazione metalinguistica), e allora
prende il nome di verbum;2 (ii) oppure può avvenire che la parola, intesa co
me combinazione del significante e del significato, abbia come referente una
cosa diversa da se stessa (come avviene con l'uso denotativo del linguaggio),
nel qual caso prende il nome di dictio.3 È precisamente la nozione di dictio
che, come ha osserva to Baratin ( 198 1 ), costituisce l'elemento di
congiunzione tra la teoria del linguaggio e quella del segno. E ciò in virtù di
uno sfasamento semantico che la nozione stoica di léxis (si gnificante
articolato, ma senza essere necessariamente por tatore di significato) ha
subìto nel corso degli studi lingui stici antichi. Dictio è traduzione
di léxis; ma non ha lo stesso significa to che le attribuivano gli stoici,
bensì quello che le davano i grammatici alessandrini, in particolare Dionisio
Trace, che definiva la léxis come "la più piccola parte dell'enunciato
costruito" (Grammatici graeci, l , l , 22, 4), a metà strada tra le
lettere e le sillabe, da una parte, e l'enunciato, dall'al tra. Questa sua
particolare posizione fa sì che la léxis venga considerata come portatrice di
un significato (in contrappo sizione alle lettere e alle sillabe che non lo
posseggono), ma incompleto (in opposizione all'enunciato che porta un sen so
completo). Lo spostamento di fuoco dalla centralità stoica dell'e nunciato
alla centralità alessandrina della singola parola, fa sì che quest'ultima
assuma al(\une delle funzioni prima spet tanti solo all'enunciato. In
particolare, quella di essere un segno.4 Agostino definisce decisamente la
parola come un segno al cap. V del De dialectica: "La parola è, per
ciascuna cosa, un segno che, enunciato dal locutore, può essere compreso
dall'ascoltatore". E, del resto, il segno viene definito come "ciò
che presentandosi in quanto tale alla percezione sensi bile, presenta anche
qualche cosa alla percezione intellet tuale (animus)" (ibidem). 10.2
Relazione di equivalenza e relazione di im plicazione Ponendo l'accento sulla
parola, anziché sull'enunciato, Agostino ritrova l'opposizione platonica tra
parole e cose. Incontro non casuale, in quanto Platone è l'unico, prima di
Agostino, ad avere una concezione semiotica del linguag gio; per Platone,
infatti, il nome era d/Oma, svelamento di qualcosa che non è direttamente
percepibile, ovvero dell'es senza della cosa. Ma mentre nel Crati/o platonico
si discute se il rapporto tra nome e cosa sia un rapporto iconico (pe raltro
con la soluzione che conosciamo, cfr. cap. 4), in Agostino tale rapporto -
configura subito come una rela zione di significazione: il nomt
"significa" una cosa (nozione equivalente a quella di "essere
segno di" una cosa). Nel momento in cui Agostino propone la sua concezione
della parola come segno, si producono alcune modificazio ni teoriche,
conseguenti allo spostamento di prospettiva. In effetti nelle teorie
linguistiche precedenti a quella di Agosti no il rapporto tra le espressioni
linguistiche e i loro conte nuti era stato concepito come una relazione di
equivalenza. La ragione, come noto, era di carattere epistemologico e ri
guardava la possibilità di lavorare direttamente sul linguag gio, in
sostituzione degli oggetti della realtà, dato che il lin guaggio veniva
concepito come un sistema di rappresenta zione del reale (per quanto mediato
dall'anima). Al contrario, il rapporto tra un segno e ciò a cui esso rin via
era stato concepito come una relazione di implicazione, per cui il primo
termine permetteva, per lo stesso fatto di esistere, di arrivare alla
conoscenza del secondo. Eco (1984: 33) ha suggerito che, nell'enunciato stoico,
i rapporti tra la relazione segnica e quella linguistica possono essere
illustra ti da uno schema in cui il livello implicazionale si regge su quello
equazionale: onIE=>c m_E:! c dove E indica "espressione", C
"contenuto", ::J "implica" e == "è equivalente
a". In Agostino l'unificazione tra le due prospettive avviene a livello
della singola parola e senza chiamare in causa rapporti di equivalenza. Caso
mai la dic tio, che è rappresentabile con il livello i, è costituita dali'u
nione, o prodotto logico, di una vox (significante) e di un dicibile
(significato), unità che diviene segno di qualcos'al tro (livello ii).
Conseguenze dell'unificazione delle prospet tive La prima conseguenza
dell'unificazione agostiniana, co me sottolinea Eco, è che la lingua comincia
a tro varsi a disagio all'interno del quadro implicativo. Essa in fatti
costituisce un sistema troppo forte e troppo strutturato per sottomettersi a
una teoria dei segni nata per descrivere rapporti così elusivi e generici, come
quelli che si ritrovano, a esempio, nelle classificazioni della retorica greca
e roma na. Infatti l'implicazione semiotica era aperta alla possibili tà di
percorrere l'intero continuum dei rapporti di necessità e di debolezza. Inoltre
la lingua, come del resto Agostino mette in risalto nel De Magistro, possiede
un carattere peculiare rispetto agli altri sistemi di segni, corrispondente al
fatto di essere un "sistema modellizzante primario",5 cioè tale che
qualun que altro sistema semiotico può essere tradotto in esso. La forza e
l'importanza della lingua fanno sì che i rapporti con gli altri sistemi di
segni si rovescino, e che essa, da specie, divenga genere: a poco a poco, il
modello del segno lingui stico finirà per essere senz'altro il modello
semiotico per ec cellenza. Ma quando il processo evolutivo arriva a Saussure,
che ne rappresenta il punto culminante, si è ormai venuto a per dere il
carattere implicativo, e il segno linguistico si è cri stallizzato nella forma
degradata del modello dizionariale, in cui il rapporto tra la parola e il suo
contenuto è concepito come situazione sinonimica o definizione essenziale. La
seconda importante conseguenza dell'innovazione agostiniana riguarda il
problema della fondazione della dia lettica e della scienza (Baratin).
Fintanto ché il rapporto tra linguaggio e oggetto del reale era conce pito
nei termini dell'equivalenza, il primo non appariva di rettamente responsabile
della conoscenza del secondo. Ma nel momento in cui si attribuisce un carattere
di segno alle espressioni linguistiche, la conoscenza delle parole sembra
implicare, di per se stessa, e a priori, la conoscenza delle co se di cui esse
sono segno. Tutta la grande tradizione semiotica, del resto, convergeva nel
considerare il segno come il punto di accesso, senza ulteriori mediazioni, alla
conoscen za dell'oggetto di riferimento. Il problema che si pone ad Agostino è
allora quello di prendere una posizione rispetto alla questione se il linguag
gio fornisca o meno , di per se stesso , informazioni sulle co se che
significa. Agostino affronta la questione del carattere informativo dei segni
linguistici nel De Magistro (389 d.C.). L'opera, in forma di dialogo tra
Agostino e il figlio Adeodato, inizia stabilendo due fondamentali funzioni del
linguaggio: (i) in· segnare (docere) e (ii) richiamare alla memoria (commemo
rare), sia propria sia degli altri. Si tratta di funzioni con temporaneamente
informative e comunicative, in quanto coinvolgono in maniera centrale la
presenza del destinatario nel momento in cui forniscono informazione. La prima
parte del dialogo è tesa a dimostrare che queste funzioni, principalmente
quella informativa, sono svolte dal linguaggio in quanto sistema di segni. Sono
le parole, infatti, che, in qualità di segni, danno informazione sulle cose,
senza che nient'altro possa assolvere alla medesima funzione. Nella seconda parte
del dialogo, però, Agostino ritorna sull'argomento e cambia completamente la
sua prospettiva. Fondandosi ancora una volta sul fatto che la lingua è un in
sieme di segni, egli mostra che si possono presentare due ca si: (i) il primo
caso è quello in cui il locutore produce un se gno che si riferisce a una cosa
sconosciuta al destinatario; in tale situazione il segno non è in grado, di per
se stesso, di fornire informazione, come dimostra l'esempio, riportato da
Agostino, dell'espressione saraballae, la quale, se non precedentemente nota,
non permetterà di comprendere il ri ferimento ai "copricapr', che essa
effettua; (ii) il secondo caso è quello in cui il locutore produce un segno che
si rife risce a qualcosa che è già noto al destinatario; e nemmeno in
questa evenienza si potrà parlare di un vero e proprio processo di conoscenza
(De Mag.). Alla fine Agostino conclude invertendo il rapporto cono scitivo tra
segno e oggetto, e stabilendo che è necessario co noscere preliminarmente
l'oggetto di riferimento per poter dire che una parola ne è un segno. È la
conoscenza della co sa che informa sulla presenza del segno e non viceversa.
La soluzione ha una ascendenza chiaramente platonica, e a es sa si collega
anche la presa di posizione, di marca ugual mente platonica, che la conoscenza
delle cose deve essere pregiata maggiormente della conoscenza dei segni, perché
"qualunque cosa sta per un'altra, è necessario che valga meno di quella
per cui essa sta" (De Mag., 9.25). Ma se per le cose sensibili
(sensibilia) sono gli oggetti esterni che ci permettono di arrivare alla
conoscenza, non altrettanto avviene nel caso delle cose puramente intelligibi
li (intelligibilia). Per queste ultime Agostino individua una soluzione
"teologica": la loro conoscenza deriva dalla rive lazione che viene
fatta dal Maestro interiore, il quale è ga ranzia tanto deli'informazione
quanto della verità (De Mag.). Ma anche con questa soluzione
"teologica" del problema linguistico, al linguaggio è lasciato uno
spazio, che in parte coincide con la funzione del segno rammemorativo, ma in
parte la supera: quando conosciamo già l'oggetto di riferi mento, le parole ci
ricordano l'informazione; quando non lo conosciamo , ci spingono a cercare (De
Mag.) . In Agostino la soluzione teologica non è una scappatoia per uscire da
un'impasse teorica. Al contrario, essa mette capo a nuove problematiche. È nel
De Trinitate (415) che viene affrontato il tema dell'espressione del verbo
interiore, una volta che sia stato concepito nella profondità dell'ani mo. In
effetti, per poter comunicare con gli altri, gli uomini si servono della parola
o di un segno sensibile, per poter 234 10. AGOSTINO provocare nell'anima
dell'interlocutore un verbo simile a quello che si trova nel loro animo mentre
parlano (De Trin., IX, VII, 12). D'altra parte Agostino sottolinea la natura
prelinguistica del verbo interiore, il quale non appartiene a nessuna delle
lingue naturali, ma deve essere codificato in un segno quan do ha bisogno di
essere espresso e portato alla comprensio ne dei destinatari. Il verbo
interiore ha, del resto, una duplice origine: da una parte esso costituisce una
conoscenza immanente, la cui sorgente è Dio stesso; dall'altra esso è
determinato dalle im pronte lasciate neli'anima dagli oggetti di conoscenza.
Ma anche in questo secondo caso esso è riconducibile a Dio, in quanto il mondo
è il linguaggio attraverso il quale Dio si esprime. Si trovano qui gli embrioni
del simbolismo univer sale, che tanta parte avrà nella cultura del Medioevo.
Quello che comunque emerge con sempre maggiore chia rezza è il carattere
comunicativo della semiologia agostinia na, che è individuabile anche nello
schema riassuntivo pro posto da Todorov (1977: 42): oggetti di conoscenza
potenza !Immanente verbo verbo verbo divina interiore - esteriore - esteriore
pensato proferito sa pere. È comunque innegabile che se la semiologia
agostiniana presenta un aspet to "teologico", connesso al problema
del verbo divino, tut tavia possiede anche un ben individuato e autonomo aspet
to laico, che prende in considerazione i caratteri che il segno ha di per se
stesso. Fanno parte di quest'ultimo aspetto le varie classificazioni dei segni,
alle quali Agostino si dedica soprattutto nel trattato De doctrina Christiana
secondo il modo di trasmissione: vista/udito secondo l'origine e l'uso: segni
naturali/segni intenzio nali secondo lo statuto sociale: segni naturali/segni
conven zionali secondo la natura del rapporto simbolico: proprio/tra slato
secondo la natura del designato: segno/cosa con aggiunte più tarde), ma che
ritorna anche in varie altre opere . Todorov (1977: 43 e sgg.) individua e
analizza cinque tipi di classificazione a cui Agostino sottopone la nozione di
se gno : Todorov lamenta il fatto che Agostino giustappone quel lo che in
realtà avrebbe potuto articolare, in quanto gene ralmente queste opposizioni
sono tra di loro irrelate. Questo non è però del tutto vero, perché
(soprattutto nel De Magistro) c'è un tentativo di dare una classificazione
combinata di alcuni aspetti del segno. A questo proposito è possibile
ricostruire tale classifica zione ordinandola secondo uno schema arboriforme
(Bernardelli), secondo il modello dell'albero di Porfirio (Eco); cfr. p. 236.
La classificazione di Agostino non è totalmente a inclu sione, come tende a
essere quella porfiriana; e si può osser vare che se venissero sviluppati i
rami collaterali, si vedreb bero comparire, una seconda volta, alcune
categorie elenca te sotto il ramo principale. Tuttavia è Agostino stesso a
metterei sulla strada di una classificazione inclusiva da ge nere a specie
quando definisce la relazione tra nome e paro la come "la stessa che c'è
tra cavallo e animale" e includen do la categoria delle parole in quella
più ampia dei segni (DeMag., 4.9). genen· e specie AES SEGNO PAROLA NOME
------ segno udibile di cose (funzione denotativa) res sensibili (Romulus,
Roma, fluvius) differenze significanti qualcosa verbale (voce articolata)
differenze (significabilis, non significanti nome in
senso particolare non verbale (gesti. insegne, lettere, tromba militare ecc.)
altra parte del discorso (si, ve/, ex, nsmque, neve, ergo, quonism ecc.) segno
udibile di segni udibili (funzione metalinguistìca) res intelligibili (
virtus) SIGNIFICANTE delle .. AES" La prima relazione
interessante è quella tra res e signa. Per quanto il mondo sostanziahnente
venga diviso in cose e segni, tuttavia, Agostino non concepisce tale
distinzione co me ontologica, bensì come funzionale e relativa. Infatti anche
i segni sono delle res e l'uomo è libero di as sumere come segno una res che
fino a quel momento era sprovvista di quella dignità. Anzi, la stessa nozione
di res viene definita in termini rigorosamente semiologici (Simone 1969: 105):
"In senso proprio ho chiamato cose (res) quegli oggetti che non sono
impiegati per essere segni di qualche cosa: per esempio i legno, la pietra, il
bestiame" (De doctr. Christ. , I, Il, 2). Ma, immediatamente dopo,
cosciente del la pervasività dei processi di semiosi, aggiunge: "Ma non
quel legno che, leggiamo, Mosè gettò nelle acque amare per dissipare la loro
amarezza (Esodo, XV, 25); né quella pietra sulla quale Giacobbe riposò la sua
testa, né quella pecora che Abramo immolò al posto di suo figlio. L'articolazione
che esiste tra segni e cose è analoga a quella dei due processi essenziali:
usare (ut1) e godere (jrul) (De doctr. Christ.). Le cose di cui si usa sono
tran sitive, come i segni, che sono strumenti per giungere a qual cos'altro;
le cose di cui si gode sono intransitive, cioè sono prese in considerazione per
se stesse. Nel De Magistro Agostino propone anche un nome per le cose che non
sono usate come segni, ma sono signifi cate attraverso segni: significabilia.
Niente toglie che in un secondo momento anche quest'ultime possano essere assun
te con funzione significante. Dopo aver così articolato i rapporti tra segni e
cose, Ago stino propone questa definizione di segno nel De doctrina
Christiana: "Il segno è una cosa (res) che, al di là dell'impressione che
produce sui sensi, di per se stessa, fa venire in mente (in cogitationem)
qualcos'altro". Nel nostro albero porfiriano abbiamo deciso di
ricostrui re la principale suddivisione agostiniana dei segni secondo la
dicotomia verbale/non verbale, anche se altre opzioni, ugualmente esplicite nei
testi di Agostino, erano disponibili. Questa decisione è autorizzata da un
passo del De doctrina Christiana in cui, a conclusione di un'analisi dei vari
tipi di segni, Agostino sostiene: "Infatti di tutti quei se gni, di cui
ho brevemente abbozzato la tipologia, ho potuto parlare attraverso le parole;
ma le parole in nessun modo avrei potuto enunciarle attraverso quei
segni". Viene esplicitamente fatto riferimento al carattere, tipico del
linguaggio verbale, di essere un sistema modellizzante primario, e tale
carattere viene assunto come criterio della divisione fondamentale dei segni.
I0.6.3 Segni classificati in base al canale di perce zione Una classificazione
incrociata rispetto alla precedente è quella effettuata in base al canale di
percezione. Agostino infatti sostiene che "tra i segni di cui gli uomini
si servono per comunicare tra di loro ciò che provano, certi dipendono dalla
vista, la maggior parte dali'udito, pochissimi dagli al tri sensi" (De
doctr. Christ., Il, III, 4). Tra i segni che vengono percepiti con l'udito ci
sono quel li, fondamentalmente estetici, emessi dagli strumenti musi cali,
come il flauto e la cetra, o anche quelli essenzialmente comunicativi emessi
dalla tromba militare. Naturalmente, ritroviamo tra i segni percepìbili con
l'udito, in una posizio ne dominante, anche le parole: "Le parole, in
effetti, hanno ottenuto tra gli uomini il primissimo posto per l'espressione
dei pensieri di ogni genere, che ciascuno di essi vuole ester nare"
(Dedoctr. Christ., II, III, 4). Tra i segni percepibili con la vista Agostino
elenca i cenni della testa, i gesti, i movimenti corporei degli attori, le ban
diere e le insegne militari, le lettere. Infine vengono presi in
considerazione i segni che riguar dano altri sensi, come l'odorato (l'odore
dell'unguento sparso sui piedi di Cristo), il gusto (il sacramento dell'euca
ristia), il tatto (il gesto della donna che toccò la veste di Cri sto e fu
guarita). 10.6.4 "Signa naturalia" e "signa data"
Sicuramente fondamentale, anche se non direttamente integrabile al nostro
albero inclusivo, risulta lo schema di classificazione che oppone i signa
naturalia ai signa data. I primi sono "quelli che senza intenzione, né
desiderio di si gnificare, fanno conoscere qualcos'altro, oltre a se stessi,
come il fumo significa il fuoco" (De doctr. Christ. , II, I, 2). Ne sono
esempi anche le tracce lasciate da un animale e le espressioni facciali che
rivelano, inintenzionalmente, irrita zione o gioia . Dopo averli definiti ,
Agostino dichiara di non volerli trattare ulteriormente. È invece maggiormente
interessato ai signa data, in quan to a questa categoria appartengono anche i
segni della Sa cra Scrittura. Essi vengono definiti come "quelli che
tutti gli esseri viventi si fanno, gli uni agli altri, per mostrare, per quanto
possono, i movimenti della loro anima, cioè tutto ciò che essi sentono e
pensano" (De doctr. Christ. , II, II, 3). Gli esempi sono soprattutto i
segni linguistici umani (le pa role) . Ma Agostino, curiosamente, include in
questa classe an che i segni emessi dagli animali, come quelli che si hanno
quando il gallo segnala alla gallina di aver trovato il cibo (ibidem). Questo
crea una marcata differenza rispetto ad Aristotele, che include i gridi degli
animali tra i segni natu rali (De int., 16 a). Ma Aristotele opponeva
"naturale" a "convenzionale", mentre i signa data non sono
i "segni convenzionali", come Markus (1957: 75) aveva suggerito (e
come del resto era sta to proposto dalla traduzione francese di G. Combès e J.
Farges). I signa data sono i "segni intenzionali" (Engels 1962: 367;
Darrel Jackson 1969: 14), e corrispondono a 1:1na AGOSTINO ben precisa
intenzione comunicativa (De doctr. Christ. , Il , III, 4). È del resto il
carattere intenzionale che permette ad Agostino di includere tra i signa data
quelli emessi dagli animali, anche se egli non si pronuncia sulla natura di que
sta intenzionalità animale (Eco 1987: 78). Del resto, come nota Todorov, porre
l'accento sull'idea di intenzione corrisponde al progetto semiologico generale
di Agostino, orientato verso la comunicazione. I segni intenzionali, o meglio,
creati espressamente in vista della comunicazione, possono essere messi in
corrisponden za del syrnbolon di Aristotele e della combinazione stoica di un
significante con un significato; quelli naturali, ovvero già esistenti come
cose, corrispondono invece ai smeia, sia aristotelici che stoici Uno dei punti
fondamentali della semiologia agostiniana è costituito dalla ricerca dei modi
in cui si può stabi lire il significato dei segni. Tale indagine è condotta
soprat tutto nel De Magistro, dove si può rintracciare una conce zione
semantica che si avvicina al tipo della "semiosi illimi tata" di
Peirce. Come ha rilevato anche Markus (1957: 66), il significato di un segno,
per Agostino, può essere stabilito o espresso mediante altri segni, per
esempio: fornendo dei sinonimi; attraverso l'indicazione con il dito puntato;
per mezzo di gesti; tramite astensione (De Mag. , III e VII). Questa concezione
del significato si rende possibile sol tanto nel momento in cui viene
abbandonato lo schema equazionale del simbolo, per adottare, come fa Agostino,
quello implicazionale del segno. La teoria semiologica ago stiniana si apre
così, come ha messo in evidenza Eco, verso un modello "istruzionale"
della descrizione semantica. Se ne può cogliere un esempio neIl'analisi che
Agostino conduce insieme ad Adeodato del verso virgiliano "si nihil ex
tanta superis placet urbe relinqui" (De Mag.). Esso viene definito come
composto di otto segni, dei quali, appunto si cerca il
significato. L'indagine comincia da l si l , di cui si riconosce che espri
me un significato di "dubbio", dopo aver tuttavia sottoli neato che
non si è trovato un altro termine da sostituire al primo per illustrare lo
stesso concetto. Si passa, poi, a lni hi/1 , il cui significato viene
individuato come !'"affezione dell'animo" che si verifica quando, non
vedendo una cosa, se ne riconosce l'assenza. In seguito Agostino chiede ad
Adeodato il significato di lexl ed esso propone una definizione sinonimica:
lexl sa rebbe equivalente a l de l . Agostino non è soddisfatto di questa
soluzione e argomenta che il secondo termine è certo un'interpretazione del
primo, ma ha bisogno di essere a sua volta interpretato. La solu2ione finale è
che l ex l significa "una separazione" da un oggetto. A questa
conclusione, pe rò, viene aggiunta anche una successiva istruzione per la sua
decodifica contestuale: il termine può esprimere separa zione rispetto a
qualcosa che non esiste più, come nel caso della città di Troia a cui si allude
nel verso virgiliano; oppu re il termine può esprimere separazione da qualcosa
che è ancora esistente, come quando diciamo che in Africa ci so no alcuni
negozianti provenienti da Roma. Il significato di un termine, allora, "è
un blocco (una se rie, un sistema) di istruzioni per le sue possibili
inserzioni contestuali, e per i suoi diversi esiti semantici in contesti di
versi (ma tutti ugualmente registrabili in termini di codice).” La struttura
implicativa permette regole del tipo "Se A appare nei contesti x, y,
allora significa B; ma se B, allora C; ecc.", regole che sono comuni tanto
al modello istruzio nale quanto alla semiosi illimitata. In definitiva, è
proprio grazie ali'assunzione generalizza ta del modello implicazionale che la
semiologia agostiniana riesce a porsi sia come sintesi delle acquisizioni
semiolingui stiche del mondo antico (teoria della parola come segno), sia come
potente anticipazione di alcune delle più recenti tendenze della ricerca attuale
in campo semantico (modello istruzionale) . 1 In altre opere, al posto di
dicibile troviamo l'espressione significatio; a esempio in De Magistro, 10.34.
2 Si deve notare che Agostino adopera l'espressione verbum in due sen si: (i)
uno tecnico e specifico, che è quello dell'uso metalinguistico della pa rola;
(ii) uno generale, che corrisponde alla nozione ampia di "parola", co
me "segno di ciascuna cosa che, proferito dal parlante, possa essere
inteso dalJ'ascoltatore" (cap. V). 1 La natura della nozione di dictio,
come composizione di significante e significato, è messa chiaramente in risalto
dalla definizione del cap. V da De dialectica. Quel che ho detto dictio è una
parola, ma una parola che significhi ormaj le due unità precedenti
conten1poraneamente, la parola (verbum) stessa e ciò che è prodotto nell'animo
per mezzo della parola [di cibile]". La dictio, inoltre, "non
procede per se stessa, ma per significare qualcosa d'altro" (ibidem). 4 Si
ricorderà che dagli stoici un segno era concepito, in termini propo sizionali,
come un antecedente che rimandava a un conseguente; cfr. Sext. Emp., Adv.
Math., VliI, 245. s Per questa nozione, cfr. Lotman-Uspenskij (1975). Refs.:
Luigi Speranza, “Philosophical psychology in the commentaries of Pietro
Lombardo and Grice,” per il Club Anglo-Italiano, The Swimming-Pool Library,
Villa Grice, Liguria, Italia. Lombardia Grice: “It is strange that he was
called Piero da Lombardia; it would be like ‘a lad from shropshire.’
‘Lombardia,’ unlike Ockham, ain’t a townbut a full regionIt’s different with
‘veneto,’ which is toponymic and metonymic for Venice. But if Milano was the
main ever settlement in Lombardia this would be “Peter, the one from Milan.”
Lombardo Pietro Lombardo Lumellogno Cardano – Grice: “It’s only natural that he
was Pietro Cardano – after the city in Lombardy, Cardano – Plus, the
implicature that he went by “Peter of Lombardy” having been born in Piemonte,
means that the locals never saw him as one of their own!” -- Pietro Cardano – la stirpe Cardano 1600 --.
Familia patrizia di Novara. Pietro
Cardano. Keywords: Cardano, implicatura. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Grice e
Cardano” – The Swimming-Pool Library. Cardano.
Grice e
Cardia: l’implicatura conversazionale del culto del laico – filosofia italiana
– Luigi Speranza (Roma). Filosofo italiano. Grice: “Cardia
is what I would call the Italian Hart – with a tweak – Italy and religion is
Cardia’s forte – recall that the bishop of Rome has the roots in the ‘pontifex’
of old Rome, so he knows what he’s talking about!” – Grice: “Like me, Cardia
has philosophised, as what the Italians call a professore di filosofia del
diritto, on the ethical versus legal implicatures of the very idea of a ‘right’
(diritto). We don’t have that economy of vocabulary in Engish – calling Hart
the professor of right would be unnacepptable at Oxford!”. Si laurea a Roma.
Clifton has chapel services and a focus on Christianity. This is the Chapel:
here, my son, Your father thought the thoughts of youth, And heard the words
that one by one The touch of Life has turn'd to truth. Here in a day that is
not far, You too may speak with noble ghosts Of manhood and the vows of war You
made before the Lord of Hosts. The magnificent Chapel sits at the heart of
Clifton both spiritually and physically and has played an important part of life.
Topped by a striking copper-clad lantern and built from soft red and
honey-coloured stone, the Chapel provides Christian calm, and forms a powerful
link between past and present. It is a place where the community come to mark
milestones and celebrate successes, and for quiet contemplation or spiritual
guidance. Brass plates placed on the back of the staff stalls mark the
names of all those who have carved out a reputation. High on the walls are
memorials of pupils of another age who died by accident or disease serving the
Empire. One bears the moving epitaph ‘A good life hath but few days but a good
name endureth forever.’ The Chapel was built to a design by C. Hansom. It is a narrow
aisleless building. It is the gift of the widow of W. J. Guthrie. Hansom is given
permission to quarry sufficient stone from the grounds of Clifton for the
purposes of the Chapel building". The Chapel building is licensed by the
Bishop of Gloucester and Bristol. Stato, Chiese e
pluralismo confessionale Rivista telematica statoechiese.it) Colaianni
(ordinario di Diritto ecclesiastico nella Facoltà di Giurisprudenza
dell’Università degli Studi di Bari) Quale laicità. Con questo saggio C. si
affaccia sul versante polemistico della letteratura giuridica con la maestria
affinata attraverso una copiosa produzione saggistica e con la non comune
versatilità che negli ultimi anni lo ha portato ad occuparsi dei problemi di
tutela non solo delle confessioni religiose ma anche dei diritti umani. I
bersagli della polemica sono indicati nel sottotitolo: etica,
multiculturalismo, islam, non in sé naturalmente ma in quanto declinati in
maniera rispettivamente relativistica, separatistica, fondamentalistica. Capaci
cioè di esaltare le identità oltre ogni limite e di attentare, quindi, a quello
“stato laico sociale” che, dopo secoli di storia travagliata e i totalitarismi
del secolo breve, a cavallo del nuovo millennio ha trionfato un po’ dovunque in
Europa e in tutto l’occidente. Questo carattere ben si coglie secondo l’autore
nella “rivincita dei concordati”. Un fenomeno effettivamente impressionante,
tanto più perché si inserisce in un trend favorevole alle relazioni con le
confessioni, da cui non prendono le distanze neanche l’Unione europea, in base
ad una dichiarazione allegata al trattato di Amsterdam, e la Francia della Loi
de séparation, secondo le proposte della commissione governativa Machelon1. Da
esso C. deduce che lo stato è ormai amico delle religioni, che contribuisce
attivamente a sottrarre all’irrilevanza degli affari privati e a reimmettere
nel circuito pubblico, relegando l’ostilità del laicismo ottocentesco nel museo
della memoria. C., Le sfide della laicità. Etica, multiculturalismo,
islam, Edizioni San Paolo, Cinisello Balsamo, destinata alla pubblicazione
sulla rivista “Laicità”, Torino. Cfr. F. MARGIOTTA BROGLIO, su Reset Stato,
Chiese e pluralismo confessionale Rivista telematica Dal quale non varranno a
riesumarla le “guerricciole”, rinfocolate dal “micro-massimalismo” di chi spera
di “rivivere un po’ dell’epopea del passato” e non si accorge che ormai lo
stato italiano gli accordi li fa anche con confessioni non cattoliche e, peraltro,
non è l’unico ad integrare le scuole private e confessionali nel sistema
scolastico, ad assicurare l’insegnamento religioso confessionale nelle scuole
pubbliche, a finanziare lautamente la chiesa cattolica ma anche le altre
confessioni. L’agile sintesi storico-politica, condotta nella prima metà del
libro, consente a C. di avallare questa laicità realistica, che ad altri è
sembrata più propriamente “praticistica”. A quella stregua l’autore tratta con
sufficienza i rinnovati contrasti tra stato e chiesa (che pure sono al centro
delle preoccupazioni di altri libri coevi3 ) tanto quanto con drammaticità le
sfide suindicate. A cominciare dal multiculturalismo, che in effetti nella
versione spinta si presenta sotto la forma di un comunitarismo senza coesione.
Il “fascino discreto” che in molti differenzialisti suscitano gli statuti
personali, di medioevale o ottomana memoria, è giustamente visto come una
relativizzazione della laicità: a vantaggio, in particolare, dell’islam.
Ovviamente C. è severo con la “partita giocata su due tavoli”: non si può
invocare la laicità contro i “simboli e la memoria del cristianesimo” e a
favore di quelli dell’islam, per cui “verrebbero estromessi i crocifissi, ma
sarebbero ammessi il velo e la preghiera degli islamici”. Ma i termini del
paragone sono omogenei solo apparentemente: il crocifisso fa problema per la
laicità non se portato addosso al corpo, se fa parte del libero abbigliamento
dei cittadini (come il velo o altri segni religiosi), ma in quanto esposto
autoritativamente, cioè imposto, negli spazi pubblici, scolastici, giudiziari.
In effetti, è tutta la seconda parte del libro a risentire di questa
drammatizzazione impressa ai vari scenari. Islam versus cristianesimo. Di là un
sistema chiuso ad ogni interpretazione evolutiva, un’identità fissa e
immutabile, di qua una religione tollerante, aperta all’interpretazione
storico-critica dei testi sacri e alla laicità, la quale in essa sarebbe
addirittura “germinata”. La schematizzazione diventa 2 Per esempio
a BELLINI nel saggio coevo Il diritto d’essere se stessi. Discorrendo dell’idea
di laicità. Come quelli di ZAGREBELSKY, Lo stato e la chiesa, o di BIANCHI, La
differenza cristiana, o di RUSCONI, Non abusare di Dio. Stato, Chiese e
pluralismo confessionale Rivista telematica inevitabile. In realtà,
l’involuzione della seconda metà del XX secolo, a parte i fanatismi e i
terrorismi, non è riuscita a spegnere le numerose voci laiche dell’islam
moderno4 né, a livello istituzionale, ad annullare, pur frenandola,
l’applicazione negli stati islamici di una legge non religiosa, il kanun, “nel
senso laico di ‘legge di stato’in contrapposizione alla sharī ‘a” 5. D’altro
canto, bisogna riconoscere che abbiamo tutti sovracaricato il detto evangelico
“Quae sunt Caesaris Caesari, quae sunt Dei Deo” di un significato improprio e
anacronistico, in termini appunto di laicità, che nessun biblista ha mai potuto
avallare (vorrei ricordare qui almeno Barbaglio, che ci ha lasciato pochi mesi
fa: nel suo La laicità del credente non cita mai il versetto di Matteo).
Storicamente poi, anche a voler retrodatare – seguendo Ernst-Wolfgang
Böckenförde6 - alla lotta delle investiture l’inizio del processo di secolarizzazione,
non v’è dubbio che per secoli la chiesa ha sostenuto la supremazia del potere
spirituale ratione peccati o salutis anche nella sfera mondana. E al giorno
d’oggi la più netta distinzione degli ordini formulata dal Concilio non sta
impedendo il tentativo di informare la legislazione italiana al magistero
ecclesiastico: è la chiesa dei no alla procreazione medica assistita (divieto
dell’eterologa, della diagnosi preimpianto dell’embrione), al testamento
biologico, visto come anticamera di pratiche eutanasiche, al riconoscimento
pubblico di unioni civili in qualsiasi forma (pacs, dico, cus, ecc.),
emblematicamente (a luglio alla Camera) al richiamo del principio di laicità
come fondamento di una legge sulla libertà di religione (che pur non tocca la
chiesa cattolica). Neanche C. indulge su questi punti. Il suo no è altrettanto
netto. In nome della laicità e contro il relativismo etico. Ma poiché su quei
punti, con varie sfumature, il pensiero laico (di non credenti e agnostici ma
anche di credenti) è per il sì, è evidente che ci si trova davanti ad una
diversa concezione della laicità. Tanto rispettabile nei suoi riferimenti
eteronomi, divini o naturali e perciò antichi o “ancestrali”, quanto incapace
di far capire - per dirla con Habermas7 - “quale ruolo e significato i
fondamenti giuridici secolarizzati della costituzione possono avere per una
società [Cfr. l’antologia di BRANCA e quelle più recenti di V. COLOMBO.
5 Così ne Il linguaggio politico dell’Islam B. LEWIS, studioso fra i più
citati nel libro. 6 Cfr. BÖCKENFÖRDE, Diritto e secolarizzazione.
HABERMAS, Il futuro della natura umana. Stato, Chiese e pluralismo
confessionale Rivista telematica (statoechiese postsecolare”,
come la nostra. In una democrazia necessariamente relativistica (se, al
contrario, fosse assolutistica non sarebbe democrazia, insegna Kelsen) la
laicità alimenta norme non di supremazia ma di compatibilità, espressive di una
vocazione non paternalistica, ma responsabilizzante, nei rapporti tra stato e
cittadini: visti non come meri educandi, da guidare nelle scelte etiche in base
a valori esterni, ma come persone responsabili delle loro scelte nella propria
autonomia e capaci di mediarle alla ricerca di quella “giusta”8. Una laicità
pluralistica e perciò non espressiva di una sola cultura ma interculturale
(come dovrebbe porsi ormai tutto il diritto secondo Otfried Höffe9 ). Le cui
sfide, e il libro di Cardia stimola ad intraprendere questo percorso di
riflessione, non vengono da una parte sola. 8 In questo senso
rilegge il da mi factum, dabo tibi ius RODOTÀ, La vita e le regole. 9
Cfr. O. HÖFFE, Globalizzazione e diritto penale. LA LAICITA’ IN ITALIA (C.)
(Convegno Giuristi) Sommario. Premessa. 1. La laicità in Italia tra conflitto e
moderazione. 2. Laicismo, intransigenza cattolica, isolamento culturale. 3. Dai
Patti Lateranensi al modello costituzionale di respiro europeo. 4. La crisi
della laicità. Laicità ed etica. 5. Cultura laica e questione islamica. Laicità
e multiculturalismo. Ambiguità e prospettive. Premessa. E’ mia intenzione
soffermarmi sulle problematiche attuali della laicità in Italia, anche perché
sono diverse e complesse. Però, penso sia necessario dare spazio a qualche
riflessione storica che ci aiuti a comprendere meglio le questioni che abbiamo
di fronte nel tempo presente. Si tratta, più che di una analisi organica, di
spunti ricostruttivi utili a cogliere alcune costanti della nostra tradizione.
Ho avvertito questa esigenza perché l’esperienza italiana ha un tratto
caratteristico che non si rinviene altrove, avendo dato vita nello spazio di
poco più di un secolo a tre tipologie diverse di relazioni ecclesiastiche: una
laico-separatista, una di tipo concordatario neo-confessionista, e quella
costituzionale che poi si è evoluta nel quadro di una Europa che ha finito per
seguire il nostro modello. Infine, l’Italia sta vivendo una vera crisi della
laicità, in rapporto alla questione etica, e al multiculturalismo, ed è entrata
in quella globalizzazione dei rapporti tra religione e società che riguarda
l’Occidente nel suo complesso. Quindi, l’esperienza italiana non è
comprensibile all’interno di un solo orizzonte storico-culturale, mentre
l’analisi deve mantenere un respiro più ampio e saper individuare delle linee
trasversali di riflessione, dei fili conduttori che chiariscano il percorso
storico complessivo che si è compiuto. La laicità in Italia tra conflitto e
moderazione Il primo filo conduttore che voglio privilegiare è il rapporto che
si è determinato tra conflitto e moderazione, tra correnti estreme del pensiero
laico, e di quello cattolico, e soluzioni storico- 2 normative che sono state
adottate. La storiografia più accreditata ci ha abituati a interpretare questo
rapporto a tutto favore della conflittualità e a discapito della moderazione.
Ancora oggi il conflitto tra Stato e Chiesa è considerato un tratto eminente della
storia italiana, il punto focale che illumina tutto il resto. Il processo di
unificazione nazionale viene letto alla luce del contrasto tra laici e
cattolici, della fine del potere temporale, della prevalenza della
modernizzazione sul conservatorismo cattolico. Anche l’epoca autoritaria che dà
vita ai Patti Lateranensi è vista in chiave di rivincita cattolica e di
sconfitta laica, come un rovesciamento di fronte rispetto all’epoca liberale.
Questa interpretazione resta valida perché permette di capire tante pagine
della nostra storia nazionale, ma può essere integrata con un’altra chiave di
lettura che aiuti a vedere anche i chiaro-scuri, i toni più morbidi, della
storia italiana. Questa chiave di lettura è quella della moderazione e
dell’equilibrio che, pur nelle vicende aspre che conosciamo, ha segnato la
storia italiana. L’Italia è stata moderata ed equilibrata nel separatismo, in
parte nel sistema concordatario, in modo speciale nella elaborazione della
Costituzione. Quando parlo di moderazione non intendo esaltare il carattere per
così dire compromissorio generalmente riconosciuto alla genti italiche. Mi
riferisco ad un dato realmente presente nelle nostre leggi, in ampi settori
della cultura laica e di quella cattolica, che ci aiuta a meglio comprendere la
storia e l’evoluzione della laicità in Italia. La moderazione del periodo
separatista si manifesta in tanti modi, ma nell’insieme consente all’Italia di operare
un sottile, solido compromesso con l’anima cattolica del paese su punti
essenziali, ed evita l’affermazione di tendenze francesizzanti che pure
esistono in esponenti della classe dirigente liberale. In Italia non si afferma
mai l’idea della reformatio ecclesiae come obiettivo proprio dello Stato.
L’aspirazione ad una evoluzione della Chiesa è parte integrante del pensiero
laico e dei riformatori cattolici dell’Ottocento, ma da noi non si trovano
tracce significative di quel disegno (tipicamente transalpino) che mira alla
costituzione civile del clero, a stravolgere le strutture ecclesiastiche, a
creare una chiesa nazionale quieta e obbediente al potere civile. La struttura
della Chiesa, gli enti ecclesiastici mantenuti, l’educazione e la disciplina
del clero, non subiscono ingerenze o stravolgimenti diretti a modificarne la
natura. Nel dibattito sulle Facoltà di teologia è il ministro Correnti che
respinge le tentazioni giurisdizionaliste e afferma che lo Stato non ha “né
interesse, né volontà, né facoltà di creare teologi”, che l’evoluzione della
religione è compito della Chiesa, e la “Chiesa troverà in sé stessa, e solo in
se stessa può trovare, la volontà e la forza di ravvicinarsi” alla modernità.
L’unico intervento chirurgico è quello che sopprime le corporazioni e le
congregazioni religiose. Ma anche in questo intervento, che storicamente si
giustifica con la necessità di ridistribuire la grande proprietà ecclesiastica,
non mancano i segni di moderazione, se vogliamo della dissimulazione. Come quando
le comunità religiose si ricostituiscono progressivamente al riparo delle c.d.
frodi pie, che consentono l’utilizzazioni di proprietà immobiliari messe a
disposizione da veri prestanome. Comunque, a nessuno in Italia è mai venuto in
mente di adottare leggi draconiane come quelle transalpine, la prima che vieta
alle congregazioni religiose non riconosciute l’insegnamento, la seconda che
prevede multa e carcere per chi apra una scuola nella quale insegni anche un
solo religioso. Ho sfioato il problema della scuola, perché su questo terreno
si opera il più grande compromesso italiano, sul quale storici e giuristi si
soffermano poco. Alla laicizzazione della scuola italiana, con la Legge Casati
, non segue la cancellazione della presenza cattolica nel corpo scolastico
pubblico. Se l’insegnamento religioso viene escluso nelle scuole superiori,
rimane però in quelle elementari. La Legge Coppino non dice nulla
al riguardo, e questo silenzio, con l’aiuto del Consiglio di Stato,
consente di mantenere l’insegnamento religioso che, ci dice Francesco Scaduto,
viene attivato da quasi tutti i Consigli comunali e seguito dalla totalità
delle famiglie italiane. Neanche si può dire che la questione passi sotto
silenzio, perché un Regolamento conferma l’insegnamento religioso, e la Camera
respinge nello stesso anno una mozione di Bissolati che chiede di vietare ogni
presenza religiosa nelle scuole. Molto chiaramente Minghetti compara gli
inconvenienti di una scuola che preveda l’insegnamento religioso a quelli di
una scuola che lo esclude, e afferma che “i primi saranno sempre minori di
quelli di una scuola che dovrebbe essere popolare, ma che senza Dio ripugna
alla coscienza popolare e addiviene atta a soddisfare soltanto una piccola
minoranza”. Si può dire che è poco, invece è moltissimo, perché la scuola
elementare è l’unica vera scuola di massa dell’epoca. Per questa ragione
l’Italia separatista ha operato le grandi riforme della modernità ma ha saputo
mantenere un raccordo di fondo tra il sentire comune della popolazione e una
legislazione non aggressiva e non punitiva. E’ l’Italia laica e separatista che
affida ai maestri e alle maestrine della letteratura dell’Ottocento l’onere di
trasmettere elementari ma importanti valori religiosi e morali nelle nuove
generazioni. L’elogio della moderazione non deve fare aggio sull’altro fattore
endemico dell’esperienza italiana, su quella arretratezza che, in modo diverso,
caratterizza alcuni settori della cultura laica, e della cultura cattolica, e
che provoca per lungo tempo un isolamento rispetto ad altre più avanzate
esperienze europee e alla cultura anglosassone, cioè rispetto al resto del
mondo. Mi riferisco alle correnti laiciste che animano la cultura politica,
danno vita al pensiero più autenticamente anticlericale, rendono la laicità
ostile alla religione. Ma anche all’arroccarsi di quell’intransigenza che frena
la capacità di iniziativa dei cattolici, li estranea a lungo dalla vita
politica del Paese. Nel conflitto, e nel corto circuito, tra intransigenza
cattolica e correnti laiciste sta la radice di una chiusura provinciale che in
Italia condiziona a lungo le relazioni ecclesiastiche. Il radicarsi di queste
tendenze immette nella cultura italiana semi che tornano a fiorire di tanto in
tanto. Il laicismo produce cultura, mentalità, costume, e fa sì che anche da
noi come in Francia, laicità voglia dire tante cose negative: estraniazione
della religione dalla società e dalla dimensione pubblica, ostilità alla scuola
privata nonostante il liberalismo sia altrove il difensore del pluralismo
scolastico, riduzione della Chiesa ad un ambito puramente cultuale. In Italia,
come oltr’Alpe, il termine laico è contrapposto a cattolico, e questa antitesi,
sconosciuta nei paesi anglosassoni, diviene da noi categoria del pensiero e del
linguaggio. Quando faccio riferimento alle tendenze laiciste mi riferisco sia
all’anticlericalismo di matrice ottocentesca che alle correnti culturali di
grande dignità che da Spaventa a Bissolati rivivono poi in Salvemini e in Rossi,
e che di più aspirano ad una Chiesa riformata, apparentemente tutta spirituale
ma muta sul piano civile e sociale. Queste correnti si ravvivano quando
l’accordo tra Chiesa e fascismo di fatto umilia la laicità, provocando una
frattura seria tra la cultura laica ed un cattolicesimo al quale viene
restituito un ruolo di primo piano, ma con il sacrificio di altre idealità e di
altri ruoli. Anche l’intransigenza cattolica riaffiora più volte nella
storia italiana, impedisce a tratti di cogliere le trasformazioni della
società, di discernere gli aspetti positivi dalle spinte disgreganti, porta
all’arroccamento su posizioni che potrebbero essere evitate. La critica più
autentica a questo corto circuito non è diretta alle singole posizioni radicali
che produce, quanto al fatto che da lì è derivato un certo isolamento rispetto
alla cultura anglosassone, rispetto ad altre esperienze europee, come quelle
dell’Olanda, del Belgio e della Germania, dove già nell’Ottocento maturano
equilibri più stabili tra religione e società. Una conferma di questo
provincialismo sta nell’incomunicabilità tra esperienza italiana ed esperienza
statunitense, alla quale pure molti laici si richiamano, senza mai averla
capita e forse conosciuta. Lo stesso Salvemini, che pure conosceva la società
americana, di quell’esperienza evoca sempre e soltanto la parola separatismo,
non i suoi contenuti, né la sua anima pregna di rispetto e di amicizia verso la
religione. Possiamo verificare questa lontananza della cultura laica rispetto
alle correnti del pensiero anglosassone su un particolare problema, quello
della scuola privata, nel quale il liberalismo italiano si è discostato dai
canoni del liberalismo classico per seguire un indirizzo statalistico destinato
a dominare a lungo. C’un dibattito di metà Ottocento (oggi dimenticato ma molto
importante all’epoca) nel quale Berti critica quei liberali che per paura di
monopolio combattono la libertà di insegnamento, e afferma che questa trae il
suo diritto dall’individuo medesimo, dalla sua libertà, ed è da annoverarsi tra
“gli altri diritti naturali”. E’ Bertando Spaventa che si oppone a Berti ed
esplicita la vera ragione della contrarietà alla scuola privata. La ragione sta
nel fatto che “i paladini” del libero insegnamento finiscono per portare acqua
al mulino della “libertà del papa”, perché in Italia dare via libera alle scuole
private vuol dire favorire la scuola cattolica. Quindi, con grande trasparenza
si riconosce che il vero liberalismo postula la libertà della scuola, ma in
Italia questo liberalismo non è praticabile perché se ne avvarrebbero i
cattolici. Insomma, al liberalismo si ricorre quando fa comodo, altrimenti lo
si mette da parte. 3. Dai Patti Lateranensi al modello costituzionale di
respiro europeo In Italia, però, si ritrova un altro elemento equilibratore che
consente di attenuare le asperità e finisce col favorire le soluzioni
strategiche adottate in sede di Costituente. Parlo di quella questione romana
che nessun altro Paese conosce, e che tocca all’Italia affrontare e risolvere
in modo autonomo. Anche su questo problema vorrei offrire uno spunto ricostruttivo
diverso rispetto alla storiografia prevalente. E’ vero che la questione romana
ha costituito il punto di maggiore attrito tra Stato e Chiesa, ed ha agito come
coagulo dell’intransigenza cattolica e come bersaglio dell’anticlericalismo.
Tuttavia, pur nei termini del conflitto che conosciamo, essa ha rappresentato
anche un elemento equilibratore nel periodo separatista, con la stipulazione
dei Patti Lateranensi, soprattutto all’atto della elaborazione della
Costituzione democratica. Quando parlo di elemento equilibratore intendo dire
che la presenza della Santa Sede ha fatto uscire il meglio di sé dalla classe
dirigente liberale nell’Ottocento, ha attenuato gli effetti che i Patti
Lateranensi hanno avuto sulla società italiana, ha favorito notevolmente il
lavoro che ha portato alla formulazione del disegno costituzionale complessivo
dei rapporti tra Stato e Chiesa. Già nell’Ottocento, la classe dirigente
liberale conferma la propria lungimiranza con quella Legge delle Guarentigie
che, pur temporaneamente, risolve la più grande questione storica europea, e,
dovendo misurarsi con un evento che interessa i cattolici di tutto il mondo, si
rivela capace di ad attenuare, smussare, equilibrare le asperità del
separatismo. Anche quando il Concordato ferisce duramente la laicità e la
cultura laica italiana, la soluzione definitiva del questione romana stempera
il valore politico del patto con il FASCISMO. Non a caso il giudizio delle
forze politiche ANTI-fasciste sui Patti Lateranensi si presenta come scisso in
due: severo e aspro, anche da parte cattolica, nei confronti dell’accordo
politico tra Chiesa e fascismo e del Concordato, ma positivo e accogliente nei
confronti del Trattato del Laterano. Sin dall’inizio Croce approva la soluzione
della questione romana, riservando le sue critiche al Concordato. Ma anche Salvemini,
durissimo con il Concordato, riconosce che la questione romana è ben risolta,
anzi afferma che ciò che è stato fatto avrebbero dovuto farlo i liberali.
Infine, i programmi elaborati dai leader dell’antifascismo durante la guerra in
vista della ricostruzione del Paese, concordano nel non voler rimettere in
discussione i risultati del Trattato del Laterano. Credo si possa dire che,
senza una questione romana risolta, forse non avremmo avuto quel tipo di
rapporti con la Chiesa che l’Italia elabora e che ha saputo anticipare un
modello oggi utilizzato in un numero considerevole di Paesi europei.
Nell’incontro tra le correnti del cattolicesimo democratico e la maggioranza
della cultura laica, l’Italia trova il modo di abbandonare un certo provincialismo
e riesce a parlare un linguaggio europeo, supera quel corto circuito che
l’aveva appesantita a lungo. Le scelte del costituente non sono riconducibili
al solo articolo, quanto alla maturazione di una laicità che è destinata a fare
scuola, a prefigurare un modello di Stato laico sociale che diverrà prevalente
nell’Europa che si unisce e conosce la fine dei totalitarismi. Si tratta di una
laicità complessa dove converge il meglio della tradizione separatista (in
materia di libertà religiosa), e dove il laicismo è superato dal riconoscimento
pieno della presenza e del ruolo sociale della religione. Si abbatte il muro
della incomunicabilità tra religione e società, si conferma e si estende il
metodo della contrattazione e dell’incontro, tra Stato e Chiese; si supera
l’ultimo tabù dell’Ottocento, per il quale nessun culto dovrebbe essere
finanziato dallo Stato perché lo impedirebbero le differenti opinioni religiose
dei cittadini. Sul finire del Novecento questo Stato laico sociale trionfa un
po’ dovunque. Non si contano più i concordati tra Santa Sede e Stati in Europa,
che sono oltre 20, come non si contano più intese, accordi, convenzioni tra
Stato e confessioni religiose, protestanti, ebraica, islamica, e altro ancora.
Ma è nel merito delle relazioni ecclesiastiche che il modello italiano fa
scuola in Europa. Dall’Atlantico alla Russia, ovunque troviamo una laicità
fondata su principi comuni: libertà religiosa, tutelata nel quadro dei diritti
umani, riconoscimento delle Chiese come entità impegnate in molteplici
attività, sostegno pubblico alle confessioni. Insomma, un mixer tra la
tradizione nordamericana di amicizia verso la religione, e la tradizione
europea di contrattazione e reciproca integrazione. Tanto solido è questo nuovo
orizzonte di laicità sociale che ormai in Europa si discute di riforma dei
rapporti tra Stato e Chiesa soltanto in Inghilterra e nei Paesi protestanti del
nord, dove ancora esistono Chiese ufficiali sottomesse e apparentate alle
dinastie regnanti. La laicità torna di attualità e vive una crisi di cui
non siamo ancora pienamente consapevoli, su terreni nuovi e in editi, come
quelli dell’etica e del multiculturalismo. Si tratta di fenomeni molto diversi,
perché nel primo caso siamo di fronte ad un uso indebito, quasi una
strumentalizzazione, del concetto di laicità, nel secondo assistiamo ad un
pericoloso arretramento dei valori più intimi dello Stato laico. Non entro nel
merito del rapporto tra etica e diritto. Non è oggetto della mia relazione, non
è possibile neanche sfiorarlo nella sua complessità. La mia attenzione è più
ristretta, riguarda il rapporto che esisterebbe tra laicità ed etica nel
momento in cui un ordinamento è chiamato a pronunciarsi su questioni decisive
per la collettività, come la famiglia, l’ingegneria genetica, l’eutanasia, e
via di seguito. Alcune elaborazione teoriche danno per scontato che il
pluralismo etico non è che un altro aspetto del pluralismo religioso, e “come
oggi ammettiamo e rispettiamo le varie confessioni religiose, così dobbiamo
riconoscere le varie moralità che affiancano o sostituiscono la fede
religiosa”. D’altra parte, si aggiunge, come nella religione non si dà verità
oggettiva, ma solo opinioni, così in campo etico lo Stato deve accettare tutte
le convinzioni e le scelte che si contendono il campo. Questa similitudine tra
religione ed etica è accattivante, ma nasconde un’insidia dialettica. In primo
luogo perché la neutralità dello Stato riguarda le convinzioni religiose, la
sfera più intima della spiritualità e della coscienza, non i comportamenti
delle persone, tanto meno quelli che coinvolgono gli altri. In questa materia
la legge non pretende mai di definire qual è la verità, ma sceglie sulla base
di valori che hanno una loro validità nel tempo, nella struttura sociale nella
quale si incarnano, e che possono dar vita a equilibri diversi tra etica e
diritto. In secondo luogo, si trascura il fatto che una neutralità dello Stato
estesa a tutte le scelte etiche porterebbe alla paralisi del legislatore e allo
svuotamento della funzione della legge. L’ordinamento non si interesserebbe più
della procreazione, dei doveri verso i figli, non potrebbe più disciplinare il
matrimonio, dovrebbe consentire tutto in materia di bioetica. Uno Stato
eticamente neutrale dovrebbe disporre il “rompete le righe” e preoccuparsi solo
di regolare il traffico delle attività sociali. C’è, poi, un corollario di
questa impostazione che viene utilizzato frequentemente. Si tratta di quel
ritornello che in Italia viene ripetuto spesso, secondo il quale in queste
materie lo Stato deve permettere, non proibire. Infatti, se permette non
obbliga nessuno, ma se proibisce impedisce a qualcuno di realizzarsi. Lo Stato
che liberalizza l’eutanasia non obbliga nessuno a praticarla, ma consente a chi
vuole di scegliere un’altra opzione. Se permette la fecondazione eterologa, non
la impone, ma se la nega erode spazi all’autonomia individuale. Io credo che ci
troviamo di fronte ad un uso improprio della laicità, e ad un vero sillogismo.
Se applicata coerentemente, questa logica porterebbe a risultati che ben pochi
si sentirebbero di sostenere. Si legittimerebbe la pratica della clonazione
umana, perché una legge che la liberalizzasse non costringerebbe nessuno a
clonare cellule e individui, mentre un divieto impedirebbe ad alcuni di seguire
i propri convincimenti. Dovrebbe essere permesso di intervenire sul genoma per
determinare alcune caratteristiche del nascituro, come il sesso, o il colore
della pelle o degli occhi, perché in ogni caso non si obbligherebbe nessuno a
queste operazioni, mentre vietandole si diminuirebbe l’autonomia individuale.
Questa impostazione dovrebbe indurre l’Authority inglese a rispondere
positivamente al recente quesito del Kings College, se sia lecito produrre
ibridi di umanità e animalità. Infatti, consentendo questa pratica non si
impone a nessun ricercatore di creare la chimera, ma proibendola si violerebbe
la libertà di quanti non hanno remore nel procedere su questa strada. Molti
sostenitori del relativismo si dichiarano contrari alla clonazione, alla chimera
e ad altre scelte estreme, ma spesso non sanno dire il perché. E non sanno
dirlo perché dovrebbero riconoscere che clonazione e chimera possono essere
escluse soltanto se si fa leva su valori antropologici primari, meritevoli di
trovare spazio nel mondo del diritto. Si dovrebbe allora riconoscere che la
laicità dello Stato non c’entra nulla quando la discussione riguarda questi
valori. E che nel gioco democratico della discussione, del convincimento, si
determineranno gli equilibri essenziali, modificabili nel tempo, sui confini
del diritto, sul rapporto tra autonomia e solidarietà. In questa discussione vi
è spazio per tutti, per le convinzioni religiose e per quelle filosofiche, per
l’apporto delle scienze e la mediazione della politica. Ma se il confronto viene
by-passato ricorrendo alla laicità per sbarrare la strada a determinate scelte,
vuol dire allora che c’è insicurezza in alcune posizioni relativistiche, le
quali non riescono ad elaborare valori convincenti, e utilizzano impropriamente
la laicità per dare alle proprie tesi una forza che probabilmente non hanno. 5.
Cultura laica e questione islamica L’analisi si fa più complessa se affrontiamo
il tema del multiculturalismo, perché questo fenomeno costituisce una grande
opportunità ma anche un grande rischio. Una opportunità per la laicità, che può
far risaltare il suo volto accogliente e il suo carattere universale di fronte
al mischiarsi delle popolazioni, delle pagine della storia, e della geografia.
Ma anche un rischio se con il multiculturalismo si vogliono reintrodurre nelle
nostre società antiche intolleranze, o costumi e tradizioni che evocano un
lontano passato. Le prime risposte a questo evento sono deludenti, alcune
preoccupanti, ma tutte riflettono un disorientamento generale. Vi sono a volte reazioni
di tipo islamofobico che fanno d’ogni erba un fascio, alimentano paure e
diffidenze, che vogliono negare all’islam ciò che la laicità deve garantire a
tutti. Mi sembra, però, che siano prevalenti le reazioni opposte, perché la
cultura laica sta rispondendo con uno spaesamento che tradisce incertezza e
insicurezza. Il multiculturalismo sta facendo emergere una insicurezza dei
valori della laicità, della loro validità e tendenziale universalità. Anche
quell’orgoglio che ha dato forza allo Stato laico, che ha prodotto diritto e
storia, sembra vacillare di fronte a chi appare più estraneo ai principi di
libertà ed eguaglianza. Potrei citare una pluralità di fatti, ed eventi, che
sembrano slegati tra di loro ma sono uniti da un robusto filo conduttore. Ne
indico alcuni per far riflettere sul loro significato complessivo. Pochi si
accorgono che si sta creando un divario crescente tra l’atteggiamento nei
confronti delle Chiese tradizionali e quello che si manifesta di fronte a
clamorose lesioni della laicità per motivi di multiculturalismo. Le prime
riflettono un’antica suscettibilità, quasi la memoria del conflitto, le altre
sono fatte di stupore e di silenzi. Se una Chiesa lucra ancora oggi qualche
favore giuridico, si reagisce con veemenza perché la laicità dello Stato
sarebbe in pericolo. Ma se vengono lanciate fatwe di morte contro letterati,
giornalisti o registi, per offese all’Islam, si tratta di episodi che non
riguardano lo Stato laico, non costituiscono istigazione all’omicidio. Se una
fatwa viene eseguita, l’omicidio è di competenza della cronaca nera. 8 Se
in un paese europeo si discute su temi etici, le prese di posizione delle
Chiese cristiane sono viste come espressioni di un nuovo temporalismo. Ma se,
in Europa o ai suoi confini, avvengono omicidi di donne che rifiutano regole
tribali, di derivazione islamica o meno, oppure se il diritto di cambiare
religione conduce ancora alla morte o all’emarginazione sociale, si considerano
questi eventi come frutto di arretratezza, anziché un salto indietro nella
storia della laicità. Nessun grido, nessun manifesto, nessun convegno è
dedicato loro. Uno strabismo particolare colpisce la cultura laica quando è in
gioco la questione femminile. Mentre gli ordinamenti europei adottano raffinati
strumenti per rendere effettiva la parità tra uomini e donne, normativa e
pratiche aliene che discriminano le donne, o le umiliano, non suscitano
ribellione o ripulsa. Un tempo la cultura laica reagiva con forza, definendole
oscurantiste e censorie, alle richieste di non eccedere nella liberalizzazione
dei costumi, e di frenare la licenziosità con cui veniva usata la figura
femminile. Oggi tace, quasi si nasconde, quando le donne vengono chiuse nel
burqa, o si chiedono classi separate nelle scuole, spiagge differenziate,
reparti ospedalieri distinti, o gli uomini rifiutano di essere subordinati sul
lavoro a dirigenti donne, e via di seguito. In diversi paesi occidentali,
dall’Inghilterra al Canada, dalla Germania al Belgio ai paesi del Nord Europa
si moltiplicano le proposte di introdurre la scharì’a, o suoi segmenti, senza
che suscitino scandalo per la ferita che porterebbero ai diritti umani
fondamentali. Soltanto il 24 ottobre corso, con grande ritardo, il Parlamento
europeo, ha approvato una risoluzione (peraltro molto positiva) sulla
condizione delle donne, sulla illegalità della poligamia, sulla lesione dei
diritti fondamentali. Le reazioni islamiche al discorso di Benedetto XVI a
Ratisbona sono ormai note, e non mi ci devo soffermare. Ma nessuno ha notato un
fatto che, in tema di laicità, ha sovrastato tutti gli altri. Il silenzio che i
più rigorosi laicisti hanno mantenuto nel difendere la libertà di parola e di
espressione contro minacce, violenze, ricatti. Eppure, per decenni questi
gruppi hanno ripetuto sino alla nausea il pensiero di Voltaire per il quale,
anche se non si condividono le idee di un altro, si è però pronti a spendere la
propria vita perché l’altro possa esprimere quelle idee. Ma dopo Ratisbona, non
si è spesa neanche una parola per difendere il diritto del Papa, come di
chiunque altro, ad esprimere le proprie valutazione sul rapporto tra fede e
violenza. A questi silenzi si aggiunge un fenomeno culturale meno appariscente
e più sotterraneo. Il cattolicesimo, e il cristianesimo, sono stati per due secoli
letteralmente vivisezionati per criticare e sradicare tutto ciò che sapesse di
temporalismo, di anti-modernità, per spezzare la loro alleanza con il potere
politico. Sull’intreccio tra altre religioni e sistemi politici dittatoriali,
oggi prevale l’afasia nella cultura liberale, in quella marxista o
anti-istituzionale. Sembra quasi che la critica illuministica e storicistica
che, pur con asprezze a faziosità, ha saputo fustigare, in certa misura ha
contribuito a rinnovare, le Chiese delle nostre società, scelga il silenzio di
fronte a ben più pesanti congiunzioni tra religione, violenza, dispotismi più o
meno teocratici. Tutto ciò apre degli interrogativi sul futuro della laicità in
Italia e in Europa; e li apre non su un punto o su un altro, ma sulla spinta
propulsiva che la laicità ha esercitato nel realizzare lo Stato moderno. Da
questi, e altri episodi, sta scaturendo una sorta di assuefazione rassegnata di
fronte alla mutazione genetica della laicità come la conosciamo in Occidente,
che può portare ad un esito paradossale: ad una laicità occhiuta e diffidente
verso le religioni tradizionali e ad un multiculturalismo disarmato e senza
valori verso altre religioni e tradizioni. Sarebbe la fine della neutralità
dello Stato. Laicità e multiculturalismo in Italia. Ambiguità e
prospettive Per meglio capire i rischi di questa frattura tra laicità e
multiculturalismo torniamo per un attimo all’esperienza italiana. L’Italia,
ancora una volta, si è dimostrata più di altri Paesi equilibrata e accogliente,
non condizionata da pregiudizi etnici o religiosi. L’Italia non ha fatto la
guerra al velo, e a nessun simbolo religioso, forse perché di simboli
confessionali ne conosce tanti da tanto tempo, dalle cattedrali alle chiese,
dai conventi ai battisteri, alle fogge vestiarie di religiosi e religiose
d’ogni genere. Quindi non avvertiamo disagio per un modesto velo che peraltro
può appellarsi alla libertà di abbigliamento. L’Italia ha predisposto una vasta
rete di accoglienza e sostegno sociale per l’immigrazione; sta cercando in
tanti modi di soddisfare le esigenze di culto dei soggetti dell’immigrazione;
prevede nei contratti di lavoro spazi per pratiche religiose, diversità
alimentari, tradizioni come quello del ramadan. Ma questo che può essere
considerato legittimamente un nostro vanto, si sta trasformando lentamente in
qualcosa d’altro. Si sta trasformando nell’oscuramento di principi e valori
essenziali, e nella accettazione di una cultura della separatezza che può
colpire la laicità. Parlo della tendenza a rimuovere il crocifisso dalle aule
scolastiche, e più in genere, tutta una simbologia e una tradizione di memorie
del cristianesimo, riprendendo concezioni laiciste superate. E’ di questi
giorni la notizia che nelle scuole, negli alberghi, in luoghi pubblici e privati
diminuiscono i presepi e gli alberi di natale per non urtare suscettibilità di
persone aderenti ad altri culti. Si realizza così quella che da tempo definisco
una partita giocata su due tavoli: quello della laicità che limita o cancella
simboli e presenze cristiane, e quello del multiculturalismo che legittima
altri simboli o presenze religiose. Sempre in Italia si manifestano i primi
sintomi di un cedimento multiculturale che mette a rischio i diritti
fondamentali dei cittadini, in primo luogo delle donne. Si accetta qua e là la
presenza del burqa, aumentano le voci favorevoli alla poligamia, si introducono
in qualche parte forme separate di vita collettiva, nelle scuole, nei luoghi
pubblici, si consente l’apertura di scuole islamiche fuori dei canoni previsti
dalle nostre leggi. Si tratta di primi sintomi, ma sono parecchi e di
significato univoco, e ci dicono che neanche noi siamo immuni dal rischio della
perdita di senso della laicità e dei suoi valori. Altra cosa sarebbe se della
laicità si offrisse il volto più maturo e accogliente, quello che sa
distinguere tra quanto di autenticamente religioso emerge da una tradizione, e
quanto appartiene ad arretratezza storica e culturale. Che sa rispettare e
tutelare il patrimonio spirituale di ciascuna religione ed etnia, ma sa
criticare e respingere ciò che collide con il sistema universale dei diritti
umani, con la libertà religiosa, con l’eguaglianza tra uomo e donna. Che sa,
cioè, promuovere il meglio della nostra e delle altrui tradizioni, ma si impegna
a far arretrare il resto. Sarebbe un’altra cosa, un’altra storia, e potremmo
dedicarvi un altro convegno. Trovare l’uomo capace, e l’investirlo
de’ simboli della capacità (culto, o com’altro sì chiami) così ch’egli possa
avere agio a governare secondo la propria facoltà, è l’officio di ogni
procedura sociale. A questo punto il Carlyle riscrive ‘worship’
WORTH-ship, per accentuarne l’etimologia da ‘worth,’ valore, compincendosi che
la ragione etimologica venga quasi ad attestare la nocessità del fatto che gli
sta tanto a cuore. Per mantenere questa relazione logica
Loubatières muta ‘worship’ nell’*équivalent adequat* di *élection* da prima, e
poi di *élite*. ‘Carlyle,’ soggiunge Loubatières, de son pergant et
rapide regard, dénude la racine des mots et des choses.’ Carlyle non è
punto tenero degli studi etimologici. Le parole gli si dischiudono
ad un tratto come si fendono le roccie allo sguardo diabolico del suo jötun
Hymir. Ci fa ripensare a quello che dice Daudet: ‘Il y a dans
cortains mots que nous employons ordinairement un ressort cachè qui tout à coup
les ouvre jusqu’au fond, nous les explique dans leur intimité
exceptionelle.’ ‘Puis le mot se replie, reprend sa forme banale et roule
insignifiant, usé par l’habitude et le machinal.’Carlo Cardia. Keywords: il
laico, filosofia vs. teologia, italia anti-papista, il filosofo italiano deve
essere neutro in questione di religione. Verdi – il papa – stati papali –
repubblica italiana – liberta di culto – giurisprudenza – religione dell’antica
roma – il pontifice nella religione romana antica – credenza religiosa –
credenza naturale – credenza super-naturale – il sovra-naturale – il naturale –
l’idea di religione nella antica Roma – il mito romano – la mitologia romana
antica – il sacro – il pagano – la filosofia della roma antica pagana – la
critica dei antichi romani al cristianesimo, il culto del laico, worship of the
hero, il culto dell’eroe -- Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Grice e Cardia” – The
Swimming-Pool Library. Cardia.
Grice e Cardone: l’implicatura conversazionale -- La
nudita eroica di Napoleone -- Clark Kent; ovvero, sul sovrumano – trasumanar –
l’eroe di Vico – hero-worship -- Annunzio e il fascismo -- filosofia italiana –
Luigi Speranza (Palmi). Filosofo
italiano. Grice: “Cardone plays with a coinage, sobraumnao, in Dionigio e
Luciano – it triggers implicata: what’s wrong with ‘human’? One is reminded of
Pico (‘dignita dell’uomo’) and D’Annunzio – it is a problem of linguistic
botanising for Italian phiosophers, ‘altreuomo’ being rendered as a translation
of Emersen’s ‘plus man’ – and cf. Carlyle – D’Annunzio, who should have known
better, prefers ‘suPer,’ when we know that in the ‘volgare,’ the ‘p’ becomes
‘v’, so Cardone has it just right!” Si laurea a Roma. Membro de Partito
Socialista Unitario. Fonda "Ebe" e la rivista "Rivista".
Fonda “Ricerche filosofiche”. Fonda la Società Filosofica Calabrese. Aattività
deontologica per la realizzazione di un'etica sociale della Cultura, in difesa
e promozione della civiltà, onde onorarlo per le sue incessanti iniziative
anche in favore della fratellanza umana. Altre opere: Saggi di storia,
filosofia e diritto; Il relativismo gnoseologico” (Palmi, A.Genovesi &
figli ed); Reazione collettiva (Torino, Paravia & C); I filosofi calabresi
nella storia della filosofia, con appendice sui sociologi e gli psicologi,
Palmi, A.Genovesi & Figli ed., “La filosofia dello Stato” (Città di Castello,
Casa Editrice Il Solco); Filosofia della vita, Città di Castello, Casa Editrice
Il Solco); Umanismo (Messina); Cristianesimo, liberalismo e comunismo, Palmi,
G. Palermo ed); Il Divenire e l'Uomo, Palmi, Ricerche filosofiche, “Civiltà,
Palmi, G. Palermo ed); Vita di Gesù secondo il Vangelo incompiuto, Modena-Roma,
Guanda Editore); La filosofia di Gesù, Milano, Bocca ed); L'uomo nel cosmo.
Storia e prospettive, Palmi, Ricerche filosofiche ed); Bio critica, a cura
della sezione bibliografica della Società Filosofica Calabrese, Bologna,
Mareggiani ed); Seguito alla Bio critica, a cura della sezione bibliografica
della Società Filosofica Calabrese, Cosenza, MIT); La vita come esperienza inutile,
Cosenza, Pellegrini); L'ozio la contemplazione il gioco la tecnica l'anarchismo,
Roma, Ricerche). Ricerche filosofiche, Torino, Edizioni di Filosofia). Il
Divenire” (Padova, Rebellato Editore). Si vis pacem para pacem, Montepulciano,
Editori Del Grifo, Ludi. Bologna, Soc.
Tip. Mareggiani ed); I confini dell'anima, Palmi, Ed. Del Fondaco di Cultura); La
banca della carità” (Milano, M. Gastaldi ed., 1962 Terapia del tramonto (Milano,
M. Gastaldi); Il figlio del dittatore” (Milano, M. Gastaldi); Canti del
Sant'Elia, Poggibonsi, Lalli); L'assenza e la mancanza: meditazioni quasi
poetiche, Cosenza, MIT). Dialogo sulla solitudine. divenir e vita. Filosofo-poeta.
Un inattuale nella sua attualita. i Napoleone non mi sembra per nulla così
grande come il Cromwell. Le sue enormi vittorie, che s’ estesero A 1
«Napoleone fu l'idolo della comune degli " 3 i gli nomini,
perchè a le qualità e le facoltà degli Cn OI k Ni Chi co: i 0 fesso
moderno; auche quand'è all'apice della fortuna; “gli aleggia dentro lo
stesso spirito che troviamo nei giornali del tempo. da 7 si
limitò alla piccola Inghilte che gli alti trampoli ti la statura
dell'uomo per essi lui sincerità parl d'una specie molto inferiore:
NOn quel suo silenzioso. Per 1 L'universo; NOn il « cammino
co lo chiamava; ‘pensiero, il valore, che S1 co
latenti, © 8° accendono poi quasi amm Napoleone vive in un’ epoca
che non avera più este: ; fede in Dio; che considera non-entità jl
significato ; a d’ogni silenzio, d'ogni qualità latente: non PIù sulla |.
È Bibbia puritan& aveva egli & fondarsi, ì scettiche
Enciclopedie. Eppure, tanto ei giunse-
ed meritorio L essere arrivato così lontano. Tl suo carattere :
compatto, pronto ed articolato, in ogni Senso, è in sè - stesso piccolo;
forse, a paragone i quello del nostro i grande Cromwell, caotico ed
inarticolato. Non è « muto profeta che si sforza di parlare.; > ha
piuttosto in sè un portentoso miscuglio di ciarlataneria ! Il
concetto dell’ Hume, d'una fanatica ipocrisia, Con quanto è in esso
di vero, potrà applicarsi molto meglio Napoleone che non s’ applicasse al
Cromwell, Maometto od ai loro
simili, per 1 quali realmente, preso & tutto rigore, conte- neva a
mala pena alcuna stilla di verità. Sin da prim- cipio, appare in quest’
uomo un elemento di riprovevole ambizione, che alla fine lo vince, trascina lui e l’opera sua in
ruma. a SE vi be divenne motto prover= era necessario di Ei a Se
ARen alto il coraggio de’ DARE bisognava tenere aggio de’ suol
uomini e così plesso, non ci son ; via. Fio Non è un santo, mon è
un cappuccino, per Usare la nemmeno un eroe, nell'alto signi
\ x guificato d al capo VI: Napoleone o l' uomo di pagata pa
tutta 1 Europa, mentre il e: o di & da espressione sua; È
; » (Emerson, op. cita È dedi $ A. prrura
SEST è i eglio, lungo e stato ID o resse Ind so,
se non at i oleone ste55° ; atti, ba alcun proposito che sì ;
:orno; ch'è destinato e KI x . ‘no vantaggio può mal ve-
anl a dolo one? Le menzogne SI sco- ul a ruinos@ La
prossima agi ‘ near È e prestar fe al bugiardo; quand
an +1 della più alta impor prono, © se nessuno VOST Da
uand' anche s1a che dica il vero» È ;l vecchio grido: < Al
tei venga creduto. A cr È Una bugia è nulla; al nulla, nom
Potere lupo ‘> a farete, e avrete vare qualch - alla
fine, null er giunta rimess Y x È Dare verain Napoleone una
certa sincerità ; anche è) nella insincerità, bisogna
distinguere quanto è super: ficiale da quanto è fondamentale. A traverso
& que ste sue macchinazioni esteriori, & queste
ciarlatanerie, ch''erano molte e riprovevolissime, vediamo pure
nel- Jla realtà, istintivo e impossi- l'uomo un certo
senso de ) bile a sradicare; vediamo ch' el Sl fondò sul fatto....
SI n lui l'istinto di na- tanto ch’ ebbe alcun fondamento.
I tura è superiore alla cultura. Il Bourrienne ' racconta che i
suoi savants, in quel viaggio d’ Egitto, s' affanna= vano una sera a
dimostrare che non ci può essere Dio. Erano riusciti a provarlo, a loro
grande soddisfazione, con ogni maniera di logica. Napoleone, guardando
su, alle stelle, risponde : «La dimostrazione è molto inge-
gnosa, messieurs ; ma chi ha fatto tutto ciò? » La dot- trina
atea gli passa sopra come un’ ondata ed egli rimane al cospetto del
grande fatto: « Chi f ti ci09 > Similm Ì | fece utto ente
nella pratica: come 0 possa essere grande e trionfare i
gni.u9Maro onfare in questo mondo, egli 1 Mémoires de Mi de
Rourri. i Villemarest, Paris, chez Tadrocat, lui-meme, rédigéa par Mi
de Fauyol Fauvolot do Bonrrionna, amico d'infanzia e
segretario timo di Napoleone, — colui MA i, colui cho
formulò, d'accordo co diem nl DE Oi orrori contenuti ola COLI REA
to I ‘ourrienne et nen erreura volontaires dI RT fontraverso tuttii
viluppi, il nocciolo pra vede, de direttamente.! tione; ed a quello ten
9 2 bj pei driscalco del suo palazzo delle Tuileries gli e
tappezzerie, dimostrandogli ‘con me fossero magnifiche, e DEF
giunta @ He, mercato; Napoleone, Per tutta risposta, hiese Sa Ni
forbici, mozzò una napPInA dl oro dele o finestra, se la messe in tasca,
e tirò via. Qualche Hai : dopo, la cavò fuori al momento buono, gran È
SE rore del suo fornitore: non era Oro, ma. orpello! ; no- tevole
come anche a Sant' Elena, sempre; sino & # ultimi giorni, egli
insista sul pratico, sul reale: < A che parlare e lamentare? &
che, sopra tutto, leticare? Non ‘gi viene con ciò ad alcun risultato;
nulla si riesce, a far nulla. E se nulla potete fare; tacete! >
Parla ‘spesso così a’ suoi poveri seguaci malcontenti ; è come una
forza silenziosa tramezzo alle loro morbose querele. A E per conseguenza,
non possiamo dire che fosse in n lui pure una fede genuina, Der
quant’ era possibile? Ve- i deva in questa nuova enorme democrazia, che
s’ affer- n mava nella rivoluzione francese, un fatto che non sì può
- sopprimere, un fatto che il mondo intero, con tutte le sue
vecchie forze e le instituzioni, non può metter da parte: di ciò egli
aveva il vero intuito, e quell’ intuito trascinava seco la sua coscienza
ed il suo entusiasmo : era la sua fede. Forse che non ne interpetrò
bene l’oscura portata ? La carriòre ouverte auv talents — gli
strumenti & chi sa maneggiarli: quest’ è effettivamente la verità,
tutta la verità anzi, e comprende tutto il si- : bo dell riluzione fece 0
i a ix Ò n ‘ » al ieri i dda DE nidi pae CE cedono innanzi a
quest'uomo Dire ecm vr i rat dp degli soci dl diplomati e vugle cha
ogni ir facoltà di RIGA RARI HRolnio: egoista, prudente, psn se :
ale parvenza altrùi, uè da e sntisinne. 1a Siocniae da alcuna @ re, da
nessuna fretta. » (Emerson, loco cit, sì VI meg SaIoaaai Si ù Napoleone nel suo
primo periodo sie to “vero democratico ; nondimeno, Per sua natura,
QI ati ita mili sapeva che Ja democrazia, in quanto mai
fosse verità, non poteva essere: RIO ed odiava cordialmente P'anarchia.
T1 20 giugno 5 seduto col Bourrienne in un caflè, mentre la folla
Diso, schiamazzando, Napoleone esprime il più DIOCr, a 3 i- sprezzo
per le antorità che non reprimono que! dio dine. Il 10 agosto sì
meraviglia che nessuno prenda 1 o di que’ poveri Svizzeri : vincerebbero
Se uves: dante. Tanta fede nella democrazia, eP7 comand
sero un coman I I pure tant! odio dell’ anarchia sostengono
apoleone IM illanti campagne grande Opera. Nelle br
IO] d'Italia, via via sino alla pace di Léoben,' 81 direbbe che il
suo ideale sia questo: fatta trionfare la rivoluzione francese; affermarla
contro questi simulacri aus striaci che 0Sano dirla, un simulacro! Nondimeno,
egli sente pure; ed ha diritto di sentire, quanto neces? siria sia una
forte autorità; e come senz) essa l’opera della rivoluzione non possa
prosperare nè durare. Fre- nare quella granda rivoluzione devastatrice,
che divorava sè stessa ; domarla così, che, raggiunto il suo
intrinseco scopo, essa possa divenire organica, capace di vivere
tra gli altri organismi, tra le altre cose formate, e non sol-
tanto quale opera di devastazione, di distruzione : non mirava egliin
parte a questo come alla vera mèta della sua vita? non s'ingegnò, anzi,
effettivamente, di far IA A traverso Wagram ed Austerlitz, a
traverso Re. SOT aan Hg per osare ed operare, € s'inalzò ica
IRE re. Tutti gli uomini videro sione Cad Ro ioni soldati solevano
dire ai dala avvocati di Parigi, tutti ‘Bisogna che mettiamo là il
Pan Diga ‘andarono, e lo messe ni nostro Petit Caporal!> E S ro
là; essi, e tutta la Trancia in tutta la sua DAI massa
E poi il consolato; 1° impero; la vittoria su tutta pEuropa {.. È
abbastanza naturale che il povero luogo- ” n 9 tenente del
reggimento La Fère, potesse apparire ai pro- i ‘n erande fra quanti
nomini fossero da 56 sto punto; quel fatale elem nto di
ciarla- 0. Rinnegando la sua vel chia fede nei fatti, cOn jò
a credere nelle parvenze, brigò per imparentarsì con le dinastie
austriache, col papati, con le vecchie false feudalità, che pure un
tempo gli apparivano chiaramente false; pensò & fondare una e
così via — come se la enorme mirasse che @ dinastia
Sua rivoluzione francese non era dunque € dannato a
zogna;> è terribile, m® il vero dal falso quando v
ventosa ammenda, questa, che 1 uomo paghi per avere ceduto alla
infedeltà del cuore. La falsa ambizione ego stica era divenuta ora il suo
dio: una volta scesi sino all’inganno di sè stessi, tutti gli altri
inganni seguono naturalmente, € si cade sempre più e più basso. In
quale gretta e rappezzata miseria, in quale mascherata tea- trale
di manti di carta e d'orpello, aveva ravvolta que- st'uomO la propria
grande realtà, immaginando cor ciò di farla più reale! E quel vacuo
Concordato col papa; che pretende ristabilire il cattolicismo mentr' egli
stesso 1 riconosce ch è il metodo di estirparlo, la vaccine
religioni e quelle cerimonie d’incoronazione, quelle con- È sacrazioni
nella chiesa di Notre-Dame per mezzo della Ai. vecchia chimera italiana —
« cui nulla mancava, > come disse l’Augereau,' ca completarne la
pompa, Se non'quel mezzo milione d’uomini, morti per far finire tutto
ciò!...> + | RIA Ae di Cromwell fu con la spada e con la — ja, e
dobbiamo dirla genuinamente vera. La spada \aneria
prese Da or Francesco Auger at Drama EETUIGIO), ANA onu,
duca di Castiglione, maresciallo e pari di | ‘che fu governatore a
Berlino nel 1818, è difese Tione nel 1814 18 fruttidoro (LT9T); ©
ne ESTA. i ETTURA SES ; lui senz alcuna chi- blemi del
purttatni Aveva usato en- ; I a et pretendev® ora
difenderle! bagliò credette troppo vide nell'uomo di
-]* i ta facilità... della fame © di questa 12 Siglo ta
(Lor che edificasse sulle nubi, e: SAR ina, e di arve dal mondo?
i ni Sì ‘gua casa IN confusa rund; | i DO art in ciascuno di
noi, esiste quest SE. e potrebbe svilupparsi ove la tenti
ciarlataneria, ; fosse forte abbastanza. € on Ma il suo
sviluppo; invero; | come ingrediente riconoscibil e ie DE: Sa a di
Napoleone, & stessa piccina. Che fu dunque 1 opere SI i lpore?
Uno sprazzo come di po malgrado di tanto sca p 3 Re vere da
fucile largamente sparsa; Una fiamma t) di eriche secche. Per
un'ora, | universo intero sembra avvolto dal fumo e dalle fiamme; ma per
un' ora sol- tanto. Poi svanisce, ed ecco riapparire Vl umiverso
CON le sue vecchie montagne ed i vecchi fiumi, con le stelle
nell'alto e giù sotto il benefico suolo. Il duca di Weimar diceva
sempre agli amici di farsi animo, chè questo Napoleonismo era ingiusto,
era men- zogna, e non poteva durare. La teoria è vera. Più questo
Napoleone calpestava il mondo, tenendolo tirannicamente + oppresso,
più fiera sarebbe un giorno la reazione del mondo contro di lui. L'
ingiustizia si ripaga da sè, e con uno spaventevole interesse composto.
Non so davvero a in dina pro alt OG Dio si ha risersata jar
lui Ladino Boo oi SA TmaSoni ne PESI Lira si, Sraianol: cho vuol gio del
HIFEMENE la la mila cl 1 ila son fumi tie tnio parere non
durabile perchè LARA RE LIE ICINLI cod’ artiglieria 0 veder affogare il
suo reg- jelior pal 7 ; cite rimento migliore, anzichè
fucilare quel povero libraio {edesco palm!? Fu un'aperta ingiustizia,
una, tirannia, un assassinio, che nessun uomo, la dipinga pure con
uno strato di colore alto un dito, potrà mai far apparire
altrimenti. Questa ed altre simili ingiustizie s' impres? sero profonde
nei cuori; un fuoco represso balenava dagli occhi degli uomini quando vi
ripensavano.... aspet- tando il giorno! Ed il giorno venne: € la Germania
gli si sollevò d’ intorno. — L'opera di Napoleone sl ridurrà
a lungo andare & quanto egli compì giustamente, 2 quanto la
natura sancirà con le sue leggi, a quanto di realtà era in lui; ® tanto,
e nulla più. Il resto fu tutto fumo e sciupio. La carrière ouverte Aux
talents: questo grande messaggio di verità, che ha ancora da articolarsi
e da adempiersi dappertutto, ei lo lasciò in uno stato affatto
inarticolato. Egli fu un grande schema, un abbozzo, non mai completato:
ed invero, forse che il grand’ uomo è mai altro? Ma egli, ahimè, rimase
in uno stato tr0ppo rudimentale |... È quasi tragico il
riflettere alle sue opinioni sul mondo, quali le esprime là, a
Sant'Elena. Sembra pro- vare la più sincera meraviglia che tutto sia
andato & quel modo: ch’ egli sia stato gettato là, sulla rupe,
e "che il mondo ruoti ancora sul suo asse. La Francia. è
‘grande, anzi è sola grande; ed in fondo Napoleone è la Francia. La
stessa Inghilterra, egli dice, non è per na- ura che un'appendice della
Francia; < è per la Francia n'altra isola d’Oleron. >» Così era per
natura, per l ‘Non può comprendere, non sa concepire che la realtà
«ela confederazione del Reno veniva formandosi, la polizia scoperse al Sci
librai furono arrestati ) ono per avervi avuto parte e Napol
Sa commissiono militare. Quattro degli Roca LARE oro
provincie: due, Schiderer e Palm, condannati a mi % 4 to
Napoloone fece grazia, una il libraio Palm di Norimberga vi atura di
Napoleone. Guardate, infatti : ECCOMI QUI da i 1 Nel 1806,
mentre l’ esercito francese occupava ancora la Germania, cuni
documenti, che rivelavano i piani d'un comitato segreto d'insurre-
e LEmTURÀ de mma; che la Francia TR da ci c
jeposto al suo P o, Ji non S1a la Francia. 3 ‘n a credere ciù
andezza, © dI DI ipbia i nesta “iano, COSÌ compatta, così
ana, ì g'è involuta; s'è quasi sua N° 0 ante un
temp: e a di fanfaronnadi da tmosfer: torbida n'ai osto
& lasciarsi calpe: LS contastare come pla si tà alla Francia ed
a sè; 0A it A mire! Napoleone 7 1 costene Ma, ahimè, OF
he giov Le, ui ; e natura, anch’ ess% si dia Essendosi UNA volta
staccato 1) st e) scamp nel vuoto; è Vv ebbe per o di rado
tocco ad un uomo sorte tanto desolata: e dovette morire; povero
Napoleone !.. mento troppo presto sciupato, sino &
"& ecco il nostro ultimo eroe! A si er * * Sa
Tiltimo in un doppio significato, poichè debbono con ‘]ui
terminare queste nostre peregrinazioni a traverso ‘tempi e luoghi così
diversi, cercando, studiando gli eroi. UR ME ne rinoresce: era un piacere
per me in quest’ occu: | pazione, sebbene misto a molta pena. È un grande
s0g= 5 molto grave, molto vasto, questo che io, appunto darmi
tropp'aria di gravità, ho chiamato cult@ Esso penetra profondo nelle
secrete vie del- ‘e ne’ più vitali interessi di questo mondo; tei
ge bro ben degno di svolgimento. In sei Invece che sei giorni, avremmo
potuto far meglio. lo: chi sa se nemmeno vi sono riu- per
penetrarvi un poco, dovetti Dn DIRE Tronno spesso, con bru- uttate
là isolate, senza commento, ho ‘cortese benevolenza, non voglio ora
parlare. per saviezza e leggiadria, ha ascoltato pazient pozze
parole. Sentitamente, cordialmente, vi rendo zie, ed a tutti dico:
Dio sia con voil Precisely a century and a year after this of
Puritanism had got itself hushed-up into decent composure, and its
results made smooth, in 1688, there broke-out a far deeper explosion,
much more difficult to hush-up, known to all mortals, and like to
be long known, by the name of French Revolution. It is properly the
third and final act of Protestantism ; the explosive confused return of
mankind to Reality and Fact, now that they were perishing of Semblance
and Sham. We call our English Puri- tanism the second act : “Well then,
the Bible is true ; let ils go by the Bible 1 ” “ In Church,” said Luther
; “ In Church and State,” said Cromwell, “let us go by what
actually God’s Truth.” Men have to return to reality ; they cannot live
on semblance. The French Revolution, or third act, we may well call
the final one ; for lower than that savage Sansculottism men cannot go.
They stand there on the nakedest haggard Fact, undeniable in all seasons
and circumstances ; and may and must begin again confidently to build-up
from that. The French explosion, like the English one, got its King, —
who had no Notary parchment to show for himself. We have still to
glance for a moment at Napoleon, our second modern King.
Napoleon does by no means seem to me so great a man as Cromwell.
His enormous victories which reached over all Europe, while Cromwell
abode mainly in our little England, are but as the high stilts on which
the man is seen standing ; the stature of the man is not altered thereby.
I find in him no such sincerity as in Cromwell ; only a far inferior
sort. No silent walking, through long years, with the Awful
Unnamable of this Universe; ‘walking with God," as he called it;
and faith and strength in that alone : latent thought and valour,
content to lie latent, then burst out as in blaze of Heaven’s /lightning
1 Napoleon lived in an age when God was no longer believed ; the meaning
of all Silence, Latency, was thought to 'be Nonentity : he had to begin
not out of the Puritan Bible, but out of poor Sceptical EncyclopMies,
This was the length the man carried it. Meritorious to get so far. His
compact, prompt, everyway articulate character is in itself perhaps
small, compared with our great chaotic /^articulate Cromwell’s. In-
stead of 'dumb Prophet struggling to speak,' we have a por- tentous
mixture of the Quack withal I Hume’s notion of the Fanatic-Hypocrite, with
such truth as it has, will apply much better to Napoleon than it did to
Cromwell, to Mahomet or the like, — where indeed taken strictly it has
hardly any truth at all. An element of blamable ambition shows itself,
from the first, in this man ; gets the victory over him at last, and
in- volves him and his work in ruin. * False as a bulletin’
became a proverb in Napoleon’s time. He makes what excuse he could for it
: that it was necessary to mislead the enemy, to keep-up his own men’s
courage, and so forth. On the whole, there are no excuses. A man in
no case has liberty to tell lies. It had been, in the long-run,
better for Napoleon too if he had not told any. In fact, if a man
have any purpose reaching beyond the hour and day, meant to be found
extant next day, what good can it ever be to promul- gate lies ? The lies
are found-out ; ruinous penalty is exacted for them. No man will believe
the liar next time even when he speaks truth, when it is of the last
importance that he be believed. The old cry of wolf 1 — K Lie is nMhing ;
you can- not of nothing make something ; you make nothing at last,
and lose your labour into the bargain. Yet Napoleon had a
sincerity; we are to distinguish be- tween what is superficial and what
is fundamental in insin- cerity. Across these outer manceuverings and
quackeries of his, which were many and most bian>able, let us discern
withal that the man had a certain instinctive ineradicable feeling
for reality ; and did base himself upon fact, so long as he had any
basis. He has an instinct of Nature better than his culture was. His
savans, Bourrienne tells us, in that voyage to Egypt were one evening
busily occupied arguing that there could be no God. They had proved it,
to their satisfaction, by all man- ner of logic. Napoleon looking up into
the stars, answers, “Very ingenious. Messieurs ; but who made all that?”
The Atheistic logic runs-off from him like water ; the great Fact
stares him in the face : “ Who made all that ?” So too in Practice : he,
as every man that can be great, or have victory in this world, sees,
through all entanglements, the practical heart of the matter ; drives
straight towards that. “N^en the steward of his Tuileries Palace was
exhibiting the new uphol- stery, with praises, and demonstration how
glorious it was, and how cheap withal, Napoleon, making little answer,
asked for a pair of scissors, dipt one of the gold tassels from a window-
curtain, put it in his pocket, and walked on. Some days after- wards, he
produced it at the right moment, to the horror of his upholstery
functionary ; it was not gold but tinsel I In Saint Helena, it is notable
how he still, to his last days, insists on the practical, the real. Why
talk and complain ; above all, why quarrel with one another ? There is no
result in it ; it comes to nothing that one can do. Say nothing, if one
can do no- thing I” He speaks often so, to his poor discontented follow-
ers ; he is like a piece of silent strength in the middle of their morbid
querulousness there. And accordingly was there not what we can call
a faith in him, genuine so far as it went ? That this new enormous
De- mocracy asserting itself here in the French Revolution is an
insuppressible Fact, which the whole world, with its old forces and
institutions, cannot put down ; this was a true insight of his, and took
his conscience and enthusiasm along with it, — a faith. And did he not
interpret the dim purport of it well ? * La carriers ouverte aux
ialens^ The implements to him who “ran handle them ;* this actually is
the truth, and even the whole truth ; it includes whatever the French
Revolution, or any Re- volution, could mean. Napoleon, in his first
period, was a true Democrat. And yet by the nature of him, fostered too
by his military trade, he knew that Democracy, if it were a true
thing at all, could not be an anarchy : the man had a heart-hatred
for anarchy. On that Twentieth of June (1792), Bourrienne and he sat in a
coffee-house, as the mob rolled by : Napoleon expresses the deepest
contempt for persons in authority that they do not restrain this rabble.
On the Tenth of August he wonders why there is no man to command these
poor Swiss ; they would conquer if there were. Such a faith in
Democracy, yet hatred of anarchy, it is that carries Napoleon
through all his great work. Through his brilliant Italian
Campaigns, onwards to the Peace of Leoben, one would say, his
inspir- ation is ; ‘ Triumph to the French Revolution ; assertion
of * it against these Austrian Simulacra that pretend to call
it ‘ a Simulacrum 1’ Withal, however, he feels, and has a right to
feel, how necessary a strong Authority is ; how the Revolution cannot prosper
or last without such. To bridleMn that great devouring, self-devouring
French Revolution ; to tameit, so that its intrinsic purpose can be made
good, that it may be- come organic, and be able to live among other
organisms and formed things, not as a wasting destruction alone : is not
this still what he partly aimed at, as the true purport of his life
; nay what he actually managed to do ? Through Wagrams,
Austerlitzes ; triumph after triumph, — he triumphed so far. There was an
eye to see in this man, a soul to dare and do. He rose naturally to be
the King. All men saw that he was such. The common soldiers used to say
on the march : “ These babbling Avocats, up at Paris ; all talk and no
work ! What wonder it runs all wrong ? We shall have to go and put
our Petit Caporal there I” They went, and put him there ; they and
France at large. Chief-consulship, Emperorship, victory over Europe ; —
till the poor Lieutenant of La Fire, not unna- turally, might seem to
himself the greatest of all men that had been in the world for some
ages. But at this point, I think, the fatal charlatan-element
got the upper hand. He apostatised from his old faith in Facts,
took to believing in Semblances ; strove to connect himself with Austrian
Dynasties, Popedoms, with the old false Feud- alities which he once saw
clearly to be false ; — considered that he would found “ his Dynasty” and
so forth ; that the enormous French Revolution meant only that ! The man
was ‘given-up ^ to strong delusion, that he should believe a lie a
fearful but j most sure thing. did not knowJrue from false
no\y.wheiLj he looked at them, — the fearfulest penalty a man pays for
yielding . to untruth of heart. Self and false ambition had now become
^ his god : j^^deception once yielded to, all other deceptions
follow naturally more and more. What a paltry patchwork of theatrical
paper-mantles, tinsel and mummery, had this man wrapt his own great
reality in, thinking to make it more real thereby ! His hollow
^-Concordat, pretending to be a re- establishment of Catholicism, felt by
himself to be the method of extirpating it, ^fa vaccine de la religion
his ceremonial Coronations, consecrations by the old Italian Chimera in
Notre- Dame, — “wanting nothing to complete the pomp of it,” as
Augereau said, “nothing but the half-million of men who had died to put an
end to all that” ! Cromwell’s Inauguration was by the Sword and Bible ;
what we must call a genuinely one. Sword and Bible were borne before him,
without any chi- mera : were not these the’’ r^a/ emblems of Puritanism ;
its true decoration and insignia ? It had used them both in a very
real manner, and pretended to stand by them now 1 But this poor Napoleon
mistook : he believed too much in the Dup^~ ability of men ; saw no fact
deeper in man than Hunger and this 1 He was mistaken. Like a man that
should build upon cloud ; his house and he fall down in confused wreck,
and de- part out of the world. Alas, in all of us this
charlatan-element exists ; and might be developed, were the temptation
strong enough. ‘ Lead us not into temptation’ I But it is fatal, I say,
that it be developed. The thing into which it enters as a cognisable
ingredient is doomed to be altogether transitory; and, however huge it
may look, is in itself small. Napoleon’s working, accordingly, what
was it with all the noise it made ? A flash as of gunpowder wide-spread ;
a blazing-up as of dry heath. For an hour the whole Universe seems wrapt
in smoke and flame ; but only ^for an hour. It goes out : the Universe
with its old mountains and streams, its stars above and kind soil
beneath, is still there. The Duke of Weimar told his friends
always, To be of courage ; this Napoleonism was unjust^ a falsehood, and
could not last. It is true dqctrine. The heavier this Napoleon
tram- pled on the world, holding it tyrannously down, the fiercer
would the world’s recoil against him be, one day. Injustice pays
jt- self with frightful compound-interest. I am not sure but he had
better have lost his best park of artillery, or had his best regiment
drowned in the sea, than shot that poor German Bookseller, Palm I It was
a palpable tyrannous murderous injustice, which no man, let him paint an
inch thick, could make-out to be other. It burnt deep into the hearts of
men, it and the like of it ; suppressed fire flashed in the eyes of
men, as they thought of it, — ^waiting their day 1 Which day came :
Germany rose round him. — ^What Napoleon did will in the long-run amount
to what he did justly j what Nature with her laws will sanction. To what
of reality was in him; to that and nothing more. The rest was all smoke
and waste. La carri^re ouverte aux talens : that great true Message,
which has yet to articulate and fulfil itself everywhere, he left in
a most inarticulate state. He was a great Sbatiche, a rude- draught
never completed ; as indeed what great man is other ? Left in too rude a
state, alas 1 His notions of the world, as he expresses them there
at St. Helena, are almost tragical to consider. He seems to feel
the most unaffected surprise that it has all gone so ; that he is
flung-out on the rock here, and the World is still moving on its axis.
France is great, and all-great ; and at bottom, he is France. England
itself, he says, is by Nature only an ap- pendage of France ; “another
Isle of Oleron to France.” So it was by Nature, by Napoleon-Nature ; and
yet look how in fact — Here am I I He cannot understand it :
inconceivable that the reality has not corresponded to his program of it
; that France was not all-great, that he was not France. ‘Strong
delusion,’ that he should believe the thing to be which is not I The
compact, clear- seeing, decisive Italian nature of him, strong, genuine,
which he once had, has enveloped itself, half- dissolved itself, in a
turbid atmosphere of French fanfaronade. The world was not disposed to be
trodden-down underfoot ; to be bound into masses, and built together, as
he liked, for a pedestal to France and him : the world had quite other
pur- poses in view! Napoleon's astonishment is extreme. But alas,
what help now ? He had gone that way of his ; and Nature also had gone
her way. Having once parted with Reality, he tumbles helpless in Vacuity;
no rescue for him. He had to sink there, mournfully as man seldom did ;
and break his great heart, and die, — this poor Napoleon ; a great
implement too soon wasted, till it was useless : our last Great Man
I Our last, in a double sense. For here finally these wide
roamings of ours through so many times and places, in search and study of
Heroes, are to terminate. I am sorry for it: there was pleasure for me in
this business, if also much pain. It is a great subject, and a most grave
and wide one, this which, not to be too grave about it, I have named
He?'o-worship. It enters deeply, as I think, into the secret of Mankind’s
ways and vitalest interests in this world, and is well worth explaining
at present. With six months, instead of six days, we might have done
better. I promised to break-ground on it ; I know not whether I have even
managed to do that. I have had to tear it up in the rudest manner in
order to get into it at all. Often enough, with these abrupt utterances
thrown-out iso- lated, unexplained, has your tolerance been put to the
trial. Tolerance, patient candour, all-hoping favour and kindness,
which I will not speak of at present. The accomplished and distinguished,
the beautiful, the wise, something of what is best in England, have listened
patiently to my rude words. With many feelings, I heartily thank you all
; and say, Good be with you all ! Domenico Cardone. Domenico Antonio
Cardone. Keywords: Clark Kent; ovvero, sul sovrumano, “Ricerche filosofiche”; futilitarianism,
inutilitarianism, Grice, “The philosophy of life,” Grice, “Philosophy of life”,
essere e divenire – il sovraumano, Nietzsche, Bergson, D’Annunzio, sobra-uomo,
super-uomo. Jesus as a philosopher! Tommaso Carlyle, Il culto degl’eroi –
culto, worth-ship, valore, Napoleone, natura italiana -- -- Refs.: Luigi
Speranza, “Grice e Cardone” – The Swimming-Pool Library. Cardone.
Grice e Carifi: l’implicatura
conversazionale dell’ablativi relativi – Roman implicata -- filosofia italiana
– Luigi Speranza (Pistoia). Filosofo italiano. Grice: “I
would call Carifi a poet rather than a philosopher! He did indeed philosophise
‘in difesa della filosofia,’ but that
should read of ‘his’ ‘filosofia,’ which he sees as an elaboration on
death! My favourite are his ‘lezioni’ di filosofia and his ‘ablativo assoluto,’
something English lacks, but ‘deo volente’ doesn’t!” -- Studia sotto Bigongiari, tra i maggiori
esponenti dell'ermetismo fiorentino, profondamente influenzato dalle voci liriche
di Rilke e Trakl, su cui si è esercitato anche come traduttore, oltre a essere
poeta, svolge l'attività di critico letterario e filosofico. Autore de “Il
segreto”. Al fianco degli studi filosofici, vi sono quelli di psicoanalisi a
Milano. Mentre nelle liriche si risente la dizione rilkiana e emerge il debito
verso Heidegger, nei componimenti successivi questi motivi vengono amalgamati a
nuove istanze della sensibilità. In particolare dopo la dura prova della
malattia, l'incidente, come lui chiama l'ictus da cui è stato colpito, i suoi
versi abbracciano una nuova forma di rarefazione dissolvente in cui l'essere,
attraversato dal dolore, cerca una via estrema di comunicazione per
ricongiungersi al mondo. Luoghi e figure dell'anima. Due sono i temi che
incardinano la sua poetica: la madre e il legame con la città natale, Pistoia,
che di quel rapporto affettivo è l'emanazione, entrambi raccolti
filosoficamente nel rimando all'infanzia, epoca originaria dei sensi, periodo
d'elezione per l'anima ma anche ingrato, di cui si fatica a cogliere l'essenza
se non a patto di una discesa spossante. Ora è l'attimo che attende, è
l'istante che prepara i tempi a un altro istante dove si deve attendere
l'infanzia, quella bastarda che era là, tragico volto dei bambini. La madre,
dolorosa musa, abbandonata dal marito quando il bambino aveva appena tre anni,
ha lungamente accompagnato e sorretto la voce del figlio. La sua scomparsa è
una perdita incolmabile nella vita e nel suo immaginario. La città rappresenta
un caldo grembo, dove tutto rimanda a quel legame dissolto ma anche alle tante
amicizie e perfino a quegli spiriti gentili di artisti e letterati che
continuano ad aggirarsi, figure di sogno, nelle strette strade del centro. Bigongiari
era di Pistoia. Era figlio del capostazione e abitava in Via del Vento, accanto
a Manzini. Nei miei viaggi onirici li vedo tutti e due, Bigongiari e Manzini,
camminare tra Via del Vento e Via Verdi, in silenzio perché parlano una lingua
muta, una lingua del deserto che solo i poeti e i mistici capiscono. Nei suoi
versi rivive di continuo la devozione spirituale per il luogo, la cui essenza
poetica sta nell'intreccio di memorie che lo abitano, un passato con cui si
misura in uno stato di incerta beatitudine tra sogno e veglia. Nasco
filosofo con una grande tensione verso la poesia. Una tensione, la mia, che si
è poi sviluppata fino a rendermi filosofo, ma soprattutto poeta. La filosofia
arriva fino ad un certo punto, da quel punto in poi c’è la poesia. La poesia
parla del cielo, delle foreste degli uomini, fa un salto verso la verità.
Abbandona il linguaggio su cui, bene o male, la filosofia regge e sceglie
un linguaggio pre-sentativo'', il linguaggio della presenza. La sua
ricerca è la risposta alle varie vicende dell’uomo. L’uomo colma e coglie sé
stesso attraverso il percorso del lume, l’apertura alla conoscenza. L’uomo mite
che miete la luce, capace di cuore della verità, che non rinuncia al pensiero
della responsabilità e della parola, è l’uomo C.. Non bisogna accostarsi a lui
con il timore di leggere un incomprensibile tomo di filosofia analitica alla
teoria dell’implicatura di Grice, sia pur condividendo con lui che non esistono
concetti semplici, né concetti già pronti, perché la filosofia analitica di
Grice è, Grice morto, in divenire, è in movimento. Un sottile ma preciso filo
conduttore che caratterizza la raccolta delle sue lunghe e silenziose
riflessioni è la pratica dell’intensità, destini che si rivelano fino in fondo.
Esercita il bello della profondità portandola, a tutti, sul piano conoscitivo
della conversazione. Le sue opere sono cammini culturali e spirituali dove
l’uomo ed il valore sono all’unisono un giro concentrico di piaceri. La
conversazione è un abisso che, in un’intima solidarietà, unisce il moto
interiore all’estetica dell’espressione, e la conversazione diviene il veicolo
principale dove il silenzio meditativo e contemplativo si colora di una
dimensione inter-oggettiva. La conoscenza dell'altro.L'uomo del pensiero:
Roberto Edizione Polistampa, Firenze. Poesia e filosofia convivono e si
alternano nella sua vasta produzione, tra i maggiori autori contemporanei. E
conosciuto per i testi filosofici e per l’intensa attività poetica,
influenzata, a partire dagli anni Ottanta, dall’amicizia con Bigongiari; ma
anche per le traduzioni in italiano di Hesse, Rousseau, Racine, Bataille, Trakl
e Weil. La poesia è una stretta di mano su «Naturart», rivista di cultura, Giorgio
Tesi Editrice» Scopre il dolore con la perdita della madre che diventa la
sua ossessione poetica, descritta come un pozzo in cui scendere. Le sue due
antologie poetiche (Infanzia; Nel ferro dei balocchi), pur seguendo percorsi
diversi, si ergono entrambe su due abissi: l'infanzia personale, ma al contempo
quella di intere generazioni europee, segnate da un legame indissolubile.
Archivio Festival Letteratura, Palazzo Ducale, Mantova. È una poesia in cui la
forte componente autobiografica trasfigura il vissuto, in quanto ciò che si
racconta assume valore paradigmatico: situazioni ed episodi emblematici in cui
l’uomo incontra l’assoluto. Incontro su «VIinforma», rivista culturale della
Banca di credito coooperativo di S. Pietro in Vincio» «La raccolta Madre,
proprio perché torna su un tema già fortemente praticato, consente di guardare
al complessivo percorso poetico di Carifi potendo distinguere in esso un
momento di passaggio e di mutamento, determinato prima dall’avvicinamento al
buddismo, poi dalla malattia. Giuseppe Grattacaso, Supplica alla madre su
«Succedeoggi» Cultura nell’informazione quotidiana» Opere Raccolte
poetiche Simulacri (Forum/Quinta Generazione, Forlì); Infanzia (Società di
Poesia, Milano, rist. Raffaelli, Rimini ); L'obbedienza (Crocetti, Milano);
Occidente (Crocetti, Milano); Amore e destino (Crocetti, Milano); Poesie (I
Quaderni del Battello Ebbro, Porretta Terme); Casa nell'ombra (Almanacco
Mondadori, Milano); Il Figlio (Jaca Book, Milano); Amore d'autunno (Guanda,
Parma-Milano); Europa (Jaca Book, Milano); Il gelo e la luce (Le Lettere,
Firenze); La pietà e la memoria (Edizioni ETS, Pisa); D'improvviso e altre
poesie scelte (Via del Vento edizioni); Nel ferro dei balocchi (Crocetti,
Milano 2008); Tibet (Le Lettere, Firenze ); Madre (Le Lettere, Firenze); Il
Segreto (Le Lettere, Firenze ); Racconti Victor e la bestia (Via del Vento
edizioni, Pistoia); Lettera sugli angeli e altri racconti (Via del Vento
edizioni, Pistoia); Destini (Libreria dell'Orso editrice, Pistoia); Saggi Il
gesto di Callicle (Società di Poesia, Milano); Il segreto e il dono (EGEA,
Milano); Le parole del pensiero (Le Lettere, Firenze); Il male e la luce (I Quaderni
del Battello Ebbro, Porretta Terme); L'essere e l'abbandono (Il Ramo d'Oro,
Firenze); Nomi del Novecento (Le Lettere, Firenze); Nome di donna (Raffaelli,
Rimini ). Rilke, L'angelo e altre poesie, Via del Vento edizioni, 2008; Georg
Trakl, La notte e altre poesie, traduzione di Massimo Baldi e Roberto Carifi,
Postfazione di Roberto Carifi, Via del Vento edizioni. Tiene la rubrica mensile
"Per competenza" sulla rivista «Poesia». Per ulteriori notizie si
veda la sezione dedicata ai cenni biografici del poeta nel volume Roberto
Carifi, D'improvviso e altre poesie scelte, Via del Vento edizioni, Da Roberto
Carifi, Tibet, Le Lettere,. Da Pistoia
in parole. Passeggiate con gli scrittori in città e dintorni, Alba Andreini,
introduzione di Roberto Carifi, Edizioni ETS,.
M. Baudino, Nel mitico mondo di Carifi, «Gazzetta del Popolo»; C.
Viviani, Il mito e il nuovo inquilino, «Il Giorno», F. Ermini, Il mito per
relazionarsi al reale, «Il quotidiano dei lavoratori», G. Giudici, Il gesto di
Callicle, «L'Espresso»; A. Porta, Il gesto di Callicle, «Alfabeta», M.
Spinella, La microfisica del significante poetico, «Rinascita», nQui sento odor
di buoni versi, «Il Messaggero»; Infanzia, «Il piccolo Hans», Al fuoco di un
altro amore, Jaca Book, L'anima e la forma nel verso. «Avvenire»; P.F.Iacuzzi,
Il paradosso della poesia italiana. «Paradigma»; Utopisti e menestrelli,
«L'indice», R. Nostalgia del tragico, «Corriere del Ticino»; I Quaderni del Battello
Ebbro. Basso continuo del rumore bellico per litanie epiche sull'occidente, «Il
Manifesto». Il filo del tramonto e del rimpianto, «Il Giornale», La poesia, il
luogo del ritorno a casa, «La Nazione», La lingua continua a battere dove la
carità duole, «Il Mattino», Il buio mondo che ci avvolge, «Il Sole 24
ore», Il lato oscuro delle cose, «La Repubblica»; Sul vuoto appesi alla parola, «La Nazione», Amore
senza tempo, «Il Sole 24 ore»,; E per musa ispiratrice la nostalgia,
«Avvenire», Classici pensosi versi,
«Gazzetta di Parma», Amore per una donna e per il nulla, «Il Giorno», Gli amori
di Carifi, «La Nazione»; B. Manetti, Carifi il poeta errante, «La Repubblica»;
D. Attanasio, Amore e morte trascendenti segreti, «Il Manifesto», R. Copioli,
Carifi: il desiderio è mitico, «Avvenire», 14 maggio 1994; E. Grasso, L'amore
quando il lume si spegne, «L'Unità»; A. Donati, Intervista a Roberto Carifi,
«Il Giorno», Doni al confine del tempo, «Il Sole 24 ore»; L'angelo poetico
della solitudine, «Il Giorno», R. Figli innamorati del proprio destino,
«Avvenire»; Il male come provocazione estetica – estetica del male -- Chiaroscuro
con lampada e scialle, «Il Sole 24 ore»; Chi son? Sono un poeta, «Il Giornale»;
Il dolore nelle sillabe, «La Gazzetta di Parma»; Un angelo in esilio, «Avvenimenti»;
U. Piersanti, Il figlio, «Tutto Libri»; Bigongiari, Carifi: parole e voce di
Figlio, «La Nazione»; Quel contratto da verificare, «Il Sole 24 ore», Angeli
sospesi tra essere e abbandono, «Avvenire», Un neoromantico invoca il cuore, i
sogni, l'addio, «Tutto Libri», Amore
d'autunno, «L'Espresso», Morte di madre. Quando la poesia "riversa la
vita", «Il Giornale», L’elegia di uno stile semplice, «Avvenire»; Quei
legami vitali tra figlio e madre, «La Nazione»; Tra infelicità e silenzio, «Il
Sole 24 ore»; Un dolcissimo amore d'autunno, «Il Giornale», L'estetica
dell'amore, «Il Tirreno», Dalla parte del cuore, «Gazzetta di Parma»; E. Coco, Rivista
de Literatura. Un dialogo a distanza sull'alterità del figlio, introduzione a C.
e U. Buscioni, Figure dell'abbandono, maschiettoemusolino, Siena; Il pathos del
sublime: la poesia di Carifi, «Atelier», D. Fiesoli, Europa, «Il Tirreno», B.
Garavelli, Addio alla madre, «Avvenire», G. Colotti, Europa, «Il Manifesto»; La religiosa tragicità di Carifi, «Poesia»; F.
A. Scorrano, La conoscenza dell'altro. L'uomo del pensiero. Edizione
Polistampa, Firenze, S. Ramat, Roberto Carifi nel nome della madre, «Il
Giornale», Per la sezione bibliografica
questa voce trae informazioni dalla
inglese. Piero Bigongiari
Gianna Manzini Pistoia Via del Vento edizioni //poesia.blog.rainews//09/blog
Poesia Rai News L'UOMO DEL PENSIERO. Saggio sulla poesia di Carifi Tre poesie
su «Sagarana», su sagarana.net. Una recensione di Infanzia, su
margininversi.blogspot. Roberto Carifi. Il sisma silenzioso del cuore articolo
di Andrea Galgano su «Clandestino». Grice: “One impotant thing to consider is
the passive voice of the future perfect – TEMPVS PLVSQVAMPERFECTVS PRAETERITVM
– there was a specific form, ‘dedidi’ i. e. an inflected form, only in the
passive voice. However, no record was found of the passive voice, except by use
of what I call an ‘auxiliary’ verb – ‘have’ – cf. my notes on ‘do’ – ‘do’ and
‘have’ as auxiliary. However, the Romans found a way: the ablativo assoluto –
the house given, she proceeded to furnish it. Money having been given to the
merchant, the buyer left – Admirably, as Aelfric noted, in Latin, the
pluperfect, strictly tempus praeterium plusquamperfectum, is formed without an
auxiliary verb . MODUS INDICATIVUS/SUBJUNCTIVUS. Pecuniam mercatori DEDERAT.
Pecunimam mercatori DEDISSET – Ha had given money to the merchart. He should
have given money to the merchant. The Roman even had a choice of the ablative
absolute hrase, consisting of the noun and the perfect participle in the
ablative case. Pecuniis mercatori datis cessit emptor , Money having been given
to the merchant, the buyer left. pecuniis mercatori non datis non cessit
emptor. Money not having been given to the merchant, the merchant killed one of
the buyer’s slaves. The difference is merely implicatural. In the verbal form
(dederat, dedisset) is is explicated that it was the buyer who paid. In the
absolute-ablative case, it is merely implicated. For all the utterer cares, it
could have been the buyer’s slave. Cicero refers to an use of the RELATIVE
ablative which is even ‘more slippery’ and thus optimal for cross examination.
Money Carifi. Keywords: ablativi
relative, filosofia e poesia – l’implicatura del poeta – l’implicatura di Blake
– l’implicatura di Guglielmo Blake – rhyme or reason – the invention of rhyme –
l’invenzione della rima – empedocle: ragione senza rima -- Heidegger,
conversation, language, silence, being, inter-subjectivity. Refs.: Luigi
Speranza, “Grice e Carifi” – The Swimming-Pool Library. Carifi.
Grice e Carle – le radici del
diritto romano – la legge romana – la natura romana -- filosofia italiana –
Luigi Speranza -- (Chiusa di Pesio). Filosofo italiano. Grice: “I like
Carle – he is like Hart, only better – his Latin tract on ‘exceptio’ is
eaxactly what Hart means by defeasibility, only that Carle can found it on
Roman law – Like me, he likes the use of ‘principio,’ as when he speaks of a
‘principle of responsibility,’ and his essays on what he calls ‘social
philosophy’ is pretty akin to my concerns on cooperation as the epitome of
joint behaviour.” Insegna a Torino. Linceo. Esponente del positivismo. La dottrina giuridica del fallimento nel
diritto privato internazionale, Napoli, Stamperia della Regia Università); Prospetto
d'un insegnamento di filosofia del diritto. Parte generale, Torino, F.lli
Bocca); “La vita del diritto nei suoi rapporti colla vita sociale. Studio
comparativo di filosofia giuridica” (Torino, F.lli Bocca); “Le origini del
diritto romano: ricostruzione storica dei concetti che stanno a base del diritto
pubblico e privato di Roma” (Torino, F.lli Bocca); La filosofia del diritto
nello stato moderno, Torino, Unione Tipografico-Editrice); Lezioni di filosofia
del diritto” (Torino). Dizionario biografico degli italiani. Positivismo: ius – fatto – non valore – l’implicatura
di Romolo e Remo. Naturalism – giusnaturalismo – forza – autorita – ius – “LE
ORIGNI DEL DIRITTO ROMANO” -- RICOSTRUZIONE STORICA DEI CONCETTI CHE STANNO A
BASE DEL DIRITTO PUBBLICO E PRIVATO DI ROMA. Fuit haec sapientia quondam
Publica privatis secernere, sacra profanis. HOR., poet Ars. LABOR NOR TORINO
FRATELLI BOCCA EDITORI LIBRAI DI S. M. IL RE D'ITALIA SUOQURSALI ROMA FIRENZE
Via del Corso. Via Cerretapi. DEPOSITI PALERMO NAPOLI CATANIA Università, Piazza
Plebiscito, 2 S. Maria al Ros.°, 23 (Carosio ) Carosio )TORINO BONA. La nobile
Università di Bologna, commemorando in questi giorni l'ottavo centenario dalla
sua fondazione, ci rammenta anche l'epoca, in cui essa iniziando gli studi sul
diritto romano si rese benemerita di tutto il mondo civile. Agli omaggi, che in
questa occasione solenne convengono costi d'ogni paese, mi sia consentito di
aggiungere quello di un'opera ispirata al desiderio di mantenere viva nella
gioventù studiosa italiana la tradizione civile e politica di Roma. Di Lei
Rettore Magnifico bord Torino, Devot.mo ed obblimo. Ritornato di proposito allo
studio del diritto romano, in seguito all'incarico affidatomi di insegnarne la
storia nella R.Università di Torino, parvemi di rileggere uno di quei libri, la
cui meditazione può riempiere tutta una vita, perché ad ogni lettura e ad ogni
età offrono campo ad osservazioni, che prima sono sfuggite. Quegli studii di
giurisprudenza comparata, che in questi ultimi anni si vennero facendo sulle
istituzioni primitive di quel periodo gentilizio, nel quale debbono essere
cercate le fondamenta, sovra cui furono poscia edificate le città, mi parvero
irradiare di nuova luce l'antichissimo diritto di Roma, e aprire nuove vie per
spiegare il processo, con cui ebbe ad essere iniziata la formazione del
medesimo. È strano infatti che, mentre il diritto romano, fra le grandi
elaborazioni del genere umano, è certamente quella, che ebbe ad essere
maggiormente studiata nei frammenti che a noi ne pervennero e nei suoi ultimi
risultati, continui pur sempre ad essere un grande mistero il processo, con cui
i romani giunsero ad elevare un cosi grande edifizio, e il motivo per cui essi
e non altri riuscirono ad innalzarlo. La causa tuttavia di questa singolarità
deve essere riposta in ciò, che per risolvere il problema delle origini del
diritto romano non può bastare lo studio staccato dei frammenti, nė
l'esegesi applicata ai testi, ma conviene ricomporre le epoche, raccogliere i
rottami che ci pervennero di esse, colmarne le la cune, riportarsi col pensiero
alle condizioni economiche e sociali del primitivo popolo romano, sforzarsi di
rivivere in quel tempo e di pensare in certo modo alla romana, tener conto
delle particolari attitudini dell'ingegno romano, far procedere di pari passo
la formazione della città e lo svolgimento delle sue istituzioni pubbliche e
private. Conviene insomma ricostruire la vita del diritto nei suoi rapporti
colla vita sociale di Roma, e cercare cosi di decifrare la pagina più splendida
della vita del diritto nella storia dell'umanità. Certo era naturale cosa, che
uno studioso della vita del diritto nei suoi rapporti colla vita sociale mal
sapesse resistere alle attrattive di un simile argomento, credendo con ciò, non
di venir meno,madi perseverare in quel l'ordine di studii, a cui si è dedicato
con tutte le forze. Miproposi pertanto di ricostruire il processo logico e
storico, che governa la formazione deldiritto romano, sopratutto nei suoi
esordii, non coll'intento di sostituirmi ai dottissimi nella materia, ma con
quello più modesto di valermi dei materiali che furono raccolti con tanta
diligenza, sopratutto in Germania. Mi accinsi poi all'arduo compito con un
entusiasmo, che forse più non conviene alla mia età, ma che ebbe il vantaggio
di rendermi aggradevole la lunga fatica, e che vorrei trasfondere nella
gioventù studiosa, unitamente alla convinzione profonda, che le grandi elaborazioni
dell'ingegno umano, mentre cambiarono in maestri dell'umanità coloro, che
giunsero a crearle, hanno anche il pregio di confortare ed elevare il pensiero
di coloro, che si travagliano per comprendere il processo natu rale, che ne
governd la formazione. Debbo tuttavia una confessione al lettore benevolo: ed è
che il presente saggio, cominciato forse coll’idea, non preconcetta, ma
latente, che il diritto pubblico e privato di Roma fosse il frutto di una
evoluzione determinata dalle condizioni esteriori, in cui si trova il popolo
romano, riusci invece a conclusioni alquanto diverse. I romani, cosi nel
formare la propria città, come nell’elaborare le proprie istituzioni pubbliche
e private, seguirono un processo, che chiamo di selezione. Anziché essere
dominati dai fatti esteriori, cercarono invece di dominarli, e di sottometterli
alla logica inesorabile del proprio diritto. Come le mura della loro città sono
costruite coi massi più solidi delle costruzioni gentilizie, cosi i concetti,
che stanno a base del loro diritto pubblico e privato, sono trascelti nel seno
stesso della organizzazione gentilizia. Ma trapiantati nella città ed isolati
cosi dall'ambiente, in cui si erano formati, si cambiarono in altrettante
concezioni logiche, che si vennero poi svolgendo ed accomodando alle esigenze della
vita civile e politica. Anche questo e un processo naturale. Ma non è più il
processo, che governa la formazione degli strati geologici, che si
sovrappongono gli uni agli altri e serbano l'impronta dei bassi fondi sovra cui
si vengono precipitando, bensi il processo, che governa la formazione dei
cristalli, per cui gli elementi affini, depurati da ogni scoria, si vengono,
per dir cosi, ricercando ed attraendo e si dispongono costantemente secondo
quelle forme tipiche, che ne governano la formazione. Di quiconseguita, che il diritto
romano non èu na produzione determinata esclusivamente dall'ambiente e dalle
condizioni esteriori. Ma è già l'opera in parte consapevole dello spirito vivo
ed operoso di un popolo, il quale, valendosi di attitudini naturali, che in
questa parte si possono chiamare veramente meravigliose, riusci a secernere e
ad isolare l'essenza giuridica dei fatti sociali ed umani, a modellarla in
concetti tipici, a svolgere i medesimi in tutte le conseguenze, di cui po
tevano essere capaci, e a trasmettere cosi alle nazioni moderne un
capolavoro di arte giuridica. Questo è il risultato ultimo, a cui sono
pervenuto. Per la prova del medesimo invito gli imparziali amici del vero
a leggere il saggio, nel quale, malgrado la varietà immensa dei particolari,
cerca di riprodurre quella coerenza organica, che è la caratteristica dello
svolgimento storico delle istituzioni pubbliche e private di Roma. Le
tradizioni e le leggende da cui appare circondata la fondazione di Roma presentano
a primo aspetto un carattere singolare di contraddizione. Da una parte, Roma ha
infanzia. E fondata di pianta da un avventuriero di origine latina e di stirpe
regia, condottiero di una banda armata, il quale, dopo aver circondata la città
di mura, avrebbe aperto un asilo agl’esuli e ai rifugiati dalle dalle comunanze
vicine. E il fondatore stesso che da a Roma le sue istituzioni pubbliche e
private. Il suo successore le da l'organizzazione del culto, finchè da ultimo
Roma già ingrandita, mediante l'incorporazione di popoli e di genti diverse,
avrebbe ricevuto una nuova organizzazione civile, politica e militare per opera
di Servio Tullio, che si sarebbe così meritato il nome di secondo fondatore
della città. Per tal modo, la forza dapprima, poi la religione -- e da
ultimo la sapienza civile hanno posto, le fondamenta della città, e le sue
istituzioni civili e politiche appariscono come una creazione personale dei re,
fra i quali la tradizione avrebbe perfino distribuito il compito. Il suo
fondatore è latino, mentre invece è sabino l'organizzatore del culto, e da
ultimo è probabilmente di origine etrusca quegli, che ne ha riformato
compiutamente l'organizzazione civile e politica e ha stabilito quelle
istituzioni, che riceveranno poi il proprio svolgimento durante l'epoca
repubblicana. Da un altro lato, invece, la stessa tradizione circonda la
fondazione di Roma di cerimonie religiose, di carattere tradizionale, che supponneno
una religione già compiutamente formata, e fa apparire Roma nella storia con un
nucleo di istituzioni pubbliche e private, che dove poi svolgersi con un rigore
pressochè geometrico, ma che intanto suppongono una lunga elaborazione
anteriore. Di fronte a questa apparente contraddizione, il maggior problema,
che si presenta al filosofo e quello di sostituire alla storia leggendaria
delle origini di Roma una storia viva ed organica di essa, ricercando le
origini delle istituzioni primitive con cui essa appare nella storia. In questa
ricostruzione, la filosofia dapprima si scosto per modo dalle tradizioni a noi
pervenute da scorgere in queste poco più di una serie di leggende. Ma dovette
poi riaccostarsi alle medesime, e finisce per giungere a questo risultato, che
le istituzioni con cui Roma compare nella storia non possono esser ritenute
come l'opera esclusivamente personale dei re. Debbono essere riguardate come il
frutto di una lunga e lenta elaborazione già compiutasi in un periodo anteriore
di organizzazione sociale, che sarebbe il periodo dell'organizzazione
gentilizia o patriarcale. Roma secondo i risultati della filosofia, avvalorati
anche dagli studii comparativi fatti sui popoli primitivi sopratutto di origine
ariana, continua quell'opera di formazione della convivenza civile e politica,
iniziata gia dalle altre popolazioni italiche, le cui memorie risalgono ad
epoca anteriore a quella che è fissata per la fondazione di Roma. Quindi è
presso le genti latine ed italiche, che debbono essere cercate le origini delle
primitive istituzioni di Roma. Secondo il computo più universalmente adottato,
Roma è stata fondata nell'anno – ANNO I – ed e comparsa fra popolazioni
diverse, delle quali alcune in parte già erano uscite dall'organizzazione
gentilizia, e stano avviandosi ad una vera e propria organizzazione civile e
politica. Senza entrare nella questione dei rapporti, che possono correre fra [Per
un riassunto esatto delle tradizioni intorno alla storia primitiva di Roma
accompagnato da una critica finissima per separare il nucleo primitivo della
tradizione dalle aggiunte che si fecero più tardi, è da vedersi BONGHI, “Storia
di Roma”. Per lo studio delle istituzioni poli tiche importa sopratutto la
parte che si occupa appunto della costituzione politica di Roma, secondo
CICERONE, Livio, Dionisio] le stirpi italiche e le stirpi elleniche e in quella
della loro provenienza dall'Oriente (1), questo è certo che fra le stirpi
italiche già erano pervenute ad un certo svolgimento di civiltà e di potenza le
stirpi umbro-sabellica, latina ed etrusca. Scavi dimostrano che il sito
occupato da Roma dove già essere popolato da un'epoca assai remota e del tutto
pre-istorica. E scoperta sull'Esquilino una vasta necropoli, la cui esistenza
dimostra che una città etrusca di grande estensione ed importanza (Rasena)
esiste anche prima del periodo reale leggendario, e costituisce una prova molto
importante contro quella teoria che, attribuendo a Roma un'origine
esclusivamente latina e sabina, tende ad escludere o quanto meno ad attenuare
l'influenza dell'elemento etrusco. Tale provenienza delle stirpi italiche dalle
razze ariane e la conseguente loro, parentela colle elleniche, colle germaniche,
celtiche e slave, è oggidì universalmente ammessa, salvo che si mantiene ancora
sempre una grande oscurità circa l'origine della razza etrusca. Tra gli autori
recenti ha recato un contributo alla dimostrazione di tale provenienza Leist, “Graeco-italische
Rechtsgeschichte” (Jena), sopratutto nella parte in cui dimostra l'identità di
certi concetti primitivi comuni agl’arii dell'India e alle genti italiche ed elleniche.
È da vedersi la parte, che si riferisce alle instituzioni sacrali, in cui
discorre dei concetti di rita, themis e ratio. Quest'origine comune è pure
ammessa dal BERNHÖFT, “Staat und Recht der Römischen Königszeit” (Stuttgart). Per
quello poi che riguarda il vario svolgimento, che le istituzioni elaboratesi
nell'oriente dagl’arii primitivi ebbero a ricevere presso gli’arii dell'India,
della Persia, e poscia nell'occidente presso i greci, gli’italici ed i germani,
mi rimetto a quanto ho scritto in “La vita del diritto nei suoi rapporti colla
vita sociale” (Torino), i cui primi due libri sono appunto dedicati a tale
svolgimento. Sono a vedersi in proposito le notizie sugli scavi, che si
pubblicano dall'Accademia dei Lincei. Come riassunto degli studii topografici
fatti intorno a Roma fino a questi ultimi tempi mi sono valso dell'opera di
MIDDLETON, “Ancient Rome” (Edinburgh). Middleton parla di questi scavi e dei
resti dell'antichissima Rom. Fra gli autori che tendono a scemare l'influenza
del l'elemento etrusco sopra Roma primitiva, abbiamo il MOMMSEN, il LANGE, e il
Pelham nella sua storia di Roma antica pubblicata nell’Encyclopedia Britannica,
ninth edition, Edinburgh, -- voce: Rome. Combatte questa opinione il Taddei nel
suo l”Roma e i suoi Municipii” (Firenze). Senza pretendere di risolvere la
questione, è lecito osservare che mal si può sostenere la niuna influenza su
Roma primitiva di un popolo come l'etrusco che ha già delle città in siti
vicini, che conosceva quei riti con cui Roma fu fondata, e che diede a Roma i
tre ultimi re, quelli cioè, che rinnovarono più profondamente non solo
l'aspetto esteriore della città, ma anche la costituzione politica della
medesima. 4 Queste varie stirpi, che abitavano il suolo italico, per quanto ora
si ritengano tutte uscite dalla stirpe aria, hanno però dimenticata la
provenienza comune ed apparivano distinte fra di loro di origine, di costumi e
non hanno fra di loro comunanza di matrimonii. Solo sono ravvicinate da feste
religiose e da certi luoghi di mercato, ove taceno i conflitti e si praticao
gli scambi ed i commerci. Quanto alla loro organizzazione sociale, esse,
secondo l'opinione di Mommsen, del Leist, del Lange, si trovano nel periodo di
transizione dall'organizzazione gentilizia di carattere patriarcale
all'organizzazione politica della città e del municipio. Però anche a questo
riguardo si presentano in stadii e gradazioni diverse. La stirpi umbro-sabellica
apparisce con un carattere pro fondamente religioso. Sono dedite ancora più
alla pastorizia che al l'agricoltura. Preferiscono per formarvi le proprie sedi
i luoghi montani e conservano ancora quel carattere di fiera indipendenza, che
è proprio degli abitanti della montagna. Esse non abitano ancora in vere e
proprie città, ma in villaggi aperti, che costituiscono al trettante comunanze
rurali, e serbano le traccie di una potente organizzazione gentilizia, di cui
puo trovarsi un notevole esempio nella gens “Claudia”. Queste stirpi anche più
tardi dimostrarono poca attitudine alla formazione di un vero e proprio stato,
come lo provano le sorti dei bellicosi sanniti, che sono appunto derivati dal
ceppo umbro-sabellico. Trovansi invece già in condizione più progredita, per quel
che riguarda l'organizzazione sociale, la stirpe latina. Il Lazio infatti
appare diviso in altrettante comunanze di villaggio aperte, che sono costituite
da una aggregazione di famiglie e di genti, le quali discendono da un antenato
comune, di cui portano il nome e professano il culto gentilizio. Tali
aggregazioni di genti, che chiamansi tribù, abitano nei vici e nei pagi. Ma,
riconoscendo la loro origine comune, anzichè avere una esistenza del tutto
separata ed indipendente, sono già a far parte di un'aggregazione più vasta,
che costi [In ciò sono d'accordo Mommsen, Histoire Romaine. Trad. De Guerle.
Paris, ed anche il Lange, Histoire intérieure de Rome. Trad. Berthelot et
Didier. Paris. Lange attribuisce alle genti sabine un carattere più
conservatore che non alle Latine [-tuisce poi il “populus” e la “civitas”.
Questa aggregazione più vasta non solo ha comune la lingua, il costume e la
religione, ma eziandio la legge, l'amministrazione della giustizia e la difesa
contro gl’attacchi e l’aggressioni esterne. Essa quindi abbisognava di un
centro comune, a cui potessero metter capo le diverse comunanze di villaggio,
il quale centro comune era l'”urbs”, così chiamata dall'*orbita* sacra che la
circonda, nel cui recinto trovavasi l'arx o fortezza, a cui riparare nei
momenti di pericolo, il tempio del divino patrono – “dius,” “dius-piter” --
dell'intiera comunanza, il luogo ove si amministra giustizia, il sito per il
mercato e per le pubbliche riunioni. Questi stabilimenti pertanto, più che vere
e proprie città quali noile intendiamo, sono piuttosto inizii di città future,
in quanto che esse contenevano sopratutto quegl’edifizii, che hanno pubblica
destinazione. L'urbs era in certo modo il centro della vita pubblica per le
diverse comunanze di villaggio, come lo dimostrano anche le varie porte
esistenti nel muro di cinta, le quali porgevano modo di accedervi agl’abitanti
dei diversi villaggi. Si aggiunge che le varie città latine, le quali, secondo
la tradizione, sarebbero state in numero di XXX, erano anche confederate fra di
loro e mettevano capo ad una capitale: Alba Longa. Cid dimostra come le
popolazioni latine già fossero abbastanza progredite nella loro organizzazione
sociale, poichè, pur continuando ancora a vivere nelle comunanze di villaggio, sono
pero già pervenute a concepire e in parte ad attuare quella vita pubblica
comune, che dove poi svolgersi nella città e nel municipio. Vengono infine la stirpe
etrusca, la cui civiltà è ancora oggidi celata nel mistero, perchè le traccie
di essa furono in certo modo cancellate ed assorbite da Roma. Non può tuttavia
esser dubbio, che esse già erano in condizione di maggior progresso eco nomico
e civile delle altre popolazioni italiche, in quanto che posse devano vere e popolose
città, conoscevano le arti e la moneta, e per essere dedite al commercio si
trovano in comunicazione maggiore cogli altri popoli e sopratutto coi Greci. Anche
presso di queste era largamente svolto l'elemento religioso, come lo dimostra
la sapienza loro attribuita nell'arte augurale e nella consultazione degli
auspizii, come pure la tradizione, che presso di essi esistessero libri, (1)
MOMMSEN, FUSTEL DE COULANGES, La cité antique (Paris) - che determinano i riti
con cui le città dovevano essere fondate, e davano le regole secondo cui la
loro popolazione dove essere ripartita in tribù ed in curie. Del resto anche
l'antica costituzione della città etrusca, secondo Mommsen, si accosta nei suoi
tratti generali a quella della città latina, salvo che in essa il passaggio
dall’organizzazione patriarcale all'organizzazione muicipale già erasi spinto
più oltre, in quanto che la stirpe etrusca, per essere sopratutto dedite alla
navigazione ed al commercio, erano state naturalmente condotte a svolgere di
preferenza le comunanze urbane, che non le comunanze di carattere
esclusivamente rurale. I capi etruschi avevano il nome di Lucumoni. La
popolazione delle loro citt dividevasi in nobili ed in plebei, come pure
in tribù ed in curie, e se al disopra delle singole città apparivano eziandio
delle confederazioni, i vincoli pero che stringevano insieme le varie città,
che entravano a costituirle, non sono cosi intimi e stretti come quelli che
esisteno fra le città della confederazione latina. Esse infine pure presentano
le traccie dell'organizzazione gentilizia, ma queste sono già alquanto più
alterate per il maggior svolgimento a cui è pervenuta la comunanza civile e
politica. È a questo punto dello svolgimento dell'organizzazione sociale e
della convivenza civile, che Roma compare nella storia. Per quanto possano
esservi dei dubbi sull'influenza, che su di essa abbiano esercitato più tardi
l'elemento latino e l'elemento etrusco, questo è certo che il primo nucleo di
essa ebbe ad essere costituito da un gruppo di uomini armati di origine latina.
Sono i Ramnenses -- guidati da Romolo -- e usciti come colonia o per secessio
da Alba Longa, che hanno fondato quella Roma palatina, che, per la forma
quadrangolare delle sue mura, di cui sussistono ancora gli avanzi, suole essere
indicata col nome di “Roma quadrata”. Festo, v° Rituales: “Rituales nominantur etruscorum
libri, in quibus prae scriptum est quo ritu condantur urbes, arae, aedes
sacrentur; qua sanctitate muri, quo iure portae, quomodo tribus, curiae,
centuriae distribuantur, exercitus consti. tuentur, ordinentur, caeteraque eius
modi ad bellum ac pacem pertinentia ». MOMMSEN. LANGE cerca di distinguere il
popolo dei “Rasennae”, che sarebbero secondo lui i veri Etruschi, che egli
ritiene di origine aria ma di provenienza settentrionale, dagli abitanti del “vicus
tuscus”, che apparterrebbero invece ai Tursci, da lui ritenuti di origine umbra.
È questa la Roma, il cui pomoerium è stato descritto da TACITO. Nulla vi ha di
ripugnante nella tradizione, che questa mano di guerrieri, stabilitasi colla
forza in un sito chiuso e fortificato, siasi dapprima trovata in lotta aperta
colle altre comunanze, che erano stabilite in prossimità del Palatino. Essa
però ben presto esercita una attrazione potente sulle popolazioni vicine, e si
trasforma in un centro per la vita pubblica di una confederazione di varie
comunanze di villaggio, che sono disperse in quell'antico septimontium, che ci
è descritto dal giureconsulto M. Antistio Labeone, il quale avrebbe compreso il
Palatino, il Fagutale, la Subura, il Cermalo, l'Oppio, il Celio e il Cespio.
Cosi pure dovette presto entrare nella federazione anche una comunanza di
origine sabina, che era stabilita sul Quirinale. Di qui la conseguenza, che le
tradizioni antiche ed anche gli studi recenti, fatti sulla topografia di Roma,
condurrebbero a conchiudere che Roma primitiva avrebbe attraversato nel
periodo, che suole essere assegnato al regno del suo fondatore, due stadii ben
distinti nella propria formazione. Nel suo primo comparire infatti Roma non è
ancora che lo stabilimento romuleo, il quale, malgrado la denominazione che già
assume di vera e propria città, consiste nella sede fortificata di una tribù di
origine latina, che è quella dei Ramnenses, ancorchè intorno ad essa già si
trovi in via di formazione una plebe, il cui numero sarebbesi accresciuto,
secondo la tradizione, mediante l'asilo aperto ai rifugiati ed agli esuli delle
comunanze vicine. Più tardi invece questo nucleo agreste di guerrieri di
origine latina entra dapprima in ostilità e poscia viene in alleanza con
comunanze già prima stabilite sui colli vicini. Allora Roma diviene centro e
capo di tale federazione, e mutasi in una vera urbs, secondo il con È pur nota
la questione relativa al pomoerium, che alcuni vorrebbero collocare entro le
mura fondandosi su Livio, I, 44, mentre altri sostengono che fosse al di là
delle mura, come lo indicherebbe la stessa parola post-moerium. La questione fu
di recente trattata con grande corredo di erudizione da CARLOWA (“Romische
Rechtsgeschichte” Leipzig). Carlowa sembra propendere per l'opinione, che il
pomoerium serve di confine fra il territorio dell' “urbs” e l' “ager” circostante.
Cf. MIDDLETON Il testo di LABEONE è riportato da HUSCHKE, “Iurisprudentiae
anti-Iustinianeae quae supersunt”, Lipsiae. Un accenno a questo concetto
trovasi in Lange, “Histoire intérieure de Rome”. Tuttavia non pare che il
medesimo consideri lo stabilimento romuleo come una semplice tribù.] cetto
latino, ossia nella sede della vita pubblica di queste varie comunanze. Questi
due stadii nella formazione di Roma primitiva, di cui non si tiene sempre
sufficiente conto, sono accennati da diversi autori e fra gli altri anche dal
giureconsulto Pomponio, secondo il quale Romolo non procede alla divisione
della città in curie subito dopo la fondazione di essa. Ma vi sarebbe invece
addivenuto soltanto “aucta ad aliquem modum civitate” -- cioè quando altre
comunanze già eransi incorporate o meglio federate con essa nel l'intento di
partecipare ad una vita pubblica comune. Gli elementi primitivi, che secondo la
tradizione sonno entrati a far parte della comunanza romana in questo suo primo
periodo di ingrandimento, sono dalla stessa tradizione ridotti a TRE tribù,
cioè alla tribù dei TRIBU I -- Ramnenses, che era quella dei fondatori, a
quella TRIBU II -- dei Titienses, di origine Sabina, stabiliti sul Quirinale, i
quali sarebbero entrati nella comunanza mediante un foedus aequum, come lo
dimostra il fatto che i capi delle due tribù avrebbero regnato insieme e poscia
i loro successori si sarebbero alternati nel comando, e a quella infine TRIBU
III -- dei Luceres, coi quali sembra in vece sia seguito un foedus non aequum.
L'origine di questo ultimo elemento è incerta, ma dovette probabilmente essere
etrusca, quando si consideri, unitamente alla loro denominazione, l'esistenza
di un antichissimo Vicus Tuscus, la serie degli ultimi re che furono di origine
etrusca, e si tenga conto del fatto che le recenti scoperte dimostrano come le
genti etrusche già avessero da epoca ante riore fondato delle vere e proprie
città in prossimità del sito, ove Roma e edificata, Cosi intesa la formazione
di Roma primitiva, si dovrebbe venire alla conclusione, che la incorporazione
delle tre tribù nella comunanza romana avrebbe dovuto operarsi fin dal periodo
assegnato dalla tradizione al regno di Romolo -- il che però non toglie, ed [POMPONIUS,
L. 2 Dig. Credo doversi accogliere questa opinione nell' intricatissima
questione, perchè non si comprenderebbe la divisione tripartita della città,
che viene attribuita a Romolo, quando il concorso delle tre tribù non si fosse
effettuato durante il suo regno. Vero è, che nella storia primitiva di Roma
havvi un momento storico, in cui per l'aggiunzione di nuovi elementi si
raddoppia il numero dei membri dei collegi sacerdotali e quello delle centurie
dei cavalieri, ma il raddoppiamento si fa sempre sulla [ 9 anzi spiega anche
meglio come Roma, risultando di elementi diversi fin dalla propria origine, ha
poi accolte nella comunanza nuove genti di origine latina, come di origine
sabina e di origine etrusca, ed abbia in certo modo esercitata una specie di
attrazione sopra queste varie stirpi italiche, come lo dimostrano le tradizioni
relative alla cooptazione delle genti albane, quelle relative a Celes Vi benna
e alla venuta di Tarquinio a Roma colla sua gente, ed all'in corporazione,
avvenuta negli inizii del periodo repubblicano, della gente Claudia di origine
sabina. Intanto però il fatto, che Roma avrebbe preso le mosse da uno
stabilimento romuleo di origine latina, fondato in guisa analoga a quella con
cui si fondavano anche più tardi le colonie e con una analoga ripartizione dal
territorio occupato, spiega il carattere che Roma ha poi sempre a ritenere di
città eminentemente latina, in quanto che gli elementi, che si vennero
aggiungendo al nucleo primitivo, dovettero entrare nei quadri propri dello
stabilimento latino. Ciò accadde per mezzo di successive federazioni, una delle
quali, quella coi Luceres, sarebbe stata un foedus non aequum, in quanto che il
nuovo elemento sarebbe entrato nella comunanza in una condizione inferiore (1
). Conviene quindi conchiudere, che Roma primitiva, oltre all'essere di origine
latina, fu anche foggiata sul modello delle città latine, e che quindi, al pari
dell'urbs delle popolazioni del Lazio, diventa fin dapprincipio una città
federale, che può essere considerata come il centro della vita pubblica di
varie comunanze di villaggio. È però naturale, che questa trasformazione, per
cui Roma cessa di essere esclusivamente la sede fortificata di una tribù per
diventare centro e capo di una confederazione, abbia fatto sentire la necessità
di fortificare anche il Capitolino, e di munire di un vallum od agger
l'Aventino, costruzioni queste, che, secondo Dionisio, si sarebbero compiute
dallo stesso Romolo, ma di cui non rimasero più gli avanzi, che sono base di
tre, il che indica che già anteriormente dovevano esservi tre tribù, che con
correvano alla formazione di Roma. Cfr. Bloch, “Les origines du Sénat Romain” (Paris)
e per l'opinione contraria Bouché-LECLERCQ, “Manuel des institutions romaines”
(Paris). Il principio “prior in tempore, potior in iure” è dai Romani applicato
non solo in tema di diritto privato, ma anche in tema di diritto pubblico.
Questo concetto è ancora espressansente enunciato nella legge 74, § 1, Cod.
Theod. 12, 1. “Anteriore tempore adscitos ipsa aequum est antiquitate defendi”
[- invece notevoli quanto alla primitiva Roma quadrata. Vero è che questa
narrazione di Dionisio e posta in dubbio dalla critica contemporanea. Ma Dionisio
è certo che in se stessa non ha nulla di improbabile, in quanto che era ben
naturale, essendosi estesa la comunanza colla federazione di altre popolazioni
vicine, che anche il caput ed il centro di Roma fosse trasportato in un sito, a
cui fosse più facile l'accesso dalle varie comunanze, e che non fosse la dimora
pressochè esclusiva di una delle tribù confederate, come era della città
palatina. Si comprende pertanto come, sotto lo stesso Romolo o sotto i sei re
che lo seguirono, la fortezza della città e il tempio del divino patrone comune
– “dius”, “dius-piter” -- siansi fondati sul Capitolino e come a poco a poco gl’edifizii
pubblici di Roma antica siansi venuti concentrando fra il Palatino ed il
Capitolino, in quel sito appunto in cui ancora oggidi si ammirano le grandi
reliquie degli edifizii pubblici di Roma antica -- edifizii che al tempo d’Ottaviano
già sono considerati come una specie di museo, e come tali erano divenuti
oggetto di venerazione e di culto, ed erano custoditi qual memoria di una vita
politica, che ormai ha cessato di esistere. A questo periodo però, che può
dirsi di semplice confederazione, ne succedette un altro, in cui comincia ad
effettuarsi una vera e propria incorporazione delle varie comunanze di
villaggio in una città, la quale, fortificata e chiusa in se stessa, apparisse
paurosa e potente alle popolazioni vicine. Due cose si richiedevano per una
simile trasformazione. Convenne anzitutto che alla distinzione delle tre tribù
primitive, che ricorda ancor sempre la loro origine diversa, si facessero
sottentrare altre distinzioni, le quali sostituissero al vincolo genealogico il
vincolo territoriale, e che gl’elementi diversi, che sono entrati a far parte
della stessa comunanza politica e militare, fossero anche stretti insieme,
mediante la coabitazione entro le medesime mura. Fu allora, che, secondo la
vigorosa espressione di Floro, comincia a mescolarsi insieme il sangue di
elementi originariamente diversi, i quali finirono col tempo per costituire un
unico corpo ed un organismo coerente in tutte le sue parti. Dion. Cfr.
MIDDLETON, Ancient Rome. -- FLORUS, III, 18. “Quippe cum populus romanus etruscos,
latinos, sabinosque miscuerit et unum ex omnibus sanguinem ducat, corpus fecit
ex membris et ex omnibus unus est. Questi sono i divisamenti, che,
incominciando da Tarquinio Prisco, già cominciano a delinearsi nella mente dei
re. È noto infatti che Tarquinio Prisco già avrebbe tentato, secondo la
tradizione, di aggiungere nuove tribù alle tre primitive e di rompere così il
modello primitivo, sovra cui Roma erasi venuta formando. Il suo tentativo però
trova opposizione nell'augure sabino Atto Navio, che qui evidentemente si fa
interprete dello spirito conservatore del patriziato romano, e quindi l'opera
di Tarquinio Prisco dovette limitarsi a fare entrare gl’elementi sopraggiunti
nei quadri delle tribù primitive. Gli è perciò, che gli viene attribuito di
aver raddoppiato il numero delle vestali, di aver duplicato il numero delle
centurie degl’equites, aggiungendo alle tre centurie dei Ramnenses, Titienses,
Luceres primi le tre dei Ramnenses SECUNDI, Titienses SECUNDI, Luceres SECUNDI,
e di avere infine anche raddoppiato o quanto meno portato a CCC il numero dei
senatori con aggiungere ai “patres MAIORUM gentium” quelli “patres MINORUM
gentium” Così pure è ormai dimostrato che i re anteriori a Servio Tullio già
iniziano dei lavori di cinta e di fortificazione, che poi furono com presi
nella cinta Serviana, e che la grande opera di questa nuova cerchia di Roma già
e incominciata sotto Tarquinio Prisco. L'una e l'altra opera fu poi continuata
da Servio Tullio, che forte dell'appoggio della plebe e di parte anche del
popolo, sembra aver fatto a meno anche dell'approvazione dei padri. Egli
infatti, senza distruggere la primitiva organizzazione di Roma, fondata ancora
sulla discendenza, riusci a creare, accanto alla medesima, una nuova
organizzazione militare, politica e tributaria, per cui la popolazione romana
ricevette una nuova ripartizione in V CLASSI ed in centurie, e il suo
territorio venne ad essere diviso in tribù locali. Così pure riusci a compiere
quell'opera gigantesca della cinta, che fu dal nome di lui chiamata Serviana, i
cui avanzi formano ancora oggi la meraviglia degli investigatori dell'antichità
e dimostrano da soli la grandiosità e l'unità del concepimento, malgrado che
parecchi re avessero partecipato alla costruzione di quelle mura e di
quell'agger, che poi furono chiamati Serviani; costruzione, che sarebbe
pressochè incomprensibile se non fosse stata compiuta col concorso di quelle “plebs”,
ormai già fatta numerosa, che con Servio [Cic. de Rep., LANGE -- Tullio sarebbe
entrata a far parte del Populus Romanus Quiritium. È da questo momento che Roma
appare chiusa e fortificata nelle proprie mura, già splendida di edifizii,
ricca eziandio di una popolazione urbana, che può ancora essere accresciuta
senza che occorra di estenderne il pomoerium. È da quest'epoca parimenti, che
Roma, forte del rigore del proprio diritto e della propria disciplina domestica
e militare, si mette in lotta aperta con tutte le tribù o genti, che non siano
disposte ad accettarne la superiorità o l'alleanza. Noi ci troviamo così di
fronte alla Roma storica, conquistatrice e legislatrice prima dell'Italia e
poscia dell'universo, degna di essere studiata nelle sue lotte intestine e
nella sua unità compatta di fronte alle altre genti.Tuttavia, anche dopo Servio
Tullio, Roma non giunge mai a chiudere nelle proprie mura tutta la sua
popolazione, ma soltanto le quattro tribù urbane, mentre è ben maggiore il
numero delle tribù rustiche. e lo spazio dalle medesime occupato. Per tal modo
essa continua ancor sempre ad essere il centro della vita pubblica, a cui
mettono capo le popolazioni sparse nelle comunanze di villaggio o pagi, che la
circondano, ed è la sua persistenza in questo processo già seguito in Roma
primitiva e non mai abbandonato anche più tardi, che spiega come Roma abbia
potuto cambiarsi in una città, i cui cittadini erano sparsi dapprima in tutto
il Lazio, poi per tutta l'Italia, e da ultimo per tutto il territorio
dell'impero. Se insisto alquanto lungamente sopra questo concetto, gli è per
dimostrare come non possa accettarsi l'opinione che sull'autorità di Mommsen e
di altri fu pressochè universalmente accolta e che a mio avviso rende del tutto
incomprensibile la storia primitiva di Roma, secondo cui questa sarebbe stata
fin da principio l'unione, la fusione, l'incorporazione di varie tribù e genti
e dei territorii dalle medesime occupati. Ciò è smentito dal processo seguito
nella formazione delle città latine, quale è descritto dallo stesso Mommsen, ed
è in contraddizione con tutta la storia primitiva di Roma. Roma nei proprii
inizii e modellata sull'urbs dei popoli latini, e come tale non e che la
capitale di una federazione e il centro della sua vita pubblica, mentre lascia
che le genti e le famiglie con [V. in proposito BARATTIERI, “Sulle
fortificazioni di Roma all'epoca dei re”, Nuova Antologia] -- tinuassero la
propria vita domestica e patriarcale nelle comunanze di villaggio, alle quali
continud a lasciare i proprii territorii gentilizii. La sua formazione pertanto
non è dovuta ad un processo di aggregazione, ma ad un processo di *selezione*,
cosa che sarà più largamente dimostrata a suo tempo. Qui basta il notare che
questo modo di spiegare la formazione di Roma primitiva conduce a conseguenze
molto diverse da quelle, ch e furono pressochè universalmente adottate.
Partendo infatti dall'idea di una semplice aggregazione si giunge a trasportare
le gentes fra le ripartizioni delle città, come ha fatto Niebhur; a sostenere
con Mommsen che la primitiva proprietà di Roma e una proprietà collettiva come
quella delle gentes, ciò che è smentito assolutamente dal diritto primitivo di
Roma, a dare collo stesso autore un carattere assolutamente patriarcale alla
primitiva costituzione di Roma, e ad una quantità di altre illazioni, che
rendono del tutto inesplicabile e contradditoria la storia primitiva di quel
popolo, che ha usato una maggior logica nello svolgimento delle proprie
istituzioni. Con questo sistema si dove necessariamente giungere a considerare
la storia primitiva di Roma come una serie di leggende, che sarebbero state
inventate da un popolo, che in tutto il resto si è dimostrato invece ben poco
fantastico, nell'intento di combinare l'umiltà delle proprie origini colla
grandiosità dello svolgimento, che ebbe a ricevere dappoi. Pare strano che
nella mia pochezza venga a combattere opinioni, le quali appariscono suffragate
da un così gran cumulo di erudizione e di studii. Nè io l'avrei fatto quando si
trattasse di questo o di quel documento storico, ma dal momento che trattasi di
ricostruire in base alle induzioni più probabili il processo, che Roma segue
nella propria formazione, mi parve di doverlo fare, poichè sono appunto le
opinioni inesatte dei grandi filosofi, che pongono gli altri sopra una falsa
via. È incredibile la quantità di induzioni errate, che produsse nella storia
di Roma la confusione fatta da Niebuur dell'organizzazione gentilizia
coll'organizzazione politica allorchè volle scorgere nelle dekódeS di Dionisio
le gentes, e sostenne così che queste fossero una divisione politica della
città. Tutta la critica storica tedesca si pose in questa via e tutti vollero
scorgere nella città un'aggregazione di gentes, il che rese del tutto
inesplicabile la storia primitiva di Roma. Mi basterà citare fra gli altri;
MOMMSEN che dice che le genti erano incorporate tali e quali nello stato con
tutti i loro territorii e con tutte le famiglie, che contenevano e che il
gruppo della famiglia e della gens continuava a sussistere nello Stato. LANGE,
con uno sforzo mirabile, ma sfortunato, di sottigliezza, vuol trovare ad ogni
costo i caratteri della famiglia nello Stato romano. Parmi invece un processo
assai più logico e che può condurre a risultati assai più verosimili quello,
che ha già ad esser iniziato da Bonghi, di prendere Roma, quale essa si
presenta nelle tradizioni esaminate col sussidio della critica. Dal momento che
Roma si è veramente staccata da una popolazione latina, è naturale che essa sia
stata dapprima foggiata sul modello delle città latine, e che abbia continuata
tenacemente l'opera già da queste incominciata di organiz zare, accanto alla
vita patriarcale e gentilizia, quella vita pubblica, che dispiegasi appunto
nell'urbs e nella civitas. Roma si presenta nella storia memore di tutte le
tradizioni, che già si erano formate nel periodo anteriore dell'organizzazione
gentilizia, ed è con queste tradizioni, che si accinge ad organizzare un nuovo
aspetto di vita sociale, che è quello della vita pubblica e municipale. Essa
quindi non assorbe di un tratto nè le tribù nè le gentes, ma lascia che esse
continuino ad essere campo alla vita domestica e patriarcale. Solo richiama a
se lentamente e gradatamente tutti quegli ufficii di carattere pubblico, che
prima si compievano nel seno dell'organizzazione gentilizia, ed è in tale
intento che essa intraprende l'elaborazione del proprio diritto. Una volta poi
che quest'opera è iniziata, Roma, con quella tenacità di proposito, che è
sopratutto propria del popolo romano, non si arresta nell'opera sua sinchè non
sia pervenuta non solo ad organizzare nel proprio seno una vita pubblica e
municipale, ma a cambiare il mondo allora conosciuto in un complesso di città,
di colonie, di provincie organizzate tutte a somiglianza di se medesima, e gli
abitanti dell'impero in cittadini di un'unica città. La qual opera e compiuta
da Roma seguendo sempre quel medesimo processo, a cui erasi attenuta nella sua
primitiva formazione. È per questo
motivo, che era impossibile comprendere le origini delle istituzioni di Roma
senza tener dietro alla sua formazione esteriore, quale può ricavarsi dagli
studii topogra e il Sumner Main [E, “L'ancien droit,” trad. Courcelle
Seneuil,dove, dopo aver detto che la gens era una aggregazione di famiglie, e
la tribù un ' aggregazione di gentes, finisce per dire che la città non è essa
stessa che “un'aggregazione di tribù e la repubblica una collezione di persone
legate per discendenza comune all'autore di una famiglia primitive” -- il che
certamente non può ammettersi. Del resto la gravissima questione sarà trattata
più a lungo quando si discorre della
costituzione primitiva di Roma. [fici recentemente fatti intorno all'antica
Roma. Si potrebbe poi fa cilmente dimostrare, che questa formazione
progressiva, che risulta dall'estendersi della cerchia stessa di Roma, viene
anche ad essere provata dal formarsi progressivo della sua religione, del suo
senato, dell'ordine dei cavalieri, del suo esercito, dei suoi collegi
sacerdotali, ma cid risulta anche più chiaramente dalla formazione delle sue
istituzioni, poichè ciascun popolo imprime sopratutto il proprio carattere in
quella parte dell'opera sua, in cui giunse senz'alcun dubbio a maggiore
grandezza. A ciò si aggiunge la considerazione già stata fatta da un autore
assai benemerito della ricostruzione della storia primitiva di Roma, che è
Rubino, secondo il quale le tradizioni, che a noi pervennero circa i primi
tempi di Roma, debbono distinguersi in due specie. Vi hanno quelle relative
alla costituzione primitiva di Roma ed agli istituti religiosi e giuridici, che
sono collegati con essa, e queste fino a prova contraria debbono essere
ritenute per vere. Perchè trattasi [Vi ha questo di particolare nella storia di
Roma, che lo svolgimento di essa, sotto qualsiasi aspetto sia considerato,
presentasi organico e coerente in tutte le sue parti. Ne deriva che tanto le
investigazioni pazienti e minute quanto le ricostruzioni ardite, che si vennero
succedendo, finirono per sussidiarsi a vicenda per l'intelligenza di Roma
primitiva. Vi conferirono gli studiosi della topografia di Roma antica, della
sua arte militare, della sua letteratura, della sua filosofia, dei suoi
monumenti, della sua costituzione politica e delle sue istituzioni giuridiche.
Che anzi la coerenza del suo svolgimento appare così meravigliosa, che vi sono
autori che, seguendo soltanto il formarsi della sua religione e dei suoi
collegi sacerdotali, cercano di inferirne gli stadii della sua formazione
progressiva, come tenta di fare Bouché-LECLERCQ (“Les Pontifes de l'ancienne
Rome”, Paris, e “Manuel des institutions romaines”, Paris). Altri, che
tentarono di venire allo stesso risultato, seguendo lo svolgimento di un
istituto particolare, come sarebbe quello del senato, come WILLEMS, “Le sénat
de la république romaine” (Paris), come pure Blocu (“Les origines du sénat
romain,” Paris), od anche quello dell'ordine dei cavalieri, come tenta di fare
Belot (“Histoire des chevaliers romains,” Paris). Non può però esservi dubbio
che penetrarono più profondamente nella vita primitiva di Roma quelli
sopratutto, che, come Vico e Niebuur, ne ricercano la storia nelle lotte degl’ordini,
che entrano a costituirla e nello svolgimento delle istituzioni giuridiche e
politiche. Il diritto è la grande occupazione di Roma, e quindi è quello che
conserva meglio le vestigia di un'epoca pre-romana. Il diritto forma la
filosofia costante non solo dei sacerdoti, dei patrizi, e dei giureconsulti, ma
ancora dei poeti, per modo che fuvvi un autore, il quale raccogliendo, come
egli dice, “disiecti membra poetae” potè giungere a ricostruire in parte
l'edifizio giuridico di Roma, anche nei particolari minuti della sua procedura.
Henriot, “Maurs juridiques et judiciaires de l'ancienne Rome” Paris] d'un
argomento che ha un carattere pressochè sacro per il popolo romano, e in cui
concentra tutta la propria vita, per guisa che esso continua sempre a svolgere
con pertinacia e con co stanza quei concetti e quelle istituzioni, che furono
posti durante lo stesso periodo regio. Hanvi invece le tradizioni, che si
riferiscono a racconti di guerre e ad incidenti, che le avrebbero accompagnate,
a vicende di uomini illustri, a quei particolari insomma che danno vita ed
attrattiva alla storia romana, e queste rimasero per lungo tempo affidate alla
leggenda popolare e poterono cosi essere alterate sia dalla vanità nazionale
che dalla vanità delle grandi famiglie di Roma. Bene è vero, come osserva
Bonghi, che anche nella prima parte possono essersi introdotte dell’alterazioni,
che sono causate dal partito diverso, a cui appartengono gli scrittori, ma
siccome trattasi di istituzioni, che hanno un processo storico non mai
interrotto, cosi egli è ben più facile di ristabilire la verità, che non quando
trattasi di semplici incidenti della storia di Roma, che, non collegandosi così
strettamente col resto, potevano dare argomento ad altrettante leggende, che si
arricchivano di nuovi particolari, a misura che si veniva ripetendone la
narrazione. Dopo aver cosi seguita la formazione progressiva della comunanza
romana vediamo ora gli elementi, che si trovano in lotta nell'in terno della
medesima. È da vedersi al riguardo Bonghi, “La fede degli storici superstiti di
Roma antica”, che anche ora non è pubblicato, malgrado il desiderio che
l'illustre autore e gl’italiani tutti hanno di vedere pubblicata un'opera, che
egli solo è in condizione di compiere. Rivista storica italiana. IUna delle
circostanze più accertate della condizione di Roma primitiva si è, che nella
popolazione della medesima comincia fin dai primordii a manifestarsi un
dualismo potente, quello cioè fra il patrizii – descendenti dei ‘patres
patriae’ -- e la plebe. La tradizione cerca di spiegare questo dualismo
dicendo, che Romolo apre un asilo, ove si potessero rifugiare coloro che per
qualunque ragione avessero dovuto abbandonare la propria città. Ciò farebbe
credere che la distinzione fra i “patres” della “patria” (e suoi descendenti) e
la plebe e in certo modo nata con Roma, quando non e certo, che cotale
distinzione già esiste in altre città, e non vi fossero formole antiche, che
accennassero al doppio elemento coi vocaboli di populus et plebes. Sembra anzi
che le stesse tribù primitive, che entrarono nella costituzione della più
antica comunanza romana, già avessero con sè una propria plebe,
indipendentemente da quella che si sarebbe rifugiata nell'asilo aperto da
Romolo, in quanto che, secondo il racconto di Dionisio, uno dei primi
provvedimenti di Romolo e quello di affidare al plebeio la coltura dei campi,
l'allevamento del bestiame e l'esercizio delle arti manuali, e di collocarle
sotto la clientela del padre, il che sarebbe anche confermato da Cicerone come
pure da un luogo di Festo, secondo cui il senatore e chiamato “pater”, in
quanto che e incaricato di fare distribuzione di terre ad un ordine inferiore
di persone (tenuioribus). La distinzione fra il populus e la plebes trovasi
ancora in un documento importantissimo, cioè nella lex latina tabulae Bantinae,
ove è ripetuta più volte la frase “quisque eorunt sciet hanc legem populum
plebemve iousisse” -- formola che ha certo
grande importanza quando si consideri che era tradizione romana quella di
conservare le formole arcaiche nel tenore della propria legge. Quella formola
dimostra che populus e plebes dovevano dapprima essere distinti e che, quando i
due elementi si fusero insieme nella comunanza, per qualche tempo ancora i due
vocaboli serbarono rispettivamente la primitiva loro significazione. V. la lex
latina tabulae Bantinae nel Bruns, Fontes, Friburgi. Quanto al testo di
Dionisio, esso è riportato nella traduzione latina nel Bruns, Fontes. Quanto a
quello di Festo, vº Patres, è bene di CARLE, “Le origini del diritto di Roma”. Questo
è certo che il pater e il plebeio, anche quando giungono a considerarsi come
parti della medesima comunanza e a far parte dello stesso popolo, il che è
accaduto molto tempo dopo l'epoca della fondazione, continuano sempre a
costituire due ordini e pressochè due caste compiutamente distinte, fra le
quali non esiste ne identità di istituzioni, nè comunanza di tradizioni, nè il
diritto di connubio. Mentre il pater si presenta colla tradizione di un
passato, le cui origini si perdono nel l'oscurità dei tempi e deve forse essere
cercate nello stesso Oriente, e con una organizzazione potente, le cui traccie
si mantengono ancora durante il periodo storico. Il plebeio, invece presentasi
dapprima come una massa mobile, composta di elementi eterogenei e di origine
probabilmente diversa. Il plebeio ha pochissima importanza negl’inizio di Roma,
ma viene sempre più crescendo in numero e in potenza, anche perchè, a
differenza del pater, può continuamente accogliere nel proprio seno nuovi
elementi. Durante il periodo regio, il plebeio non sembra ancora essere in
condizione di affrontare la lotta col “pater”, ma cominciando dalla repubblica
i conflitti si fanno pressoché quotidiani, cosi in materia di diritto e dalle
discussioni, che seguono fra I due ordini, si può raccogliere che le differenze
essenziali, che servivano a distinguerli, erano essenzialmente le seguenti. Il
pater anzitutto e e si ritene il fondatore della urbs e il solo membro della
civitas. Il plebeio e un elemento, che trovasi in condizione inferiore e che
per la maggior parte e sopravvenuto più tardi, nè puo quindi, secondo le idee
del “pater”, pretendere ad un pareggiamento completo. Il “pater” ha un'organizzazione
potente, che era quella per gentes, la cui forza venne ancora ad accrescersi
mediante l'istituto della qui riportarlo. “A patres senatores ideo appellati
sunt, quia agrorum partes attri buerant tenuioribus, ac si liberis propriis.” V.
Bruns. Questi passi unita mente a quello di CICERONE, De rep. “Romulus habuit
plebem in clientelas principum descriptam” -- rispondono abbastanza
all'opinione di coloro, che come LANGE (“Histoire intérieure de Rome”) e Padelletti
(“Storia del diritto romano”) ostengono, che l'origine della plebe sia
posteriore alla fondazione della città, ed abbia solo avuto origine
«coll'ammissione di persone libere nella cittadinanza e nel territorio dello stato,
avvenuta per atto pubblico e accompagnata dalla concessione in proprietà di
terreni da coltivare. Cfr. MUIRHEAD, Hist. Introd., clientele. Il “pater”
quindi puo indicare la serie dei proprii antenati e dimostrare che i medesimi sono
sempre stati ingenui e che niuno di essi erasi trovato in condizione servile. Il
plebeio, invece, se si deve credere alle ragioni poste innanzi molto più tardi
dagl’oratori patrizii, allorchè trattavasi di Roma di respingere la legge
Canuleia diretta a togliere il divieto dei connubii fra i due ordini, non
conosce ancora la famiglia organizzata in base al potere del padre ed al culto
degli antenati, per cui una unione plebea non e dal “pater” considerata come “iusta
nuptia”, nè santificate dalla partecipazione al medesimo culto. E un semplice “matrimonium”,
in cui il vincolo di parentela e determinato piuttosto dalla cognazione *maternal*,
che dall'agnazione paterna. Di qui la conseguenza, che ancora dopo la legge di
Le XII Tavole il pater non puo comprendere una comunanza di connubio – iusta
nuptia – fra un pater (say, Charles III) e una plebea (say, Diana), come lo
dimostrano le parole di Livio relative al plebiscito Canuleio. “Rogationem
promulgavit, qua contaminari sanguinem suum patres confundique iura gentium
rebantur.” Da ultimo, una differenza importantissima consiste anche in questo,
che solo il pater possede un “auspicium”, cosicchè tutti gl’atti, che lo
riguardavano, assumevano un carattere solenne e religioso. Il plebeo, pur
avendo una religione e feste [(1) Gellio, Noc. Att., 10, 20 chiama la plebe
quella parte della popolazione romana, nella quale “gentes patriciae non
insunt.” È poi noto che, secondo Livio, nelle discussioni fra pater e plebeo gl’oratori
di questa attribuivano ai primi di vantarsi di esser soli ad avere le gentes
con parole, che riassumono i titoli di superiorità del pater. “Semper ista
audita sunt eadem: penes vos solos au spicia esse, vos solos gentes habere, vos
solos iustum imperium et auspicium domi militiaeque ecc.” Pare tuttavia che non
possa affatto escludersi l'esistenza di gentes plebeiae, le quali però
costituivano una eccezione. La causa di questo fatto può essere duplice. O
queste gentes potevano derivare dalle popolazioni delle città latine, che già
avevano un'organizzazione simile a quella delle genti patrizie, sebbene non
fossero più state ammesse nel patriziato, – o la formazione di queste gentes
accade più tardi, quando una parte della plebe, entrata a far parte della
nobiltà, cerca essa pure di imitare l'organizzazione gentilizia, il che comincia
ad es sere possibile dopo la legge Licinia Sestia, colle quali il plebeo e
ammesso al console. Così Cicerone ci attesta, che la famiglia dei Marcelli
erasi staccata dall'antica gente patrizia dei Claudii (De Orat.). Così pure Cicerone
ci parla di una “gens” Minucia, che sarebbe stata *plebea* (In Verr., I, 45 ).
Fra i filosofi sull'argomento sono da vedersi il Voigt, “XII Tafeln”, Leipzig,
e il KARLOWA, Röm., R. G., -- Liv., – “popolari, non possedeva gli auspicia, nè
aveva un proprio culto gentilizio -- “sacrum gentilicium” --. Queste differenze
sono tali, che sebbene le circostanze conducessero col tempo i due ordini a far
parte della stessa comunanza, e pero naturale, che essi non potessero entrarvi
alle stesse condizioni. Dalle differenze sovra enumerate questo intanto si può
inferire, che in Roma primitiva la superiorità, che si attribuiva il pater sul
plebeo, trova sopratutto la propria causa in ciò, che esso era già era più
progredito nell'organizzazione sociale, ed era prima uscito dallo stato di
confusione, di privata violenza e di promiscuità primitive, che esso riteneva
in parte essere ancora proprie della plebe. Il pater sa indicare i proprii
antenati, ha conservato gelosamente le proprie tradizioni, ed e già pervenuto
al l'organizzazione di un culto gentilizio. Di più e la “gens”, che
aggruppandosi insieme avevano dato origine alla tribù, come pure erano le
tribù, che, confederandosi insieme in conformità di certi riti e dopo aver
assunto solennemente gli auspicii, erano pervenute a fondare la città, in cui
provvedevano ai comuni interessi ed obbedeno ad una legge, espressione della
volontà comune. Bene è vero che, per accrescere la forza della loro città del
loro esercito, e spediente di incorporare in essi anche le plebes cioè le
moltitudini, che naturalmente si venivano raccogliendo ove era fondata e
fortificata un'aggregazione di genti patrizie. Ma chi tenga conto della umana
natura, che in questa parte non sembra ancora essersi modificata, non può certo
meravigliarsi se le genti patrizie abbiano applicato colla plebe la massima – “prior
in tempore, potior in iure” -- , e si siano cosi prevalse del vantaggio, che
loro somministra una più antica esperienza delle cose civili ed umane, per
conservare a lungo una posizione privilegiata nella comunanza civile. Piuttosto
è da ammirarsi la tenacità e perseveranza del plebeo, il quale, composta [Quinto
all'origine ed al carattere del patriziato primitivo di Roma, contiene delle
buone ed acute osservazioni l'articolo di FREEMAN nell'Encyclopedia Britannica, vº
Nobility, ove il pater romano è posto a paragone cogli Eupatridi di Grecia,
colla nobiltà feudale, coi Pari Inghilterra ecc. È pure a vedersi il Duruy, “Histoire
des Romains,” Paris, chi parla del “pater” come di un'istituzione propria della
società primitiva e nota le analogie e le differenze fra il pater di Roma e i
bramano dell'India. Cfr. Muirhead] dapprima di elementi eterogenei e priva di
qualsiasi organizzazione sociale, seppe col tempo in tutto e per tutto imitare
l'organizzazione propria dei pater, creare genti plebee accanto alle genti
patrizie, contrapporre le tribù alle curie, i tribuni ai veri magistrati, e
che, appena potè ottenere il riconoscimento di un diritto, di quello cioè della
proprietà quiritaria, riusci a valersi del medesimo come di strumento e di
mezzo per ottenere a poco l'uguaglianza giuridica e politica, e perfino
l'ammissione a quegli auspicia, a quei sacerdotia, e a quella scienza del
diritto, che solo molto tardi vennero ad essere comunicati al plebeo. Questo
intanto può aversi per certo, che la formazione del pater e del plebeo costituisce
in certo modo la questione fondamentale della storia politica e giuridica di
Roma. Vero è che accanto ai plebei trovansi pur anche i servi ed i clienti, ma
questi due elementi non hanno certo l'importanza della plebe, che dove poi
avere tanta parte nella storia di Roma, in quanto che un servo entra a far
parte della famiglia ed il cliente ri-entra anch'essi nell'organizzazione
gentilizia. Di più tanto il servo come il cliente, al lorchè riescono a
svincolarsi dal “pater”, entrano a far parte della plebe, che è quella
veramente, che sostiene e vince la lotta per il pareggiamento giuridico e
politico col “pater”. Quindi è che nè il servo, né il cliente come tali
riescono ad avere una piena personalità giuridica e civile. Il cliente scomparisce
a poco a poco o si trasforma in semplice salutator. Il servo si mantenne bensì,
ma non giungono mai, durante il predominio di Roma, ad essere riconosciuti come
capaci di diritto. La questione limitasi pertanto al pater ed al plebeo ed è
quindi l'origine di questi due elementi, che è il maggior problema, che offra
la storia primitiva di Roma. Cio non ostante, sinchè non siansi esaminate
l'organizzazione dei patres e la composizione della plebe, non pud certo
affrontarsi il problema della origine delle due classi. Basterà unicamente, per
l'intelligenza di ciò che verrà dopo, di osservare che le differenze, che
esisteno fra di esse negli inizii. Queste lotte per il pareggiamento sono
largamente esposte da LANGE, “Histoire intérieure de Rome”. I risultati poi
della lotta sono riassunti nel dotto lavoro del GENTILE, “Le elezioni e il
broglio nella repubblica romana” (Milano) e sopratutto in “Le assemblee
elettorali”] di Roma, la superiorità pressochè incontestata del “pater” e
l'ossequio pressochè servile del plebeo nei primi tempi della città dimostrano
abbastanza, che la loro distinzione non potè certamente essere opera della
legge, nè delle circostanze storiche speciali, in cui Roma ha a trovarsi. Dovette
essere il frutto di una lunga evoluzione storica, la cui preparazione deve
essere cercata in un periodo anteriore di organizzazione sociale. Non può
esservi dubbio, che l'origine di una distinzione, così altamente radicata nel
costume e nelle abitudini delle due classi, deve essere cercata in quei
cataclismi, che dovettero avverarsi nell'urtarsi e nel sovrapporsi delle stirpi
italiche, di origine aria, sovra altre stirpi, che già abitavano il suolo,
sovra cui esse si arrestarono nelle proprie migrazioni. Essa è una distinzione,
che deve certamente rannodarsi ad una divisione ben più antica, e le cui
traccie si mantengono sempre nella storia dell'umanità, che è quella fra la
classe dei conquistatori, dei vincitori, dei primi pervenuti a stabilirsi in un
determinato suolo, e quella dei soggiogati, dei vinti, e dei sopraggiunti più
tardi a porre la propria sede in un suolo, che altri hanno prima occupato e
sovra cui i medesimi già si erano stabiliti e fortificati. Egli è certo, che
nel sopraggiungere delle stirpi italiche migranti dall'Oriente dovette
certamente avverarsi un periodo di privata violenza non dissimile da quello,
che accadde più tardi allorchè le popolazioni germaniche invasero il principato.
Anche allora dovettero esservii vincitori ed i vinti, e frammezzo a quella
promiscuità di genti e a quella prevalenza della forza, che ci ricordano ancora
gli filosofi latini quando ci parlano di “connubia more foerarum” e di “viri
duro ex robore nati”, dovette sentirsi urgentissimo il bisogno di una
protezione giuridica e di una forte organizzazione sociale. Dovettero [Sono
sopratutto i filosofi latini, come interpreti delle primitive tradizioni e
leggende, che alludono frequentemente a questo stato primitivo, in cui si trovano
le genti italiche, ora descrivendo una età dell'oro, che assegnano al regno di
Saturno, che sembra corrispondere al Savitar degli Arii, ed ora accennando
eziandio a un periodo, in cui avrebbe imperato la forza e la violenza. È
veramente preziosa in proposito e riflette mirabilmente la coscienza primitiva
delle genti italiche la raccolta, che l'Henriot ha a fare dei testi dei filosofi
latini, che possono avere qualche attinenza col diritto, nella sua opera col
titolo: “Mæurs juridiques et judiciaires de l'ancienne Rome d'après les poètes
latins” (Paris) sull’età dell'oro e sull'imperio della forza. È poi notabile
come tutti i filosofi accennino al concetto di un “diritto” della “natura”,
preesistente alla formazione del civile consorzio, e tutti esprimano con grande
efficacia l'altissima importanza, che dovette avere per l'umanità l'origine
della legge] allora succedere fra le popolazioni italiche dei cataclisminon
minori di quelli, che si attribuiscono al nostro suolo, e furono questi
cataclismi, che condussero necessariamente alla formazione di un aristocrazia –
il pater del patriarcato -- territoriale, militare e patriarcale ad un tempo,
che era il solo ed unico mezzo per uscire da uno stato di promiscuità e di
violenza. Fu questa patriarcato – ottimati -- che comprende il padre nella
famiglia, il patre nella gente e il pater nella tribù, ed abbraccia cosi tutte
quelle genti, le quali, memori forse di istituzioni che eransi altrove
elaborate, trapiantarono frammezzo al disordine ed alla lotta la potente
organizzazione gentilizia, che una volta formata si chiuse in certo modo in se
stessa e riguardo come di origine inferiore tutti coloro che non appartenevano
alla medesima. Fu questa aristocrazia del ‘pater’ potentemente organizzata per
gentes, che costituì la classe privilegiata e che merita dapprima anche di
essere considerata come tale. Ma accanto alla medesima dovette naturalmente
formarsi una classe subordinata, i cui gradi corrispondono precisamente ai
varii stadii dell'organizzazione gentilizia, in quanto che comprende il servo
nella famiglia, il cliente nella gente, ed il plebeo, che cominciano a
comparire colla tribù. Per tal modo nelle popolazioni, che si vengono così
organizzando, si disegnano per spontanea e naturale formazione, due strati, che
si corrispondono fra di loro, e mentre in una lunga e lenta evoluzione, di cui
non sopravisse alcun ricordo, salvo nella lingua e negli oggetti trovati nelle
tombe, il ‘pater’ della famiglia si cambiano in ‘pater’ nella gente e quindi in
‘pater’ nella tribù, anche i servi mano messi dal ‘pater’ mutansi in clienti
del ‘pater’ ed il cliente rimasnne senza ‘pater’] formano il primo nucleo della
plebe. Il pater – qua Padri, patrone e patrizio – e, in sedimenti successive, la
classe alta dei vincitori, dei proprietari delle terre, dei primi organizzatori
di una vita sociale. Il servo, il cliente ed il plebeo rappresentano i varii
stadii, per cui passa la classe inferiore dei vinti, e di quelli che, per avere
una prot zione, si accalcano intorno allo stabilimento di una casata patrizia.
Il primo puo indicare suoi proprii antenati ed escludere qualsiasi origine
servile. Il plebeo, se giunsero col tempo ed essere indipendenti dal patriziato,
appartennero probabilmente alla classe del servo e del cliente, e non ha
dapprima quelle giuste nozze, che accertano la discendenza per la linea
maschile. È in questo modo che il patriziato venne formandosi l'alto concetto
della propria superiorità e che giunse fino a dire, se non a credere, che
discende dal divino (il che del resto non era intieramente falso dal momento [
- che ha elevato a divinio il proprio antenato). Mentre la plebe, memore forse
della servitù antica, trovasi dapprima in una abbiezione pressochè servile, da
cui non venne a liberarsi che quando ebbe ad essere rigenerata da un nucleo
potente di famiglie latine, che appartenevano alle città conquistate da Roma.
Intanto pero fra le due classi vi ha questa differenza. La prima tende a
tircoscriversi, anche per la difficoltà di far entrare nuovi elementi in una
organizzazione così gerarchica, come era l'organizzazione gentilizia, la quale
non poteva accogliere degli individui ma soltanto delle altre gente. La plebe,
appena viene ad affermare la propria esistenza, tende invece ad incorporarsi
nuovi elementi, senza vagliarne l'origine, per modo che essa puo accogliere i
vinti che non siano ridotti in ischiavitù, gl’emigranti che non siano ricevuti
come cliente. Non solo può aggregare nel proprio seno delle famiglie, ma anche
individui, che essendosi disgiunti dal gruppo, a cui erano uniti, abbisognino
di protezione e di tutela. Intanto pero fra l'uno e l'altro ordine, la grande
differenza è questa, che nelle origini, solo il pater ha una vera posizione di
diritto. Il plebeo non ha dapprima che una posizione di fatto. Il pater e il
popolo da esso costituito è un ordine. La plebe non è che una moltitudine, una
folla non ancora organizzata. Il pater ha tradizioni militari, religiose,
giuridiche. Il plebeo non ha dapprima che quelle costumanze e quegli usi, che
possono formarsi in una folla di provenienza diversa e di formazione del tutto
recente. Il pater ha una religione gentilizia, formatasi nel suo seno mediante
il culto degli antenati. Il plebeo non ha che un complesso di credenze
popolari, che ancora abbisognano di ricevere una forma religiosa. Ben si
comprende quindi, che la distanza e grande e che dove essere assai malagevole
di raccogliere i due elementi nella stessa comunanza, elaborando un diritto,
che potesse essere comune ad entrambi. Fermi cosi i caratteri generali dei due
ordini, importa di ricercare più particolarmente l'organizzazione già formata
del pater, e quella ancora in via di formazione, che dovrà poi comprendere il
plebeo – Livio: “En unquam fando audistis patricios primo esse factos, non de
caelo demissos, sed qui patrem ciere possunt, id est nihil ultra quam ingenuos.”
Non può esservi dubbio, che a costituire il patriziato primitivo di Roma
concorsero elementi diversi, usciti per la maggior parte da quelle tre stirpi
di popoli, che secondo la tradizione entrarono a for mare la comunanza romana.
Sonvi quindi genti di origine latina, e fra queste sonovi quelle che figurano
come più antiche, genti di origine sabina, ed altre, in numero forse minore, di
origine etrusca. L'origine diversa poi facilmente persuade, che le loro
istituzioni tradizionali dovevano anche essere dissimili, e che quindi quella
completa analogia di istituzioni, che in esse apparisce più tardi, do vette
essere l'effetto di una lenta assimilazione, che vennesi operando gradatamente
mediante la loro partecipazione ad una stessa comunanza civile e politica. Tuttavia,
malgrado le differenze che potevano esservi nelle sue tradizioni, il pater
romano, comunque fosse originariamente composto, presenta fin dalle origini
della città le traccie di un'organizzazione potente di carattere patriarcale,
che è l'organizzazione gentilizia. Non è qui il caso di cercare, se questa
organizzazione per genti sia stata una necessità storica per uscire da quello
stato di conflitto e di privata violenza, che dovette avverarsi all'epoca delle
migrazioni, e se sia stata invece una istituzione, che le stirpi migranti già
avevano elaborata altrove e che loro servi per sovrap porsi alle popolazioni
indigene, il che sembra essere più probabile. L'enumerazione delle primitive
genti patrizie col riassunto delle opinioni di. verse intorno alla loro origine
e alle molteplici dirainazioni, che partirono da cia scuna di esse, può
trovarsi in Bonghi, “Storia di Roma”, Cfr. MUIRHEAD, Hist. Introd., in princ.
Ivi l'autore cerca perfino di determinare la parte, che nel diritto si attribuisce
alle varie stirpi] questo in ogni caso deve aversi per certo, che è in virtù di
questa organizzazione, che le primitive genti patrizie, per quanto potessero
essere diverse di numero e di potenza, appariscono pero foggiate sul medesimo
modello. Tale organizzazione tuttavia nel periodo storico già trovasi in via di
dissoluzione; ed anche quello che ne rimane già presentasi alquanto alterato
nelle sue primitive fattezze per essersi confuso coll'elemento civile e
politico, dal quale è assai difficile sceverarlo. Ciò non ostante dalle vestigia,
che ne rimangono e che sono dovute sopratutto allo spirito eminentemente
conservatore del popolo romano, si può dedurre che l'organizzazione gentilizia
dovette nel patriziato romano presentarsi in gradazioni diverse, tutte
strettamente connesse fra di loro. Esse sono: la famiglia fondata
sull'agnazione, la gente accresciuta ed afforzata dalla clientela, e da ultimo
la tribú, in cui già compare nei proprii inizii la distinzione fra il
patriziato e la plebe. Sarebbe certo cosa di grande interesse il ricercare qui
se nelle prime origini l'organizzazione gentilizia ha prese le mosse dalla
famiglia, o dalla gente, o dalla tribù. Ma ciò ci recherebbe a quel l'epoca e a
quel sito, in cui le stirpi arie ponevano le prime basi dell'organizzazione
patriarcale, cominciando probabilmente dal più piccolo e più naturale dei
gruppi, che era la famiglia. Qui pero non e inopportuno il mettere innanzi,
almeno a titolo di congettura, che dei varii gradi dell'organizzazione gentilizia
quello, che probabilmente servi per la migrazione delle varie stirpi
dall'Oriente all'Occidente, dovette essere il gruppo della “gens”. Ciò è dimo [Questa
stessa gradazione è accolta dal SUMNER MAINE, Ancien droit, ma non è invece
quella seguita da Leist, Graeco- Italische R. G., il quale parmi non distingua
sempre abbastanza due cose affatto diverse fra loro, che sono l'organizzazione
gentilizia e l'organizzazione politica, considerando come altrettante divisioni
del populus, non solo le tribus e le curiae, ma anche le gentes. Senza voler
quientrare in una questione, chemi trarrebbe troppo per le lunghe, non posso
però tralasciare di notare, che la così detta famiglia patriarcale non deve
ritenersi come la famiglia veramente primitiva, poichè essa è già una famiglia,
le cui fattezze vengono ad essere trasformate a causa del suo entrare a far
parte della organizzazione gentilizia. È nota in proposito la discussione,
anche oggi non definita, fra il Sumner MAINE, “Early law and custom” (London) da
una parte, e MORGAN e Mac-Lennan dall'altra, come pure la cri tica fatta, alla
teoria patriarcale del SUMNER Maine, dallo SPENCER, Principes de sociologie,
strato dal fatto, che è dalla gente che il patrizio romano deriva quel nome,
che esso ha ricevuto dall'antenato comune e che deve trasmettere poi ai proprii
discendenti, e che, anche nei tempi storici di Roma, allorchè accade qualche
nuova incorporazione nel patriziato mediante la cooptatio, questa non si
effettua nè per famiglie, nè per tribù, ma per genti. Mentre la famiglia è il
gruppo più ristretto ed unificato in tutte le sue parti e la tribù è già una
vera e propria comunanza di villaggio, in cui si preparano gli elementi
costitutivi della città, la gente invece è il gruppo intermedio, che da
giustamente il suo nome e la propria impronta all'organizzazione gentilizia,
perchè di sua natura è un gruppo più elastico e pieghevole di tutti gl’altri, e
che può meglio accomodarsi a qualsiasi evenienza in un periodo di migrazione.
La “gens” infatti è più forte e numerosa della famiglia, perchè continua a
stringere insieme le famiglie, che per discendere da un comune antenato sono
anche unite tra di loro da un medesimo culto, e intanto è più compatta della
tribus, la quale essendo già l'aggregazione di più genti, che o sono di origine
diversa o hanno già dimenticata l'origine comune, può già fornire argomento a
dissidii fra i capi delle varie genti, che entrano a costituirla. La gente poi
è per sua natura tale, che ora può cambiarsi in una carovana in migrazione, ora
attendarsi e stabilirsi in un determinato sito, ed ora anche raccogliersi a
guisa di un ma nipolo di soldati, e tutto ciò senza che possa mai sorgere
questione di preminenza, perchè è la consuetudine, che designa chi debba
esserne il capo e perchè il vincolo della comune discendenza fa sì che tutti i
suoi membri ne subiscano volenterosi il comando. In tanto è nella gente, che si
vengono formando e distinguendo le famiglie, come pure sono le genti che,
aggregandosi intorno ad una preminente fra le altre, danno origine alla tribù,
la quale è già più atta ad arrestarsi in un determinato sito e ad essere così
di avviamento alla convivenza civile e politica. I tre gruppi tuttavia sono
sedimenti di una spontanea e naturale formazione, che si vengono sovrapponendo
l'uno all'altro per modo, che appariscono tutti foggiati sul medesimo modello,
che è quello del gruppo patriarcale, e si vengono reciprocamente influenzando
per guisa, che tutti appariscono come strati diversi di un'unica organizzazione.
Di qui la [Cfr. Willems, “Le droit public romain,” Paris] conseguenza, che
tutti questi gruppi, dal momento che difetta an cora una vera convivenza civile
e politica, compiono l'uffizio ad un tempo di convivenza domestica e di
convivenza civile, colla differenza tuttavia, che nella famiglia prevale ancor
sempre il vincolo del SANGUE, e nella tribù già si fa strada il vincolo civile
e politico, mentre la gente è quella, che ha il carattere più schiettamente
patriarcale. Cio premesso quanto ai caratteri generali della organizzazione
gentilizia, cerchiamo di ricostruirne le principali fattezze, desumendole dalle
traccie che ancora ne rimangono nella storia primitiva di Roma, nella quale vi
ha questo di particolare che, anche quando un'istituzione si dissolve, si sanno
mantenere le forme esteriori della medesima. In cio sarà bene incominciare
dalla famiglia, come quella che ha ad esser meglio conservata e intanto
costituisce il gruppo più ristretto dell'organizzazione gentilizia. Per quanto
sia vero che la famiglia, quale presentasi più tardi nel diritto quiritario,
sia una istituzione comune così al patriziato che alla plebe, sonvi tuttavia
forti argomenti per credere che la sua primitiva organizzazione fosse di
origine patrizia. Fra gli altr’argomenti l'importantissimo è questo, che una
moltitudine come la plebe, che era di provenienza diversa e di formazione
ancora del tutto recente, non poteva possedere fin dai suoi inizii una
organizzazione famigliare, che presuppone una lunga serie di antenati e perciò
una lunga elaborazione anteriore. Ciò del resto è anche dimostrato da che nelle
origini il vocabolo di “patres” indica sopratutto i capi delle *famiglie*
patrizie, e perfino gli stessi senatori, che certo usci [Quanto ai caratteri
comuni al gruppo patriarcale degl’arii, alla “gens” romana ed al gévos dei
greci ed alla letteratura copiosissima sull'argomento, mi rimetto alla mia
opera: “La vita del diritto nei suoi rapporti colla vita sociale” (Torino), ed
all'opuscolo, “Genesi e svolgimento delle varie forme di convivenza civile e
politica” (Torino). Recarono un nuovo contributo allo studio comparativo delle
istituzioni primitive presso le genti di origine aria, oltre le opere già
citate del Sumner Maine, il BERNHÖFT, Staat und Recht der röm. Königszeit,
Stuttgart, e Leist] vano dal patriziato, al modo stesso che il vocabolo di “patricii”
indica “figlio del pater.” Lo stesso provano eziandio le nozze confarreate,
certamente proprie del patriziato, che nella leggi attribuita a Romolo ed a
Numa sembrano essere il solo modo con cui si puo contrarre le giuste nozze. Si
aggiunge infine il carattere agnatizio della famiglia primitiva di Roma, il
quale non è e non può essere un carattere originario, ma è una conseguenza
della stessa organizzazione gentilizia, di cui la famiglia entra a far parte.
Dal momento infatti, che in questo periodo non esiste ancora una vera comunanza
civile e politica, diveniva inevitabile che l'organizzazione gentilizia ne
assumesse le funzioni e le veci, e che perciò anche la famiglia, in quanto ne
fa parte, venisse a ricevere un'organizzazione piuttosto fondata sul potere del
PADRE, che non sul vincolo del SANGE. È questa la causa per cui la famiglia
primitiva Romana sembra, almeno in apparenza, soffocare i naturali affetti del SANGUE,
per guadagnare in forza ed in potenza, unificandosi sotto la potestà del
proprio capo. Una volta poi che il fondamento della unione domestica si
riponeva nella potestà del PADRE, er una conseguenza logicamente inevitabile,
che come il PADRE prevaleva nella costituzione e nel governo della famiglia,
cosi l'agnazione, ossia la DISCENDENZA dal padre, per la linea MASCHILE, dove prevalere
nella composizione diessa. È in questo senso, che la famiglia primitiva Romana
viene a costituire un organismo potente, che può essere considerato come il
primo anello e come il nucleo più ristretto dell'organizzazione gentilizia.
Essa infatti ha una costituzione eminentemente monarchica, perchè tanto le
persone, che la costituiscono, quanto le cose, che ne formano il PATRI-MONIO,
dipendono esclusivamente dalla potestà del padre. La famiglia patrizia poi è un
vero e proprio organismo, che può considerarsi in due momenti diversi. Finchè
infatti vive il PADRE, nel cui potere essa trovasi unificata, la famiglia è un
vero corpo vivente, che può andar soggetto a continui mutamenti, in quanto che
vi hanno persone che possono uscirne ed altre che pos sono entrarvi. Quando poi
il padre muore, quelli che un tempo erano soggetti alla sua potestà possono
ancora continuare a tenere [Dion., 2, 25 e 2, 63, testo è riportato da Bruns,
Fontes “Leges Regiae”] indiviso il patrimonio comune, assecondando un antico
costume romano, che si esprimeva colle parole conservateci da Gellio “ercto non
cito” -- le quali significano in sostanza che non si dovesse procedere alla
divisione immediata del patrimonio. In tal caso si mantiene fra gli agnati un
di soggetti alla patria potestà una specie di società universale di tutti i
beni, per cui sembra in certo modo che si perpetui ancora l'esistenza della
famiglia, e si ha così quella famiglia in largo senso, di cui ci parlano ancora
i giureconsulti, che la chiamano “familia omnium agnatorum.” Questa indivi
sione dove certamente essere frequente nei tempi primitivi e fu questa la causa
per cui, oltre la famiglia nel vero senso della parola, che comprende tutti
quelli che sono soggetti alla “patria potestà”, venne delineandosi una famiglia
più vasta, che è quella degli agnati, la quale sebbene abbia cessato di essere
unificata dalla potestà del padre, continua tuttavia ancora ad essere unita
insieme e a costituire un tutto – “consortium” -- stante l'indivisione del
patrimonio. Ciò però non toglie che il concetto della famiglia agnatizia siasi
poscia cambiato e che si siano compresi col nome di agnati tutti coloro, che [Mi
fo lecito di mettere innanzi questa interpretazione delle parole arcaiche “ercto
non cito” e ciò in base a quello che ci attesta Servio, il quale interpretando
questa espressione, dice appunto, che essa significa “patrimonio vel hereditate
non divisa” -- Serv., in Aen., VIII, 642 (Bruns, Fontes). Queste parole furono
poi applicate per indicare in genere la « societas omnium bonorum » in virtù
della quale, secondo l'attestazione di Gellio. “Comnes simul in cohortem
recepti erant, quod quisque familiae, pecuniae habebat in medium dabat, et
coibatur societas in separabilis, tamquam illud fuit antiquum consortium, quod
iure atque verbo romano appellatur cercto non cito.” Che poi queste parole
siano in certo modo un'antica clausola testamentaria, con cui il padre proibiva
la divisione immediata appare da ciò, che “ercto” deriva certamente da “ercisco”
e “cito” è un avverbio che deriva da cieo e significa « prontamente ». Vedi
BRÉAL e Bailly, Dictionnaire étymologique latin, Paris, pº Ercisco e Cieo. Che poi veramente presso
gli antichi romani fosse consuetudine di mantenere, per quanto fosse possibile,
l'indivisione, appare dal seguente testo, che trovo citato da KARLOWA, Röm. R.
G., ricavato dalle PETRI, Excep. legum romanarum, lib. I, cap. 19, De vendenda
hereditate. Consuetudo antiquorum esse solebat, ut frater de rebus suis
immobilibus non venderet nisi fratri, propinquus propinquo, nec consors nisi
consorti, si emere vellent. È questo forse il motivo, per cui presso i romani
un heredium potera conservarsi integro nella stessa famiglia per parecchie
generazioni, e un vicus poteva essere costituito per intiero di famiglie
appartenenti alla stessa gens, senza mescolanza di elementi estranei. Cid sarà
meglio dimostrato ove trattasi appunto prietà nel periodo gentilizio >.
della pro -- - - 31 erano stati sotto la patria potestà della stessa persona,
come quelli che avevano formato parte di una medesima casa ed erano usciti
dalla medesima gente. Tuttavia, per ben comprendere il carattere della famiglia
patrizia primitiva, vuolsi sempre aver presente, che essa non è già un
organismo isolato, ma è parte di un organismo maggiore di cui costituisce il
nucleo più ristretto. Diqui la conseguenza che quel potere del padre, che
giuridicamente considerato sembra essere senza confini, trovasi nella realtà
limitato sia dal tribunale domestico, che circonda il capo di famiglia, sia dal
consiglio dei padri, che trovasi nella gente e nella tribù, per guisa che i
temperamenti, che non vi sarebbero nella natura del potere paterno, si
incontrano invece nel costume e nell'organizzazione gerarchica, di cui la
famiglia entra a far parte. È per questo motivo, che tutti gli atti, che
toccano in qualche modo l'organizzazione gentilizia, quali sarebbero
l'adrogatio, che serve a perpetuarla quando manca una prole diretta, il
testamento, che modifica le regole con suetudinarie relative alla successione,
ed anche il matrimonio per confarreatio di uno dei membri della famiglia,
devono essere fatti coll' intervento, colla testimonianza e perfino
coll'approvazione dei capi di famiglia, che entrano a formare la gente e la
tribù; il che ancora appare dalle formalità, che accompagnarono questi atti nei
primitempi di Roma. Intanto è incontrastabile, che anche la successione
legittima e la tutela assumono un carattere del tutto gentilizio, in quanto che
l'una e l'altra, sebbene non stabiliscano delle differenze per causa del sesso
o per causa di primogenitura, mirano però fino all' evidenza a conservare il
patrimonio e l'amministrazione di essa nella [Leg. 195, $ 2 e 196, Dig., De
verb. signif. (50, 16 ): Communi iure, scrive Ulpiano, familiam dicimus omnium
agnatorum, nam, etsi patre familias mortuo, sin guli singulas familias habent,
tamen omnes, qui sub unius potestate fuerunt, recte eiusdem familiae
appellabantur, quia ex eadem domo et gente proditi sunt. Qui viene ad essere
evidente, che la giurisprudenza classica, che non poteva più favorire quella
indivisione che era tanto accetta agli antichi romani, conserva però sempre il
concetto della famiglia degli agnati, non più desumendolo dalla indivisione del
patrimonio famigliare, ma dalla circostanza che gli agnati erano un tempo
dimorati nella stessa casa ed erano stati sotto la patria potestà del medesimo
capo. È da vedersi sull'agnazione l'articolo di SEMERARO, “Enciclopedia
giuridica italiana”, vº “agnazione”, vol. I, parte 2*, pag. 720. 32] linea
agnatizia. Il che può scorgersi ancora nella legislazione decemvirale, la
quale, come si vedrà a suo tempo, in questa parte riusci a far prevalere
pressochè intieramente il sistema di successione e di tutela, che dovevano
essere in vigore presso il patriziato durante il periodo gentilizio. Quanto al
testamento, esso era certamente conosciuto in questo periodo, ma collo spirito
che prevale nell'organizzazione gentilizia si può affermare con certezza, che
esso, dovendo essere fatto coll'approvazione del consiglio degli anziani e
nelle riunioni gentilizie della tribù, anzichè servire qual mezzo per sottrarre
l'eredità alla gente, dovette invece servire per ritardare od impedire la
soverchia divisione dei patrimoni. Intanto è pure da notarsi il carattere
speciale, che assumeva la famiglia primitiva nel periodo gentilizio, in quanto
essa comprende eziandio nella propria cerchia un numero più o meno grande di
servi, che in antico sono anche detti “famuli”, dal vocabolo “famel”, che in
lingua osca significa appunto “servo”; dal quale, secondo Festo, sarebbe anche
derivato l'antico vocabolo “famuletium”, che avrebbe significato servitium. È
infatti per mezzo dei servi, a cui era [Si può ricavare l'importantissima
conseguenza, che a suo tempo servirà a spiegare molte istituzioni del diritto
romano primitivo, che il concetto di comproprietà, in virtù del quale i figli
durante la vita del padre sono comproprietarii dell'heredium, e dopo la morte
di esso in certa guisa eredi di se stessi (“heredes sui”), come pure quello, in
virtù di cui è dal novero degli agnati, che si debbono ricavare i tutori delle
femmine, degli impuberi e dei furiosi, sono tutti concetti, la cui origine
rimonta ed è anzi un effetto della stessa organizzazione gentilizia, di cui la
famiglia entra a far parte. Quanto al testamento fra le genti patrizie non dove
certo essere applicazione del principio: a uti paterfamilias super familia
tutelave suae rei legassit, ita ius esto », ma doveva mirare sopratutto all'”ercto
non cito”. Il testamento esiste, ma nell'intento di serbare il patrimonio
indiviso e di trasmetterlo tale di generazione in generazione. L'importante
concetto di questa comproprietà famigliare già trovasi nettamente espresso in
uno degli ultimi lavori di Dubois, alla cui memoria mando qui un riverente
saluto, nel suo ultimo diligentissimo lavoro col titolo: “La saisine
héréditaire en droit ro main” (Paris) pubblicato nella “Nouvelle revue
historique de droit français et étranger”, ove, combattendo iMaynz ed altri autori,
dimostra che gli eredi suoi erano immediatamente investiti dell'eredità, senza
che occorresse accettazione della medesima e ciò appunto in base a questa
comproprietà famigliare. Al concetto del DuBois è solo da aggiungersi, che cið
era un effetto dell'organizzazione gentilizia prima esistente, idea, che egli
già aveva in germe, come lo dimostrano le parole con cui egli conchiude il suo
lavoro, ma che non ebbe più campo di svolgere. (2) V. Festo, vº Famuli (Bruns,
Fontes, pag. 338 ). 33 affidato il servizio rustico od urbano (familia rustica,
familia urbana) che la famiglia primitiva veniva ad essere organizzata per modo
da bastare a qualsiasi bisogno ed emergenza. Cio diede un carattere speciale
alla vita economica dell'antichità e coopera a dare alla famiglia antica il
carattere di un tutto organico e coerente in tutte le sue parti. La servitù
ebbe per effetto, come ben nota Padelletti, di fare in guisa che i prodotti non
venissero a cambiare di possessore in tutto il corso del loro processo
produttivo, perchè il servo e impiegato non soltanto nella produzione, ma
benanche nella trasformazione e nel trasporto dei prodotti. Per tal modo ogni
famiglia tende a supplire a tutti i suoi bisogni, e intanto ogni capo di
famiglia poteva apparire come possessore difondi, essere ricco di greggi ed
armenti, che costituivano in certo modo il primo capitale, e intanto attendere
eziandio al commercio dei proprii prodotti Puo tuttavia affermarsi con
certezza, che durante il periodo gentilizio le genti patrizie fossero sopratutto
ricche di greggi ed armenti, come lo dimostra l'uso frequentissimo di vocaboli
anche di carattere giuridico de rivanti dall'industria pastorale (quae ex
pecoribus pendent), il che, secondo Festo e Varrone, deriva appunto da cid, che
presso imaggiori le ricchezze ed i patrimoni si componevano sopratutto di
greggi e di armenti (2 ). e (1) PADELLETTI, Storia del dir. rom., pag. 15.
Sull'importanza della servitù nella famiglia primitiva è da vedersi PERNICE, M.
Antistius Labeo, Halle, ove parla dei rapporti degli schiavi colla casa di cui
fanno parte, sopratutto MARQUARDT, Das Privatleben der Römer, Leipzig. Fra
questi vocaboli basti citare quello, che ebbe poi tanta parte nel vocabolario
giuridico, di “agree”, che, secondo BRÉAL, nel suo significato primitivo suo
nava « spingere, stimolare », e si applica sopratutto al gregge; quello di grex
talvolta applicato al popolo; quello di ovilia adoperato per significare i
recinti (septa ) ove il popolo era distribuito per dare il voto nei comizii; i
vocaboli di abgregare, adgregare, congregare citati appunto da Festo come
vocaboli di origine pastorale (Bruns, Fontes, pag. 331); quelli di pecunia, di
peculium, di peculatus, di ager compascuus, e molti altri i quali spiegano come
VARRONE (Bruns, Fontes, p. 388 ) finisca per esclamare. Romanorum populum a
pastoribus esse ortum, quis non dicit? Mulcta etiam nunc, ex vetere instituto,
bubus et ovibus dicitur, et aes anti quissimum, quod est flatum, pecore est
notatum. Si vedrà invece a suo tempo che mentre la ricchezza del patriziato
primitivo consisteva di preferenza in greggi, in mandre ed armenti, che
pascolavano nei compascua della tribù, e poscia nell'ager pubblicus della città,
la plebe invece fin dagli inizii diede sopratutto opera all'agri coltura,
concentrandosi nella coltura del proprio heredium o mancipium. Questo G. CARLE,
Le origini del diritto di Roma. Del resto quello, che qui importa, e sopratutto
di mettere in evidenza il carattere gentilizio della famiglia; poichè essa, fra
le istituzioni anteriori alla comunanza, è certamente quella che conserva più
lungamente il suo carattere primitivo. Quindi anche nel periodo storico si
troveranno nel patriziato romano quelle stesse formalità solenni e quelle
cerimonie religiose, che dovevano accompagnare gli atti relativi alla famiglia
durante il periodo gentilizio. La sola differenza consiste in questo, che
all'approvazione dei padri del gruppo gentilizio nella comunanza civile e
politica sottentrerå - o la testimonianza dei dieci Quiriti che rappresentano
le curie in cui divi devasi la tribù e l'intervento dei Pontefici, siccome
accade nelle confarreatio, - o l'approvazione delle curie, coll'intervento pure
dei Pontefici, siccome accade nella adrogatio e nel testamento, che per il
patriziato verranno a compiersi davanti all'assemblea delle curie, cioè in
calatis comitiis (curiatis). Credo ad ogni modo, che anche questa breve
esposizione dei caratteri della famiglia del patriziato romano dimostri
abbastanza che essa non deve essere riguardata come una istituzione del tutto
primitiva, come alcuni vorrebbero considerarla, in quanto che la medesima già
erasi scostata in parte dalle sue primitive e naturali fattezze, a causa della
influenza, che ebbe ad esercitare su di essa l'organizzazione gentilizia, di
cui e entrata a far parte. Essa in sommanon è più la famiglia, quale dovette
uscire dagli istinti e dalle tendenze naturali del genere umano; ma è già una
famiglia che in parte ha soffocato i naturali affetti onde fortificarsi per la
lotta per l'esistenza e per entrare in un'organizzazione, che funge da associa
zione domestica, religiosa,militare e politica ad un tempo. Ed è anche questa
la ragione, che la renderebbe a noi pressochè incomprensibile, se non fosse
riportata nell'ambiente in cui ebbe a formarsi. svolgimento storico pertanto
conferinerebbe il risultato, a cui giunsero SPENCER ed altri sociologi, secondo
il quale sarebbe stato sopratutto il periodo della vita pastorale, che avrebbe
determinato la formazione e l'afforzamento di quell'organizzazione gentilizia,
che trovasi così profondamente radicata presso il primitivo patriziato romano (V.
SPENCER, Principes de sociologie, Paris). Tale è ad esempio l'opinione del
Sumner Maine, che in questa parte fu com battuto dallo SPENCER. La gens e la
sua importanza per il patriziato di Roma. 28. Se la famiglia, quale comparisce
più tardi nel diritto Quiri tario, riproduce pur sempre i caratteri dell'antica
famiglia patrizia, altrettanto invece non può dirsi della gens, la quale perciò
è assai più difficile a ricostruirsi nelle sue primitive fattezze. Sebbene in
fatti la gens mantengasi ancora lungamente durante la comunanza civile e
politica, viene tuttavia fin dalle origini della convivenza civile e politica,
ad essere sottoposta ad un processo di dissoluzione, in quanto che una parte
delle sue funzioni di un tempo, quelle cioè che avevano un carattere politico o
militare o legisla tivo, finiscono per essere a poco a poco assorbite dalla
città. A cid si aggiunge, che in questa parte la grande autorità di Niebhur,
sulla fede di un testo di Dionisio, a cui diede una interpretazione che non può
essere ammessa, pose gli investigatori della storia primitiva di Roma in un
indirizzo erroneo, in quanto che condusse a cre dere per lungo tempo, che la
gens non fosse che una ripartizione politica della città. Per tal modo
l'organizzazione politica della [NIEBHUR, Histoire romaine, trad. Golbery,
Paris, ove parla: des maisons patriciennes et des curies e specialmente a pag.
19. Ivi l'illustre storico, avendo trovato che Dionisio divideva in dekádec le
curie, pensò che queste decurie non potessero essere che le gentes e trasportò
così l'organizzazione gentilizia nella città, concetto, che d'allora in poi ha
dominato le ricerche contempo ranee intorno a Roma primitiva, per guisa che
occorre pressochè universalmente di trovare che la città di Roma si divideva in
tribù, queste in curie e queste ul time in gentes. Così, ad esempio, anche gli
autori più recenti, pur avendo modifi cato il concetto della gens con ritenerlo
un ampliamento naturale della famiglia, continuano pur sempre in questa
distinzione. Citerò fra gli altri KARLOWA, Röm. R. G., il quale continua ad
essere intitolato: “Das Volk und seine Gliederungen (tribus, curiae, gentes)”,
quasi che il popolo romano sia stato mairipartito in gentes; ed iLeist, Graeco-
Italische R.G. che segue pure la stessa distinzione. Così pure il WILLEMS (“Le
droit public romain,” Paris)che continua ancor esso a dire, che le curie si suddividono
in gentes. Questa distin zione non fu mai accennata dagli antichi scrittori, i
quali soltanto ebbero a dire con Gellio, che i comiziä сuriati si raccoglievano
ex generibus hominum, il che significa solamente, che nella composizione delle
curie si teneva conto della discen denza, mentre invece nei comizii centuriati
si badava al censo e nei tributi alle lo calità. Il populus insomma è ricavato
dalle gentes,ma non fu mai diviso in gentes.] città venne ad essere confusa con
quella patriarcale della gente e i due elementi gentilizio e politico si
confusero per modo che per qualche tempo fu impossibile riuscire a sceverarli,
ed anche oggi si scorgono evidenti, anche in dottissimi scrittori, le
conseguenze di tale confusione. Allora soltanto le indagini furono rimesse in
una via, che poteva condurre a qualche risultato, allorchè gli studii, che si
vennero facendo sul gruppo patriarcale nell'Oriente, dimostrarono che
anteriormente alla città era lungamente durato un altro pe riodo di
organizzazione sociale, che riceveva appunto il suo carat tere fondamentale
dalla gens, la quale, formatasi nell'Oriente, era poi stata trasportata
nell'Occidente tanto dalle stirpi Elleniche, quanto dalle stirpi Italiche (1).
Fu quindi collo studiare il gruppo patriar cale nell'Oriente, ove per
circostanze storiche speciali erasi mante nuto stazionario ed immobile nelle
sue principali fattezze, che si cominciò a comprendere e a ricostruire nel suo
carattere primitivo quella gente, che in Grecia ed in Roma era stata in parte trasfor
mata colla creazione dell'urbs e della civitas. Questo lavoro di ricostruzione
poté per le genti italiche essere agevolato da ciò, che Quanto alle dekádes di
Dionisio, il MUELLER ebbe a dimostrare che esse sono invece una divisione delle
centurie degli equites, al modo stesso, che esse erano pure una divisione del
senato -- MUELLER, Philologus. Si può infatti comprendere che i senatori, che
erano cento prima e trecento dappoi, si dividessero in decurie, e che così pure
si facesse delle tre centurie primitive degli equites, ma non si può veramente
capire come le curie, divisione dei Quiriti, che erano uomini di arme,
potessero suddividersi in gentes, le quali, essendo un ampliamento della fa
miglia, comprendevano maschi e femmine,maggiori e minori di età e così di
seguito. (1) Il merito di aver richiamato l'attenzione sul gruppo patriarcale
presso le stirpi Arie, è da attribuirsi sopratutto al Sumner MAINE, L'ancien
droit, chap. V. La société primitive et l'ancien droit, pag. 107 a 163.
Tuttavia mi pare giustizia il far notare, che il primo che abbia, se non
provata, almeno intuita questa organizzazione patriarcale delle genti primitive
fu sopratutto il nostro Vico, il quale per compro varla ebbe a citare quegli
stessi versi di Omero, in cui parlasi delle istituzioni pri mitive dei Ciclopi
(V. 22, Scienza nuova, ediz. Ferrari, Milano, ove parla dell'economia poetica e
dice che i Polifemi furono i primi padri di famiglia del mondo), dai quali
prende appunto le mosse il SUMNER Maine (pag. 118 ); versi del resto, che già
erano stati citati da Platone nel dia logo delle Leggi, quando voleva appunto
dimostrare che il patriarcato era stata l'organizzazione sociale primitiva non
solo presso i Greci, ma anche presso i Barbari. Plato, Leges, III, Ed. Didot,
Paris, 1848. Del resto che l'organizzazione gentilizia sia stata comune a tutti
gli Arii e quindi anche ai Greci e agli Italici è cosa, che oggidì non forma
più argomento di discussione. (Per maggiori particolari vedi Carle, La vita del
diritto, lib. I e II, e sopratutto a pag. 90 e seg.) i 37 esse più di tutte le
altre stirpi hanno saputo attribuire al gruppo gentilizio quei contorni precisi
e determinati, che solo si rinvengono presso quelle popolazioni, che svolgono
le proprie istituzioni sotto un aspetto essenzialmente giuridico. Di qui la
conseguenza, che, a parer mio, i veri caratteri dell'organizzazione per gentes
possono più facilmente essere trovati nelle poche reliquie delle primitive
genti del Lazio, che non nella stessa India, ove l'elemento religioso
preponderante fini per assorbire e soffocare ogni altro aspetto della vita
primitiva. 29. Intanto questo ormai si può affermare con certezza, che la
gente, anzichè essere una divisione artificiale della città, deve invece es sere
considerata come il perno, intorno a cui si esplica l'organizza zione
gentilizia. Essa è un naturale ampliamento della famiglia pa triarcale, in
quanto che non comprende più soltanto coloro, che dipendono dalla stessa patria
potestà, maabbraccia tutte le famiglie, che, memori dell'antenato comune, da
cui sono discese, non solo ne portano il nome, ma ne professano e perpetuano il
culto. Però oltre questo carattere, che la gens latina ha comune colle genti
Arie, essa ha eziandio un carattere suo peculiare, ancorchè comune forse alle
genti elleniche, il quale consiste in ciò che le gentes sono considerate come
proprie di quelle aggregazioni domestiche, che oltre all'avere uno stipite
comune, sono riuscite a mantenersi perennemente ingenue, immuni cioè da qualsiasi
rapporto di servitù e di clientela. Delle gradazioni del gruppo patriarcale, la
“gens” è quella che possiede elasticità maggiore, perchè talvolta può avere le
proporzioni soltanto di una famiglia, col qual vocabolo infatti è talora
indicata la stessa gens. E talvolta invece può avere già dato origine a tante
pro [Il vocabolo ad esempio di familia è adoperato per significare la “gens”
nel seguente passo di Festo. “Familia antea in liberis hominibus dicebatur,
quorum dux et princeps generis vocabatur pater et materfamilias; unde familia
nobilium Pompiliorum, Valeriorum, Corneliorum (Bruxs, Fontes). Si possono
vederne molti altri esempi nel Voigt (“Die XII Tafeln”, Leipzig). In ciò si ha
una nuova prova che la familia e la gens fanno parte della stessa organizzazione,
per guisa che i due vocaboli si scambiano fra di loro. Mentre è difficile
trovare negli antichi scrittori il vocabolo di familia per indicare il populus,
loro pare invece di essere più esatti, paragonandolo ad un grez e dividendolo
al pari di questo in altrettanti capita. Del resto sono abbastanza noti i
significati molteplici, che ha il vocabolo familia nel diritto primitivo di
Roma, ove significa ora un complesso di persone o 38 paggini diverse da
prendere quasi le proporzioni di una grande e numerosa tribù, come la
tradizione ci narra essere accaduto della gens Claudia, da cui sarebbe
originata la tribù dei Claudienses, e della gens Fabia, le cui proporzioni
pervennero a tale che essa poté colle sole sue forze affrontare, secondo la
tradizione o leggenda che voglia chiamarsi, una impresa militare, che in tristi
circostanze appariva ardua alla intiera città. Non è dubbio tuttavia, che le
popolazioni italiche e sopratutto quelle del Lazio dovettero avere un criterio
per scindere la gens propriamente detta dalla familia in stretto senso e se
fosse lecita una congettura avvalorata da una quantità notevole di indizii, la
stregua dovette essere la seguente. Non vi ha dubbio che i caratteri distintivi
della famiglia primitiva erano due, cioè la patria potestà del suo capo e
l'esistenza di un patrimonio, probabilmente chiamato here dium, che apparteneva
esclusivamente alla famiglia nella persona del proprio capo. Di qui la
conseguenza, che tutti i discendenti nella linea maschile (comprese anche le
femmine non ancora uscite dal gruppo per matrimonio e quelle entrate in esso
per la stessa causa ) che dipendevano da un solo capo costituivano la famiglia
in stretto senso; ma questa poi continuava ancora a mantenersi e a considerarsi
tale, anche dopo la morte del padre, finchè il pa trimonio indiviso di essa
perpetuava in certo modo l'unità fami gliare. Che se invece i fratelli,
dipendenti un tempo dall'autorità di un solo padre, venivano a dividersi il
patrimonio famigliare e a rompere così anche quanto ai beni l'unità primitiva,
in allora venivano ad esservi altrettante famiglie, di cui ciascuna aveva un
proprio capo, ma che tutte facevano parte di una medesima gens, perchè
continuavano ad avere il medesimo nome e il culto comune per il proprio
antenato. La “gens” comincia pertanto quando cessa l'unità indivisa della
famiglia, e quindi nel periodo gentilizio quelli che erano agnati e che come
tali costituivano ancora la famiglia omnium agnatorum, finchè il loro
patrimonio era indiviso, costituivano già il primo grado della gentilità,
allorchè questa divisione era seguita. È di qui che provenne la difficoltà,
ancora non superata, per distin di cose, ora un complesso di persone, ora
soltanto un complesso di cose (fa milia pecuniaque) – ed ora infine il
complesso dei servi (familia rustica ed urbana).] guere gli agnati dai
gentiles, perchè colla divisione del patrimonio gli uni si potevano convertire
negli altri e fu solo posteriormente allorchè diventò più rara questa
indivisione, che si chiamarono agnati tutti coloro, che un tempo si erano
trovati sotto la patria potestà della stessa persona, ai quali si aggiunsero
poi anche quelli, che lo sarebbero stati se il comune capo non fosse premorto.
Non è quindi il caso di dover supporre col Muirhead, che l'ordine degli agnati,
cosi nella successione che nella tutela legittima, sia stata una creazione
artificiale della legislazione decemvirale per provvedere alla successione e
alla tutela dei plebei, che mancavano di genti. Gl’artificii nelle epoche
primitive sono meno frequenti che non si creda, e non si possono supporre che
quando ve ne siano prove dirette, quale è quella, ad esempio, che abbiamo
quanto alla fin zione di postliminio ed altre analoghe. Per contro il gruppo
degli agnati può benissimo essere attribuito ad una formazione spontanea
durante il periodo gentilizio, poichè era cosa naturale, come notd più tardi il
giureconsulto, che l'essere stati un tempo sotto la patria potestà della stessa
persona e l'aver partecipato al godimento dello stesso patrimonio dovesse
distinguere il gruppo degli agnati da quello più remoto dei semplici gentiles,
che solo avevano comune la discen denza da uno stesso antenato, ma che non
avevano mai dimorato nella stessa casa, nè avevano mai formato parte della
stessa famiglia. D'altronde sarebbe veramente strano ed incomprensibile, che la
le gislazione decemvirale avesse dovuto essa creare il concetto degli agnati,
mentre è appunto quest'agnazione, che sta a base delle or ganizzazioni
domestica e gentilizia, le quali certo già esistevano pre cedentemente. C [Che
l'ordine degl’agnati sia stata una creazione della legislazione decemvi. rale,
è uno dei concetti veramente nuovi enunciati dall'illustre autore dell' “Historical
Introduction”. Egli quindi insiste più volte sul medesimo e dopo averlo
accennato a pag. 43 nel testo e nelle note 2 e 3 vi ritorna sopra a pag. 121 e
172 e note relative. Il solo suo argomento però consiste nei due testi di
Ulpiano da lui citati, ove il giureconsulto mentre dice che: lege duodecim
tabularum testamentariae hereditates confirmantur », usa invece, quanto alla
successione legittima, l'espressione che « legitimae hereditatis ius ex lege
duodecim tabularum descendit », espressione che pure adopera altrove quanto
alla tutela legittima. È però evidente, che qui il giureconsulto non parla solo
della successione degli agnati, ma di tutta la succes sione legittima, e quindi
anche degli heredes sui, e dei gentiles, per guisa che, se stesse il
ragionamento del MUIRHEAD, converrebbe dire, che secondo il giureconsulto tutto
il sistema della successione legittima discende dalle XII tavole. E questo ve [La
gente intanto, dopo essere partita dal gruppo degli agnati, che avevano diviso
il patrimonio paterno, poteva poi prendere uno svol gimento grandissimo, in
quanto che essa poteva abbracciare tutte le diramazioni per la linea maschile,
che si staccavano da ciascuno di questi agnati e non cessava mai di costituire
una sola aggregazione gentilizia, finchè tutte le famiglie continuassero ad
avere lo stesso nome e a professare il culto del medesimo antenato. Potevano
perd darsi dei casi, in cui la gente cosi pervenuta ad un numero stragrande di
persone venisse a ripartirsi essa stessa in diramazioni diverse; tuttavia anche
allora il nome primitivo della gens è sempre conservato, ma ciascuna delle
diramazioni prende un proprio agnomen o cognomen, che ne costituisce in certo
modo la caratteri stica, ed è seguendo la serie dei cognomina, che si possono
seguire le propaggini tutte della stessa pianta. Cosi accadde, ad esempio,
della “gens” Claudia, la quale già numerosissima conserva ancora una sola
denominazione, ma che più tardi venne assumendo una quantità di cognomina
diversi, che indicano in certo modo il punto, in cui sopra un unico ceppo
cominciarono ad apparire diramazioni diverse. Lo stesso è a dirsi della “gens”
Cornelia e di molte altre, il che serve, anche a spiegare come nel tempo in cui
anche quella parte della plebe, che già era pervenuta alla nobiltà cerca di
imitare l'organizzazione gentilizia, si veggano delle gentes plebeiae staccarsi
da un fusto patrizio. Ciò infatti deve probabilmente indicare un antico vincolo
di clientela, che stringe l'antenato, da cui parti la formazione della gente
plebea, a gente patrizia. Bastano queste considerazioni per spiegare l'energia
vitale, che ramente fu quello, che volle dire il giureconsulto; poichè furono
appunto le XII tavole, che, nell'intento di appoggiare l'organizzazione
gentilizia, trasportarono di peso la successione legittima esistente nelle
tradizioni patrizie anche alla plebe, nel che può vedersi uno dei motivi, per
cui il cittadino romano, per sottrarsi ad un sistema di successione, che era
disadatto alla città e conduceva all'esclusione di per sone care, credevasi
quasi dimorire disonorato, se moriva senza testamento. Fu quindi tutta la
successione legittima e non soltanto l'ordine degli agnati, che fu creazione
dei decemviri, i quali la tolsero dipeso dell'organizzazione gentilizia; in cui
già eranvi le distinzioni di heredes sui, di agnati e di gentiles, come appare
dal fatto, che tutta l'organizzazione gentilizia è fondata sull'agnazione, il
che è pure ammesso dal MUIRHEAD. Ciò del resto sarà meglio comprovato quando si
tornerà sul gravissimo argomento, discorrendo della successione legittima in
base alle XII tavole. Quanto all'agnazione e ai caratteri di essa è pure da
vedersi il Voigt (“Die XII Tafeln”) - poteva avere un gruppo, che, ad una
compattezza pressochè uguale a quella della famiglia, accoppiava talvolta il
numero e la forza della tribù, sopratutto allorchè essa era capitanata da
uomini di energia tenace e di propositi costanti, come furono per parecchie
genera zioni quelli, che guidavano la gens Claudia o la gens Valeria, e come in
essa potessero anche perpetuarsi tradizioni diverse, ostili o favorevoli alla
plebe dapprima e poi al partito popolare. È questo carattere della gens, che
spiega la perennità di un numero origi nariamente piccolo di genti patrizie,
malgrado una quantità di influenze, che tendevano a dissolverle e a circoscriverne
l'azione. Così pure deve spiegarsi il fatto che, mentre le tribù primitive, di
fronte alla potenza assorbente della città, finirono per scompa rire fin dal
periodo regio con Servio Tullio, le genti invece per. durarono per parecchi
secoli, sostennero in poche una lotta lunga e pertinace con una plebe, il cui
numero veniva facendosi sempre maggiore, ed anche vinte continuarono sempre a
dare un contri buto larghissimo a quegli onori e a quelle magistrature, che per
secoli erano stati loro privilegio esclusivo, finchè da ultimo anche l'impero fini
per consolidarsi per un certo tempo nei discendenti di antiche genti patrizie,
che si erano imparentate fra di loro. Del resto questa potenza del gruppo
gentilizio fu anche sentita da quella parte della plebe, che mediante
l'ammessione agli onori fini per costituire una nuova nobiltà, come lo dimostra
il fatto, che essa per afforzarsi non trovò mezzo più efficace di quello di
ricorrere al ius imaginum e di imitare cosi una organizzazione, che ormai
trovavasi in decadenza. Intanto i due caratteri fondamentali della gens, quali
si pos sono raccogliere dalle vestigia che ci rimangono delle antiche genti
italiche,malgrado le divergenze, che possono esistere nella descrizione dei
particolari minuti, si riducono essenzialmente ai seguenti, cioè, primo, alla
discendenza da un antenato comune, la quale rivelasi nel nome, nel culto, e nel
sepolcro comune; secondo, ed alla ingenuità perenne dei membri, che entrano a
costituirla, per modo che essa deve essersi ser bata immune da qualsiasi
mescolanza con persone di origine servile. Il primo di questi caratteri è
quello che costituisce la forza, la compattezza e la perennità
dell'organizzazione gentilizia, ed il se condo, che il pontefice Q. Muzio SCEVOLA
volle si aggiungesse alla deffinizione dei gentiles serbataci da Cicerone, è
quello che spiega la superiorità delle genti patrizie di fronte alla plebe.
Esse avevano attraversato un lungo periodo di lotta e di privata violenza
vincitrici sempre e non vinte mai, e quindi la loro gentilitas era indizio, che
esse appartenevano alla classe dei vincitori, il cui sangue non erasi mai
mescolato con quello dei vinti, dei servi e dei clienti, donde la conseguenza
eziandio, che il vocabolo patricii in sostanza non significava che gli ingenui,
il quale ultimo vocabolo allude ap punto alla niuna mescolanza del loro sangue
con quello servile. Questi due caratteri sono dimostrati anzitutto dalle varie
diffinizioni della gens stateci trasmesse da Varrone, da Festo, da Isidoro e da
altri, le quali accennano tutte alla discendenza dei gentili da un antenato
comune, e da quella anche di Cicerone, il quale, parlando di un nome comune – “qui
inter se codem nomine sunt” -- non esclude certamente, ma conferma il carattere
della comune discendenza e in tanto vi aggiunge quello della ingenuità non
interrotta dei gentiles. Questa del resto è pur confermata da ciò, che la plebe
stessa nelle sue discussioni coi patrizii se non ammetteva la loro discendenza
dal divino riconosce però, che il vocabolo “Patrizio” nelle sue origini
significa “ingenuo”. Di qui intanto si comprende come dapprima il patrizio e
poscia tutti i cittadini romani avessero *tre* appellazioni. La prima – “prae-nomen”
-- indicava l'individuo. L’altra e il vero nome – “nomen” -- designa la gente, a cui egli appartene in
quanto la gente e in certo modo il gruppo che contene le diverse famiglie. La
terza infine – “cognomen” – designa la famiglia, in quanto questa era una
particolare diramazione, della gente. A queste appellazioni si potevano poi
anche aggiungere (1) Festus, vo Gentilis: « Gentilis dicitur ex eodem genere
natus, et is qui simili nomine appellatur ». Bruns, Fontes; VARRO, De lingua Latina.
“Ut in hominibus quaedam sunt agnationes ac gentilitates, sic in verbis; ut
enim ab Aemilio homines horti Aemilii ac gentiles, sic ab Aemilio nomine
declinatae gen tilitates nominales.” Bruns, Fontes, Isidoro. “Gens est
multitudo ab uno principio orta, appellata propter generationes familiarum, id
est a gi gnendo uti natio a nascendo.” Bruns; CICERO, Top. “Gentiles sunt qui
inter se eodem nomine sunt.” “Qui ab ingenuis oriundi sunt.” “Quorum maiorum
nemo servitutem servivit.” “Qui capite non sunt deminuti.” V. anche Livio. Per
ciò che si riferisce ai nomi romani è da vedersi il MICHEL, “Du droit de cité
romaine” (Paris), e sopratutto la trattazione veramente magistrale del
MarQUARDT, “Das Privatleben der Römer,” che nota come vi fossero gruppi, che
non avevano cognomen, come gli Antonië, i Duilii, i Flaminii ecc. Quanto agl’esempi
citati nel testo a pag.40, è pare a vedersi Bonghi, “Storia di Roma”, “Appendice
sulle primitive genti patrizie”, nella parte, che si riferisce alla gens
Claudia e Cornelia] uno o più soprannomi – “agnomina” -- che servivano a
contraddistinguere l'individuo stesso o per essere egli stato adottato da altra
famiglia, o per impresa da lui compiuta, o per indicare le suddistinzioni
operatesi nella stessa famiglia. Può darsi che in antico potesse esservi anche
qualche indicazione della località abitata dalla gente, a cui apparteneva
l'individuo, come lo dimostrano i soprannomi di “Regillensis”, “Collatinus,” e
simili. Di questo si ha un indizio nel fatto, che allora quando il territorio
di Roma e veramente distribuito in tribù locali, anche la indicazione della
tribù comparve a completare le denominazioni del cittadino romano, e precedette
anzi il soprannome suo particolare. Del resto, questi caratteri particolari
della “gens” sono anche comprovati dalla radice “gen,” comune alla “gens”
latina e al “genos” dei greci, che significa “generare” e produrre; come pure
da ciò, che i nomi gentilizii sono nomi di persona piuttostochè di luoghi, e
che i diritti gentilizii, come il ius hereditatis, il ius curae, il ius
sepulchri sono di carattere eminentemente privato. Così è pure dei sacra
gentilicia, i quali da Festo sono annoverati fra i sacra privata, che sono a
spese delle singole genti, e contrapposti ai sacra pubblica, che si compiono
invece a pubbliche spese. Solo sembra far eccezione il ius decretorum. Ma
oltrecchè questo diritto sembra nel periodo storico esercitarsi di preferenza
in cose d'ordine privato, il medesimo puo facilmente essere spiegato quando si
consideri, che la genteha compiuto un tempo funzioni politiche, che non puo
scomparire di un tratto anche colla formazione di Roma. Tali sono le
appellazioni di Publius Cornelius Scipio Aemilianus, di Lucius Cornelius Scipio
Asiaticus, di Publius Cornelius Lentulus Spinther, ecc. V. Mar QUARDT. VARRO,
De ling. lat. “In hoc ipso analogia non est, quod alii no mina habent ab
oppidis, alii aut non habent, aut non, ut debent, habent.” BRUNS. FESTUS, p
Publica: “Publica sacra, quae publico sumptu pro populo fiunt, quaeque pro
montibus, pagis, curiis, sacellis, et privata, quae pro singulis hominibus,
familiis, gentibus fiun.” Bruns. I casi ricordati dalla storia, in cui le
gentes si sarebbero valse del ius decretorum, sarebbero i seguenti. La gens
Fabia vieta ai suoi membri il celibato e la esposizione degl’infanti (Dionisio).
La gens Manlia proscrive il prenome di Marcus (Livio). Affine, la gens Claudia proscrive
il prenome di Lucius (Svet., Lib. I), che ri chiamavano per esse tristi
ricordi. Più tardi però e il Senato, che prende simili provvedimenti, vietando
il prenome di Marcus agl’Antonië (Plut., Cic., 19), e quello [È invece assai
più difficile l'argomentare quale potesse essere l'organizzazione interna della
gens da quelle poche traccie, che ne rimangono nel periodo storico. Non si può
anzitutto accertare, se la gens ha sempre e costantemente un proprio capo – “princeps
gentis” --, o se il medesimo invece fosse eletto dal consiglio dei padri o
indicato dall'anzianità di nascita, solo allorchè trattavasi di qualche impresa
da compiere, come quando, ad esempio, Atto Clauso abbandona Regillo per recarsi
a Roma. Questo però è certo, che la gente dove avere un consiglio di anziani o
di padri, che raccoglieva in sè la somma dei poteri, e conserva e trasmetteva
le tradizioni della gente. Era nel suo seno, che si sceglievano gli arbitri e
gli amichevoli compositori delle controversie, che potevano sorgere fra i varii
capi di famiglia, che appartenevano alla medesima gente. Era questo consiglio
parimenti, che sull’ “ager gentilicius” fa degli assegni di terre ai clienti,
ed attribuie gl’ “Heredia” alle nuove famiglie che si formavano nel seno
della gente. E il medesimo ancora, che poteva richiedere il servizio militare
non solo dei suoi membri – “gentiles” -- ma anche dei dipendenti da essa – “gentilicii”.
Cosi pure era questo consiglio, che sovra intende alla condotta dei singoli
capi di famiglia, prevenne e reprime l’abuso dell'autorità domestica, ed impede
eziandio che i capi di famiglia, contro il buon costume della gente,
disperdessero quei beni – “bona paterna avitaque” -- di cui in certo modo erano
custodi nel l'interesse proprio e della famiglia e che, potendo, dovevano
trasmettere ai proprii eredi. E la gente infine che, in mancanza di prossimi
agnati, e chiamata a succedere al capo di famiglia morto senza eredi suoi, e
che dove perciò anche provvedere alla tutela perpetua delle femmine e a quella
dei figli, che fossero rimasti or di Cnaeus ai Calpurnii Pisones (Tacito). Parteno
eziandio dalla gens i provvedimenti, che riguardavano la sepoltura. È da
vedersi in proposito l'opera di Henri DANIEL LACOMBE, “Le droit funéraire à
Rome” (Paris), dove dice che la gens conserva il suo sepolcro gentilizio,
finchè si mantenne la sua organizzazione e l'unione stretta fra i suoi membri,
cioè fin sotto il principato. E allora che incominciano i sepolcri di famiglia
od ereditarii. Secondo quest'autore, mentre i liberti partecipavano ai sacra
gentilicia, e quindi probabilmente anche al sepulchrum gentilicium, essi invece
erano esclusi del sepolcro della famiglia, al quale hanno diritto soltanto gl’agnati.
In proposito del princeps gentis o magister gentis è da vedersi Voigt, “Die XII
Tafeln,” ove parla dei poteri al medesimo spettanti.] fani prima di essere
pervenuti alla pubertà, come pure doveva essere essa, che facevasi vindice
delle offese, che fossero recate ad alcuno dei membri che entravano a
costituirla. Da ultimo, fra i membri della gente esiste l'obbligo della
reciproca assistenza, per cui dovevano essere alimentati se indigenti,
riscattati se prigionieri, sostenuti nelle loro controversie, e vendicati se
fossero stati uccisi od ingiuriati. Se a tutto ciò si aggiunga il vincolo del
nome, quello del culto, e quello del sepolcro, e facile il comprendere come un
gruppo così intimamente connesso, unito nel passato e nell'avvenire, in vita e
dopo la morte, nelle cose divine ed umane non potesse essere facilmente
distrutto dalle influenze contrarie che si vennero svolgendo nella città. Esso
continua, durante il periodo storico, ad avere una quantità di istituzioni
tutte sue proprie, come lo dimostrano i vocaboli di “gentilis” e di “gentilicius”,
l'esistenza anche nel periodo storico di un “ager gentilicius”, quelli dei “sacra
gentilicia”, del “sepulchrum gentilicium”, per modo che, anche prima del
formarsi di Roma, dove svolgersi tutto un “ius gentilicium”, che governa
appunto i rapporti fra le varie persone, che entravano a costituire il gruppo
gentilizio. Esso quindi non deve confondersi col “ius gentilitatis”, che indica
il complesso dei diritti spettanti ai gentiles, al modo stesso che il “ius
civitatis” indica i diritti spettanti al civis. Così pure non può esservi
dubbio, che il vocabolo di “iura gentium”, che poscia ebbe a prendere un così
largo svolgimento, dove nascere già in questo periodo per indicare appunto i
rapporti, che intercedevano fra le varie genti e i capi delle medesime. Quanto
ai poteri della gens, tanto sui gentiles quanto sui gentilicii, è a vedersi
Voigt, “Die XII Tafeln”. La bibliografia copiosissima intorno alla gens può
vedersi nel BOUCHÉ-LECLERCQ, “Institutions romaines”, come pure nel WILLEMS, “Le
droit public romain”. Fra gli autori che tentarono la “ri-costruzione” del “ius
gentilicium”, sono a vedersi sopratutto KARLOWA, Römische R. G., MUIRHEAD,
Histor. Introd. Parmi tuttavia importante il distinguere il “ius gentilicium”,
che comprende anche i rapporti fra la classe superiore dei gentiles e quella
dei dipendenti da essi o gentilici, il “ius gentilitatis” che significa il
complesso dei diritti spettanti ai membri di una stessa gente (gentiles), e i “iura
gentium”, che governano i rapporti fra le varie gentes. Fra gl’istituti di
questo “ius gentilicium”, quello che più merita di essere preso in
considerazione è certo quello della clientela, essendo essa una delle cause del
numero e dell'importanza, a cui giunsero i gruppi gentilizii. I clienti,
durante il periodo storico, costituiscono una classe inferiore di persone, che
appare vincolata al patriziato da certe obbligazioni di carattere ereditario,
in contraccambio della protezione e difesa che esso gli accorda. Le due
persone, fra cui intercede questo vincolo ereditario, sono indicate coi
vocaboli di patrono e di cliente, il quale ultimo vocabolo, secondo l'opinione
ora generalmente adottata, deriva da “cluere”, che significa audire nel senso
di essere obbediente. Come tali, i clienti entrano a far parte della gente, a
cui appartiene il loro patrono, ma non assumono perciò la quantità di gentiles.
Ma quella soltanto di gentilicii e costituiscono cosi nel gruppo gentilizio una
classe di uomini, di condizione inferiore, che in una posizione già alquanto
migliorata corrisponde all'ordine dei servi e dei famuli in seno
dell'organizzazione domestica. Il servo e il famulo non partecipano al ius
gentilitatis, ma sono sotto la tutela del ius gentilicium. È Dionisio quegli,
che ci ha conservato l'enumerzione più particolareggiata delle obbligazioni e
dei diritti, che intercedono fra il patrono ed il cliente, attribuendo
l'istituto della clien [Willems, “Le droit public romain” -- Non potrei però
convenire in ciò, che Willems considera i clienti come una classe speciale di
cittadini di diritto inferiore, perchè la clientela in ogni tempo e sempre
considerata come un rapporto di diritto privato e non mai come un rapporto di
diritto pubblico, che basta ad attribuire da solo la qualità di cittadino. I
clienti poterono poi avere tale qualità quando hanno degli assegni in terre dal
proprio patrono, mediante cui poterono figurare nel censo, ma non si capisce
come potessero essere considerati come cittadini e avere il diritto di
suffragio persone, le quali non potevano nep far valere direttamente le proprie
ragioni in giudizio, ma abbisognano perciò del patrono. Questa è ancora sempre
una conseguenza della confusione fra l'organizzazione gentilizia e
l'organizzazione politica. BRÉAL, Dict. étym. lat., vo Clueo. Cfr. MUIRHEAD,
Encyclopedia Britannica, vº Patron and client] -- tela allo stesso Romolo. Ma
egli è evidente, che anche la sua descrizione già altera alquanto le fattezze
della clientela, stante lo sforzo fatto per trasportare nella convivenza civile
e politica un'istituzione, che ee ata e si era svolta nell'organizzazione
gentilizia. Secondo Dionisio, il cliente ha delle obbligazioni, nelle quali si
può scorgere un carattere, che noi chiameremmo semi-feudale. Il cliente infatti
deve al patrono riverenza e rispetto; deve accompagnarlo alla guerra;
soccorrerlo pecuniariamente in certe occasioni, come nel caso di matrimonio
delle proprie figlie, e di riscatto di sè e dei figli se siano prigionieri,
come pure deve concorrere con lui a sostenere le spese di giustizia, ed anche
quelle dei sacra gentilicia. Ciò tutto fa credere, che i clienti ottenessero
dai loro patroni delle terre a titolo di precario, dalla cui coltura potevano
ricavare dei proventi che loro appartenevano, e che le terre loro assegnate
facevano parte dell' “ager gentilicius”, proprietà collettiva della gente; il
che non rende esatta, ma spiega l'etimologia as segnata al vocabolo di
clientes, che si dicevano così chiamati “quasi colentes”, perché avrebbero
coltivate le terre dei padri. Infine, Dionisio parla perfino dell'obbligazione
del cliente di non poter votare contro il patrono, la quale dimostrerebbe come
la clientela, adatta al gruppo gentilizio, venne ad essere un'istituzione
ripugnante al carattere di una comunanza civile e politica. Alla sua volta poi
il patrono dove al cliente protezione e difesa, e quindi e tenuto a provvederlo
diciò, che fosse necessario per il sostentamento di lui e della sua famiglia,
il che facevasi mediante concessione di terre, che il cliente coltiva per suo
conto. Esso dove di più assisterlo nelle sue transazioni con altre persone,
rappresentarlo in giudizio, apprendergli il diritto – “clienti promere iura” --
, ottenergli risarcimento per le ingiurie patite, averlo in certo [È Servius,
In Aeneidem, 6, 609, che vuol derivare il vocabolo di “clients” da “quasi
colentes”. “Si enim clientes quasi colentes sunt, patroni quasi patres,
tantundem est clientem quantum filium fallere.” (Bruns). Parmi tuttavia che,
tenendo conto del contesto della frase di Servio, qui il vocabolo quasi
colentes non accenni tanto al coltivare le terre, quanto piuttosto
all'osservanza ed alla riverenza del cliente verso il patrono, per guisa che
anche l'etimologia di Servio confermerebbe quella oggidì adottata. Questo passo
di Dionisio, in cui egli riporta le obligazioni rispettive del patrono e del
cliente, attribuendo in certo modo l'origine della clientela a Romolo, è
riportato dal Bruns, Fontes] modo in considerazione di membro della gente,
ancorchè in condizione inferiore, in quanto che nella gerarchia gentilizia il
cliente venne bensì dopo gl’agnati, ma era prima dei cognati e degli affini, i
quali appartenevano ad un altro gruppo. Questi obblighi poi scambievoli, in
mancanza di sanzione giuridica, sono collocati sotto la protezione del “fas”
come lo dimostra la legislazione posteriore di Le XII Tavole, la quale,
sanzionando un obbligazione certo preesistente, ebbe a stabilire – “si patronus
clienti fraudem fecerit, sacer esto” -- ed al pari di tutti gli altri rapporti
gentilizii hanno un carattere ereditario. Infine, siccome patrono e cliente
appartengono entrambi allo stesso gruppo gentilizio, ancorchè in posizione
diversa, cosi Dionisio va fino a dire, che essi non possono proseguirsi
reciprocamente in giudizio, condizione anche questa, che, consentanea al
carattere dell'organizzazione gentilizia, ripugna invece a quello della
convivenza civile e politica, ove ognuno deve avere il mezzo di poter far
valere le proprie ragioni davanti ad un'autorità, che accorda a tutti la
propria protezione. Basta questa esposizione per dimostrare, come la clientela e
un istituto nato e svolto nell'organizzazione gentilizia prima esistente, che
continua ancora per qualche tempo a produrre i proprii effetti a Roma, ove
tuttavia si trova compiutamente disadatto, perchè ripugna a quell'uguaglianza
di posizione giuridica, che deve esservi fra coloro, che partecipano alla
medesima cittadinanza. Essa quindi era destinata necessariamente a scomparire o
quanto meno a trasformarsi, in quanto che nella città le persone, che trovansi
in condizione inferiore, possono essere aggruppate nella plebe e fare a meno
della protezione del patrono, essendovi un'altra autorità che li tutela. Di qui
la conseguenza, che la clientela potè ancora mantenersi finchè i due ordini in
lotta fra di loro si [MASURIUS SABINUS – “In officiis apud maiores ita
observatum est.” “Primum tutelae, deinde hospiti, deinde clienti, tum cognato,
postea adfini.” HUSCHKE, Jurisp. ante-iust. quae sup. -- Aulo Gellio invece
accenna ad un'altra opinione, che dà la preferenza al cliente sull'ospite.
Noct. Att., V, 13. Che poi il cliente entri in certo modo a far parte della
famiglia è affermato da Festus, vº Patronus. « Patronus a patre cur ab antiquis
dictus sit, manifestum; ut quia ut liberi, sic etiam clientes numerari inter
domesticos quodammodo possunt >; Bruns. Cfr. Karlowa, Römische R. G.,
attenneno ancora strettamente alla propria organizzazione e rappresentano in
certo modo due elementi fra di loro contrapposti nella medesima Roma. Ma dopo
il pareggiamento invece dei due ordini, la clientela riusce solo più a
mantenersi di nome, anzichè di fatto. Senza più importare quegli obblighi di
carattere religioso ed ereditario, che ne conseguivano un tempo. I clientes si
scambiarono cosi in semplici aderenti, che accompagnavano il patrizio od anche
l' “homo novus” nella piazza e nel foro e ne costituivano in certo modo il
corteo, e diventarono anche semplici salutatores; il che tuttavia non tolse,
che il vocabolo “cliente” sopravvive alla istituzione da esso indicata, e
rimanesse ad indicare il rapporto di colui che si affida al patrocinio legale
di un'altra persona, ricordando così uno dei primitivi uffici, che il patrono ha
certamente avuto verso il proprio cliente. Tuttavia, anche dopo il
pareggiamento dei due ordini, allorchè la vera clientela già scompare nei
rapporti fra i cittadini romani. Noi la vediamo sopravvivere nei rapporti dei
cittadini romani colle altre genti, in quanto che trovansi le traccie di un ius
applicationis, la cui origine rimonta alle tradizioni gentilizie, col quale un
individuo, un municipio, un re od un popolo straniero ricorrevano al patronato
di un cittadino romano per far valere o avanti al Senato o davanti ai
magistrati di Roma ragioni e diritti che essi non sarebbero stati in caso di
far riconoscere. Così pure nell'interno di Roma, la clientela, ancorchè
scomparsa come istituzione giuridica, continua pur sempre ad esercitare una
grandissima influenza sopratutto nel periodo dell’elezione -- nel quale tutte
le aderenze si mettono in movimento e quindi anche quelle che ricordano uno
stato di cose ormai scomparso. Accenna al ius applicationis CICERONE, De orat.
ma sembra che già ai suoi tempi fosse assai oscuro il carattere di questa
istituzione. Sonvi però autori, che, come MISPOULET, vorrebbero scorgere
nelmedesimo la forma contrattuale della clientela. “Les institutions politiques
de Rome” (Paris). In ogni caso converrebbe pur sempre dire, che il ius
applicationis poteva essere la forma, che riveste il rapporto della clientela
nell'epoca romana, ma non si potrebbe affer mare altrettanto dell'epoca
gentilizia. Le formole epigrafiche, da Mispoulet citate in nota, si riferiscono
alla così detta pubblica clientela, che era già stata creata a somiglianza di
quella prima esistente. Del resto punto non ripugna, che anche la clientela
potesse assumere un carattere contrattuale e che la formola di essa puo anche
essere analoga a quella ricostrutta da Voigt. “Te mihi patronum capio. At ego
suscipio poichè noi troviamo qualcosa di analogo anche nella deditio”. C. “Le
origini del diritto di Roma”. Quanto alla clientela, e sopratutto disputata ed
ha veramente grande importanza la questione intorno alla origine di essa. Si è
sostenuto in proposito che i clienti fossero i primi plebei stati ripartiti da
Romolo sotto il patronato dei patrizii; che essi fossero i primi abitanti del
Lazio ridotti a vassalli; che fossero gl’immigranti in Roma in seguito
all'asilo aperto da Romolo; che essi infine fossero antichi servi manomessi, la
quale opinione, posta innanzi da Mommsen, si appoggerebbe sull'analogia, che
corre fra gl’obblighi primitivi del cliente verso il patrono e quelli che
ancora si mantengono durante il periodo storico a carico dei *liberti* verso il
patrono. Di queste varie opinioni, quella che andrebbe a sorprendere la
clientela nella sua prima formazione e che sembra essere più con sentanea al
carattere dell'organizzazione gentilizia è l'opinione soste nuta da Mommsen,
per cui i primi clienti della gente sarebbero stati i servi, i quali, manomessi
dopo un lungo e fedele servizio nel seno della famiglia, sarebbero diventati
clienti nel seno della gente, a cui appartene il proprio patrono. Ciò e non
solo naturale, ma indispensabile nell'organizzazione gentilizia in quanto che,
se cosi non e stato, i servi manomessi si sarebbero trovati abbandonati a se
stessi e staccati da quel gruppo, al di fuori del quale non poteva esservi
protezione giuridica, finchè non fu costituita una vera autorità civile e
politica. Si aggiunge che l'organizzazione gentilizia è una formazione naturale
e spontanea, che cerca in ogni suo stadio di bastare a se stessa, e tende così
a ricavare dal proprio seno tutti i suoi successivi sviluppi. Viene quindi ad
essere naturale e serve anche a dare una certa elasticità ai varii gruppi
gentilizii e a permettere il passaggio da uno ad un altro la costumanza per cui
coloro, che erano stati famuli o servi nella famiglia, potessero essere accolti
come clienti o gentilicii nella gente. La clientela in tal modo venne a
costituire una condizione relativamente più elevata a cui poteva aspirare il servo,
e si comprende eziandio come la sua co-abitazione in una famiglia potesse da
una parte disporre la gente a renderlo partecipe del culto e del sepolcro
gentilizio, mentre dall'altra la sua fedeltà ed obbedienza nella qualità di
servo e preparazione all'ossequio ed alla riverenza del cliente, L'esposizione
più particolareggiata delle varie opinioni, colla indicazione degli autori, che
ebbero a professarle, occorre nel.WILLEMS, “Le droit public Romain”, e nel
Borché-LECLERC, “Instit. Rom.” È in questo senso che il concetto del Mommsen
può essere accettato. Ma il medesimo vuol essere reso compiuto col ritenere che
qui dovette verificarsi un processo, che è comune a tutte le istituzioni, per
cui, una volta creata la configurazione giuridica della clientela per mezzo di
elementi usciti dal seno stesso dell'organizzazione gentilizia, si poterono poi
fare entrare in essa tutti coloro, che essendosi per qualsiasi causa staccati
da un gruppo abbisognavano di collegarsi ad un altro e di mettersi sotto la
protezione o difesa di esso. Come quindi e naturale, che il servo affrancato
dal capo di famiglia divenne cliente della gente a cui esso appartene, così
dovette pure essere naturale, che una volta creato il rapporto religioso,
giuridico ed ereditario della clientela e compresi nella medesima anche gli
immigranti, che si rifugiano presso la gente, vincolandosi mediante il ius
applicationis ad uno dei membri di essa, che ne diventava il patrono. Quelli,
che per un diritto di guerra universalmente riconosciuto fra le varie genti,
essendo posti nella condizione di dediticii, venivano ad esser privi di
religione, di territorio, e di mezzi di sussistenza. Quelli, che erano
soggiogati e vinti da una gente o tribù, che sopravveniva e si imponeva nel
sito da essi occupato. Quelli che, fermata la propria sede accanto ad uno
stabilimento di casate patrizie, ne ottenevano concessioni di terra e
riconoscevano così il patronato delle medesime. Tutti quelli insomma, che in
un'epoca di lotta e di violenza cercano protezione e difesa presso la gente, e
che questa, per affinità di stirpe o per altro motivo, riteneva di poter
accogliere nella comunanza gentilizia, assegnando pero ai medesimi una
posizione subordinate. Cio intanto dimostra come la clientela e una istituzione
indispensabile in questo periodo di organizzazione sociale. Serve ad
incorporare nel gruppo gentilizio persone, che altrimenti si sarebbero trovate
nell'isolamento e percio prive di diritto, e quindi, mentre da una parte
accresce il numero e la forza delle genti, dall'altra procura al cliente una
protezione giuridica, di cui e stato altrimenti privato. In questo senso non è
certamente [Questa più larga estensione data all'origine della clientela, che,
senza escludere l'opinione di Mommsen, la comprende, sembra essere giustificata
dal seguente passo di Gellio: “Clientes, qui in fidem patrociniumque nostrum
sese dediderunt”] destituita di fondamento la potente intuizione del nostro
Vico. Vico ritenne che la clientela o come egli la chiama il “famulato” e un
mezzo indispensabile per giungere al governo civile, in quanto che essa e il
primo mezzo,mediante il quale individui e famiglie di origine diversa poterono,
coll'accettare una posizione dipendente e subordinata, essere aggregate ad un
gruppo, a cui non apparteneno per nascita, senza tuttavia essere assorbiti
intieramente nel gruppo stesso nella qualità di famuli e di servi. Non può quindi essere accolta l'opinione di
coloro, che vorrebbero collocare il cliente in una posizione intermedia fra il
servo ed il plebeo, poichè sebbene sia vero che l'uno poteva trasformarsi nel
l'altro, tuttavia la clientela e la plebe sono istituti, che compariscono in
stadii diversi dell'organizzazione sociale. Mentre la clientela appartiene
ancora totalmente all'organizzazione gentilizia, il comparire invece della
plebe segna già l'iniziarsi della vita civile e politica in seno della tribù,
donde la conseguenza che la città formandosi soffoca la clientela, mentre verrà
invece a somministrare il terreno, sovra cui la plebe potrà dispiegare la
propria attività ed energia. Al disopra della gens compare infine nella
organizzazione delle genti italiche un'aggregazione più vasta, che è quella
della TRIBU, come lo dimostra il fatto, che, secondo la tradizione, sarebbe dal
confederarsi delle tribù dei Ramnenses, dei Titienses e dei Luceres, che
sarebbe uscita Roma, allorchè essa cesso di essere il primitivo stabilimento
romuleo. La tribù tuttavia, delle istituzioni anteriori a Roma, è certo la più
difficile a ricostruirsi nelle sue primitive fattezze. Siccome infatti essa,
per le funzioni esercitate, e tra le varie aggregazioni quella, che più si
accosta Roma, così è anche quella, che per la prima e assorbita dalla medesima,
per modo che il nome stesso delle tre tribù primitive di Roma sarebbesi forse
perduto, se non l'avesse [Vico, Scienza nuova, Lib. II. – “Della famiglia dei
famoli innanzi delle città, senza la quale non potevano affatto nascere le
città” – Milano] conservato la curiosità investigatrice di qualche antiquario,
e non ne fossero rimaste le vestigia nelle VI centurie degli equites -- VI
suffragia -- composte dei Ramnenses, Titienses e Luceres primi et secondi. Gli
è perciò che come e assai difficile il discernere la gente dall'aggregazione
più ristretta dalla famiglia, cosi non è meno difficile il constatare in qual
modo alle genti venga a sovrapporsi la tribù e come, riunendosi le prime, venga
ad apparire la seconda. Di questo pero possiamo essere certi, che le tribù
primitive di Roma risultavano composte da una aggregazione di genti, le quali
si venivano raggruppando intorno al capo di una gente prevalente fra tutte le
altre, da cui desumevano il loro nome complessivo, il quale percio e ricavato
dalla persona che guida la tribù, più che dal luogo, ove questa era stabilita.
Così, per arrestarsi alle due tribù primitive, la cui origine è meglio
accertata, si può essere certi, che la tribù dei “Ramnenses” rica il proprio
nome complessivo da “Romolo” *e* da “Remo”, che sono a capo di essa, secondo la
tradizione. Il che è pure di quella dei “Titienses”, il cui nome deriva da Tito
Tazio, capo della tribù sabina, stabilita sul Quirinale. Nel che è anche a
notarsi, che il nome della tribù viene ad essere composto in guisa diversa da
quello della gens, per guisa che mentre parlasi di una gens “Romilia”, “Titia”
è “Claudia”, le tribù invece vengono ad essere dei Ramnes o Ramnenses, dei
Tities o Titienses, e dei Claudienses. Di qui pud indursi, che la [Non mancano
negli autori delle trattazioni anche relativamente alla tribù; ma di regola
essa suol essere considerata come una ripartizione della città, nè cer casi di
ricostruire la tribù primitiva, che sola può porgere il mezzo di comprendere la
formazione della città. Tutti però concordano in riconoscere, che altre sono le
tribù primitive, fondate sul vincolo genealogico, ed altre quelle posteriori
introdotte da Servio Tallio, desunte invece dalle località, ove erano
stabilite. Cfr. CARLOWA, “Römische Rechtsgeschichte”. Non può certamente essere
accettata l'etimologia di VARRONE, De ling. lat. (Bruns), il quale vorrebbe in
certa guisa far derivare il nome delle tre tribù dalle tre parti dell'agro, che
sarebbe stato fra esse distribuito. “Ager romanus, primum divisus in partes *tres*,
a quo tribus appellatae Titiensium, Ramnium, Lucerum.” Infatti l'opinione di
Varrone in questa parte è contraddetta da Livio, da Servio, da Dionisio, che
fanno invece derivare il nome delle tre tribù non dalle località, ma dal nome
dei loro capi. È quindi evidente, che qui VARRONE confuse in certo modo le
tribù primitive con quelle di Servio Tullio, come lo dimostra il [tribù
comincia a delinearsi, allorchè viene ad avverarsi un'aggregazione di gentes,
le quali, non essendo più strette dal vincolo della comune discendenza, si
raggruppano intorno al capo della stirpe prevalente fra di esse e mentre
conservano in particolare i proprii nomi gentilizii, assumono in comune un
nome, che desumono dal proprio capo. Questa formazione novella viene poi ad
essere determinata ogni qualvolta un'impresa o spedizione qualsiasi può porgere
occasione a questo aggregarsi delle gentes. Di qui la conseguenza che la tribú
- o può assumere un carattere pressochè militare, come accadde della tribù dei
Ramnenses, che sarebbesi formata fra le genti albane in occasione di una
spedizione di carattere militare, o può invece avere il carattere di una
propria comunanza di villaggio, come era di quella dei Titienses già stabilita
sul Quirinale. Tanto nell'uno quanto nell'altro caso la tribu assume immedia
tamente un carattere religioso, ponendosi sotto la protezione del divino domune
patrono – “dius”, “dius-piter” -- perchè
fra le genti non si puo comprendere un'aggregazione qualsiasi senza un vincolo
religioso che la stringa insieme. Qui intanto l'unificazione del gruppo divenne
indispensabile, anche per l'intento che la tribù si propone di conseguire, e
quindi viene ad accentuarsi assai più che nella gente la figura di un capo, che
prende il nome di “praetor” o di dic. fatto, che egli dopo continua con dire. “Ab
hoc agro quatuor quoque partes urbis tribus dictae ab locis, Suburana,
Palatina, Esquilina, Collina, etc.” Del resto non pud neppure ammettersi, che
occorresse una divisione dell'agro fra le TRE TRIBU, dal momento che ciascuna
continua ad avere il proprio terrritorio, salvo che si tratta, non di una
ripartizione di territorio, ma di una divisione meramente amministrativa, come
dovette appunto essere. Secondo Bouché-LECLERCQ, la cui competenza è
incontrastabile nella parte, che si riferisce alla religione di Roma per i suoi
studii sui pontefici e sull'arte della divinazione, il culto delle tribù de'
Ramnenses sarebbe stato quello di Marte e QUIRINO quello della tribù dei
Titienses sarebbe stato quello di QUIRINO e di Giano. Quello infine della tribù
de' Luceres sarebbe stato quello di Giove, sebbene queste varie divinità
sembrino talvolta confondersi fra di loro, il che accade quanto a Marte e a
Quirino, come pure di Giove e di Giano. Si può aggiungere, che del triplice divino
rimasero ancora le traccie nei tre flaminimaggiori, che sono quelli di Marte,
di QUIRINO e di Giove (Gaius I, 112). Di qui LECLERCQ ricava indizi dei diversi
stadii, che Roma ha a percorrere nella sua formazione progressiva. “Institutions
Romaines”] tator, se la tribù si trova avviata ad una spedizione; di iudex in
tempo di pace; di magister pagi, se trattisi di una comunanza di villaggio già
ferma in un determinato sito; dimeddix, come accadeva presso gl’osci, ed infine
anche di rex, sebbene questo vocabolo, sembri comparire di preferenza quando
trattisi del capo di una città propriamente detta. Tuttavia questo capo suol
essere nella tribù ancora designato di preferenza dalla nascita, che non
dall'elezione; come lo dimostra il fatto, che i due duci della tribù dei
Ramnenses sono entrambi di stirpe regia e per essere *gemelli* debbono
conoscere mediante gli auspicii quale di essi sia chiamato a fondare la città,
o meglio il primo stabilimento romuleo sul Palatino. Quando invece da capo
della tribù dei Ramnenses, Romolo dove già trasformarsi in reggitore della “civitas”,
formatasi mediante la confederazione di varie tribù, in allora, secondo
Dionisio, e già necessaria l'approvazione dei padri e la creazione del Popolo. Però
accanto al capo si mantiene ancor sempre un consiglio, che può continuarsi a
chiamare dei patres, perchè è effettivamente composto dei capi delle singole
genti, e a cui probabilmente già viene data la denominazione di “senatus”.
Infine, nella tribù già può avverarsi la riunione – “comitium” – degl’uomini,
che colle armi – “iuniores” -- o col consiglio – “seniors” -- possono provvedere
alla comune difesa od al comune in teresse; donde la conseguenza, che già nella
stessa tribù può venirsi iniziando il concetto eminentemente concreto ed
organico del “populus”, salvo che gl’elementi per costituirlo si ricano ancora
direttamente dalle varie genti – “ex generibus hominum” -- cosicchè la sua
classificazione continua ancora sempre ad avere un carattere prettamente
gentilizio. Questa naturale formazione
della tribù dimostra, come la medesima corrisponda fra le genti italiche a ciò
che per l'Oriente suol essere indicato col vocabolo di “vîc” o comunanza di
villaggio, e fra I greci col vocabolo di dñuos. Essa costituisce in certo modo [Dion.,
HAUSSOULIER, “La vie municipale en Attique”. Devo però far no tare che, secondo
l'autore, il demos dei Greci sarebbe già una vera associazione civile e
politica e corrisponderebbe alla “curia” e più soventi al “pagus”, sebbene a
mio avviso la curia ed il pagus siano due cose compiutamente diverse. La “curia”,
infatti, è una divisione politica di Roma. Il “pagus” e la località, in cui
dimora la tribus. Crederei quindi più esatto che il demos corrisponda a
quest'ultima.] il più largo sviluppo, a cui pervenne l'organizzazione
patriarcale, perchè mentre il suo elemento costitutivo e il modello, a cui si
in forma, è pur sempre il gruppo gentilizio, da essa pero già si vengono
elaborando quegl’elementi, che, trasportati nella comunanza civile e politica,
finiranno per dare origine ad un rapporto del tutto nuovo, che è quello della “civitas”,
il quale più non dispiegasi nel “pagus” come la “tribù”, ma bensi nell' “urbs”.
Ben si potrebbe osservare contro questo tentativo di “ri-costruzione”
concettuale, che la tribù mal puo essere l'ultimo stadio dell'organizzazione
patriarcale, mentre essa ricompare poi come la prima ripartizione della città;
ma anche ciò può essere facilmente spiegato quando si consideri, che era dalla
tribus, che si sono ricavati i primi elementi, in base a cui si costituie Roma,
come lo dimostrano anche i vocaboli di “tri-bunus”, “tri-butum”, “tri-bunal”, i
quali tutti richiamano la “tribù”, e quindi era conforme al processo
costantemente seguito nelle formazioni italiche, che l'edifizio novello di Roma
si ripartisse nell'interno sul modello degli elementi primitivi, che con
correvano a costituirlo. D'altronde è noto, che le tribù di Servio Tullio hanno
un carattere di preferenza locale e non già genealogico come le tribù primitive.
Intanto, senza volere per ora trattare a fondo dell'origine della plebe, non
sarà inopportuno indicare, che è certamente colla formazione delle tribù, il
cui nucleo è ancor sempre composto di genti patrizie, che può essersi iniziata
la formazione della plebs, essendo naturale che attorno ad uno stabilimento di
genti patrizie, che già riconoscono un capo, si venne formando una comunanza
plebea, che provede al proprio sostentamento, o coltivando terre concesse dalle
genti o dal capo di esse, o esercitando i mestieri e le professioni diverse. Il
bisogno di questo nuovo elemento puo essere sentito dalle stesse genti, per
quanto esse coi loro servi e coi loro client sono organizzate in guisa da poter
bastare da sole a tutte le loro esigenze. Ciò è comprovato eziandio da quelle
Quanto al diverso svolgimento di questi varii elementi in Roma, vedi Carle, “La
vita del diritto nei suoi rapporti colla vita sociale”] come pure: Genesi e
sviluppo delle varie forme di convivenza civile e politica, colle opere ivi
citate. La distinzione è fatta nettamente da Dionisio, il quale chiama la tribù
primitiva “qulai revikai” e quelle di Servio Tullo “qulai totikaí”.antiche
formole, in cui parlasi di populus et plebes, dualismo il quale fa credere che
dovette esservi un tempo, in cui si chiamo populus l'assemblea politica e
militare ricavata dal seno delle genti, secondo il rito e l'ordine prescritto
dalle consuetudini e dalle tradizioni, mentre invece si chiama plebes dapprima
e poscia plebs (da “pleo”, riempire) quella moltitudine ragunaticcia, che dopo
essersi cominciata a formare con clienti rimasti senza patrono e che come tali
venivano ad essere esclusi dal gruppo gentilizio, potè poi una volta formata
accrescersi in guise varie e molteplici. Questo infatti risulta dalla storia
delle istituzioni sociali, che il compito più difficile nella grande povertà
delle idee primitive è la formazione di un nuovo gruppo. Ma quando esso è
formato e corrisponde alle esigenze dei tempi, viene ad essere un potente
richiamo per tutti gl’elementi, che per questo o quel motivo si vengono
staccando dall'organizzazione prima esistente, e che abbandonati a se cercano
un nucleo novello a cui possano aderire. Riassumendo questa lenta e faticosa
ricostruzione dell'organizzazione sociale delle genti Italiche anteriore a Roma,
credo che la medesima abbia abbastanza dimostrato, come l'organizzazione stessa
siasi venuta svolgendo mediante un processo di naturale e spontanea formazione,
costituita in certo modo da altrettanti sedimenti, che si vennero sovrapponendo
l'uno all'altro, in modo pero che gli elementi, che formansi in ciascuno di
essi, subiscono delle trasformazioni allorchè passano in quelli che vengono
dopo. Infatti, anche lasciando in disparte la grave questione della provenienza
delle genti Italiche, è molto probabile, che esse già recassero con sè
l'organizzazione gentilizia, quantunque la medesima non avesse forse assunto
quelle determinazioni precise, che acquisto più tardi. Furono i conflitti delle
genti colle stirpi già stabilite sullo stesso suolo, le lotte fra vincitori e
vinti, e quelle eziandio fra le stesse genti migranti, che presto dimenticarono
la discendenza comune, che produssero un irrigidirsi dei varii gradi
dell'organizzazione gentilizia e condussero alla formazione di una potente aristocrazia
territoriale, militare e religiosa ad un tempo, che attrasse anche i vinti nei
quadri del proprio ordinamento, collocandoli però in una posizione subordinata
a quella dei vincitori. Ne consegui che la famiglia, per rendersi atta a
sostenere i conflitti cogli altri gruppi, si venne concentrando e raggruppando
sotto il potere del proprio capo, il quale sembra quasi perdere l'aureola di
padre per assumere quella di sacerdote, di giudice, di uomo di guerra e di
fondatore di una schiatta destinata a perpetuarsi. Intanto le persone, cheda
lui dipendono, si dividono in liberi o figli e in servi o famuli, due vocaboli
che si contrappongono fra di loro ed indicano due classi di uomini, che
rimarranno distinte per contrassegnare in certo modo la discendenza dei
vincitori e quella dei vinti. Di qui quel carattere eminentemente monarchico
della costituzione della famiglia gentilizia, che tenacemente conservato nella
famiglia quiritaria fini per attribuire alla medesima quella speciale impronta,
che i giureconsulti romani più non ravvisavano nelle istituzioni famigliari
degl’altri popoli. La gente invece continua sempre a ritenere alquanto
dell'elasticità primitiva, nè giunge ad una concentrazione uguale a quella
della famiglia. Ma intanto, memore del culto del proprio antenato, custode
gelosa delle proprie tradizioni, riunita e resa compatta dai comuni pericoli,
accresciuta dai clienti, si cambia anch'essa in una specie di corporazione
potente, che continua ad essere il perno del l'organizzazione gentilizia, e
mentre da una parte tiene unite le famiglie, dall'altra, aggruppandosi con
altre genti, dà origine alla tribù. Intanto però anche in essa continua quel
dualismo, che già erasi rivelato nella famiglia, salvo che i rapporti fra
quelli, che un di furono i vincitori e quelli che furono i vinti, rimettono al
quanto della propria rigidezza, e vengono cosi a trovarsi di fronte i gentiles
ed i gentilicii, i cui rapporti. prendono un carattere pressochè giuridico nel
patronato e nella clientela. Così pure nella gente, accanto all'elemento
monarchico della famiglia, già viene a svolgersi un elemento, che potrebbe
chiamarsi aristocratico, il quale costituisce un consiglio degl’anziani, che
concentra in sè medesimo le principali funzioni, che appartengono alla gente.
Da ultimo, nella tribu havvi pur sempre un'aggregazione di genti, ma intanto
fra le medesime già distinguesi una gente, che predomina su tutte le altre e
viene così ad essere ritenuta come di stirpe regia. Di qui la conseguenza, che
in essa compare la figura di un capo, che è il principe della gente, che
predomina su tutte le altre, conservasi il consiglio degl’anziani, che già
mutasi in senato, perchè è già composto dei capi di genti diverse, ma intanto
aggiungesi l'elemento democratico o popolare, che componesi di tutti gl’uomini,
che, ricavati dalle varie genti, possono valere come uomini di armi o come
uomini di consiglio. Cio però non toglie, che continui sempre il dualismo, che
già esi steva negli altri gruppi in quanto che accanto al popolo formasi la
plebe, la quale trovasi dapprima al di fuori della comunanza gentilizia e ha
percio più un'esistenza di fatto, che non un'esistenza di diritto. Essa è
dapprima riguardata con disprezzo dal patriziato, perchè esce dai quadri
consacrati dalla religione e dal diritto delle genti. Ma cio non toglie, che
passandosi dall'organizzazione gentilizia a Roma essa sia l'unico elemento, che
possa sostenere la lotta coll'antico ordine di cose. Per tal modo si ha nel
periodo gentilizio una vera formazione naturale delle varie condizioni di
persone e dei varii elementi, che entrarono più tardi a costituire la comunanza
civile e politica. Che anzi, mentre dura ancora il periodo gentilizio, già si
vengono lentamente e gradatamente elaborando quei concetti, che serviranno poi
di base a Roma. “Tantae molis erat romanam condere gentem.” Non è già che
questo processo di naturale formazione sia proprio soltanto delle genti italiche,
in quanto che le traccie di essa appariscono evidenti presso tutte le stirpi di
origine aria. Nessuna però giunse a racchiudere i varii stadii di questa
formazione in forme più determinate e precise delle stirpi italiche, e sono
esse parimenti che, gettando nel crogiuolo i materiali tutti elaborati e
conservati nel periodo gentilizio, seppero ricavarne le basi e il fondamento di
Roma. Ciò è stato provato largamente dal SUMNER MAINE, “L'ancien droit.” È poi
interessantissima a questo proposito la comparazione, che fa Revillout fra
l'organizzazione domestica dei romani e quella che vigeva presso gli Egiziani
nella sua opera col titolo, “Cours de droit égiptien” (Paris) della quale può
considerarsi come un compimento, per ciò che si riferisce alle forme di
celebrazione del matrimonio, il lavoro del suo allievo PATURET, “La condition
juridique de la femme dans l'ancien Egipte” (Paris). Fra i problemi, che
presenta la storia delle istituzioni primitive di Roma, uno fra i più difficili
per comune accordo degli autori è certo quello, che si riferisce all'origine di
quella forma di “proprietà”, che suol essere indicata col nome di proprietà
quiritaria, la quale in certo modo venne ad essere il modello, sovra cui si
foggia la proprietà presso la maggior parte dei popoli civili. A questo
proposito le tradizioni a noi pervenute sembrano presentare alcune
contraddizioni a prima giunta inesplicabili. Da una parte infatti, anche dopo
la formazione di Roma, si rinvengono ancora le traccie di una proprietà
collettiva, conosciuta sotto il nome di “ager gentilicius” e di “ager
compascuus”, mentre dall'altra la proprietà quiritaria si presenta fin dai
proprii inizi con un carattere cosi assoluto ed esclusivo, che sembra perfino
escludere la possibilità dell'esistenza anteriore di una proprietà collettiva.
A cio si aggiunge, che mentre da una parte la storia primitiva di Roma ci
dipinge il patriziato fin dai più antichi tempi in condizioni tali da
concentrare nelle sue mani tutto il capitale – “pecunia” -- allora esistente, e come il proprietario
pressochè esclusivo di una gran parte del territorio, dall'altra la tradizione
parla di una ri-partizione fatta da Romolo del territorio di Roma e di un
assegno da esso fatto di soli due iugeri – “bina iugera” -- ai capi di famiglia, che lo segueno, il quale
assegno avrebbe co stituito il primo patrimonio – “heredium” -- del più antico
patriziato, che era quello della tribù dei Ramnenses. Ecco i principali passi
di filosofi che si riferiscono all'argomento. VARRONE:: “Bina iugera, quod a
Romulo primum divisa viritim, quae heredem sequerentur, heredium appellarunt”.
PLINIO: “Bina tunciugera populo romano satis erant, nullique maiorem modum
attribuit (Romulus).” Lo stesso Plinio: “M. Curii nota dictio est, perniciosum
intel legi civem, cui septem iugera non essent satis. Haec autem mensura plebi
post ex ictos reges adsignata esto.” (Brons, Fontes). Se ne ricaverebbe
pertanto - Non è quindi meraviglia se le congetture a questo proposito siansi
avviate in direzioni compiutamente diverse. Alcuni ritenneno che la proprietà
privata in Roma sia stata una creazione dello stato. Contro questa opinione si
è osservato che l'idea di una sovranità territoriale e affatto ignota ai romani,
per guisa che un'imposta fondiaria qualsiasi sarebbe loro parsa un segno di
soggezione odioso tanto, che fino al principato, Roma e l'Italia ne furono
escluse. In senso contrario, si fa pero notare, che non può ammettersi che la
proprietà in Roma siasi potuta sottrarre a quella evoluzione storica, che
sarebbesi avverata presso tutti i popoli, in quanto che Roma avrebbe esordito
con un concetto della proprietà, che presso gli altr’popoli non si rinviene che
quando essi sono pervenuti al termine della loro evoluzione. Ne deriva che, lasciando
in disparte le gradazioni diverse delle opinioni intermedie, le teorie estreme
si potrebbero ridurre essenzialmente alle seguenti. Vi ha l'opinione di
Niebhur, di Mommsen, seguita anche da molti altri, fra cui noto De Ruggero,
secondo cui la proprietà in Roma, come presso gl’altri popoli, sarebbe prima
esistita sotto forma collettiva e non sarebbesi cambiata in proprietà
esclusivamente privata ed individuale, che colla ammessione della plebe alla
cittadinanza e cogli assegni di terre fatti dallo stato ai che ai primi
fondatori dello stabilimento romuleo l'assegno non fu che di due iugeri, mentre
poi più non parlasi di altri assegni fatti anche al patriziato. Per contro gli
assegni posteriori, incominciando da Numa, appariscono fatti ai plebei ed anzi
ai più poveri della plebe. Solo fa eccezione Cicerone, il quale dice che Numa
divide fra i cittadini l'agro pubblico conquistato sotto Romolo – “agros
divisit viritim viribus” (De rep.). Ma in ciò è contraddetto da Dionisio, il
quale parla di una distribuzione da Numa fatta ai più poveri, Quanto
agl'assegni attribuiti ai re, che vennero dopo, sono tutti fatti alla plebe, ed
è dopo le leggi Licinie Sestie, che i medesimi furono portati a sette iugeri.
Ciò è attestato fra gl’altri da Columella, De re rustica. “Post reges exactos
Liciniana illa VII iugera, quae plebi tribunus viritim diviserat, maiores
quaestus antiquis retulere, quam nunc nobis praebent amplissima vetereta.” Ho
citato questi varii testi per provare, che il solo assegno fatto ai primi padri
o capi di famiglia fu quello di II iugeri attribuito a Romolo, mentre gli altri
sono fatti alla plebe; il che dimostra che i padri dovettero continuare ad
avere i loro agri gentilizii. PADELLETTI, Storia del diritto Romano, con
annotazioni di Cogliolo, Firenze, si sforza, e a parer mio, inutilmente, a
dimostrare che il piccolo “heredium” di II iugeri puo bastare ai bisogni della
famiglia, stante la coltura intensiva applicata al medesimo.] singoli cittadini;
e vi ha quella invece, sostenuta con ardore dal nostro Padelletti, secondo cui
sarebbe affatto esclusa questa origine collettiva dalla proprietà, in quanto
che l'istituto della medesima, quale si è svolto fin dai più antichi tempi di
Roma, per usare le sue stesse parole, avrebbe assunto un carattere
spiccatamente privato ed avrebbe segnato il grado più perfetto, a cui sia
pervenuto il regime della proprietà. È poi degno di nota che siccome oggidi la
ricerca intorno all'origine delle proprietà assunse le proporzioni di una
questione economica e sociale, in quanto che ad essa si rannodano teorie
diverse intorno all'ordinamento delle proprietà, così la ricerca delle sue
origini presso un popolo, le cui istituzioni esercitarono tanta influenza sopra
tutti gl’altri, ha assunto eziandio il carattere di un problema economico e
sociale. Sonvi infatti coloro che, come Laveleye ed altri autori più o meno
apertamente favorevoli ad un ordinamento collettivo della proprietà, vogliono
trovare, anche presso [L'autore, che primo approfondì i concetti dell' “ager
publicus” e dell’ “ager privatus”, è certamente Niedhur, “Histoire romaine.”
Niedhur però sembra partire dal preconcetto, che anteriormente a Roma non
esiste proprietà privata, e che questa e costituita mediante gli assegni stati
fatti alla plebe. La sua opinione e seguita da Puchta, “Corso delle Istituzioni”.
Trad. Turchiarulo, da MOMMSEN (“Histoire romaine”). Segue pare questa opinione
De-RUGGERO nei suoi dotti articoli sull’ “ager publicus”, “ager privatus”, e
sulle “lex agrariae”, inserti nell'”Enciclopedia giuridica italiana”, come pure
nel suo precedente lavoro, “La gens in Roma avanti la formazione del comune” (Napoli).
PADELLETTI. La questione dell'origine collettiva della proprietà comincia
dall'essere posta in campo dal Sumner Maine (“L'ancien droit, -- Histoire de la
propriété primitive”). Essa poi fu allargata da Laveleye nel “La propriété et
ses formes primitives”, dove si oc cupa della proprietà presso i romani. Di
recente poi la discussione -surse di nuovo, a proposito della proprietà primitiva
presso i germani, in occasione di una dissertazione letta da FUSTEL DE
COULANGES all'Accademia di Scienze morali e politiche di Parigi, in cui
sostiene che anche i primitivi germani conosceno la proprietà famigliare e
privata. Alla discussione presero parte GEFFROY, Glasson, Aucoc e Ravaisson, e
ne usce una specie di studio comparativo fra la proprietà e la famiglia romana
e la proprietà e la famiglia dei primitivi germani. Compte rendu de l'Académie
des sciences morales et politiques. L'opinione del Fustel DE COULANGES, quanto
alla proprietà privata già conosciuta dai germani, e stata già sostenuta in
modo anche più esclusivo da Ross, “The early of Land-holding among the Germans”
(Boston)] i Romani, le traccie di una proprietà collettiva, mentre altri,
sostenitori invece della proprietà privata ed individuale, cercano di avere per
sè l'autorità di un grande popolo per giustificare la forma di proprietà che è
loro prediletta. Il vero si è che tanto l'una come l'altra teoria solleva dei
grandi dubbi. Da una parte infatti, quando si riconosca presso i romani solo
una proprietà originariamente collettiva, viene ad essere inesplicabile come un
popolo, che suole procedere così gradatamente nella trasformazione delle
proprie istituzioni giuridiche, abbia potuto senza altro operare una
rivoluzione così radicale nel concetto della proprietà. Dall'altra, se si
sostiene che la proprietà romana e senz'altro una proprietà assoluta ed
esclusiva, non è men vero che il popolo romano sembre rebbe appartarsi da tutta
l'evoluzione della proprietà, quale almeno sarebbe stata formolata da coloro,
che si occuparono delle forme primitive dalla medesima assunte. In questa
condizione di cose non puo negarsi la gravità e la importanza del problema, e
questo è certo che il medesimo non potrà mai essere risolto, finché non si
ricerchino le condizioni della proprietà presso le genti del Lazio, per
mettersi cosi in caso di apprezzare le trasformazioni, che esse ebbero a subire
nel passaggio dal periodo gentilizio alla comunanza civile e politica.
Tuttavia, prima di inoltrarsi nella ricerca, non e inopportuno di premunirsi
contro alcune idee, che, sopratutto in questi ultimi tempi, si vennero
introducendo intorno alla legge di evoluzione storica, che governa la proprietà.
Laveleye cerca di stabilire sopra una grande quantità di fatti una legge
storica, secondo cui la proprietà comincia dall'esistere sotto forma collettiva
e poi sarebbe venuta assumendo un carattere sempre più individuale, lasciando
così sottintendere, che l'unico rimedio di ovviare a questa individualizzazione
soverchia della proprietà sarebbe quello di richiamare l'istituzione ai propri
inizii. L'opera del LAVELEYE è quella già citata col titolo, “La propriété et
ses formes primitives” (Paris), e la legge storica ricordata nel testo è da lui
formolata nello stesso primo capitolo, il che giustifica alquanto la censura
fattagli dal PADELLETTI di essersi sforzato a dimostrare una tesi. Del resto le
idee del LAVELEYE trovano molti seguaci e possono anche essere accettate in
certi confini, con che non si voglia cambiare in una legge storica generale un
fenomeno, che ebbe solo a verificarsi in un periodo dell'umanità stessa, cioè
nel periodo gentilizio. Di più si potrebbe [Senza entrare ora nella discussione
di questa legge, devesi però notare, che ricerche di altri investigatori
imparziali, fra i quali Spencer, hanno
già dimostrato, che una legge di questa natura non puo essere ammessa, in
quanto che presso popoli del tutto primitivi già si trovano le traccie di una
proprietà privata ed individuale. Quindi è che l'unica legge storica, relativa
all'evoluzione della proprietà, che allo stato attuale degli studi possa
formolarsi, e che la proprietà, essendo una istituzione eminentemente sociale, ha
in tutti i tempi ad assumere tante forme, quanti sono gli stadii per corsi
dall'organizzazione sociale. Sopratutto poi la storia delle istituzioni
giuridiche presso i varii popoli dimostra, che le sorti della proprietà si
presentano strettamente connesse con quelle della famiglia, cosa del resto che
può essere facilmente compresa quando si consideri, che il primo bisogno della
famiglia e certamente quello di assicurare il proprio sostentamento. Siccome
pero la famiglia nel periodo, che suole essere chiamato patriarcale, entra essa
stessa a far parte di un organizzazione maggiore, che è l'organizzazione
gentilizia, cosi anche la proprietà finisce per assumere tante con figurazioni
diverse, quanti sono i gradi di questa organizzazione sociale. Ciò può
scorgersi anche presso quei popoli, i quali sono recati come esempio da quelli,
che sostengono che nelle origini e prevalso il regime collettivo della
proprietà, quali e le antiche comunanze dell'Oriente e anche dell'Occidente, il
cui ter sempre notare a LAVELEYE e con esso al SUMNER MAINE che, finchè non sia
provato che l'organizzazione patriarcale è l'organizzazione primitiva, non si puo
neppure sostenere che la forma di proprietà, che trovasi durante
l'organizzazione gentilizia, sia la forma primitiva. Quanto alla letteratura
copiosa sull'argomento, può vedersi il dotto lavoro di VioLLET (“Précis de
l'histoire du droit français”, Paris). L'autore ritiene, che la proprietà
privata e la collettiva possano essere ugualmente antiche, ma che nella origine
ha prevalenza la proprietà collettiva, mentre la proprietà individuale sarebbe
stata ristretta a qualche cosa mobile di uso esclusivamente personale. Questa
proprietà collettiva si e poi venuta frazionando ed avrebbe assunto un
carattere sempre più individuale, in quanto che la proprietà famigliare e
privata ha prevalso su quella più estesa della tribù. L'autore però non spiega,
come ciò abbia potuto accadere, mentre il passaggio può invece essere seguìto
presso i romani. SPENCER, Principes de sociologie, Paris, ove egli parla “de la
fausseté de la croyance mise en avant par certains auteurs, à savoir que la
propriété individuelle était inconnue aux hommes primitifs.”] ritorio, secondo
consuetudini antichissime, suole essere ripartito in varie parti, di cui una
viene ad essere assegnata alle singole fa miglie. L'altra è lasciata a prato ed
a pascolo, ove i singoli capi di famiglia possono pascolare un numero
determinato di capi di bestiame; e l'altra infine è considerata come proprietà
della intera comunanza, ancorchè sovra di essa continuino ancora ad esercitare
certi diritti i singoli comunisti. Or bene se la legge dell'evoluzione storica
della proprietà è contenuta in questi, che sono i suoi veri confini, credo di
poter affermare in base ai fatti, che la storia della proprietà a Roma non solo
non costituisce un'eccezione alla medesima, ma è quella invece, che conserva le
traccie più evidenti di tale evoluzione. Non è dubbio anzitutto, che presso i romani
le sorti della proprietà e quelle della famiglia procedettero strettamente
connesse fra di loro. Basterebbe a dimostrarlo il fatto, che il quirite entra
nella comunanza civile e politica nella sua doppia qualità di capo di famiglia
e di proprietario sopratutto del suolo, e che nel diritto primitivo di Roma i
poteri del capo di famiglia sopra le persone e le cose si presentano così
strettamente uniti fra di loro, che un solo vocabolo, quello appunto di familia,
comprende le une e le altre. A ciò si aggiunge che è un principio,
costantemente applicato dai romani, quello per cui non può esi stere nè alcuno
stadio di organizzazione sociale, nè alcuna corporazione anche di carattere
sacerdotale senza che le debba essere assegnato un patrimonio, il quale,
indicato col vocabolo generico di “ager”, [LAVELEYE, come pure il SUMNER Maine,
Village Communities. London, Early history of institutions. London, Early law
and custom. London. Questa è la significazione che il vocabolo “familia” riceve
nell'antico diritto, come lo dimostrano le espressioni familia habere, emere,
mancipio dare e simili. Che anzi essa talvolta significa direttamente la
proprietà, come può vedersi nella Lex latina tabulae Bantinae. Le varie
significazioni del vocabolo “familia”, coi testi che loro servono di appoggio,
possono vedersi in Roby, Introduction to Justinian's Digest. Cambridge, Notae
ad Tit. « de usufructu », vº Familiae. G. CARLE, Le origini del diritto di Roma]
può essere chiamato, secondo i casi, ager privatus, gentilicius, compascuus,
publicus, communis, peregrinus e simili. Ciò prova fino all'evidenza, che il romano
primitivo, allorchè si presenta nella storia, ha già il concetto profondamente
radicato, che non possa quasi esservi la famiglia senza una proprietà, che le
serva di sede e le fornisca i mezzi di sostentamento, e che questo concetto e
da esso applicato a tutte le altre corporazioni, le quali tutte furono
primitivamente modellate sulla famiglia. Non è quindi possibile il sostenere,
che la proprietà privata o meglio famigliare possa, presso i romani,
considerarsi come una creazione dello stato, ma conviene necessariamente
ammettere che e conosciuta già prima, se appena fondato lo stato, il primo atto
che esso compie, secondo la tradizione, è quello di assegnare una proprietà ai
singoli capi di famiglia. È questo il motivo per cui anche qui, per comprendere
l'istituto della proprietà quale comparisce in Roma, conviene cercarne
l'origine presso le genti, fra cui Roma si è formata. Vero è che sono
pochissime le vestigia veramente genuine, che ci riman gano dello stato di
cose, che esiste anteriormente a Roma. Ma tuttavia anche con pochi frammenti
non è impossibile la ricostruzione di questa condizione anteriore, quando si
tenga conto del processo costantemente seguito dai romani, anche nel periodo
storico, che è quello di trasportare nel periodo seguente i concetti e le
istituzioni, che hanno ad elaborarsi nel periodo anteriore. Intanto un primo sussidio può aversi in
questo carattere del l'organizzazione gentilizia, per cui essa, a misura che
giunge a produrre un nuovo gruppo, che si sovrappone e si intreccia al
precedente, viene ad essere naturalmente condotta a creare una sede esteriore,
in cui il gruppo stesso possa trovare il proprio svolgimento. Come più tardi la
sede esteriore della “civitas” è stata l' “urbs”, così le sedi esteriori dei
varii gruppi gentilizii sembrano, presso le antiche genti italiche, essere
state indicate coi vocaboli certo antichissimi di domus, di vicus e di pagus. De-RUGGERO,
Enciclopedia giuridica italiana, vº Ager publicus-privatus. Ciò può vedersi nel
Pictet, Origines Indo Européennes; Paris, come pure nel BRÉAL, Dict. étym. lat.
ai vocaboli indicati. Non vi è dubbio, che tutti questi vocaboli già esistevano
anteriormente alla [Domus è la sede del capo famiglia coi proprii figli e coi
proprii servi, sede, che può anche avere un cortile ed essere circondata da un
piccolo orto e forse anche da un piccolo ager, che uniti colla casa
costituiscono un tutto, che con un vocabolo non meno antico poteva es sere
chiamato heredium da “herus”, od anche mancipium, perchè di pendeva
direttamente dalla manus del capo di famiglia, intesa come la somma dei poteri
al medesimospettanti, o infine anche familia, perchè comprendeva tanto i liberi
quanto i servi. Non vi ha poi dubbio che è dalla domus, che si staccherà più
tardi il concetto di “dominium” e si capisce anche che di questo dominium, il
quale potrà poi acquistare una larghissima estensione, la parte più sacra, più
preziosa, quella, da cui il capo di famiglia si separa più a malincuore e che
egli vorrebbe perpetuare nella famiglia, continua sempre ad essere riposta in
quel nucleo primitivo, che costitue l'heredium, e che nel diritto quiritario
prese poi il nome di mancipium. La riunione poi delle abitazioni di diverse
famiglie, provviste di un cortile e cinte da uno spazio, a somiglianza diquelle
che Tacito ci descrive presso i germani, viene a costituire il vicus, il quale
di regola nella organizzazione gentilizia suole comprendere le abitazioni delle
familiae, che dividono il medesimo culto e appartengono alla medesima gente. Il
vicus quindi ha ancora un carattere del tutto patriarcale e si comprendono cosi
le circostanze attestateci da Festo: che i vici si trovavano di preferenza
presso quei popoli, che non avevano ancora delle città, quali erano i Marsi ed
iPeligni; che essi erano stabiliti fra i campi – “in agris” -- ; e che se essi
già avevano un luogo di mercato, non avevano però sempre un luogo, dove si
amministrasse giustizia, nè sempre nominavano un magister vici, a somiglianza
del magister pagi, che ogni anno si nominava invece nel pagus. Cio dimostra,
che se il vicus puo svolgersi formazione della comunanza, e quindi dalla loro
esistenza si può argomentare che dovevano pur conoscersi le istituzioni, che
con essi erano indicate. Quanto alle domus familiaque è da vedersi il numero
stragrande dei passi raccolti da Voigt, “Die XII Tafeln” -- TACITUS, Germania. Festo,
vº Vici, fa, quanto al vocabolo di vicus, ciò che suol fare per ogni altro
vocabolo, la cui significazione siasi venuta trasformando, indica cioè le
significazioni diverse, che il medesimo ebbe ad assumere. Egli quindi esamina
il vicus, finchè trovasi ancora fra i campi – “in agris” -- , ed è a proposito
di questo primo vicus, che egli dice: “sed ex vicis partim habent rempubblicam,
et ius dicitur, partim nihil eorum et -- talvolta in guisa da prendere le
proporzioni ed avere le esigenze del pagus, nei casi ordinarii però era la sede
di una comunanza puramente gentilizia. E poi naturale, che come le singole
famiglie in esso avevano il proprio heredium, cosi anche il vicus, sede della
gente, fosse circondato dal proprio ager gentilicius, sul quale si potevano
anche fare gli assegni ai clienti. Viene ultimo il “pagus”, ove esiste un sito
per il mercato, ma che contemporaneamente può anche servire per amministrarvi
giustizia, sito, che probabilmente può già essere chiamato forum, almodo stesso
che in esso già trovasi il magister pagi, dal cui nome ebbe a derivarsi senza
alcun dubbio quel vocabolo di magistratus, che tamen ibi nundinae aguntur,
negotii gerendi causa. Poi trova il vicus nel seno degli oppida, e dice che
comprende « id genus aedificiorum, quae continentia sunt his oppidis, quae
itineribus regionibusque distributa inter se distant, nominibusque dissimilibus
discriminis causa sunt distributa ». Tuttavia, anche nella città, il “vicus”
indica ancora qualche cosa di privato, cioè quei vicoli privati, che dànno
accesso esclusivo ad abitazioni contigue. V. Bruns, Fontes. L'interporsi di un
elemento estraneo nel seno del vicus e poi naturalmente impedito da quella
antica consuetudine romana, per cui il fratello vende al fratello, il vicino al
vicino, il consorte al consorte. Che poi esistesse veramente una proprietà
spettante al vicus e destinata ad uso comune degl’abitanti di esso lo
dimostrano certe iscrizioni, in cui il vicus quale *persona giuridica* fa
contratti di compra e di vendita, Corpus inscrip. latin.-- Del resto anche il
Digesto ammette il vicus a ricevere donazionie legati. L. 73, 1 Dig. -- È da
vedersi, quanto ai vocaboli con cui ebbe ad essere indicato il vicus nelle
lingue Indo-Europee, il Pictet, Origines Indo-Européennes. Quanto al concetto
del vicus e delle “vicinitas” presso i germani vedi Ross, Land holding among
the Germans. Boston. Il vocabolo di “forum” è uno di quelli, che ci indica il
processo col quale le genti latine, trovato una volta il vocabolo, venivano
trasportandolo a tutte quelle significazioni, che corrispondevano al concetto
ispiratore del medesimo. Noi sappiamo da Festo, che “forum” significa il
vestibolo di un sepolcro, ove convenivano i parenti per dare l'estremo saluto
al defunto. V. Bruns, Fontes. Poi sappiamo da VARRONE, De lingua latina, che le
genti latine « quo conferrent suas controversias et quae vendere vellent quo
ferrent, forum appellarunt. Infine l'abbre viatore di VERRIO Flacco colla sua
consueta diligenza ci dice che “forum sex modis intellegitur; primo
negotiationis locus; alio, in quo iudicia fieri, cum populo agi, contiones
haberi solent; tertio cum is, qui provinciae praeest, forum agere dicitur, cum
civitates vocat et de controversiis earum cognoscit, ecc.” (Brons). Per tal
modo, il luogo di convegno per i parenti, che piangono un defunto, viene col
tempo a convertirsi nel sito, ove il magistrato romano risolve le controversie
fra le città ed i popoli.] serve ad indicare tutte le cariche della città. Nel “pagus”
per tanto havvi già un accenno alla vita civile, e quindi si può ritenere con
certezza, che esso è già la riunione di più vici e comprende il complesso delle
abitazioni occorrenti per un'intera tribù. Ciò del resto è dimostrato dal fatto,
che le tribù rustiche di Servio Tullio presero il nome di tanti pagi, che prima
esisteno nella stessa località. Così pure, nota Lange, e dimostrato che il
pagus Succusanus e sostituito dalla tribus Suburana, che è una delle quattro
tribù urbane dello stesso Servio, come pure vi sono iscri zioni, che parlano di
un pagus Aventiniensis e di un pagus laniculensis, nei quali nomi è anche degna
di nota la terminazione di essi, che è analoga a quella, con cui si indicano le
popolazioni, che compongono le tribù. È poi anche naturale, che questo pagus ha
pur esso un ager, certamente situato a maggiore distanza, perchè in prossimità
vi sono gli agri gentilicii, e che questo ager chiamisi “compascuus”, e che
comprenda talvolta eziandio, oltre il sito destinato per il pascolo, anche
delle siloae e dei saltus. Intanto da questa configurazione esteriore
dell'organizzazione gentilizia si può inferire che, almodo stesso che questa
venne forman dosi per una naturale sovrapposizione di varii gruppi, così anche
le varie forme di proprietà si vennero assidendo l'una sull'altra. L'ager [LANGE,
Histoire intérieure de Rome, NIEBHUR, Histoire Romaine. Del saltus è da vedersi
la diffinizione di Elio GALLO conservatasi da Festo, pº Saltus. I saltus
potevano essere oggetto di proprietà collettiva del pagus e della città, ed
anche di proprietà privata. È poi degno di nota, che il vocabolo “saltus”,
allorchè già si venivano formando i latifondi per modo che, secondo Plinio, sei
persone possedevano metà dell'Africa (Hist. nat., XVIII, 7), finì per
significare quegli immensi dominii, posseduti da privati e soventi anche dal
principe, sovra cui dimora una popolazione, di carattere pressochè colonico,
che dipende più dall'arbitrio del possessore o del suo procurator, che non
dalle leggi del principato. Riguardo ad uno di questi saltus, situato appunto
nell'Africa e chiamato Saltus BURANITANUS, si scoperse di recente una
importante iscrizione, che contiene una petizione della popolazione del saltus
al principe. Fondandosi su di essa ESMEIN, sostiene che in questi saltus comincia
a formarsi l'istituzione del colonato. — Mélanges d'histoire du droit et de
critique. Paris, V. pure FUSTEL DE COULANGES, Le colonat romain. Paris] si
viene, per dir così, atteggiando in tante guise, quanti sono i gruppi che si
vengono sovrapponendo. Presentasi anzitutto la casa (domus od anche tugurium,
se nel contado) colla sua corte, coll'orto e col campicello attiguo, che
appartiene alla famiglia nella persona del suo capo, e ne costituisce
l'heredium, la familia, il mancipium. Ma siccome ogni capo di famiglia, oltre
questa parte sostanziale del suo patrimonio, può anche avere un capitale
circolante, composto di greggi e di armenti e di altre cose mobili, così è
naturale, che accanto al concetto dell'heredium si formi quello del peculium,
accanto a quello della familia quello della pecunia e accanto a quello del
mancipium quello del nec mancipium; distinzione, che tornerà poi in acconcio
per spiegare a suo tempo la famosa divisione del diritto quiritario fra le
resmancipii e le res nec mancipii. Che veramente questa forma di proprietà già
preesiste alla comunanza romana viene ad essere provato da cio, che fin dal
primo formarsi di questa occorrono i concetti di herus, di heredium, di heres,
il qual ultimo vocabolo ha pur la stessa origine di “herus” e scrivesi talvolta
anche semplicemente “eres”, per guisa che anche questo vocabolo significa, se
non il proprietario, al meno il comproprietario, come lo prova la testimonianza
di Festo, secondo la quale « heres apud antiquos pro domino ponebatur ». Non vi
ha poi dubbio, che con questi vocaboli ha eziandio strettissima attinenza il
vocabolo di herctum o erctum, che significa ripartizione da erciscere, donde
proviene la denominazione certamente antica dell'actio familiae erciscundae.
Tuttavia, comegià si accenna, è un costume antichissimo quello indicatoci dall'«
ercto non cito » di Aulo Gellio, la cui significazione letterale è, a mio
avviso, quella di non venire ad una pronta divisione e che indica il più antico
dei con [Trovo confermata la descrizione sovra esposta dell' heredium dal
dottissimo lavoro, di recente pubblicato da Voigt, così benemerito degli studii
sull'antica Roma, col titolo, “Die römischen Privataltertümer und römische
Kulturgeschichte”, estratto dall' Handbuch der klassischen
Altertumswissenschaft, pubblicato dal Beck in Nördlingen. Quivi Voigt ritiene
che l'heredium comprenda l'hortus, l'ager, la cohors o chors, il pomatum, più
tardi detto anche “pomerium”, e di più la casa, detta anche tugurium, che
comprende il granarium, il foenilium, il palearium ecc. Ivi poi si trova citata
tatta la letteratura sull'argomento, compresa anche l’italiana, così spesso
trascurata. Anche Voigt sembra accostarsi alla significazione qui attribuita al
dualismo di familia pecuniaque, senza però accennare alla correlazione, che
sembra esistere eziandio fra heredium e peculium, mancipium e nec mancipium,
sorzii e delle società, che è quella fra i fratelli e gli agnati, che lascia
vano indivisa l'eredità ed il patrimonio. Intanto la conseguenza viene ad
essere questa, che i vocaboli di mancipium e di manceps, quelli di familia e di
pater familias rimontano tutti al periodo gentilizio, e segnano, insieme con
herus ed heredium, l'atteggiamento diverso sotto cui poteva essere considerata
la figura molteplice del capo di famiglia. Di questi vocaboli però quello che
significa meglio il potere giuridico del capo di famiglia era quello certamente
di man ceps e di mancipium, ed è questa forse la causa, per cui il vocabolo,
che prevarrà più tardi nel diritto quiritario e quello di “mancipium”, al quale
solo più tardi sottentrerà quello di dominium ex iure Quiritium. Non vi è poi
dubbio, che all'heredium ed all’ager privatus si sovrapponesse l'ager
gentilicius, che era quello spazio, non compreso negli heredia, che trovavasi
nei dintorni e nelle circostanze del vicus e ritenevasi come proprietà
collettiva della intiera gente. Era su quest'ager gentilicius, che potevansi
fare degli assegni ai clienti, i quali però non hanno una proprietà, ma
ritenevano e godevano le terre loro assegnate a titolo di semplice precario. Dell'esistenza
di questo ager gentilicius e del modo di ripartirlo noi troviamo ancora un
esempio durante il periodo storico, in occasione della venuta a Roma di Atto
Clauso, e della sua gente. Questi viene di Regillo per porre la propria dimora
nel territorio stesso di Roma, senza che vi siano elementi nè per affermare nè
per negare, che egli con ciò avesse rinunziato all'agro gentilizio, che dove
certamente essere posseduto colà da una gente che, come la Claudia all'epoca. Questa
induzione, a cui già ebbi occasione di accennare, parlando della familia omnium
agnatorum, trova una conferma nel diligente lavoro di POISNEL, “Les sociétés
universelles chez les Romains,” specialmente in quella parte ove si occupa del
primitivo consortium, accennato da Aulo Gellio, il quale avveravasi tra
fratelli ed agnati, stante l'indivisione del patrimonio. “Nouvelle revue
historique de droit français et étranger”. È anche degna di nota l'attinenza
fra i vocaboli di consortium e di consors con quello di “sors”, che dapprima
indicava la quota di eredità spettante a ciascuno. V. BRÉAL, Dict. étym. lat.,
vu Sors. Ciò è anche confermato dall'espressione di familia inercta nel
significato di indivisa, ricordata da Paolo Diacono [Cfr. in proposito i passi
citati da Voigt, Die XII Tafeln. Festo, v° Patres. Tale è pure l'opinione di Esmein,
“Les baux de cinq ans en droit romain” – “Mélanges d'histoire de droit”, Paris.]
della sua venuta a Roma, ha, secondo la tradizione, compresi ben MMMMM clienti.
Questo è certo, che dal momento che egli abbandona la sua sede originaria e
veniva accolto nel patriziato romano, mediante la cooptatio, gli fu dato un
tale spazio di terreno oltre l'Aniene, che egli potè assegnare II iugeri in
godimento a tutti i suoi clienti, oltre al che gli sarebbero ancora rimasti XXV
iu geri per sè e la sua gente. Questo assegno di territorio, mediante il quale e
la gente Claudia, che diede il nome a quella tribù rustica, non impede, secondo
Dionisio, che e eziandio assegnato ad Atto Clauso un sito nel circuito stesso
di Roma, ove puo abitare egli e la sua famiglia. È facile il vedere, che qui
occorrono i concetti tanto dell'heredium, quanto dell’ager gentilicius, e si ha
pur anche la prova, che nell'organizzazione gentilizia e alla stessa gens od al
consiglio di essa, che si appartene di fare il riparto fra le singole famiglie
ed anche gli assegni ai clienti. Di qui deriva la conseguenza, che, fra le
varie forme della proprietà nel periodo gentilizio, quella che predomina sopra
tutte le altre è la proprietà della gente, ossia l'ager gentilicius; perchè al modo
stesso che è nella gens, che si formano le famiglie, cosi è pure dall'ager
gentilicius, che si ricano gli heredia. Cosi pure è anche probabile che, in
mancanza di eredi suoi, i quali possono in certo modo essere considerati quali
comproprietarii dell'heredium, e in difetto eziandio di agnati prossimi, che
mantengano ancora indiviso l'asse paterno, questi heredia tornano all’ager gentilicius,
cioè alla sorgente stessa, da cui essi furono staccati. Da ultimo sonvi
eziandio molti indizii dell'esistenza di una proprietà, che considerasi come
spettante alla intiera tribù, e che prende il nome di ager compascuus, di
compascua, di pascua, presso le genti del Lazio piuttosto dedite alla
pastorizia, e di communia o communalia nell'Etruria. Puo darsianzi, che un ager
compascuus puo esservi già nello stesso vicus, come lo dimostrerebbe la
deffinizione di Festo – “compascuus ager relictus ad pascendum com muniter
vicinis.” Ma in ogni caso non vi ha dubbio, che questo compascuus ager certo
esiste nel pagus e già dava origine ad una [Dion. Cfr. Bonghi, Storia di Roma. L'esistenza
di questi compascua è dimostrata da diversi passi, sopratutto di agrimensori.
Basti il seguente di FRONTINO – “Est et pascuorum proprietas, pertinens ad
fundos, sed in commune, propter quod ea compascua communia appellantur, qui
busdam provinciis pro indiviso.” Bruns, Fontes] specie di pubblico reddito
(vectigal), consistente nel contributo, che doveno dare gl’abitanti, che ivi
pascolavano i proprii greggi ed armenti, contributo, che all'epoca romana viene
poi ad essere indicato col nome di scriptura. Una prova dell'esistenza di
questi pascua e di ciò, che essi costituirono forse le prime sorgenti di
reddito pubblico, può ricavarsi da un testo prezioso di Plinio, il quale, dopo
aver detto che pecunia a pecude appellatur, cosa del resto che è attestata da
tutti gli antiquarii, aggiunge questo particolare importantissimo – “etiam nunc
in tabulis censoriis PASCUA dicuntur omnia, ex quibus populus reditus habet,
quia diu hoc solum vectigal fuerat” -- il che vuol dire in sostanza, che i romani,
in questa parte conservatori come in tutto il resto, finirono per indicare col
vocabolo primitivo dei “Pascua”, che costituivano la proprietà collettiva della
tribù, tutta quella parte della proprietà collettiva del populus, ossia
dell’ager publicus, da cui il popolo stesso ricava qualche reddito. Del resto
l'esistenza di questo ager compascuus e anche accennata in quel tradizionale
riparto, che Romolo fa fra i Ramnenses, quando aveva fondata la Roma Palatina,
poiché delle tre parti una sarebbe stata assegnata al Re ed al culto; l'altra
alle singole famiglie e avrebbe costituito gli heredia; e la terza sarebbe
stata appunto l'ager compascuus, che e anche la prima forma di ager publicus,
in cui le genti patrizie, probabilmente dedite ancora in parte alla pastorizia,
potevano far pascolare i proprii greggi ed armenti. Credo che le cose premesse
dimostrino abbastanza che, anche anteriormente alla formazione di Roma, la
proprietà già esi stesse in tante gradazioni, quanti erano i gruppi, che
entravano nella stessa organizzazione gentilizia, per modo che vi era una
proprietà privata o meglio famigliare, una proprietà gentilizia, e una
proprietà spettante alla comunanza della tribù. Di queste varie forme di
proprietà, quella che predomina era la proprietà gentilizia, perchè da essa usceno
e ad essa ritornano gli heredia, come poi erano anche i capi di famiglia delle
varie genti, che hanno il godimento dei compascua; nel che può forse trovarsi
l'origine pro [NIEBHUR, “Histoire romaine”, Voigt, “Die römis. Privataltert.”, LANGE,
“Histoire intér. de Rome” --- Plinio -- Dion. NIEBHUR, Hist. rom. - babile di
quel fatto importantissimo nella storia di Roma, per cui le genti patrizie
riputarono per qualche tempo di avere da sole il diritto di occupare l'ager
publicus, il quale a Roma non è che una trasformazione ed un ampliamento per
mezzo della conquista del primitivo ager compascuus. Queste varie forme di
proprietà nel periodo gentilizio si intrecciano insieme per modo, che si
vengono temperando e limitando scambievolmente per guisa, che il potere
giuridicamente illimitato del capo di famiglia sul proprio heredium nel costume
gentilizio viene ad essere trattenuto da una quantità di temperamenti, che ne
impediscono qualsiasi abuso per parte del capo di famiglia. Quindi anche quel
potere, che più tardi e affidato al “praetor” di interdire nel iudicium de
moribus quel padre di famiglia che disperdesse i bona paterna avitaque, dove
certamente rimontare alle consuetudini gentilizie e che probabilmente
appartenne al consiglio degl’anziani della gens di frenare queste dispersioni e
prodigalità del capo di famiglia con un iudicium, che e de moribus e con una
formola, che certo dovette essere analoga a quella adoperata dal praetor. oLe
cose premesse intanto ci mettono anche in condizione di poter risolvere in
poche parole alcune questioni grandemente agitate fra gli interpreti del
diritto romano primitivo. La prima di esse sta in vedere se gl’antichi heredia,
ossia quei bina iugera, che Romolo distribusce ai capi di famiglia e di cui
Varrone dice che erano così chiamati in quanto che heredem sequerentur, doveno
o non ritenersi inalienabili, e se i figli doveno considerarsi come com
proprietarii del patrimonio del padre. Senza occuparci per ora della
trasformazione, che subi l'heredium ossia la proprietà famigliare e [Questa
esclusione dei plebei dall'agro pubblico è attestato da un testo di Nonio
MARCELLO, riportato dagli Annali di qualche autore più antico – “Quicumque
propter plebitatem agro pubblico eiecti sunt.” Bruns, Fontes, -- il che è pur
confermato da un passo di Sallustio. “Regibus exactos servili imperio patres
plebem exercere, agro pellere.” Cfr. MUIRHEAD, Histor. introd., accenna per
nota, che anche in Grecia vi era un' eguale sollecitudine per i beni aviti.] privata
colla formazione di Roma – ANNO I -- , noi possiamo perd affermare con certezza
che questo concetto dell'heredium esiste già anteriormente ed erasi
naturalmente formato durante il periodo gentilizio. O che l'heredium doveva
potersi alienare dal capo di famiglia, perchè, se questa alienazione non e
stata possibile, non si comprenderebbe il concetto e l'esistenza di un
commercium, come pure non si comprende l'esistenza certo antichissima di un
iudicium de moribus, di- a retto appunto ad impedire l'imprudente e prodiga
dispersione di questo patrimonio, che nel suo concetto informatore era
destinato ad essere trasmesso dai genitori nei figli e da questi ai nipoti. O che
tuttavia questa alienazione, durante il periodo gentilizio, dovette essere
gover nata da solenni formalità e dovette forse anche compiersi colla
approvazione o quanto meno colla testimonianza dei notabili del villaggio. O che
infine nella primitiva organizzazione gentilizia i figli si riputano
comproprietarii sopratutto di quella parte del patrimonio paterno che costituie
l'heredium, il che e in certo modo indicato dal vocabolo “heres”, che in antico
avrebbe significato comproprietario, e che posteriormente continua a
significare la medesima cosa mediante l'espressione più completa di “heredes
sui”. Insomma nel concetto primitivo il padre è come custode e detentore del
patrimonio famigliare nell'interesse suo e della sua prole. È questo
probabilmente il motivo, per cui non dove nei primi tempi di Roma avere nulla
di ripugnante al modo dipensare e diagire del tempo quel concetto giuridico del
diritto quiritario primitivo, che ora a noi appare cosi ostico e pressochè
inesplicabile, per cui tutto ciò che appartiene od è acquistato dalla moglie,
dai figli, dai servi, finisce per essere considerato come di spettanza del padre
e tutto ciò, che essi stipulano od acquistano, deve in certo modo ritenersi
fatto per conto e nell'interesse del capo di famiglia. Questo concetto infatti,
mentre indica l'unificazione potente della famiglia romana sotto l'aspetto
giuridico, prova eziandio la comunione ed intimità di vita, che dove esistere
nel costume della medesima; comunione ed intimità di cui il diritto non si
occupa, perchè non dove occuparsene, ma che sono largamente attestate da tutti
gli scrittori, che richia -- Ciò è anche confermato dalla nota proposizione di
Gaio, II, 157: « Qui quidem heredes sui ideo appellantur, quia domestici
heredes sunt et vivo quoque parente quo dammodo domini existimantur ».] mano la
memoria della primitiva famiglia, governata dal “mos pa trius, ac disciplina”. Ad
ogni modo la conseguenza ultima della nostra ricerca è questa, che, se gli
heredia erano alienabili allorchè l'individuo era ancora legato nei vincoli
strettissimi dell'organizzazione gentilizia, per maggior ragione dovettero
esser tali, quando egli venne ad essere libero cittadino di una libera Roma.
Intanto se si ammette che nell'organizzazione della proprietà nel periodo
gentilizio la forma prevalente è quella della proprietà gentilizia, in quanto
che essa da una parte origina la proprietà privata e famigliare e dall'altra si
estende al godimento della proprietà collettiva della tribù, è facile il
dedurne la conseguenza, che il sistema di successione, allora introdotto dal
costume e che fini col tempo per cambiarsi in successione legittima, dovette
proporsi essenzialmente per iscopo di mantenere e perpetuare la proprietà nella
gente con impedire che la medesima potesse passare ad estranei. Si comprende
pertanto, che in base al costume gentilizio la proprietà va ai figli, che ne
sono comproprietarii, ed anche agli agnati prossimi, finchè essi mantengono
indiviso il patrimonio paterno, ma appena questi manchino, dovranno succedere i
gentiles e questi non individualmente, come alcuni credono, ma collettivamente
in quanto cioè formano la comunanza gentilizia. Il motivo è questo, che se la
legge di Roma puo favorire il riparto immediato fra gli eredi, il costume
invece di una comunanza gentilizia favorisce invece per quanto esso può l'ercto
non cito, come diceno i Romani, cioè l'indivisione e la comunione dei
patrimonii; perchè essa mira, non a favorire lo svolgimento dell'individualità
del capo di famiglia, ma a rendere compatto per quanto è possibile il gruppo,
in cui gli individui vengono ad essere pressochè assorbiti. Parimenti è certo
incontrastabile, che la successione, quale compare nei primitivi tempi di Roma
e quale esiste anteriormente, non ammette nè distinzioni di primogenitura, nè
distinzioni di sesso, quanto alle persone che erano chiamate a succedere. Ma si
può anche [Cic., Cato maior, 11, 37, parlando di Appio Claudio il cieco scrive:
« Quatuor robustos filios, quinque filias, tantam domum, tantas clientelas
Appius regebat et caecus et senex... Tenebat non modo auctoritatem, sed etiam
imperium in suos; metuebant servi, verebantur liberi, carum omnes habebant;
vigebat in illa domo mos patrius ac disciplina.]- essere certi, che il costume
dovette certamente dirigersi costantemente, se non a favorire il primogenito,
almeno ad impedire, che si venisse alla divisione del patrimonio, ed anche ad
evitare, che le femmine colla libera disposizione della parte di sostanza, che
loro apparteneva, potessero compromettere gli interessi della gente. Ciò
infatti viene ad essere comprovato dalla tutela perpetua, a cui le donne erano
soggette per parte degli agnati -- tutela che aveva sopratutto lo scopo di
sottrarre alle femmine la libera disposizione delle proprie cose, e che col
tempo divenne per modo odiosa, che esse, aiutate dai giu reconsulti, trovano
modo di sottrarvisi mediante quell'espediente giuridico, di carattere
eminentemente romano, che è la “coemptio fiduciaria.” Quanto alle istituzioni
dell'adrogatio e del testamentum, non può esservi dubbio, che esse doveno
certamente esistere nel costume antico dei maggiori, anche anteriormente alla
formazione di Roma, in quanto che esse sono istituzioni, che compariscono
compiutamente formate, come appare da ciò che le XII tavole, nei frammenti a
noi pervenuti, non parlano dell'adrogatio e quanto al testamento non fanno che
confermare una istituzione preesistente. Di più e ben naturale, che il concetto
dell'una e dell'altro doveno presentarsi naturalmente a capi di famiglia, che
da una parte erano tutti in tesi al culto dell'antenato e dall'altra sono fissi
nel pensiero di perpetuarsi in una posterità, che continuasse il proprio culto
gentilizio. Istituzioni quindi, come l'adrogatio e come il testamento, sono
acconcie e indispensabili ad una organizzazione come la gentilizia, ma intanto
cosi l'una che l'altra non possono nella medesima servire come mezzo per
soddisfare ad un affetto o ad una predilezione capricciosa, ma dovevano avere
l'unico scopo di provvedere alla perpetuazione della famiglia e del suo culto. Questa
coemptio fiduciaria, in virtù della quale la donna passa in manu di una persona
che non divenne marito di lei, nell'intento solamente di farsi manomettere da
lui per essere liberata dalla tutela degli agnati, è ricordata da Gaio. E
questa coemptio, che fa dire a CICERONE, pro Murena, che i tutori, anzichè
essere i protettori delle donne, si erano cambiati in un mezzo per liberarle da
ogni tutela. Cfr. MUIRHEAD. Puo sembrare poco logico, che io qui discorra,
trattando della proprietà, anche dell'adrogatio, che ha piuttosto rapporti
coll'organizzazione della famiglia, ma ho creduto di poterlo fare in quanto
anche l'ad rogatio mira a fare in guisa che il capo famiglia abbia un erede,
che ne perpetui [Questo carattere è incontrastabile per ciò, che si riferisce
al l'antica adrogatio, la quale e una istituzione gentilizia ed aveva in certo
modo per intento di perpetuare una famiglia ed un culto, che sarebbero andati
perduti per difetto di prole maschile, togliendo da un'altra famiglia
l'elemento che in questa sovrabbondava. Trattavasi quidi un vero affare di
stato e quindi, se si debba giudicare dalle formalità, che sono poscia seguite
dal patriziato nella comunanza romana (dove per compiere un'adrogatio volevasi,
comeper una legge, l'intervento dei pontefici e l'approvazione del popolo
radunato in curie) conviene certamente inferirne, che solennità non minori
dovettero ri chiedersi nel periodo gentilizio. Se questo trapianto dell'innesto
di una famiglia sul ceppo sterile di un'altra si opera fra le famiglie della
stessa gente, puo forse bastare l'approvazione del consiglio della gente, ma se
seguiva invece fra famiglie, non appartenenti alla stessa gente ma alla stessa
tribù, dove certo esservi l'approvazione dei padri delle tribù. La cosa invece
potrebbe lasciar luogo a qualche dubbio per ciò che si riferisce al testamento,
ma se si considera, che in so stanza anche il testamento patrizio in comitiis
calatis, cioè davanti all'assemblea delle curie, compievasi con formalità del
tutto analoghe a quelle proprie dell'adrogatio, converrà inferirne,che lo
spirito informatore del testamento in questo periodo gentilizio dove essere del
tutto analogo a quello, che ispira l'adrogatio. Il testamento per sua natura è
tale che, come può essere un mezzo per far valere, dopo la propria morte,
l'impero di una volontà arbitraria, così può anche es sere il mezzo per
impedire, che si avveri fra gli eredi quella ripartizione e quell'uguaglianza
di parti, che può essere introdotta o dalla legge o dalla consuetudine. Ora è
certo, che la successione invalsa nel periodo gentilizio, secondo cui
succedevano prima i figli, poi gli agnati prossimi, e infine la gente
collettivamente considerata era bensi già intesa a conservare il patrimonio
nella gente, ma intanto aveva an cora due inconvenienti dal punto di vista
gentilizio. L'uno di essi consiste nel diritto, che i figli hanno di venire ad
una ripartizione immediata dell'asse paterno in porzioni uguali, divisione che
face i sacra, e in ciò ha un'attinenza anche col testamento. Di più in questo
periodo la proprietà e la famiglia sono ancora strettamente connesse fra di
loro, per modo che non può essere il caso di scindere affatto le istituzioni
che le riguardano.] vasi per stirpi e non per capi, e l'altro era quello
dell'uguaglianza fra maschi e femmine, il che fa si, che ana femmina, passando
a matrimonio, sottraesse alla famiglia una parte del patrimonio uguale a quella
di un maschio. Queste conseguenze, che sono per noi da approvarsi, non potevano
sembrare tali a capi di famiglia, che mirano sopratutto a conservare integro il
patrimonio e a perpetuarlo come tale nella famiglia. Si può quindi essere
certi, che i capi di famiglia, che si ispirano a questo concetto e che nel fare
testamento dovevano anche avere l'approvazione degl’anziani, che pure avevano
la stessa tendenza, non potevano certamente servirsi di esso per sottrarre la
loro sostanza alla famiglia od alla gente. Essi invece dovevano servirsene o
per impedire la pronta ripartizione del patrimonio, usando le antiche parole «
ercto non cito » – o per accentrare per la maggior parte il loro patrimonio in
uno soltanto dei figli, – o infine per scemare la quota spettante alle femmine,
come quella, che dove essere riguardata come una sottrazione fatta al
patrimonio vero della famiglia perpetuantesi nella linea maschile. Mone della
famiglia e del suo culto. Si può quindi conchiudere, che per lo genti patrizie
il testamento non dovette certamente essere un mezzo per disporre liberamente e
a capriccio delle proprie cose, come fu poi il testamento nel di ritto
quiritario; ma dovette servire alle medesime per conseguire quello scopo, che
anche oggi si propongono bene spesso i capi delle famiglie, anche non patrizie
ma solo ricche ed agiate, allorchè, dettando il loro testamento, cercano
d'accentrare la loro fortuna in una od in poche persone, nell'intento di
assicurare ciò che con linguaggio antico e moderno suole essere chiamato il
decoro e la dignità della famiglia. Pervenuto a questo punto, parmi di aver
dimostrato in un modo, che avendo convinto me potrà forse anche persuadere gli
altri, che le genti patrizie, anche anteriormente alla formazione di Roma, già
conoscevano una proprietà privata, attribuita al capo di famiglia. Ciò pero non
toglie, che quest'ultimo fosse ben lontano dall'avere quella libera
disposizione delle proprie cose per atto tra vivi e per testamento, che trovasi
invece riconosciuta senza alcun confine nel diritto quiritario, e ciò perchè lo
spirito dell'organizzazione gentilizia si informava tutto all'intendimento di
serbare integro il patrimonio alla famiglia, ancora indivisa, degli agnati dap
prima e in mancanza di essa alla gente. Come dunque potrà essersi operata
presso un popolo, di spirito così eminentemente conservatore, una
trasformazione cosi radicale nel carattere della proprietà da cambiare la
medesima di proprietà gentilizia in quiritaria, allorchè esso passò dal periodo
gentilizio alla convivenza civile e politica? Ecco il gravissimo problema, al
quale non credo che siasi data ancora una soddisfacente risposta, a causa del
l'idea universalmente accolta sull'autorità di Niebhur e di Mommsen, che lo stato
romano siasi formato mediante la fusione e l'incorporazione di varie genti e
tribù. Secondo questi autori infatti, lo stato costituendosi avrebbe in certo
modo incorporato in sè la proprietà gentilizia, cambiandola cosi in territorio
nazionale, e sarebbe poi addivenuto al riparto di una parte di esso a favore
dei singoli capi di famiglia, ritenendo il restante come ager publicus. Fra gli
autori, che trattarono largamente e di recente il gravissimo tema, mi limito a
citare De-Ruggero, come quegli che riassume nettamente la opinione
universalmente seguita. Egli, dopo di aver premesso che prima della formazione
dello stato esiste soltanto la proprietà collettiva o gentilizia, la quale
appartene alla gens e non alle singole famiglie, viene alla conclusione
seguente. Fondatosi quindi il comune e lo stato con la unione di più genti,
esso sarebbe divenuto, come la gente stessa nel periodo della sua autonomia, proprietario
del territorio generale di tutte le genti romane, cioè, del territorio
nazionale. E come la gens lascia alle sue singole famiglie la coltivazione e
l'uso di alcuni terreni (fundi), rimanendo gli altri proprietà comune. Cosi
anche lo stato lascia ai privati una parte del territorio come proprietà
(adsignatio romulea) e ritiene per sè un'altra parte destinata a tutta la
cittadinanza (ager publicus). Di fronte ad una teoria così recisa, conforme del
resto alla opinione generalmente seguita, mi sia lecito osservare, che
anzitutto non è provato, che prima della formazione dello stato non vi fosse
che la proprietà gentilizia, e che la gente non lascia alle famiglie, che la
coltivazione e l'uso di alcuni terreni. I vocaboli certamente preesistenti di
herus, heres, heredium, che senza alcun dubbio si applicano al capo di
famiglia, provano invece che il concetto di una proprietà privata già preesiste
fra [DE- RUGGERO, V° Ager publicus-privatus, nella Enciclopedia giuridica
italiana. Del resto queste sono le idee che l'autore aveva già sostenute in “La
gens avanti la formazione del comune romano” (Napoli), e che stanno pure a base
del suo dotto ed interessante articolo sulle Agrariae leges nella stessa
Enciclopedia giuridica italiana.] le genti del Lazio; poichè se così non fosse
stato non sarebbesi trovata la parola già preparata ed acconcia per indicare
gli assegni fatti ai capi di famiglia, e gli assegni si sarebbero fatti alle
genti, alle tribù e non ai singoli capi di famiglia, o meglio a ciascun
individuo, che segue Romolo nella sua intrapresa. Viha di più, ed è che,
tenendo conto del carattere delle genti latine, in cui l'idea del “mio” e del “tuo”
– il “nostro” -- presentasi in ogni tempo cosi profondamente radicata, non può
essere probabile che le gentes e le tribù, che potevano essere ed erano in
effetto in condizioni disuguali quanto ai loro possedimenti, come continuarono
ancora ad esserlo dopo, si siano contentate dimettere tutto in comune, malgrado
la loro origine diversa, per starsi paghe “ai bina iugera”, assegnati da
Romolo. Si aggiunge, che se tutta la fortuna del patriziato primitivo Ramnense
si riducesse soltanto ai II iugeri, non si saprebbe veramente comprendere come
la medesima potesse bastare per la famiglia coi servi e coi clienti. Del resto
non consta, che siavi veramente alcun autore antico, che accenni a questa
specie di societas omnium bonorum, per cui si sarebbero messi in comune tutti
gl’agri gentilicii. Noi sappiamo soltanto, che Romolo, in base ad un costume tradizionale
fra le genti latine, che dove già esistere prima e che e applicato anche più
tardi in occasione dell'impianto di colonie, divide Roma in parte fra i proprii
seguaci, mentre un'altra parte ritenne per sè e per il culto, ed un'altra
riservò a titolo di pascolo comune. Intanto pero le varie genti, che
parteciparono alla fondazione di Roma, dovettero continuare a tenere i proprii
agri gentilicii, come lo dimostra il fatto, che anche all'epoca di Servio
Tullio le varie tribù rustiche continuarono a prendere il nome da quelle genti
patrizie, che dovevano avere più larghi possessi nel territorio delle medesime.
Vi ha di più, ed è che la tradizione accenna a due testamenti, fatti durante il
regno stesso di Romolo, a favore del popolo romano, coi quali questo avrebbe
ereditato dei campi presso Roma, ed anche quello stesso campo marzio, che
avrebbe poi costituito il primo nucleo dell'ager publicus; fatti e tradizioni
queste, che sarebbero del tutto incomprensibili, quando lo Stato romano nella
propria formazione fosse diventato il proprietario di tutti i territorii
gentilizii, e li avesse poi distribuiti ai singoli privati. Inoltre se Romolo,
come dicesi, avesse imitato [I testamenti, a cui qui si accenna, sono quelli
ricordati da Aulo Gellio, Noct. Attic., VII, 7, 4, 6, e che egli attribuisce
l'ano ad Acca Laurenzia, la quale fino il sistema gentilizio, i capi di
famiglia avrebbero dovuto soltanto avere la coltivazione e l'uso dei fondi loro
assegnati, mentre la proprietà avrebbe dovuto spettare alle genti; e ciò mentre
noi sappiamo, che non vi fu mai proprietà più assoluta, che la proprietà
quiritaria fin dai proprii inizii. Del resto convien dire, che l'opinione, di
cui si tratta, è per sè una conseguenza logica ed inesorabile del ritenere con
Mommsen, che Roma risulta dall'incorpora zione e fusione delle varie genti e
tribù; poichè è naturale che con un tale sistema lo stato avrebbe dovuto
incorporare ogni cosa nelle proprie mani e farne poi il riparto ai singoli capi
di famiglia. Solo sarebbe a spiegarsi come lo stato, creando esso la proprietà
famigliare e privata, l'avesse costituita senz'altro cosi illimitata, senza
confini e senza alcuna sua ingerenza, quale appare essere stata la proprietà
quiritaria. Tutte queste incoerenze invece scompariscono quando si ritenga che
il comune romano non assorbi nè le tribù, nè le genti, nè le famiglie, ma
intese solo a costituire fra di esse un centro di vita pubblica, e non
distribui quindi ai privati altre terre. Quanto alla divisione dell'agro fra le
tre tribù, a cui accenna Varrone, la medesima non potè essere che una divisione
puramente amministrativa, con cui si riconobbe alle varie tribù la parte del
territorio, che già loro apparteneva, prima che entrassero a far parte della
stessa comunanza. Di qui la conseguenza, che la proprietà quiritaria, ed anche
la famiglia, con cui essa appare strettamente congiunta, non possono essere che
quella proprietà e quella famiglia, che già esistevano nell'anteriore
organizzazione gentilizia, salvo che le medesime, staccate dall'organizzazione
stessa, apparvero con un carattere di assolutezza, che prima era temperato
dall'am dall'epoca romulea avrebbe lasciato allo stato certi campi siti presso
Roma, e da lei ereditati dal proprio marito; e l'altro alla vestale Gaia
Taracia, che avrebbe lasciati al popolo romano tutti quei campi presso il
Tevere, che presero poscia il nome di campo marzio, dove si radunarono più
tardi i comizi centuriati. Pongasi pure che i due racconti siano leggendarii. Ma
essi certo hanno un fondo di vero ed indicano quanto meno, che'i cittadini
romani non hanno mai creduto che lo stato fosse il proprietario di tutto il
territorio. I due testamenti sono anche citati dal De Rug GERO, V ° Ager
publicus privatus, nell'Enc. giur. it. Devo però dichiarare che questa
divergenza di opinione nulla toglie alla stima che ho grandissima per l'autore,
così benemerito per gli studi di diritto pubblico romano.] biente in cui si
erano formate. La causa poi, per cui gli assegni di terre furono fatti ai
singoli capi di famiglia, o meglio ai singoli seguaci di Romolo proviene da ciò
che essi entrarono nella comunanza non come membri delle genti ma nella loro
qualità di capi di famiglia, donde la conseguenza, che di fronte alla nuova
formazione della convivenza civile e politica, mediante una federazione fra le
varie tribù, più non si trovarono di fronte che la proprietà del capo di
famiglia (ager privatus) e la proprietà dell'ente collettivo (ager publicus).
Continuano però ancora sempre a mantenersi nel fatto gli agri gentilizii, i
quali però sono naturalmente destinati a scomparire, a misura che si dissolve
l'organizzazione gentilizia, in quanto che a costituire il populus primitivo
non entrano già i membri delle genti, come tali, ma soltanto i capi di famiglia
in quanto sono ad un tempo proprietarii di terre; il qual carattere del populus
viene ancora ad accentuarsi maggiormente colla costituzione Serviana, in base a
cui ognuno partecipa ai diritti ed agli obblighi di cittadino (munera), in
proporzione del censo. Questo e non altro e il processo seguito nella
formazione di Roma, e per conseguenza anche nella formazione della famiglia e
della proprietà, quali comparvero nel diritto quiritario. Per ora intanto,
prendendo le mosse dall'ordine logico dei fatti e delle idee, che si vennero
svolgendo fin qui, cercherò di riassumere logicamente e sotto forma di ipotesi
quello svolgimento del l'istituto della proprietà, che più tardi appare
comprovato nell'ordine dei fatti. Pongasi che una mano di uomini forti ed
avventurosi, appartenenti a genti diverse ma tutte di stirpe latina – “nomen
latinum” -- si raccolgano intorno ad un duce di stirpe regia e sotto la sua
guida abbandonino la loro residenza gentilizia, per recarsi a fondare uno
stabilimento fortificato sul Palatino. Essi, lasciando per ora in disparte il
rito religioso seguito nella fondazione, cominciano dall'occupare il suolo
necessario per erigervi il loro stabilimento, e cercano anche di fortificarsi
in esso, per essere in caso di difendersi dalle popolazioni vicine, le quali,
per appartenere forse a stirpi diverse, non possono vedere di buon occhio
quest'ospite novello e pericoloso. Quanto al suolo conquistato ed occupato, è
naturale che si cominci dal ripartirlo, secondo le regole tradizionali seguite
dai maggiori. Del suolo quindi sono fatte tre parti. Una è assegnata al loro
capo, al culto, ai publici edifizi. L’altra è divisa fra i singoli capi di
famiglia in altrettanti piccoli heredia di due iugeri, i quali potranno essere
ritenuti sufficienti quando si consideri, che questi capi di famiglia
continuano ancor sempre ad avere i loro agri gentilizi nei dintorni, e solo
abbisognano di uno spazio per costruirvi le loro case, con un cortile ed un
orto. La terza, infine, è lasciata a pascolo comune per i singoli capi di
famiglia, che possono immettervi i proprii greggi ed armenti, pagando un
corrispettivo (scriptura), che costi tuirà il primo reddito pubblico. Fin qui
però noi non abbiamo ancora, che la tribù dei Ramnenses e lo stabilimento
romuleo da essa fondato sul Palatino. Pongasi ora, che, in seguito ad ostilità
seguite con altre comunanze stanziate sui colli vicini, gl’uomini atti alle
armi e abili per consiglio di queste varie tribù, rappresentati dal proprio
capo, con vengano sotto forma di foedera, di entrare nella loro qualità di capi
di famiglia e di proprietarii di terre a far parte della stessa comunanza
civile e politica. È naturale allora, che il centro e la [Cfr. De RUGGERO, V °
Ager pub. priv., -- ove considera appunto questo riparto attribuito a Romolo
come una istituzione fondamentale romana che, conservatasi nei tempi
posteriori, puo naturalmente essere attribuita, nella ricostruzione che si fa
posteriormente della storia e del diritto primitivo di Roma, anche al fondatore
e al legislatore di questo. Ciò lascia credere che l'autore vegga in questo
riparto, che pur è attestato da tanti autori e che d'altronde non ha nulla
d'improbabile, in quanto che lascia anche le sue traccie nella centuria in
agris e nel centuriatus ager, ricordati da Festo e da VARRONE. Non mipare che
siavi motivo per un dubbio di questa natura, solo che si spieghi la formazione
di Roma, come è accaduta. Che poi il centuriatus ager e la centuria in agris
non comprendessero tutto il territorio romano, nè tutto l'ager romanus
conglobando in esso anche gli agri gentilizi, ma solo la parte di esso, che era
conquistata sul nemico, risulta oltre che dalla definizione datane da VARRONE e
da Festo, anche da un testo di Siculo Flacco, citato dallo stesso DE RUGGERO,
vº Ager pub. priv. – “Antiqui agrum ex hoste captum victori populo per bina
iugera partiti sunt. Centenis hominibus ducentena iugera dederunt.” Cfr.
NIEBHUR, Histoire romaine] fortezza dell'urbs si trasportino in un sito, a cui
possano avere facile accesso gl’abitanti delle varie comunanze, quale e il
sito, che è fra il Palatino ed il Capitolino, il quale verrà così ad essere la
comune fortezza e servirà per la costruzione dei pubblici edifizi e sacri. È
pero a notarsi, che per eseguire un simile accordo, siccomei capidi famiglia
entrano come tali nella comunanza e non quali membri delle genti e delle tribù,
così non e punto il caso, che si mettano in comune gli agri gentilizii e i
pascoli delle varie tribù. Quindi se le genti e le tribù sono prima ricche ed
agiate e possedevano larghi spazii di suolo, sopra cui disperdevano i proprii
servi e clienti, continueranno ad essere tali e a poterlo fare anche dopo. Ciò
che viene ad essere comune fra di esse è soltanto l'urbs, in quanto essa
comprende i pubblici edifizii, i templi consacrati al divino, che la protegge,
non che l'arx o fortezza, che serve per assicurare la comune difesa. Intanto,
di fronte a questa nuova specie di comunanza, teatro ed organo della vita
civile, politica e militare, non esistono che capi di famiglia proprietarii di
terre e quindi le sole istituzioni, che abbiano un'importanza giuridica,
politica e militare negli inizii di Roma, sono la proprietà e la famiglia
unificate sotto il proprio capo. Pongasi ora, procedendo innanzi, che questa
mano di uomini forti raccolta in esercito entri in lotta con altre comunanze e
che, in virtù di un diritto delle genti universalmente riconosciuto, venga
soggiogandone le popolazioni e conquistandone il territorio. Allora e naturale che
questa comune conquista appartenga dapprima al popolo stesso e sia cosi
considerata come un ager publicus, che verrà con trapponendosi a quell'ager
privatus, che già prima apparteneva ai singoli capi di famiglia. Questo infatti
è il dualismo, che domina tutta la storia economica di Roma. Però, a misura che
si accrescono le conquiste, l'ager publicus pud anche crescere permodo da
sopravanzare ai pubblici bisogni e quindi si comprende, che quelli, che
cooperarono alla sua conquista, ne domandino la ripartizione almeno parziale.
Dapprima tali assegni sul l'agro pubblico – “adsignationes viritanae” -- sono
fatti ai più poveri, i quali sono per tal modo posti in condizione di avere
quella pro prietà, che è riputata necessaria per partecipare alla comunanza; ma
poscia, di fronte all'incremento sempre maggiore dell'ager publicus, si
comincia anche a disporne in guisa diversa. Continua sempre ad esservi una
parte dell'ager, che è distribuita fra i più poveri della città e fra quelli,
che partono per fondare una colonia, e si ha cosi l'ager adsignatus, che serve
per somministrare ai cittadini poveri quella proprietà, quel censo, quell'”ager
privatus censui censendo”, che è ritenuto necessario per far parte della vera
cittadinanza. Un'altra parte invece e venduta ai pubblici incanti (ager
quaestorius), o sarà data in affitto, mediante il pagamento di un
corrispettivo, detto scriptura (ager vectigalis). Il primo di questi continuerà
ad accrescere l'ager privatus, ma non più quello della classe povera, ma di
quella ricca ed agiata, che possiede già il capitale per acquistarlo; ed il
secondo, quello cioè dato in affitto, finirà col tempo per dare origine a
quelle lunghe locazioni, che quasi si assomigliano a vere compre-vendite, dalle
quali uscirà poi una nuova forma di contratto, che è l'enfiteusi. Infine
dell'ager publicus puo ancora rimanervene una parte, la quale, o per essere
sterile o scoscesa (propter asperitatem ac sterilitatem ), non trovi compratori
nè affittavoli, o che il consiglio dei padri non abbia ritenuto opportuno di
mettere in vendita. Questa parte continua naturalmente ad appartenere all'ager
publicus e ancorchè immensamente ampliata colle conquiste corrisponde in certa
guisa ai pascua o compascua, che esistevano nelle antiche tribù. Quindi si
comprende come i padri delle genti patrizie, memori ancora del diritto che hanno
di slargare nei pascua i proprii greggi ed armenti (compascere), affermino il
loro diritto di occupare questa terra in certo modo abbandonata e di spargere
in essa le tormedei clienti e dei servi ed anche dei liberi, che siano alla
loro mercede. Sorge per tal modo il concetto dell'ager occupatorius, il quale,
non essendo stato acquistato, non può certo essere oggetto di proprietà privata,
ma costituisce le cosi dette possessiones, le quali, dopo essere durate per
qualche tempo, acquistano un carattere pressochè giuridico e danno occasione di
[Tutto questo processo ci è attestato dagli agrimensori romani, dei quali
sappiamo, che avevano grande autorità anche nelle provincie. L'autore, che
primo mise in evidenza l'importanza dei loro scritti, e NIEBHUR, che loro dedica
un saggio che può vedersi nell' Histoire romaine. Ora poi sta preparando un lavoro
di lena sugli agrimensores Brugi. Quanto alle affermazioni, che sono contenute
nel testo, sono esse abbastanza giustificate da quegli estratti degli
agrimensores, che sono raccolti dal Bruns, Fontes. Qui infatti io non mi
proponeva di entrare in particolari discussioni, ma bensì di mettere in
evidenza il processo, che i romani hanno ad applicare costantemente nella
distribuzione di un agro, che veniva crescendo colle loro conquiste.] svolgersi
alla protezione pretoria, la quale fa cosi entrare nelius honorarium l'istituto
giuridico del possesso. Intanto tutta questa parte dell'ager publicus, che è
cosi lasciata alla occupazione, viene ad essere come una sottrazione alle
ripartizioni gratuite fra quelle classi inferiori, che non hanno mezzi e
capitali per tentare una occupazione, e che, anche avendoli, non sarebbero dal senato
autorizzati a farla, e quindi tra il patriziato antico, a cui si aggiunge col
tempo la nuova nobiltà plebea, e la plebe minuta viene ad esservi una
opposizione di interessi. Da una parte si ha interesse a provocare nuovi
riparti per impedire le occupazioni e per limitare le occupazioni stesse, che
col tempo minacciano di trasformarsi in latifondi; e dall'altra parte ogni
ripartizione, se riguarda terreni già occupati, appare in certa guisa come una
usurpazione di possessi lungamente durati, e se riguarda terreni solo
conquistati di recente, appare come una sottrazione a quel diritto di
occupazione, che il patriziato attribuisce a sè stesso. Di qui le lotte intorno
alle leggi agrarie, le trasformazioni del concetto ispiratore delle medesime, e
infine la insufficienza di esse per risolvere la grande questione sociale
dell'epoca, allorchè l'antico patriziato e la nuova nobiltà plebea si strinsero
insieme contro una plebe minuta, che già comincia a cambiarsi in una turba
forensis, e che incapace di durare in lunghi e persistenti sforzi già si era as
suefatta a preferire alle conquiste legali gli spettacoli del circo e le
distribuzioni di frumento. Con cio non intendo però di ammettere l'opinione di
Niebhur, di SAVIGNY e di altri, che farebbero nascere il concetto della
possessio coll'ager pubblicus. Io credo che la *possession*, come istituzione
di *fatto* più che di diritto, avesse origini ben più antiche, e che la
medesima sia stata anzi il modo, con cui i plebei occuparono le prime terre nei
dintorni della città patrizia, il che però non toglie che la prima tutela
giuridica del possesso abbia anche potuto cominciare colle possessiones
nell'agro pubblico: cosicchè accade del possesso, come di un grandissimo numero
di altre istituzioni, che prima cominciano ad esistere di fatto e solo più
tardi entrano a far parte del diritto civile di Roma. Che anzi, dacchè sono in
quest'ordine di idee, aggiungerà ancora che il concetto dell'ager occupaticius
già erasi formato anche prima delle occupazioni del patriziato sull'ager
publicus. Lo dimostra Festo, vº Occupaticius, ove scrive: < occupaticius
ager dicitur qui desertus a cultoribus frequentari propriis, ab aliis occupatur
». (Bruns, Fontes) -- la qual deffinizione dimostra che anche fuori dell'ager
publicus poteva formarsi l'ager occupaticius, il quale perciò differisce
dall'occupatorius. Intanto è sempre da questo ager publicus, che ricavansi
eziandio gli assegni, che si sogliono fare alle colonie, alle città benemerite
del popolo romano, e infine alle stesse provincie. Trattandosi di colonie,
questi esemplari di stabilimenti che Roma crea a somiglianza di sè stessa,
traendone la popolazione dal proprio seno, si applica quel medesimo sistema,
che si applica per la popolazione di Roma, il sistema cioè delle adsignationes
viritanae, fatte ad ogni capo di famiglia, ed hannosi così quegli agri, che gli
agrimensori chiamano divisi et adsignati, i quali sono fuori di Roma una
imitazione di quegli assegni di piccoli heredia, che facevansi un tempo ai
cittadini poveri di Roma. Se trattisi invece di città benemerita, a cui il
senato e il popolo sovrano intendano di dare un segno di soddisfazione ed un
corrispettivo ad un tempo per i servizii prestati, havvi l'ager mensura
comprehensus, il quale, essendo assegnato come proprietà collettiva ad una
città, non è determinato che nella sua generale misura. Infine se trattasi di
delimitare in modo almeno generico i confini del territorio di una popolazione
si ricorre alle indicazioni delle valli, dei fiumi, dei torrenti, delle grandi
strade, dell'acqua pendente, a quelle indicazioni insomma, che in un periodo
ancora molto remoto serviranno poi ad indicare il territorio, che dalla natura
stessa sembra essere segnato ai singoli stati e alle nazioni, e si avrà così
quell'ager, che gli agrimensores chiamano “arcifinius”. Infine anche nelle
porzioni di agro pubblico, che sono vendute all'incanto o date in affitto (ager
quaestorius, ager vectigalis), possono esservidelle parti, che, per essere
scoscese o sterili, non possono trovare da sole nè compratori, nè affittavoli,
e in allora questi siti si aggregano a quelli, che già furono venduti o a
quelli dati in af fitto « in modum compascuae », il che significa che essi, a
somiglianza dei primitivi compascua, si ritengono appartenere per la proprietà
o per il godimento ai più vicini fra quelli, che hanno comprato od affittato
gli altri. Di qui la creazione di una specie di proprietà o di possessione
privata, con pertinenze consistenti in pascoli accessorii, la cui proprietà e
il cui godimento possono dare occasione a questioni fra i giureconsulti per
vedere se, vendendosi od affittandosi il fondo principale senza parlare del
pascolo accessorio, anche questo debba ritenersi compreso nella vendita o
nell'affittamento, sul che [Frontinus, De agrorum qualitate et condicionibus,
BRUNS, Fontes] giureconsulti risponderanno affermativamente, quando non consti
dell'intenzione contraria dei contraenti. Pongasi infine, e anche quest'ultima
supposizione è stata una realtà, che la piccola tribù del Palatino, mutatasi
poi nella Roma dei sette colli, divenga conquistatrice dell'universo allora
conosciuto, e quindi anche legislatrice del suo suolo. Ma essa continua pur
sempre ad applicare, nel piccolo e nel grande, entro l'Italia e fuori di essa,
nella proprietà e nel possesso, nel territorio italico e nel suolo provinciale,
quei concetti, che ebbe ad applicare nelle proprie origini, e che noi abbiamo
dimostrato essersi già preparati in un periodo anteriore alla formazione stessa
di Roma. Certo questi sono svolgimenti logici, che precorrono la serie dei
fatti, ancorchè siano fondati sopra di essi; ma non sono inopportuni per
mettere ordine in una materia, che le minute indagini hanno tal volta resa
intricatissima, e danno anche un esempio sensibile del processo semplice, ma
sempre logico e coerente, che Roma ha ad applicare non solo nell'estendere il
concetto della sua proprietà a tutto il territorio da essa conquistato, ma
anche nell'estendere la sua cittadinanza e l'impero della sua legislazione al
mondo allora conosciuto. Sono i grandi popoli che con mezzi semplici e
pressochè tipici applicati in proporzioni e in condizioni diverse sanno
conseguire i grandi effetti. È questo un esempio di quella dialettica potente e
pressochè celata, che senza apparire negli scritti dei giureconsulti, i quali
sembrano talvolta smarrirsi nei casi singoli e nelle fattispecie, trovavasi
tuttavia nei loro intelletti, ed era certo nella mente del popolo da essi
rappresentato. Ci sono altre applicazioni di questo processo dialettico, che,
mentre non appare allo sguardo, stringe però con una coerenza meravigliosa le
parti più disparate della giurisprudenza romana. [Higinus, 117. « In his igitur
agris quaedam loca, propter asperitatem aut sterilitatem, non invenerunt
emptores; itaque in formis locorum talis adscriptio facta est in modum
compascuae; quae pertinerent ad proximos quosque possessores, qui ad ea
attingunt finibus suis ». Bruns, -- Frontinus poi, De controversiis agrorum,
soggiunge: « Nam et per haereditates aut emptiones eius generis (pascuorum)
controversiae fiunt, de quibus iure ordinario litigatur ». Bruns -- È da
vedersi a proposito di tali controversie lo scritto del Brugi, “Dei pascoli
acces sorii a più fondi alienate”. Bologna. In una organizzazione come quella
che ho cercato di ricostruire, così nelle persone che entravano a costituirla,
che nei territorii che le servivano di sede, sarebbe affatto fuor di luogo il
ricercare delle norme direttive della vita pubblica e privata, che potessero
meritarsi il nome di leggi nella significazione, che noi sogliamo attribuire a
questo vocabolo. Ormai il lavoro di secoli ha strettamente legato il vocabolo
di “legge” e la significazione sua propria alla convivenza civile e politica.
Senza negare che un tempo l'uomo abbia ricavato l'idea di una legge direttiva
delle cose umane dalla contemplazione dell'ordine, che governa l’universa
natura, questo è certo che il vocabolo di legge, nella sua significazione
originariamente romana, che poi fu adottata da tutti gli altri popoli,
significa ormai l'espressione di una volontà collettiva, che si imponga alle
singole volontà individuali. Esso quindi suppone la distinzione fra l'ente
collettivo ed i singoli, fra lo stato organo ed interprete della volontà comune
e I membri che entrano a costituirlo. È quindi inutile cercare della legge, nel
senso proprio della parola, in un'organizzazione, in cui lo stesso gruppo
compie ad un tempo le funzioni domestiche e le funzioni politiche, e nel quale
pertanto non si può rinvenire la distinzione fra il tutto in sè e le parti, che
entrano a costituirlo e neppure quella fra la vita pubblica e la vita privata.
Siccome tuttavia qualsiasi stadio di organizzazione sociale suppone di
necessità delle norme, che lo governino, cosi noi possiamo indurre, che queste
norme non dovettero mancare nel periodo gentilizio. Anzi si può anche
aggiungere, che fra le varie forme di organizzazione sociale quella, che tende
più di qualsiasi altra a stringere in certe regole precise cosi i rapporti
domestici, che quelli della vita esteriore, è certo la comunanza gentilizia, la
quale, essendo esclusivamente fondata sulla eredità, finisce per trasmettere,
di generazione in generazione, non solo IL SANGUE e degli antenati, non solo il
patrimonio e il territorio da essi conquistato, ma anche il nucleo delle
tradizioni dei maggiori. Si aggiunge, che al modo stesso che le genti, fisse
nell'esempio dei proprii antenati, finiscono per mutarli in oggetto di culto,
cosi anche le loro tradizioni tendono, non per impostura di uomini ma per un
naturale processo di cose umane, ad assumere un carattere sacro e religioso,
per cui qualsiasi atto anche meno importante finisce per acquistare una
significazione religiosa. È questa tendenza, cheha condotto tutte le comunanze
gentilizie a diventare pressoché immobili e stazionarie, e che avrebbe prodotto
forse il medesimo effetto fra le genti italiche, come lo produsse fra le altre genti
che appartengono alla medesima stirpe, quando fra esse non si fosse formato un nuovo
focolare di vita, che fu quello che brucia nel tempio di Vesta, cambiatasi in
patrona della città. Che anzi non dubiterei di affermare, che quello stesso
spirito conservatore, che appare in Roma primitiva, sopratutto per parte del
patriziato, non è che una trasformazione di questa tendenza naturale delle
comunanze gentilizie a diventare immobili e stazionarie, quando sono pervenute
a quel maggiore sviluppo, che può comportare il principio informatore di esse.
Dal momento in fatti, che questa tendenza all'immobilità e a fare entrare ogni
elemento in quadri precisi, determinati dal costume e consacrati dalla
religione, male può accomodarsi ad una città piena di vita, i cui elementi
nuovi più non possono ad un certo punto entrare nei quadri antichi, è ben
naturale, che la tendenza stessa riducasi a trapiantare nel nuovo terreno
quanto più si possa dell'antico ordine di cose ed a lottare per la
conservazione di esso, come chi è pro fondamente convinto di lottare per uno
scopo religioso e santo. È questo culto del passato, che contraddistingue le
genti italiche [È abbastanza noto come in quella guisa che la famiglia aveva
per centro il focolare, che le serviva anche di altare, così la città ha pur
essa un pubblico focolare nel tempio di Vesta, la quale per tal modo di dea del
focolare domestico venne a cambiarsi in custode e patrona del focolare di Roma.
Questo invece è da essere notato, che le recenti scoperte intorno al “locus
Vestae” hanno dimostrato, come questo focolare si trovasse a piedi del Palatino
presso il foro e fuori della Roma quadrata; il che serve a provare sempre più,
che la vera città, di cui dove essere centro il tempio di Vesta, non era già lo
stabilimento romuleo primitivo, ma bensì la città dei Quiriti, che risultò
dalla confederazione delle varie comunanze. In una casa poi attigua altempio di
Vesta dimora, secondo la tradizione, il Re (domus regia Numae), il quale, come
custode della città, dove pur trovarsi nel centro di essa. Cfr. LANGE, Histoire
intérieure de Rome, -- dalle elleniche. Mentre queste colla loro intelligenza
acuta e profondamente critica, appena hanno analizzate le proprie tradizioni,
rivestite anch'esse di carattere religioso, le abbellirono e trasformano colla
propria fantasia e finirono per ridurle in frantumi, la credula e religiosa
Italia invece colla sua intelligenza più tarda, ma colla sua volontà più tenace
le conservo a lungo e potè cosi rica varne tutto il succo vitale, che
contenevasi in esse. Questo intanto è certo, che appena noi possiamo arrestare
lo sguardo, non sulle gesta primitive delle genti italiche, che solo più tardi
furono argomento di storia, ma sul linguaggio di esse e sulle traccie della
loro civiltà, che sopratutto ci serbd il culto per i tra passati, noi
riconosciamo immediatamente, che tutte le loro tradizioni, le cui origini sono
celate in un remotissimo e misterioso passato, hanno già assunto un carattere
sacro e religioso. Una religione, per nulla immaginosa ed estetica come la
ellenica, ma eminentemente pratica ed applicata con cura minuta a tutte le
emergenze della vita, ha già consacrato le basi della organizzazione gentilizia,
per modo che le genti italiche, sempre occupate dal divino, che sovraintendono
a ciascun atto della vita, cercano con tutti i mezzi di riconoscere i segni
della benevolenza o malevolenza divina. Per gli atti della vita quotidiana
questa volontà potrà essere indicata anche dai piccoli incidenti della vita; mentre
per i fatti di importanza maggiore per il gruppo, è la volontà del cielo, che
deve essere consul [Osserva giustamente il SUMNER Maine, L'ancien droit, che
mentre l'intelligenza greca colla sua mobilità e la sua elasticità era incapace
di chiudersi nella stretta veste delle formole legali, Roma invece possede una
delle qualità più rare nel carattere delle nazioni, che è l'attitudine ad
applicare e a svolgere il diritto come tale, anche in condizioni non favorevoli
alla giustizia astratta, non scompagnata tale attitudine dal desiderio di conformare
il diritto ad un ideale sempre più elevato. Del resto il primo, che con occhio
veramente acuto abbia scrutato le attitudini mentali diverse dei greci e dei romani,
è il nostro Vico, De uno et universo iuris principio et fine uno. D'allora in
poi il paragone non è più venuto meno. Lo fanno gli storici, come Mommsen,
LANGE ed altri; lo fanno parimenti gli studiosi della giurisprudenza comparata,
come MAINE, op. cit., Freeman, Comparative politics, London, Hearn, Arian
Household, London, IHERING, L'esprit du droit Romain. Per maggiori particolari
in proposito mirimetto al libro: La vita del diritto nei suoi rapporti colla
vita sociale,. ove ho tentato di richiamare alle facoltà psicologiche
prevalenti presso i due popoli il diverso svolgimento, che i medesimi ebbero a
dare alla religione, al diritto, ed alle istituzioni sociali e politiche] tata.
Di qui quella osservazione antichissima del volo degl’uccelli, che è d'origine
latina, e l'altra dell'osservazione delle viscere degli animali da sacrifizio,
che è di origine etrusca, e quel concetto per noi pressochè incomprensibile
degli auspicia, che appartengono al magistrato e che danno al suo potere una
consacrazione religiosa e giuridica ad un tempo. Per attenersi tuttavia a quel
complesso di norme, che riflettono la vita, intesa questa distinzione in un
senso che possa applicarsi al periodo gentilizio, noi troviamo che anche in
questa parte le genti italiche mostrano fin da principio decisa tendenza a
racchiudere le loro tradizioni in forme certe e precise, e a designarle con
vocaboli di significazione determinata, la cui semplicità primitiva sembra
indicarne l'antichità remota. Questi vocaboli per le genti latine sono quelli
di “mos”, di “fas” e di “jus”, i quali tutti nelle origini sembrano presentarsi
con una significazione, che tiene del religioso e del sacro. Del “mos” infatti
noi abbiamo una definizione conservataci da Festo. “Mos est institutum patrium,
id est memoria veterum pertinens maxime ad religiones caerimoniasque antiquorum.”
Qui è notabile anzitutto la significazione larghissima, attribuita al vocabolo,
per cui tutte le patrie tradizioni sarebbero inchiuse nel medesimo, come pure
l'esplicazione che viene dopo, la quale, restringendo in apparenza il contenuto
del vocabolo, indica in sostanza che la parte. BouchÊ-LECLERCQ, Histoire de la
divination dans l'antiquité, e lo stesso autore, Institutions romaines. Questo
ricorrere agli auspizii in ogni affare pubblico e privato è attestato da
Servio, In Aen. “Romani nihil nisi captatis faciebant auguriis et praecipue
nuptias” e da CICERONE, De divin. “Nihil fere quondam maioris rei nisi
auspicato ne privato quidem gerebatur, quod etiam nunc nuptiarum auspices
declarant.” Per quello poi, che si riferisce agl’auspicia, alle varie loro
specie, alla procedura solenne, da cui erano accompagnati, ed alla
importantissima distinzione fra auspicia privata e publica, distinzione, che fu
anch'essa un effetto della formazione di Roma, non ho che a riferirmi alla
trattazione magistrale di Mommsen, “Le droit pubblic romain”. Trad. Girard,
Paris] prevalente nelle istituzioni dei padri era sopratutto quella, che si
rifere alla religione ed alle cerimonie di essa. Questo carattere religioso non
ha poi bisogno di essere provato quanto al vocabolo di “fas”. Poichè il fas
delle genti italiche è paragonato dagli stessi scrittori latini alla Oeuis dei
Greci, e col tempo fu questo vocabolo di fas, che, distinguendosi sempre più da
ogni altro elemento estraneo, fini per significare quelle norme di carattere
esclusivamente religioso, che si riferiscono agli auspicia, al l'arte augurale
ed alle cerimonie del culto. Infine i più recenti investigatori del significato
primitivo del “ius”, quali Leist, Bréal,
al quale aderisce anche Muirhead, e diavviso, che il medesimo nelle proprie
origini avesse eziandio una significazione religiosa. Cosi Bréal ritiene, che
il “ious” antico dei latini, cambiatosi poscia in “ius”, sia perfettamente
conforme al iaus, che occorre nel più antico vocabolo, la cui significazione è
alquanto vaga ed incerta, ma che egli ritiene essere quella di « volontà,
potenza, protezione divina ». Questa primitiva signifi [Festo, vo Mos. È poi
notabile come lo stesso Festo, confermando il carattere religioso, comune
al mos ed al fas, definisca il ritus dicendolo un “mos comprobatus in
administrandis sacrificiis ». Bruns, Fontes, -- Festo, v° Themin, scrive. “Themin
deam putabant esse, quae praeciperet ho minibus quid fas esset, eamque id esse
existimabant, quod et fas est.” Bruns, Fontes. Lo stesso concetto ha ad
esprimere Ausonio, Edyl.: “Prima deum Fas Quae Themis est Graiis.” Per altri
passi è da vedersi Voigt, Die XII Tafeln. È poi degno di nota, che nelle
formole antiche occorre sovente la frase “secundum ius fasque”, la quale indica
in certo modo il bisogno di dare al diritto anche l'appoggio del fas. BRÉAL
tratta la questione in “Sur l'origine des mots dési gnant le droit et la loi en
latin” nella “Nouvelle revue historique de droit Français et étranger” -- la
cui conclusione è la seguente: “Le droit, qu'on a appelé la création la plus
originale du génie latin, et qui a l'air de sortir tout d'une pièce de la tête
des décemvirs a ses origines dans le passé le plus lointain. Il est inséparable
des premières idées religieuses de la race. Questo è pure il concetto di LEIST,
Graec. Ital. R. G., MUIRHEAD, Hist. Introd., segue l'opinione del Bréal. Parmi
però, che questa etimologia non debba fare abbandonare intieramente quella
dalla radice s < iu, che significa stringere, legare, unire, la quale
indicherebbe la funzione, che il diritto compie di vinculum societatis humanae.
Questo è certo, ad ogni modo, come nota Bréal, che le parole mos, fas e ius
debbono essere considerate come caposti pite, e quindi, più che derivare da
altre, sono esse che diedero dei derivati, quali. cazione del vocabolo spiega
poi come tanto i Latini attribuissero un carattere religioso e sacro alla “lex”,
sebbene questi due vocaboli siano di più recente formazione, e ritenessero la
legge come un dono del divino; come pure spiega quel sentimento, le cui traccie
occorrono ancora in Roma, per cui si ama meglio di lasciar cadere in
dessuetudine il diritto costituito, che non di abrogarlo espressamente. Intanto
questo carattere comune a questi diversi vocaboli e ai concetti inchiusi
neimedesimi, conduce ad inferire, che dovette forse esservi tempo, in cui
furono contenuti in qualche concetto più vasto e comprensivo, del quale
essidebbono perciò considerarsi come specificazioni ed aspetti diversi. Questo
concetto, secondo Müller ed anche secondo Leist, sarebbe stato dagli antichi arii
significato col vocabolo di rita, il quale esprime ora l'ordine che regge
l'universo, col suo alternarsi del giorno e della notte, ed ora l'ordine stesso
della natura, in quanto governa il generarsi, il crescere e il disparire degli
esseri viventi. A questo vocabolo di rita corrispon dono perfettamente i
concetti del “ritus”, del “ratum” e della “ratio” dei latini, ed anche quello,
che essi indicano coll'espressione di “rerum natura”, per guisa che anche il
concetto di “ius naturale” nel senso che ha ad essergli attribuito da Ulpiano
di un “ius quod natura omnia animalia docuit” puo rannodarsi a questi primitivi
concetti. Lo stesso Leist poi osserva, che al concetto fondamentale di rita o
di ratio la sapienza antichissima degl’arii associa altri con sarebbero quelli
di fari, iubere, iustitia, iudes, iurgium, iniuria e simili. Una trattazione
poi di questo elemento etico e religioso dell'antico diritto, sussidiata da una
larghissima erudizione, occorre in Voigt, Die XII Tafeln. Leist. Ciò
confermerebbe l'asserzione contenuta nelle Institut. Justin.: “palam est autem
vetustius esse ius naturale, quod cum ipso genere humano rerum natura prodidit:
civilia enim iura tunc esse caeperunt, quum et civitates condi, et magistratus
creari,et leges scribi caeperunt.” Questo è certo poi, che a questo diritto
naturale primitivo anteriore alle leggi accennano soventi i filosofi latini.
Cfr. Henriot, Meurs jur. et judic. Conviene quindi indurne che il concetto di
un diritto della natura comincia in certo modo ad essere sentito
dall'universale coscienza, e solo più tardi diventò anch'esso argomento di una
elaborazione filosofica. In proposito la classica opera del Voigt, “Das ius
naturale, bonum et aequum et ius gentium der Römer”, Leipzig] -cetti, che sono
espressi coi vocaboli di orata, a cui corrisponde il fas e il ratum dei latini,
due vocaboli che sovente procedono uniti: di dhāma, che egli dice analogo alla
Oeuis greca e infine quello di svadhā, che corrisponderebbe all'čnog od neos
dei Greci e quindi anche al mos dei latini, mentre infine il concetto di dharma
già si accosterebbe, quanto alla sua significazione, al vocabolo latino di lex,
il quale sarebbe però sopravvenuto più tardi. Parmi tuttavia che la parentela
ed analogia fra questi varii concetti possa essere facilmente spiegata, quando
si consideri che fra i latini il vocabolo di ratum e quello più astratto di
ratio, si associano talvolta al fas, al ius ed anche al mos. Si può quindi
inferirne con fondamento, che il ratum, da cui derivò poi ratio, significava
l'ordine, che governa il corso delle cose divine ed umane, mentre il fas, il
mos ed il ius, che dapprincipio si presentano tutti circondati da un'aureola
religiosa, significano i diversi aspetti, sotto cui si manifesta questa forza o
volontà operosa, che muove e regge l'universo. Il fas quindisarebbe la stessa
volontà divina, in quanto si estrinseca nei fenomeni della natura, ed è
interpretata da coloro che sanno conoscerne il significato riposto. È quindi
dal fas, che derivano i riti e le cerimonie del culto, le quali sono appunto
intese a rendere propizia agli uomini la volontà divina, e che presso le genti
italiche assumono anche esse il carattere contrattuale del « do ut des ». Il
mos significa la stessa volontà divina, ma non più in [ Leist. Questo scindersi
dal concetto primitivo appare nelle parole di Virgilio “Fas et iura sinunt” che
Servio commenta con dire – “id est divina humanaque iura per mittunt; nam ad
religionem fas, ad homines iura pertinent.” In Aen. (Bruns, Fontes). La parentela poi fra i
vocaboli di ratum e di ratio è dimostrata da Leist con una quantità di passi da
lui citati nella Graec. It. R. G. Ciò appare da tutte le formole primitive, che
si indirizzavano agli dei di una città nemica, per ottenere che i medesimi
abbandonassero la città stessa. V. HUSCHKE, Iurisp. anteiust. quae supersunt,
Nota in proposito il Bouche-LECLERCQ, Institutions romaines, che il culto
romano e una procedura del tutto analoga a quella delle « legis actiones >
che i pontefici trasmisero poi più tardi ai giureconsulti. Che anzi per i Romani
il sacrifizio è una offerta fatta in uno scopo interessato e la preghiera, che
necessariamente l'accompagna, è una stipulazione, il cui effetto è infallibile,
se essa sia concepita nei termini sacramentali, fissati dal costume – “rite”.
Ciò significa che è per tal modo immedesimata coi romani l'idea secondo la
quale il diritto formasi mediante la convenzione e l'accordo, che essi in ogni
argomento scorgono una specie di contratto.] quanto si rivela con segni, la cui
interpretazione è lasciata al sacerdote. Ma bensì in quanto si palesa in quella
tacita hominum conventio, che dà appunto origine al costume ed alla
consuetudine. Infine il “ius” è sempre questa stessa volontà divina, ma in
quanto viene ad essere interpretata e statuita espressamente dagli uomini, che
appartengono alla comunanza, nell'intento di provvedere alle esigenze della
medesima. Per tal modo da un unico ceppo sonosi staccate propaggini diverse; ma
siccome esse continuano ancora sempre ad essere in comunicazione fra di loro,
così è molto difficile il precisare la significazione di ciascuna, sopratutto
nel periodo gentilizio, allorchè vindice di questi varii aspetti della volontà
divina era l'autorità patriarcale del padre e del consiglio degli anziani. È
poi'degno di nota, che questi varii concetti, negli inizii di Roma, si
presentano come patrimonio esclusivo delle genti patrizie come appare da ciò,
che queste chiamano le usanze plebee non già col vocabolo di mores, ma con
quello di “usus.” Ed anche da ciò che la cognizione del fas e del ius fu per
lungo tempo un privilegio del patriziato ed una causa della sua superiorità sopra
la plebe. In ciò può con fondamento scorgersi una prova, che queste nozioni
doveno elaborarsi in altro suolo ed essere trapiantate da genti migranti
dall'Oriente sul suolo italico, ove hanno poiservito per l'educazione di
stirpi, che si trovavano in condizioni inferiori di civiltà. Sebbene qui non
possa essere il caso di cercare in quale ordine questi varii concetti siansi
venuti formando, non è tuttavia inopportuno di avvertire, che, nelle origini,
il primo a prodursi, almeno nell'ordine dei fatti, dovette probabilmente essere
il “mos”, il quale, dopo essersi formato pressochè inconsapevolmente nel seno
delle comunanze patriarcali, viene poi mutandosi in una tradizione, che si
trasmette di genitore in figlio e che col tempo assume un carattere sacro e
religioso. È poi nel seno di questo mos primitivo, che si opera una
distinzione, in virtù della quale una parte di esso riceve una sanzione
religiosa, e l'altra una sanzione giuridica, mentre una parte continua sempre
ad avere un carattere puramen temorale e costituisce ciò che le genti latine
chiamano “i boni mores”. Intanto egli è certo, che le genti italiche si
presentano con questi varii concetti, già compiutamente formati, e che fra essi
ha già acquistata una incontestabile prevalenza quello del fas. E il fas, che
primo ha a ricevere elaborazione e a concretarsi in certe massime, riti e
pratiche, che tendono a diventare immutabili e ferme, come la volontà divina,
di cui si ritengono essere l'espressione. È poi sotto la protezione del fas,
che si vennero elaborando i concetti del ius e e dei boni mores, al modo stesso
che più tardi sarà sul modello del ius pontificium, che verrà a formarsi il ius
civile. Quasi si direbbe che, mancando ancora un'autorità abbastanza salda per
porsi alle passioni dell'uomo in un periodo di lotta e di violenza, siasi
sentita la necessità di porre sotto la protezione divina anche quelle regole,
che appariscono indispensabili per il mantenimento della convivenza sociale.
Intanto queste considerazioni intorno ai concetti fondamentali, che
costituiscono il substratum della sapienza popolare delle genti italiche, ci
preparano la via a comprendere il processo storico, secondo cui venne
svolgendosi ciascuno di essi. Il vocabolo di fas esprime per le genti italiche,
più fantastici ed immaginosi, giunsero perfino a personificare nei concetti di
Themis, Nemesis, Adrasteia. Esso è l'espressione della volontà divina, in
quanto impone e regge l'ordine delle cose divine ed umane, e vendica in modo
irresistibile le violazioni, che l'uomo rechi al medesimo colle proprie azioni.
Nel fas pertanto non è solo compresa una parte, che si riferisce ai riti e alle
cerimonie del culto, ma una parte eziandio, che contiene delle norme che
riguardano l'umana condotta. Che anzi, siccome la riverenza per il divino non è
propria di questa o di quella gente, ma è comune alle varie genti, cosi è anche
sotto la protezione del fas, che si trovano tutti quei rapporti fra le varie
genti, senza di cui sarebbe stato impossibile, che esse potessero entrare in
comunicazione le une colle altre. È quindi il fas, che determina i modi in cui
debba es sere dichiarata una guerra, e copre della sua protezione coloro, che
sono inviati a trattare le alleanze e le paci. È esso parimenti che dà un
carattere sacro a quell'istituzione dell'ospitalitá (hospitium), che ha un così
largo sviluppo presso le genti primitive, e che poi ricompare, come hospitium
publicum, dopo la formazione [Per una più larga prova di questa analogia, vedi
CARLE, La vita del di ritto, cogli autori ivi citati] della città, come pure è
il fas che consacra le obligazioni, che intercedono fra il patrono ed il
cliente. È esso, che condanna le violenze dei figli verso i genitori, le nozze
incestuose, il falso giuramento e il venir meno ai voti fatti al divino, e alle
promesse, che sotto il suggello della fides siansi fatte anche ad uno
straniero. Esso in somma nei primordii sembra abbracciare i rapporti fra i
membri della famiglia, quelli fra le varie genti, e quelli infine fra le varie
tribù; donde la conseguenza, che anche più tardi, allorchè si tratto di patti
fondamentali fra il patriziato e la plebe, questa per assicurarne l'adempimento
non trova altro mezzo, che di porre i medesimi sotto la protezione di quel fas,
che esercita tanto impero fra le genti patrizie, come lo dimostra il concetto
ispiratore delle cosi dette leges sacratae. Chi poimanchi a questo complesso di
norme, sopratutto allorchè lo faccia di proposito (dolo sciens), mentre offende
gli uomini reca pure offesa al divino, e quindi deve espiare il proprio fallo, mediante
certi sacrifizii, le cui traccie occorrono ad ogni istante nel ius pontificium
e negli scritti dei più antichi giureconsulti, che si erano formati sullo
studio di esso; i quali sacrificii prendevano il nome di piacula, e dovevansi
anche fare, allorchè altri cade in fallo per semplice imprudenza (imprudens).
Di qui si raccoglie, che già dall'epoca più remota, a cui rimontino le
tradizioni, trovasi la distinzione, almeno fra le genti patrizie, fra colui che
abbia compiuto un delitto di proposito (dolo malo, dolo sciens, prudens), e
quello invece, che l'abbia compiuto solo per imprudenza (imprudens), nel che si
avrebbe una prova, che queste genti già erano pervenute a tale da analizzare
l'atto umano e scrutare perfino l'intenzione dell'agente, sebbene più tardi il
diritto quiritario dove fare un passo in dietro, come quello che dove
applicarsi a classi, che non erano tutte giunte allo stesso grado di sviluppo. Che
se il fallo sia tale [Sul carattere delle leges sacratae è da vedersi Lange, De
sacrosanctae tribuniciae potestatis natura, eiusque origine. Lipsiae -- Sono
poi diversissime le guise, mediante cui le promesse, che non avevano ancora
sanzione giuridica, si mettevano sotto la protezione del fas. Sopratutto a ciò
serviva il giuramento, la cui larghissima applicazione, nel periodo storico,
appare dal diligente lavoro di Bertolini, Il giuramento nel diritto privato
romano. Roma. Cio è dimostrato dal fatto, che la distinzione fra l'omicidio
commesso di proposito e quello commesso per imprudenza già occorre nelle leges
regiae attribuite da non potersi espiare in questa guisa, in allora il reo
viene assoggettato ad una specie di espiazione sacrale, la cui forma tipica
consiste nella capitis sacratio. Questa dove essere pena gravissima durante il
periodo gentilizio, poichè il colpevole veniva con essa ad essere sot toposto
ad una specie di scomunica religiosa e domestica, che lo stacca dal gruppo
gentilizio, di cui faceva parte, e lo poneva in certo modo fuori della legge,
per guisa che sebbene il sacrifizio della sua vita non potesse essere accetto al
divino, esso puo pero essere ucciso impunemente da chicchesia. Di qui il
carattere di espiazione sacrale, che informa ancora tutto il diritto penale di
Roma, durante il periodo patrizio, come pure i vocaboli e i concetti di
expiatio, supplicium, di consecratio bonorum, di interdictio aqua et igni, i
quali confermano l'osservazione di Voigt, secondo la quale le genti patrizie
avrebbero ravvisato nei delitti più un'offesa al divino che non agl’uomini, a
differenza delle plebi, che risentivano di preferenza l'offesa e il danno
materiale. Non potrei quindi ammettere l'opinione di coloro, i quali,
supponendo le genti italiche in una condizione del tutto primitiva e come nella
loro infanzia, mentre sotto un certo aspetto sono già nella loro età matura,
vogliono ad ogni costo trovare nel diritto penale le traccie della vendetta. Se
cio intendasi nel senso che erano i singoli capi di famiglia, che dovevano
essere essi i vindici del proprio diritto e proseguire le offese, che loro fos
sero recate, in mancanza di un'altra autorità che lo facesse per essi, ciò può
essere facilmente ammesso. Che se invece si intenda che nella stessa comunanza
gentilizia dovessero spesseggiare una reazione violente e una vendetta, cio più
non può conciliarsi col rattere patriarcale di una comunanza, ove tutto è già
regolato dalla a Numa. V. Bruns, Fontes. Tale distinzione poi incontrasi
frequentemente in ciò, che a noi pervenne degli scritti dei pontefici dei
veteres iurisconsulti. Che anzi pare, che, secondo il Pontefice Quinto Muzio
Scevola, i fatti commessi contro il fas allora soltanto potessero espiarsi
colla piacularis hostia, quando fossero compiuti per imprudenza; mentre non
ammettevano espiazione, quando fossero commessi di proposito. Ciò appare dal
seguente passo tolto da VARRONE, De ling. lat. Praetor, qui diebus fastis tria
verba fatus est, si imprudens fecit, piacu lari hostia piatur; si prudens
dixit, Quintus Mucius ambigebat eum expiari non posse.” Altri esempi occorrono
in Huschke, Iurisp. anteiust. quae sup., Voigt, XII Tafeln] religione e dal
costume. Non potrebbe certo affermarsi che anche le genti italiche non abbiano
attraversato uno stadio, in cui dovette dominare la forza, la vendetta e la
violenza. Ma l'organizzazione patriarcale e i vincoli strettissimi di essa
erano già un mezzo per uscire da tale condizione di cosa. Quindi, se si deve
giudicare dal diritto primitivo di Roma patrizia, sarebbero così poche le
traccie, che rimangono in esso della vendetta, nel senso che suole attribuirsi
a questo vocabolo, da doverne inferire che nel periodo gentilizio la religione,
compenetratasi in ogni atto della vita, ne aveva già cacciata la vendetta ed
aveva esclusa perfino la composizione a danaro, almeno nella cerchia delle
genti patrizie. Che se il padre di famiglia può incrudelire contro la moglie e
la figlia adultera e contro l'adultero (sorpresi in flagrante), o contro il
ladro, egli lo fa più come giudice e come investito di un carattere sacerdotale,
che non come uomo, che si abbandoni all'impeto della collera e della vendetta.
La religione già incatena le passioni dell'uomo, ed è solo più fra la plebe,
che ancora si trovano le traccie della vendetta e della composizione a danaro,
le quali poi ricompariscono in qualche parte nella legislazione decemvirale,
come quella che era comune ad entrambe le classi. Fra gli autori, che cercano
di dare una larga parte alla vendetta nel diritto romano, havvi il MUIRHEAD,
Hist.introd. Egli argomenta da ciò, che colui il quale commetteva un omicidio
per imprudenza dove fare l'offerta di un ariete agli agnati dell'ucciso. Da ciò
che il vendicare la morte di un congiunto ucciso e un dovere per i superstiti
per acquetare i mani di lui. Dal diritto del padre e del marito di uccidere la
figlia o la moglie sorprese in adulterio unitamente all'adultero. Dal taglione,
le cui traccie ancora rimangono nella legislazione decemvirale, e perfino dal
diritto del creditore di chiudere nel carcere il debitore, chemancasse ai
proprii impegni. Parmi tuttavia, che di questi fatti alcuni indichino invece la
preponderanza dell'elemento religioso, e gli altri siano concessioni, che il
diritto decemvirale fece al modo di pensare e di agire proprio della plebe,
presso la quale avevano ancora certamente una più larga parte la privata
vendetta, il taglione e la composizione a danaro. Cfr. Ihering, L'esprit du
droit Romain. Trad. Meulenaere. Paris, -- ove discorre della giustizia privata
e delle forme, con cui essa e esercitata. Finchè quindi si dice, che sono i
singoli capi di famiglia, che, in mancanza di una autorità investita dal
pubblico potere, perseguono essi stessi le ingiurie e le violazioni di diritto,
di cui furono vittima, si afferma una verità indiscutibile. Ma ciò non deve più
confondersi coll'esercizio sregolato di una vendetta, che non prende norma che
dalla violenza della passione, dal momento che la religione e la consuetudine
già hanno determinato la procedura solenne, a cui egli deve attenersi per ottenere
soddisfazione dell'ingiuria o del danno sofferto, e che l'organizzazione
gentilizia ha appunto per iscopo di porre termine alla pri vata violenza fra
coloro che appartenevano alla medesima gente o tribù.Accanto però a queste
regole dell'umana condotta, che già sono munite di sanzione religiosa, sonvene
delle altre che, appoggiate unicamente al costume, costituiscono, per cosi
esprimerci, una morale. Esse vengono indicate col vocabolo di “mos patrius”, di
“mores maiorum”, di “boni mores”, e costituiscono un complesso di norme
direttive della condotta, le cui traccio si trovano più tardi ancora nel
iudicium de moribus, at tribuito al Praetor, e sopratutto nel “regimen morum”,
affidato alla custodia dei censori. Anche questi “mores maiorum” si sono venuti
formando durante il periodo gentilizio, nella cerchia sopratutto delle familia
e delle gens, e sono quelli, a cui deve essere attribuito l'obsequium e la
reverentia verso gli ascendenti, la pudicitia delle mogli e il mantenimento
della fides, anche per quelle promesse, che non fossero munite di sanzione giuridica
e che fossero fatte anche ad uno straniero. Sono questi boni mores, che da una
parte conteneno in certi confini il potere delle varie autorità, le quali,
giuridicamente considerate, apparivano senza alcun confine; e che dal l'altra
colpivano colla sanzione efficace della disistima generale della comunanza
coloro, che mancavano a certi doveri, i quali non erano muniti di sanzione
giuridica. Così, ad esempio, furono i boni mores, che ancora molto più tardi
condussero l'opinione pubblica dei cittadini Romani a condannare al disprezzo
quei prigionieri d’Annibale che, lasciati liberi sotto la condizione del
ritorno, credettero di liberarsi dalla promessa mediante lo stratagemma di
ritornare immediatamente nel campo e di sostenere di aver così attenuta la loro
[Questo concetto trovasi espresso da Publio Siro, allorchè scrive – “Etiam
hosti est aequus, qui habet in consilio fidem.” Del resto sono diversissime le
guise, con cui i filosofi esprimono l'efficacia moralmente obbligatoria delle
promesse. È qui che compariscono i concetti del pudor humani generis, del
foedus, che talvolta significa anche il patto e la convenzione, il concetto
della casta fides, quello della santità inerente alle parole, in quanto che immutabile
sanctis Pondus inest verbis; concetto che trova poi la sua espressione
giuridica nell' “uti lingua nuncupassit, ita ius esto.” Così pure nell'Andria
di Terenzio trovasi elegantemente espresso il concetto, che l'obbligazione è un
vincolo che la volontà impone a se stessa colle parole – “coactus tua voluntate
es” -- concetto che trova pur esso forma nell'assioma giuridico, “Quae ab
initio sunt voluntatis ex post facto fiunt necessitates.” Per altri esempi può
vedersi HENRIOT, Meurs juridiques et judiciaires] promessa. Del resto è sempre
questo concetto del buon costume, che tornerà poi a penetrare, per opera della
classica giurisprudenza, nella compagine soverchiamente rigida del diritto
civile romano, come lo dimostrano le considerazioni di ordine morale, che
talvolta occorrono nei grandi giureconsulti, l'influenza che esercitò mai
sempre l'existimatio anche sulla capacità di diritto, e l'introduzione
dell'infamia, della ignominia, della levis nota, che danno in certo modo una
configurazione giuridica alle varie gradazioni della publica disistima, in cui
sia incorsa una determinata persona. Al qual proposito non e inopportuno di
osservare, che quella separazione fra l'elemento esclusivamente GIURIDICO ed il
meramente morale, che tarda così lungamente ad operarsi nella scienza,
presentasi invece con una meravigliosa nettezza nel diritto di Roma, il quale,
dopo essersi separato dal fas e dai boni mores, continua logicamente la propria
via, e assunse così quel carattere di rigidezza e di logica pressochè inumana
(“dura lex, sed lex”), che solo più tardi e temperato nella classica
giurisprudenza, la quale di nuovo richiama in esso quell'alito morale, da cui
almeno in apparenza erasi dapprima compiutamente disgiunto. Intanto, per ciò
che si riferisce ai boni mores, non è più la religione, che si incarica di
punirne le violazioni, ma sono i capi stessi dei diversi gruppi, che vegliano
sovra quel retaggio del buon costume, che loro ebbe ad essere trasmesso dagli
antenati. Sono quindi il padre nella famiglia, il consiglio degl’anziani nella
gente ed il magister pagi nella tribù, che sovraintendono almantenimento di
questa morale. Mentre è poi la disistima generale della comunanza, che condanna
al disprezzo e all'isolamento coloro, che abbiano esercitato professioni
ignominiose, o abbiano mancato alla fede promessa, o abusato del potere loro
spettante, o abbiano infine commessa alcuna di quelle azioni, che, senza senza
essere colpite [Cfr. Muirhead, Hist. Introd. Basta leggere le commedie di
Plauto, e fra le altre specialmente il Trinummus, per scorgere la
significazione larghissima, che davasi al vocabolo di boni mores, e come fosse
altamente sentita l'importanza di essi di fronte alle leggi e l'impotenza di
queste, quando quelli cominciavano a venir meno. Ciò verrà ad essere largamente
provato nel ius Quiritium, dovuto ad un ' astrazione potente, mediante cui si
riuscì ad isolare l'elemento giuridico da tutti gli elementi affini.] dalla
sanzione religiosa o giuridica, incorrono però nella disapprovazione generale.
Se il modo in cui formasi questa generale opinione e l'influenza, che essa
esercita, male possono scorgersi ancora a Roma, in cui già scomparve ogni
traccia della vita patriarcale, possono invece essere anche oggidi facilmente
compresi quando si arresti lo sguardo ad una comunanza di villaggio, ove tutti
si conoscono e debbono necessariamente essere in rapporto fra di loro, ed ove
le colpe dei padri pesano più duramente sulla riputazione dei figli. Se ora si
vogliano cercare le origini del ius nel periodo gentilizio, apparisce fino
all'evidenza, che e soltanto, collocandosi in un posto intermedio, fra il fas
da una parte ed i boni mores dall'altra, che puo riuscire e farsi strada quel
ius, che dove poi ricevere cosi largo sviluppo durante il periodo della
comunanza civile e politica. Sonvi in una comunanza certi modi di operare e di
agire, che, per essere costantemente ripetuti in modo uniforme, fini scono per
acquistare un carattere pressochè obbligatorio per tutti coloro, che trovansi
in una determinata condizione sociale, e danno cosi origine non più al mos
propriamente detto, ma a quella formazione giuridica, che viene poi ad essere
indicata col vocabolo efficacissimo di “consuetudo”, il quale in certo modo
contiene in sè la propria deffinizione. Colui che manca a queste regole non
offende solo il divino e non viola solamente il buon costume, ma viene meno ad
obbligazioni, che sono imposte dalla convivenza, cui appartiene e si sottrae
cosi alle esigenze della vita sociale. Fra i fatti irreligiosi ed immorali
viene così formandosi una categoria di fatti umani, in cui appare soltanto in
seconda linea l'offesa alla religione ed alla morale, mentre viene ad essere
evidente sopratutto l'offesa [Servius, In Aen. -- VARRO valt morem esse
communem consensum omnium simul habitantium, qui inveteratus *consuetudinem*
facit ». Del resto questo passaggio del costume, che ha carattere meramente
MORALE, in *consuetudine*, che ha carattere strittamente GIURIDICO, è indicato
anche da molti passi dei giureconsulti, che possono trovarsi raccolti
nell'Heumann, “Handlexicon zu den Quellen des römisches Rechts”. Jena, Va Mos e
Consuetudo] alla comunanza, a cui altri appartiene e il danno che vengono a
soffrirne gli altri membri della comunanza. Di qui la conseguenza, che comincia
già ad operarsi, nel seno delle comunanze anche patriarcali, come una specie di
selezione, per cui dal complesso dei precetti religiosi e morali se ne vengono
sceverando alcuni, che assumono il carattere *giuridico* propriamente detto.
Naturalmente questo lavoro di selezione non può ancora spingersi molto oltre,
fino a che trattasi di una comunanza, che adempie a funzioni domestiche,
religiose e civili ad un tempo. Ma intanto già comincia ad avvertirsi il
carattere particolare di certi precetti, che appariscono più rigidi di quelli
puramente morali e religiosi, per ottenere l'adempimento dei quali non può più
bastare una sanzione meramente religiosa, né la disistima generale, ma vuolsi
una specie di sanzione co-attiva da parte della intiera comunanza e
dell'autorità che la governa. Al modo stesso, che già fra le genti e le tribù
si vengono gradatamente svolgendo quelle arces, quegli oppida, quei
conciliabula, quei fora, che sono il primo nucleo, intorno a cui verrà poi a svolgersi
l'urbs e la civitas; cosi, anche frammezzo ad una convivenza, i cui precetti
hanno ancora sopratutto un carattere religioso e morale, già cominciano a
presentarsene alcuni, che assumono un carattere civile e politico. Che anzi,
per continuare nello stesso paragone, al modo stesso che Roma, limitata
dapprima ad essere il rifugio degli abitanti dei villaggi, viene poi ad essere
il luogo, ove si amministra la giustizia e si tengono le riunioni, e viene
infine ad abbracciare nella sua cerchia anche le abitazioni private, e a
sottrarre all'organizzazione domestica e gentilizia tutte quelle funzioni di
carattere civile e politico, a cui essa prima adempiva; così anche [Questo
concetto, per cui chi manca al diritto offende non solo l'individuo, ma reca un
danno alla intiera comunanza, che ora noi diremmo danno sociale, è un concetto
profondamente sentito dai romani, il quale ha ad essere variamente espresso dai
filosfi latini. Basti riportare dall'Henriot questi versi di Pubblio Siro:
Multis minatur, qui uni facit iniuria: Tuti sunt omnes, ubi defenditur unus;
Omne ius supra omnem iniuriam positum est. O quello di Orazio: « nam tua res
agitur, paries quum proximus ardet ». Come pure le frequenti scene di Plauto e
di TERENZIO, in cui una persona ingiuriata chiama gli altri testi in testimonio
e chiede aiuto con formole, che hanno una precisione giuridica: “Obsecro vos,
populares, ferte misero atque innocenti auxilium. Ovvero: Obsecro vestram fidem,
subvenite cives ».] questo primo nucleo di precetti giuridici, che negli inizii
abbisogna ancora dell'appoggio della religione e del costume e si modella sul
fas, viene col tempo accrescendosi sempre più, e richiamando a se una quantità
di precetti, i quali nell'organizzazione anteriore non hanno che un carattere
religioso o MORALE. Per tal guisa il ius viene in certo modo accrescendosi a
spese degl’elementi, da cui si è staccato. Quando poi sentesi forte abbastanza
per procedere per proprio conto, afferma senz'altro la propria indipendenza, e
assume, per opera dei romani, un processo tutto speciale nel proprio
svolgimento, che chiamasi appunto iuris ratio, mediante cui finisce per qualche
tempo per isolarsi anche troppo da quegli elementi, da cui ricava il suo
primitivo nutrimento. Quel carattere pertanto di rigidezza, che suole
condannarsi nel diritto dei Quiriti, è la miglior prova della sua potenza ed
energia; perchè indica come l'elemento giuridico ormai fosse giunto a tale da
potersi svolgere senza più tener conto della considerazione MORALE o religiose --
al modo stesso che Roma, teatro del suo svolgimento, ormai e pervenuta a tale
da cercare ancor essa di spogliarsi di ogni traccia della influenza gentilizia
e patriarcale. Questo è poi degno di nota, che anche quando il ius viene ad
affermare la propria esistenza separata continua pur sempre a svolgersi sotto
due forme, che corrispondono alle due sorgenti da cui esso ebbe a derivarsi.
Havvi infatti la parte, in cui il diritto cerca in certo modo di imitare la
solennità del fas, ed è quella in cui esso viene ad essere rivestito della
forma di “lex.” Quando cioè il popolo, interrogato dal magistrato, dà una forma
solenne ed espressa alla propria volontà – “iubet atque constituit” -- creando
cosi il “ius legibus introductum”. Intanto si mantiene sempre un altro aspetto
del ius, in cui la volontà collettiva del popolo si manifesta nella formazione
lenta delle proprie consuetudini, che i romani considerano come il frutto di
una tacita civium conventio – “ius moribus constitutum”. Ad ognimodo però il
ius, prenda esso il carattere di una *regola*, che il popolo pone a sè stesso,
o di una norma, che formisi tacitamente nel costume, è pur sempre il frutto di
un accordo espresso e tacito dei cittadini, e deve essere considerato come
l'espressione di una volontà comune, che si sovrappone alla volontà dei singoli
individui. Finchè esso è in via di formazione può essere argomento di
discussioni, le quali hanno luogo nelle riunioni meno solenni del popolo, che
chiamansi contiones; ma allorchè la legge viene ad essere posta e costituita
con quei riti solenni, che accompagnano i comizii, la vox populi viene ad
essere considerata come vox dei, e debbono ubbidirvi tutti coloro, che
cooperarono a formarla, non eccettuati quelli che erano di avviso contrario. Vi
ha di più, ed è che accanto a questo dualismo se ne delinea ben presto un altro,
per cui distinguesi una parte del diritto, che si riferisce all'interesse
generale della comunanza, e chiamasi ius publicum; e una parte invece, che si
riferisce all'interesse parti colare delle famiglie e delli individui, che
entrano a costituirla, e chiamasi ius privatum. Il primo si forma sulla piazza
e nel foro, fra gli urti ed i conflitti delle varie classi, lascia le sue
traccie nella storia politica di Roma, e si esplica mediante gli accordi e le
transazioni, cheavvengono fra patriziato e plebe. L’altro viene elaborandosi
pressochè tacitamente nella coscienza generale del popolo, e trova i suoi
interpreti nei pontefici e nei giureconsulti. Intanto però l'uno e l'altro sono
in certa guisa atteggiamenti diversi di un medesimo diritto, in quanto che il
di ritto pubblico è in certo modo il palladio, sotto la cui protezione può
nascere e svolgersi il diritto private. Insomma al modo stesso, che l'urbs e il
frutto di una lenta formazione, mediante cui si vennero sceverando dalle
abitazioni pri vate gl’edifizii aventi pubblica destinazione, e che il formarsi
della civitas e del populus si dovette al raccogliersi e al riunirsi di tutti
gli uomini (viri) che col braccio o col consiglio potevano provve dere alla
difesa ed all'interesse comune; cosi anche la formazione del diritto e
attribuita ad una specie di elaborazione, che venne operandosi nella coscienza
generale di un popolo, e all'attrito dei varii elementi, che entravano a
costituirlo, [È da vedersi, quanto alla distinzione fra diritto pubblico e
privato, Savigny, Sistema del diritto privato romano, trad. Scialoia. Sopratutto
importa il notare, che il diritto pubblico e il privato, nel concetto romano,
sono due atteggiamenti diversi del medesimo diritto – “duae positions” -- e non
deve essere dimenticato il detto, che Bacone certo ricava dallo spirito del
diritto romano, secondo cui “ius privatum sub tutela iuris publici latet”, De
augm. scient., de iust. univ. Quanto alle altre suddistinzioni, che presentansi
nel campo del diritto, è da consultarsi Voigt, Die XII Tafeln, come pure lo
stesso autore, Das ius naturale, gentium etc. Leipzig] mediante cui da tutti
gli elementi morali e religiosi, che già si erano formati durante il periodo
gentilizio, si vennero sceverando tutti quelli, che potevano ritenersi
indispensabili per il mantenimento della convivenza civile e politica. Roma insomma
che, piccola dapprima e limitata a pochi edifizii, si venne però sempre
ingrandendo a spese delle comunanze di villaggio, che erano entrate a
costituirla, deve essere considerata come il crogiuolo, in cui si gettarono
indistintamente tutti gl’elementi della vita patriarcale, per sceverarne ed
isolarne quella parte, che ha un carattere essenzialmente giuridico, politico e
militare. E questa una specie di chimica scomposizione, che un popolo
mirabilmente atto a sceverare nel fatto umano tutto ciò, che in esso si
presenti di giuridico, e a concretarlo in forme tipiche e precise, venne in
certo modo compiendo a benefizio del genere umano. Espresse quindi una grande
verità il filosofo coll'esclamare: Fuit sapientia quondam Publica privatis
secernere sacra profanes. Poichè tale veramente e il compito delle città
primitive e quello sopratutto di Roma. Il nucleo di questi precetti, di
carattere esclusivamente giuri dico, e dapprima assai scarso, e si ridusse a
quel poco che Roma, ancora nei proprii esordii, poteva sottrarre ad
un'organizzazione come la gentilizia, che ancora aveva tutta la sua vitalità ed
energia. Poscia però col crescere di Roma, coll'estendersi delle sue mura, col
fondersi insieme degli elemeuti, che entrano a costituirla, coll'in corporarsi
di nuovi elementi nel populus, quel ius, che prima ha solo una posizione
subordinata, si cambiò invece in tutore e custode della vita pubblica e privata,
ed e riconosciuto come sovrano nel seno della comunanza civile e politica. E
allora che, consapevole della propria forza e dell'ufficio, che gli e affidato,
si riaccosta di nuovo a quell'elemento religioso e sopratutto etico, da cui
aveva dovuto disgiungersi, allorchè nel periodo della propria formazione non
riconosce più altra guida, che una logica esclusivamente giu ridica – “iuris
ratio”. Di qui intanto deriva la conseguenza, che Roma, pur ricevendo [Orazio,
Ars poetica] le proprie istituzioni dal passato, ci fa però assistere alla
formazione lenta e graduata di un diritto, che venne adattandosi alle esigenze
della convivenza civile e politica, e differenziandosi sotto molteplici
aspetti. Questo diritto tuttavia può essere logicamente spiegato in tutto il
suo processo, ed anche nelle distinzioni che comparvero in esso, in quanto che
è stato veramente una costruzione logica e coe rente in tutte le sue parti, che
venne svolgendosi “rebus ipsis dictantibus et necessitate exigente.” Che questo
sia stato veramente il processo, con cui si esplica il diritto in Roma, risulta
poi con tanta evidenza dallo svolgersi della comunanza romana, che per ora non
occorre altra dimostrazione. Bensi importa, ed è assai più difficile
determinare, quali siano i rapporti, che primi hanno ad assumere un carattere
giuridico, e quali siano stati gli aspetti essenziali, sotto cui si presenta questo
primitivo diritto presso le antiche genti italiche. Finchè noi siamo nelle mura
domestiche e nel seno della famiglia la religione comune, la riverenza verso il
proprio capo, il suo carattere patriarcale, il suo potere pressochè senza
confini, non che l'autorità moderatrice di quel consiglio o consesso di parenti,
da cui egli è circondato, creano un'organizzazione di tale natura, che può
bastare a qualsiasi emergenza, senza che occorra perciò di ricorrere al diritto
propriamente detto. Che anzi, se il diritto cerca di penetrare nelle mura
domestiche, la fiera indipendenza dei padri riguarderebbe ciò come una
violazione del proprio domicilio ed una usurpazione della propria autorità,
come lo dimostra ancora il padre di Orazio, uccisore della sorella, allorchè
osserva che, se il proprio figlio non ha a ragione uccisa la sorella – “iure
caesam” -- e toccato a lui di provvedere. Se quindi la moglie, i figli, gli
schiavi manchino a quei doveri, che sono fissati dal costume e consacrati dalla
religione, e il padre stesso, che e vindice dei loro [Liv., Hist., I, 24. Di
qui si può' raccogliere, come non possa ammettersi l'opinione di coloro, i
quali vorrebbero senz'altro attribuire al re, come primo magistrato di Roma, la
giurisdizione per giudicare di qualsiasi misfatto. CLARK, Early roman law. Deve
invece ritenersi a questo riguardo col MuiruEAD, Histor. che la giurisdizione
criminale del re o magistrato venne gradatamente svolgendosi frammezzo alla
giurisdizione dei capi di famiglia, e a quella che apparteneva alle singole
genti, quanto ai delitti, che erano commessi da membri, che entravano a
costituirle.] falli, salvo che in certi casi di maggior gravità, come quando
trattisi della moglie adultera, non stata sorpresa in flagrante, egli dove circondarsi
del tribunale domestico e pronunziare la condanna, dopo averne sentito l'avviso.
Allorchè poi l'azione, che reca danno altrui, sia stata compiuta da un altro
capo di famiglia, o da persona soggetta al potere del medesimo, e fra i due
capi di famiglia, che la questione e risolta, e se quest'ultimo non intenda di
riparare il danno arrecato dal suo dipendente, non ha nulla di ripugnante al
modo di pensare dell'epoca, che egli consegni la persona, che ha recato il
danno, al capo di famiglia, che ha a soffrirlo, mediante l'antichissimo
istituto delle noxae deditio. Cosi pure [È noto a questo proposito come nel diritto,
distinguasi fra “noxia” e “noxa”, per cui mentre il vocabolo “noxia” significa
il danno, veniva anche dai filosofi adoperato per significare la colpa, mentre
il vocabolo “noxa” si adopera per significare il peccato, il delitto, ed anche
la pena di esso -- donde la espres sione di noxae deditio, la quale trova poi
una larga applicazione, tanto nei rapporti fra i capi di famiglia, quanto
eziandio nei rapporti fra le varie genti e tribù nel “ius pacis ac belli” nel
periodo gentilizio. V. Festo, vº Noxia (Bruns, Fontes). Intanto dalla estesa
comprensività del vocabolo di “noxa” o di “nocia”, nella sua significazione
primitiva, parmi di poter inferire con fondamento, che nelle origini uno stesso
vocabolo significa ad un tempo la colpa, che cagionava il danno, e il danno,
che deriva da essa, e che non dove esservi distinzione fra colpa e danno di
carattere civile e colpa e danno di carattere penale, come neppure dove
distinguersi fra colpa contrattuale ed extra-contrattuale od aquiliana. I
concetti e i vocaboli sono sinteticamente potenti nel diritto romano, ed è solo
col tempo, che in essi si osservano quegli atteggiamenti diversi, che
costituiscono poi altrettante configurazioni giuridiche di un unico concetto
fondamentale. Un altro carattere del diritto si è anche questo, che esso prende
di regola le mosse da un vocabolo di significazione materiale, e poi gli
attribuisce una significazione sempre più estesa e perfino traslata o figurate.
Abbiamo un esempio di ciò nel vocabolo “rupere”, che significa il rompere
materialmente un membro, od altra cosa; ma fu poscia recato ad una significazione
traslata, attestataci da Festo, per cui rupere significa damnum dare, al modo
stesso che rupitias e ruptiones finiscono per significare ogni maniera di
danno. È uno dei processi più consueti nel diritto di Roma, quello per cui una
volta formato un concetto od un vocabolo giuridico non si teme di estenderlo a
tutte le configurazioni affini. Come si estese il parricidium ad ogni uccisione
di un uomo libero. Così il membrum rupere o la rupitias, essendo stato il
danno, che prima ebbe ad essere configurato giuridicamente, passa poi ad
indicare qualsiasi danno. Rimando in proposito al dottissimo lavoro del collega
G. P. Cuironi, “La colpa nel diritto civile” (Torino). Di quest'opera credo di
poter dire, senza offendere la modestia dell'amico, che servirà a rimettere in
onore fra noi quel mirabile magistero, che ha fatto la] gli è tenendo conto
della posizione rispettiva, in cui in questo periodo si trovano due capi di
famiglia, che si può comprendere il nascere e lo svolgersi di certe procedure,
che più tardi appariscono strane e pressochè incomprensibili. Tale è, per dare
un esempio, quella del “furtum lance lincioque conceptum”, in cui abbiamo un
capo di famiglia, che ricercando una cosa statagli derubata può ottenere di
entrare nella casa del vicino, in cui teme sia stata nascosta; ma cio a
condizione di fare anzitutto una libazione propiziatoria ai lari della casa, in
cui egli si inoltra, il che è dimostrato dal piatto, che egli tiene fra mano
(lance), e intanto deve stringersi la persona con un cingolo (lincio), che gli
impedisca di nascondere qualsiasi oggetto. Sembra però, che questa
perquisizione domiciliare dove per un senso di pudicizia arrestarsi dinanzi al
cubiculum della moglie, con che però il capo di casa giurasse che nulla di
derubato vi era stato nascosto. Del resto in questa condi grandezza della
giurisprudenza romana, secondo cui, una volta che si è formata una
configurazione giuridica, la medesima non deve più essere perduta di vista
nelle in definite trasformazioni e distinzioni, che pud subire nelle
vicissitudini delle legislazioni e della giurisprudenza, ma deve sempre essere
richiamata alle proprie origini e seguita nella sua dialettica fondamentale.
L'autore tratta dei concetti di “rupere”, di “rupitias”, di culpa della lex
Aquilia.] Esmein in “La poursuite du vol et le serment purgatoire”, trova le
traccie di una procedura analoga a quella, che seguivasi per il “furtum lance
lincioque conceptum”, anche presso il popolo di Israele nel fatto di Rachele,
che avendo sottratti gli idoli di Labano, li aveva poi nascosti sotto le
coperte del cammello, sovra cui essa si era seduta; come pure nel fatto narrato
da MACROBIO, Saturnalia, I, 1, cap. VI in fine, ove si narra di un Tremellio, a
cui sarebbesi imposto il soprannome di Scrofa, perchè avendo rubata una scrofa
uccisa, aveva poi fatto sedere sopra di essa la propria moglie, e aveva
giurato, in via di purgazione, che colà non eravi altra scrofa, fuori di
quella. Ciò dimostra come questa procedura siasi naturalmente formata presso
popoli diversi. Ma non posso convenire nell'apprezzamento dell'autore, per cui
nelle epoche primitive non si guarderebbe che all'adempimento delle forme
esteriori della procedura. Poichè nel fatto stesso citato da MACROBIO, noi
abbiamo l'opinione generale, che segna a dito colui, che ricorse a
quell'ignobile stratagemma, imponendogli il soprannome di Scrofa (Esmein,
Mélanges d'histoire de droit, Paris). L'autore poi, il quale avvertì che il
piatto, tenuto fra mani da colui, che ricerca la cosa derubata nel “furtum
lance lincioque conceptum”, ricorda in certo modo la libazione propiziatoria ai
lari e ai penati, che dovevasi fare prima di metter piede nella casa altrui, è
Leist, Graec. Ital. R. G. Sul “furtum lancie lincioque conceptum” è da vedersi il
saggio di Gulli, “Del furtum conceptum secondo la legge delle XII Tavole.
Bologna] zione di cose, mancando ancora un'autorità, che siasi fatta ella
stessa investigatrice e punitrice dei misfatti, si comprendeche sia il derubato
che prosegue il ladro, il marito offeso che tenga dietro all'adultero e
sorpreso l'uccida, e si richiederà ancora lungo tempo prima che, in Roma, l'autorità
pubblica si incarichi direttamente della punizione di questi e di altri
misfatti. Che se la riparazione non venga ad essere accordata all'offeso, e
anche naturale, che impegnisi una lotta fra le due famiglie, e che associandosi
alle medesime le genti, a cui esse appartengono, il DUELLO mutisi talvolta in
un conflitto fra le due genti, ed anche in una guerra fra le tribù, di cui esse
entrano a far parte. Cosi è pure dei rapporti interni fra i diversi membri, che
entrano a costituire la gente, quali sono i rapporti fra il patrono ed il
cliente, ed anche i doveri della ospitalità, poichè essi cadono sotto la
protezione religiosa, e le violazioni di essi sono punite mediante la pubblica
disistima, e coll'intervento dell'autorità patriarcale e del consiglio degl’anziani,
custodi e vindici delle tradizioni dei maggiori. Siccome però nella gente già
vengono ad esservi diversi capi di famiglia, che hanno una propria familia, un
proprio “heredium”, un proprio “peculium”. Cosi comprendesi come nel “vicus”
già puo sorgere delle controversie di carattere GIURIDICO fra i diversi padri.
Controversie che talvolta possono anche essere rese più accanite dal vincolo
stesso di parentela, che intercede fra le famiglie che appartengono alla
medesima gente. È tuttavia ancora sempre verosimile, che l'interporsi di
qualche anziano, che goda la fiducia comune dei contendenti, possa indurli ad
un amichevole componimento. Il che spiega come nei vici siavi sempre un luogo
per il mercato, in quanto che la distinzione del mio e del tuo già rende
possibile il commercium, manon vi si rinvenga sempre il luogo per amministrare
giustizia. Infatti, il carattere esclusivamente patriarcale dei rapporti, che
intercedono fra i membri di essa, rendono [Ciò accade sopratutto, quanto
all'adulterio, che comincia a formare oggetto di un “iudicium publicum” solo
colla legge Iulia, De adulteriis, che e una di quelle con cui Ottaviano cerca,
ancorchè con poco frutto, di far rivivere il buon costume. [In proposito
l'interessante articolo dell'Esmein, “Le délit d'adultère à Rome e la loi Iulia,
De adulteriis” – “Mélanges d'histoire de droit”. Quanto al vicus e al difetto,
che talora trovasi in esso di un magistrato per amministrarvi giustizia] ripugnante
l'idea di una vera e propria lite, non solo fra patrono e cliente, ma anche fra
i padri o capi di famiglia, che discendono dal medesimo antenato e hanno per
mettersi d'accordo fra di loro l'autorità dei proprii anziani. Nella tribù
invece, già si trovano di fronte capi di famiglia, che appartengono a genti
diverse e che più non discendono dal medesimo antenato, nè partecipano allo
stesso culto gentilizio. Quindi già viene ad imporsi il bisogno di provvedere
in qualche modo all'amministrazione della giustizia, più non essendovi
un'autorità di carattere esclusivamente patriarcale, che possa imporsi ai capi
di famiglia, che sono di discendenza e d'origine diversa. Dovette quindi
probabilmente essere questa necessità di provve dere all'amministrazione della
giustizia, che suggere l'idea di una autorità chiamata a dirigere e ad
amministrare il pagus – “magister pagi” -- , la cui primitiva destinazione è
ancora indicata dai nomi di “iudex” e di “praetor”, ed anche da quello di “tribunal”
(derivato certamente da “tribus”), che significa dapprima il seggio, più
elevato sovra cui collocavasi quegli che e chiamato ad amministrare giustizia,
e indica così anche esteriormente la posizione cospicua, in cui egli trovavasi
di fronte agli altri membri della comunanza. Queste controversie intanto non puo
naturalmente sorgere che fra i varii capi di famiglia, i quali, memori delle
loro tradizioni, sono dapprima troppo altamente compresi del proprio diritto,
perchè sia necessario che intervenga una legge a dichiarare quello che loro
appartenga. Ma hanno piuttosto bisogno di essere contenuti nell'esercizio
violento delle proprie ragioni e di conoscere il processo, che deve seguire per
ottenere giustizia, senza dover ricorrere alla privata violenza. È questo il
motivo, per cui presso tutti i popoli la prima forma che giunse ad assumere il
diritto e quella dell' “actio”, che è il complesso degli atti e dei riti
solenni, che si debbono compiere per far valere il proprio diritto davanti al magistrate.
Atti e riti solenni, che presso genti come le latine, le quali imitano coi
gesti e coi riti. La posizione elevata del tribunal, sovra cui trovasi assiso
il magistrato, perchè – “sedendo quiescit animus, et sedendo ac quiescendo fit
animus prudens” -- trovasi soventi accennata dai filosofi latini, come indizio
della dignità, a cui era assunto colui, che e chiamato ad amministrare
giustizia. V. Henriot, “Mæurs juridiques et judi ciaires de l'ancienne Rome”).]
giudiziarii, ciò che un tempo dovette seguire nei fatti, finiranno per
contenere una storia simbolica dei varii stadii, per cui dovette passare
l'amministrazione della giustizia, prima di giungere ad essere accettata e
riconosciuta dallo spirito fiero ed indipendente dei primi capi di famiglia.
Che se si volesse spingere anche più oltre questa ri-costruzione logica e
concettuale del diritto romano, che ha a svolgersi nel seno della tribù,
potrebbe affermarsi con certezza, che le due prime figure di rei, contro cui la
giustizia umana associa i proprii sforzi colla giustizia divina e colla
esecrazione della generale opinione, dove essere quella del parricidas e del
perduellis. Ivi infatti è sopratutto l'uccisione del padre di famiglia, che per
il carattere patriarcale della comunanza viene ad essere considerato come padre
rimpetto a tutti i membri di essa, i quali talvolta continuano ancora a
chiamarsi col nome di fratelli, che è il grande misfatto contro la legge umana
e divina, il quale puo mettere in lotta le famiglie fra di loro, ed anche
rimanere impunito, quando l'autorità comune non si mette in movimento contro di
esso. Nè ripugna al carattere della comunanza patriarcale, che la punizione del
parricida acquistasse in certo modo un carattere tradizionale e fosse
accompagnata da certe pratiche, che possono anche avere un significato
simbolico, e che potrebbero anche essere state portate dall'Oriente. Tali sono
quelle, che più tardi ancora accompagnano la punizione del parricida; pratiche
tradizionali, che anche oggi in parte sopravvivono e non possono dirsi
compiutamente abbandonate anche presso le nazioni civili. Così pure dovette
essere un processo del tutto natu [Questa circostanza, che tutti i membri della
comunanza patriarcale si chiamano fratelli, è attestata dal Sumner MAINE, “The
early history of institutions”, e qualche cosa di analogo dovette accadere
ancora nella tribù italica, ove non vi ha dubbio, che i capi di famiglia sono
generalmente indicati col vocabolo di patres; poichè di questo stato di cose
rimasero ancora le traccie in Roma. È nota la punizione tradizionale contro il
parricida, ricordata ancora nel Digesto: “Poena parricidii more maiorum haec
instituta est, ut parricida, virgis sanguineis verberatus, deinde culleo
insuatur cum cane, gallo gallinaceo et vipera et simia; deinde in mare
profundum culleus iactatur ». Qui il giure-consulto lascia travedere, che la
pena del parricidio e conservata nel costume e trasmessa per via tradizionale –
“mos maiorum”. Essa pertanto dopo essersi mantenuta nel costume più che nella
legge, contro i parricidi in senso stretto, ha poi ad essere sanzionata dalla
lex POMPEIA, De parricidiis] rale, che condusse l'opinione generale di una
comunanza patriarcale a ravvisare un nemico in colui, che getta la
perturbazione nella comunanza stessa e si disponeva a tradirla coi nemici di
essa. Cosicchè non dubitarono di applicargli il nome stesso, che davano al
nemico, con cui erano in guerra, il qual nome era quello appunto di “perduellis”.
Cio intanto darebbe una spiegazione molto probabile e naturale del fatto, che fa
meravigliare gli stessi romani, per cui Romolo, prima e Numa, dopo chiamare col
nome di “parricidas” anche l'uccisore di un uomo libero, non che di quello per
cui le prime e sole autorità incaricate di perseguire e punire i mi sfatti in
Roma avrebbero assunto il nome di “quaestores parricidii” e di “duumviri
perduellionis”. Anche qui la legislazione di Roma comincia dal riconoscere come
pubblici reati quelli, che già hanno cominciato ad assumere questo carattere
nello stesso periodo gentilizio, e a questi sarebbe poi venuta aggiungendo man
mano quelli la cui repressione appare necessaria. Vi ha di più, ed è che nella
tribù già si incomincia la formazione di due ordini diversi di persone, che
sono i patrizi e i plebei, i quali ultimi più non entrano nei quadri
dell'organizzazione gentilizia, ma già cominciano ad es sere indipendenti dal
patriziato, sebbene ancora si trovino in condizione assai inferiore e non
abbiano potuto ancora dimenticare la loro antica origine servile. Di fronte a
questa condizione parmi non sia temeraria la congettura, che mi permetto di
avventurare, secondo cui, nel periodo della tribù e nel seno del pagus, non
dovette soltanto cominciarsi lo svolgimento dell'elemento giuridico, ma questo
diritto primitivo dovette assumere due forme essenziali; in quanto che altro
dovette essere il diritto, che governava i rapporti fra i padri, che
appartenevano alla stessa comunanza gentilizia, ispirato all'idea della loro
parità ed uguaglianza di condizione; ed altro invece il diritto, che venne a
svolgersi nei rapporti, che necessariamente dovettero stabilirsi fra l'ordine
superiore dei padri e quello INFERIORE della plebe, il quale non potè a meno di
ritenere qualche traccia della superiorità che [La questione del “parricidium”
e della perduellio scorreno delle leges regiae.] si attribuivano i primi e
dell'inferiorità di condizione, in cui sanno di trovarsi i secondi. È solo col
dare la debita parte a queste due forme del diritto, le quali del resto trovano
la loro base nelle condizioni di fatto dei due ordini, che si possono spiegare
certe istituzioni del diritto romano, quali sarebbero quelle del “mancipium”,
del “nexum”, della “manus iniectio” e simili; le quali sono tutte forme
giuridiche, che non trovarono applicazione nei rapporti fra i padri e i loro
discendenti patrizii, ma soltanto nei rapporti fra i patrizii ed i plebei. Se
si comprende infatti che un plebeo, il quale non ha altra garanzia da dare che
quella della propria persona, e costretto a dare a mancipio sè stesso o la
propria figliuolanza, o ad obbligarsi con quella severità, che era propria del
nexum, e che il patrizio insoddisfatto puo mettere la mano sopra di lui e
trascinarlo nel suo carcere, mediante la procedura della “manus iniectio”. Questi
modi di procedere non si possono invece comprendere fra due capi di famiglia
appartenenti alle genti patrizie. Nè serve il dire, che queste istituzioni
passarono poi effettivamente nel diritto quiritario; poichè anche questo e
l'opera dei patrizii, i quali, dettandolo, hanno sopratutto per iscopo di
governare e di reggere le plebi. Di più è un processo del tutto romano quello
per cui, quando si è creato un vocabolo o un concetto, non si dubita di
trapiantarlo in condizioni anche diverse da quella in cui ebbe a formarsi. E quindi
opportuno tentare la ricostruzione dell'una e dell'altra forma di questo
diritto per trovare in esso la spiegazione alcune singolarità del tutto
peculiari al diritto quiritario. Lo svolgimento di questa teorica tratta
appunto di alcuni primitivi concetti del diritto quiritario. I giureconsulti
col dire che il “ius hominum causa constitutum est”, enunciarono una verità che
trova una piena conferma nei fatti, quando seguasi il processo, con cui il
diritto vennesi formando fra le genti del Lazio. Finchè trattasi di persone che
appartenno al medesimo gruppo, il fas, il mos e l'autorità patriarcale,
stabiliti in seno delle varie aggregazioni, possono bastare a qualsiasi
emergenza. Così invece non era, allorchè i capi di fa miglie, appartenenti ai
diversi gruppi, venivano a mettersi in rapporto fra di loro; poichè in allora,
mancando la comune discendenza e l'autorità patriarcale di un capo, convenne di
necessità porre le reciproche obligazioni sotto l'impero di un comune diritto.
Di qui provennero alcuni caratteri importantissimidel diritto, che possono
spargere molta luce sulla formazione del diritto quiritario, e dileguare una
quantità di sottigliezze, che furono immaginate per spiegare quel diritto,
senza cercarne la causa nelle condizioni sociali che ne determinano la
formazione. Il primo di tali caratteri sta in questo, che i rapporti giuridici,
sorgeno dapprima fra i capi di gruppo, anzi che fra i singoli individui, che sono
assorbiti ed unificati nel medesimo. Di qui le solennità, che dove
necessariamente accompagnarne gl’atti, come quelli che non riguardavano gli
interessi particolari di questo o di quell'individuo; ma si rifereno
all'interesse dell'intiero gruppo da lui rappresentato, e così hanno, per usare
il linguaggio moderno, un'importanza pressochè internazionale. Non fu pertanto
amore di formalismo, che guida un popolo così eminentemente pratico come il
romano nella formazione del proprio diritto; ma questo, nei suoi esordii apparve
ingombro di formalità e difinzioni, solo perchè, dopo essere stato preparato in
un periodo di organizzazione sociale, e trapiantato in un altro dallo spirito
conservatore del popolo romano. Anzichè archittettare formalità artificiose, i
romani si valgono invece di quelle, che si sono formate nella realtà dei fatti
in un periodo anteriore, e con piccole modificazioni, che sono rese necessarie
dalle nuove esigenze, fanno entrare in esse i rapporti, che si vengono
svolgendo più tardi nella comunanza civile e politica. Nel che seguono un
processo, che non abbandonno neppure più tardi; quello cioè di non creare
giammai una forma novella, finchè quella già prima [Il formalismo è certo uno
dei caratteri più salienti del diritto di Roma. Si comprende quindi, che I
filosofi se ne siano largamente occupati e fra gli altri il SUMNER Maine,
L'ancien droit, in cui si occupa delle finzioni legali, e sopratutto poi
JHERING, che ha a dedicarvi buona parte del “L'esprit du droit Romain”. La
conclusione, a cui sarebbero venuti questi filosofi, e, che questo formalismo
del diritto di Roma dove essere attribuito alla predilezione del popolo romano
per l'elemento esteriore; carattere, che Roma avrebbe comune con tutti i
popoli, e proveniente da ciò, che i medesimi riguardano più alla forma che alla
sostanza. Senza voler qui entrare in una discussione, che mitrarrebbe troppo in
lungo, mi limito unicamente ad osservare, che il formalismo non è un fenomeno,
che comparisca presso tutti i popoli. Esso compare soltanto, al lorchè
istituzioni formatesi in un'epoca si trasportano in un'altra, in cui più non si
comprenda la significazione delle medesime. Dei popoli non si può dire, che
essi siano amici della formalità; perchè essi cercano di esprimere ciò che
sentono col gesto, cogli atti e colle parole ad un tempo, e quindi hanno una
mimica, la quale, anzichè essere artificiosa ed architettata, tende ad essere
l'espressione effettiva e reale delle loro sensazioni ed emozioni. Quindi, il
formalismo, anzichè essere l'indizio di un popolo, è invece l'effetto dello
spirito conservatore, che trasporta una forma creata in un periodo ad un altro,
in cui esse hanno perduto qualsiasi significazione. Tutte le forme che si
conservano come tali sono sopravvivenze di un'epoca trascorsa, che sono
trapiantate in un'altra, la quale più non le capisce, e quindi si limita ad
osservarle pressochè materialmente. Ciò accade nella religione, nella morale,
nel di ritto, e accadde certamente nel diritto di Roma, il quale, se divenne
formalista, e perchè il patriziato romano vuole conservare le vestigia del
passato e fare entrare nella forma preparata nel periodo gentilizio un nuovo rapporto
che e creato dalla convivenza civile e politica colla plebe. Non è quindi da
ammettersi, che la forma esteriore del diritto si elabori prima della sostanza
di esso; nè che i popoli primitivi diano maggior importanza alla forma, che
alla sostanza. Forma e sostanza invece si presentano dapprima indissolubilmente
congiunte, ed è solo più tardi, allorchè si vorrebbero conservare la forma
antica, e fare entrare nelle medesime una sostanza nuova, che si viene alla
conseguenza, per cui “a forma dat esse rei”. Ciò che accade nel diritto,
avverasi eziandio nel linguaggio, il quale nella sua formazione adatta la parola
al concetto; il che non impedisce pero, che più tardi, trasportandosi la stessa
parola ad un altro concetto, si venga alle significazioni traslate, la cui
origine può talvolta essere poi difficilmente compresa.] esistente possa ancora
bastare al bisogno. Del resto non può neppure dirsi, che negli inizii di Roma
questo diritto e veramente disacconcio, dal momento che allora soltanto si usce
da una condizione di cose, in cui il padre rappresenta effettivamente quel
complesso di persone e di cose, che dipendeno da esso. Quindi e naturale che
per qualche tempo il diritto conserva quel medesimo carattere, che aveva
acquistato durante il periodo gentilizio. Solo comincia a diventare artificioso
e disadatto alle nuove condizioni sociali il diritto di Roma, quando al PADRE
si venne sostituendo il CITTADINO, e più ancora quando al cittadino si sostitui
L’UOMO LIBERO e L’UOMO NUOVO. Del resto non è poi difficile il ricostruirsi nel
pensiero un'organizzazione, in cui sia veramente il PADRE, che compia tutto
ciò, che si riferisce al gruppo da lui rappresentato, per guisa, che esso sia PADRE
(quanto ai figlio), PADRONE (quanto al servo), PATRONO (quanto al cliente), e
rappresenti il gruppo da lui governato, ogni qualvolta trattasi di entrare in
rapporto con altri gruppi. Di questo padre antico ci hanno conservato la
imponente figura non tanto gli scrittori di cose giuridiche, che lo
irrigidiscono di troppo perchè lo riguardano sotto l'aspetto esclusivamente
giuridico; ma i filosofi latini, allorchè ci dipingono, ad esempio, APPIO
Claudio, capo di una grande famiglia, custode geloso dell'antico costume, il
quale continua, ancorchè vecchio e CIECO, ad esercitare, venerato e temuto ad
un tempo, la propria autorità sui figli, sui servi, e sopra un numero
grandissimo di client. Del resto anche il diritto lascia di quando in quando
travedere quest'aureola patriarcale, che circonda il capo di famiglia, come lo
dimostrano le seguenti parole attribuite ad Ascanio. “Moris fuit, unumquemque
domesticam rationem sibi totius vitae suae per dies singulos scribere, quod
appareret quid quisque de reditibus suis, quid de arte, de foenore lucrove sepo
suisset, et quo die, et quid idem sumptus damnive fecisset.” Tuttavia anche
questa descrizione tende già a dare all'autorità del padre un carattere
essenzialmente giuridico. Mentre invece, riportandoci al periodo gentilizio,
questa figura primitiva presentasi anche [Cic., Cato maior -- È poi sopratutto
nei filosofi latini, e specialmente nei comici, come Plauto, che si può
facilmente scorgere la differenza fra la patria podestà, quale era
giuridicamente concepita é quale invece esisteva nel fatto. È da vedersi in
proposito Henriot, Moeurs juridiques et judiciaires de l'ancienne Rome. Bruns,
Fontes juris romani antiqui. Edit. V, Friburgi] più imponente col suo carattere
patriarcale e religioso ad un tempo; e quindi si può comprendere come
l'acceptum, l'expensum, lo sponsum, lo stipulatum, l'actum, il iussum del capo
di famiglia si cambiano in altrettanti atti solenni, che diventarono poi il
substratum di altrettante configurazioni giuridiche in un periodo posteriore. Un
secondo carattere poi sta in questo, che il diritto presentasi fra questi capi
di famiglia appartenenti a genti e a tribù diverse, come il solo mezzo per
stabilire e mantenere la pace fra i medesimi. Se infatti il suo impero non
fosse riconosciuto non ha altro espediente, che quello di ricorrere alla manuum
consertio, la quale, allargandosi dalla famiglia alle genti, e da queste alle
tribu, mantenne le medesime in uno stato di guerra permanente, i cui rancori si
verrebbero poi perpetuando di generazione in generazione. Accenno qui ad un
concetto, che sarà svolto più largamente altrove. Diregola si suol cercare nel
diritto quiritario il complesso di tutti gli atti e dei negozi giu ridici, che
potevano essere richiesti dalle condizioni sociali del popolo, fra cui esso
vige. Esso invece non comprese dapprima tutti i rapporti giuridici, che già esi
stevano nel costume e nella consuetudine; ma comincia dal comprendere quelli,
che erano resi più urgenti dalle esigenze della vita civile e politica. E in
questo modo, che esso comincia dall'essere un ius quiritium, che si aggira su
pochissimi concetti fondamentali, i quali si adattano a tutte le possibili
evenienze; poi trasformasi nel “ius proprium civium romanorum”; quindi
assorbisce anche nella propria cerchia le istituzioni del ius gentium; e da
ultimo giunge ad informarsi persino al ius naturale; concetti questi che, se
non avevano ancora una configurazione scientifica, viveno però già nella
coscienza generale del popolo romano, fin dal proprio esordire nella storia.
Ciò mi conferma in una antica convinzione, che ho già avuto occasione di
esporre nell'opera: La vita del diritto nei suoi rapporti colla vita sociale, la
quale consiste in ritenere, che anche nelle epoche primitive il diritto non
confondesi colla forza; ma compare invece qual mezzo per reprimere la forza e
la violenza. So che questa opinione ha ad essere combattuta da egregi che si
occuparono dell'argomento, e fra gli altri da Zocco-Rosa, Preistoria del
diritto. Milano, e da Puglia, L'evoluzione storica e scientifica del diritto e
della procedura penale, nota; ma i fatti mi inducono a persistere nella
medesima. Non è già che io nego, che siavi stato un periodo, in cui abbia
predominata la forza e la privata violenza: ma quando presentasi il diritto,
esso non solo non confondesi colla forza, ma si propone senz'altro di
reprimerla, obbligandola a seguire certi processi, che ne impediscono l’esagerazioni
e gl’eccessi. In questo senso aveva ragione il filosofo di scrivere – “Nam
genus humanum. Ex inimicitiis languebat; quo magis ipsum Sponte sua cecidit sub
leges arctaque iura.” Lucretius, De rerum natura. Cio è anche dimostrato dal
carattere del tutto particolare, che assumono le guerre in questo periodo, e
che si mantiene ancora per qualche tempo nella storia di Roma. Tali guerre
infatti il più spesso prendono le mosse da qualche controversia, di carattere
pressochè famigliare, che viene poi estendendosi mediante le aderenze e le
parentele, e riduconsi in sostanza a scambievoli scorrerie, che le varie tribù
e genti vengono facendo nei rispettivi loro territorii; scorrerie, che si
sospendono mediante le induciae nella cattiva stagione, e vengono poi ad essere
riprese nell' anno seguente. Ciò fa quasi credere, che queste genti primitive sono
in uno stato perpetuo di guerra; il che non può essere ammesso, perchè è
contraddetto dalle solennità stesse, che accompagnano così le dichiarazioni di
guerra, come la formazione delle tregue, delle alleanze e delle paci. Un ultimo
carattere infine, sta in ciò, che la formazione del diritto non si ha dapprima
nei rapporti interni dei singoli gruppi; ma piuttosto nei rapporti fra le
famiglie, fra le genti, fra le tribù, o almeno fra i loro capi, per guisa che i
primi vocaboli di significazione eminentemente giuridica contrappongono sempre
l'uomo all'uomo, ed indicano dei rapporti amichevoli od ostili, che vengono a
svolgersi fra i diversi capi di gruppo. Di qui la conseguenza in apparenza
strana, ma certamente fondata sui fatti, che la formazione di un diritto, che
governava i rapporti fra le varie genti, precede la formazione del diritto privato
propriamente detto: il che è dimostrato anche dalla considerazione, che nei
filosofi si discorre dei “iura gentium”, prima ancora che si discorra del ius
quiritium e del ius civium romanorum. Infatti, i iura gentiun, i foedera, le
sponsiones fra i capi delle varie genti sono già rapporti, che si sono svolti
anteriormente alla formazione della comunanza romana, mentre il ius quiritium
dapprima e il ius civile più tardi nacquero e si svolsero colla stessa Roma; il
che appare eziandio dal processo delle cose sociali ed umane, che ci è
descritto dai filosofi latini. Intanto e sopratutto sui mercati, ove compareno
i varii capi di famiglia, ed ove, oltre gli scambi, si puo anche trattare le
alleanze e le paci, che comincia la formazione del diritto; il quale,
esplicandosi fra capi di famiglia, che appartenano a genti diverse, e che non
erano ancora soggetti al medesimo diritto, dove necessariamente essere dapprima
piuttosto un “ius gentium”, che non un diritto, che potesse chiamarsi ius
civile. Questo anzi non potè formarsi altri menti, che col trasportare fra i
cittadini della medesima città quelle forme, che si sono prima elaborate nei
rapporti contrattuali fra i capi delle varie genti e famiglie. Si può quindi
affermare, che anche quel diritto pdi Roma, che appare nella storia con
caratteri di maggior rozzezza e violenza, non trova sempre la propria origine
nella forza, come molti sostengono; ma che in parte ha invece un'origine
essenzialmente *contrattuale*, come la città, in cui esso era chiamato a
ricevere il suo svolgimento. Il diritto, anziché doversi confondere colla
forza, compare invece, allorchè si comincia ad uscire da uno stato di violenza,
e se la forza continua ancora nei rapporti fra le varie tribù, gli è perchè
esse non riuscirono ancora a sottoporsi, mediante accordo, all'impero di un
medesimo diritto. E solamente più tardi, allorchè la città comincia ad essere
abbastanza forte e potente, per imporsi ai singoli gruppi, che l'autorità
civile potè penetrare eziandio nelle mura do [Non mi dissimulo l'arditezza di
una idea, che conduce in sostanza a dire, che si forma dapprima il ius gentium,
che non lo stesso ius civile, e che il ius quiritium e un diritto, formatosi
dapprima fra le genti e i loro capi, e poscia trapiantato fra i quiriti: ma
questo processo è per tal modo confermato dai fatti e ne appariranno man mano
prove così evidenti, che mi sembra impossibile il poterlo negare. Del resto la
ragione di esso trovasi in questo, che mentre la famiglia poo fare a meno del
diritto nei suoi rapporti interni; questo invece e indispensabile nei rapporti
fra le varie famiglie e fra le varie genti. Che anzi, dacchè sono nel dominio
delle induzioni, aggiungerò ancora, che ai iura gentium dovette precedere il
senso di quei iura naturalia, quae natura omnia animalia docuit; per guisa che
il diritto nel suo svolgimento di fatto sarebbe prima uscito dalle tendenze
spontanee dell'umana natura. Poi sarebbe stato elaborato nei rapporti fra le
varie genti. Solo più tardi e comparso nell'interno di Roma. Esso insomma nei
fatti seguì un processo del tutto opposto a quello che segue la scienza del
diritto in Roma; la quale comincia invece dalle cautele del *ius civile*. Poi
venne ad abbracciare anche l'equità del *ius gentium*. Più tardi soltanto
giunse ad innalzarsi all'umanità del *ius naturale*. Vi ha però questa
differenza, che i iura naturalia primitivi sono l'opera in consapevole degli
istinti dell'umana natura, e i primitivi iura gentium consistono in un
complesso di pratiche fra le varie genti, imposte dalle necessità di fatto;
mentre il ius gentium accolto dal praetor e il ius naturale dei giureconsulti
sono già nozioni astratte, a cui essi pervennero, mediante la riflessione ed il
ragionamento, e forse neppure da soli, quanto al ius naturale, ma col sussidio
della filosofia, atta a svolgere questi concetti speculativi ed astratti. Mi
rimetto, quanto allo svolgimento del concetto di ius gentium e di ius naturale,
a ciò che ho scritto nella Vita del diritto nei suoi rapporti colla vita
sociale, lasciando a chi legge di notare le modificazioni, che qui sonovi
arrecate.] mestiche, e sostituirsi a poco a poco alle norme di carattere
esclusivamente morale o religioso, imponendo un diritto, a cui tutti devono
inchinarsi, perchè è l'espressione della volontà collettiva e comune. I
caratteri del diritto che ho fin qui cercato di ricavare dall'esame dei fatti,
appariscono eziandio dai vocaboli più antichi, che presso le genti latine
abbiano avuta una portata veramente giuridica, quali sono quelli di “connubium”,
di “commercium” e di “actio”, e dalla significazione, che questi vocaboli hanno
anteriormente alla formazione stessa di Roma. Infatti non può esservi dubbio,
che questi tre concetti già avevano un contenuto preciso, allorchè comparve la
comunanza romana. Ma essi non indicano ancora un complesso di diritti, che
appartenga a questa od a quella persona, ma piuttosto dei rapporti, di
carattere pressochè *contrattuale*, che esistono fra le famiglie, le genti e le
tribù e i capi rispettivi delle medesime. L’ “action”, nel suo significato
giuridico, ha un'origine pressochè contrattuale, come lo dimostra il fatto, che
essa suppone il rimettersi di due persone ad un'autorità accettata da entrambi,
ed una reciproca scommessa fra i contendenti, con cui entrambi affermano di
essere nel buon diritto. E solo più tardi, che questi vocaboli, i quali
significavano primitivamente dei rapporti, che intercedevano fra le varie genti
e i loro capi, trapiantati fra i cittadini vennero a costituire altrettanti
capi saldi, da cui si staccarono le forme essenziali, sotto cui ebbe poi a
svolgersi il diritto quiritario. È poi degno di nota, come questi vocaboli, che
primi acquistarono una significazione giuridica, abbiano questo di particolare,
che contrappongono l'uomo all'uomo, indicando per tal modo come il diritto sia
veramente nato colla società umana, e sia chiamato ad essere il “vinculum
societatis humanae”. Nel “connubium” infatti abbiamo una persona, che esce da
una famiglia per entrare in un'altra. Nel “commercium” abbiamo una persona,
che, obligando se stessa od alienando la sua proprietà, addiviene a quelle
molteplici relazioni di affari e di negozii giuridici, di cui si intesse la
vita sociale sotto l'aspetto economico. Nell' “actio”, infine, abbiamo
parimente una persona che, ritenendosi lesa in questo o in quel diritto da
un'altra persona, lo afferma e lo fa valere di fronte alla medesima,
appigliandosi a quei mezzi, che possono conciliarsi colle esigenze della vita
sociale. Per tal modo il ius pone l'uomo di fronte all'altro uomo, e si può
affermare con ragione che “hominum causa constitutum est.” Intanto ciascuno di
questi concetti è eminentemente sintetico e comprensivo per modo che ognuno può
servire come punto di partenza a tutto un complesso di diritti; il che apparirà
ancora, allorchè Gaio, riassumendo l'elaborazione scientifica di molti secoli,
finisce per con chiudere: “omne ius vel ad personas, vel ad res, vel ad
actiones pertinet.” Non ignoro come questa classificazione sia stata di recente
combattuta sopra tutto in Germania, e fra gli altri. dallo stesso SAVIGNY, il
grande iniziatore del movimento contemporaneo negli studii storici intorno al
diritto, il quale giunse fino a sostenere, che la distinzione di Gaio non ha nè
valore storico, nè valore intrinseco. Traité de droit Romain. Trad. Guexoux,
Paris. Parmi tuttavia, che chi consideri la correlazione perfetta, che vi ha
fra la classificazione teorica di Gaio, e i concetti da cui il diritto
quiritario prende le mosse, e tenga conto di quella dialettica potente, che
stringe insieme le varie parti della giurisprudenza romana, malgrado il tempo per
cui durò l'elaborazione di essa, possa difficilmente ammettere, che qui
trattisi, come il SAVIGNY dice dell'opinione individuale di un giureconsulto, e
che come tale sia priva di qualsiasi valore storico ed intrinseco. Essa invece
ha valore storico ed intrinseco ad un tempo, perchè compenetra tutta la
giurisprudenza romana, in quanto che e facile il dimostrare a suo tempo, che
nel diritto civile romano tutta la parte relativa ai diritti di famiglia e
quindi alle persone non e che uno svolgimento del concetto primitivo del “connubium.”
Tutta quella relativa alle cose non fa che una deduzione dal concetto di “commercium.”
Infine, quella che si riferisce alle azioni, non fu che il frutto di
un'elaborazione lenta e non mai interrotta del concetto primitivo di “actio”.
Cfr. al riguardo Carle, “De exceptionibus in iure romano” (Torino). L'autore che
pose meglio in evidenza la correlazione fra “connubium”, “commercium” ed “actio”,
e LANGE, Histoire intérieure de Rome. Che anzi i giureconsulti proseguirono lo
svolgimento di queste forme essenziali del diritto, senza mai confondere lo
svolgimento dialettico dell'una con quello dell'altra; per modo che certe
singolarità del diritto romano solo si puo spiegare, in quanto che la dialettica
giuridica non consente di confondere due ordini diversi di idee. Di più se
fosse qui lecito di porre innanzi una considerazione, che puo parere TROPPO
filosofica, non dubito di affermare, che nel concetto romano la distinzione
seguita da Gaio esprime tre atteggiamenti diversi del diritto compreso in tutta
la sua larghezza, il quale appartiene alla persona, si spiega sulle cose, e
infine, violato, affermasi mediante l'azione. È da questa concezione sintetica
e potente del diritto in Roma, che procede la primitiva indistinzione fra il
diritto *personale*, il diritto reale, e l'azione, che serve a difenderli. Fra
questi concetti presentasi anzitutto quello di “connubium”, che nella sua
significazione primitiva indica la facoltà, che appartiene ad individui, i
quali appartengono a genti diverse, di imparentarsi fra di loro, mediante
quelle nozze, che dalle genti sono riconosciute come giuste e legittime. Esso
ha per effetto di mescolare le stirpi, e quindi si comprende, che nell'alto
concetto, che hanno le genti patrizie dei proprii antenati e del SANGUE, che
corre nelle loro vene, questo dove essere un rapporto, in cui tendevano
piuttosto a restringersi, che non ad estendersi. Solo le genti, che
appartenevano al medesimo “nomen” -- e questo il latino, il sabino o l'etrusco
– hanno fra di loro comunanza di connubii, il che è anche provato dalla
tradizione, secondo cui, se i Ramnenses vuoleno il connubium coi Titienses,
doveno ricorrere alla violenza ed alla forza; il che pero non tolse, che il MESCOLARSI
DEL SANGUE delle due tribù sia stata la causa del loro successivo affratellarsi
per formare una medesima Roma. Furono infatti le DONNE di origine SABINE che
secondo una tradizione, la quale è certo ben trovata -- si interposero fra i
mariti ed i fratelli e riuscirono così ad affratellarli, dando perfino il loro
nome alle curie, in cui essa è ripartita. Cosi pure si comprende, che anche fra
le genti, che appartenevano allo stesso “nomen” e facevano anche parte della STESSA
tribù, il connubium non potesse esistere fra i due elementi, di cui [È questa
la significazione primitiva, che si attribuisce al vocabolo, allorchè parlasi
di “connubium” fra le varie genti, o fra il patriziato e la plebe. E solo nel
diritto quiritario, che il “ius connubië” passa a significare il diritto di
addivenire alle iustae nuptiae, e venne così a dare origine a tutti quei
rapporti giuridici, che si riferiscono alla famiglia. È da esso infatti, che
deriva la manus, che fonda la famiglia; la patria potestas, che spiegasi,
allorchè nascono dei figli; e infine la stessa successione legittima, la quale
si avvera, allorchè, morendo il capo di famiglia, si discioglie quel gruppo, e
si riparte quel patrimonio, che in lui trovavansi unificati. Questa tradizione
è riferita da Livio e da Dionisio: ma non sembra essere confermata dai fatti,
perchè alcuni dei nomi delle curie primitive, che giunsero fino a noi, sembrano
essere tolti più dai luoghi che dalle persone. V. LANGE, Hist. intér. de Rome. Ad
ogni modo questa è una tradizione, che è certo ben trovata, in quanto che
dimostra l'importanza, che dove avere un avvenimento che la rompe col passato,
e rende possibile il connubium fra persone che non appartenevano al medesimo
nomen, preso nel senso di stirpe e di schiatta. E questa prima MESCOLANZA DEL
SANGUE latino col sabino, che rese possibile la potente attrazione esercitata
da Roma su tutte le stirpi italiche, il che è riconosciuto da CICERONE, De Rep.]
l'uno in origine rappresenta la classe dei vincitori e l'altro quella dei
vinti. Non poteva quindi esservi connubio, nè fra i liberi ed i servi, nè nè
fra i patroni ed i clienti, e neppure fra i patrizii ed i plebei. Queste varie
gradazioni costituivano pressochè due caste diverse, il cui sangue non dove
confondersi, come lo dimostrano le lunghe lotte, che si dovettero sostenere
anche più tardi per accomunare i matrimonii fra il patriziato e la plebe. Intanto
pero questo connubium, frammezzo a genti, che costitui vano per così dire
altrettante piccole potenze, riducesi in realtà a staccare una donna da un
gruppo, di cui prima fa parte, per trasportarla in un altro; il che importa eziandio
un cambiamento nel culto gentilizio, perchè la donna abbandona il culto dei suo
padre per diventare partecipe di quello del marito. Di qui la necessità per le
giuste nozze di una cerimonia religiosa, come quella della “confarreation”, a
cui assisteno i capi di famiglia della gente e delle tribù, a cui appartene lo
sposo e la moglie, e che importa la comunione delle cose divine ed umane. Di
qui la conseguenza eziandio, che quanto era dalla moglie recato con sè dovesse
diventare [A chi chiedesse col linguaggio ora adottato, se le genti italiche
praticassero l'endogamia o l'exogamia (V. SPENCER, Principes de sociologie), si
dove rispondere, che esse sotto un certo aspetto erano exogame, perchè
ritenevano nefarie le nozze fra persone strette da un certo vincolo di
parentela, fra quelle persone cioè, fra cui esiste, secondo l'antico linguaggio,
il “ius osculi”, ossia fino al sesto grado; mentre poi erano endogame nel
senso, che il Patrizio, per scegliere la propria compagna, non puo uscire dalle
genti che appartenevano allo stesso nomen. Pare però, che questa consuetndine
tradizionale siasi modificata dagli stessi romani, i quali, misti fin dalla
origine, furono anche in seguito i più facili a mescolare il proprio sangue con
altre stirpi. Cfr. PANTALEONI, Storia civile e costituzionale di Roma. Torino. Parmi
allo stato attuale degli studii incontrastabile l'opinione, che considera la “confarreatio”
come esclusivamente propria delle genti patrizie. Tra gli autori seguono tale opinione
EsMein (“La manus, la paternité et le divorce” – “Mélanges d'histoire de droit,
Paris); Glasson (“Le mariage civil et le divorce, Paris), e pare anche il
nostro Brininel suo bel lavoro sul “Matrimonio e divorzio nel diritto romano” (Bologna).
Del resto varii indizii di questa origine patrizia della “confarreatio” si
hanno nel carattere religioso della cerimonia, nei X testimonii che ricordano
le X curie delle tribù, e in ciò che le leggi regie da Dionisio attribuite a
Romolo ed a Numa, non ricordano che le nozze confarreate. V. Bruns, Fontes. Per
ciò che si riferisce alla famiglia romana è fondamentale l'opera dello
SCHUPFER, La famiglia nel diritto romano. Padova] proprietà del marito, o di
colui, sotto la cui potestà trovavasi ancora il marito; e che la medesima, per
entrare nei quadri del gruppo, a cui venne ad aggregarsi, cadesse sotto la
manus del capo di famiglia, ed acquistasse la posizione migliore, che puo esservi
nella medesima, che era quella di figlia – “filiae loco”. Viene in seguito il “commercium”,
il quale in questo periodo non significa ancora quel complesso di diritti, che
scaturiscono dal dominio, ma ha il suo vero e proprio significato di rapporti
commerciali, che possono intervenire fra i capi di famiglia, appartenenti a
genti diverse. Qui il rapporto è assai più superficiale, ed è per sua natura
tale, che può essere di reciproco vantaggio per i contraenti. Il “commercium”
pertanto prende un più largo sviluppo; ed esiste non solo fra il patriziato e
la plebe, fra cui era reso indispensabile dalla coesistenza sul medesimo suolo,
ma anche fra coloro, che appartengono a stirpi diverse. Che anzi fra queste
sonvi anche le stirpi, che, per avere attitudine maggiore ai commerci, fannosi
in certo modo intermediarie dei medesimi fra le varie genti e tribù; il quale
ufficio fra le genti italiche sembra essersi compiuto sopratutto per opera dell'elemento
etrusco. Sono questi commerci, che vengono ravvicinando le varie genti, e
conducono gradatamente a cambiare certi siti neutrali in luoghi di riunione ad
epoche de terminate e fisse – “conciliabula”, “for a” --. È poi un grande
vantaggio [Anche qui la significazione primitiva del vocabolo “commercium”
appare da ciò, che Roma fin dagli inizii trovasi circondata da popolazioni, con
cui pratica il “commercium”. È solo per opera del diritto quiritario, che il
concetto di commercium, applicato fra i cittadinidi una medesima città, dà
origine al “ius commercii,” il quale poi, sviscerato negli elementi, che
entrano a costituirlo, viene a scindersi; nel “ius emendi ac vendendi”, che
operasi colla “mancipatio”; nel “nexum”, da cui deriva la teoria delle
obbligazioni; e infine nella “testamenti factio”, che comprende la facoltà di
fare e di ricevere per testamento, e quella perfino di essere testimonio nel
medesimo. Cfr. Lange, Histoire intérieure de Rome. Per tal modo, nello
svolgimento dialettico del diritto quiritario la successione legittima e la
testamentaria vengono a spiegarsi in un diverso ordine di idee in quanto che la
prima dipende dal connubium, e l'altra deriva dal commercium. Questa forse è la
vera ragione della massima. “Ius nostrum non patitur eumdem in paganis testato
et intestato decessisse, earumque rerum naturaliter inter se pugna est.” Pomp.,
I, Dig. È proprio infatti dei giureconsulti, che essi una volta, che hanno
separato due ordini di idee, non li confondano più insieme. Secondo il SUMNER
Maine, qualche cosa di analogo sarebbe anche accaduto fra 128 per una comunanza
incipiente, se la medesima sia posta in tal sito da richiamare alle proprie
fiere ed ai proprii mercati le popolazioni vicine; vantaggio, che e una delle
cause, per cui Roma, diventata ben presto un emporio per il commercio delle
popolazioni latine, potè esercitare sovra di esse un'attrazione ed
assimilazione potente] le antiche comunanze di villaggio dell'Oriente; fra le
quali esistevano degli spazii di terreno neutrali, che serveno per trattare le
paci e per il mercato (Village Communities). Secondo Maine, si ha un indizio
dell’associazione del commercio e della neutralità negli attributi di MERC-V-RIO,
dio comune alle stirpi di origine aria, che da una parte sarebbe il dio dei
termini, il primo dei messaggeri ed ambasciatori, e per ultimo anche il patrono
del commercio, dei confini, e un poco anche dei furti e dei ladronecci. Intanto
da questa circostanza in apparenza di poco rilievo, per cui nel medesimo sito
si fanno gli scambii e si trattavano le alleanze e le paci fra le varie genti,
deriva questa importantissima conseguenza, che come in quest'epoca non si
distingueva il diritto privato dal pubblico, così non distinguesi il diritto
commerciale, da quel diritto, che ora si chiama internazionale. L'uno e l'altro
erano compresi nel ius gentium, il che spiega come questo vocabolo talvolta
indichi soltanto dei rapporti fra cittadini e stranieri, e talvolta comprenda
anche i rapporti di carattere pubblico fra varii popoli. Non puo però esservi
dubbio, che il ius gentium, allorchè viene a penetrare nel diritto romano, per
opera del “praetor”, appare circoscritto ai rapporti privati fra cittadini e
stranieri, ed ha quindi un carattere essenzialmente commerciale. Ciò è molto
bene dimostrato da Fusinato nel suo accurato lavoro “Dei Feziali e del diritto
feziale”, Accademia dei Lincei. Memorie della Classe di scienze mor. stor.
filol.; del quale credo di poter dire, senza offendere la modestia di un
collega ed amico, che ha cominciato ad introdurre qualche concetto direttivo in
una materia, che certo ne ha grande bisogno. È poi noto, che la grande autorità
sull'argomento è Voigt, Das ius naturale, bonum et equum, gentium, etc. Leipzig,
dei quali il 2° si occupa pressochè esclusivamente del ius gentium. Fra il modo
di vedere di questi autori e quello qui esposto corre però questa differenza,
che essi ritenne il concetto ed anche la denominazione del ius gentium, come
opera riflessa dei giureconsulti; mentre per me il ius gentium esiste nel fatto
e nella parola anche anteriormente e solo più tardi riuscì a trovar posto anche
nel diritto civile di Roma. Sembra tuttavia che prima fossero adoperate le
espressioni di iura gentium, e di iura naturalia, mentre dopo i vocaboli
adottati sono quelli di ius gentium e di ius naturale, i quali indicano
l'unificazione, che vi si è operata. MOMMSEN, Histoire Romaine, da tale
importanza alla posizione eminentemente commerciale di Roma, da ritenere la
popolazione primitiva di essa comededita al commercio e Roma come una città
commerciale. PADELLETTI ha combattuta tale opinione (Storia del diritto romano)
e parmi in verità che il fatto, per cui Roma divenne l'emporio delle genti del
Lazio, possa essere spiegato senza dire, che essa fosse una città sopratutto
commerciale; poichè anche per una città agricola e militare ad un tempo, come
era Roma nei propri inizii, puo essere grandemente utile di essere in tal sito,
da richiamare il commercio [E sui mercati, dove convenivano persone
appartenenti a comunanze diverse, che dovettero formarsi quelle convenzioni più
semplici, fondate unicamente sul consenso dei contraenti, e fra le altre anche
la compra e vendita, che alcuni vorrebbero far nascere solo, quando Roma era
già divenuta una grande città. Solo deve avvertirsi, che questa compra e
vendita primitiva, avverandosi talvolta fra capi di famiglia, che appartenevano
a comunanze diverse, fra cui non esiste forse comunione di diritto, non dove
naturalmente ritenersi perfetta, se non era accompagnata dalla tradizione della
cosa e dal pagamento del prezzo, come ha a stabilire anche più tardi la
legislazione decemvirale. E qui parimenti, che dove nascere e svolgersi quella
sponsio o stipulatio, la quale, allorchè poi ottenne di essere riconosciuta dal
diritto quiritario, venne ad essere il mezzo più semplice e più acconcio per
dar forma giuridica ad ogni maniera di convenzioni. Sono eziandio queste fiere,
che die delle popolazioni latine. Può darsi anzi, che anche questa posizione
eminentemente commerciale l'ha resa meno esclusiva nell'accogliere nuovi
elementi. Del resto anche i romani senteno l'eccellenza della posizione della
loro città, e ce ne parla CICERONE, De Rep. Non può quindi, a parer mio, essere
giustificata l'opinione di coloro i quali ritengono, che solo più tardi si
fosse introdotta in Roma l’emptio venditio, e che la sponsio e la stipulatio,
che certo già esisteno nei rapporti fra le varie genti, sonno state invece
importate di Grecia, per ciò che si riferisce alle convenzioni private.
L'opinione erronea proviene dal credere, che il diritto quiritario comprende
dapprima tutto il diritto in uso presso i romani; mentre invece esso fu una
codificazione e un adattamento progressivo del diritto già esistente nelle
consuetudini. Esso quindi comincia dal comprendere solo quella parte di esso,
che era confermata da una “lex publica”, come lo dimostrano le antiche
espressioni di “agere per aes et libram”, di “facere testamentum, nexum,
mancipium secundum legem publicam”. Quindi, accanto al ius quiritium, visse
sempre in Roma un ius gentium, che, senza aver ricevate le forme quiritarie, e
però sempre adoperato e forse anche applicato nelle controversie dai
recuperatores, anche anteriormente all'istituzione del praetor peregrinus. Ciò
è provato dai filosofi latini e sopratutto da Plauto, che ne danno come usuali
e frequenti certe forme di negozii e di atti, che non risultano ancor sempre
penetrati nel diritto quiritario. Ciò poi è indubitabile per la sponsio o
stipulatio, atto romano per eccellenza, dai romani applicato nei trattati
pubblici e nelle convenzioni private. Può darsi quindi, che le genti italiche
l'avessero comune colle elleniche, e che la espressione spondeo fosse anche
comune ai due popoli. Ma i romani non ebbero certo bisogno di apprenderlo d’altri,
nè aspettarono ad adoperarlo solo piu tarde verso come sostengono fra gli altri
il MurueAD, Histor. Introd. e Leist, Graeco- Italische Rechts geschichte. Solo
può ammettersi, che, dopo aver vissuto lungamente nell'uso e davanti ai
recuperatores, la sponsio o stipulatio penetra anche nello stretto diritto
civile ed e adottata come forma propria del medesimo] dero più tardi occasione
al giureconsulto Manilio di concretare in poche parole delle formole acconcie
per concepire quelle vendite, che sono più frequenti per una popolazione
agreste; delle quali formole alcune pervennero a noi e potrebbero trovare
riscontro in formole, ancora oggi usate nelle stesse occasioni, salvo che
queste non hanno più la sobrietà e precisione antica. È qui infine, che dove
prepararsi la formazione di un ius gentium, che ha dapprima un carattere
commerciale, come il commercium da cui esso deriva, e che, accanto al diritto
proprio di ogni singola gente o tribù, era indispensabile per le transazioni
commerciali fra i capi di famiglia, appartenenti a genti ed a tribù diverse.
Sia pure, che solo più tardi questo modesto ius gentium, formatosi sulle fiere
e sui mercati, richiami l'attenzione del pretore, e gli dia animo per scostarsi
dalle formalità ormai divenute soverchie del ius proprium civium romanorum: cio
però non toglie, che le origini di quelle lente formazioni, che si verificano
nella coscienza generale di un popolo, si debbano talvolta anche cercare in
un'epoca di gran lunga anteriore, come accade delle piccole sorgenti, che solo
appariscono degne di osservazione e di ricerca, quando si scorge il corso
maestoso del fiume, che ebbe a derivarsi da esse. Da ultimo non può esservi
dubbio che, già nel periodo gentilizio, dovette essersi formato il concetto
dell' “actio”, ma questa non significa un mezzo accordato dalla legge o dal
pretore, per far valere in giudizio un proprio diritto, ma e, per dir cosi, il
diritto stesso, che mettevasi in azione, estrinsecandosi in quel complesso di
atti, che erano indispensabili per ottenere il proprio riconoscimento. Il poco che
pervenne a noi delle formole Maniliane, trovasi riportato dall'HuSCHKE, Iurispr.
anteiust. quae supersunt, ed è una prova dell'attitudine dei veteres
iurisconsulti a sceverare da un fatto tutto ciò, che in esso eravi di
giuridico, modellandolo in una formola tipica, che puo poi servire per tutti i
casi dello stesso genere. Accostasi a questo concetto dell' “actio”, nella sua
significazione primitiva, l'ORTOLAN, Histoire de la legislation romaine, Paris,
parla dell'azione nel periodo decemvirale. “Action est une dénomination Générale.
C’est une forme de procéder, une procédure considérée] È a questo punto, che si
può trovare la ragione, per cui il diritto di tutti i popoli e quindi anche il
romano si è sviluppato dapprima sotto forma di azione e di procedura, che non come
legge, che determini i diritti rispettivi dei cittadini. Finché il capo di
famiglia è esso il sovrano nella propria casa, egli NON HA BISOGNO CHE LA LEGGE
VENGA A RICORDARGLI QUALI SIANO I SUOI DIRITTI. Questo diritto egli porta con
sè e ha profondamente impresso nella sua coscienza. Quindi, se il medesimo diritto
venne ad essere violato, egli non può aspettare che lo Stato, che quasi ancora
non esiste, si metta in moto per ottenere la riparazione dal torto, che ha ad
essergli arrecato. Come quindi è il capo di famiglia che vendica l'adulterio, o
che corre sui passi del ladro che lo ha derubato, e ne perquisisce la casa,
mediante certi riti, che sono determinati dal costume e a cuiniuno osa
ribellarsi, perchè sono sotto la protezione del fas: così è pur egli che,
quando si vede occupato un fondo, od usurpato uno schiavo, o sottratto un
figlio, si mette in movimento ed in azione e afferma in presenza ed a scienza
della intiera comunanza, che è suo quel fondo, quello schiavo, quel figlio.
Quindi è, che l'azione viene ad essere naturalmente la prima manifestazione del
diritto. Prima il diritto esiste allo stato latente, ed ora si produce, si
afferma, perchè incontro una persona, che ebbe a violarlo. Quest'azione
tuttavia, non è ancora la “legis actio”; perchè in compierla l'uomo offeso non
ispirasi ad una *legge*, che forse non esiste ancora, ma ispirasi al senso
intimo e profondo del proprio diritto. Tuttavia è in questo momento sopratutto,
sotto la sferza dell'offesa e sotto l'impeto dell'indignazione, che il capo di
famiglia può anche trascendere nel far valere il proprio diritto, e ricorrere
anche alla violenza ed alla vendetta. Quindi è, che se per avventura verrà a
formarsi nel seno della comunanza qualche forma di procedura, la quale, mentre
da una parte rispetta la fiera indipendenza dell'uomo, consapevole del proprio
diritto, dall'altra contenga il prorompere violento di colui, che ha ad essere
dans son ensemble, dans la série des actes et des paroles, qui doivent la
constituer.” Qui però l'autore parla già della “legis actio”. Ma se noi andiamo
più oltre nei tempi, allorchè essa non è ancora “legis actio”, ma semplicemente
“actio”, questa non è ancora un modo di procedere, ma è soltanto un modo di *agire*,
ed è anzi il diritto stesso in azione. Cfr. Carle, La vita del diritto. È poi
notabile, come per i latini il vocabolo “agere” indichi un'azione continuata,
che può scindersi in parti diverse; mentre “facere” si adopera di preferenza
invece per indicare un'azione, la quale compiesi, per così dire, in un unico
contesto.] offeso nel proprio diritto, l'occasione non dove certamente essere
trascurata. E quindi prima il mos, che comincia coll'additare la via
consuetudinaria, a cui debbe appigliarsi colui, che vuol far valere il proprio
diritto. Poi e il fas, che intervenne anch'esso e dichiara empio chi non segue
quel determinato rito. Ed infine sarà anche il ius, che venne notando in certo
modo i varii stadii, per cui passa quella procedura, e obbliga i contendenti a
passare, almeno per forma – “dicis gratia” -- , per ciascuno di questi stadii. E
in tal modo, che all'actio violenta, rozza, avida, appassionata dell'individuo
sottenne la legis actio, consacrata dalla legge, compassata e lenta, quasi per
attutire le passioni irrompenti dei contendenti; ma che intanto ricorda ancora
gli stadii dell'anteriore violenza, quasi per ricordare che a quella dovrebbe
farsi ritorno, quando la legge non e rispettata. Non è quindi da approvarsi, a
mio avviso, l'opinione di coloro, i quali ritengono che il prevalere delle
norme procedurali nel diritto, e quindi anche nel romano, sia prevenuto da ciò,
che sarebbesi prima badato alla forma, che alla sostanza. La ragione di questo
fatto è molto più profonda e deve essere cercata nelle origini stesse della
convivenza civile e politica. La causa del fatto sta in ciò, che l'opera della
legge negl’inizii e sopratutto necessaria non tanto per assicurare il diritto,
quanto per reprimere le reazioni violente, a cui abbandonavasi colui, il cui
diritto e violato. In questa parte diritto privato e diritto penale segueno
analoghe vicende. Al modo stesso, che la legge penale non mira tanto a punire i
misfatti, quanto piuttosto a porre dei confini alla vendetta, e rende cosi
obligatoria quella composizione a danaro, che dipende dall'accordo delle parti:
cosi anche le norme procedurali comparvero le prime, non tanto perchè i popoli
comprendeno più la forma che la sostanza; ma perchè il primo e più urgente
bisogno di una società, in via di formazione, e quello di impedire fra i
consocii la manuum consertio, ossia l'esercizio violento delle proprie ragioni.
Per lo svolgimento parallelo della vendetta e della pignorazione privata, è da
vedersi: Del GIUDICE, “La vendetta nel diritto longobardo” (Milano). Sembra poi
attribuire la precedenza delle norme di procedura, presso i popoli alla
prevalenza, che presso di essi ha la forma sulla sostanza, lo stesso Sumner
Maine, The early history of institutions, ove, discorrendo della forma primitiva
dei rimedii legali, scrive che in uno stadio delle cose romane i [Intanto non
vi ha forse nel vocabolario giuridico parola, che presenti al giureconsulto
filosofo e storico una più lunga storia di cose sociali ed umane, dei vocaboli
di “agere” e di “actio”, e che lo fa rimontare più oltre nelle tenebre e nella
oscurità del passato. Nella loro significazione primitiva di « stimolare » e di
« spingere », questi due vocaboli sembrano ancor richiamare gl’antichi
abitatori del Lazio, che, pastori di greggi, prima di diventare reggitori di
popoli, spingevano al largo le proprie mandre e i proprii armenti. Memori e
quasi alteri della propria origine, non dubitarono di applicare il medesimo
vocabolo a significare l'attività del magistrato, che si spiega in rapporto col
popolo – “ius agendi cum populo” -- , ed anchequella di colui, che forte della
convinzione nel proprio diritto intraprende quella specie di conflitto e di
lotta, che dove essere necessaria per ottenere il riconoscimento delle proprie
ragioni. Questo è certo, che fra capi di famiglia dal carattere fiero ed
indipendente non dove esser così facile il conseguire che essi si
sottoponessero ad un'autorità per la decisione delle loro controversie, e non è
quindi meraviglia se l'avvenimento dove loro apparire così importante, che
ritennero opportuno di conservare la memoria dei diversi stadii, che hanno
dovuto attraversare per giungervi. Allorchè sorgeva una controversia fra capi
di famiglia, appartenenti alla medesima tribù, il modo più naturale di risolverla
dovette certamente essere quello di rimettersi ad uno o più arbitri ed
amichevoli compositori, che doveno essere concordati fra le parti, come lo
dimostra un antico costume, che gli filosofi latini attribuiscono ai proprii
maggiori. Era poi naturale, che queste persone, chiamate a risolvere la
controversia, dovessero essere scelte fra i padri ed anziani del villaggio; del
che rimasero le traccie anche in Roma, ove i iudices furono per secoli tratti
dall'ordine dei padri diritti ed I doveri sono piuttosto un'aggiunta della
procedura, che non la procedura una mera appendice aidiritti ed ai doveri. BRÉAL, Dict. étym. latin., v° Agere. Cic.,
Pro Cluentio. “Neminem voluerunt maiores nostri, non modo de existimatione
cuiusquam, sed ne pecuniaria quidem de re minima esse iudicem, nisi qui inter
adversarios convenisset.” Del resto, anche secondo la legislazione decemvirale,
sembra che alla discussione della causa precedesse un tentativo di
componimenti, come lo dimostra il fram., Rem, ubi pacant, orato, tavola II,
legge 14, secondo la ricostruzione del Voigt, Die XII Tafeln, o senatori, e
solo dopo una lunga lotta, che si avvero già sul finire della Repubblica fra il
partito deg’ottimati e quello popolare, poterono anche essere scelti fra gl’equites.
La cosa però venne a farsi più grave, allorchè i contendenti non si mettevano
d'accordo per un amichevole componimento. Non vi ha nulla di ripugnante, che
essi, compresi vivamente del proprio diritto, trovandosi sul fondo stesso o
davanti allo schiavo, oggetto della controversia, cominciassero dall'affermare
altamente il proprio diritto sul fondo o sullo schiavo. Che se niuno di essi
cede, lo studio della natura umana ci insegna anche ora, che non è punto
improbabile, che essi potessero addivenire a quella vis realis, a cui secondo
Gellio e poi sostituita la “vis festucaria”, e che si effettua cosi fra di essi
una vera e propria lotta, che prese il nome “dimanuum consertio”. È però
consentaneo eziandio al costume patriarcale che, quando due persone sono cosi
in lotta fra di loro, puo anche interporsi fra di esse una persona autorevole,
la quale goda la comune fiducia, e che loro imponga di separarsi colle parole,
che più tardi sonno pronunziate dal praetor nella procedura quiritaria – “mittite
ambo hominem”. Tace allora la lotta: i contendenti, fatti umili dall'autorità
stessa di chi intervenne fra di loro e dallo stato stesso di violenza, in cui
furono sorpresi, chiamano entrambi a testimoni il divino, che la ragione è
dalla parte loro, e per dare energia maggiore alla propria affermazione
aggiungono alla medesima una scommessa, la quale, per essere accompagnata
dall'affermazione giurata di rimettersi al giudizio della persona intervenuta
fra di essi, può prendere il nome di “sacramentum:. Si ha cosi una successione
di fatti, che conducono naturalmente la persona autorevole, che si è in [La
legge che trasporta dall'ordine dei senatori a quello degli equites la capacità
ad essere giudici fu la lex SEMPRONIA iudiciaria del 632 di Roma, proposta da
C. Gracco, la quale dove però dar luogo a gravi lotte ed agitazioni, che sono
fatte manifeste dalle leggi giudiziarie degli anni, che vengono dopo. È da
vedersi in proposito ORTOLAN, “Histoire de la législation Romaine”. Aulo Gellio,
Noct. attic. -- Questo sentimento veramente sociale ed umano del pudore, che
guadagna colui che si appiglia alla violenza, trovasi maravigliosamente
espresso da OVIDIO, Fastorum. “Et cum cive pudet conseruisse manus.” È però a
notarsi, che Ovidio limita quel senso di pudore alle violenze fra i cittadini.
Con quelli che non sono tali sarebbe tutt'altra cosa.] terposta, ad essere
giudice non tanto della ragione o del torto dei contendenti, quanto piuttosto
della scommessa intervenuta fra i me desimi; sebbene però venne ad essere naturale
conseguenza del suo giudizio, che debba ritenersi aver ragione chi vince la
scommessa e torto colui, che perde la medesima. Fin qui pertanto, non si ha che
un processo di cose sociali ed umane, di cui si potrebbero trovare le traccie
anche ai nostri giorni, e che dove certo essere frequente, allorchè le contese sono
sostenute dai capi di gruppo, che non conosceno altra autorità superiore, salvo
quella, che sono accettata di comune accordo. Pongasi ora, che questo processo
di cose si ripeta più e più volte frammezzo a genti, che, come le italiche,
siano use a modellare in formole ed in gesti solenni tutti gli atti tipici
della loro vita giuridica, e allora si puo facilmente comprendere, come siasi
venuta formando quel l’ “actio sacramento”, che costitui poi l'azione
fondamentale di tutto il diritto quiritario, e e dai quiriti conservata con
cura così gelosa, che, già abolite le altre azioni delle leggi, l' “actio
sacramento” continua ancora a celebrarsi davanti al tribunale quiritario per
eccellenza, che è il tribunale dei centumviri. Non è quindi il caso di ridurre
questa primitiva azione ad una pantomina incomprensibile, nè di cambiare il
popolo maestro al mondo nel diritto in un architetto di formalità e di
sottigliezze senza scopo; ma è il caso piuttosto di leggervi la storia delle
vicende, che ha a percorrere l'amministrazione della giustizia, riportandola in
quell'ambiente patriarcale, nel quale soltanto si può riuscire a ricostruirla
nelle sue primitive fattezze. Qui tuttavia non posso passare sotto silenzio
l'opinione messa innanzi da una grande autorità, quale è il Bekker, e che e poi
anche divisa da molti altri autori, secondo cui dovrebbero ritenersi più an [È
già da qualche tempo, che rivelasi nei filosofi la tendenza a dare una
spiegazione naturale della formazione dell'actio sacramento. Se ne possono
vedere degli accenni nel Maynz, Cours de droit Romain, Bruxelles; nel SUMNER
MAINE, Early history of institutions, nel MUIRIEAD, Historical Introduction,
nel BUONAMICI, Storia della procedura romana. Pisa. Non credo tuttavia che essa
sia stata studiata nell'ambiente stesso, in cui ha dovuto formarsi, nè che
siasi dimostrato che essa debba riguardarsi come una sopravvivenza di un'epoca
anteriore. È però noto, che Omero nell'Iliade descrive, sopra uno dei
compartimenti dello scudo di Achille, una procedura del tutto analoga a quella
dell'actio sacramento.] tiche della stessa “actio sacramento”, quelle altre
forme di azioni, che sono indicate col vocabolo di “manus iniectio” e di “pignoris
capio”, in quanto che le medesime ricorderebbero più direttamente l'uso della
forza per far valere il proprio diritto. Lasciando per ora in disparte la “pignoris
capio”, che ha solo una importanza secondaria, per i pochi casi in cui fu
ammessa, importa anzitutto notare, che il vocabolo di “manus iniectio” può
essere tolto in due significazioni diverse, anche secondo la legislazione
decemvirale. Havvi anzitutto la “manus iniectio”, a cui ricorre colui che, dopo
aver invitato inutilmente il debitore a seguirlo avanti al magistrato, gli pone
addosso la propria mano e lo trascina in ius, somministrandogli però quei mezzi
di trasporto, che possano esser necessari per lo stato di malattia, in cui egli
si trovi. In questo senso però non havvi ancora una vera “legis actio”, ma solo
un mezzo per ottenere la comparizione del convenuto davanti al magistrato.
Invece la “manus iniectio”, in quanto costituisce una “legis actio”, consiste
nel potere, che appartiene al creditore di porre la sua mano sopra il nexus,
l'aeris confessus, ed il iudicatus per trascinarlo nel suo carcere, e
costringerlo così al pagamento del proprio debito od a lavorare per lui finchè
sia soddisfatto. BEKKER, Die Actionen der römisches Privatrechts, Berlin. Del
resto un tale concetto è stato in parte enunziato anche dal JHERING, L'esprit
du droit romain, Trad. Maulenaere, Paris, salvo che egli dà poi alla “manus
iniectio”, come “legis action”, una significazione del tutto speciale. A questa
“manus iniectio” accennasi nella prima legge delle XII Tavole. “Si in ius
vocat, ito. Ni it, antestamino: igitur em capito. Si calvitur pedemve struit,
manum endo iacito.” -- Sonvi persino degli autori, i quali dubitano che la “manus
iniectio” puo essere considerata come una vera “legis actio”, in quanto che
essa non richiede l'intervento del magistrato e ha solo luogo quando trattasi
di esecuzione. E questo il motivo, che induce il JHERING a dare una significazione
speciale alla “manus iniectio”. Quanto alla letteratura sull'argomento e alle
discussioni, che di recente sorgeno intorno alla questione, se la “manus
iniectio” dove ritenersi come una “legis actio”, è da vedersi il MUIRHEAD,
Histor. Introd. Parmi tuttavia, che il dubbio non possa esistere, quando si
tenga conto della significazione larghissima, che ha il vocabolo di “legis actio”
nel diritto; nel quale esso indica in sostanza i diversi genera agendi in
conformità di una lex publica, per modo da comprendere la stessa in iure cessio,
allorchè serve per effettuare una adozione, una emancipazione, una
manomissione, od un trasferimento di proprietà.] Quanto alla manus iniectio
Voigt, Die XII Tafeln. Or bene la “manus iniectio”, cosi intesa, non può
certamente essere considerata, come di formazione anteriore all' “actio
sacramento”. Per verità mentre questa contiene la storia delle varie peripezie,
per cui passa lo stabilimento dell'umana giustizia, e quindi richiama ancora
un'epoca, in cui non eravi amministrazione di giustizia; la “manus iniectio”
invece, quale appare nelle XII Tavole, suppone già stabilita una
amministrazione della giustizia, in quanto che essa è un modo di procedere
all'esecuzione contro colui, che o siasi obbligato colla solennità del nexum, o
abbia confessato il proprio debito davanti al magistrato, o sia stato
condannato al pagamento. Nè serve il dire, che la “manus iniectio”, essendo un
mezzo per l’esercizio delle proprie ragioni, dove essere applicata anche in
altri casi; mentre la legislazione decemvirale la circoscrive ai casi da essa
determinati, nell'intento di impedirne gli abusi. A ciò infatti si può
facilmente rispondere, che se fra i capi di famiglia delle genti patrizie si
può comprendere una procedura solenne, come quella dell' “actio sacramento”, in
cui le due parti sono eguali fra di loro e finiscono per accordarsi
nell'accettazione di un giudice della loro scommessa, è invece affatto
ripugnante una procedura, come e quella della “manus iniectio”. Non è un'eguale
che può sottomettersi ad una procedura di questa specie, per quanto egli puo
essere profondamente convinto del proprio torto. Fra due eguali, che siano in
contesa, può comprendersi la “manuum consertio”, e in seguito l'accettazione di
un arbitro; ma non mai che uno obbedisca pecorilmente al cenno dell'altro, e si
lasci cosi stringere nei ferri e nelle catene del suo carcere. Con ciò tuttavia
non voglio dire, che la “manus iniectio” e direttamente introdotta dalla
legislazione decemvirale, e che non esiste anteriormente alla medesima. Ritengo
anzi, che essa dove già esistere da lungo tempo: ma intanto a questo proposito
mi fo lecito di avventurare la congettura, che la “manus iniectio” dove essere
una speciale forma di procedura, che non si adopera già nei rapporti fra i capi
di genti patrizie, ma bensì unicamente nei rapporti, che intercedeno fra il
creditore patrizio ed il debitore plebeo. Si comprende infatti, come un'aristocrazia
territoriale, come quella delle genti patrizie, puo anche adoperare modi simili
di procedura verso una classe, che nei primi tempi non aveva ancora dimenticato
l'origine servile. Quindi è, che la “manus iniectio” deve essere considerata
come una delle istituzioni, che non appartiene al diritto, che dovette formarsi
nei rapporti fra i capi delle genti patrizie, ma bensi a quello, che dove
formarsi nei rapporti fra la classe dominante e la classe inferiore: il che
spiega eziandio come la legislazione decemvirale l'ha solo ammessa contro i
nexi, gli aeris confessi e i iudicati, e come la plebe lotta cosi lungamente
per l'abolizione del nexum, il quale forse era ancora un segno dell'antica sua
soggezione servile. Per quello poi, che si riferisce all'esercizio privato
delle proprie ragioni, mi limito ad osservare, che esso nel dominio del diritto
corrisponde alla vendetta nel campo dei delitti e delle pene. Quindi, come è
esistita la vendetta anche fra le genti italiche, così dove anche esservi un
tempo, in cui fra queste esiste l'esercizio privato delle proprie ragioni.
Questo tuttavia può affermarsi con certezza, che l'intento supremo
dell'organizzazione gentilizia e quello di impedire fra i membri di esse cosi
la vendetta, che l'esercizio privato e senza confini delle proprie ragioni. E a
questo scopo, che il fas, il ius e il mos riunirono i proprii sforzi, e solo a
forze riunite riuscirono a cacciare dalla comunanza la violenza, che continuo a
dominare fra le persone, che non appartenevano alla medesima e quindi non
avevano fra di loro comunanza di diritto. Quindi non è più nell'organizzazione
gentilizia, che deve cercarsi l'esercizio privato delle proprie ragioni, dal
momento che in essa tutto è regolato dal mos e dal fas, e che il suo intento
supremo e quello dimettere termine allo stato anteriore di violenza. Fin qui si
considerano soltanto le norme direttive dai rapporti giuridici, che intercedono
fra i capi dei diversi gruppi, norme le quali finiranno per dare in parte
origine a quel diritto, che e poi chiamato ius quiritium dapprima e ius civium
romanorum più tardi. Ora importa cercare invece, quali rapporti corressero fra
i varii gruppi collettivamente considerati, e quale sia stata l'origine del
primitivo ius pacis ac belli. Anche i rapporti fra le varie genti,
collettivamente considerate, hanno nel periodo gentilizio un carattere
esclusivamente patriarcale, e appariscono modellati sui rapporti, che possono
intercedere fra i varii capi di famiglia. E a questo proposito parmi anzitutto
opportuno di rettificare un concetto, che ormai suole essere ripetuto come un
dogma, mentre in verità non merita di essere considerato come tale. Di regola
suol dirsi, che lo stato naturale delle antiche genti fosse lo stato di guerra.
Esse invece non erano nè in uno stato di pace, nè in uno stato di guerra; ma si
consideravano come indipendenti le une dalle altre e non avevano fra di loro
comunanza di diritto. Era quindi facile, che fra loro scoppiasse la guerra, ma
questa non e però lo stato naturale di esse. Ciò e come dire, che due persone
che non si conosceno e non hanno fra di loro alcun rapporto giuridico sonno fra
di loro in lotta. Puo darsi che esse siano in reciproca diffidenza, e che
stiano in guardia: ma non percio puo dirsi che siano in guerra effettiva fra di
loro. Ci vorrà pur sempre qualche causa, od anche semplicemente un pretesto,
perchè l'una si arresti minacciosa contro dell'altra. Sarebbe qui inutile
citare tutti gli autori, che professano questa opinione; mi basta ricordare
LAURENT, Histoire du droit des gens a Roma; il JHERING, L'esprit du droit
romain, il quale attribuirebbe a questo stato di guerra il concentrarsi delle
genti antiche nella città, a cui esse appartengono; il che è certamente vero,
ma non proviene unicamente dalle guerre esteriori, ma anche da ciò, che,
creandosi una nuova forma di connivenza sociale, e naturale, che tutte le forze
ed energie vitali si concentrassero in essa. Anche Fusinato sembra dividere la
stessa opinione nel suo lavoro: Dei Feziali e del di ritto feziale, Roma, «
Atti della R. Accademia dei Lincei », Memorie, Classe scienze mor. stor.
filologiche, -- al quale io mi rimetto quanto alla bibliografia completissima
sul tema. Egli tuttavia già trova, che il popolo romano e stato, fra le altre
genti, il meno esclusivo su questo punto, a differenza di PADELLETTI, Storia
del diritto romano. Che questi e lo stato dei rapporti fra le genti primitive è
provato dalla distinzione, che nell'antico linguaggio già viene fatta fra “hostis”
e “perduellis”. “Hostis” chiamasi quello straniero, con cui non sonno rapporto
di diritto, e contro il quale il popolo romano si riserva piena ed intera la
propria autorità giuridica e la propria libertà di azione. “Perduellis,” nella
sua significazione, e colui con cui era scoppiato il dissidio, e col quale, per
mancanza di un comune diritto, venne ad essere necessità di appigliarsi alla
guerra. E solo più tardi, che il vocabolo di “hostis” assunse una
significazione più dura e significa il nemico. In allora le significazioni
accettate furono le seguenti. “Peregrinus” chiamasi colui, col quale non havvi
nè amicizia, nè ospitalità, nè alleanza; “hostis” quegli, con cui Roma trovasi
in guerra aperta; “perduellis” infine colui, che nell'interno dello stato
cerchi di recare perturbazione e conflitto, mettendosi in lotta coll'interesse
della patria sua. Questa trasformazione si opera però lenta e note relative, il
quale attribuirebbe al popolo romano una esclusività maggiore degli altri
popoli, per trattarsi di un popolo agricoltore, conservatore e guerresco ad un
tempo. Per parte mia ritengo, che i romani in questa parte si governano colle
norme stesse delle altre genti italiche, come lo dimostra il fatto che il
primitivo ius foeciale è loro comune cogli altri popoli, da cui sono
circondati. Non posso però ammettere che essi, sopratutto nei primi tempi, si
ritenne in stato naturale di guerra cogli altri popoli; perchè in tal caso
tutte le formalità dell'antico ius foeciale si converte in una commedia
inesplicabile e in contraddizione col prin cipio direttivo dei rapporti fra le
varie genti. Quanto agli argomenti, che sono messi in campo, essi consistono in
sostanza nella significazione di hostis e nel passo di Pomponio, Leg. Dig. Quanto
a questo passo di PomPONIO, egli, anzichè affermare che gli stranieri sono
nemici, dice anzi espressamente che – “si cum gente aliqua neque amicitiam,
neque hospitium, neque foedus amicitiae causa factum habemus, hi hostes quidem
non sunt.” Tuttavia siccome con questa gente non vi ha comunione di diritto,
così contro di “aeterna auctoritas esto” -- donde la conseguenza, che se le
cose nostre cadono in loro mano, diventano loro proprie, e così pure se le cose
loro vadano in mano dei romani: certo la conseguenza è grave, ma essa non è una
conseguenza dello stato di guerra, ma bensì di ciò che fra i due popoli non esiste
comunanza di diritto. Nè vorrei si dicesse, che la questione sia soltanto di
parole, poichè se la guerra e lo stato naturale, non si sa come CICERONE scrive:
“Nullum bellum esse iustum, nisi quod aut rebus repetitis geratur, aut de
nuntiatum ante sit, et indictum.” De off, e De Rep. Del resto anche questa
opinione è una conseguenza del ritenere, che le cerimonie del diritto feziale e
semplici formalità esteriori, il che certamente non dove essere, allorchè
questa procedura fra le genti venne ad essere introdotta. essa [mente, e nella
stessa legislazione decemvirale, che, come tutta legge, tende a conservare i
vocaboli nella loro significazione arcaica, il vocabolo di « hostis », continua
ancora sempre a significare colui, col quale non esiste comunione di diritto,
come lo dimostrano le espressioni ricordate da Cicerone di “status dies cum
hoste” e l'altra “adversus hostem aeterna auctoritas esto.” Del resto, che il
vocabolo “hostis” negli esordii non suonasse nemico, nella significazione, che
noi siamo soliti attribuire a questo vocabolo, viene anche ad essere dimostrato
dall'analogia evidente, che corre fra i vocaboli di “hostis” e di hospes, il
quale ultimo sarebbe una sincope di hosti-pes, che significa o protettore dello
straniero o straniero ricevuto in protezione -- donde anche i vocaboli di
hospitium e di hospitari. Fermo questo concetto dei rapporti, che intercedeno
fra le genti, che non entrano a far parte della medesima tribù e non hanno
perciò comunione di diritto fra di loro, viene ad essere facile il comprendere
come qualsiasi rapporto giuridico fra di esse dovesse derivare dalla
convenzione e dal patto; per modo che anche il “ius pacis ac belli” dove avere
un'origine contrattuale, analoga a quella, che abbiamo riscontrato nei rapporti
privati fra i diversi capi di famiglia. Infatti al rapporto di carattere
negativo, che intercede fra le varie genti, per cui sono estranee le une alle
altre, pud poi sottentrare il rapporto positivo di pace o di guerra. Tanto
l'uno come l'altro indicano, che le genti sono già uscite da quello stato di
indifferenza reciproca, in cui si trovavano fra di loro. Quindi perchè siavi lo
stato di pace, già occorre che fra le genti sia intervenuta una conven [BRÉAL,
Dict. étym. lat., Paris, vº Hospes e Hostis. Del resto questo trasformarsi
dalla significazione di hostis viene ad essere indicato con una mirabile
chiarezza da CICERONE, allorchè scrive. “Hostis enim apud maiores nostros is
dicebatur, quem nunc peregrinum dicimus.” “Quamquam id nomen durius iam effecit
vetustas; a peregrino enim recessit, et proprie in eo, qui contra arma ferret,
re mansit.” De off., I, 12. Ciò è poi confermato da VARRONE, De ling. lat., V,
I (Bruns, Fontes). Intanto l'analogia, che vi ha fra hostis straniero, ed
hospes, che significa e lo straniero ricevuto in protezione, come pure il
fatto, che nelle origini “per-duellis” significa il nemico esterno ed interno
ad un tempo, costituiscono una nuova prova, che in quei primordii non
distinguevasi la guerra pubblica dalla privata, nè i dissidii interni delle
guerre esterne. E solo più tardi, nel seno della città e nei rapporti delle
città fra di loro, che potè operarsi questa distinzione, e in allora talvolta i
reggitori della città si appigliarono alle guerre esterne per sopire le lotte
interne.] zione od un patto (come lo dimostra l'analogia fra il vocabolo di “pax”
e quello di “pactum”). Al modo stesso che, accio siano in istato di guerra,
occorre, che siavi una dichiarazione della medesima, tanto più se trattisi di
genti che, senza essere in rapporto giuridico fra di loro, riconoscano pero
l'impero del fas. Si può quindi affermare con certezza, che anche il “ius pacis
ac belli” già erasi formato anteriormente alla formazione della comunanza
romana, e che la medesima in questa parte non fa che attenersi a pratiche e a
riti, i quali, preparatisi in un periodo anteriore ed affidati alla custodia di
un collegio sacerdotale, furono poi applicati con qualche modificazione ai
rapporti, che vennero a svolgersi più tardi fra i popoli e le città. Di qui in
tanto, deriva la conseguenza, che il diritto, che suol essere chiamato foeciale,
essendo stato trapiantato da uno in altro periodo di organizzazione sociale,
acquisce un carattere artificioso, che lo fa talvolta apparire come un
ostentazione puramente esteriore, diretta non a provare che le guerre si fa per
una giusta causa, ma piuttosto a dissimulare l'ingiustizia intrinseca della
guerra. Non può tuttavia esservi dubbio, che essó, trasportato nell'ambiente,
in cui ebbe a formarsi, ha dovuto essere una procedura viva e reale, la quale
ebbe ad essere determinata dalle condizioni, in cui si trovano le genti.
Siccome nel periodo gentilizio i rapporti di pace, che si vengono a stabilire
pressochè contrattualmente fra le varie genti, si riducono in sostanza a
rapporti fra i capi delle medesime. Cosi essi finiscono per modellarsi e per
ricavare la propria denominazione dai rapporti stessi, che possono intercedere
fra i loro capi. In altri termini quei vocaboli stessi, che indicano le
gradazioni diverse, in cui possono trovarsi i capi delle varie genti, sono pur
quelli, che desi gnano il vincolo più o meno stretto, in cui possono essere le
varie genti o i varii popoli, fra cui intervenne una convenzione di pace. Cosicchè
i vocaboli anche qui vengono a dimostrare, come in quei primi tempi non esiste
la distinzione fra i rapporti pubblici dei varii gruppi ed i rapporti privati
fra i capi, da cui essi sono rappresentati. I vocaboli, intanto, che indicano
questi rapporti pubblici e privati ad un tempo, sono quelli di amicitia, di
hospitium societas. Prima presentasi l' “amicitial”, che indica quel rapporto
contrattuale, che intercede fra due genti diverse o meglio ancora fra i capi di
esse, senza che il medesimo imponga obbligo reciproco di difesa e di aiuto in
tempo di guerra. La gente “amica” è quella, a cui si puo, in caso di bisogno,
ricorrere per un favore e con cui si intenda di intrattenere amichevole
commercio. L'amicizia quindi conduce già ad un riconoscimento del diritto della
gente amica, e quindi se una persona, od una cosa venga a cadere in mano di una
gente amica, questa non puo appropriarsela; il che e potuto fare, allorchè non e
esistita fra di loro alcuna comunanza di diritto. Possono tuttavia esservi dei
casi, in cui i reciproci commerci, fra individui, che appartengono a tribù
diverse, porgano occasione al sorgere di controversie. Quindi fra i patti, che
accompagnano i trattati di amicizia, dovette essere frequente quello, che più
tardi noi troviamo indicato col vocabolo di “actio” e specialmente con quello
di “reciperatio”; il quale è certamente bene appropriato per significare il
rapporto, a cui intendeva di accennare, malgrado le difficoltà di in
terpretazione a cui esso da luogo. È nota in proposito la definizione di Elio
Gallo. “Reciperatio est, cum inter populum, reges, natio nesque et civitates
peregrinas lex convenit, quomodo per recipe ratores reddantur res
reciperenturque, resque privatas inter se persequantur.” La sua interpretazione
non può dar luogo a dubbio, quando diasi al vocabolo di “lex” la sua
significazione primitiva di convenzione e di patto; interpretazione, che del
resto è anche imposta dall'espressione di “lex convenit.” È evidente infatti,
che qui trattasi di un patto intervenuto prima fra le tribù e più tardi fra i
popoli, le nazioni e le città, nell'intento di permettere ai membri delle
genti, delle tribù e delle città di far valere rispettivamente le proprie
ragioni presso la gente, tribù o città, con cui trovansi in rapporto di
amicizia; come pure è evidente la correlazione, che intercede fra questo
vocabolo e quello di “rerum repetitio”, che costitue uno dei preliminari, che
precedevano la vera dichiarazione di guerra. Questo vocabolo è poi meglio
spiegato da quello di reciprocare, il quale, secondo Festo, significa « ultro
citroque poscere » cioè far valere rispettivamente le proprie ragioni: vocabolo,
che anche oggidi conserva l'antica sua significazione in quei trattati fra gli
stati e le nazioni, che chiamansi di reciprocità e di reciprocanza. Ciò infine spiega
eziandio, come si chiamano recuperatores quei giudici od arbitri, che sono chiamati
a risolvere le controversie degli stranieri fra di loro e dei cittadini cogli
stranieri. Infine si viene anche a darsi ragione, come in una città come Roma,
che e sempre un emporio di tutte le genti, i recuperatores abbiano finito per
essere una autorità giudiziaria, pressochè permanente, la quale, mentre decide
le questioni con stranieri, puo anche essere chiamata a risolvere delle
controversie fra i cittadini, in quei casi sopratutto, in cui non si trattasse
di applicare il ius quiritium, ma piuttosto quei iura gentium, che fin dai
primi tempi dovettero almeno di fatto esistere accanto al medesimo. A proposito
dei “re-cuperatores”, si è poi lungamente disputato se i medesimi fossero
chiamati soltanto a risolvere controversie di diritto privato, o se potessero
essere chiamati eziandio a risolvere controversie di carattere pubblico fra i
popoli e le genti. La definizione di Elio Gallo sembra comprendere le une e le
altre, in quanto che essa accenna alla ricupera delle cose tolte da un popolo
ad un altro, e alla prosecuzione delle cose private. Se quindi e lecito
avventurare una congettura, misembrerebbe essere probabile, che in quell'epoca,
in cui ancora mal si distingue la ragion pubblica dalla privata, i
recuperatores, che sono persone scelte fra le due genti amiche, possono essere
arbitri dell'uno ed un altro genere di controversie, perchè queste tenevano del
pubblico e del privato ad un tempo. Allorchè invece, al disopra delle genti,
venne a formarsi la città, e per tal modo comincia a distinguersi la cosa
pubblica dalla privata, i recuperatores hanno circoscritta la propria
competenza alle controversie di carattere privato. Fu in allora che i
recuperatores si manteneno per le controversie di indole privata, e che i “fetiales”
sono creati invece per le controversie, che insorgevano fra i varii popoli. E allora
parimenti che la recuperatio e il modo, con cui gli individui “res privatas
inter se persequuntur”, mentre la “rerum repetitio” divenne un preliminare
della guerra. E allora infine che i iura gentium si vennero biforcando, e
mentre da una parte il vocabolo di ius gen tium rimane ad indicare un complesso
di norme, che governa i rapporti di indole privata, quello invece di ius
foeciale o di ius belli ac pacis e adoperato per indicare i rapporti di
carattere pubblico fra i popoli e le città. Anche qui insomma non si fa che
applicare un processo, le cui traccie sono evidenti in ogni argomento, il quale
consiste nel “publica privatis secernere, sacra profanes” -- Di qui deriva
quell'incertezza di significazione, che questi vocaboli sembrano avere nelle
proprie origini; incertezza, che non dovette recare imbarazzo a coloro, che
avevano operate queste distinzioni; ma che complica invece grandemente l'opera
di coloro che tentano fondarsi sovra pochissime vestigia di ricostrurre l'opera
compiuta. Al modo stesso poi, che nei rapporti fra i privati dopo l'amico viene
l'ospite, il quale già viene accolto nella casa e per qualche tempo entra in
certo modo a far parte della famiglia; cosi nei rapporti fra le varie genti, al
disopra dell'amicitia, viene a comparire l'hospitium. L'ospitalità, che diventa
un ufficio di cortesia presso le nazioni civili, è invece una vera necessità
presso tutti i popoli primitivi, i quali senza di essa si troverebbero isolati
gli uni dagli altri. Non è quindi meraviglia, se i doveri dell'ospitalità,
oltre al fondarsi sul costume, entrino eziandio sotto la protezione del fas, e
se la medesima, presso le genti primitive, tenda ad acquistare un carattere
ereditario. L'ospite entra in un certo senso a far parte della stessa famiglia,
come lo dimostra il fatto che gli antichi giureconsulti disputano perfino, se
gl’ufficii verso l'ospite dovessero precedere o susseguire quelli verso il
cliente: nella quale questione, [Quanto alla definizione della recuperatio,
HUSCHKE, Jurisp. ante-iust. quae sup. Questa congettura, che d'altronde è molto
semplice, ha il vantaggio di risolvere parecchie controversie, che sono
largamente trattate da Voigt, Das ius naturale, gentium, etc., e dal Fusinato,
Dei Feziali e del diritto feziale. Essa spiega anzitutto come una sola frase,
quello di “ius gentium”, possa presentarsi con un duplice significato (V.
FusInATO, dove egli combatte in parte l'opinione del Voigt). Essa spiega in
secondo luogo, come la recuperatio, che più tardi trovasi solo applicata alle
controversie private, nell'antica sua definizione comprenda invece anche quelle
di carattere pubblico. Di qui una divergenza fra Fusinato da una parte, che
vorrebbe negare ai recuperatores ogni competenza giudiziaria in interessi di
pubblica natura e il SelL ed il Rein da lui citati, che sostengono invece
un'opinione diversa. Credo poi che non possa essere posta in dubbio l'analogia
strettissima fra recuperatio e rerum repetitio, sebbene i due vocaboli abbiano
ciascuno una propria significazione, poichè recuperatio significa reciproca
actio, mentre rerum repetitio significa il tentativo, che un popolo fa per
riavere ciò che gli fu tolto, prima di appigliarsi alla guerra. Del resto
questa stessa analogia compare fra le noxae datio del diritto privato e le
noxae deditio dei cittadini colpevoli contro il diritto delle genti, di cui
discorre lo stesso Fusinato. Ciò significa pertanto, che noi ci troviamo di
fronte ad un processo logicamente applicato in tutte le distinzioni, che si
vennero introducendo fra i rapporti pubblici e privati, e quindi la coerenza
stessa dei risultati, in varii argomenti ad un tempo, dimostra come sia fondata
la congettura di cui si tratta. Come poi i recuperatores sono in Roma
an’autorità giudiziaria, pressochè permanente, appare da ciò, che essi non sono
ignoti alla stessa legislazione decemvirale, il cui impero era ristretto ai
soli cittadini.] -- mentre vi era chi colloca prima le persone affidate alla
tutela del capo di famiglia, poi il cliente, quindi l'ospite. Masurio Sabino
invece preponeva l'ospite al cliente. Tutti però sono concordi nel ritenere,
che l'ospite dove avere la precedenza sui cognati e sugli affini. Non puo
quindi essere temeraria la congettura, che l'ospitalità e la clientela sono
nell'organizzazione gentilizia due istituzioni, che hanno una correlazione fra
di loro; colla differenza, che la ospitalità importa solo una difesa e
protezione provvisoria, mentre la clientela importa un rapporto di protezione
permanente. Sotto quest'aspetto pertanto, si puo dire che il cliente venne
prima del l'ospite. Ma, quando, invece si consideri che la clientela importa
subordinazione e dipendenza, mentre l'ospitalità può alternarsi in guisa che
l'ospitato di un giorno sia l'ospite in un altro, ben si puo comprendere il
motivo, per cui Masurio Sabino concede sotto questo aspetto la precedenza
all'ospite sopra il cliente, in quanto che l'ospite e l'ospitato sono in
rapporto di UGUAGLIANZA fra di loro, il che non accade del patrono e del
cliente. Così il concetto dell'amicitia, che quello dell'hospitium, dove nel
periodo gentilizio avere un carattere pubblico e privato ad un tempo. E solo
posteriormente, quando dalle genti e dalle tribù usceno le città, che cosi
l'amicitia come l'hospitium subirono quella distinzione, che si opera in
qualsiasi altro argomento, per cui si ebbero l'amicitia e l'hospitium pubblico
e privato. Che anzi nella transizione fuvvi un periodo, in cui la casa stessa
del re dapprima e del magistrato dappoi servì per accogliere gl’ospiti del
popolo romano; ma, a misura che si venne distinguendo l'ente collettivo dello stato
dalla persona dei singoli cittadini, si dove anche distinguere l'amicizia e
l'ospitalità in pubblica e in privata. Cosi e un effetto della pubblica
amicizia, che il cittadino romano, quando e fatto prigioniero di guerra, gode
senz'altro del diritto di postliminio, appena ponesse il piede nel territorio
di un re alleato od anche solo amico, poichè da quel momento comincia ad essere
“pubblico nomine tutus.” Parimenti l'hospitium pubblicum, allorchè e accordato
non solo ad un individuo, ma alla intiera popolazione di una città, venne a
cambiarsi in certo modo nella [V. sopra il passo di Masurio Sabino -- Dig.] concessione
della civitas sine suffragio: il che rende non destituita di fondamento
l'opinione di coloro, i quali, dietro l'autorità del Niebhur, vogliono trovare
nel concetto dell'hospitium pubblicum la primitiva significazione, che, secondo
Festo, e stata attribuita al vocabolo di “municipium”. Infine al disopra
dell'amicizia e dell'ospitalità, presentasi la “societas”. Qui non trattasi più
di semplici officii di cortesia, ma di obbligazioni che già assumono un
carattere giuridico; poichè la “societas” fra le genti, al pari della societas
fra i privati, è un accomunare le proprie forze per il conseguimento di un
intento comune, e per ripartire i vantaggi, che si possono ricavare dall'opera
insieme “associate”. I patti e le condizioni di questa “societas” possono
essere molto diversi; ma di regola essa importa alleanza difensiva ed offensiva
delle genti, fra cui interviene, e una conseguente ripartizione del bottino. Di
qui la conseguenza, che mentre l'amicizia e l'ospitalità possono anche trovare
origine nel fatto e nella consuetudine; la “societas” invece suppone una
convenzione espressa fra le genti ed i popoli, fra cui interviene: quindi con
essa viene a sorgere il concetto del foedus, il quale ha larghissimo
svolgimento e da luogo ad importantissime conseguenze nel periodo gentilizio.
Per quanto sia dubbià l'origine della parola, questo è certo, che l'essenza del
“foedus” sta nella “fides”, che stringe quelli che entrano in confederazione
fra di loro, e che il medesimo, nei rapporti fra le varie genti, compie quello
stesso ufficio, a cui adempie il contratto fra i singoli capi di famiglia.
Infatti, sebbene di regola sogliano ado perarsi come sinonimi i due vocaboli di
societas e di foedus, è [NIEBhur, Histoire romaine. Questa opinione e sostenuta
dal TADDEI, Roma e i suoi municipii, Firenze] Senza negare che possa esservi
esistito un qualche rapporto fra l'hospitium pubblicum e il municipium, nella
prima delle significazioni che è attribuita a quest'ultimo vocabolo da Festo,
vº Municipium, vuolsi però avere presente che l'hospitium è istituzione di
origine gentilizia, mentre il municipium suppone già esistente e svolta la
convivenza civile e politica.] però facile l'avvertire, che i medesimi,
sopratutto negli inizii, dove avere significazione diversa. Mentre infatti la “societas”
indica il rapporto, in cui entrano le genti ed i popoli, il vocabolo di “foedus”
invece significa di preferenza l'accordo, la convenzione, con cui questo
rapporto viene ad essere stipulato. Che anzi, siccome fra le genti non si
distinguono i rapporti di carattere pubblico da quelli di carattere privato:
cosi il vocabolo “foedus: si presenta dapprima con una larghissima
significazione, instesse convenzioni e stipulazioni private e, sopratutto nei filosofi,
significa persino quelle convenzioni tacite, che sembrano stringere tutti i
popoli, che si trovino in analoghe condizioni di civiltà: convenzioni e
rapporti, che sono appunto indicati col vocabolo di “foedera generis humani”,
poichè il popolo che vi venisse meno sembra in certo modo uscire dal novero
dalle umane genti. Tali so fra i romani l'inviolabilità e l'immunità dei
legati, senza la quale e stata impossibile qualsiasi trattativa fra genti, che
non hanno fra di loro comunione di diritto; tale e eziandio quel costume
veramente umano per cui, terminata la battaglia, ad divenivasi ad una breve
tregua, accio i due eserciti potessero addi venire alla sepoltura dei morti. Di
più, anche nei rapporti fra le genti, il “foedus” non significa soltanto la
confederazione o l'alleanza; ma puo significare qualsiasi accordo, che venisse
a seguire fra due popoli, sia per conchiudere la pace, sia per rimettere la
decisione della guerra ad un duello fra individui scelti negli eserciti che si
trovavano di fronte, ed anche quell'accordo, in base a cui si addivenne alla
deditio di un popolo ad un altro e se ne fissano le condizioni. Il “foedus”
insomma indica il momento, in cui l'elemento contrattuale comincia a penetrare
nei rapporti fra le varie genti; ed è perciò, che, malgrado tutti i dubbii che
possano avere gl’etimologi, non sotrattenermi dall'esprimere la persuasione
profonda, che il vocabolo di “ius foeciale”, con cui si indicava il complesso
delle pratiche e delle trattative, che poterono seguire fra i varii popoli così
in pace, come in guerra, non può essere che una corruzione ed una sincope di “ius
foederale”. Gl’etimologi non possono accertare che “foedus” origina da “fides”,
nè che “foeciale” derivi da “foedus”. Ma questo è certo, che le parole di “fides”,
“foedus”, e “foeciale”, come sembrano avere una parentela materiale, così hanno
una strettissima attinenza, quanto al concetto dalle medesime espresso, ed è
questo il motivo, per cui continuo a scrivere “ius foeciale” a vece di “ius
fetiale.” Quanto alla larghissima significazione pri [Intanto il “foedus” è il rapporto
fra le genti e le tribù, che suppone un maggiore progresso nell'organizzazione
sociale. Qui infatti non è più il caso di un semplice ufficio di amicizia e di
ospitalità; ma trattasi già di un rapporto che assume il carattere GIURIDICO,
in quanto che il foedus impone alle genti e alle tribù, che vi addivengono,
delle vere e proprie obbligazioni giuridiche, sebbene queste continuino ancora
sempre ad essere sotto la protezione del fas. Gli è perciò, che col foedus già
comincia a comparire quell'istituto della stipulazione giuridica, che le genti
latine recarono non solo nelle convenzioni private, ma eziandio nelle
convenzioni di pubblica natura; stipulazione che, a mio avviso, dovette
probabilmente essere prima adoperata per i rapporti di carattere pubblico, che
non per quelli di carattere privato. Quanto alle formalità solenni, che
accompagnavano il foedus, ritengo, che se più tardi potè essere attribuita
importanza sopratutto all'elemento esteriore, che serve per dargli il carattere
di iustum, come lo dava al testamento, alle nozze e a qualsiasi altro atto;
questo è però certo, che le cerimonie, che accompagnavano la conclusione del
foedus nel periodo, in cui si vennero formando, dovettero avere una reale ed
effettiva significazione. Non dove quindi nel periodo gentilizio esservi un “pater
patratus”, che addivenisse alla formazione dell'alleanza: ma erano i padri o
capi effettivi delle genti, che da essi erano rappresentati, quelli che
conchiudevano il patto. Così pure dovette anche avere una efficace
significazione l'obtestatio deorum, per cui chiedevasi il divino in testimonio
del patto, che interveniva fra di essi, e si poneva il trattato sotto la
protezione del fas, chiamando la collera del cielo contro colui, che venisse
meno al patto intervenuto, e simboleggiando, col ferire con un coltello di
selce la vittima, il modo, con cui il divino avrebbe colpito il violatore del
patto. [mitiva di foedus, essa appare
sopratutto dall'uso che ne fanno I filosofi latini, pei quali indica dapprima
qualsiasi patto fra gli individui e fra le genti; quindi anche qui abbiamo una
parola, che si rifere dapprima ai rapporti pubblici e privati ad un tempo;
argomento questo che gli uni non si distinguevano dagli altri. Questo
significato di foeduse presentito dal nostro Vico, allorchè chiama le
religioni, le sepolture ed i matrimonii “i foedera generis humani”. Il duplice
significato pubblico e privato di foedus occorre poi nel seguente passo di Livio
– “Aenean apud Latinum fuisse in hospitio: ibi Latinum, apud penates deos, dome
sticum pubblico adiunxisse foedus, filia Aeneae in matrimonium data.” Questo è
provato anche da ciò, che nel primo caso narratoci di un patto se [Questo ad
ogni modo è fuori di ogni dubbio, che il concetto del foedus, vincolo religioso
e giuridico ad un tempo fra le varie genti e le tribù, ha certamente a
precedere la formazione della comunanza romana, e dove anche prima ricevere
applicazioni molteplici e diverse, durante il period gentilizio. Il foedus può
essere anzitutto il mezzo, con cui si pone termine allo stato di guerra fra
diverse tribù, e siccome al momento, in cui si addiviene al medesimo, le sorti
delle armi possono essere diverse per i contendenti, cosi è probabile, che già,
anteriormente a Roma, dovesse esservi quella distinzione, di cui essa poi fa
così larga applicazione fra il “foedus aequum” ed il “foedus non aequum”.
Eranvi infatti dei casi, in cui il foedus, nella significazione di convenzione
e di trattato, serve, come ricorda Gellio, per dettare la legge ai vinti; altri
in cui, senza opprimere affatto quello dei contendenti, per cui volgessero
sfavorevoli le sorti della guerra, il medesimo in una posizione di ossequio e
di subordinazione verso quello che sta per vincere, il che costituie appunto il
“foedus non aequum” e da origine ad una specie di clientela di un popolo verso
un'altro, che nell'epoca romana e poi indicata coll'espressione « at maiestatem
populi romani coleret »; altri infine, in cui, essendo incerte le sorti della
guerra, si pone termine alla medesima con un “aequum foedus” e si veniva,
secondo i patti, alla reciproca restituzione dei prigionieri di guerra e
all'abbandono del territorio occupato.] si pone. Per quanto poi si riferisce a
quella distinzione fra foedus e sponsio, stata invocata qualche volta dai romani,
sembra che la medesima costituisca già un'applicazione, eminentemente giuridica,
trovata dallo stesso popolo romano e posteriore alla formazione della città. È
noto in proposito, che i romani ritenevano per foedus il trattato guìto secondo
il “ius foeciale”, che è quello relativo al combattimento degl’orazii e dei curiazii,
DIONISIO ci narra, che il medesimo e solennemente stipulato, e che due
cittadini eletti a ciò, facendo le veci di padri dei due popoli, lo sancirono a
nome di ciascuno d'essi. Dion. Cfr. Bonghi, Storia di Roma. Ritengo poi
verosimile l'opinione di Pantaleoni, ricordata da Fusinato, “Le droit
international de la république romaine” (Bruxelles) – “Revue de droit
international”, secondo cui il coltello di selce rimonterebbe all'età della
pietra, poichè questo studio di conservare anche materialmente l'antico è
veramente nel carattere romano. Quanto alle varie specie di foedera fra le
città ed i re è da vedersi Livio. Esempii poi di foedera non aequa possono
vedersi in Gellio, Noc. att., e nello stesso Livio] stipulato coll'intervento
del “pater patratus” e colle cerimonie tutte del “ius foeciale”, mentre “sponsio”
e la pace giurata soltanto dal generale. Mentre il primo obbliga direttamente
il popolo pomano, l'altra invece, quando non fosse ratificata dal senato,
obbliga solo a fare la consegna del generale, che ha giurato la pace. Ora è
evidente, che questa distinzione cosi ingegnosa e sottile presuppone già il
passaggio dall'organizzazione gentilizia alla città propriamente detta. Finchè
trattasi di tribù o di genti, è il pater o capo effettivo della tribù, che la
guida nelle sue imprese militari, e quindi è egli stesso, che tratta la pace
circondato da altri capi, ed adempie alle cerimonie tutte di carattere
religioso, che devono accompagnare la stipulazione del foedus. Non occorre
quindi ancora l'artificio del “pater patratus”, nè l'intervento dei feziali,
perchè esso possa obbligare direttamente il proprio popolo. Quando invece
trattasi di una città, tanto più se retta a repubblica, il generale non può più
dirsi che rappresenti il popolo e il senato, e quindi egli non può addivenire
che ad una semplice “sponsio”, la quale, per essere cambiata in un vero
trattato, abbisogna della ratifica del senato e dell'adempimento delle
cerimonie del diritto feziale. Intanto pero, siccome il generale è colpevole
per aver giurata una promessa, che non mantiene o per aver obligato il popolo
oltre i limiti del suo mandato; cosi il senato, che non ratifica il suo operato,
si appiglia alla noxae deditio del generale stesso. Intanto si comprende, che
altri popoli, come i Sanniti, al tempo della pace delle forche caudine, i quali
non erano ancora pervenuti ad un eguale sviluppo della loro organizzazione
civile e politica, stentassero a comprendere questa sottigliezza giuridica dei romani:
poichè per essi il loro generale era anche il loro capo effettivo, e quindi puo
obbligare direttamente il popolo da lui rappresentato. Non parmi quindi, che
possa essere il caso di introdurre qui la triplice distinzione, a cui accenna
Mommsen nel “Le droit public romain” fra la semplice “sponsio” del capitano, il
foedus foeciale e il foedus del solo capitano; poichè è dichiarato abbastanza
chiaramente da Livio, che tanto il foedus che la sponsio, se siano fatte in iussu
populi, non possono obbligare il popolo romano. Quindi la distinzione viene ad
essere questa: o la convenzione è opera del solo capitano, in iussu populi ac
senatus, che sono quelli che inviano i feziali, e in allora abbiamo una semplice
sponsio; o invece vi ha il iussus populi ac senatus, che inviano i feziali e
abbiamo il vero foedus: donde la prova che la distinzione dove essere un
effetto del passaggio dall'organizzazione gentilizia all'organizzazione
politica. Cfr. Fusinato, “Dei Feziali e del diritto feziale.” Non credo poi si
possa ammettere con Mommsen, che sulla forma del foedus ha esercitata una
visibile influenza la teoria del contratto, in quanto che nel foedus sarebbesi
adoperata per analogia la forma della stipulazione, come quella che era
considerata come il modo generale e di diritto comune per contrarre le
obbligazioni. Ciò è del tutto impossibile: perchè è certo che esisteno già il
foedus e la sponsio nei rapporti fra i varii popoli e che l'uno e l'altra già
si stipulano con quella forma determinata, assai prima che i giureconsulti
costruissero la teoria della stipulazione e ne fanno applicazione alle
convenzioni private. Del resto la forma della stipulazione, adoperata dai romani
nei rapporti col divino, nella formazione della legge, nella conclusione dei
trattati di pace, solo più tardi sembra essere stata accolta nel diritto civile
romano ed applicata alle convenzioni private; per guisa che vi sono autori, che
ritengono la stipulazione nelle convenzioni private come di impor tazione greca.
Il vero si è, che nel diritto primitivo trovasi sempre un'analogia fra i
rapporti di diritto pubblico e quelli di diritto privato; la quale deriva da
ciò, che nel periodo gentilizio tanto gli uni come gli altri sono rapporti tra
capi di gruppo, e quindi le stesse forme, che servono nei rapporti fra le varie
genti, possono poi anche servire nei rapporti contrattuali e privati. Sonvi
però molte pratiche comuni agli uni e agli altri e fra le altre havvi quella
della sponsio, che sembrano aver acquistato forma ed efficacia giuridica prima
nei rapporti fra le genti, che nei rapporti dicarattere privato. Del resto cio
è anche attestato da Gaio, che chiama sottigliezza il voler applicare la teoria
della stipulazione privata alla sponsio del generale romano; poichè, se si
venga meno al patto, non ex stipulata agitur, sed iure belli res vindicatur. V.
Mommsen, Le droit public romain, il quale, secondo la traduzione Gérard, di cui
mi valgo, scrive. “En ce qui concerne la forme, le principe du droit civil a
fait employer ici par analogie les formes de la stipulation, parce qu'elle
était considérée comme le mode général et de droit commun de contracter des
obligations.” Parmi, con tutta la riverenza al dottissimo autore, che questa
proposizione non possa essere accolta, e che sarebbe vera piuttosto la
proposizione inversa. Infatti secondo MUIRHEAD, Hist. Introd., e molti altri,
la sponsio o stipulatio nelle convenzioni private non sarebbe penetrate in
Roma, che verso l’epoca, in cui la teoria della sponsio e del foedus, nei
rapporti fra le città ed i popoli, aveva già ricevuto tutto il suo sviluppo.
Quindi è che pur non ainmettendo l'opinione del MUIRHEAD, in quanto che ritengo
che la sponsio e romana fino dalle origini e vivesse nel costume, anche [Un'altra
applicazione del foedus era anche quella, per cui tribù e genti, che potevano
anche non essere in guerra fra di loro, stringevano fra di loro un'alleanza, i
cui patti potevano essere molto diversi, ma che il più spesso costituiva una
lega difensiva ed offensiva ad un tempo; la cui idea tipica pud essere ricavata
dal foedus latinum, detto anche foedus Cassianum, il cui tenore ha ad esserci
conservato da Dionisio. È poi notabile, che queste specie di alleanze fra tribù
e popoli vicini, siccome per lo più dipendevano da relazioni ed aderenze fra i
capi di gruppo, cosi si venivano for mando e disfacendo con grande facilità,
per cui bene spesso l'alleato di oggi poteva essere il nemico di domani. Il che
tuttavia non toglie, che la forza e l'efficacia del patto d'alleanza sia cosi
profondamente sentita, che stipulavasi talvolta che essa dovesse durare eterna
ed im mortale, come lo erano i popoli, fra cui interveniva. Ciò è dimostrato
dall'energica espressione adoperata nel foedus latinum, secondo la quale la
pace e l'alleanza fra romani e latini doveva durare: « dum coelum et terra
eandem stationem obtinuerint.” Infine un'altra importantissima applicazione del
foedus nelle epoche primitive, è quella, in virtù della quale più tribù, che
possono anche essere di origine diversa, societatem ineunt fra di loro, nel
l'intento di formare una stessa civitas e di partecipare così ad una vita
pubblica comune. È stato questo il foedus, che ha servito per la formazione
dell'urbs e della civitas dei latini, e che fu anche il tipo, sovra cui ebbe ad
essere foggiata Roma primitiva; il qual ca rattere è importantissimo, in quanto
che induce ad affermare che Roma nei suoi inizii ebbe un carattere federale e
pressochè con trattuale. Dal momento infatti, che fra le varie tribù mancava il
vincolo della comune discendenza, non poteva esservi che quello della fides, e
quindi è nel foedus, che deve essere cercata l'origine prima dientrare nel
diritto, conviene pur sempre riconoscere che la teoria della sponsio si svolse
prima nei rapporti fra le genti, che non nel diritto civile di Roma. Giu
stamente quindi Gaio voleva tener distinte le due cose: poichè, dalmomento che
la sponsio nei trattati fra i popoli erasi distinta da quella nelle convenzioni
private, non era più il caso di confonderle insieme. Da questa nasceva l'actio
ex stipulatu, mentre dalla violazione di quella nasceva la guerra. I due isti
tuti, che nella origine potevano essere uniti, ora seguono invece ciascuno la
propria via, come la recuperatio e la repetitio rerum, il ius gentium e il ius
belli ac pacis e simili, e più non debbono essere insieme confusi. Dion.] 154
della città. Se la tribù può ancora essere una formazione del tutto naturale,
perchè è l'effetto del primato, che una gente acquista sopra le altre che la
circondano; la città invece suppone di necessità l'accordo delle varie tribù,
che entrano a costituirla, accordo, che riveste appunto la forma di un foedus. Intanto
egli è evidente, che allorquando le cose sono per venute a tale, che
nell'organizzazione gentilizia, in cui prima do minava esclusivamente il
vincolo di discendenza, già comincia a pe netrare l'elemento federale e
contrattuale, questo non può a meno di attribuire all'organizzazione stessa una
elasticità e pieghevolezza, che essa prima non poteva avere. Infatti egli è
sopratutto da questo punto, che nel seno della tribù e della città, costituita
mediante la federazione di varie tribù, cominciano a comparire dei mezzi, i
quali o servono ad aggregare alla comunanza un nuovo elemento, o ser vono
invece a staccarne un elemento, che prima ne faceva parte per trasportarlo
altrove. Fu in questa guisa, che, già anterior mente alla formazione della
comunanza romana, si erano venuti svolgendo gli istituti della cooptatio, della
concessio civitatis sine suffragio, della secessio e della colonia; la cui nozione
è indispen sabile per comprendere la storia primitiva di Roma. In virtù della
cooptatio le genti, che già entrarono a far parte di una medesima comunanza
civile e politica, possono accoglierne delle altre a far parte della medesima.
Essa fu applicata più volte in Roma primitiva; come lo dimostra la cooptazione
delle genti Al bane, dopochè Alba fu, secondo la tradizione, distrutta da Tullo
Ostilio, e fu applicata eziandio alla gente sabina, capitanata da Atto Clauso.Questa
origine federale delle città costituite sul tipo latino pud servire a spiegare
il fatto, per cui i Latini nella loro qualità di socii coi Romani abbiano messa
innanzi la pretesa, che Roma e il Lazio dovessero dare origine ad una comu
nione ed unità di governo; per cui dei consoli uno dovesse essere nominato dal
Lazio e l'altro da Roma, e il senato dovesse comporsi in parti eguali dai due
popoli. Vedi Liv. VIII, 3, 4, 5. Cfr. WALTER, Storia del diritto di Roma, Trad.
Bollati, Torino. È poi questa istituzione, che ci dà la ragione per cui,
durante il periodo di Roma patrizia, la cittadinanza non era conceduta ad in
dividui, ma a genti collettivamente considerate, in quanto che la cooptatio era
per sua natura applicabile all'intiero gruppo gentilizio e non ai singoli
individui (1). Non pud poi esservi dubbio, che questa cooptatio, per essere una
istituzione eminentemente patrizia, doveva certainente essere accom pagnata da
cerimonie religiose; perchè la gente, che era ammessa nella tribù o alla città,
diventava eziandio partecipe della religione di esse, ne aveva comuni gli
auspicia, ed il suo capo poteva anche conseguire un seggio nel senato. Quasi si
direbbe, che la cooptatio di una gente nella tribù o città corrispondeva alla
adrogatio per la famiglia. Quindi si comprende, come al modo stesso che
l'adrogatus, per essere disgiunto dalla gens, di cui faceva parte, doveva prima
addivenire alla detestatio sacrorum; così anche il gentile, per uscire
dall'ordine delle genti patrizie e passare, ad esempio, nella plebe, il che
chiamavasi transitio ad plebem, doveva pure appigliarsi ad una specie di
abdicatio o detestatio sacrorum; alla quale dovette appunto assoggettarsi
Clodio, allorchè abbandono l'ordine patrizio e passò alla plebe per poter
essere nominato tribuno [È poi degno di nota, che questa cooptatio ebbe pure ad
essere applicata ai collegi sacerdotali, finchè i medesimi furono esclusiva
mente tratti dall'ordine patrizio, e fu solo più tardi, allorchè anche la plebe
fu ammessa ai sacerdozii pubblici del popolo romano, che ad alcuni fra essi fu
applicata l'elezione popolare, la quale anzi fini per essere affidata ai comizi
tributi. Quando poi la città cesso di essere esclusivamente patrizia, in allora
noi vediamo svolgersi, qualmodo di accrescere la popola zione, la concessione
della civitas sine suffragio, in virtù della quale gli abitanti di una città
vicina, che venivano a prendere il [Dion., III, 29; Liv., 1, 30. Cfr. Willems,
Le droit public romain; CARLOWA, Römische Rechtsgeschichte. La necessità di una
specie diabdicatio, anche per uscire da una gens, è provata dal seguente passo
di Servio, In Aen. 2, 156: « Consuetudo apud maiores fuit, ut qui in familiam
vel gentem transiret, prius se abdicaret ab ea, in qua fuerat, et sic ab alia
reciperetur ». Quanto alla transitio ad plebem, è da vedersi Cic., Brut., 16, e
Aulo Gellio] nome di municipes (a munere capiendo), recandosi a Roma, erano
ammessi a partecipare ai diritti e alle obbligazioni del cittadino, esclusa
però la partecipazione al godimento dei diritti pubblici, che consistevano nel
ius suffragii e nel ius honorum. Fu con questo mezzo, che Roma incominciò a
mettere le basi di quel sistema mu nicipale, per mezzo del quale tutti gli
abitanti prima delle città del Lazio e poi quelli delle città italiche,
finirono per essere considerati come cittadini di Roma, che era la patria
communis; il che però non impediva, che ogni città avesse una propria
amministrazione municipale. Questo carattere dei municipia, i quali in sostanza
erano città per sè esistenti, che venivano ad essere associate alle sorti di
Roma, fu espresso da Gellio con dire, che imunicipia, a differenza delle
colonie, veniunt extrinsecus in civitatem et radicibus suis nituntur. Ciò però
non tolse, che il concetto del municipium abbia subito poi delle trasformazioni
profonde, le quali sono indicate dalle significazioni diverse, che Festo
attribuisce a questo vocabolo (). i 125. A questi duemezzi, con cui veniva
accrescendosi il numero di coloro, che partecipavano alla stessa civitas, se ne
contrapponevano invece degli altri, che servivano piuttosto a trasportare
altrove una parte della popolazione, sia che ciò occorresse per il vantaggio
della stessa città, come accadeva nella colonia, sia che una parte di essa si
trovasse in condizioni incompatibili col rimanente, nel qual caso si ricorreva
alla secessio e all'expulsio. Non può esservi dubbio, che il sistema delle
colonie, che prese poi cosi largo sviluppo in Roma, esisteva già prima nel
costume delle genti italiche, ed era anzi loro comune colle genti elleniche,
sebbene il suo scopo potesse essere diverso. Ciò è dimostrato dal fatto, che,
secondo la tradizione, la tribù dei Ramnenses non dovette essere dapprima, che
una colonia di Alba Longa. Le colonie poi sono gruppi di famiglie, le quali,
collettivamente considerate, si staccano dalla madre patria, colla approvazione
di quelli che rimangono, la quale si manifesta nella lex coloniae deducendae, e
colla buona volontà di coloro che partono, i quali debbono perciò farsi
iscrivere nel numero dei coloni. Ciò ebbe ad essere espresso da Servio con
dire, che le [I principali passi degli autori, relativi almunicipium e alla
colonia, possono trovarsi raccolti nella eruditissima opera del Rivier,
Introdution historique au droit romain, Bruxelles, la quale contieneun numero
grandissimodi passi di autori e questi raccolti con molta sagacia.] colonie «
ex consensu pubblico, non ex secessione conditae sunt ». Di qui la conseguenza,
che la colonia porta con sé la religione, la lingua, le tradizioni della tribù
o della città, dalla quale si stacca e si organizza a somiglianza di essa, per
guisa che, secondo la efficace espressione di Gellio, le colonie sono quasi
effigies parvae, simula craque della madre patria, e sono quasi propaggini
della città, da cui sonosi staccate, comequelle, che continuano ancor sempre a
mantenersi in rapporti con essa (ex civitate quasi propagatae sunt). Punto non
ripugna, che le colonie nelle loro origini siansi cosi chiamate a colendo; in
quanto che può darsi benissimo, che esse fossero in certo modo delle spedizioni
agricole, che partivano da una tribù, sta bilita sopra un territorio, per
trasportarsi sopra un altro suolo, quando quello prima occupato più non potesse
bastare ai bisogni della intiera popolazione. Però anche in questa parte,
allorchè riuscì a delinearsi l'istituto della colonia, nulla impedi che esso
potesse essere rivolto ad intenti di diversissima natura, marittimi, militari,
commerciali, e che servisse anche a diminuire il numero soverchio della plebe,
quando essa, raccolta nella sola città, già cominciava a cambiarsi in una
factio forensis e a diventare pericolosa. 126. La secessio invece sembra
contrapporsi alla cooptatio, colla differenza che questo vocabolo, in cui non
havvi accenno ad alcun rito religioso, sembra aver trovato origine piuttosto
nei rapporti fra patriziato e plebe, che non in seno all'ordine patrizio. Ad
ogni modo la secessio, intesa in largo senso, ha luogo allorchè un ele mento
già ammesso nella comunanza, trovandosi incompatibile colla medesima, se ne
stacca volontariamente e recasi altrove a porre la propria sede. Lasciando
anche a parte i tentativi di secessio per parte della plebe, i quali non ebbero
mai un esito definitivo, può forse scorgersi un esempio di secessio, ancorchè
dissimulato dalle tradizioni, nel fatto della gens Fabia, che abbandonava Roma
coi suoi numerosi clienti per stabilirsi alla Cremera, ove poi fini per essere distrutta
dai Sanniti, lasciando un solo superstite, che entrò di nuovo a far parte della
cittadinanza romana. Servio, In Aen., I, 12; Gellio. L'importanza delle colonie
nel periodo gentilizio fu già messa in evidenza dal Vico, Scienza nuova. Intorno
alle colonie ed alle varie loro specie, è accurata la trattazione del WALTER,
Storia del Dir. Rom., Trad. Bollati.Quanto alla tradizione circa la gens Fabia,
vedi Bonghi, Storia di Roma. Alla secessio, che è volontaria, si contrappone
invece l'expulsio, quale fu quella, che ebbe ad avverarsi per la gens Tarquinia;
espul sione, che per la intimità del vincolo, che stringe insieme i membri di
una medesima gente, dovette poi essere estesa a tutti coloro che portavano quel
nome, non escluso quel Tarquinio Collatino, marito a LUCREZIA, il cui oltraggio,
secondo la tradizione, e stata occasione allo scoppio di quella rivoluzione
patrizia e plebea ad un tempo, che condusse alla trasformazione del governo
regio in repubblicano. Intanto questi varii istituti, unitamente all'amicitia,
all'hospitium, alla societas e al foedus, che serviva a dar forma giuridica e
so lenne a tutti i rapporti amichevoli fra le varie genti e tribù, avendo in
gran parte avuto origine nel periodo gentilizio, dimostrano abba stanza come la
città, la quale era uscita dalla federazione e dall'accordo, potesse anche
subire dei mutamenti, che si operavano nella stessa guisa. Essa aveva mezzi
diversi per accrescere o scemare il numero di coloro, che partecipavano alla
stessa comunanza. Finchè infatti la città fu esclusivamente patrizia, potevano
bastare la cuoptatio o la expulsio, mediante cui una gente poteva essere ac
colta o respinta dall'ordine patrizio, e cosi entrare od uscire dalla
partecipazione alla stessa comunanza. Quando poi patriziato e plebe si fusero
insieme ed entrarono così a far parte dello stesso esercito e dei
medesimicomizii, in allora si svolgono la secessio da una parte e la concessio
civitatis dall'altra, e quest'ultima potè essere consen tita cum suffragio o
sine suffragio. Infine havvi la colonia che, adoperata prima dalla tribù e
poscia dalla città, serve a questa per trapiantare le sue propaggini altrove;
mentre il municipium viene a convertirsi in un mezzo,me diante cui
popolazioni,che avevano altrove la propria sede ed avevano anzi una propria
amministrazione ed una propria vita, vengono ad es sere ammesse a partecipare
alla vita pubblica della città, senza però essere ammesse agli onori ed al
suffragio. Sarà solo più tardi, allorchè il sistema municipale sarà svolto in
tutte le sue conseguenze, che le città latine prima e le città italiche dappoi,
pur serbando il diritto di partecipare alla amministrazione della loro patria
originaria, otter ranno tuttavia la partecipazione alla piena cittadinanza di
Roma, che comincierà cosi ad essere considerata come la communis patria. Così
viene preparandosi l'organismo della città per guisa, che essa possa essere
capo e centro di qualsiasi vasto impero, e mentre le popolazioni, ammesse alla
cittadinanza romana, avranno ancor esse interesse al mantenimento della
grandezza romana, sarà però sempre in Roma, dove si decideranno le sorti del
mondo e si eleggeranno i magistrati chiamati a governarlo. Solo più ci resta a
vedere, se anche le varie forme, sotto cui ebbe a svolgersi il ius belli, già
aves sero avuto origine nello stesso periodo e come siansi venute formando. In
proposito già si è dimostrato, come non possa ammettersi il concetto, pressoché
universalmente accolto, che la guerra debba essere considerata come lo stato
naturale delle genti italiche. Esse invece si considerano come straniere le une
alle altre e non hanno fra di loro comunione di diritto. Quindi al modo stesso
che occorrono degli accordi, perché si trovino in condizione di amicizia e di
pace; cosi è necessario che intervenga qualche fatto speciale, che le faccia
uscire da questo stato di reciproca indifferenza, accið esse possano essere considerate
come in stato di guerra. Quanto alle cause, che possono far scoppiare una
guerra, esse sono determinate dalle condi zioni sociali, in cui si trovano le
tribù ed i popoli diversi. Appena uscite da uno stato nomade, in cui dovette
dominare la privata vio lenza, le genti si fissarono in territorii, i cui
confini non erano an cora ben determinati, e quindi dovettero essere frequenti
le questioni di confine e le reciproche usurpazioni di territorio. Di più pud
ac cadere, che una comunanza nella sua totalità (populus da populari) o gli
uomini singoli,che appartengono alla medesima (homines Her munduli) abbiano
commesso devastazioni e saccheggi nel territorio della comunanza vicina. Così
pure può avvenire, che una contro versia insorta fra due famiglie, appartenenti
a tribù diverse, ingros sandosi mediante le parentele e le aderenze dell'una e
dell'altra, come avvenne appunto in occasione della cacciata da Roma di
Tarquinio e della sua gente, prenda le proporzioni di una vera e propria guerra.
Siccome poi le varie genti e tribù sono in questo pe [A questo proposito però
fu giustamente notato, che una delle cause della de. cadenza di Roma fu
l'impossibilità, in cui erano le popolazioni delle città italiche di prendere
parte effettiva alla vita politica di Roma,.in cui finiva perciò per pre valere
la turba forensis. Vedi a questo proposito GENTILE, Le elezioni e il broglio
nella Repubblica Romana.] riodo rappresentate dai proprii capi; cosi punto non
ripugna che le sorti della guerra siano anche rimesse ad un combattimento
singolare fra individui, col patto che l'esito della guerra dipenda dalle sorti
di un privato duello. Così pure, è nel carattere del tempo che, quando si
incontrano i due capi, essi vengano fra loro ad un combattimento non dissimile
da quello, che la tradizione attribuisce a Giunio Bruto e ad Arunte, il più
forte fra i figli di Tarquinio, e che la moltitudine dei combattenti si arresti
a contemplare la lotta fra i proprii capi. Niuna maggior gloria potrà
ottenersi, che quando uno dei capi potrà avere le spoglie dell'altro, ed è a
questo concetto certamente che rannodasi il culto, che ancora trovasi così
radicato in Roma, per cui le spoglie opime, che erano quelle appunto che dal
capo di una tribù erano state tolte a quello dell'altra, erano appese nel
tempio di Giove Capitolino, ed i fasti e gli annali ricordavano le volte in cui
rinnovavasi il memorabile fatto. Per quanto questimodi di pensare e diagire
possano riuscire singolari per noi, che siamo giunti a scorgere nella guerra un
rap porto fra due Stati; questo è però certo, che i medesimi trovano una
naturale spiegazione nel fatto, che durante il periodo gentilizio i rap porti
fra le stesse tribù non riescono ancora a distinguersi da quelli fra i capi,
che le rappresentano. Diqui conseguita, che il concetto della guerra fra i
popoli ancora si confonde col duello fra i capi che lo rappresentano; il che è
dimostrato fino all'evidenza dall'origine co mune dei vocaboli duellum e bellum,
come appare dal vocabolo perduellis, che mentre ancora accenna al duellante
significa già il pubblico nemico. Ciò spiega eziandio le traccie, che occor
rono anche in Roma di duello giudiziario, poichè in esso noi abbiamo quel mezzo,
che serve per risolvere le controversie fra i popoli appli [È ovvio osservare
l'analogia,che presentano le primitive guerre di Roma con quelle, che Omero ci
descrive nell'Iliade, ove soventi gli eserciti si arrestano spetta tori delle
gesta dei proprii capi. Quanto alla spiegazione del culto per le spoglie opime
parmi così naturale, che mi meraviglio di non averla trovata negli autori, che da
me furono letti. (2) A questo proposito osserva il BRÉAL, Dict. étym. lat., vº
Duo, che il cambia mento di duellum in bellum è analogo a quello di duonus in
bonus, di Duilius in Bilius, di duis in bis, per guisa che come da duo derivd
duellum, così da bis potè derivare bellum. Del resto il vocabolo di duellum per
bellum occorre ancora sovente nei poeti latini e fra gli altri Plauto chiama i
Romani « duellatores optimi »] cato a risolvere una controversia privata fra
individui; il che in so stanza costituisce il processo inverso di quello, in
cui il duello fra due individui viene ad essere adoperato qual mezzo per
risolvere la guerra fra due popoli, e dipende perciò dal medesimo ordine di
idee, cioè dal sostituirsi dei rapporti pubblici ai privati e viceversa. È
nello stesso modo, che possiamo riuscire a darsi ragione di quella analogia
costante, che non può a meno di essere notata fra le formalità, che
accompagnano la dichiarazione di guerra, e quelle, che accompagnano l'azione
che il capo ili famiglia propone in giudizio. 130. È solo infatti questo modo
di riguardare le cose, fondato sulla realtà dei fatti ed ispirato al modo di
pensare degli uomini e dei tempi, che può condurre a dare una spiegazione del
tutto naturale di quella procedura grandiosa e solenne, che accompagna appunto
la dichiarazione di guerra. Per quanto tale procedura, tras portata dallo
spirito conservatore dei Romani in un'epoca diversa da quella in cui erasi
formata, possa apparire artificiosa e siasi talvolta considerata come un complesso
di formalità esteriori, archi tettato per celare l'ingiustizia e la prepotenza
di un grande popolo; questo è però certo, che essa, ricondotta col pensiero
all'ambiente in cui ebbe a formarsi, viene ad essere l'immagine di modi di pen
sare e di agire veri e reali, che intanto poterono essere espressi in modo così
vigoroso ed efficace, in quanto furono a quell'epoca profondamente sentiti. Questo
intanto è fuori di ogni dubbio, che i varii stadii del dramma corrispondono
mirabilmente alla realtà dei fatti, quali dovet tero svolgersi in un'epoca
patriarcale. Una popolazione vicina o uomini appartenenti alla medesima in
vasero il territorio della comunanza, saccheggiandone i raccolti ed (1) Le
formole grandiose del ius fociale ci furono conservate sopratutto da Livio, nel
libro primo delle sue storie, ove descrive il processo per la dichiarazione di
guerra al cap. 32; quello per la conclusione di un'alleanza al cap. 24; e
quello per la deditio al cap. 38. Come è notabile la solennità di esse, così è
degna di attenzione la coerenza che esiste fra queste varie procedure, le quali
perciò appari scono come lo svolgimento di un medesimo concetto. Quanto alle
divergenze circa la loro interpretazione e ai tentativi di ricostruzione di
formole, che a parer mio appariscono del tutto complete, mi rimetto all'opera
del FusinaTO, I Feziali ed il diritto feziale. G. CARLE, Le origini del diritto
di Roma. [esportandone mandre ed armenti. La comunanza ne è profonda mente
commossa, e il capo di essa, che è pur sempre il padre co mune di tutti,
accompagnato da altri capi di famiglia, recasi in persona sul confine del
territorio, che appartiene al popolo unde res repetuntur; quivi, chiamando in
testimonio le divinità patrone della sua comunanza, quella che protegge il
confine e il fas, protettore comune ditutte le genti, espone l'ingiuria e il
danno sofferto, e questo ripete a chiunque incontri per la via, e da ultimo
sulla piazza del villaggio, spergiurandosi di dire il vero. Questa parte
preliminare chiamasi clarigatio, da questo dichiarare ad alta voce e ripetuta
mente il torto sofferto, e repetitio rerum, dal chiedere la restituzione delmal
tolto. Se le cose, che eglidomanda, sono restituite, egli ritorna con esse, e
cogli uomini, che hanno compiuto il saccheggio, che gli sono consegnati,
mediante la noxae deditio; ma se egli non ottiene soddisfazione, ha luogo
l'obtestatio deorum, con cui chiede in testi monio le divinità del suo popolo e
tutti gli altri Dei, che il popolo, di cui si tratta, è ingiusto e vienemeno al
diritto (populum illum iniustum esse, neque ius persolvere). Viene infine
l'ultima parte della dichiarazione di guerra, in cui il capo del popolo offeso,
dopo essersi consultato coi suoi, dichiara al popolo offensore la guerra, get
tando entro i confini del suo territorio un dardo intriso di sangue
accompagnato dalle parole: « bellum indico facioque », e si ha così in un solo
atto l'indictio belli e l'initium pugnae. È fuori di ogni dubbio, che questa procedura,
eminentemente patriarcale, dovette assumere alcun che di artificioso per essere
adat tata ad un popolo, come il romano: poichè il medesimo aveva una co
stituzione politica molto complicata, in base alla quale i feziali, che si
erano recati per la rerum repetitio, dovevano poi tornare per avere l'avviso
dei padri, e forse anche la deliberazione del popolo intorno alla guerra, che
trattavasi di fare; ma questo è certo, che anche così trasformata essa non
perde le sue primitive fattezze. Tolgasi il pater patratus, che, anche essendo
una finzione, richiama pur sempre l'im poneute figura del patriarca primitivo;
tolgansi i feziali, che erano sacerdoti, i quali, al pari di ogni altro
collegio sacerdotale del popolo románo, avevano solo per compito di custodire
le tradizioni, relative al diritto di guerra e di pace, senza avere alcuna
competenza intorno alla giustizia intrinseca della causa, per cui si addiveniva
alla guerra o all'alleanza; e non si potrà a meno di riconoscere, che tanto la
repetitio rerum, accompagnata dalla clarigatio, quanto l'obtestatio deorum,
quanto infine l'indictio belli, sono altrettante procedure, che serbano il
colore e il carattere di un età patriarcale e richiamano scene vive e reali,
che dovettero seguire in quella primitiva condi zione di cose. Ciò però non
toglie, che le procedure del diritto fe ziale, al pari delle antiche procedure
dell'actio sacramento e simili, allorchè furono trapiantate nel seno di un
organizzazione sociale di altra indole e natura, affidate alla custodia di un
collegio sacerdotale, rese complicate dei varii congegni di una costituzione
politica, che più non consentiva un perfetto adattamento delle medesime, assun
sero di necessità un carattere alquanto artificioso, e apparvero come forme,
vuote di contenuto e conservate solo per imitazione dell'an tico, da un popolo,
che in sostanza si era già spogliato di ogni ca rattere patriarcale, ed era
venuto nel proposito tenace di conquistare e di sottomettere le altre genti. Il
diritto feziale tuttavia rimane an cora sempre ad attestare, che in un'epoca
remotissima dovette già essere conosciuto un tentativo di amichevole
accomodamento nelle controversie, non solo fra i privati, ma anche fra le varie
genti. Era pero naturale, che questa sopravvivenza dell'epoca patriarcale fosse
destinata a scomparire, a misura che diventava più difficile di pene trarne
l'intima significazione. Tuttavia, anche in questa parte, appare sempre lo
spirito conservatore del popolo romano, che continuò a conservare e a tenere in
onore l'istituto dei feziali, anche allorchè il diritto, di cui essi erano i
depositarii ed i custodi, era andato compiutamente in disuso. Intanto non pud
essere negata eziandio una certa analogia fra questa procedura e quella, che
abbiamo visto svolgersi nell'actio sacramento. Siccome però queste procedure
non sono invenzioni di pontefici e di giureconsulti, come alcuni le avrebbero
ritenute, ma sono forme tipiche di fatti, che un tempo dovettero seguire nella
realtà: cosi, per essere il processo effettivo veramente diverso nel venire al
duello od alla guerra fra due popoli, e nel sorgere di una controversia fra due
privati, ne derivò, che le due procedure non poterono essere perfettamente
conformi, comevorrebbe sostenere il Danz, ma dovettero di necessità riuscire
diverse. Nell'actio sa cramento noi abbiamo la storia di una controversia fra
due capi di famiglia, i quali, stando già per venire alle mani, piuttosto che
ab bandonarsi alla forza ed alla violenza, accettano l'interposizione di una
persona autorevole, scommettendo di essere dalla parte della ragione e
chiamando lui a giudice della scommessa. Fra due genti 164 invece non può
esservi altro giudice che la divinità, e quindi, dopo aver reclamato il mal
tolto, è questa, che chiamasi in testimonianza del l'ingiustizia, che quel
popolo ha commessa, e a nomedella medesima divinità gli si dichiara la guerra «
extremum remedium expedien darum litium ». Quello è il processo, che si è
seguito per strappare i contendenti alla privata violenza e per indurli ad
accettare l'au torità di un arbitro o di un giudice: questo è il processo, che
deve seguirsi prima di cedere alla triste necessità della guerra. Che poi vi
fossero buone ragioni, perchè una procedura solenne precedesse una
dichiarazione di guerra, appare dalle dure conseguenze, che il consenso delle
genti aveva attribuito al diritto di guerra. Questa nel periodo gentilizio era
un vero duello fra due popoli, che non doveva cessare, finchè uno non avesse
portato nel proprio tempio le spoglie opime dell'altro. Era guerra di uomini e
guerra anche fra gli Dei dei due popoli, come lo provano le for mole che ci
furono conservate, con cui quel popolo, che faceva delle stipulazioni e dei
contratti « do utdes » anche cogli Dei, cercava di attirare a se il favore
delle divinità del popolo, con cui era in guerra. Una volta poi, che questa era
intrapresa ben potevasi dire, che la guerra diventava lo stato naturale dei due
popoli; perchè se si tol gono le tregue (induciae), o per seppellire imorti o a
causa della cattiva stagione, la guerra si continuava finché non si veniva ad
un trattato di pace, o non si avverasse la dedizione di uno dei popoli in
guerra. La deditio era per un popolo ciò, che per un privato il darsi a [È
mirabile lo sforzo di sottigliezza fatto dal dotto e compianto Danz, prof. a
Iena, per trovare una identità, che non esiste. I suoi ragionamenti sono
riportati dal Fusinato nell'opera più volte citata. Intanto tutto questo sforzo
di acutezza è ancor esso una conseguenza dell'aver ritenuto il diritto
primitivo di Roma, e quindi anche il diritto feziale, come una costruzione
essenzialmente formale e non basata sulla realtà dei fatti. Se invece si
ritenga, che tutto il diritto primitivo di Roma dovette in altri tempi essere
up complesso di reali ed effettive procedure, non si potrà certo pretendere che
l'actio sacramento e l'indictio belli, avendo com piuto un ufficio diverso,
potessero essere pienamente identiche fra di loro. Quanto alle loro analogie
esse sono facilmente spiegate, stante l'indistinzione fra il diritto pubblico e
privato,durante il periodo gentilizio. Queste formole ci furono conservate da
MACROBIO, Saturn., il quale dice di averle ricavate da un libro antichissimo di
un certo Furio (cuius dam Furii), che l'HUScake ritiene possa essere un A.
Furio Anziate, scrittore di diritto sacro e di annali in versi. Esse sono
riportate dall' HUSCHKE, Iurisp. an teiust. quae sup., pag. 11. - 165 mancipio,
cioè un perdere famiglia, patria, territorio, religione, libertà e non avere
altra speranza, che quella della clemenza del vincitore. Erano le sue divinità,
che l'avevano abbandonato, e a lui non rimaneva, che di accettare rassegnato la
propria sorte, entrando in quella classe dei vinti, che formava un eterno
dualismo con quella dei vincitori. Che anzi i Romani applicavano anche a se
stessi quel medesimo diritto di guerra, e fu soltanto colla fin zione del
diritto di postliminio, che riuscirono ad attribuire effi cacia ad atti, che il
cittadino romano aveva compiuto, mentre era prigioniero di guerra, e a fare
astrazione dal tempo, che egli aveva trascorso in tale qualità presso il nemico.
Sono queste dure conseguenze del diritto di guerra, che spiegano quanto dovesse
essere profondo il solco, che erasi venuto scavando fra la classe dei vincitori
e quella dei vinti, e come fra essi non potesse esservi, nè comunione di
matrimonii, nè di reli gione, salvo dopo una lunga convivenza nei quadri
dell'organizza zione gentilizia, in cui i vinti formarono la classe dei servi,
dei clienti e per ultimo quella dei plebei, mentre i vincitori costituirono
quella dei padri, dei patroni e dei patrizi. Intanto di tutto questo periodo,
in cui le genti italiche vennero elaborando la religione, il diritto, la
famiglia, le istituzioni, il co stume, non un solo nome proprio è sopravvissuto:
dei veri grandi uomini, dei veri fondatori di una convivenza sociale non si
conosce nè la patria, nè il nome, nè l'epoca precisa, in cui siano vissuti; ma
se la memoria degli uomini è perita, sopravvissero perd le isti tuzioni e tutti
i concetti fondamentali, che costituirono poi la base della futura grandezza di
questi popoli. Fin qui del patriziato e delle sue istituzioni, di cui dovette
essere lungo il discorso, perchè era lungo il suo passato; ora importa stu
diare le condizioni della plebe, la quale se non ha per sè il passato, dovrà
perd avere una gran parte nell'avvenire della città. La formola della
deditio ci fa conservata da Livio, I, 38. È notabile: che in essa intervengono
anche i Feziali; che si domanda se il popolo che fa la deditio è in sua
potestate (il che prova che un popolo, al pari di una persona, poteva essere
sotto la potestà di un altro); e che è serbata affatto la forma contrattuale
della stipu lazione: « Deditisne vos populum Conlatinum, urbem, agros, aquam,
terminos, de « lubra, utensilia, divinaque humanaque omnia, in meam populique
romani ditio « nem? – Dedimus. At ego recipio ». Le cose premesse intorno
all'organizzazione ed alle istituzioni proprie delle genti patrizie ci pongono
finalmente in condizione di prendere in esame la questione della origine della
plebe e della sua posizione giuridica di fronte al patriziato negli inizii
della comu nanza romana. La genesi di questo elemento, che, poco importante
dapprima, fini per esercitare tanta influenza sull'avvenire della città, è
certo il più importante problema della storia primitiva di Roma, e quindi si
comprende che gli autori tutti siansi travagliati intorno al medesimo ed
abbiano anche proposto opinioni compiutamente di verse (1). Sonovi alcuni, fra
i quali il Lange, che vorrebbero rannodare l'origine della plebe alla caduta di
Alba e alla conquista di altre città latine, la cui popolazione sotto Anco
Marzio sarebbe stata tras portata a Roma. Certo un tale avvenimento non potè a
meno di avere grande importanza per accrescere il numero ed assicurare
l'avvenire della plebe romana; ma egli è impossibile riconoscere in questo
fatto l'origine primitiva della plebe, dappoichè, secondo la tradizione, la
medesima sarebbe già esistita all'epoca della prima fondazione di Roma;
cosicchèRomolo prima e Numa dappoi già avreb bero preso dei provvedimenti per
l'ordinamento di essa.L'enumerazione delle varie opinioni circa l'origine della
plebe colla indicazione degli autori, che le professano, può vedersi nel
Willems, Le droit public romain, pag. 31, e nel Bouchè-LECLERCQ, Manuel des
institutions romaines, pag. 11, né 3; come pure nell'opera, ancora in corso di
pubblicazione, del prof. LANDO LANDUCCI, col titolo: Storia del diritto romano
dalle origini fino a Giustiniano. Corso scola stico. Padova, 1886, pag. 274;
opera che,mentre nel testo offre riassunti i risultati, a cui son pervenuti gli
studii sulla storia del diritto romano, nelle note porge no tizia agli studiosi
della ricchissima letteratura sull'argomento. (2) Il Lange, Histoire intérieure
de Rome, I, pag. 56 e segg., tratta largamente la questione e considera la
plebe primitiva di Roma, come una moltitudine di pe regrini dediticii, il cui
nucleo più importante sarebbe uscito dalle città latine. A suo avviso, essa è
dapprima affatto estranea al popolo delle curie, la quale opinione è pure
seguita dal KarlowA, Römisches Rechtsgeschichte] Non può parimenti ammettersi
col Vico, che la plebe fosse origina riamente costituita da clienti ammutinati
contro l'ordine dei padri, in quanto che, durante il periodo regio, la plebe
non trovasi an cora in condizioni tali da impegnare la lotta col patriziato;
lotta che, sebbene siasi forse iniziata al tempo dei re, cominciò solo ad
essere argomento di racconto e di storia col periodo repubblicano. A ciò si
aggiunge, che anche durante la lotta i clienti ed i plebei appariscono in
opposizione fra di loro, comeappare dai richiamidella plebe contro la clientela,
che costituiva la forza maggiore dell'or dine patrizio. Tuttavia questo fatto,
che condusse taluni a con siderare la plebe e la clientela, come due termini
inconciliabili ed opposti fra di loro, non ha impedito, che più tardi sianvi
state delle famiglie, che originariamente erano in condizione di clienti, e che
poi il quale considera anzi la plebe comeuna popolazione residente fuori della cerchia
della Roma primitiva, e nota che il Celio, l’Appio e il Cispio, secondo una
osservazione stata fatta di recente, hanno un nome identico a quello proprio di
genti plebee. Anche il Voigt, Die XII Tafeln, I, pag. 258, viene alla
conclusione che i plebei non solo non partecipassero alle curie; ma che essi
costituissero una corporazione distinta, la quale, dopo l'istituzione del
tribunato della plebe, si sarebbe organizzata nei comitia tributa. La
corporazione esercitava sui suoi membri un potere di coerci zione, ne quid ex
publica lege corrumpent. Il suo magistrato era il tribunus plebis; al modo
stesso che i suoi giudici non sarebbero stati dapprima i centumviri, ma i
decemviri, che sarebbero stati tratti dalla plebe. È quindi questa l'opinione,
che contrappone più apertamente il populus e la plebes, e ci fa assistere alla
lenta fu sione dei due elementi, anche dopo che entrarono a formare parte della
stessa comu. nanza. Questo è certo, e cid apparirà meglio a suo tempo, che
quella singolare isti tuzione del tribunato della plebe, che non riesce mai ad
inquadrarsi perfettamente nella costituzione politica di Roma, dimostra
abbastanza, che se colla legislazione decemvirale i due ordini cominciarono ad
essere governati da un comune diritto; essi continuarono però ancora per lungo
tempo a costituire due classi sociali com piutamente distinte, e recarono un
contributo molto diverso sia nello svolgimento della costituzione politica, che
in quello del diritto privato di Roma. Cfr. al riguardo PADELLETTI, Storia del
diritto romano, pag. 19, e la nota del prof. Cogliolo, in cui pare che
l'annotatore si scosti dall' opinione certamente troppo recisa del Padel LETTI,
il quale sostiene che patriziato e plebe siano stati, fin dalle origini,
ammessi a far parte della assemblea delle curie. Il luogo, in cui il V100
svolge più chiaramente questo suo concetto, è nella prima Scienza nuova, lib.
II, Cap. XXXII, dove scrive: « che le prime repubbliche sorsero dagli
ammutinamenti dei clienti, attediati sempre di coltivare i campi per li
signori, dai quali essendo fino all'anima malmenati, gli si rivoltarono contro;
e dai clienti così uniti sorsero le prime plebi; onde, per resister loro,
furono i nobili dalla natura portati a stringersi in ordini »: Di qui appare,
che anche il Vico fa rimontare l'origine della plebe ad epoca anteriore alla
formazione della città. 168 recarono un contributo potente alla plebe nella sua
lotta col patri ziato; donde si può argomentare, che anche nella plebe
primitiva possono essere entrati degli antichi clienti, che per circostanze di
varia natura erano stati prosciolti dal vincolo della clientela. Cosi stando le
cose, ha molto del verosimile l'opinione del Mommsen, che in qualche parte si
accosta a quella del Vico, secondo cui il nucleo primitivo della comunanza
plebea si sarebbe venuto formando per mezzo di clienti, che di fatto si
trovavano svincolati dal loro patrono per l'estinzione della gente, da cui essi
dipendevano (1). Se non che si presenta ovvia l'osservazione, che quando questo
fosse stato il solo mezzo per costituire la plebe, la medesima diffi cilmente
avrebbe potuto, fin dal periodo regio, prendere così grandi proporzioni da
imporsi al patriziato e farsi accogliere nella città. Quindi è, che l'opinione
del Mommsen trova forse un opportuno compimento nella teoria del Niebhur, il
quale, tenuto conto del modo, in cui le comunanze plebee si erano formate in
condizioni sto riche analoghe a quelle in cui trovavansi i primitivi
stabilimenti delle genti patrizie, venne a considerare come una legge storica
costante, quella per cui accanto ad uno stabilimento di casate pa trizie,
chiuso e fortificato in sè stesso, formasi naturalmente una specie di comunanza
plebea; la quale, senza partecipare dapprima agli onori, ai suffragi, e ai
matrimonii della città patrizia, pud tut tavia giungere ad una certa
indipendenza dalla medesima, mediante il possesso e la coltura delle terre, e
mediante l'esercizio dei mestieri e delle professioni diverse (2 ). Tuttavia
anche l'opinione del Niebhur (1) MOMMSEN, Histoire romaine, I, Chap. V, pag.
103 e segg. Questa opinione fu poiadottata dal WILLEMS, Le Sénat de la
République Romaine,Paris, 1878, pag. 15. (2) Ritengo che anche oggi il Niebhur
sia l'autore, che è pervenuto a studiare con vedute più larghe l'origine della
plebe. Di regola esso è annoverato fra coloro, i quali ritengono che la plebe
sia stata composta delle popolazioni vicine a Roma, state dalle medesima
sottomessa. Tale è, ad esempio, l'opinione, che gli è attribuita dal WILLEMS
dal Bouchè-LECLERCQ, op. e loc. cit. La lettura invece del capitolo intitolato:
« La commune et les tribus plébéiennes » della Histoire romaine, mi ha convinto
che il NIEBHUR si è fatta una idea più larga della questione. Le conquiste,
secondo lui, hanno bensì contribuito ad accrescere e a trasformare la plebe
romana, sopratutto coll'incorporazione delle popolazioni latine; ma intanto
essa già preesisteva nelle stesse tribù primitive, costituiva una specie di
vera comunanza separata e distinta dal patriziato, composta mediante
l'ammessione di cives sine suffragio, e di clienti rimasti senza patrono (op. e
loc. cit., pag. 149). Tuttavia misia pur lecito di constatare, che l'autore, il
quale ha meglio compreso quel carattere 169 lascia ancor sempre senza
spiegazione quello stato di inferiorità e di abbiezione, pressochè servile, in
cui una parte almeno della plebe trovasi di fronte al patriziato negli inizii
di Roma; cose tutte, che non si comprenderebbero quando si trattasse di
possessori e di cul tori di terre, che fossero stati sempre indipendenti dal
patriziato. 137. Tutte queste considerazioni mi confermano nell'opinione già
altrove manifestata, che il fenomeno della formazione primitiva della plebe
debba cercarsi nella sovrapposizione delle genti italiche di origine aria sovra
altre razze già preesistenti. In quel periodo di privata violenza, che non
dovette essere dissimile da quello, che ebbe poi ad avverarsi, allorchè le
razze germaniche invasero l'Impero, gli elementi in urto ed in lotta fra di
loro dovettero dividersi in due classi, cioè, in quella dei vincitori e in
quella dei vinti; in quella di coloro, che erano tenuti compatti dalla potente
organizzazione genti lizia, e in quella di coloro, che non erano ancora cosi
progrediti nella loro organizzazione domestica e sociale. Quelli costituirono
la classe dominante dei padri, dei patroni, dei patrizii e si vennero sempre
più fortificando nella loro ferrea organizzazione gentilizia, e tentarono di
fare entrare nei quadri della medesima anche la classe dei vinti, ponendola
nella condizione subordinata di servi e di clienti. È in quest'epoca di lotta e
di conflitto, che è mestieri di cercare l'o rigine prima di quella distinzione
di classi, che si trova agli inizii della comunanza romana; al modo stesso, che
è nell'epoca feudale, che deve essere cercata l'origine di quelle distinzioni
di classi, le cui traccie simantennero a lungo dappoi, e la cui lotta diede
eziandio origine al movimento democratico odierno. Per trovare quindi la prima
origine della distinzione converrebbe poter scomporre le po polazioni italiche
primitive, conoscere le stirpi diverse da cui esse provennero, e determinare la
posizione, in cui i vinti ebbero a tro varsi di fronte alla potente
organizzazione dei vincitori; problemi tutti, per la cui risoluzione ci mancano
per ora gli elementi necessarii. particolare della città antica, per cui essa
suppone il concorso di due elementi, di cui l'ano superiore e l'altro
inferiore, le cui lotte danno vita e movimento alla città, è certamente il
nostro Vico. La città patrizia non è ancora che un ordine e una cor porazione
di padri; mentre è la città patrizio-plebea, che ci porge lo spettacolo della
lotta tra quelli, che intendono sopratutto a conservare l'antico ordine di cose,
e quelli che abbisognano di innovare per migliorare la condizione presente. 170
138. Forse tali indagini potrebbero anche condurre al risultato, che fra le
varie comunanze di villaggio ve ne erano di quelle dedite alle armi ed
organizzate per genti e che come tali appartenevano al patriziato e
costituivano una specie di aristocrazia territoriale;mentre poi ve ne erano
delle altre, prive di tradizioni, dedite soltanto al lavoro dei campi e
all'esercizio delle professioni e dei mestieri di versi (quale sembra essere
stato ad esempio il vicus Tuscus), che costituivano delle comunanze plebee.
Quest' ultime naturalmente dovevano trovarsi in una specie di dipendenza e
pressochè di vas sallaggio, rimpetto alle prime; il che potrebbe spiegare in
certi con fini quei forcti ac sanates, di cui ci parla Festo, che comprende
vano le popolazioni superiori ed inferiori a Roma e trovavansi in dipendenza
rimpetto alla medesima, la quale tuttavia già accomunava ad essi una parte del
proprio diritto, cioè il ius nexi manci piique (1). Tuttavia, se ciò può esser
vero delle plebi rurali, questo si può affermare con certezza, che certamente
un buon dato della plebe primitiva e sopratutto della plebe urbana di Roma ebbe
ad uscire dalla classe, che trovavasi in condizione inferiore nell'orga
nizzazione gentilizia. Cid soltanto può spiegare la superiorità incon trastata
del patriziato e l'abbiezione pressochè servile di una parte della plebe, che
tradisce ancora quel sentimento di rispetto e di paura, che ha il servo
affrancato per il suo antico padrone (2 ). (1) La questione intorno alla
condizione dei forcti ac sanates è una delle più difficili, che presenti la
storia primitiva di Roma, per la povertà ed anche la muti lazione dei passi
degli autori, che vi si riferiscono (V. Festo, vº Sanates, quale è riportato
nel Bruns, Fontes, pag. 364, nella Va edizione, pubblicatasi in quest'anno dal
Mommsen). Io credo tuttavia, che la medesima, dandoci un concetto del tratta
mento giuridico, che i Romani usavano colle popolazioni circostanti a Roma,
possa porgerci dei dati preziosi per argomentare quale fosse la condizione
della plebe, du rante il periodo esclusivamente patrizio. Rimetto quindi
l'esame della questione al Capitolo I di questo stesso libro. (2) Ecco quindi
la conclusione, a cui parmi di poter venire. Nella plebe primitiva di Roma
voglionsi distinguere due correnti: una uscita dalla stessa organizzazione
gentilizia forma il primo nucleo di una popolazione, che ha sede contigua allo
stabili mento patrizio, ma non è più compresa nei quadri del medesimo; l'altra
invece, per conquiste o per immigrazione, viene ad incorporarsi in questo
nucleo primitivo, e l'accresce per modo da richiamare l'attenzione sopra di
esso. Questi due elementi appariscono accennati dalla tradizione stessa intorno
alla plebe primitiva, poichè altra è la plebe, che già appartiene alle varie
tribù, e che viene ancora ad essere col locata sotto la clientela dei padri, ed
altra è la plebe, che la tradizione dice rac -- - 171 - 139. La formazione poi
di questa plebe dovette cominciare, allorchè i vincoli dell'organizzazione
gentilizia già cominciavano a rallentarsi. Ciò accadde quando alla gente, che
era ancora stretta insieme dal vincolo della discendenza, cominciò a
sovrapporsi la tribù; la quale comprendendo elementi, che potevano essere di
origine diversa, fini per non riuscire sempre a chiudere nei suoi quadri,
consacrati dalla religione, tutti gli elementi, che si venivano affollando
intorno alla medesima. Cominciò cosi a formarsi al di fuori dell'organizza
zione gentilizia, che era l'unica riconosciuta dalle genti patrizie, una
moltitudine ed una folla, il cui primo nucleo può essere uscito dal seno stesso
della medesima, ed essere anche costituito da clienti rimasti senza patrono; al
modo stesso, che le comunanze popolari del medio Evo erano in parte costituite
da famiglie, che un tempo erano vassalle del feudatario. Siccome però
nell'epoche primitive ciò che è più difficile è il creare l'elemento novello,
mentre il mede simo, una volta formato, può poi accrescersi in varie guise ed
acco. gliere tutti coloro, che, per questa o quella considerazione, si trovano
spostati nell'anteriore organizzazione: cosi questo primo nucleo, dopo essersi
staccato dalla stessa organizzazione gentilizia, venne richia mando e quasi
attraendo a sè rifugiati di altre comunanze; servi fuggitivi; immigranti, che
non amavano di porsi sotto la protezione del patriziato, o che, per motivi
religiosi o di altra natura, non erano ammessi alla medesima; popolazioni di
vinti, che perdevano territorio, religione e famiglia; abitatori di vici, che
si erano dati all'esercizio dei mestieri e delle professioni diverse; cultori
di terre, che di fatto si erano stabiliti sul territorio situato nelle
circostanze dello stabilimento patrizio; popolazioni stabilite superiormente od
inferiormente a Roma, a cui per necessità di commercio si dovette dapprima
accordare quel ius nexi mancipiique, di cui parlano le dodici Tavole, quanto ai
forcti ac sanates. Ciò spiegherebbe anche come queste popolazioni, il cui nome
era diventato inesplicabile per gli stessi antiquarii romani, abbiano col tempo
perduta la loro an tica denominazione, in quanto che, a misura che estendevasi
la do minazione romana, tutte queste popolazioni vennero ad essere com prese
nella plebe, e non fu cosi più il caso di attribuire ad esse una colta mediante
l'asilo offerto da Romolo. È parlando di questo asilo, che Livio, I, 8, ebbe a
scrivere: « E. (asylo) ex finitimis populis, turba omnis, sine discrimine liber
seu servus esset, avida novarum rerum, perfugit; idque ad caeptam magnitu dinem
roboris fuit ». 172 speciale posizione giuridica. Per tal guisa il nucleo primitivo
si venne ingrossando, e quando le genti patrizie volgero lo sguardo at torno a
sè videro in esso una plebs, che nel significato primitivo suona moltitudine o
folla. Il nome pertanto, che le fu dato, corrisponde alla impressione, che
questa folla deve aver fatto sopra una classe di uomini, che non conosceva
altra organizzazione fuorchè la gentilizia. Le genti infatti non potevano
scorgere in essa dapprima, che ceti di uomini riuniti in una guisa, che per
esse non aveva quel carattere religioso e sacro, che avevano tutte le loro
istituzioni. Non potevano infatti chiamarla un populus, perchè non era nè
divisa in curie, nè aveva consiglio di anziani, nè aveva un magistrato, che la
diri gesse, nè era insomma un « coetus hominum iuris consensu et uti. litatis
comunione sociatus », e quindi la chiamarono plebes. Di qui il dualismo fra
populus et plebes, che trovasi in alcune formule arcaiche; dualismo, che per
essere l'effetto di cause naturali viene a presentarsi non solo in Roma, ma in
tutte le comunanze delle genti italiche. Di queste tuttavia, se ne hanno di
quelle, in cui quest'elemento è tenuto in umile stato, come sarebbero le città
etrusche, ed altre invece, in cui esso già ottiene qualche concessione, quali
sarebbero appunto le città latine. Il primo senso del patriziato per
quest'elemento novello, che prendeva ad esistere fuori dei quadri della propria
gerarchia, dovette essere di un disprezzo non dissimile da quello, che più
tardi i patrizii manifestarono per quei concilia plebis, che pur dovevano trasformarsi
nei comizii tributi; ma al lorchè il numero di questa plebe venne facendosi
sempre più grande, si comprende come questo elemento dovesse di necessità
essere te nuto in conto, sopratutto in una comunanza di carattere belligero,
quale era la romana. 140. Narra infatti la tradizione, per bocca almeno di
Dionisio e di Cicerone, che il fondatore della città avrebbe collocata la plebe
nella clientela del patriziato, e incaricato i padri di farle assegnidi terre,
a titolo di precario, non dissimili da quelli, che essi facevano ai clienti. In
verità per una città eminentemente patrizia, come era Roma primitiva, il
miglior modo per organizzare la folla, che aveva seguito l'esercito del
fondatore o che erasi accalcata intorno allo stabilimento da essa fondato, era
quello di farla entrare nella ge rarchia dell'organizzazione gentilizia. Fin
qui pertanto la plebe non è ancora veramente tale, ma è costretta ancora nei
quadri della clientela. Pero a misura che la fortuna nascente di Roma od 173
anche l'apertura stessa di un asilo ai rifugiati e agli esuli dalle altre città
(questo vetus urbis condentium consilium, che non è poi cosi improbabile, come
ebbe a farlo la critica storica ) cominciarono a richia mare nei dintorni della
città una quantità di individui e di capi di famiglia di provenienza diversa;
anche la clientela venne ad essere insufficiente per comprendere nei proprii
ranghi questa folla di uo mini, di cui una parte potè forse essere di origine
ellenica ed etrusca, ed avere tradizioni e credenze diverse da quelle dai
fondatori della città. Era stata la lunga coabitazione come servi e famuli
nella famiglia, che nell'anteriore organizzazione gentilizia aveva servito a
preparare la clientela delle genti patrizie. Questa preparazione invece mancava
nel nuovo elemento, che accorreva nei dintorni di Roma; per tal modo l'antica
istituzione religiosa ed ereditaria della clientela venne ad essere inadeguata
e disacconcia al bisogno ed inetta a dare un'organizzazione al nuovo elemento.
Quasi si direbbe che, collo svolgersi della città, l'antica forma, sovra cui si
era modellata l'anteriore organizzazione sociale, che colla tribù già erasi
alquanto sgretolata, venne a rompersi affatto. Quindi mentre tutto prima era
compreso nella gerarchia gentilizia, colla città in vece comincia a farsi
palese e a colpire lo sguardo questo ele mento novello, che guadagna e richiama
a sè tutto ciò, che sfugge all'antica organizzazione. Dapprima il fatto dovette
colpire l'ordine stesso dei padri, e loro parve strano di dover riconoscere,
che l'or ganizzazione gentilizia più non potesse bastare ad ogni emergenza. Ma
col tempo fu necessità arrendersi all' evidenza, e l'elemento nuovo non poteva
essere trascurato per una comunanza come la Romana di carattere eminentemente
belligero, e che abbisognava perciò di un contingente sempre nuovo per riempire
le file del proprio esercito. Sopratutto il nuovo elemento doveva apparire im
portante per il re, il quale da una parte poteva trovare in esso un sussidio
potente per la formazione dell'esercito, e dall'altra, as sumendo la qualità di
patrono non dei singoli plebei, ma dell'in tiera classe, poteva anche trovare
in essa un appoggio per bilanciare la soverchia influenza dei padri. Questi
infatti, memori, che il re era il loro eletto ed il rappresentante, a cui
avevano affidato i proprii auspicia, lo volevano naturalmente ligio ai proprii
interessi e mira vano a valersi di esso per trasportare anche nella città
l'organiz zazione per genti e per tribù, per quanto la medesima male si accon
ciasse alla nuova condizione. Gli è
questo il motivo, per cui noi vediamo, secondo la tra dizione, prendersi dai
re, che vengono dopo, una serie di provve dimenti nell'intento di organizzare
la plebe. Mentre Romolo, dopo avere, secondo Dionisio, affidato alla plebe la
coltura delle terre e l'esercizio delle arti manuali, si limita a porla sotto
la clientela dei padri, e si vale cosi di un istituto vecchio per comprendere
un ele mento nuovo (1), Numa invece già prende quanto alla plebe due
importantissimi provvedimenti. Il primo è quello di distribuire direttamente ai
più poveri, che sono appunto quei tenuiores, di cui parla Festo, e che appartengono
alla plebe, l'ager conquistato da Romolo, e che era venuto ad ac crescere
l'ager publicus; il quale provvedimento produsse l'effetto, che la plebe da
questo momento, almeno in parte, cesso di essere sotto il patronato dei patres.
Però siccome i cambiamenti sono e devono essere lenti; cosi al patronato dei
patres sembra sottentrare una specie di patronato del re, il quale fa alla
plebe quegli assegni di terre, che dapprima erano affidati ai patres (2). Forse
può darsi che dapprima questi assegni di terre, fatti dal re alla plebe
sull'ager publicus, fossero soltanto a titolo di semplice precario, come quelli
che erano fatti dai patres ai clienti sull'ager gentilicius; ma in tanto è già
un passo importante per la plebe quello di non dipen dere più direttamente dai
capi delle genti, ma di essere sotto il patronato o almeno sotto la protezione
diretta del re, custode e ma gistrato della città. L'altro provvedimento,
ricordato da Plutarco, e che egli dice essere stato altamente lodato, fu quello
per cui Numa avrebbe di (1) Dion., 2, 9: « Romulus postquam potiores ab
inferioribus secrevit;mox legem tulit et quid utrisque faciendum esset
disposuit: patricii sacerdotiis et magistra tibus fungerentur et iudicarent,
plebeiï vero agros colerent et pecus alerent etmer. cenarias artes exercerent »
(Bruns, Fontes, pag. 3 ). (2 ) Quanto a questa ripartizione fatta da Numa, vi
ha divergenza fra CICERONE, De rep., II, 14, secondo cui la ripartizione si
sarebbe fatta viritim ai cittadini in genere, mentre DIONISIO vuole che siasi
fatta ai più poveri, II, 62. Cfr. Bongur, Storia di Roma, I, pag. 85. - Per
quello che si riferisce al patronato del re sopra la plebe, ritengo col
KARLowa, che ilmedesimo non possa essere preso nella signifi cazione giuridica
attribuita al vocabolo (Röm. R. G., I, pag. 63 ). Ciò tuttavia pon toglie, che
la plebe, dopo essersi resa indipendente dal patriziato, abbia trovato nel re
il suo protettore naturale, e siccome tale protezione non si comprendeva al
lora che sotto la figura di clientela, così gli autori considerarono il re come
patrono o la plebe come sua cliente. - stribuito quella parte della plebe, che
era dedita alle arti manuali e all'esercizio delle professioni diverse, in
corporazioni di arti e mestieri (collegia ), che furono nove: quella cioè dei
suonatori di flauto, degli orefici, dei muratori, dei tintori, dei calzolai,
dei cuoiai, dei fabbri, dei vasai e l'ultima di tutte le altre professioni,
dando alle medesime proprie riunioni e i proprii riti. Vero è, che questo
provve dimento ebbe ad essere posto in dubbio dalla critica e fra gli altri dal
Mommsen, e che probabilmente i collegi, la cui formazione si attribuisce a Numa,
potevano già esistere precedentemente, sopra tutto nel vicus Tuscus, la cui
popolazione fu una delle prime ad essere compresa nella plebe romana: ma non è
punto improbabile che, come erasi cercato di provvedere alla plebe dedita alla
coltura delle terre, cosi si cercasse di dare un'organizzazione alla plebe
dedita agli esercizi delle arti e professioni diverse, o di consacrare almeno
l'organizzazione, che già esisteva precedentemente o che tro vavasi in via di
formazione (1). Non è quindi il caso di respingere la tradizione, dal momento
che non vi ha nulla di meglio da sosti tuirvi; almodo stesso che è meglio
accettare anche le figure alquanto leggendarie dei re, piuttosto che
sostituirvi qualche cosa, che non ha neppur più della leggenda, la quale è pur
sempre intessuta sopra un fondo di vero. Intanto questo si può affermare con
certezza, che fin dagli inizii di Roma cominciò ad apparire un dualismo nella
plebe ro mana, che, accennato fin dall'epoca di Romolo con affidare alla plebe
la coltura delle terre e l'esercizio delle arti manuali, già comincia a
delinearsi con Numa, il quale ad una parte della plebe fa assegni di terre e
l'altra distribuisce per arti e mestieri, e che più tardi finisce per
accentuarsi molto più recisamente. Havvi infatti in Roma, fin dai proprii
esordii, una plebe rurale, composta di piccoli possidenti, ed (1) PLUTARCO,
Numa, 17: « De ceteris eius institutis maximam admirationem « habet plebis per
artificia distributio; haec vero fuit: tibicinum, aurificum, fabrorum «
tignuariorum, tinctorum, sutorum, coriariorum, fabrorum aerariorum, figulorum;
« reliquas artes in unum cöegit, unumque ex iis omnibus fecit corpus; consortia
et < concilia et sacra cuique generi tribuens convenientia » (V. BRUNS,
Fontes, pag. 11 ). L'autore, che sembrava porre in dubbio questa distribuzione
della plebe in arti e mestieri, sarebbe lo stesso MOMMSEN, De collegiis ac
sodaliciis; Liliae, 1843, citato dal MUIRHEAD, Histor. Introd., pag. 11; ma
pare che nella Storia Romana accetti la ripartizione stessa come una verità di
fatto. - - una plebe, composta di artieri, commercianti, esercenti le arti e le
professioni diverse. L'ideale della prima è quello sopratutto di mu tare le sue
possessioni di terre in una proprietà indipendente, che la ponga in condizione
di provvedere al sostentamento di sè e della propria famiglia; quello insomma
di avere quell'heredium o man cipium, che pur appartiene al capo della famiglia
patrizia. A questa plebe, che non abita nelle mura di Roma, ma nelle
circostanze di essa, dovette probabilmente dalla città patrizia essere
riconosciuto quel diritto, che più tardi da Roma fu pure riconosciuto alle popo
lazioni vicine, che sono indicate col nome di forcti ac sanates, cioè il ius
nexi mancipiique. Cid pud essere argomentato da cid, che Roma di regola suole
seguire gli stessi processi in condizioni anaa loghe e quindi è probabile, che
questa plebe, che risiedeva fuori della città, e costituiva in certo modo una
popolazione circostante alla medesima, fosse trattata nel modo stesso, in cui
da essa furono poi trattate le altre popolazioni vicine. L'altra parte della
plebe invece, mancando di altra organizzazione, cerca di rafforzarsi, come farà
più tardi anche la popolazione commerciante dei comuni del Medio Evo, mediante
le corporazioni di arti e di mestieri. Quelli, che apparten gono alla plebe
rurale, convengono in Roma i giorni di mercato per vendervi i loro prodotti, e per
conoscere anche i provvedimenti, che siano presi nell'interesse comune; mentre
gli altri, che apparten gono alla classe dei piccoli commercianti ed artieri,
formano fin d'allora il primo nucleo di quella plebe urbana, nel seno della
quale si formerà più tardi quella forensis factio, che già comincia ad apparire
sotto la censura di Appio Claudio, e getta il discredito sulle tribù urbane.
143. Già erasi così delineata la distinzione fra plebe rurale ed urbana, quando
sopraggiunse un avvenimento, il quale diede una grande compattezza
all'organizzazione della plebe romana, e mentre ne accrebbe il numero e la
potenza, le diede anche un nuovo indi rizzo e ne assicurò l'avvenire. Questo
avvenimento fu l'aggregarsi alla plebe romana della parte più povera della popolazione
di Alba, la cui distruzione è attribuita a Tullo Ostilio, e quella del
trasporto od anche, come pare più probabile, della riunione alla plebe di Roma
per opera di Anco Marzio, della popolazione di varie città latine da lui
conquistate. Questo nuovo contributo venne ad accrescere la forte plebe rurale,
vivamente affezionata al fondo da essa coltivato, e disposta a porre la vita
per la difesa di esso, e fece entrare nella - 177 plebe un elemento, la cui
origine era analoga a quella del patriziato, e che aveva già un'organizzazione
domestica, non dissimile da quella del medesimo. Fu il rifiuto del corpo chiuso
del patriziato primitivo di Roma di ricevere nel proprio seno queste famiglie
delle città la tine, che assicurò l'avvenire della plebe romana, incorporando
in essa un elemento, che portò nella lotta per il pareggiamento giuri dico e
politico una tenacità e perseveranza, non dissimili da quelle, che
contraddistinguono il patriziato romano. Di qui la conseguenza, che come era
stata latina l'organizzazione del patriziato romano, poichè gli elementi
sopraggiunti erano entrati nei quadri della città latina; così fu sopratutto
latina la massa più forte della plebe ro mana, quella massa, di cui una buona
parte entro più tardi a costi tuire la nuova nobiltà. Senza questo elemento la
plebe primitiva, di origine diversa e che in parte era forse di origine servile,
avrebbe molto probabilmente continuato lungamente a mantenersi tale;mentre
questo innesto di famiglie latine, che nel loro paese nativo tenevano già un
certo grado, per cui loro dovette riuscire grave di vedersi respinte dai quadri
dell'ordine patrizio, portò forza, organizzazione, tenacità nella plebe e ne
assicurò l'avvenire, fino a che questo ele mento vigoroso e vitale non fini per
uscire dalla plebe stessa, che aveva resa potente, e aggregandosi alla nobiltà
abbandonò la plebe minuta agli spettacoli del circo e alle distribuzioni di
frumento. 144. Per comprendere però un avvenimento di questa natura, importa
farsi un'idea chiara della lotta, che vi era fra Alba da una parte e Roma
dall'altra. Erano entrambe due città latine, cioè due centri di vita pubblica
fra varie comunanze di villaggio, ed erano troppo vicine per poter coesistere.
L'una o l'altra doveva cedere, e la conseguenza era per la soccombente di dover
scompa rire come città e come urbs, per modo che le comunanze, che mettevano
capo ad essa, dovessero invece fare capo a quella, che riusciva vittoriosa. Il
patto quindi che, secondo la tradizione, ebbe ad essere suggellato fra i capi
dei due popoli, con tutte le cerimonie del diritto feziale, era che,
trattandosi di popoli fratelli, si dovessero rimettere al combattimento di tre
per parte le sorti della guerra (1). (1) Questo intento della guerra Albana è
messo in evidenza dalle parole, che Livio, I, 27, attribuisce a Tullo Ostilio
nella concione tenuta avanti ai due popoli prima di condannare allo
squartamento Metto Fuffezio: « Quod bonum, faustum G. CARLE, Le origini del
diritto di Roma. 12 178 La lotta quindi leggendaria fra Orazii e Curiazii era
lotta di pre dominio fra le due città, la cui parentela era ricordata e
riconosciuta, ed era una specie di giudizio di Dio per sapere quale dovesse
preva lere: senza che occorra di sforzarsi col Lange a volere che il numero dei
tre corrisponda alle tre tribù, e che il nome di Curiazi provenga dalle curie
(1). Conseguenza dell'esito del duello fu, che la città soccombente perdette la
propria esistenza separata e fu distrutta come urbs, e quindi le genti patrizie
albane furono aggregate al patriziato romano, a cui si aggiunsero cosi i
Tullii, i Servilii, i Quinzii, iGe ganei, i Curiazii, i Clelii, le cui genti
pero, per essere sopraggiunte più tardi, furono poi collocate dallo stesso
Tullo Ostilio o da Tar quinio Prisco nel novero delle gentes minores. Tutta la
popolazione invece, che, nelle condizioni, in cui allora si trovava, non poteva
entrare nel patriziato entro in massa nei ranghi della plebe, e una parte di essa,
cioè la più povera, ebbe anche degli assegni di terre. Cid pure accadde, quando
Anco Marzio vinse altre comunanze latine, e ne aggregò la popolazione alla
plebe romana; il che fu dalla tradi zione espresso con dire, che Anco Marzio
aveva trasportata a Roma la popolazione di quattro città latine (2 ). 145. È a
questo punto pertanto, che la plebe acquista in Roma una vera importanza, e che
viene ad essere indispensabile di trovare un modo per farla entrare, ancorchè a
condizioni disuguali, nella cittadi nanza romana; tentativo cominciato con
Tarquinio Prisco, e condotto a compimento da Servio Tullio (3). Mentre
Tarquinio Prisco non riesce felixque sit populo romano ac mihi,vobisque,
Albani; populum omnem Albanum Romam traducere in animo est; civitatem dare
plebi; primores in patres legere: unam urbem, unam rempublicam facere ». (1)
Lange, Histoire intérieure de Rome, I, pag. 35. (2) Questi fatti attestati
dalla tradizione e da tutti gli storici rendono a parer mio non accoglibile
l'opinione sostenuta con molta erudizione dal PANTALEONI nella sua Storia
civile e costituzionale di Roma, lib. I, cap. 6, pag. 97 a 113, Torino, 1881,
secondo cui il partiziato romano sarebbe stato Sabellico, mentre la plebe
sarebbe stata Latina. Questi fatti invece dimostrano, che la popolazione delle
città latine era essa pure divisa in patriziato ed in plebe, cosicchè quel
dualismo che presentasi in Roma già preesisteva nel Lazio. Del resto l'ipotesi
del dotto au tore sarà poi presa in esame quando si tratterà della legislazione
regia, Lib. II, cap. IV, discorrendo del contributo recato dalle varie stirpi
italiche alle istituzioni giuridiche di Roma. (3) L'importanza grandissima per
l'avvenire della plebe romana di quest' innesto 179 che a conglobare i
rappresentanti di queste varie genti nei sacer dozii, nel senato e nell'ordine
dei cavalieri, raddoppiandone il numero, e continua a lasciare la plebe nella
condizione, in cui prima si trovava; Servio Tullio invece inizia una
organizzazione novella, che può comprendere così nelle file dell'esercito, che
nelle riunioni dei comizii quella plebe, che è già pervenuta a tale po sizione
economica e sociale, da interessarla alla cosa pubblica. È da questo punto
parimenti, che la plebe rustica di Roma comincia ad essere più apprezzata che
la plebe urbana, e che principia ad avverarsi fra i due ordini la possibilità
della formazione di un diritto comune ai medesimi. Il motivo di questo ravvicinamento
deve anche essere riposto nel fatto, che le istituzioni del patriziato e quelle
del nuovo elemento, aggiuntosi alla plebe, non erano a grande distanza fra di
loro; poichè l'uno e l'altro avevano la medesima organizza zione domestica, ed
oltre a ciò fra queste famiglie latine ve ne erano di quelle che un patriziato,
meno esclusivo e geloso dei suoi privilegi, avrebbe potuto accogliere nel
proprio seno (1). Ferma quest'origine della plebe e questa primitiva
organizzazione della medesima, veniamo a ricercare quali fossero le istituzioni
giu ridiche, che essa poteva possedere all'epoca, in cui entrò a far parte
della comunanza romana. di forti popolazioni latine sulla plebe primitiva, in
parte di origine servile, è un fatto riconosciuto da tutti gli storici.
Cominciò a notarlo il NIEBHUR, e dopo di lui il Mommsen, il Lange e molti
altri. (1) Nota molto accortamente a questo proposito il Gentile, Le elezioni e
il bro glio, pag. 142, che « quella nobiltà, che poscia fu chiamata nuova e che
in gran parte esce di ceppo latino, non era tanto nuova, quanto sembra alla
prima; perchè discendeva dalle vecchie aristocrazie di comunità italiche,
venute ad aggregarsi allo stato romano, e che avevano aspirato agli onori in
quella cittadinanza, a cui più o meno recentemente erano ascritte ». Di qui la
conseguenza, a cui egli allude a pag. 150, che « la costituzione romana,
eminentemente democratica nei principii, colla piena sovranità popolare nel
nome, lasciava il reggimento della cosa pubblica, immobile nella mano di pochi
». La posizione giuridica della plebe di fronte al patriziato. 146. Se posta
questa origine della plebe e questa primitiva or ganizzazione della medesima,
si domandasse ora in che consistesse la plebe all'epoca, in cui essa appare
nella storia di Roma, sarebbe necessità di rispondere con una deffinizione di
carattere negativo. La plebe infatti è negli esordii di Roma tutto quel nucleo
di indi. vidui e di famiglie di origine diversa, che di fatto trovasi stabilita
nel territorio romano, nei dintorni della città patrizia; ma che intanto è
priva ancora di qualsiasi posizione giuridica, perchè non entra a far parte
dell'organizzazione gentilizia. Essa è, come dice Gellio, quella parte di
popolazione, che è stabilita di fatto sul suolo romano, ma in cui « gentes
patriciae non insunt » (1); o meglio an cora quella parte di tale popolazione,
che, non essendo compresa nei quadri della organizzazione gentilizia, non può
dapprima entrare nelle curie e negli ordini della città patrizia. Al modo
stesso, che più tardi si chiamerà peregrinus chiunque non sia cittadino di
Roma, o non sia in guerra con essa, e per passare anche ad un altro ordine di
idee si chiameranno con Gaio nec mancipii tutte quelle cose, che non
appartengono alla cerchia prima formatasi della res mancipii, e anche più tardi
si diranno in bonis tutte quelle cose, che appar tengono ad una persona senza
appartenerle ex iure quiritium; cosi alla domanda in che consista la primitiva
plebe di Roma si pud solo rispondere, che essa è quell'elemento, che esiste
accanto al po pulus, ma che non entra nei quadri di esso, consacrati dalla reli
gione; quell'elemento, che esiste di fatto sul territorio della città patrizia,
ma che non è compreso nell'organizzazione giuridica e politica di essa. Ora e
sempre sarà questo il punto di vista, a cui si colloca il popolo romano, il
quale ferma il suo sguardo sopra di sè, sopra il suo culto, sopra la sua
religione, sopra la sua urbs, la sua civitas, sopra il suo diritto, e in base
al medesimo classifica e dispone tutto il rimanente dell'universo, secondo la
posizione, che esso tiene riguardo a sè e alle proprie istituzioni. Questo modo
di (1) GELL., Noct. att., X, 21, 5. - 181 - procedere del resto non sembra
esser proprio soltanto dei Romani, che chiamano tutti gli altri popoli hostes o
peregrini; ma anche dei Greci, che hanno una sola qualificazione per tutti gli
altri, che è quella di Barbari; anche dei cristiani del Medio Evo, che chia
mano tutti gli altri col nome di infedeli; ed in genere sembra es sere proprio
di tutte le stirpi Ariane, anche nell'Oriente, le quali cre. dono di avere il
diritto di sovrapporsi a tutte le altre. Che anzi questo modo di procedere può
anche ritenersi comune a tutto il genere umano, sopratutto nelle epoche
primitive, in cui ogni popolo, chiuso in sè stesso, mal conoscendo il
rimanente, giudica ed ap prezza ogni cosa, facendo sè il centro dell'universo
(1). È sempre applicando questa logica superba, ma ad un tempo ingenua e del
tutto conforme alla natura dell'uomo, che il popolo formato dalle genti
patrizie, chiamò plebe tutto ciò, che non era compreso nei suoi ordini, cioè
nelle sue genti e nelle sue curie, e che poscia il populus romanus quiritium,
dopo che già comprende va la plebe, vide una folla e moltitudine di peregrini e
di hostes in tutti quelli, che non erano compresi nei quadri della città
romana. Di qui con seguita, che la definizione di quell'elemento, che è il solo
ad essere tenuto in conto, implica eziandio la deffinizione negativa di quello,
che ne costituisce il contrapposto. 147. Se quindi è solo il populus delle
gentes, che possiede un diritto, ne verrà comeconseguenza, che la plebe non può
negli inizii avere rimpetto ad esso che una posizione di fatto, e continuerà ad
esser sempre in questa condizione, finchè il populus non le verrà facendo
qualche concessione, o la plebe stessa troverà modo di ac costarsi
all'organizzazione del populus, e di penetrare, sotto questo o quell'aspetto,
nei suoi ordini e nei suoi quadri, consacrati dalla religione e tutelati dal
diritto. La plebe insomma è un elemento, che ha una posizione di fatto, e che
si viene avviando alla conquista di una posizione di diritto. Essa è nella
stessa posizione, in cui saranno poi i Latini e gli Italici, allorchè
formeranno già il grosso dell'e sercito romano, e intanto non saranno ancora
ammessi alla cittadi. (1) Fo qui applicazione di un concetto del Vico, il quale
certo vide molto addentro alla natura dell'uomo primitivo. Tale concetto
costituisce anzi la prima degnità della sua Seconda scienza nuova, secondo cui:
« L'uomo per l'indefinita natura della mente umana, ove questa si rovesci
nell'ignoranza, egli fa sè regola dell'universo ». Solo è a notarsi, che i
Romani ciò non facevano per ignoranza,ma perchè veramente attri buivano a se
stessi una superiorità sugli altri. 182 nanza romana: mentre questi
ricorreranno in tale intento alla guerra sociale, la plebe ricorrerà invece
alle lotte civili, finchè non avrà ottenuto il pareggiamento civile e politico.
Qui, comenel resto, il processo della logica romana è sempre il medesimo;
incomincia da tanti cerchi, che si vengono formando nell'interno della città, e
che poi si vengono sempre più allargando, finchè non giungono a comprendere
tutto l'universo conquistato dalla eterna città. 148. Ciò premesso si può
comprendere, quale potesse essere lo stato delle istituzioni giuridiche presso
la plebe primitiva di Roma. Esse erano istituzioni, che avevano un'esistenza di
fatto: ma a cui il patriziato non annetteva effetti e conseguenze giuridiche.
Tuttavia, anche considerate sotto questo aspetto, le istituzioni plebee non po
tevano certo avere fra di loro un ' analogia, che possa paragonarsi con quella,
che esisteva fra le istituzioni delle genti patrizie, la quale erasi fatta più
intima, stante la loro partecipazione alla stessa co munanza civile e politica.
Anzitutto si cercherebbero indarno presso la plebe quei concetti fondamentali,
che abbiamo trovato cosi nettamente delineati presso le genti patrizie coi
vocaboli di fas, di mos e di ius. Alla plebe invece non si applica dal
patriziato che il vocabolo di usus, che riceve però presso di essa una larghissima
applicazione. Per verità è coll'usus, che si vengono a rivelare esteriormente
le unioni ma trimoniali della plebe, le quali non importano comunione delle
cose divine ed umane. Parimenti è col mezzo dell'usus, che nelle consuetudini
plebee potè avverarsi l'appropriazionedelle cose esterne. Non essendovi presso
di essa quelle forme, che a giudizio del patriziato sono indispensabili per
l'acquisto ed il trasferimento dei beni; così è solo, mediante l'usus, che
appartenga ad una persona, a scienza e pazienza di tutti gli altri, che viene a
manifestarsi non tanto la pro prietà, quanto la possessio, che dapprima tiene
luogo di essa. In fine sarà eziandio, mediante l'usus, che, allorquando verrà a
morire un capo di famiglia plebea, i suoi figli prima, e in sua mancanza i suoi
congiunti ed anche i suoi vicini verranno a mettersi a possesso dei beni da
esso lasciati; e avrà così origine quella singolare istitu zione dell'usucapio
pro herede, che il buon Gaio trovava disonesta ed immorale, perchè non era
coerente al principio dell'agnazione posto a fondamento della successione
quiritaria (1). Tutto ciò insomma, (1) GAIO, Comm., II, 53, 54. 183 in cui
predomina l'usus auctoritas (per usare l'efficacissimo voca bolo adoperato
dalla legislazione decemvirale), piuttosto che il ius propriamente detto, tutto
ciò che si fonda di preferenza sul fatto che sul diritto, è da ritenersi di
origine plebea, e solo più tardi entrò a far parte del diritto quiritario sotto
il nome di usucapio, di usureceptio, di possessio e simili. Cid spiega anche il
motivo, per cui, allorchè la legislazione decemvirale attribuì carattere
giuridico a queste istituzioni, essa abbia dovuto imporvi delle limi tazioni e
prescrivere delle condizioni, alle quali poi si aggiunsero quelle richieste più
tardi dalla giurisprudenza, perchè siavi usu capione, e perchè il possesso
possa ottenere protezione giuridica. Ciò del resto era una conseguenza delle
condizioni reali, in cui trovavasi la comunanza plebea; poichè se in un
patriziato, dalle an tiche tradizioni, tutto era preveduto e regolato con norme
e regole fisse, le quali se non avevano sempre un carattere giuridico, avevano
almeno un carattere religioso e morale; in una comunanza invece, composta di
individui e di famiglie di origine diversa, priva di tra dizioni e di recente
formazione, i rapporti fra i singoli individui non potevano essere governati,
che dall'usus. Credo non occorra qui di richiamare l'attenzione sulla
grandissima importanza, che ha questa induzione per spiegare l'origine dimolte
istituzioni primitive di Roma, e sopratutto quell'usucapione, che appare
introdotta dalla legislazione decemvirale. Colla medesima viene ad apparire
l'unità di concetto, a cui si informarono idecem viri, allorchè introdussero
contemporaneamente l'usus auctoritas per l'acquisto della manus, per l'acquisto
della proprietà immobile e mobile, e per l'acquisto anche del l'eredità.
L'usucapio infatti era l'unico mezzo per mutare al più presto la posizione di
fatto, in cui trovavasi la plebe, in una posizione di diritto. Ciò spiega
eziandio come la primitiva possessio non dovesse richiedere nè giusto titolo,
nè buona fede, e come sia stata necessaria una lunga elaborazione, perchè
potesse uscirne la teorica del possesso e quella a un tempo dell'usucapione, le
quali hanno fra di loro strettissima attinenza. Così pure si spiegano le
definizioni di Ulpiano e di Modestino, secondo cui: < Usucapio est dominii
adeptio per continuationem possessionis anni vel biennii », senza che
richiedasi altra condizione. Lo stesso è a dirsi degli sforzi dei decemviri per
trattenere l'istituzione da essi accolta in limiti tali, che non la rendessero
pe ricolosa per la convivenza sociale, escludendola per le cose rubate, e
consentendo alla moglie, che coabitava colmarito, di interrompere l'usucapione
della manus, mediante il singolare istituto del trinoctium. Intendo però di
riconoscere, che un avviamento a questa spiegazione già può ravvisarsi nel
MUIRHEAD, Histor. Introd., pag. 48 e 179, nella sua ingegnosa congettura
intorno all'origine della usucapio pro haerede, e nell' Esmein nel suo recente
articolo sull' « Histoire de l'usucapion » che si trova nei suoi Mélanges
d'Histoire de droit, Paris, 1886, pag. 171 a 217. Solo credo di 184 149.
Parimenti, è sempre sotto l'influenza di queste speciali con dizioni, in cui
trovasi la plebe, che i suoi commercii non possono essere governati da forme
solenni, simili a quelle che si erano for mate fra i padri delle famiglie
patrizie; ma dovettero svolgersi con forme semplici, quali erano suggerite dai
bisogni di una comunanza, in seno a cui non era ancora organizzata una vera
propria pro tezione giuridica. Fu quindi certamente nei rapporti della comune
plebea, che dovette anche svolgersi l'emptio-venditio, accompagnata dalla tradizione
della cosa e dal pagamento del prezzo, e questo fu forse anche il motivo, per
cui presso gli antichi, secondo Festo, emere pro accipere ponebatur, in quanto
che emere era vera mente prendere la cosa comperata (1). Fu in essa parimenti,
che dovette aver origine quel singolare istituto della fiducia, il quale serve
qual mezzo per accordare una efficace garanzia al proprio creditore, lasciando
a sua mano la cosa, che deve servirgli di malle veria (2 ). Fu parimenti in
essa, che dovette svolgersi quel modo aver allargato il concetto riunendo
istituzioni, che potevano apparire disparate, e dimostrando, che l'opera dei
decemviri fu in questa parte indirizzata a dare carat tere giuridico ad
istituzioni, che avevano solo un'esistenza di fatto presso la comu nanza
plebea. (1) Sarebbe infatti pressochè incomprensibile, che un popolo nelle condizioni
eco nomiche, in cui trovavasi allora il Romano, e del quale una parte aveva già
attra versato, e non inutilmente, tutto un periodo di organizzazione sociale,
potesse igno rare contratti, come l'emptio venditio, la locatio conductio, e
simili. Essi dovevano certamente esistere, quand'anche non fossero per
avventura penetrati nel diritto qui ritario. Cfr. MUIRHEAD, Histor. Introd.,
COGLIOLO, Prefazione, pag. XI, alla traduzione del GOODWIN, Le XII Tavole,
eseguita dal Gaddi, Città di Ca stello, 1887. È poi noto, che la disposizione
della legge decemvirale, per cui la ven dita non è perfetta, che col pagamento
del prezzo, è anche coinune alla Grecia; il che dimostra, che dovette essere
determinata da comuni necessità, in quanto che la vendita seguiva talora fra
persone, che appartenevano a genti e a comunanze diverse, e non sarebbe stato
facile riavere la cosa, quando non ne fosse stato pagato il prezzo. (2 ) Anche
l'istituto della fiducia è uno dei più antichi e dovette nascere nella
comunanza plebea, perchè fuorusciti ed immigranti senza posizione giuridica non
potevano ricorrere che a quella. Si spiega pertanto il largo uso, che se ne
fece nel diritto primitivo di Roma, in quanto che vi si ricorre nel testamento,
per la nomina di un tutore, per la concessione di un pegno e forse in molti
altri casi ancora, che dovettero verificarsi pel costume e non penetrarono nel
diritto quiritario propria mente detto. Ciò è dimostrato dalla frequenza, con
cui nei poeti latini e sopratutto nei comici occorre il caso, in cui una
persona, allontanandosi, affida il patrimonio e la figliuolanza (mandat
familiam pecuniamque suam ) ad una persona di sua confi denza. Questo costume è
anzi il perno, intorno a cui si aggira il Trinummus di PLAUTO. 185 -
semplicissimo di fare testamento, che ci venne più tardi ancora de scritto da
Gaio nelle sue forme primitive ed arcaiche, e che dovea servire più tardi come
base al testamento quiritario per aes et li bram, per cui il plebeo, che muore
senza figliuolanza, affida ad un amico il suo patrimonio e le sue sostanze,
indicandogli la maniera in cui dovrà poi distribuirli, quando egli sarà morto.
Del resto è questo il modo che ancora oggidi torna opportuno all'emigrante,
che, trovandosi in pericolo di vita ed essendo lontano dalla patria e dalla
famiglia, affida ad un amico, che avrà la fortuna di tornare in patria, tutto
ciò, che egli ha potuto risparmiare, perchè lo riporti a coloro, che gli sono
cari. Che anzi, dacchè siamo nella ricostruzione di quest'ordine di idee, parmi
che a questo modo pri mitivo di fare testamento si rannodi senz'alcun dubbio
quella istitu zione del fedecommesso, che, mantenutasi per certo nel costume, senza
poter penetrare nella cerchia rigida del diritto civile romano, fini tuttavia
per trionfare negli inizii dell'Impero e trionfo, perchè popu lare erat (1).
Quel testamento quindi, che per un capo di famiglia patrizia doveva essere
fatto coll'approvazione dell'assemblea della tribù dapprima, e poi davanti ai
comizii della città e serviva sopra tutto a perpetuare l'heredium nelle
famiglie, e ad impedire che il patrimonio uscisse dalla gente; per i membri
invece della comunanza plebea non poteva essere che un atto di fiducia, un
rimettersi, (1) Il testamento primitivo, a cui accennanoGaio, Comm. II, 102, ed
anche Gellio, XV, 27, 3, è una specie di mancipatio cum fiducia, in virtù della
quale una persona « si subita morte arguebatur, amico familiam suam, id est
patrimonium suum,mancipio dabat, eumque rogabat, quid cuique post mortem suam
dari vellet ». Ciò indica che la prima forma, sotto cui comparve il vero
testamento, quello che poi si svolse nel testa mento per aes et libram, fu il
fedecommesso,malgrado tutte le difficoltà che il mede simo incontrò poi per
passare dal costume nel diritto civile romano. È poi degno di nota, che i
Romani più tardiritennero di aver ricevuto dai peregrini questa istituzione del
fedecommesso, che certo già esisteva nella primitiva comunanza plebea. Gaio in
fatti, Comm. II, 285, scrive: « ut ecce peregrini poterant fidem commissam
facere et ferre: haec fuit origo fideicommissorum »; il che mi conferma
nell'induzione, che il primitivo diritto plebeo, di fronte al diritto già
elaborato delle genti patrizie, dovette compiere quello stesso ufficio, che più
tardi il diritto delle genti verrà a compiere di fronte al diritto civile di
Roma. Che il fedecommesso poi, ancorchè non accolto nel diritto quiritario,
abbia sempre continuato a mantenersi nel costume, è provato ad evidenza dai
comici latini. Fra gli altri esempi basti il seguente tolto dall'Andria di
TERENZIO, I, 5: « Bona nostra tibi permitto et tuae mando fidei ». È da vedersi
in proposito l’Henriot, Mours jurid. et judic., I, pag. 411 e segg. 186 che
altri faceva ad un amico o ad congiunto, acciò egli distribuisse le sue cose
per il tempo, in cui avrebbe cessato di vivere. 150. Lo stesso infine è a dirsi
dei modi di procedere contro il debitore in questo primitivo diritto plebeo.
Sarebbe inutile cercarvi la forma solenne dell'actio sacramento, che era nata e
si era svolta fra capi di famiglia, che sentivano la loro superiorità ed
indipen denza; ma è più facile che trovisi fra la plebe l'uso della manus
iniectio, ed anche quello della pignoris capio, istituzioni che sa rebbero
incomprensibili fra capi di famiglie patrizie, ove sono già penetrati il fas ed
il ius, ed hanno escluso, almeno nei rapporti fra i capi famiglia, l'uso di
farsi ragione colla forza e l'esercizio della pignorazione privata (1). Così
pure è naturale, perchè conforme alle condizioni della plebe, che in essa
ancora si rinvengano le traccie della privata vendetta, del taglione, come pena
di colui che ha recato un danno, della composizione a danaro per un furto
sofferto, e perfino anche per un adulterio;perchè queste sono tutte
istituzioni, che sono consentanee col modo di agire e di pensare di una
comunanza plebea, mentre ri pugnerebbero all'organizzazione gerarchica e di
carattere religioso, che era così fermamente stabilita presso il patriziato (2).
La plebe (1) L'origine plebea dell'actio sacramento è esclusa dal carattere
religioso inerente alla medesima ed anche dalla circostanza, che noi la
troviamo comune alle genti italiche ed elleniche, come lo dimostra la
descrizione, che ne troviamo in OMERO, Iliade, Canto XVIII, ove descrive lo
scudo di Achille, il che può indurre a credere, che essa fosse già importata
dall'Oriente. Quanto alla manus iniectio, essa poteva esistere fra la plebe,
come esercizio privato delle proprie ragioni; ma non poteva avere la
significazione giuridica, che vi attribuì il patriziato. In questo senso
ritengo, che la manus iniectio fosse una procedura usata dai padri contro i
debitori plebei, il che cercherò di provare nel capitolo seguente. (2) Questa
varia concezione del delitto presso ceti di persone, che erano in con dizioni
sociali compiutamente diverse, può essere facilmente compresa. Il patrizio
sente di far parte di una corporazione religiosa e civile ad un tempo, e quindi
può scorgere nel delitto un'offesa al costume dei maggiori, una violazione del
fas, ed un danno alla comunanza: non così il plebeo, che è ancora soltanto un
individuo, o un capo di famiglia, pressochè isolato in una comunanza in via di
formazione. È quindi naturale, che egli nel delitto senta sopratutto il danno
materiale che gliene deriva, che consideri la noxa (colpa ) come una noxia
(danno): che quindi reagisca contro quel danno; ricorra al taglione; venga alla
composizione a danaro; e così riverberi in modo più schietto l'impressione, che
dovette fare il delitto nelle epoche primitive. Quegli vede già ogni cosa
attraverso al gruppo di cui fa parte, e quindi comincia 187 primitiva nel
delitto sente sopratutto il danno e reagisce contro di esso; mentre il
patriziato già vi scorge un peccato contro la divinità e già comincia a
ravvisarvi un danno, che colpisce l'intiera comu nanza. Tutte le istituzioni
insomma, che non presuppongono una lunga preparazione anteriore, che non hanno
una storia nel passato, ma che trovano direttamente la propria radice nelle
tendenze naturali dell'uomo e nei bisogni immediati di una comunanza, che è
soltanto in via di formazione, e in cui entra ad ogni istante un nuovo ele
mento, che si viene aggregando, debbono essere ritenute di origine plebea. Non
chiedansi alla plebe nè i iura gentium colle cerimonie solenni, da cui sono
circondati, né le procedure, che contengono una storia del passato, nè gli
auspicia, che ad ogni atto pubblico e pri vato imprimono un carattere religioso;ma
solo chiedasi ad essa il senso di quel ius naturale, quod natura omnia animalia
docuit. Sarà anzi questo connubio di un elemento onusto di tradizioni con un
altro vergine di esse, che potrà rendere possibile la formazione di un di ritto,
che finirà per dar forma giuridica a tutta l'immensa suppel lettile dei
rapporti derivanti dalla civil convivenza. Come quindi esistevano, fin dagli
inizii di Roma le traccie del ius gentium; cosi vi erano anche quelle del ius
naturale, non come idea filosofica, pre sente alla mente di un giureconsulto,
ma come un complesso di forze e di energie inerenti all'umana natura, che
spingevano una comu nanza in via di formazione a provvedere a tutti i bisogni e
a tutte le esigenze, che si venivano presentando. Per talmodo ciò che più tardi
verrà ad essere nozione astratta, negli inizii è forza ed energia, che spinge,
come direbbe il Vico, l'uomo ad celebrandam suam so cialem naturam. Basta
questo per dimostrare, come anche negli usi della plebe potesse esistere un
materiale greggio, che potè a poco a poco ricevere forma giuridica nel diritto
quiritario. Per tal modo certe istituzioni, che compariscono solo più tardi,
poterono già esi stere, come usi, da un'epoca ben più antica. Cid serve intanto
a spiegare come nel diritto quiritario non trovisi dapprima una quan tità di
atti e di negozii, senza cui sarebbe stato impossibile ogni com già a scorgere
nel delitto un'offesa collettiva; mentre questi non sente ancora che il danno
privato, che possa derivargliene. È questa la ragione, per cui i delitti nel
diritto quiritario si presentano dapprima col carattere di offese private, e
solo a poco a poco si convertono in delitti pubblici. Cfr. Voigt, Die XII
Tafeln, I, pag. 434. 188 mercio per un popolo, le cui istituzioni giuridiche e
politiche già dimostrano assai progredito. Qui intanto, per non spingere questa
ricostruzione a particolari troppo minuti, arresterò l'attenzione alle due
istituzioni fondamentali del diritto privato, che sono la famiglia e la
proprietà. 151. Se noi consideriamo la plebe riguardo all'organizzazione della
famiglia, quale è giudicata dai patrizii, noi troviamo che essa non ha le
iustae nuptiae,madei semplici matrimonia, quasi ad in dicare che i plebei
potevano bensi indicare le loro madri, ma non potevano indicare con certezza i
loro padri. Al qual proposito si deve ammettere col Muirhead, che, trattandosi
di persone, alcune delle quali erano di origine servile, potesse anche esistere
una certa qual rilassatezza nelle unioni matrimoniali dell'infima plebe. Non
sembra tuttavia, che la congettura possa spingersi fino al punto, a cui la
spinge il Bachofen, secondo il quale, fra gli elementi che entra vano a
costituire la plebe, avrebbero dovuto esservene di quelli (e sarebbero quelli
di origine etrusca, abitanti nel vicus Tuscus) i quali avrebbero solo
conosciuta la parentela dal lato delle femmine, e si sarebbero cosi trovati
nella condizione del matriarcato. Senza affermare, nè negare il fatto, perchè
mancano gli elementi per decidere, credo pero didovere osservare che, quando
questo fosse stato, ne sarebbero rimaste maggiori traccie ed indizii. Il
vocabolo dima trimonia per sè significa soltanto, che la plebe riconosceva la
pa rentela dal lato di madre, ossia la cognazione, mentre l'organizza zione
della famiglia patrizia fondavasi esclusivamente sul vincolo dell'agnazione.
Quindi quello solo, che noi possiamo affermare con certezza, si è che nella
plebe primitiva quanto che serve talora ad indicare leesisteva una famiglia,
costi tuita sulle sue basi naturali, cioè fondata sulla cognazione e sulla
affinità. Ed è anche facile trovare la ragione di questo fatto, la quale
consiste in questo, che la famiglia plebea, appunto perchè non era ancora
entrata a far parte dell'organizzazione gentilizia, cosi non aveva ancora
potuto subire quell'artificiale ordinamento, che veniva ad essere necessario
per una famiglia, che doveva servire di convivenza domestica e politica ad un
tempo. Era quindi naturale, che la plebe, non avendo l'organizzazione
gentilizia fondata sull'a [Cfr. Muirhead, Histor. Introd., e il Bachofen, Das
Mutterrecht Stuttgart] gnazione, cercasse modo di rafforzarsi mediante vincoli
più natu rali e più facili a comprendersi, quali sono appunto quelli della co
gnazione e dell'affinità. Non è quindi il caso di contrapporre alla famiglia
patriarcale una famiglia matriarcale; ma solo di dire, che la plebe, non avendo
la famiglia fondata sull'agnazione, aveva in vece quella fondata sulla
cognazione, in quanto che quella potrà aver valore per le genti dalle antiche
tradizioni, mentre questa pud essere capita e sentita da chicchessia. Qui però
si potrebbe opporre che, così essendo, male si com prende come nel diritto
quiritario a vece della famiglia, fondata sul vincolo del sangue, che certo dal
nostro punto di vista avrebbe do vuto essere preferita, abbia invece avuta
prevalenza la famiglia, fon data sull’agnazione, e come solo più tardi la
cognazione sia riuscita a correggere almeno in parte la famiglia primitiva
romana. Cid tuttavia può essere facilmente compreso, quando si consideri, che
la città, in cui trattavasi di entrare, era stata fondata dai patrizii; che
questi erano i forti ed i ricchi, mentre i plebei erano, almeno negli esordii,
i deboli ed i poveri; che quelli avevano una posizione di diritto, e che questi
erano solo tollerati per la loro posizione di fatto. Era quindi naturale,
necessario, che la plebe, sopratutto quando fu for temente compenetrata
dall'elemento latino, la cui organizzazione domestica era analoga a quella
delle genti patrizie, si sforzasse di imitare anche in questa parte il
patriziato, e che anzi col tempo le famiglie plebee, che erano pervenute al ius
imaginum, si sforzassero di imi tare perfino l'organizzazione per gentes in
un'epoca, in cui essa åveva già certamente perduto della propria importanza. Del
resto è incontrastabile, che di questo fondamento cognatizio della famiglia
plebea rimasero delle traccie nella legislazione pri mitiva di Roma, sopratutto
in quelle istituzioni domestiche, che dovettero probabilmente essere di origine
plebea. Così, ad esempio, è notabile che la legislazione decemvirale, mentre
assegna la suc cessione legittima e la tutela legittima agli agnati, lascia
invece al gruppo dei cognati e degli affini (cognati et adfines ) il diritto ed
il dovere di proseguire e porre in accusa l'uccisore di un parente, quello di
appellare da una sentenza capitale pronunziata contro un congiunto:
disposizioni, che possono considerarsi come sopravvivenze e quasi accenni di
vendetta privata, la quale, come si è visto sopra, sussisteva sopratutto in
seno alla plebe. Insomma la conclusione ultima sarebbe questa, che Roma, fin
dai suoi esordii, non ignorò la famiglia fondata sulla cognazione e la
possedette anzi sotto la umile apparenza di un'istituzione plebea; che tuttavia
questa famiglia naturale, nel periodo di formazione del di ritto civile di
Roma, fu in certo modo soverchiata dalla famiglia agnatizia, propria del
patriziato; e solo riusci di nuovo più tardi, comemolte altre istituzioni, a
rientrare in modo indiretto nella cer chia del diritto romano, sotto la protezione
del pretore e del diritto delle genti. Nè questa è conseguenza di poca
importanza, perchè colla famiglia si connette tutto il sistema della
successione e della tutela legittima, le quali perciò penetrarono eziandio
coll'organizza zione gentilizia della famiglia nel diritto quiritario. Cid
intanto spiega eziandio, come in via di reazione nello stesso diritto
quiritario abbia preso così largo svolgimento l'istituzione del testamento,
perchè questo era il solo mezzo per sottrarsi alle conseguenze di un sistema di
successione legittima, ispirato ancora al concetto di serbare in tegro il
patrimonio nelle gentes; sistema, che una piccola minoranza di genti patrizie
era riuscita ad imporre ad un numero assai mag giore di famiglie, e che col
tempo, col dissolversi della organizza zione gentilizia, fini per divenire
grave allo stesso patriziato. 154. Per quello poi, che si riferisce alle
condizioni economiche della plebe, è assai probabile che la medesima, prima di
giungere ad una vera proprietà di diritto, abbia cominciato dall'occupare di
fatto quella parte di suolo, sovra cui i plebei venivano a stabilirsi nelle
vicinanze di Roma insieme colla propria famiglia. Dapprima queste possessioni
figuravano, od erano in effetto assegni loro fatti o dai padri o dal re come
loro patroni, od erano anche terreni incolti, sovra cui si arrestava la
famiglia plebea, per fondarvi il proprio tugurium e dissodarvi attorno un
piccolo ager. Questo stato primitivo di cose può essere indotto da alcuni passi
di Festo, che si riferiscono a questi primitivi possessi ed all'occu pazione di
agri, che, per mancanza di coltivatori, fossero stati ab bandonati. Egli
infatti scrive: Possessiones appellantur agri late patentes, publici privatique,
quia non mancipatione sed usu (1) Cfr. MUIRHEAD, Histor. Introd., tenebantur,
et ut quisque occupaverat, colebat (1). Qui infatti è evidente, che non si
parla solo di possessioni nell'agro pubblico, ma anche di possessioni di
carattere privato, e furono queste, che do vettero appunto essere le prime
possessioni della plebe. Ciò è pure confermato dallo stesso Festo, ove scrive:
occupaticius ager di citur, qui desertus a cultoribus frequentari propriis, ab
aliis occupatur (2), indicando cosi l'esistenza di una consuetudine, per cui,
se l'agro era abbandonato dai suoi cultori, ne sottentravano degli altri. Del
resto che le possessioni dovessero acquistarsi in questo modo, in seno alle
comunanze plebee, lo dimostra l'importanza, che presso di esse acquistò l'usus
auctoritas. Tale importanza appare dal fatto, che secondo le leggi decemvirali
bastava il possesso di un anno per l'acquisto delle cose mobili e quello di due
anni per quello delle immobili; disposizione questa, che dovette uscire dagli
usi proprii della plebe. Mentre infatti, presso le genti patrizie, tutto era
governato dal mos e dal fas; in una comunanza plebea, che era soltanto nella
propria formazione, non poteva esservi altra autorità, che quella dell'usus, e
doveva apparire proprietario quegli, che in effetto usucapiva la cosa od il
fondo, del quale si trattava. La pro prietà non poteva ancora in questa
condizione di cose distinguersi affatto dal possesso, e quindi si comprende che
il giureconsulto più tardi ancora dicesse: dominium rerum ex naturali
possessione cae pisse, Nerva filius ait; eiusque rei vestigium remanere de his,
quae terra, mari, coeloque capiuntur; nam haec protinus eorum fiunt, qui primi
possessionem eorum apprehenderint (3). Si com prende parimenti, comein una
comunanza di questa natura, che dap principio era costituita da una massa
mobile ed eterogenea, dovesse ri. tenersi sufficiente il breve termine di un
anno per l'usucapione delle cose mobili, e di due anni per l'usucapione di
quelle immobili; e cið nell'intento di poter trasformare con celerità lo stato
di fatto in stato di diritto, il possesso in proprietà. Se in una comunanza già
formata importa di allungare il termine dell'usucapione, acciò essa non serva
come mezzo per usurpare il diritto esistente; in una co (1) V. Festo, v° Possessiones
(Bruns, Fontes, pag. 354): la qual definizione è ri portata tal quale anche da
Isidoro (BRUNs). Festo, Occupaticius. Di qui già il RUDDORF ebbe ad indurre che
l'ager occupatorius non doveva confondersi coll'ager occupaticius (Bruns,
Fontes, pag. 348, nota 6). Vedi per l'opinione contraria Karlowa, Röm. R. G.; Paulus,
L. 1, § 1, Dig.] munanza invece, la quale sia in via di formazione e attragga
in sé nuovi elementi, importa di abbreviare il termine di tale usuca pione,
acciò lo stato di fatto mutisi al più presto in uno stato di diritto. Con tale
sistema una famiglia plebea, quando fermava il piede sopra un suolo incolto od
abbandonato (possessio, da pedum quasi positio) aveva appena tempo a metterlo
in coltivazione, che già ne diventava proprietaria ex iure quiritium, e intanto,
appena un posto rimaneva vacante, veniva ad esservi quello, che lo occu pava, e
dopo breve tempo era considerato ancor esso come legittimo proprietario. Certo
non poteva esservi un migliore sistema per po polare immediatamente il
territorio circostante a Roma, e per popo larlo di famiglie che, affezionandosi
al suolo, finissero per prendere interesse alla grandezza e all'avvenire di
quella città patrizia, sotto la cui protezione e tutela la plebe aveva potuto
diventare anch'essa proprietaria del suolo (1 ). Ciò però non dovette accadere
di un tratto; ma solo a misura che i commerci fra Roma patrizia e la popola
zione circostante conducevano alla formazione di un comune diritto. 155. Fu
quindi solo col tempo, che queste possessioni, tollerate dai padri, od anche
dai medesimi o dal re assegnate ai plebei a titolo di precario, poterono
cambiarsi in una specie di proprietà di fatto più che di diritto, sovra cui
essi vivevano colla propria famiglia. Intanto questo piccolo podere coi frutti,
che se ne potevano ricavare e che portavansi al mercato, porgeva anche alla
plebe occasione di entrare in commercio col patriziato. Si comprende quindi,
che quando le cose furono a tal punto, che i re sentirono la conve nienza di
aggregare la plebe alla cittadinanza romana, anche per afforzare l'esercito
della città patrizia, dovesse sorgere naturalmente l'idea, attuata poi da
Servio Tullio, di ammetterli alla comunanza, in quanto erano capi di famiglia,
e avevano uno spazio di terra, sovra cui potevano vivere colla propria famiglia.
Siccome poi la plebe non conosceva altra proprietà, che la privata, o meglio
quella, che ap (1) Trovo in Gellio, Noc. Att., XVI, 11 un passo, che dimostra
come i Romani comprendessero l'importanza, che aveva la proprietà per
interessare la plebe alle sorti della Repubblica: « Sed quoniam res pecuniaque
familiaris obsidis vicem pignorisque esse apud rempublicam videbatur, amorisque
in patriam, fides quaedam in ea, firmamentumque erat ». Fu questo, aggiunge
Gellio, il motivo, per cui i prole tarii, e i capite censi, solo tardi e quando
non se ne potè fare a meno, furono chia inati a far parte dell'esercito. 193
partiene al capo di famiglia, non aveva agro gentilizio, e non doveva neppure
dapprima essere ammessa ad immettere i proprii greggi nell'ager compascuus
della tribù, al modo stesso che più tardi non fu ammessa all'occupazione
dell'ager publicus, la quale occupazione dapprima ritenevasi come un privilegio
dell'ordine pa trizio; cosi ne derivò la conseguenza, che l'unica proprietà,
che poteva essere riguardata come posta a base della comunanza patrizio-plebea,
perchè era la sola, che fosse comune ai due or dini, era la proprietà privata.
Cid può servire a spiegare il fatto, che da Servio Tullio in poi quasi più non
si discorre degli agri gentilicii, che pur continuavano sempre ad appartenere
alle genti: ma solo più dell'ager privatus, delmancipium, dei praedia censui
censendo, e dell'ager publicus. Questi sono l'unica proprietà della plebe;
mentre l'occupazione dell'agro pubblico è una gran sor gente della ricchezza
del patriziato. Quindi si comprende l'affetto tenace, con cui la plebe si
attacca alla propria terra, il suo sotto porsi al duro vincolo del nexum,
piuttosto che alienarla, e la lotta, che essa sostiene per ottenere quelle
ripartizioni dell'ager publicus, che le porgevano mezzo di entrare nella vera
cittadinanza di Roma. Intanto siccome questa proprietà e il commercio, che
derivava da essa, erano gli unici diritti, che la plebe avesse comuni col patri
ziato: così viene eziandio a spiegarsi, come gli atti tutti del primitivo
diritto quiritario assumano un carattere essenzialmente mercantile, e siano
tutti fatti entrare forzatamente sotto le figure del nexum e del mancipium,
come meglio apparirà più tardi. Dalle cose premesse si può raccogliere la
conclusione se guente, quanto ai rapporti, che intercedono fra il patriziato e
la plebe negli esordii della comunanza romana. Per quanto debba ri tenersi, che
il primo nucleo della plebe siasi costituito mediante ele menti,che si vennero
staccando dalla stessa organizzazione gentilizia, perchè più non potevano
essere compresi nei quadri della medesima; tuttavia la plebe, avendo richiamati
a sè tutti coloro, che si trovarono spostati nell'anteriore organizzazione, crebbe
per modo in numero ed importanza da costituire di fronte alla città patrizia
una vera e propria comunanza plebea, che doveva di necessità essere presa in
considerazione. Siccome tuttavia la plebe è fuori di quella organiz zazione,
che è l'unica riconosciuta dal patriziato; così essa viene dapprima ad essere
lasciata a se stessa ed è considerata come una moltitudine ed una folla, la
quale ha bensì una esistenza, C. Le origini del diritto di Roma.] di fatto, ma
che è priva di qualsiasi posizione giuridica di fronte al patriziato. Di qui il
dualismo fra i due ordini, che, nato già nella tribù, viene a costituire il
gran dramma della comunanza civile e politica. In questa infatti son chiamati a
convivere due elementi: di cui uno ha una posizione di diritto, ha la città, ha
gli auspicii, le magistrature, gli onori; mentre l'altro non ha che una
posizione di fatto, più tollerata che riconosciuta, e non può fare as
segnamento, che su quello spazio di terra, sovra cui si è stabilito colle
proprie famiglie, ed è solo poggiandosisopra di esso, che potrà entrare a fare
parte della comunanza. Per quello poi, che si riferisce alle loro istituzioni
religiose, giu ridiche e politiche, non corre una minore differenza fra i due
or dini. Mentre il patriziato è nei vincoli delle tradizioni e del culto dei
suoi antenati, dei concetti, che forse ha recati dallo stesso Oriente, e
trovasi fra le strette dell'organizzazione gentilizia, che dopo aver fatta la
sua forza, comincia ora ad impedirne il naturale sviluppo e a cambiarlo in
un'aristocrazia chiusa in se stessa; la plebe invece ha l'inconveniente, ma al
tempo stesso il vantaggio di en trare nella vita politica, senza la memoria dei
maggiori ed il culto di essi, senza essere vincolata dalle proprie tradizioni,
e trovasi cosi in condizione di ubbidire al proprio interesse, alle proprie esi
genze, ai bisogni e alle necessità della nuova organizzazione so ciale. A ciò
si aggiunge, secondo la profonda osservazione del Kar lowa, che nell'uomo della
plebe per la prima volta compare la nozione per cui l'uomo libero, sciolto da
ogni vincolo sociale e gen tilizio, deve essere riguardato come persona, ossia
come capace di diritto e di obbligazioni; per guisa che anche il maggior
concetto, a cui abbia saputo elevarsi il diritto romano, che è quello di rico
noscere l'uomo libero come capace di diritto, ebbe in parte a svol gersi sotto
l'influenza dell'elemento plebeo (1). 157. Per tal modo Roma si trovò di fronte
al problema di far convivere nelle stesse mura, e di sottoporre all'impero
delmedesimo (1) KARLOWA, Römische Rechtsgeschichte, I, pag. 64. L'autore, che
ebbe giusta mente a notare che il più alto concetto, a cui giunse il diritto
privato di Roma, è quello che l'uomo libero, come tale, sia capace di diritto,
è il compianto Bruns, Geschichte und Quellen des römisches Recht's, $ 3, in
HoltZENDORFF's, Encyclo pädie, I, pag. 105, 4.ed. — È da vedersi in proposito
il Brugi, Le cause intrinseche della universalità del dir. rom., Prol.,
Palermo, 1886. 195 diritto due ordini, di cui uno era ricco di tradizioni e
stretto nei vincoli del passato, mentre l'altro, per le speciali sue condizioni
di fatto, non aveva per sè che il presente e sopratutto l'avvenire. Il problema
per la plebe era quello di mutare la sua posizione di fatto in una posizione di
diritto, e per il patriziato quello di dare alla plebe un diritto e di farla
entrare nei quadri della sua città, senza comunicarle che gradatamente quel
fascio di tradizioni reli giose, giuridiche e morali, di cui esso era
gelosissimo conservatore. Certo il problema era di difficile risoluzione, ma la
logica giuri dica di Roma seppe risolverlo in un modo, che può veramente dirsi
meraviglioso. La conseguenza venne ad essere questa, che il di ritto, che venne
formandosi in Roma, si presenta antico sotto un aspetto e nuovo sotto un altro.
È antico nei concetti, nelle forme, nei vocaboli stessi, che già tutti
esistevano precedentemente ed erano stati elaborati dal patriziato nel periodo
dell'organizzazione genti lizia; ma è nuovo in quanto che nelle forme antiche
penetra uno spirito nuovo e si fa entrare tutta una nuova vita civile e poli
tica, che più non poteva essere contenuta nei quadri dell'organiz zazione
gentilizia. Nella formazione di questo diritto tutto ciò che è di forme
solenni, di concetti già elaborati, di istituzioni aventi carat tere religioso
e morale, viene ad essere di origine patrizia; mentre tutto ciò, che trova
origine nel semplice usus, nella semplice pos sessio, nel fatto più che nel
diritto, e non è avvolto ancora in forme solenni e tradizionali, deve ritenersi
piuttosto di origine plebea. La distanza stessa poi, a cui trovavansi i due
elementi, che dovevano entrare a far parte della medesima città, obbliga il
diritto quiritario a prendere le mosse nella propria formazione dai concetti
elemen tari della proprietà e della famiglia, che erano i soli, che fossero
comuni ai due ordini, per venire poi all'elaborazione lenta e graduata di tutti
gli altri istituti giuridici. Per tal modo nella formazione del diritto
pubblico e privato di Roma noi abbiamo un nucleo co piosissimo di tradizioni,
di concetti e di vocaboli, già preparati in un periodo anteriore, che viene in
certo modo a fondersi nel cro giuolo della comunanza civile e politica, per
guisa che, precipitando e cristallizzando lentamente e gradatamente, finisce
per dare origine ad un diritto, del quale si può dire con ragione, che si è
formato rebus ipsis dictantibus et necessitate exigente. Solo resta a spiegare,
come in questa condizione di cose siasi de. terminata la prima formazione del
diritto quiritario nello stretto senso, che suol essere attribuito a questo
vocabolo. Non può certamente negarsi, anche da uno schietto ammi ratore della
logica, che ha governata la formazione e lo svolgimento del diritto privato di
Roma, che esso nei proprii esordii presentasi con un carattere di rozzezza e di
violenza, che desta un'impressione sfavorevole e pressochè di ripugnanza, e
spiega anche l'affermazione di coloro, che ebbero a considerarlo, come l'opera
esclusiva della forza. Tale impressione è prodotta specialmente da certi
vocaboli e concetti, che occorrono nel primitivo jus quiritium: vocaboli, che
portano con sè l'impronta della forza e della violenza. Fra questi vocaboli non
deve essere annoverato quello di manus, che nel di ritto quiritario significò
il potere spettante al capo di famiglia sulle persone e sulle cose, che da esso
dipendono, in quanto che questo vocabolo se da una parte indica la forza e la
potenza, che si impone; dall'altra può anche significare la protezione e la
difesa, che la manus accorda a tutti coloro, che da essa dipendono. Si
aggiunge, che questo vocabolo di manus o qualche altro, che corrisponda al me
desimo, sembra essere stato adoperato nella stessa significazione dalle altre
stirpi di origine ariana (1). Sonvi invece nel primitivo ius quiritium altri
vocaboli, come quelli di mancipium, di nexum, di manus iniectio, che non solo
si ispirano al concetto della forza, [ È abbastanza noto in proposito che alla
manus del capo di famiglia romano corrisponde anche nella sua significazione
materiale il mund ed il mundium del capo di famiglia germanico; il che però non
toglie che i due istituti abbiano rice vuto un diverso svolgimento presso i due
popoli, sopratutto per ciò che si riferisce al potere del padre sui figli. V.
in proposito: VIOLLET, Histoire du droit français, Paris, 1886, pag. 412, cogli
autori citati a pag. 447. Del resto fra il primitivo diritto romano e il primitivo
diritto germanico vi hanno ben altre istituzioni, che si corrispondono, e fra
le altre potrebbesi forse fare un interessante raffronto fra il ius
applicationis dei Romani, e il comitatus e la commendatio presso i popoli
Germanici. 197 ma, applicandosi anche alle persone, sembrano recare con sè
l'idea di soggezione e di dipendenza di una persona da un'altra. È quindi assai
difficile a spiegarsi, come mai dal mos e dal fas delle genti patrizie, e
dall'usus, che veniva formandosi nel seno della plebe, abbiano potuto scaturire
concetti di questa natura, a cui manca non solo quell’aureola religiosa, da cui
sono circondate le istituzioni gentilizie, ma perfino quel carattere di fiera
indipendenza, che con traddistingue le istituzioni primitive dei popoli
italici. 159. Ritengo tuttavia, che questa apparente contraddizione fra questi
concetti del primitivo ius quiritium e gli elementi, che avreb bero contribuito
alla sua formazione, possa essere spiegata, quando si ammetta la congettura, a
cui ho accennato più sopra parlando dell'actio sacramento e della manus
iniectio, e sulla quale importa qui di insistere più lungamente. La congettura
sta in questo, che nelle istituzioni del diritto quiritario vene hanno alcune,
che si erano formate nei rapporti fra i capi delle famiglie patrizie, e perciò
nel seno stesso delle genti e delle tribù; ma ve ne hanno eziandio delle altre,
le quali dovettero invece formarsi ed assumere un contenuto preciso nelle lotte
e nei conflitti fra la classe dei vincitori e quella dei vinti. Il ius
quiritium primitivo non governo solo rapporti fra capi di famiglia uguali fra
di loro e appartenenti alla stessa tribù; ma dovette eziandio reggere i
rapporti fra le genti organizzate nella tribù e la moltitudine e la folla, per
la maggior parte di origine servile, che ancora circondava i primitivi
stabilimenti patrizii. Quindi se era naturale, che la prima parte del ius
quiritium portasse le traccie della fiera indipendenza di quei capi di
famiglia, dei quali nemo servitutem servivit; la seconda invece doveva portare
quelle della soggezione, a cui era ridotta la classe inferiore. Non può cer.
tamente presumersi, che questi due ordini di persone potessero en trare in
rapporti giuridici fra di loro, sopra un piede di assoluta eguaglianza. Quindi
mi sembra naturale, che il primitivo ius qui ritium, a somiglianza del diritto
feudale, che ebbe poi a formarsi in una condizione di cose non dissimile da
questa, debba in qualche parte portare le traccie della superiorità, che si
attribuivano i vincitori, i conquistatori, i primi organizzatori di una
convivenza sociale, e dell'abbiezione invece, a cui erano ridotti i vinti, i
con quistati e quelli, che, non essendo ancora pervenuti ad una organize
zazione sociale, abbisognavano perciò di protezione e di difesa. Questo è certo
che anche più tardi noi troviamo una disu guaglianza di condizione giuridica
fra Roma e le popolazioni, da cui essa è circondata; come lo dimostra ancora
l'accenno, che più tardi è fatto dalla legislazione decemvirale dei forcti ac
sanates, ai quali, secondo Festo, sarebbe stato accordato unicamente il ius
nesi man cipiique. Da questo peculiare rapporto giuridico, che intercede fra
Roma e le popolazioni circostanti, mi sembra di poter dedurre con fondamento,
che quel nexum e quel mancipium, che poscia vennero a significare dei rapporti
privati fra i cittadini, abbiano potuto un tempo indicare dei rapporti, che
correvano fra le genti patrizie e le popolazioni di diritto inferiore e
pressochè vassalle, che abitavano nel territorio circostante a Roma. Che anzi
qui mi pare opportuno di dare svolgimento ad un concetto, che fino ad ora potè
solo essere accennato, ma non svolto. Il medesimo consiste in ritenere, che la
condizione primitiva della plebe, di fronte alla città patrizia, dovette essere
analoga a quella, in cui ci vengono descritti posteriormente i forcti ac
sanates, in base alla legislazione decem virale. È un magistero eminentemente
romano quello di seguire sempre il medesimo processo, allorchè si avverano le
stesse condizioni di fatto. Ora non è dubbio, che la plebe in Roma primitiva
era costituita da popolazioni circostanti, superiori ed inferiori a Roma, in
condi zioni quasi del tutto simili a quelle, in cui Festo ci descrive essersi
poscia trovati i forcti ac sanates. È quindi naturale e del tutto pro babile,
che Roma abbia fatto dapprincipio alle popolazioni, che lo erano più vicine, e
che costituivano così la prima plebe, la posizione stessa, che fece poi ai
forcti ac sanates; che cioè abbia loro rico nosciuto dapprima il ius nexi
mancipiique, il diritto cioè di obbli garsi, di acquistare e di trasferire la
proprietà nei modi riconosciuti dal suo stesso diritto. Ciò era necessità,
perchè fossero possibili i commercii fra patriziato e plebe; e intanto spiega
eziandio, come i primi concetti, che compariscano nel diritto quiritario,
comune ai due ordini, siano appunto quelli del nexum e delmancipium, i quali
perciò, al pari di quello del commercium, al quale corrispondono, si svolsero
dapprima fra popolazioni diverse, e poi furono portati nei rap porti interni
fra i membri di una stessa città. Roma patrizia insomma avrebbe in questa parte
usato il più semplice dei processi. Dapprima avrebbe considerata la plebe come
una popolazione circostante alla città, con cui non poteva a meno di essere in
commercio, e perciò avrebbe accordato alla medesima quel ius nexi mancipiique,
che anche più tardi continuò ad accordare ai forcti ac sanates. Quando 199 -
poi la plebe fu anch'essa incorporata nella città, e coll'ampliamento delle
mura serviane una parte delle abitazioni dei plebei si trovò entro il recinto
dell'urbs, quel diritto, che prima governava i rap porti, che intercedevano fra
due popolazioni distinte, continud natu ralmente a governare i rapporti dei due
ordini, in quanto essi fa cevano parte della stessa comunanza; quello, che era
dapprima un diritto esterno, divento diritto interno, e fu il punto di partenza
dello svolgimento del ius quiritium. Certo questa non è che una congettura fondata
sul processo solitamente seguito dai Romani; ma fornisce una spiegazione così
naturale delle cose, e così conforme al metodo romano, che non mi sembra
temerità di aggiungerla alle altre, che già si escogitarono al riguardo.
Intanto, come ho già altrove avvertito (1), viene eziandio a comprendersi il
motivo, per cui questa speciale posizione giuridica dei forcti ac sanates,
poscia sia scomparsa per guisa da non sapersi più comprendere il signifi cato
della medesima, poichè col tempo anch'essi entrarono a far parte della plebe
romana, e quindi mancò ogni ragione per serbare loro questa peculiare
condizione giuridica. & neaco (Il solo passo, che a noi pervenne intorno ai
forcti ac sanates, è di Festo, ed il medesimo è ancora in tale stato, che fu
assaidifficile la ricostruzione di esso. L'OFFMANN, Das Gesetz d. XII Tafeln
von den Forcten und Sanaten. Vienna, 1866, ritiene che il passo delle XII
Tavole, a cui Festo accenna, vº Sanates (Bruns, Fontes, pag. 664), fosse così
concepito: mancipatoque ac forcti sanatique idem iuris esto ». Questa lezione
stata adottata dal LANGE, Hist. intér. de Rome, I, pag. 171, fu respinta dal
MOMMSEN, sulla conside razione che qui trattavasi di determinare la condizione
dei forcti ac sanates in sè considerati, e non di metterli a comparazione coi
nexi ac mancipati, dei quali non si saprebbe poi dire, quale potesse essere la
speciale posizione giuridica. Il Voigt, Die XII Tafeln, I,pag. 273 e 733, Tab.
XI,6, ricostruirebbe invece la legge in questa guisa: e nexum mancipiumque, idem
quod Quiritium, forcti sanatisque supra infra que urbem esto »; ma non pare che
sia nell' indole della legge decemvirale di en trare in particolari così
minuti. Parmi quindi di adottare piuttosto il testo della legge, quale sarebbe
accettato dal MOMMSEN; ~ Nexi mancipiique forcti sanatesque idem iuris esto »;
il che significherebbe in sostanza ciò, che pure dice il Voigt, che cioè i
forcti ac sanates possono obbligarsi e trasferire il proprio mancipium nel modo
riconosciuto dal diritto quiritario, cosicchè verrebbe ad essere probabile, che
la loro posizione fosse precisamente quella della plebs, allorchè era già
ammessa in questi confini al commercium,ma non aveva ancora il connubium.
Quanto alle varie lezioni proposte è da vedersi il Mommsen nella nota al Bruns,
Fontes; ed anche il MUIRHEAD, Histor. Introd., pag. 111, nota 12, ove
proporrebbe la se guente ricostruzione: « nexum mancipiumque forcti sanatisque
idem esto »; pure avrebbe la medesima significazione. Non conosco però che
altri abbia cercato di. la quale 200 161. Del resto, checchè si possa dire di
questa induzione, questo deve certo essere ammesso, che il ius quiritium, il
quale, sebbene comparisca con Roma, pud tuttavia avere le sue radici, in epoca
di gran lunga anteriore, almeno in parte si formò in un periodo di lotta e di
violenza fra gruppi e ceti di persone, che si trovavano in condi zione affatto
diversa, in quanto che alcuni di tali gruppi e ceti già erano pervenuti alla
formazione di consorzii civili ed umani: mentre gli altri ancora vivevano in
uno stato di promiscuità e confusione, che le genti patrizie riputavano
nefario. Non può quindi essere mera viglia, se alcuni dei resti, che giunsero
fino a noi, portino ancora i segnidelle lotte e dei conflitti, che vi furono
fra vincitori e vinti, non che della soggezione e della dipendenza, in cui
erano le classi inferiori. Al modo stesso, che i ruderi delle costruzioni
primitive di mostrano, colla rozzezza e coll'enormità delle loro proporzioni,
quali edifizii in quell'epoca fossero necessarii per ripararsi contro i
cataclismi del suolo: così i resti, che ancora ci rimangono del primitivo ius
qui ritium, in questi vocaboli, che sono sopravvissuti ai tempi, in cui si sono
formati, dimostrano quali specie di vincoli si potessero richiedere per
richiamare da una condizione pressochè nefaria, per usare l’es pressione del
Vico, le moltitudini e le folle ad celebrandam suam socialem naturam. Gli
uomini in questa epoca dovettero sentire l'impotenza loro di fronte ai terrori
della sconvolta natura, ai pe ricoli delle fiere, e agli scontri continui con
genti di origine stra niera, e quindi non poterono preoccuparsi tanto della
loro libertà, quanto sentire il bisogno di ripararsi sotto la protezione di
quelle genti, che prime erano riuscite ad organizzarsi e a fortificarsi sotto
il potere dei loro capi. Cid spiega come l'antico vocabolo di « iobi lare »
abbia potuto significare il gridare salvezza per l'aperta campagna e come i
deboli fossero nella necessità di fare appello alla fede ed alla protezione dei
forti, e disposti ad accettare la posizione portata dal mancipium e dal nexum,
pur di averne la protezione e la difesa. Non era perciò un diritto mite ed
umano e pieno di grada zioni delicate e sottili, che poteva nascere in questi
inizii dell'organiz zazione sociale, sopratutto nei rapporti fra classi, di cui
una era su periore e l'altra inferiore; ma bensi un diritto rozzo e violento,
che risentisse in certo modo della lotta, da cui esso usciva, e che da una
inferire da questa disposizione la condizione giuridica primitiva, in cui si
trovò la plebe di fronte alla città patrizia. - 201 parte avesse l'impronta
della superiorità dei vincitori e dei forti e dall'altra dell'abbiezione, a cui
erano ridotti i vinti ed i deboli (1). 162. Si comprende quindi come in questo
periodo, la manus, armata di lancia, pronta da una parte ad atterrare il
nemico, a seguirlo fuggi tivo e a farlo prigioniero di guerra, e dall'altra
disposta a difendere tutti i proprii dipendenti, potesse presentarsi come
l'espressione più, naturale e più energica ad un tempo per significare il
potere giu. ridico, che spetta al capo di una famiglia sopra tutte le persone,
che da lui dipendono, e per significare eziandio l'unità della famiglia nei
rapporti esteriori. Genti come le italiche, le quali, secondo l'at testazione
di Servio, avevano nella loro ingenua personificazione di tutte le energie
proprie dell'uomo dedicato ad un nume le varie parti del corpo, cioè l'orecchia
alla memoria, la fronte all'ingegno, la destra alla fede, le ginocchia alla
pietà e alla misericordia, perchè abbracciano le ginocchia coloro che implorano,
non avevano che ad applicare il medesimo processo per dedicare la manus ad
espri mere il potere unificatore della famiglia (2). Non era forse la manus che
atterrava il nemico e lo faceva prigioniero di guerra e che intanto proteggeva
moglie, figli, clienti e servi? Non era essa, che riuniva e stringeva la
famiglia nella sua compagine interna, e che serviva a renderla forte e compatta
contro le aggressioni esterne? Intanto però è evidente, che la manus, intesa in
questo significato, poteva solo spettare a quei capi di famiglia, che avevano
serbata intatta la loro autorità di diritto, perchè non erano mai stati sotto (1)
Buona parte di questi concetti trovasi accennata qua e là dal Vico; na è
avvolta in una forma fantastica, proveniente dall'idea preconcetta di voler
conside rare i Romani come i rappresentanti di quell' epoca eroica, che,
secondo le sue teorie, avrebbe susseguito quei tempi,che egli chiama divini, e
preceduto quelli, che egli chiama umani; idea, che finì per condurlo a considerare
come una leggenda tutta la storia primitiva di Roma, fino alla prima guerra
Cartaginese. Ciò però non impedisce che le sue divinazioni, anche non essendo
vere, se applicate a Roma sto rica, possano contenere del vero, se riportate
all'epoca veramente patriarcale ed eroica, che avrebbe preceduta la fondazione
di Roma. In proposito è da vedersi il MORIANI, La filosofia del diritto nel
pensiero dei Giureconsulti romani, Firenze, 1856, pag. 14 e segg., ove parla
dell'origine del diritto e dell'etimologia del vocabolo ius. (2) Servius, In
Aen., 3, 607: « Phisici dicunt esse consecratas singulis numinibus singulas
corporis partes: ut aurem Memoriae, frontem Genio, dexteram Fidei, genda
Misericordiae, unde haec tangunt rogantes. Iure pontificali, si quis flamini
genua fuisset amplexus, eum verberari non licebat.] posti a servitù, e primi
erano pervenuti a fondare una vera organiz zazione sociale. Il concetto quindi
di manus, in quanto è l'unificatore della famiglia e dà alla medesima la
compattezza necessaria per re spingere ogni aggressione, dovette prima formarsi
nei rapporti fra le famiglie, le genti e le classi diverse, che non nei
rapporti interni della famiglia; perchè la causa, che determino questo
irrigidirsi della famiglia, non fu interiore alla medesima, ma bensì esterna,
ossia la necessità di provvedere alla lotta per l'esistenza. Dal momento per
tanto, che il concetto di manus ha un'origine, che potrebbe chia marsi
pressochè esteriore ed internazionale, ne consegue eziandio, che nel conflitto
delle genti il concetto della manus, in quanto indica un potere, che non ebbe
giammai a soccombere sotto la schiavitù, non potè essere applicato che ai capi
delle famiglie patrizie, e non già alla folla e alla moltitudine, di cui erano
circondati gli stabili menti dei padri. Si comprende pertanto, come nel diritto
quiritario primitivo continuamente comparisca la manus, la quale è quella, che
lotta nella manuum consertio; che rivendica nella vindicatio; che trascina il
debitore nella manus iniectio; che distendendosi lascia in libertà lo schiavo
(manu emittit); che obbliga la propria fede nella dextrarum iunctio; e da
ultimo è anche quella, che afferrando il vinto, lo trasmuta in mancipium. Essa
quindi non ha soltanto una significazione relativa alla costituzione interna
della famiglia, ma dap prima ha sopratutto una significazione, quanto ai
rapporti esteriori in cui la famiglia può trovarsi, essendo la manus, che la
rende unita e compatta nel respingere ogni aggressione. Sarà solo più tardi,
che essa verrà a significare il complesso dei poteri giuridici, che ap
partengono ai quiriti, in quanto essi costituiscono una specie di ari stocrazia
fra la moltitudine e la folla, da cui sono circondati. Però almodo stesso, che
la manus in questa significazione è già il frutto di una specie di astrazione,
cosi deve pur dirsi del concetto del qui rite. Senza entrare nell'etimologia
della parola e senza discutere se la medesima venga da quiris lancia, o da
curia, come vorrebbe il Lange; questo è certo che in ogni caso il vocabolo di
quiriti non significa i membri delle genti patrizie individualmente
considerati; ma li indica in quanto appartengono ad uno stesso populus, che ora
ra dunasi nelle curie, ed ora costituisce un esercito. Come tali i qui riti
trovansi in una posizione privilegiata e quindi sono essi sol tanto, a cui
appartiene la manus, come simbolo del diritto quiritario; sono essi soli, che
abbiano le iustae nuptiae; che sappiano consultare gli Dei cogli auspizii; e
che partecipino direttamente al bene fizio delle istituzioni proprie della
città. Malgrado di ciò è improbabile, che nel periodo anteriore alla fondazione
della città, e in quello della città esclusivamente patrizia non intercedano
dei rapporti fra la classe dominante e quelle inferiori, da cui essa è
circondata. Sarebbe tuttavia a meravigliarsi, se in questi rapporti essi si
trattassero alla pari, e se le istituzioni, che dovettero nascere in questa
condizione di cose, non portassero le traccie della disuguaglianza di
condizione, in cui si trovavano le due classi. Il plebeo, che non ha una
posizione giuridica, e che quindi non può offrire garanzia di sorta al patrizio,
quando voglia entrare in rapporto con esso, non può avere altro mezzo che
quello di darsi a mancipio o divincolarsi col nexum, per guisa che, se esso non
paghi, possa essere ridotto alla condizione di mancipio, assoggettandosi cosi
alla manus iniectio. Di qui la conseguenza, che i durissimi concetti del
mancipium, del nexum, della manus iniectio, prima di diventare istituti proprii
del diritto quiritario, in cui presero poi una significazione speciale,
dovettero significare dei rapporti, che si stabilirono fra patriziato e plebe,
prima che entrassero a far parte della stessa comunanza; il che spiega appunto
quel carat tere di soggezione e di dipendenza di una persona ad un'altra, che è
loro inerente. Che anzi, siccome le origini di certi concetti primitivi debbono
talora cercarsi in un periodo anteriore a quello, in cui essi appari scono e
cominciano a prendere una forma determinata e precisa, cosi anche questa
significazione dei vocaboli di mancipium, di nexum, di manus iniectio non è
ancora quella assolutamente pri mitiva; ma conviene cercarne le origini nelle
lotte, che dovettero esistere in epoca più remota fra i vincitori ed i vinti,
fra i con quistatori ed i conquistati. In questa indagine non può esservi altra
luce fuori di quella, che viene dalla significazione diversa, che as sunsero i
vocaboli, di cui si tratta. 164. Nella povertà del linguaggio giuridico
primitivo il vocabolo mancipium ebbe ad assumere significazioni molto diverse,
che però riduconsi a due essenziali; a quelle cioè per cui significa: - o ciò
(1) LANGE, Hist. inter. de Rome, I, pag. 29. 204 che è soggetto al potere del
capo di famiglia – o il modo per trasfe rirlo di una ad altra persona. Nel
primo significato mancipium in dica anzitutto il prigioniero di guerra, stato
ridotto in schiavitù; poi indica eziandio tutto cid, che può essere preso e
assogettato colla manus: quidquid manu capi subdique potest,uthomo, equus, ovis;
infine indica eziandio, allorchè il diritto quiritario è già formato, il
complesso delle persone e delle cose, che dipendono dalla manus del capo di
famiglia. Questa serie di significazioni, che si vengono sempre più estendendo,
contengono in compendio la storia dell'istituzione. Non può esservi dubbio, che
il primo mancipium dovette essere lo schiavo ed il vocabolo era anche acconcio
ad esprimerlo, in quanto che questo era stato veramente manu captum e poi
ridotto in schia vitù; poscia l'analogia lo fece estendere eziandio alle cose e
persone, che erano assoggettate in modo analogo al potere della persona, quali
erano i cavalli e i buoi, allorchè domati cominciavano a dipendere dalla mano
dell'uomo; infine, quando la manus prese la significazione traslata, per cui
essa designa il potere del capo di famiglia, tanto le persone, che le cose
soggette al medesimo, poterono essere indi cate col vocabolo di mancipium.
Giunge però tempo, in cui questo vocabolo sembra per la sua stessa origine
essere disadatto a signi ficare tanto le persone, che le cose soggette al capo
di famiglia, ed in allora esso scompare in questa significazione, ma continua
ancora sempre a mantenersi nella sua significazione primitiva, che era la vera;
come lo dimostrano le disposizionidell'editto degli edili curuli col titolo de
mancipiis vendundis, ove il vocabolo continua sempre a significare lo schiavo. Quanto
al tenore dell'Editto curule vedi Bruns, Fontes, pag. 214. Non potrei ciò
stante ammettere la significazione, che il MUIRHEAD ebbe di recente a proporre
per i vocaboli di mancipium e di mancipatio, colla quale egli direbbe, che
mancipium significa eziandio il potere, ossia la padronanza del manceps, e che
perciò debba ritenersi come sinonimo di manus; donde egli deriva, che mancipare
non deriverebbe da manu capere, ma piuttosto da manum capere (Histor. Introd.).
Oltrecchè questa etimologia non servirebbe veramente a spiegar meglio la
significazione primitiva del vocabolo; parmi eziandio che contraddica all'uso,
che i giureconsulti fecero di questo vocabolo, attribuendo costantemente al
medesimo una significazione passiva, la quale indica piuttosto la soggezione di
una persona o di una cosa, che non il potere che appartiene sulla persona o
cosa soggetta. Noi ve diamo infatti, che mentre occorrono talvolta le
espressioni di habere manum, habere potestatem, habere dominium, i
giureconsulti invece non direbbero mai habere man cipium nel senso di
significare un potere, che spetti ad una persona,al modo stesso - 205 Se non
che il vocabolo mancipium non significa soltanto ciò, che è soggetto al capo di
famiglia, ma indica eziandio il trasferimento, di cui possono essere oggetto le
cose, che entrano a costituirlo. Ciò è dimostrato dall'espressione vigorosa
della legislazione decemvirale, nella quale si dice facere mancipium, facere
nexum, al modo stesso, che direbbesi facere testamentum. Or bene non vi ha
dubbio, che anche il facere mancipium deve avere subito delle trasforma zioni profonde
nel proprio significato. Facere mancipium infatti dovette negli inizii indicare
il darsi o il prendere a mancipio, la dedizione del vinto o la presa del
vincitore, per cui quello viene in tutto ad essere a disposizione di questo.
Ciò è dimostrato da questo che i servi, che erano chiamati mancipia ex eo, quod
ab hostibus manu capiuntur, sono anche chiamati servi dediticii, in quanto che
essi provenivano da una specie di resa o di dedizione del vinto al vin citore.
Cio però non tolse, che il concetto del facere mancipium si applicasse eziandio
a persone libere, che potevano dare se stesse a mancipio, od anche a persone,
che dipendevano da esse, come accadeva nella noxae deditio. Che anzi è molto
probabile, che nel periodo, in cui i plebei non erano ammessi a far parte della
citta dinanza, il solo mezzo, che essi avessero per trovare protezione e
difesa, fosse quello di darsi a mancipio. Infine, allorchè il mancipium prese
quella significazione, eminentemente giuridica, per cui significa il complesso
delle persone e delle cose, soggette al capo di famiglia, anche il facere
mancipium ricevette una larghissima applicazione, per modo che la mancipatio
verrà ad essere come il perno, sovra cui si modellano tutti gli atti, che
modificano in qualche modo il potere del capo di famiglia (2 ). che non
adoperano mai il vocabolo di nexus per indicare il creditore, ma sempre per
designare il debitore. Convien quindi dire, che mancipium significò sempre la
cosa soggetta o la trasmissione della medesima, ed è anche questo il
significato, che ha sempre conservato dipoi, allorquando accade ancora di usare
il vocabolo di mancipio. A ciò si può anche aggiungere, che il vocabolo di
capio nella sua significazione giuridica suole sempre essere accompagnato
dall'ablativo, come accade nell'usucapio, nell'usureceptio e simili. (1) A
questo proposito è notabile il seguente passo di Festo, Vº Quot.: Quot servi
tot hostes in proverbio est, de quo Sinnius Capito existimat esse dictum initio
quot hostes tot servi» quod tot captivi fere ad servitutem adducebantur »,
BRUNS, Fontes, pag. 359. (2) Per la larghissima esplicazione della mancipatio
nel diritto quiritario è da vedersi il Longo, La mancipatio, parte 14, Firenze,
1886. 206 165. Passando ora alla manus iniectio, noi riscontriamo nella
medesima un processo del tutto analogo. Non può esservi dubbio che essa dovette
essere dapprima il modo effettivo, con cui il vinci tore afferrava il vinto, in
base al diritto di guerra e lo riduceva in schiavitù. Il suo concetto quindi
nacque anch'esso nella lotta e nella violenza; ma poscia dai rapporti fra
vincitori e vinti fu tra sportato anche fra le persone, che appartenevano alla
stessa co munanza e significò l'esercizio privato delle proprie ragioni, come
lo dimostra la seguente deffinizione di Servio: manus iniectio di citur,
quotiens, nulla iudicis auctoritate expectata, rem nobis de bitam vindicamus.
Pare però, che quest'esercizio privato delle proprie ragioni, che non si può
conciliare coll'esistenza della pubblica autorità, non fosse riconosciuto dal
diritto quiritario, che in alcuni casi soltanto. Infatti nel diritto quiritario
noi troviamo la manus iniectio in due significazioni. Essa è il modo per
trascinare avanti al magistrato colui che invitato a venirvi siasi rifiutato;
ma in ciò non havvi ancora un esercizio privato delle proprie ragioni, bensì un
mezzo per ottenere la presenza del convenuto avanti al magistrato. La manus
iniectio poi, nella legislazione decemvirale, è anche un mezzo di esecuzione
contro il proprio debitore; ma in questo senso è solo ammessa in alcuni casi,
cioè: contro coloro che o abbiano confes sato il proprio debito (aeris
confessi); contro coloro che siano stati condannati (iudicati); o infine contro
coloro, che si siano ob bligati mediante il nexum (nexi). Ora di queste varie
applicazioni del diritto di esecuzione privata contro il debitore, quella, che
ri guarda gli aeris confessi ed i iudicati, suppone già un intervento
dell'autorità giudiziaria; mentre quella, che riguarda il nexum, ri monta
certamente ad epoca anteriore alla formazione della comu nanza, il che fa
credere che la manus iniectio nelle proprie origini abbia avuto una stretta
attinenza col nexum. Cio miporge quindi occasione di discorrere brevemente di
esso e di dimostrare, che anche l'istituto del nexum è una di quelle
istituzioni primitive, che trovo solo applicazione nei rapporti fra il
patriziato e la plebe, e che poi entró a far parte del diritto quiritario. 166.
Il nexum è certo uno degli istituti, che diffonde una triste aureola sul
diritto primitivo di Roma. La sua origine è ignota; ma si può affermare con
certezza, che essa rimonta ad epoca anteriore alla formazione della comunanza
romana: poichè la tradizione già attribuisce a Servio Tullio dei provvedimenti
diretti a limitare gli effetti, che derivavano da esso. Lo stesso è a dirsi
della legislazione decemvirale, che lo suppone già esistente e si limita a
trattenere in certi confini i maltrattamenti contro il debitore. Fu poi notato
a ragione dal Niebhur, che il nexum con tutti i tristi suoi effetti apparisce soltanto
nei rapporti fra il patriziato e la plebe; per guisa che la sua abolizione si
riduce ad una specie di questione sociale fra le due classi; come è anche
dimostrato da ciò, che Livio consi derd l'abolizione di esso come una vittoria
della plebe sopra il pa triziato. Vero è, che questo fatto può anche essere
spiegato con dire che solo il patriziato era in condizione di fare degli
imprestiti alla plebe, e che perciò esso solo aveva interesse al mantenimento
di questo « ingens vinculum fidei »; ma parmiche il carattere vero di questa
istituzione possa essere più facilmente spiegato, quando si cer chino le cause,
che vi hanno dato origine. Il nexum dovette essere un modo di obbligarsi di
colui, che, non avendo altre garanzie da offrire al proprio creditore,
obbligava direttamente la propria persona. Ora è questa appunto la condizione,
in cui si trovò il plebeo di fronte al patrizio, anteriormente alla
formazionedella comunanza romana, allorchè, sprovvisto di qualsiasi diritto,
non aveva altro mezzo, per trovare protezione o credito, che o di dare a
mancipio se o la fa miglia, o di vincolarsi col nexum. Quello era una specie di
dedizione di se stesso e questa era una specie di ipoteca, che egli consentiva
sulla propria persona. Siccome poi, come si vedrà a suo tempo e come del resto
fu già ritenuto dal Niebuhr, il nexum non obbligava che la persona, e non
attribuiva qualsiasi diritto sui beni di esso; cosi in parte si comprende che
il diritto del creditore sul debitore, sia stato spinto a quelle estreme
esagerazioni, che a noi riescono pressochè inesplicabili (1). 167. Quanto al
vocabolo poi non può esservi dubbio, che esso ebbe ad assumere significazioni
molto diverse. (Liv. VIII, 28, in princ.: « Eo anno plebi romanae velut aliud
initium liber tatis factum est, quod necti desierunt »; e più sotto: « victum
eo die ingens vin culum fidei. Cfr. Niebhur, Hist. Rom., III, pag. 375. Della
portata e degli effetti del nexum, come pure del mancipium, si discorrerà più
sotto; poichè qui importava solo di cercare l'origine dei vocaboli e dei
concetti coi medesimi significati. 208 Anche qui è probabile, che il nexum nella
sua primitiva signifi cazione indicasse veramente i vincoli, a cui
sottoponevasi lo schiavo fuggitivo; ma che poscia dalla significazione
letterale siasi fatto pas saggio alla significazione giuridica. Tuttavia
rimangono ancor sempre le traccie delle due significazioni, in quanto che gli
storici chiamano col vocabolo di nexi, ora quelli che si trovano già condotti
nel car cere privato del debitore, ed ora invece i debitori, che si sono ob
bligati colle forme solenni del nexum. Del resto anche questo vo cabolo, al
pari di quello dimancipium, significa non solo il vincolo fisico o giuridico, a
cui altri si sottopone, ma eziandio l'atto con cui egli contrae il vincolo
stesso (nexum facere). La conclusione intanto viene ad essere cotesta, che
tutti questi istituti più rozzi, che appariscono nel primitivo ius quiritium,
dovet tero aver avuto origine nei rapporti fra i vincitori e i vinti, i quali
trasformati in varia guisa furono poi estesi anche ai rapporti fra il
patriziato e la plebe. Sarebbe insomma anche qui accaduto cið, che pure accadde
delle altre istituzioni del diritto quiritario, che esse si svolsero dapprima
fra le varie genti o almeno fra i diversi capi di gruppo e furono poiapplicate
nei rapporti dei quiriti fra di loro. Al modo istesso, che i concetti di
connubium, di commercium e dell'actio sacramento si spiegarono dapprima fra le
varie genti ed i loro capi, e solo più tardi si svilupparono nel diritto
quiritario; così i concetti del mancipium, del nexum, e della manus iniectio,
dopo essersi formati fra la classe dei vincitori e quella dei vinti, ed essersi
poi applicati ai rapporti fra il patriziato e la plebe, si tra sformarono in
istituzioni proprie del diritto quiritario. Di qui il carattere di rozzezza, di
violenza, inerente ai medesimi, che rese necessaria la loro trasformazione ed
anche il cambiamento dei vo caboli, con cui furono indicati, a misura, che
vennero sempre più pareggiandosi le due classi, dopo che entrarono a far parte
della stessa comunanza civile e politica. 168. Che se, riassumendo, si volesse
ora dare uno sguardo sinte tico a quelle istituzioni esistenti fra le genti
italiche, anteriormente alla fondazione della città, che si vennero
ricostruendo a poco a poco, noi possiamo scorgere fin d'ora, che già si erano
poste le basi fondamentali del diritto pubblico, privato ed internazionale, che
ebbe poi a svolgersi in Roma. Quanto al diritto pubblico infatti, già erasi
elaborato il concetto del potere monarchico, di cui avevasi il modello nel capo
di famiglia; - 209 quello di un elemento aristocratico, che era rappresentato
dal con siglio degli anziani, proprio della gente; e quello infine di un ele
mento popolare e democratico, il quale già aveva cominciato a svolgersi nelle
tribù e a presentare quel dualismo fra patriziato e plebe, che doveva poi ricevere
nella città tutto lo svolgimento, di cui poteva essere capace. Furono questi
elementi che, accomodati alle esigenze della vita civile e politica, servirono
di base alla co stituzione primitiva di Roma e condussero naturalmente allo
svolgi mento dei poteri, che furono attribuiti al re, al senato ed al popolo.
169. Così pure quanto al diritto privato, già erano in pronto gli elementi
diversi, i quali,amalgamandosi insieme, dovevano porre le basi del diritto
civile di Roma. Eravi infatti un diritto proprio delle genti patrizie, che, appoggiandosi
da una parte sull'elemento religioso del fas e dall'altra sopra l'elemento
morale del mos, già aveva dato origine ai concetti fondamentali del connubium,
del commercium e dell'actio sacramento, ed aveva elaborato tutte quelle forme
tradizionali e solenni, in cui si fecero entrare a poco a poco i nuovi rapporti
giu ridici, ai quali diede occasione il formarsi e lo svolgersi della convi
venza civile e politica. Esisteva parimenti, ancorchè solo in via di
formazione, un diritto proprio della comunanza plebea, fondato so pratutto
sull'usus auctoritas, il quale, per essere più semplice nella sua forma, più
alieno dalle solennità, più libero da ogni influenza del passato poteva meglio
adattarsi alle esigenze della vita civile e po litica. Da ultimo già cominciava
ad elaborarsi un diritto, che non poteva dirsi proprio, nè del patriziato, nè
della plebe, mache ten deva a racchiudere in forme rozze e primitive i
rapporti, che inter cedevano fra di essi. Questo diritto era tutto uscito dal
concetto fondamentale della manus, in quanto esprime il potere del capo di
famiglia patrizio, ed aveva dato origine ai concetti del mancipium, del nexum e
della manus iniectio, i quali, debitamente trasformati, si dovranno poi
convertire in altrettanti concetti fondamentali del diritto quiritario. È
quest'ultimo elemento, che attribuisce al ius qui ritium quel carattere di
rozzezza e di forza, che lo contraddistingue. Tuttavia fu esso che, isolando
l'elemento giuridico dall'elemento re ligioso e dal morale, con cui prima
trovavasi confuso, viene a for mare il primo nucleo di quel ius quiritium il
quale, assimilando col tempo istituzioni patrizie e costumanze plebee, finirà
per conver tirsi in un ius civile, che poteva convenire alle due classi, che
erano chiamate a far parte della stessa comunanza civile e politica. C., Le
origini del diritto di Roma. De ultimo, anche per quello che si riferisce a
quei rapporti, che con vocabolo moderno si potrebbero chiamare internazionali,
già erausi poste le basi di un ius belli ac pacis, e si erano elabo rati i
concetti dell'amicitia, dell'hospitium,della societas, e del più importante fra
tutti, che era quello del foedus, il quale poi doveva somministrare il mezzo
per far partecipare più tribù alla stessa vita politica, militare e giuridica,
e per dare cosi origine alla città. Questa parimenti, traendo profitto dagli
istituti della cooptatio, della co lonia, della concessio civitatis sine
suffragio, del municipium, pos sedeva anche i mezzi per accrescere la sua
popolazione e per esten dere il proprio impero. I materiali quindi erano in
pronto: solo rimane a vedersi il pro cesso, col quale Roma, gittandoli tutti
nello stesso crogiuolo, abbia saputo scegliere ciò, che in essi eravi di
vigoroso e di vitale, e sia così riuscita a ricavarne lentamente e gradatamente
la propria co stituzione politica, e quel diritto privato, il quale svolgendosi
sempre sul medesimo modello e sempre arricchendosi di nuovi elementi, finirà
per diventare tale da poter essere accettato da tutte le genti. Intanto una
delle cause, che condurrà a questo risultato, sarà la distanza stessa, a cui
trovansi i due ordini, che debbono insieme con tribuire alla formazione della
città. Sarà tale distanza infatti, che forzerá la costituzione di Roma a
percorrere tutte le gradazioni, di cui possa essere capace, e che obbligherà il
diritto privato di Roma a riconoscere la capacità di diritto ad ogni uomo,
purchè libero. Per tal guisa tutte le gradazioni del senso giuridico, dalle più
semplici e naturali alle più sottili e raffinate, cadranno sotto l'elabo
razione dei giureconsulti, e l'universalità del diritto romano dovrà sopratutto
essere attribuita a ciò, che esso è la più completa e pre cisa espressione di
un complesso di sentimenti eminentemente sociali ed umani, che nacquero e si
svolsero insieme colla convivenza ci vile e politica. - 1 LIBRO II. Roma e le
sue istituzioni nel periodo esclusivamente patrizio ("). CAPITOLO I.
Genesi e carattere della città primitiva. 171. Nella storia non vi ha forse
avvenimento, il quale abbia eser citata maggiore influenza sulle sorti
dell'umanità che il passaggio dall'organizzazione gentilizia alla comunanza
civile e politica. Sotto quest'aspetto non sarà mai abbastanza approfondita la
storia pri mitiva di Roma, perchè non vi ha certamente altro popolo, che abbia
più vivamente sentito, e quindi più profondamente scolpito nelle proprie
istituzioni questa importantissima trasformazione, che (* ) Pervenuto a questo
punto della trattazione, trovomidi fronte ad una lettera tura così copiosa, che
mi sarebbe impossibile di poter indicare la bibliografia, che può riferirsi ad
ogni singolo argomento. Siccome quindi l'intento del libro è quello unicamente
di tentare una ricostruzione delle istituzioni giuridiche e politiche di Roma
primitiva; così mi limitero ad indicare in nota gli autori, di cui prendo in
esame le opinioni, e i passi di antichi scrittori, sui quali si fonda
l'opinione da me sostenuta, e non mi fard anche scrupolo di citare una
traduzione, quando non tenga l'originale, sopratutto di autori tedeschi. Quanto
alla bibliografia, essa potrà essere facilmente trovata nei recenti trattati di
storia del diritto romano, o di introduzione storica allo studio del diritto
romano, quali sono in Francia quelli dell' ORTOLAN, del Bouché -LECLERCQ, del
Maynz, del MISPOULET, del Roblou et Delaunay, del MORLot, ecc.; nel Belgio
quelli del Maynz, del Rivier, del WILLEMS, ecc.; in Ger mania quelli del Bruns,
del BARON, del KARLOWA, del Voigt, dell'HERZOG, ecc.; in Inghilterra quelli del
MUIR EAD e del Roby; e nella nostra Italia quelli del PA DELLETTI-Cogliolo, e
del LANDUCCI, ecc.; trattati, che ho citato già, o che mi occor rerà di citare
in seguito. Mi perdoni il lettore: ma la sola bibliografia, fatta un po ' a
dovere, mi avrebbe assorbito il volume. 212 accadde nell'organizzazione sociale.
A ciò si aggiunge, che lo spirito conservatore del popolo Romano ha fatto si,
che esso, modellando e svolgendo la città primitiva, abbia sempre conservato le
traccie delle istituzioni preesistenti, e dei periodi diversi, per cui passò la
nuova formazione. Di qui la conseguenza, che quando si riesca a penetrare il processo
logico, stato seguito dai Romani nella fondazione della loro città, si potranno
determinare con rigore geometrico non solo l'orientamento materiale di essa, e
il modo, con cui furono costrutte le sue mura; ma eziandio la serie di quei
concetti fondamentali, che, preparati in un periodo anteriore, ricevettero poi
nella città tutto lo sviluppo, di cui potevano essere capaci. Già si è veduto,
come nella organizzazione gentilizia siasi svolta la famiglia colla sua
distinzione fra i padroni ed i servi, la gente con quella fra patroni e
clienti, e infine la tribù con quella fra patrizii e plebei. È da questo punto
dell'evoluzione sociale e da questo dualismo costante, che incomincia la
formazione della città. Trattasi pertanto di vedere in qual modo, con questi
elementi, che si erano naturalmente formati e sovrapposti gli uni agli altri,
abbia potuto essere iniziata la convivenza civile e politica. Fu questa una
continuazione del medesimo processo formativo dell'organizzazione gentilizia, o
fu invece il risultato di qualche nuova energia o forza operosa, che si
introdusse nell'organizzazione sociale? 172. Le teorie, che furono escogitate
in proposito dagli studiosi della storia primitiva di Roma, sono molte in
numero e diverse nei risultati a cui giunsero; quindi per noi sarà necessità di
arrestarsi alle principali. Per il Mommsen, il Sumner Maine, e per la maggior
parte degli autori moderni, la città primitiva avrebbe nei proprii esordii un
ca rattere eminentemente patriarcale, e non sarebbe in certo modo, che un
ulteriore svolgimento della stessa organizzazione gentilizia; essa sarebbe un
edifizio, le cui proporzioni si sono fatte più grandi, ma che è foggiato sempre
sul medesimo modello. A quel modo, che la famiglia ingrandita, dando origine a
diramazioni diverse, avrebbe costituita la gente, e che le genti, riunendosi
insieme, avrebbero dato origine alle tribù; cosi l'aggregazione delle tribù in
un numero determinato, che sembra essere diverso secondo i varii popoli,
avrebbe dato origine alla civitas. Afferma pertanto il Mommsen, che la famiglia
e la gente non solo avrebbero somministrati gli elementi, da cui fu costituita,
ma anche il modello, sovra cui sarebbesi fog --- - - 213 giata la comunanza
civile e politica. Il re della città sarebbesi mo dellato sul capo di famiglia,
e avrebbe i poteri patriarcali al mede simo spettanti; il senato non sarebbe
che un consiglio di anziani, come lo prova il nome di patres, dato per tanto
tempo ancora ai senatori, e compierebbe nella città quella medesima funzione,
che il tribunale domestico compieva nella famiglia, e il consiglio degli
anziani nella gente e nella tribù; il populus non sarebbe che la riu nione
delle gentes, per guisa che sarebbe cittadino ogni individuo, che appartenga ad
una di tali gentes; e da ultimo il territorio ro mano comprenderebbe i
territorii riuniti, che appartenevano alle varie gentes, le quali pertanto
sarebbero incorporate nello Stato nella condizione stessa, in cui prima si
trovavano, e con tutte le fa miglie, che entravano a costituirle (1). Tale a un
dipresso sarebbe eziandio la teoria del Sumner Maine, il quale si limita a dire,
che come la tribù era stata una riunione di gentes, cosi la città era dovuta
all'incorporazione di varie tribù (2). Il Lange invece, mentre si studia in
tutti i modi per dimostrare, che lo Stato e il suo ordi namento è fondato sulla
famiglia, e che il diritto pubblico di Roma sarebbe in certo modo uscito dal
seno del diritto privato, e sareb besi modellato sul medesimo, viene poi a
riconoscere, che la città primitiva è già fondata sopra una specie di contratto,
il quale avrebbe modificato i poteri patriarcali del re, e al principio dell'e
redità avrebbe fatto sottentrare quello dell'elezione (3 ). Il Jhering invece
scorge nella costituzione primitiva di Roma un carattere essenzialmente
militare. Per lui il re sarebbe un condottiero, un capitano, e il suo potere
sarebbe, in sostanza, un militare im perium, destinato sopratutto a mantenere
la disciplina nell'esercito, e percid accompagnato dal ius gladii; la curia da
conviria sa rebbe una riunione di uomini armati, che si chiamano quiriti da
quiris, asta, che è il contrassegno del potere aimedesimi spettante; il populus
romanus quiritium sarebbe l'assemblea complessiva dei guerrieri, portatori di
lancia; e infine le gentes stesse, in cui egli ritiene ancora che si dividano
le curiae, sarebbero gruppi naturali, basati bensì sulla discendenza, ma già
raffazzonati secondo le esi (1) Mommsen, Histoire Romaine. Trad. DeGuerle.
Paris, 1882, I, pag. 77 et suiv. (2 ) SUMNER MAINE, L'ancien droit. Trad.
Courcelle Seneuil. Paris, 1874, pag. 121. (3) Lange, Histoire intérieure de
Rome. Trad. Berthelot et Didier, Paris, 1885, pag. 37. 214 - genze di un
esercito; donde quel numero fisso di trenta curiae, in cui sarebbe ripartito il
popolo primitivo di Roma, le quali poi sareb bero suddivise in trecento gentes.
A queste vuolsi eziandio aggiungere la teoria, così splendidamente esposta dal
Fustel de Coulanges, secondo la quale quella religione, che avrebbe fondata la
famiglia e la proprietà, la gente e la tribù, sarebbe pur quella, che avrebbe
fondata e cementata la primitiva città. La civitas pertanto sarebbe per lui
l'associazione religiosa e politica delle famiglie e delle tribù; mentre l'urbs
sarebbe il luogo di riunione, il domicilio, e sopratutto il santuario di questa
associa zione, nella quale ogni istituzione assumerebbe un carattere essen
zialmente religioso. Non è a dubitarsi, che queste varie opinioni contengano
tutte alcun che di vero, e che ognuna possa invocare delle analogie e degli
argomenti, che le servano di appoggio; ma intanto ciascuna di esse,
collocandosi ad un punto di vista esclusivo, mal pud riuscire a spie gare in
modo coerente la natura cosi varia e complessa della costi tuzione primitiva di
Roma: il cui concetto sembra sbocciare da una sintesi potente, la quale non può
altrimenti essere ricostruita, che riportandoci nell'ambiente stesso, in cui
essa ebbe a formarsi. È questo il motivo, per cui è impossibile spiegare quel
carattere di unità e di varietà ad un tempo, con cui Roma compare nella storia,
senza seguire la lenta e progressiva formazione della città, e tener conto
delle necessità reali ed effettive, a cui le genti primitive cer carono di
soddisfare, creando la comunanza civile e politica. Or bene io non dubito di
affermare che, collocandosi a questo punto di vista, apparisce fino
all'evidenza, che la città per le po polazioni latine non può essere
considerata come una continuazione del processo formativo dell'organizzazione
gentilizia prima esistente; ma inizia un nuovo ordine di cose sociali, e segue
un indirizzo (1) V. IHERING, L'esprit du droit romain. Trad. Maulenaere. Paris,
1880, I, $ 20, pag. 246 e segg.; dove mette molto bene in evidenza il carattere
militare della primitiva costituzione romana, e l'influenza che esso esercitò
anche sullo svolgersi del suo diritto; alla quale opinione in parte anche si
accosta lo SchweGLER, Rö mische Geschichte, I, pag. 523. (2) FUSTEL DE
COULANGES, La cité antique. Paris, 1876. Liv. III, Chap. IV, p. 155. È però a
notarsi, che l'autore è a un tempo fra quelli, che a ragione insistono sul
carattere confederativo della città primitiva. Cfr. pag. 147. 215.
compiutamente diverso, il quale doveva logicamente condurre alla dissoluzione
dell'organizzazione sociale preesistente. Per verità si è veduto più sopra,
come le popolazioni latine, che avevano preceduta la fondazione di Roma, già
fossero pervenute ai concetti dell'urbs, del populus, della civitas. Che anzi
tali concetti, per le popolazioni del Lazio, erano già stati il frutto di una
lunga evoluzione. Esse avevano cominciato dal costruire dei siti fortificati
(arces, oppida ), in cui le comunanze rurali potessero cercare rifugio nei
momenti di pericolo, e in cui potessero ricoverarsi coi proprii greggi e coi
proprii armenti in un'epoca, in cui erano quotidiane le scorrerie e le depredazioni
nei rispettivi territorii delle varie co munanze. Il primo bisogno pertanto, a
cui le genti del Lazio ave vano cercato di soddisfare, era stato quello di
provvedere alla co mune difesa. Poscia, siccome la sicurezza è condizione, che
favorisce gli scambi ed i commerci, così fu naturale, che, accanto a questi
luoghi fortificati, si siano formati dei siti (fora ), a cui le genti
convenivano per scopo di commercio, e dove, occorrendo, si tratta vano anche le
alleanze e le paci. Col tempo infine questa mede sima località apparve anche
sede opportuna così per l'amministra zione della giustizia, che per la
trattazione di quegli affari, che riguardassero l'interesse delle varie
comunanze (conciliabula ) (1). Per genti poi, in cui era vivo il sentimento
della religione, era naturale, che questa comune fortezza e questo luogo di
convegno (comitium ) fossero posti sotto la protezione di una divinità, non
propria di questa o di quella gente, ma comune alle varie genti; e fu anche in
questa guisa, che le menti giunsero a concepire una reli gione collettiva al di
sopra di quella propria delle singole famiglie e genti. 174. Per tal modo il
concetto della città non sboccið di un tratto, ma ebbe ad essere provato e
riprovato in varie guise sotto forma di arces, di oppida, di fora, di
conciliabula, di comitia, e infine di urbes; e fu soltanto, allorchè questa
lenta costruzione ebbe ad essere compiuta, che i riti, secondo cui le città
dovevano essere fon date e la loro popolazione doveva essere ripartita,
assunsero un (1) Questa idea, che è fondamentale nella presente trattazione,
ebbe ad essere accennata e dimostrata più sopra, nei suoi varii aspetti, nel
lib. I, ai numeri 5, 14, 66, 99. - 216 - carattere sacro e religioso, per modo
che ogni fondazione di città ebbe ad essere accompagnata da cerimonie religiose.
L'urbs venne così ad essere il frutto di una lunga evoluzione, che già erasi
inco minciata in seno alla stessa organizzazione gentilizia. Essa per tanto,
fin dai suoi primordii, non si presenta sotto l'aspetto di una aggregazione di
gruppi gentilizii, come vorrebbero il Mommsen e gli autori sopra citati; ma
piuttosto come il frutto di una specie di selezione, per cui dal seno stesso
dell'organizzazione gentilizia, si viene sceverando ed isolando tutto ciò, che
si riferisce alla vita pub blica. Quindi la città primitiva viene ad apparire
come un centro e un focolare di vita pubblica, fra varie comunanze di
villaggio, la cui vita domestica e patriarcale continua a svolgersi nei vici e
nei pagi. Di qui la conseguenza, che se essa sia materialmente consi derata,
cioè come urbs, non si presenta, nelle proprie origini, come la riunione delle
abitazioni private; mapiuttosto come la riunione in una orbita sacra degli
edifizi, aventi pubblica destinazione, come la fortezza, il santuario comune,
la dimora del re (custos urbis ) e dei sacerdoti (sacerdotes populi), il luogo (forum
) ove si tiene il mercato e si am ministra la giustizia, il sito ove si tengono
le riunioni (comitia ) per deliberazioni di pubblico interesse; donde la curia,
il qual vocabolo designa tanto il luogo di riunione, quanto il complesso delle
persone che vi si riuniscono. Che se poi la città primitiva sia riguardata
negli ele menti, che entrano a costituirla, essa non è più l'organizzazione
delle gentes o delle tribù, nelle quali si comprendevano anche le donne, i
vecchi ed i fanciulli; ma è solo il complesso di quegli uomini, ricavati dalle
gentes e dalle tribù, che possano aver partecipazione attiva alla vita pubblica;
di quegli uomini cioè, che possano difendere la cosa pubblica come soldati
(iuniores), o che col proprio consiglio possano giovare alla medesima nelle
deliberazioni, che la riguardano (se niores). L'urbs insomma è il risultato di
una selezione, in virtù della quale si raccolgono in uno stesso sito tutti gli
edifizi, che hanno pubblica destinazione; il populus è una selezione, per cui
fra i membri delle gentes si organizzano, in esercito ed in comizii ad un tempo,
coloro, che siano in età e in condizione di provvedere alla difesa ed
all'interesse comune; la civitas infine, è quel rapporto speciale, che
intercede fra le persone, che compongono il populus, in quanto esse
appartengono alla medesima cittadinanza, e parteci pano alla stessa vita
politica e militare. La città latina pertanto, e quindi anche Roma, che è un esemplare
tipico della medesima, anzichè essere un'aggregazione di gentes e di tribus,
corrisponde invece a un nuovo aspetto di vita sociale: cioè al nascere ed allo
svolgersi di una comune vita poli tica, frammezzo a popolazioni rurali, che
continuano ancora a svol gere la loro vita domestica nelle comunanze
patriarcali. Allorchè essa compare, quella organizzazione gentilizia, che aveva
prima com piuto le funzioni di associazione domestica e politica ad un tempo,
si viene biforcando: mentre la vita privata continua a spiegarsi nelle pareti
domestiche, ed in gruppi concentrati sotto l'autorità del capo di famiglia, la
vita politica invece prende a svolgersi nella piazza e nel foro, e dà cosi
origine a quelle discussioni e a quelle lotte, che costituiscono la vita e il
movimento della città. Di qui la conseguenza, che la città, dopo aver ricavato
gli elementi, che entrano a costituirla, dalle comunanze che la circondano,
finisce per preparare la via alla estinzione dell'organizzazione gentilizia, e
sopratutto di quelle gradazioni di essa, che prima compievano eziandio una
funzione politica, quali sarebbero la gente, la tribù e la clientela. Le
istituzioni invece, che colla sua formazione vengono ad affermarsi e a
costituire le due basi dell'organizzazione sociale, sono i due elementi
estremi, cioè: la famiglia da una parte, la quale finisce per richiamare a sè
medesima tutto quello, che si riferisce alla vita domestica; e la città
dall'altra, poichè essa, essendo la meta e l'aspirazione comune, tende ad
attirare nella propria cerchia tutte le energie naturali e sociali, che possono
conferire a darle forza e con sistenza. Di qui la conseguenza, che le due
figure preponderanti, negli inizii della città, vengono ad essere il pater
familias, il quale è il solo, che abbia piena capacità di diritto, ed il
populus, il quale richiama a sè tutti gli elementi vigorosi e vitali, che
esistono nelle comunanze, che colla propria federazione hanno dato origine alla
città. Siccome perd l'opera si viene compiendo gradatamente; cosi sarà
necessario un lungo svolgimento, prima che la città si possa affatto spogliare
di quelle forme, che essa ricava ancora dall'orga nizzazione gentilizia, e
prima che la famiglia possa perdere quel carattere pressochè civile e politico,
che essa aveva assunto durante il periodo gentilizio. 176. Si può quindi
conchiudere, che il processo formativo della organizzazione gentilizia e quello
della città si avverano in guisa com piutamente diversa, e sono avviati in
senso pressochè contrario ed opposto. - 218 Mentre il processo formativo
dell'organizzazione gentilizia, in tutte le sue gradazioni, consiste in una
stratificazione di gruppi natu rali, che si sovrappongono gli uni agli altri, e
intanto continuano sempre ad essere foggiati sul medesimo modello, che è quello
della famiglia patriarcale; la città invece non deve più la sua esistenza ad un
processo di aggregazione, ma ad un processo, che potrebbe chiamarsi
diselezione. Essa non comprende più tutta la vita sociale, come la tribù; ma
tende invece ad isolare l'elemento giuridico, po litico e militare dagli altri
aspetti di vita sociale, che si spiegavano strettamente uniti, e pressochè
confusi gli uni cogli altri nell'orga nizzazione patriarcale. Di qui derivano
alcune importantissime conseguenze. – Mentre l'organizzazione gentilizia, per
quanto abbia già in sè qualche cosa di artificiale, in quanto che in essa la
famiglia deve anche compiere funzioni politiche, può tuttavia ancora
considerarsi come una pro duzione naturale, come quella che è composta di
gruppi uniformi, che si sovrappongono gli uni agli altri, e il cui vincolo,
vero o supposto, è pur sempre quello della discendenza da un antenato comune;
la città invece viene già ad essere il frutto dell'accordo, del contratto,
della federazione insomma di varii elementi, che si associano per costituirsi
un centro comune di vita politica, e per provvedere così alla comune utilità ed
alla comune difesa. Mentre l'organizzazione gentilizia, comprendendo persone,
che si suppongono derivare da un medesimo antenato, tende a mantenere una
proprietà comune e collettiva; la città invece, uscendo dalla federazione e
dall'accordo, tende ad assicurare ai singoli capi di famiglia le possessioni e
le terre, che loro appartengono, solo se parandone quel complesso di beni e di
interessi, che riguarda l'uni versalità dei cittadini, il quale costituisce
così un patrimonio co mune, che col tempo sarà indicato col vocabolo di res
publica. Mentre infine il principio informatore dell'organizzazione gentilizia
consiste nell'eredità e nella discendenza, per guisa che in essa tutto tende ad
acquistare un carattere ereditario; il principio in vece informatore della
comunanza civile e politica, appena essa compare, viene ad essere quello della
capacità e dell'elezione. Tutto questo svolgimento della città primitiva, che
solo erasi iniziato presso le popolazioni latine, potè spingersi con Roma a
tutte le conseguenze, di cui poteva essere capace. Allorchè essa compare, il
periodo di incubazione della città può 219. già ritenersi compiuto, e quindi le
cerimonie, che ne accompagnano la fondazione, già hanno assunto un carattere
sacro e religioso. È cogli auspizii, che incomincia la fondazione di Roma, per
conoscere a quale dei due fratelli debba essere affidata la fondazione e il reg
gimento della città. Tuttavia la Roma Palatina, finchè è contenuta. nei limiti
dello stabilimento romuleo, non pud ancora chiamarsi una vera e propria città;
ma è piuttosto lo stabilimento fortificato di una aggregazione di genti, dedita
di preferenza alle armi, che è la tribù dei Ramnenses. Tutto è ancora
patriarcale nella medesima; il suo re, che è il sacerdote, il capitano, e che
non è ancora eletto, ma è designato dalla propria nascita e dagli auspizii; i
suoi anziani, i quali non sono che i padri delle genti, che entrano a
costituire la tribù; e infine anche il suo populus, che è composto ancora di
persone, che si ritengono unite dal vincolo della comune discendenza, come lo
dimostra la loro stessa denominazione di Ramnenses, derivata dal nome del
proprio capo. Non è quindi appena stabilitosi sul Palatino, che Romolo, secondo
la tradizione, procede alla costituzione politica della città. Secondo Livio,
ciò accade soltanto dopo la guerra coi Sabini, e secondo Ci cerone aspettasi
perfino la morte di Tito Tazio, capo dei medesimi(1 ). È da questo momento, che
la città assume un carattere federale e pressochè contrattuale. Le singole
tribù infatti continuano a risie dere ciascuna sopra il proprio colle, e ad
avere delle proprie forti ficazioni; ma è il Capitolium, che mutasi nella
fortezza delle varie comunanze, come pure gli edifizii pubblici si vengono
raccogliendo nel sito, che trovasi fra il Palatino ed il Capitolino. È quivi
che è collocato il locus Vestae, la domus regia Numae, le novae cu riae, da non
confondersi colle curiae veteres (2 ), il cui sito era sul Palatino, edifizii
tutti, che, secondo il rito, dovevano trovarsi nel cuore stesso della città.
Non consta quindi che le tribù confederate abbiano abbandonate le proprie
possessioni e le proprie terre; ma ciò, che esse ebbero comune fu soltanto la
città ed il governo di essa, come lo dimostra il fatto, che secondo la
tradizione vi sarebbe stato un breve periodo di tempo, in cui Romolo e Tazio
avrebbero (Livio, I, 13; Cic., de Rep. II, 8. Cfr. più sopra, i numeri 85, 86.
« Novae curiae (scrive Festo) proxime compitum Fabricium aedificatae sunt, quod
parum amplae erant veteres a Romulo factae ». Tuttavia vi restarono an cora
sette curie, che continuarono a compiere i loro sacra nel sito antico (Bruns,
Fontes, pag. 346 ). 220 regnato contemporaneamente: il che significa, che
ciascuno di essi avrebbe conservato la qualità di capo della propria tribù. Non
è quindi meraviglia, se la città primitiva presenti ancora per qualche tempo le
traccie dell'organizzazione gentilizia, perchè il trapasso dalla semplice tribù
ad una vera e propria città si operò solo gra datamente. Intanto però la
trasformazione viene ad essere iniziata e proseguita senz'interruzione fin da
quel momento, in cui al vin. colo della discendenza si sostituisce quello della
federazione e del l'accordo, e alla trasmessione ereditaria sottentra il
principio del l'elezione. 178. A ciò si aggiunge, che Roma, fin dai proprii
esordii, si trovo in una condizione diversa da quella delle altre città latine,
da cui trovavasi circondata. Essa infatti non costitui soltanto un centro di
vita pubblica, frammezzo a varie comunanze rurali; ma diventò ben presto un
centro di vita urbana, contrapposta alla vita rustica dei campi. I suoi primi
fondatori, pur conservando i proprii agri genti lizii, avevano ottenuto nel
recinto stesso della città uno spazio di terra, ove avevano potuto costruirsi
una casa, circondata da un orto. Per tal guisa in Roma non eravi soltanto
l'elemento, che conveniva nei giorni di festa, o di pubbliche riunioni, o per
causa di fiera e di mercato; ma eravi una parte eziandio, e questa era quella
dell'antico patriziato, che, pur conservando la propria dimora gentilizia,
aveva posta sede permanente dentro la città, o in prossimità di essa. Fu in
questa guisa, che Roma diventò ben presto, secondo l'espressione del Mommsen,
l'emporio del Lazio, e che, dopo aver cominciato, al pari delle altre città
latine, dall'essere un centro di vita pub blica fra diverse comunanze,
cambiossi ben presto eziandio in un centro urbano, la cui vita si contrappose a
quella dei campi, e venne cosi accrescendosi costantemente, mediante
quell'attrazione, che i centri urbani esercitano anche oggi sulle popolazioni,
da cui tro vansi circondati. È questo che spiega come, durante lo stesso periodo
regio, Roma da sola già potesse conchiudere un foedus aequum con tutta la
confederazione latina, e come l'intento costante dei re sia stato quello di
estenderne la cerchia per guisa da comprendere in essa anche le abitazioni
private dei cittadini. Intanto agli altri dua lismi, che presenta Roma fin dai
proprii inizii, debbe anche aggiun gersi quello, per cuidistinguesi la vita
urbana dalla vita rustica; come lo dimostra il fatto che il patriziato romano
ha serbata sempre la consuetudine di passare un periodo di tempo fra le mura
della città, 221 e un altro invece alla campagna (ruri), frammezzo alle proprie
pos sessioni gentilizie: consuetudine, che anche oggi può dirsi mantenuta dal
patriziato romano. Di qui la conseguenza, che Roma, in una lunga e lenta
evoluzione, poté compiere in ogni sua parte quello svolgimento, che solo erasi
iniziato presso le altre popolazioni latine. Essa riusci a sceverare la vita
pubblica dalla privata, l'elemento sacro dal pro fano, la vita urbana dalla
vita rustica, la vita militare dalla vita civile; ed effigid questi
atteggiamenti diversi della vita sociale ed umana con un linguaggio così
efficace e scultorio, che nessun'altra città può in questa parte competere con
essa. Di queste varie distin zioni, quella, che cominciò ad effettuarsi fin dal
periodo di Roma esclusivamente patrizia, fu la distinzione fra la vita pubblica
e la vita privata; mentre la distinzione fra l'elemento sacro ed il profano
cominciò solo ad operarsi, allorchè la plebe, che non era partecipe del culto
gentilizio, fu anche ammessa a far parte della cittadinanza romana; e da ultimo
la distinzione fra la popolazione rustica ed urbana, solo prese a farsi
evidente, allorchè la città si accorse di essere in parte dominata dalla turba
forense. Infine il dualismo fra la vita militare e la vita civile è anche uno
di quelli, che appariscono costantemente nella storia di Roma, e che rimontano
fino agli inizii di essa. Il suo populus è un'assem blea ed un esercito ad un
tempo; il suo magistrato ha l'imperium domi, militiaeque; i suoi cittadini
hanno un periodo di età, in cui partecipano al servizio attivo, e un altro, in
cui entrano a formare l'esercito di riserva; gli atti stessi più importanti
della vita, quale sarebbe, ad esempio, il testamento, possono farsi in guisa
diversa, secondo che trattisi di cittadini in tempo di pace, o di soldati in
procinto di venire a battaglia; la quale distinzione poi mantiensi co stante
per modo, che anche con Giustiniano il testamento pud distin guersi in comune
ed in militare. Per tal modo il cittadino di Roma è uomo di toga e di spada ad
un tempo, e si acconcia alle esigenze della pace e a quelle della guerra (rerum
dominos, gentemque togatam ). 180. Sopratutto qui importa di mettere in
evidenza quel dua lismo, che colla formazione della città venne ad introdursi
fra la vita pubblica e la privata; in quanto che fu questo il grande intento, a
cui si ispirò Roma primitiva, e a cui accennano costantemente i 222 poeti
latini, i quali non trovano espressione più efficace per indicare la corruzione
del costume, e il perdersi delle buone tradizioni, che l'accennare alla
confusione della cosa pubblica colla privata (1). È questo il dualismo
veramente fondamentale, che, una volta in trodotto, finisce per riverberarsi,
con un processo logico non mai in terrotto, in una quantità di altri dualismi,
che compariscono costan temente nelle stesse circortanze sociali, e che
potrebbero essere paragonati ad una voce, che con gradazioni diverse viene ad
es sere ripercossa e ripetuta dall'eco. 181. Per verità è ovvio il considerare,
come in seguito alla forma zione della città, accanto alla gentilitas, che era
il rapporto, che stringeva i varii membri dell'organizzazione gentilizia, si
svolga la civitas, la quale è il rapporto, che unisce coloro, che appartengono
alla stessa comunanza militare e politica. Quindi è, che alla distin zione fra
liberi e servi, fra gentiles e gentilicii, viene ad aggiun gersi e ad
acquistare un'importanza sempre maggiore quella fra cives e peregrini. Cosi
pure, accanto ai genera hominum, che sono sparsi nei pagi e nei vici, e che
comprendono senza distinzione tutti coloro, che si suppongono discendere da un
medesimo antenato, si svolge il concetto del populus, che dapprima non
comprende ogni ordine di persone, ma solo il complesso degli uomini validi ed
ar mati, che col braccio e col consiglio possono partecipare alla difesa ed al
governo della cosa pubblica. Procedendo ancora innanzi, accanto al concetto
della res fami liaris, che comprende il complesso degli interessi privati di
una de terminata persona, si esplica il concetto della res publica, il quale,
per essere più astratto, compare più tardi, che non quello del popu lus; ma
finisce anch'esso per esprimere con potenza ed efficacia il complesso degli
interessi comuni alla intiera città, ed a tutto il popolo (res populi). Intanto
così la res familiaris, come la res pu blica debbono avere un'autorità che le
governi, e mentre questa per la famiglia sarà indicata col vocabolo di manus,
nella sua signi ficazione più larga, per la repubblica invece sarà indicata col
vo cabolo di publica potestas. Che anzi i due poteri sono cosi distinti (1) Per
dimostrare l'importanza, che nel concetto romano ha la distinzione fra il
pubblico e il privato, basti citare il Trinummus di Plauto, questa commedia,
così profondamente morale, in cui, ogni qualvolta occorre una censura contro i
corrotti costumi, si lamenta sempre questo mescersi del pubblico col privato.
223 fra di loro, che la subordinazione più estesa nel seno della famiglia non
toglie, che altri possa esercitare tutti i suoi diritti come cit tadino, e
partecipare come tale agli onori ed alle magistrature. La distinzione poi, che
è nella natura dei rapporti, viene natu ralmente a riflettersi eziandio nel
diritto, che è chiamato a gover narli. Di qui la distinzione che, iniziata fin
dalla formazione della città, viene col tempo facendosi sempre più netta e
precisa fra il diritto pubblico ed il diritto privato; il quale ultimo, secondo
il con cetto romano, non deve già essere soffocato ed assorbito dal diritto
pubblico, ma trovasi invece collocato sotto la tutela e la protezione di esso.
Non può quindi essere ammesso il concetto del Lange, che in parte è anche
quello del Mommsen, secondo cui il diritto pubblico verrebbe in certo modo a
modellarsi sul diritto privato: poichè il processo che si segui in Roma si
avverd invece in senso contrario ed opposto. Non fu il diritto pubblico, che si
modello sopra il pri vato; ma fu il diritto privato, che venne svolgendosi in
quella guisa e in quei confini, che erano consentiti dalla costituzione
politica della città. Quindi è che il diritto privato di Roma non si formo di
un tratto, ma venne svolgendosi gradatamente, a misura che le esigenze della
vita civile fecero sentire il bisogno del suo ricono scimento. Ciò ci è
dimostrato dal fatto, che fin dalle origini di Roma noi possiamo trovare poste
le basi di tutto il diritto pubblico di Roma, mentre la vera elaborazione del
diritto civile romano, co mune alle due classi del patriziato e della plebe,
incomincia solo più tardi. Prima si fondò la città, e poi si pensò alla
formazione del suo diritto, ed è anche questo uno dei motivi, per cui il
diritto di Roma potè riuscire tipico ed esemplare per tutti i popoli. Intanto,
in prosecuzione del medesimo processo, anche la legge, che è l'espressione
delle volontà riunite e concordi, viene a distin guersi in les privata ed in
lex publica, di cui quella esprime l'accordo di due o più contraenti, mentre la
lex publica invece è l'espressione della volontà collettiva del popolo, che si
impone alla volontà dei singoli individui. Anche i sacra vengono a subire la
medesima distinzione; la quale pure si verifica per cid, che si rife [ La
distinzione fra la lex publica e la lex privata è accennata più volte da Garo
in formole, che da lai ci furono conservate. Comm. I, 3; II, 104; III, 174. Una
delle modificazioni state introdotte dal MOMMSEN nell'ultima edizione,
Friburgi, 1887, da lui curata del Bruns, Fontes iuris romani antiqui, fu quella
di intito larne il capo terzo: Leges publicae populi romani post XII Tabulas
latae. 224 - risce agli auspicia (1). Lo stesso infine deve dirsi dei crimina,
i quali, a misura che si vengono delineando, sono pure richiamati alla
distinzione fondamentale di publica e di privata, secondo che il danno, che ne
deriva, e quindi la prosecuzione di essi appar tenga ai singoli individui,
oppure colpisca ed interessi l'intiera co munanza; distinzione, che riflettesi
eziandio nei iudicia, i quali fin da Servio Tullio cominciano a dividersi in
iudicia publica e pri vata. A queste si potrebbero aggiungere ancora molte
altre distin zioni, che son tutte il riverbero di un medesimo concetto, che una
volta accettato percorre l'intiera vita sociale e lascia dapertutto le traccie
del suo passaggio. È in questo senso, che le proprietà si distinguono in due
categorie, indicate coi vocaboli di ager pri vatus e di ager publicus; che i
rapporti stessi, che possono correre fra cittadini e stranieri, subiscono la
stessa distinzione, cosicchè la societas, l'amicitia, l'hospitium, il foedus si
distinguono anche essi in pubblici e in privati. Non è quindi meraviglia, se
parlisi eziandio di costume pubblico e privato, di virtù pubbliche e private, e
se la distinzione si inoltri nei particolari più minuti della vita, co sicchè
anche i servi stessi si distinguono in publici e privati, e chiamasi publicus
l'equus, che è somministrato dallo Stato agli equites, che vengono così ad
essere denominati equo publico. 182. Conviene quindi ammettere, che la
distinzione dovesse es sere profondamente sentita, se essa lasciò le proprie
traccie in qual siasi argomento. Non occorre poi di notare, che l'esplicazione
dia lettica dei due concetti, che qui si compendia in pochi tratti, dovette
naturalmente essere il frutto di una lunga evoluzione; ma se questa potè
accadere colla fondazione della città, mentre prima non erasi avverata, la
causa di un tal fatto deve trovarsi in ciò, che la città non si propose di
agglomerare genti e famiglie, ma intese fin dapprincipio a sceverare la vita
pubblica dalla privata. Che se si volesse spingere più oltre lo sguardo sarebbe
anche facile il dimostrare, che la formazione della città cooperò eziandio allo
svol gersi di sentimenti e di affetti, che prima non riuscivano a sceverarsi
(1) Quanto alla distinzione dei sacra publica ac privata, è da vedersi Festo,
vu Publica sacra (Bruns, Fontes pag. 358), stato già citato a pag. 43, nota nº
3. Quanto alla distinzione poi fra gli auspicia publica e gli auspicia privata,
è da vedersi Mommsen, Le droit pubblic romain. Trad. Girard. Paris, 1887, I,
pag. 101, cogli autori ivi citati in nota. 225 dagli affetti domestici e
patriarcali. Fu infatti la città, che, accanto agli affetti di famiglia ed al
culto per gli antenati, suscitò l'affetto per la propria terra, e il culto per
coloro, che si sacrificavano per essa, e quell'illimitato amore di patria, che
informa tutta la storia e tutta la letteratura di Roma, e che fece esclamare al
cittadino ro mano: dulce et decorum est pro patria mori. Fu essa parimenti, che
accanto al culto per i mores maiorum riusci a svolgere il concetto di una
legge, espressione della volontà comune, che doveva a tutti essere nota, e
costituire in certo modo la base e il fonda mento della comunanza civile. Fu
essa ancora, che, accanto alle tradizioni, che si serbavano gelosamente nelle
famiglie e nelle genti e si trasmettevano di generazione in generazione, diede
origine a quella narrazione dei fasti e degli avvenimenti notevoli per la città,
da cui doveva poi uscire la storia; al modo stesso che, accanto al comando del
padre ed alla persuasione degli anziani, fece svolgere l'arte oratoria e
l'eloquenza, le quali più non si impongono per l'au reola religiosa, da cui
sono circondate, ma commuovono e trasci nano la moltitudine e la folla, a cui
si indirizzano. Fu essa infine, che, accanto alla narrazione delle gesta degli
eroi e dei principi, cantate nelle epopee primitive, rese possibile la storia
militare e po litica della città e del popolo, e pose anche in evidenza l'impor
tanza politica di quell'elemento, che chiamavasi plebe (1 ). 183. Dopo cið
parmi di poter conchiudere, che non può essere accolta l'opinione di coloro,
che considerano Roma primitiva come uno Stato patriarcale. « Lo Stato romano,
noi diremo con un re. cente autore, che è il Pelham, appartiene, quanto alla
sua struttura, ad uno stadio già molto più inoltrato dello sviluppo della
convivenza sociale e suppone innanzi a sè una lunga preparazione storica. Certo
esso conserva ancora le traccie di un più antico e più pri mitivo ordine di
cose; ma queste sono traccie di un periodo ormai trascorso, le quali tendono
sempre più a scomparire » (2). La supre (1) Per una più larga trattazione dei
mutamenti, che recò nella vita sociale il surrogarsi della città
all'organizzazione patriarcale, mi rimetto all'opera: La vita del diritto nei
suoi rapporti colla vita sociale, Torino, 1880, nº. 34, pag. 94 e segg., e alla
dissertazione: Genesi e sviluppo delle varie forme di convivenza civile e po
litica. Torino, 1878. (2 ) Pelham, vº Rome (ancient), nell'Encyclopedia
Britannica, ninth edition. Edinburgh, 1886, vol. XX, pag. 731. C. Le origini
del diritto di Roma.] mazia dello Stato è ormai stabilita sopra ciascuno dei
gruppi, dalla cui confederazione esso è uscito, e ciascuno di questi gruppi più
non si mantiene, che come una corporazione di carattere esclusivamente privato.
In questa parte pertanto « lo Stato Romano, come ben nota il Gentile, lascia a
grande distanza la monarchia delle popolazioni Orientali, ed anche quella delle
primitive società greche, la quale è ancora stretta da intimo vincolo colla
divinità, da cui ritiensi pro cedere, e che trasmettesi per eredità nei
discendenti per sangue, e signoreggia con assoluta potestà il populus od il
demos, il quale è solo convocato ad udire le decisioni sovrane e non mai a
deliberare. Il principio invece della sovranità popolare ed il diritto a
partecipare all'amministrazione della cosa pubblica con un voto direttamente
esercitato, e il diritto anche di voto nell'elezione dei reggitori dello Stato
è fin dalle prime origini inerente alla cittadinanza romana » (1). Il Re, fin
dagli esordii della città, è la suprema magistratura dello Stato, e questo è
l'opera del volontario accordo dei cittadini e dei capi di famiglia, che
concorsero alla sua formazione, i quali, nella propria elezione, più non badano
esclusivamente alla nascita ed alla stirpe, ma cominciano a riguardare al
valore ed alla sapienza dei proprii reggitori. Sarà collocandosi a questo punto
di vista, che non segue questo o quell'elemento esclusivo, ma cerca di
riguardarli tutti ad un tempo nel loro progressivo sviluppo, che potrà riuscire
più facile di com prendere i primitivi elementi dello Stato romano, ed il
carattere dei poteri, che lo governano. (1) GENTILE, Le elezioni e il broglio
nella repubblica romana, Milano, 1879, pag. 2 e 3. 227 . Le cose premesse hanno
abbastanza dimostrato, come nella formazione primitiva dell'organizzazione
sociale domini una legge di evoluzione, non dissimile da quella, che governa le
formazioni naturali. Le traccie di essa apparirono evidenti, allorchè fra i
gruppi gentilizii si veniva lentamente preparando e quasi sperimentando in
varie guise la convivenza civile e politica. Tuttavia questo concetto deve
essere completato con osservare, che nella storia delle cose sociali ed umane,
ogni qualvolta sono preparati gli elementi di una formazione novella, e questa
trovi un terreno acconcio al proprio sviluppo, gli elementi, di cui si tratta,
sembrano richiamarsi l'un l'altro, attirarsi scambievolmente, riunirsi per
guisa, che la nuova formazione sboccia tanto più rigogliosa e potente, quanto è
più matura la preparazione di essa. Per tal modo ad una lenta incuba zione può
anche succedere una pronta e rapida formazione: il che talvolta accade ancora a
' nostri tempi, e accadde senz'alcun dubbio nella storia primitiva di Roma,
allorchè la nuova città, dopo essere stata lungamente preparata, presentasi
nella storia pressochè con sapevole della propria destinazione. Tutte le
incertezze sembrano essere scomparse, e quasi si potrebbe dire con ragione, che
la co stituzione primitiva di Roma, al pari di Minerva, sembra uscire
compiutamente armata dal cervello di Giove. Se infatti si possono ancora
scorgere delle incertezze, in quanto riguarda la formazione di una religione,
comune alle varie tribù, perchè questo non è lo scopo essenziale, a cui Roma
intende; la costituzione politica di Roma invece sembra in certo modo essere il
frutto di una intuizione po tente, tanta è l'armonia dell'edifizio, tanta
l'efficacia e l'acconcezza dei vocaboli, con cui si esprimono le singole
istituzioni, tanto è il sentimento, che ciascun organo del nuovo Stato ha di sè
medesimo. e del contributo, che deve recare all'opera comune. Noi ci troviamo
228 di fronte ad un popolo, che con uno sforzo collettivo giunge a mo dellare
ne' fatti un edificio, al quale a stento potrebbe riuscire un pensatore, che
raccolto nelle proprie meditazioni cercasse di isolare da una quantità di
materiali, posti a sua disposizione, tutto ciò, che si riferisce alla vita
politica, giuridica e militare. Tutte le energie naturali e sociali sembrano
concentrarsi in un'opera sola, e ben può dirsi con Ennio e con Cicerone, che
fin dai propri esordii: Moribus antiquis res stat romana virisque. Secondo la
tradizione, bastó un solo regno per porre le basi di una costituzione, che
richiese poi parecchi secoli per svolgersi in tutte le sue parti (1): nè la
tradizione pud essere così facilmente respinta, come vorrebbe la critica
moderna, in quanto che noi difficilmente possiamo comprendere l'entusiasmo
potente, da cui poterono essere stimolati re, senato, sacerdozii e popolo,
allorchè erano intesi tutti all'attuazione di un grande concetto. 185. L'urbs,
dopo la federazione delle varie tribù, viene ad essere collocata in un sito, a
cui hanno facile accesso le diverse comunanze e trovasi così in tale posizione
da potersi cambiare nel l'emporio del Lazio. Essa per la prima, fra le
comunanze italiche, da cui trovasi circondata, l'ha rotta colle tradizioni, e
si è formata mediante il connubio di genti, che appartengono a stirpi e a nomi
diversi. I padri, che si riunirono per costituirla, hanno parentele ed aderenze
nei territori contigui, e probabilmente continuano a tenervi delle possessioni,
e possono così esercitare un'attrazione potente sulle popolazioni vicine, a
qualunque stirpe esse appartengono. Se a tutto ciò si aggiunge la fortuna della
nascente città, la fortezza della sua posizione e delle sue mura, il carattere
tenace e perseverante de' suoi cittadini, che tutto aspettano dall'avvenire di
essa, potrà lasciarci ammirati, ma non increduli il suo rapido incremento.
Anche lasciando in disparte il provvedimento, che viene attribuito a Ro molo,
di aver aperto un asilo ai rifugiati delle altre città, era na turale, che essa
dovesse cambiarsi in un asilo per tutti coloro, che « Vi. (1) Cic., de Rep., V,
1. È lo stesso CICERONE, che insiste più volte sul rapido svolgimento di Roma
all'epoca romulea, e fa dire fra le altre cose a Scipione: detisque igitur,
unius viri consilio non solum ortum novum populum, neque ut in cunabulis
vagientem relictum, sed adultum iam pene et puberem? » (De rep., II, 11). Lo
stesso pure appare dal racconto di Livio e di Dionisio. 229 si trovassero
spostati nella propria terra o nella propria organiz zazione gentilizia. Il
grande scopo dei fondatori era quello di fon dere insieme questi elementi
diversi e di unificare così la città, tanto nelle mura, che la circondano,
quanto nei concetti giuridici politici e militari, che servono a stringerne
insieme le parti diverse. 186. La cerchia delle mura e la sua compagine interna
sembrano cosi procedere di pari passo. I suoi fondatori già hanno una lunga
esperienza di cose civili e non ignorano anche i riti religiosi, da cui deve
essere accompagnata la fondazione di una città. Cominciasi pertanto dagli
auspizi, per conoscere « quod bonum, felix, faustum, fortunatumque siet populo
Romano», e per tal modo anche la re ligione viene ad essere posta a base della
nuova formazione. Quanto alla sua costituzione interna, tutto sembra essere
preparato ed ac concio. I concetti politici di Roma primitiva, nella loro
sintesi po tente, possono essere paragonati a quei massi rozzamente modellati,
che sovrapposti gli uniagli altri formano la cerchia delle sue mura, e che per
il proprio peso e la propria quadratura non abbisognano di essere cementati gli
uni con gli altri. Essi non escono da una costituzione scritta: ma erompono
dalla stessa realtà dei fatti, e sono altrettante costruzioni logiche e
coerenti in tutte le loro parti, le quali, una volta accolte nella
costituzione, potranno essere svolte con rigore dialettico, fino a che non
abbiano ricevuto tutto lo svi luppo, di cui possono essere capaci. Le forme
esteriori delle istituzioni politiche di Roma sono bensì ricavate da
istituzioni analoghe, esi stenti nell'organizzazione anteriore, ma il contenuto
di esse viene ad essere determinato dalle esigenze della nuova città. Quanto
all'in tento, che la città si propone, esso è universalmente sentito, e quindi
non è meraviglia, se la nuova città proceda verso il proprio scopo con
l'ordine, con cui si dispiegherebbe un esercito, e se dei suoi fondatori possa
dirsi col poeta: cui lecta potenter erit res, nec facundia deseret hunc, nec
lucidus ordo (1). Per tal modo il concetto della città presentasi determinato
in tutte le sue parti, e si esplica con un rigore geometrico, che rende pos
sibile di rifare i diversi stadii, che ha dovuto percorrere. (1 ) ORAZIO, Ars
poetica. 230 187. La città è un edifizio nuovo, costruito con elementi tolti
dall'organizzazione gentilizia preesistente, i quali però, mirando ad un
intento novello, ricevono uno svolgimento compiutamente diverso. L'urbs è una
selezione dalle comunanze di villaggio circostanti, per cui tutti gli edifizii,
che hanno pubblica destinazione, sono con centrati in un medesimo sito; il
populus non è tutta la popolazione delle comunanze, ma il complesso dei viri,
che col braccio e col consiglio possono cooperare all'interesse comune; la
civitas non è più un vincolo di sangue, ma è determinata dalla partecipazione
alla medesima vita pubblica sotto l'aspetto politico e militare ad un tempo; il
munus non è il complesso delle obbligazioni, che incom bono all'uomo come tale,
ma il complesso dei diritti e delle obbli gazioni, che derivano dall'ubbidire
al medesimo diritto e dal par tecipare alla stessa comunanza civile e politica
(1); la res publica non è la somma degli interessi de' singoli cittadini,ma il
complesso degli interessi, che riguarda l'universalità dei cittadini,
considerata come un tutto organico e coerente; infine la lex publica è il com
plesso dei patti ed accordi votati nei comisii, in base ai quali si conviene di
partecipare alla stessa vita pubblica, e quindi per la formazione di essa
debbono concorrere tutti gli elementi costitutivi della città. 188. Intanto
perd nella formazione della città non può aversi altro punto di partenza, che
quello delle istituzioni preesistenti, per guisa che il nuovo edificio richiama
pur sempre l'antico, ma intanto la sua base è mutata; poichè mentre quello si
reggeva sull'eredità e sulla discendenza, questo invece si fonda sulla capacità
e sull'ele zione; mentre quello si fondava sul vincolo del sangue, questo
invece pone la sua base salda sopra un determinato territorio, nel quale si
fortifica e si chiude; mentre in quello ogni cosa veniva ad essere determinata
dall'età e dalla posizione naturale, che altri tiene nella famiglia e nella
gente, in questo invece le funzioni degli (1) « Munus (scrive Festo, quale è
restituito dal Mommsen nell'ultima ediz. del Bruns, Fontes, pag. 344 e 3-15 )
dicitur administratio reipublicae, magistratus alicuius, aut curae, imperiive,
quae multitudinis universae consensu, atque legitimis in unum convenientis
populi comitiis, alicui mandatur per suffragia, ut capere eum eamque oporteat,
et statim, certove ex tempore, certum usque ad tempus administrare », Qui però
il vocabolo munus è preso in una significazione più ristretta, che non quella
che lo stesso autore vi attribuisce, quando discorre del municipium.] individui
vengono ad essere determinate dalla cooperazione, che possono recare alla città.
Giovani debbono esserne i soldati; anziani debbono esserne i consiglieri. —
Solo potrebbe trarre in inganno quel l'aureola religiosa, che sembra ancora
circondare la formazione della città; maanche questa religione non deve più
confondersi con quella preesistente; essa non è nè il fondamento, nè l'intento
supremo, a cui la città intende, come sembra sostenere il Fustel de Coulanges (1);
ma è soltanto una consacrazione dello scopo, che viene a proporsi la nuova
comunanza, politica e militare ad un tempo, e quindi anche la sua religione, i
suoi sacerdozii, i suoi auspizii hanno un carattere pubblico, e come tali si
contrappongono alla religione, ai sacerdozii, e agli auspicii delle singole
genti. $ 2. Il populus e le sue ripartizioni (tribus, curiae, decuriae). 189.
Anche le divisioni, che compariscono nella città, a prima giunta appariscono
come un riverbero di quelle, che esistevano nel periodo precedente e quanto
alla loro conformazione esteriore, sono veramente tali; ma se si riguardano più
da vicino, si presentano con un contenuto, che già comincia ad essere diverso e
che tende a diventarlo sempre più. Così è certamente vero, che la città viene
ad essere divisa in tribu; ma è evidente, che questa divisione in tribů,
trasportata nell'interno di una stessa comunanza, non può più considerarsi come
una distinzione del populus, ma tende di necessità a cam biarsi in una
ripartizione del suo territorio. Le tre tribù primitive, ancorchè serbino per
qualche tempo la denominazione antica, ten dono necessariamente a trasformarsi
in altrettante divisioni territo riali; poichè col mescolarsi degli elementi
riuniti in una stessa co munanza, la distinzione delle stirpi primitive finisce
per non più corrispondere alla realtà dei fatti. Come si potrà ancora parlare
di una tribù di Ramnenses, di Titienses e di Luceres, quando, per la comunanza
di connubio e di diritto, le varie genti si vengono me scolando insieme e nulla
pud impedire, che le persone di una stirpe possano anche trasportare la propria
sede nel territorio dell'altra? Si (1 ) FUSTEL DE COUlanges, La cité antique,
liv. III, chap. 5, 6, 7. 232 comprende pertanto, che fin dapprincipio i re
tentassero di togliere di mezzo questa distinzione, che solo ebbe a mantenersi
ancora per qualche tempo in conseguenza di quello spirito conservatore, che
dimostrasi tenace sopratutto fra le genti di stirpe Sabina, alle quali appunto
apparteneva l'augure Atto Nevio. La sua opposizione tut tavia non mutasi che in
una dilazione, e la soppressione delle an tiche tribù, se non di diritto, verrà
ad essere operata di fatto da Servio Tullio, che alla tribù fondata sulla
discendenza sostituirà la tribù di carattere territoriale, e sarà cosi
conservato il nome antico per indicare una istituzione compiutamente nuova. In
questo modo infatti si sostituisce il vincolo territoriale, a quello della
discendenza, che prima era il solo ad essere riconosciuto (1). 190. La
distinzione invece, che è veramente fondamentale per il populus, è quella per
cui il medesimo viene ad essere ripartito in curiae. Un tempo si è dubitato
circa il carattere originario delle curiae, e sull'autorità del Niebhur si è
soventi sostenuto, che esse non fossero, che aggregazioni di gentes, e che si
ripartissero anzi in gentes (2 ). Ora però comincia ad essere universalmente
ammesso, che la curia può essere una istituzione, la cui origine è forse an
teriore alla comunanza romana, e che poteva già essere conosciuta alle genti
latine ed etrusche; ma che essa deve ad ognimodo essere considerata come la
base di tutte le divisioni politiche e militari della città, finchè questa si
mantenne esclusivamente patrizia. Essa, al pari del populus, di cui è una
suddivisione, costituisce una cor porazione religiosa, politica e militare ad
un tempo; ha un proprio capo (curio); un proprio sacerdote (flamen curialis );
un proprio culto, che fa parte dei sacra publica; un proprio santuario (sacel
um ); e tutte insieme riunite hanno proprie assemblee, che pren dono il nome di
comitia curiata. L'esattezza stessa del loro nu mero già dimostra come questa
divisione abbia un carattere del tutto artificiale, e miri a uno scopo
preordinato, che è quello di dare (1) Del resto anche VARRONE, De ling. lat.,
IX, 9, parla della divisione primitiva in tribù, come di una divisione
piuttosto dell'ager che del populus. Cfr. Karlowa, Röm. R. G., I, pag. 31, il
quale anzi nota che la distinzione in tribus, secondo Livio I, 13, si
applicherebbe di preferenza agli equites. (2) Niebhur, Histoire Romaine. Trad.
Golbery. Paris, 1830, II, pag. 19. Vedi in proposito ciò, che si è detto
parlando delle gentes nel lib. I, cap. III, al nº. 28 e seg. e nelle note
relative. 233 - ai quiriti, posti sotto la protezione della religione, un
ordinamento politico e militare ad un tempo, per modo che essi sotto un aspetto
possano costituire un'assemblea di quiriti, e sotto un altro un eser cito di
Romani. Quello viene ad essere il loro nome nei rapporti interni (domi), e
questo è quello, con cui sono designati nei rapporti esterni (foris, militiae).
Nulla vieta, che imembri di una medesima curia siano anche stretti da vincoli
gentilizi fra di loro, e che essi, come attesta Aulo Gellio, siano anche tratti
ex generibus homi num (1); ma le curie sono già composte di uomini scelti, di
viri, diguerrieri armati di lancia (quiris), di persone comprese in certi
limiti di età, e quindi non possono più avere colle gentes altro rapporto,
salvo quello che da esse ricavasi il contingente, che entra a costituirle. È
quindi incomprensibile, che le curiae possano ripartirsi in gentes, le quali
comprendono indistintamente tutti coloro, che derivano dal medesimo antenato,
senza riguardo nè all'età, né al sesso. Solo può dirsi, che i membri della
curia possono essere considerati sotto un doppio aspetto: o in rapporto colle
famiglie, colle genti, colle tribù, da cui ebbero a staccarsi, e sotto
quest'aspetto essi continuano ad essere dei gentiles; o rimpetto al populus ed
alla civitas, di cui entrano a far parte, e sotto questo aspetto sono dei viri,
dei quirites, degli uomini di arme e di consiglio, che non debbono avere altro
pensiero, che quello della res publica. 191. Quanto alla suddivisione in
decuriae, che è solo accennata da Dionisio, essa non può certamente essere
confusa colla riparti zione in gentes, come avrebbe voluto il Niebhur; ma può
essere facilmente compresa, quando si ritenga, che dalle curie usciva poi quel
contingente, scelto e nominato dal re, che doveva poi entrare a costituire le
centurie dei cavalieri e le decurie dei senatori. I [Aulo Gellio, Noctes
Atticae, lib. XV, 27, ci conservò in succinto tutta una teoria intorno ai
comizii, che egli dice di aver ricavata dal libro di Laelius Foelix, ad Quintum
Mucium, e sarebbero parole testuali di quest'ultimo le seguenti: « cum ex
generibus hominum suffragium feratur, curiata comitia; cum ex censu et aetate,
centuriata; cum ex regionibus et locis, tributa ». Fu anche fondandosi su
questo passo, che si è sostenuto per lungo tempo, che le curiae si dividessero
in gentes; ma parmi evidente, che, anche ammettendo che genus in questo caso
suoni gens, il medesimo non potrà mai condurre ad altro risultato salvo a
quello, che il contingente delle curie era ricavato dalle genti e in base alla
discendenza, mentre quello delle cen turie era ripartito in base al censo, e
quello dei comizii tributi in base alle località o alle tribù, a cui erano
ascritti i cittadini. 234 senatori (patres) ed i cavalieri (celeres, equites)
nella città primi tiva appariscono come due corpi scelti nel seno stesso delle
curie, e corrispondono in certo modo alla divisione dei iuniores e dei se
niores. I primi sono l'elemento giovine, splendido nell'armi, che costituisce
il corteggio del re e l'ornamento della città (civitatis or namentum ), sotto
il comando di un tribunus celerum, o di un magister equitum; mentre il senato,
nella concezione estetica ed armonica della città primitiva, rappresenta
l'elemento più maturo negli anni, più saggio nel consiglio, e costituisce
veramente il con siglio, da cui il re è circondato (regium consilium ). Non vi
ha poi dubbio, che l'uno o l'altro elemento viene ad essere ricavato dal seno
delle curie, e quindi è assai probabile, che, nell'ordinamento simmetrico della
città primitiva, ogni curia potesse anche sommini strare un numero eguale di
cavalieri e di senatori, numero che dovette appunto essere quello di dieci per
ogni curia; donde il con cetto, che anche le curiae si dividessero in decuriae.
Del resto non avrebbe nulla di ripugnante, che questa suddivisione esistesse
vera mente nel seno delle curie: mentre sarebbe in ogni caso incom prensibile,
che le curie si potessero suddividere in gentes (1 ). 192. Conchiudendo si può
dire: che la ripartizione in tribù, qualunque potesse esserne la significazione
primitiva, tende a cam biarsi in una divisione territoriale, ossia in una
ripartizione del l'ager; che il populus, ricavato per selezione dalle genti e
dalle tribù, dividesi in curiae, che sono corporazioni religiose, politiche e
militari ad un tempo, i cui quadri sono regolari, come quelli diun esercito,
cosicchè riunite possono costituire sotto un certo aspetto un esercito e sotto
un altro aspetto un'assemblea politica, e sotto altro assumono eziandio un
carattere sacerdotale, che fu quello (1) Che le decuriae non debbano
confondersi colle gentes, ma debbano invece ri cercarsi piuttosto negli equites
e senz'alcun dubbio anche fra i patres del senato, è provato anzitutto da ciò,
che il senato fin dai primi tempi si divideva senz'alcun dubbio in decuriae, il
che dovette pure essere degli equites, il cui corpo, secondo OVIDIO, Fast.,
III, 130 dividevasi appunto in dieci squadroni o turme, così chia mate « quasi
turimae, quod ter deni equites, ex tribus tribubus Titiensium, Ramnium, Lucerum
fiebant » (V. Festo, vº Turmam ). Del resto la divisione del senato in de
curiae fu ancora mantenuta nelle coloniae e nei municipia, dei quali si sa, che
erano organizzati sul modello stesso della metropoli. Cfr. in proposito Belot,
His toire des chevaliers romains, I, pag. 151, 152; e il Bloy, Les origines du
Sénat romain. Paris, 1883, pag. 102-105. 235 - che serbarono più a lungo,
allorchè già avevano perduto le altre funzioni politiche e militari; che da
ultimo il corpo scelto degli equites e dei patres dividesi in decuriae. Questo
è certo ad ogni modo, che nel populus non deve più essere cercata la riparti
zione in gentes, delle quali solo si può dire ciò, che Cicerone disse più tardi
della famiglia, che esse cioè erano il seminarium reipublicae, perchè da esse
ricavavasi il contingente, che entrava a costituire le curie. § 3. — Il
pubblico potere e gli aspetti essenziali del medesimo (regis imperium, patrum
auctoritas, populipotestas). 193. Intanto questo esame del populus e della sua
composizione può facilmente condurci a spiegare in qual modo abbia potuto sboc
ciare nel seno del medesimo il concetto del pubblico potere, ed in quali forme
esso siasi venuto manifestando. I vocaboli sono qui una guida incerta, poichè
il potere in genere viene ad essere indicato, ora col vocabolo di potestas, ed
ora con quello di imperium; ma l'in certezza, che è nei vocaboli, può essere
tolta di mezzo, se si riesca a ricostruire il processo logico, che in questa
parte seguirono i Romani. Anche a questo riguardo esistevano degli elementi,
che già erano preparati nell'organizzazione preesistente. Per unificare la
città, presentavasi acconcia la figura del padre; per consultarsi nei momenti
più difficili, eravi il consiglio degli anziani; e in fine per deliberare
intorno alle cose, che riguardavano il comune interesse, già si conosceva
l'assemblea della tribù. Erano così in pronto l'elemento monarchico,
l'aristocratico e il democratico; nė ai fondatori della città patrizia poteva
ripugnare, che queste con figurazioni dell'organizzazione gentilizia fossero
trasportate nella nuova comunanza. L'imitazione dell'antico avrebbe conciliato
rive renze alle istituzioni novelle, e quindi tutte queste estrinsecazioni del
potere, preesistenti nell'organizzazione anteriore, ricompariscono nella città;
ma intanto il concetto ispiratore viene ad essere com piutamente diverso. Il re
infatti non è più tale per nascita, ma è creato dall'elezione; il che deve pur
dirsi del senato, e fino anche dei comizii del popolo, i quali non sono una
moltitudine, ne una folla, in qualsiasi modo congregata, ma costituiscono un
esercito di uomini di arme, ed un'assemblea, debitamente organizzata, di uomini
di senno e di consiglio. Il re, il senato ed il popolo, adunato nei comizii,
vengono così ad essere i tre organi essenziali, in cui si estrinseca il
pubblico potere nella costituzione primitiva di Roma. 194. Quanto al vocabolo
adoperato per significare questo supremo potere, la cosa è dubbia, poichè
occorrono in significazione generica ora quello di potestas, ed ora quello di
imperium. Dei due vocaboli tuttavia quello, che a mio avviso appare più largo e
comprensivo, è certamente il vocabolo di potestas, il quale, per la propria ge
neralità, può facilmente adattarsi ad indicare qualsiasi gradazione del
pubblico potere. Esso quindi si applica talora per significare il potere del
magistrato (potestas regia, consularis, censoria ); quello del popolo (populi
potestas) e talvolta eziandio quello del senato, al modo stesso che può anche
adoperarsi per significare il potere domestico e privato. Potestas insomma,
nella sua significa zione più larga, indica il potere, riguardato in tutte le
sue mol teplici manifestazioni; il che però non toglie, che, contrapponen dosi
talvolta lo stesso vocabolo a quello di imperium, possa anche assumere una
significazione più circoscritta (1). L'espressione quindi (1) Questa incertezza
di significazione fra potestas ed imperium è notata, fra gli altri, dal
KARLOWA, Röm. R. G., I, pag. 84, il quale trova eziandio, che il voca bolo di
potestas ha una significazione più generica. Così pure la pensa il MOMMSEN,
secondo il quale il vocabolo di potestas esprime l'idea più larga, e quello di
impe rium la più ristretta; sebbene ciò non tolga, che nel linguaggio corrente
il vocabolo di imperium siasi poscia riservato alle magistrature
maggiori,mentre si adoperò quello di potestas per i magistrati, che non avevano
imperium. Ciò risulta dal passo di Festo ivi citato: « Cum imperio dicebatur
apud antiquos, cui nominatim a populo dabatur imperium; cum potestate est,
dicebatur de eo, qui negotio alicui praeficiebatur ». Le droit public romain,
I, pag. 24. Lo stesso autore poi osserva, che quel vocabolo di imperium, che in
un senso tecnico indicava in genere il potere del magistrato, in un senso
ugualmente tecnico e più frequente indicava il comando militare. Op. cit., I,
pag. 135. Parmi tuttavia, che queste apparenti incoerenze nella significazione
di questi vocaboli vengano a dileguarsi, quando si ritenga, che il vocabolo di
potestas indicava il potere pubblico in genere, mentre quello di imperium
usavasi di prefe renza per il potere del magistrato, e più specialmente ancora
per l'imperium militiae. Anche nell'indicazione del potere privato del capo di
famiglia accadde alcun che di analogo. Questo potere infatti in origine era
indicato col vocabolo generico dimanus o di potestas; ma ciò non tolse, che
questi vocaboli abbiano poi designato i singoli aspetti di questo potere, cioè
la manus il potere del marito sulla moglie, e la po testas quello del padre sui
figli. Ciò significa, che i vocaboli presentansi dapprima con una
significazione più larga, che corrisponde al vigore sintetico di quei concetti
primitivi, di cui sono l'espressione; ma quando poi questi concetti si vengono
diffe renziando nei varii loro aspetti, il vocabolo primitivo suol sempre
essere mantenuto per significare in modo più specifico uno di tali aspetti. 237
- più generale del potere viene ad essere quella di publica potestas; ma
siccome poi esso può atteggiarsi sotto aspetti diversi, così ben presto nella
indeterminazione primitiva, compariscono i vocaboli, che esprimono gli
atteggiamenti diversi, che il medesimo viene ad assumere. Tali sono i vocaboli
di imperium, che applicasi di prefe renza al potere del magistrato; quello di
auctoritas, che sopratutto si accomoda al senato; e quello infine di potestas,
che, applicato al popolo, indica il potere di esso, in quanto iubet atque
constituit (1), Tutti questi concetti sono ancora vaghi ed indeterminati: ma
intanto sono concepiti in una sintesi potente, che renderà possibile a cia
scuno di ricevere uno svolgimento pressochè indefinito. 195. Ciò può scorgersi
anzitutto quanto al concetto di imperium, che indica di preferenza il potere
del magistrato. Il medesimo, nel concetto romano, non esce dalla nascita, nè
dalla investitura divina; ma esce dall'accordo delle volontà, che concentrano
ed unificano in esso il potere, che prima era disperso fra i singoli capi di fa
miglia, alla cui potestà trovasi talvolta applicato il vocabolo stesso di
imperium. Per esprimere un tal concetto non poteva esservi im magine più
efficace, che quella di raccogliere e di riunire quelle aste, che sono
l'emblema del potere spettante ai singoli quiriti (2 ). (1) Che il potere del
re e degli altri magistrati maggiori, che a lui sottentrarono più tardi, sia di
regola indicato col vocabolo di imperium, è cosa che appare da tutti gli
antichi scrittori. È poi sopratutto CICERONE, che accenna a queste varie distin
zioni, allorchè afferma che « potestas in populo, auctoritas in senatu est ».
De le gibus III, 12, § 28; distinzioni, che egli fa rimontare fino agli inizii
di Roma, in quanto che, parlando di Romolo, scrive: « vidit singulari imperio
et potestate regia tum melius gubernari et regi civitates, esset optimi
cuiusque ad illam vim do minationis adiuncta auctoritas », nel qual passo il
potere regio viene efficacemente chiamato vim dominationis, mentre quello del
senato è indicato con quello di au ctoritas. De rep., JI, 8. [Magistratus,
scrive a questo proposito il Mommsen, è l'individuo investito di una
magistratura politica regolare, in quanto essa emana dall'elezione del popolo (Le
droit public romain, I, pag. 8 ); e aggiunge poi a pag. 10, che il magistrato,
quanto alle forme esteriori, è appunto colui, che ha diritto di portare i fasci
dentro la città. Ora se il magistrato è l'eletto del popolo, e se i fasci, che
simboleggiano i poteri riuniti dei quiriti, sono l'emblema del suo potere, non
so veramente com prendere, come siasi potuto sostenere, in parte dallo stesso
Mommsen, che il re non riceva il proprio potere dal popolo: tanto più, che gli
scrittori antichi parlando del popolo usano le espressioni di imperium dare,
magistratum creare, iubere, sibi ad scire e simili. 238 Per tal guisa, dal
fascio delle armi usci il fascio dei littori, e si frapposero in esso anche le
scuri, che simboleggiano quel ius vitae et necis, il quale apparteneva al capo
di famiglia, e non poteva perciò essere negato al capo della città. È tuttavia
degno di nota, che questo imperium, formatosi mediante la riunione dei poteri
spettanti a ciascuno, appena costituito apparisce pauroso per coloro stessi,
che ebbero a conferirlo, in quanto che le sue stesse insegne esteriori (fasces)
indicano, come al disopra del potere dei singoli siasi formato un potere
collettivo, a cui tutti debbono inchinarsi. È questa la causa, per cui, davanti
ai fasci dei littori, si apre la molti tudine e la folla per lasciare il passo
a quel magistrato, il quale, mentre è il frutto dell'elezione di tutti, viene
ad essere imponente e pauroso per ciascuno; e che se il magistrato ordini al
littore « col liga manus », il cittadino non osa sottrarsi al comando. 196.
Intanto in questa prima concezione del potere del magi strato, non si potrebbe
certamente aspettare, che siano determinati i confini, in cui il medesimo debba
essere contenuto. La necessità di un elemento unificatore è universalmente
sentita, trattandosi di una città, che fin dalle proprie origini era il frutto
della con federazione di elementi eterogenei e diversi; né si può aspettare,
che un popolo, il quale non pose dapprima alcun limite al potere giuridico del
capo di famiglia, possa cercare di mettere dei confini alpubblico potere del
magistrato. Il medesimo percid compare senza limitazione di sorta; è potere
religioso, militare, politico e civile ad un tempo; ed è concepito in una
sintesi cosi potente, che, secondo il Mommsen, per ricostruire il potere
primitivo del re, con viene in certo modo ricomporre quei poteri, che si
vennero poi di stribuendo fra tutte le magistrature più elevate di Roma, quali
sono il console, il pretore, il dittatore ed il censore. Fu solo l'esperienza,
che venne dopo, che fece conoscere come del potere possa abusare anche un
eletto dal popolo, e in allora si assiste ad una singolare scomposizione del
potere primitivo del re, per cui ogni sua particolare funzione finisce per dare
origine ad una ma gistratura speciale. Tuttavia, anche allora, cercherebbesi
indarno una circoscrizione netta di qualsiasi potere, cosicchè il magistrato ro
mano, che può talvolta essere reso impotente per un atto di minima (1) Mommsen,
Op. cit., pag. 5 e 6. 239 importanza, viene ad avere un potere pressochè senza
confini, al lorchè trovasi appoggiato e sorretto dalla pubblica opinione. Lo
stesso è a dirsi della patrum auctoritas. Anche qui occorre un vocabolo, che
come quello di potestas, presentasi con significazione alquanto vaga ed
indeterminata, e che trovasi applicato eziandio, cosi in tema di diritto
pubblico che di diritto privato. Chi ben riguardi tuttavia non potrà a meno di
notare, che il vocabolo auctoritas, nella varietà delle significazioni, che
sogliono essergli attribuite, significa costantemente l'appoggio,
l'approvazione, la ga ranzia, che si arreca o si assume per un determinato atto.
Tale è la significazione fondamentale di questo vocabolo, sia quando parlasi di
iuris auctoritas, di usus auctoritas, sia anche quando è questione di tutoris
auctoritas, o del venditore, il quale, dovendo garentire l'evizione al
compratore, auctor fit dirimpetto al medesimo. Or bene anche questa è la
significazione del vocabolo di patrum auctoritas. Da una parte havvi il re, che
agisce ed esercita l'imperium, dal. l'altra il popolo, il quale iubet atque
constituit; mentre il senato trovasi nel mezzo, e cosi da una parte dà i suoi
consilia almagi strato, dall'altra auctor fit, cioè accorda la propria
approvazione alle deliberazioni del popolo (1). Esso componesi di persone, alle
quali, per la loro età e per il loro grado, si appartiene non tanto l'agere,
quanto il consulere, e quindi, senza avere propria iniziativa, completa in
certo modo l'opera dell'uno e dell'altro; poichè per mezzo del senato le misure
prese dal re vengono ad avere l'autorità e l'appoggio del suo consiglio, e le
delibera zioni del popolo ricevono consistenza ed autorità, mediante la sua
approvazione. Finchè dura il periodo regio, il concetto si man tiene ancora
vago ed indeterminato; ma durante il periodo repub blicano quest'autorità,
essenzialmente consultiva, riceverà una lar ghissima esplicazione, e finirà per
penetrare in qualsiasi argomento; e quindi può affermarsi a ragione, che la
grandezza di Roma non fu L'ufficio consultivo, che il senato compie rispetto al
re, è bellamente espresso da CICERONE, allorchè dice di Romolo: « Itaque hoc
consilio et quasi senatu fultus ». De rep., II, 8. Quanto poi all'auctoritas,
che il senato esercita rimpetto al populus, essa non può certamente pareggiarsi
coll' auctoritas tutoris dirimpetto al pupillo, perchè non trattasi qui di
integrare una personalità incompleta; ma bensì di recare il sussidio e
l'autorità, che viene dall'età e dall'esperienza, ai provvedimenti, che ri guardano
il pubblico interesse. Cfr. Karlowa, Röm. R. G., I, pag. 47. 240 solo opera
della fortezza del suo popolo, nè dell'energia del suo ma gistrato, ma benanco
della sapienza del suo senato. Per i Romani ebbe importanza l'agere e il
iubere; ma l'uno e l'altro dovettero essere temperati dal consulere. 198.
Intanto, dacchè sono in quest'argomento, importa qui di accen nare alla
questione tanto controversa, fra gli autori, circa la signifi cazione da
attribuirsi al vocabolo di patrum auctoritas: col qual vocabolo alcuni
intendono l'approvazione del senato; altri invece l'approvazione, che, durante
i primi secoli della repubblica, i pa trizii delle curie dovevano dare alle
deliberazioni prese negli altri comizi; mentre altri infine ritengono, che con
esso intendasi l'ap provazione dei senatori esclusivamente patrizii (1 ).
Sembra a me, che la questione possa essere risolta in modo assai più naturale e
più verosimile, quando si abbia presente che, in una lunga evoluzione storica,
quale è quella della costituzione politica di Roma, una stessa espressione può
in varii periodi di tempo anche assumere significazioni compiutamente diverse.
Durante il periodo regio, il vocabolo di patrum auctoritas significò senz'alcun
dubbio l'approvazione del senato; perchè nella città esclusivamente patrizia
erano chiamati col nome di patres i senatori, mentre gli altri capi di famiglia
costituivano il populus e l'assemblea delle curie. Più tardi invece, allorchè,
accanto ai comizii curiati, si vennero for mando anche i comizii centuriati, ed
anche i comizii tributi, il vo cabolo di patres o patricii potè naturalmente
comprendere tutto l'ordine patrizio, il quale costituiva veramente l'ordine dei
patres e dei patricii di fronte al rimanente del popolo, ed aveva ancora una
propria assemblea, che era quella appunto delle curie. Di qui (1) Questa è una
delle questioni più controverse, che presenti la storia politica di Roma, e
credo veramente, che la causa del dissenso provenga dalla supposizione, che un
medesimo vocabolo in una lunga evoluzione storica debba sempre avere una
medesima significazione. Le opinioni diverse sostenute dagli autori possono
vedersi riassunte dal WILLEMS, Le droit public romain, 5me éd., Paris 1883, pag.
208 e dal Bouché-LECLERCQ, Manuel des institutions romaines, Paris 1886, pag.
16, nota 1. Di recente la questione ebbe ad essere trattata con grande
chiarezza ed eradizione dal PANTALEONI, L'auctoritas patrum nell'antica Roma
nelle sue diverse forme (Rivista di filologia, Così pure ebbe nuovamente a
trattarla il KARLOWA, op. cit., pag. 42 a 48; il quale finisce per associarsi
all'opinione già soste nuta dal Rubino, che l'auctoritas patrum debba ritenersi
per l'approvazione dei se natori patrizii. 241 la conseguenza, che d'allora in
poi, per indicare l'approvazione del senato si usd di preferenza il vocabolo di
senatus auctoritas, in quanto, che il senato aveva già cessato di essere
composto esclusi vamente di veri patres, e cominciava a raccogliersi fra gli
equites e più tardi fra i magistrati uscenti di uffizio (patres et conscripti);
mentre il vocabolo di patrum auctoritas potè servire acconciamente per indicare
la ratifica, che i comizii curiati, composti ancora dell'ele mento patrizio,
dovevano dare alle leggi ed alle altre deliberazioni, che fossero state votate
nelle altre riunioni comiziali; il che è dimo strato da ciò, che si usano
promiscuamente le espressioni « patres o patricii auctores fiunt ». Siccome
però in questo periodo, il senato è ancora essenzialmente l'organo del
patriziato, così si comprende come posteriormente, allorchè la necessità della
patrum auctoritas era stata abolita, l'espressione siasi talvolta adoperata per
significare l'una o l'altra approvazione (1). (1) Nella gravissima questione,
che è tuttora aperta, gli unici argomenti, vera mente saldi, di cui possiamo
valerci, sono i seguenti: 1° Che l' auctoritas patrum, durante il periodo regio
esclusivamente patrizio, non potè significare che l'approva zione del senato,
come risulta dal racconto di Livio, relativo all'elezione di Numa, ove i
patres, qui auctores fiunt, non possono essere che i senatori. Hist. I, 17, ed
anche da Cicerone, il quale, comesopra si è visto, attribuisce l'auctoritas al
senatus; 2° Che colla Repubblica il senato continuò senz'alcun dubbio ad
approvare le deli berazioni curiate e centuriate, ed anche tribute, in quanto
che parlasi più volte di senatus auctoritas, come risulta da Livio, XXXII, 6;
IV, 46, ove i colleghi di Sestio di chiarano: nullum plebiscitum nisi ex
auctoritate senatus passuros se perferri; 3º Che oltre a questa approvazione
del senato si parla sovente di patres o di patricii auctores sopratutto da
Livio, ogni qualvolta trattasi di proposta di un interrex, o di qualche
provvedimento voluto dalla plebe. Hist. III, 40, 55, 59; IV, 7, 17, 42, 43 ecc.
Ora quest'ultime parole non possono più riferirsi al senato, e quindi l'unica
conclusione probabile viene ad essere, che, siccome l'assemblea delle curie,
composta di patricii, era in certo modo stata esclusa dalla formazione delle
leggi, la quale era passata invece ai comizii centuriati, che erano la vera
riunione del populus, così essa, accid ritenesse sempre una parte nella
formazione delle leggi, è stata chiamata a dare la patrum o patriciorum
auctoritas, che venne così ad essere distinta dalla senatus au ctoritas. Cid fu
una conseguenza della modificazione introdottasi nella costituzione colla
introduzione dei comizii centuriati, e del principio ispiratore della
costituzione primitiva, secondo cui, per la formazionedella legge, richiedevasi
il concorso di tutti gli organi politici dello stato. Ciò che è accaduto
dell'auctoritas patrum, si è pure verificato della lex curiata de imperio, ed
anche della proposta dell' interrex, che pure appartengono all'assemblea
esclusivamente patrizia, quale fu per qualche tempo ancora quella delle curie;
mentre il Senato, avendo anch'esso accolto in parte l'ele mento plebeo, aveva
seguito lo svolgersi della costituzione, e aveva così cessato di C., Le origini
del diritto di Roma. 16 - 212 199. Viene infine la potestas populi, e a questo
riguardo io non dubito di affermare, che essa nel concetto della costituzione
pri mitiva di Roma, debbe essere considerata come la sorgente di ogni altro
potere. Alcuni autori trovano ripugnante, che Roma sia sen z'altro pervenuta al
concetto della sovranità popolare, e quindi cercano di dare, come fondamento
all'imperium del magistrato, il concetto degli auspicia, che essi considerano
come una specie di investitura divina. Parmi invece, che la genesi dello Stato
romano essere esclusivamente patrizio. Insomma, coll'accoglimento della plebe
nel populus quiritium, il vero potere legislativo viene a portarsi nei comizii
centuriati; ma in tanto l'assemblea delle curie conserva l'auctoritas patrum,
la lex curiata de imperio, e la proposta dell'interrex. Certo è una congettura
anche questa, ma mentre essa non contraddice ai passi degli antichi autori,
corrisponde allo spirito della costitu zione primitiva, in cui ogni organo
politico deve aver parte nella formazione delle leggi e nell'elezione del
magistrato, ed al sistema romano, che, pur introducendo un nuovo organo
politico, suole ancora mantenere per riverenza e per culto quelli, che
esistevano precedentemente. Il vero intanto si è, che queste varie funzioni
dell'as semblea delle curie non avevano più una vera ed effettiva influenza,
poichè la lex curiata de imperio divenne una semplice formalità, la proposta
dell'interrex era una reliquia del principio, che auspicia ad patres redeunt, e
la patrum auctoritas soleva solo essere negata, quando trattavasi di
opposizione d'interessi fra patriziato e plebe. Dovrò ritornare sull'argomento
nel Capitolo III, al § 1° e 2°, discorrendo dello svol gimento storico del
concetto di lex, e di quello dell'interregnum. Del resto delle opinioni poste
innanzi dagli autori quella, che parmi la meno probabile, è quella adottata dal
KARLOWA, che intende per patrum auctoritas l'approvazione dei soli senatori
patrizii, perchè essa non si concilia coll'espressione dei patricii auctores
fiunt, patricü coeunt, interregem produnt e simili, e perchè crea una divisione
nel senato, che è incompatibile col carattere di unità coerente, che ebbe
sempre questo corpo. Mentre l'assemblea delle curie diventava una soprav
vivenza dell'antica' costituzione, il senato invece si mantenne sempre vigoroso
e vi tale, e subì modificazioni analoghe a quelle del populus, senza mai
portare le traccie di dissidii che fossero nel suo seno, poichè la nobiltà
plebea, che entrava in esso, aveva già le stesse tendenze dell'antico
patriziato. Che poi il vocabolo di patres, in questo periodo, fosse venuto a
significare in genere l'ordine patrizio, è dimostrato in modo incontrastabile
da quella disposizione della legge decemvirale: « connubium patribus cum plebe
ne esto », dove il vocabolo patres non comprende certo soltanto i senatori, ma
tutti i patrizü; come pure dal fatto, che gli storici parlano soventi dei
iuniores patrum, la cui intransigenza è condannata dal senato. (1) Parmi, che
questa proposizione sia abbastanza provata dalle espressioni ado. perate dagli
autori per significare il potere del popolo. CICERONE, ad esempio, parla di
questo potere, dicendo che il populus regem sibi adscivit, creavit, iussit,
constituit; espressioni, che indicano abbastanza, che la potestà suprema, a suo
avviso, risiedeva presso il popolo. Lo stesso è da lui confermato, allorchè nel
discorso de lege agraria 2, 7, 17 dice: « omnes potestates, imperia, curationes
ab universo populo romano 243 dovesse logicamente condurre al risultato di
riporre la sorgente del pubblico potere nella sovranità popolare, circondandola
però di quel l'aureola religiosa, che occorre in tutte le primitive istituzioni
di Roma. Lo Stato romano esce dalla confederazione e dal contratto, e quindi al
modo stesso, che la patria riceve la sua denominazione dai patres; così il
potere pubblico si forma mediante la riunione del potere, che appartiene ai
singoli quiriti, e che è rappresentato dalla lancia, di cui essi sono armati.
Quanto agli auspicia, che appar tengono al magistrato, essi non mirano, che a
dare una consacra zione religiosa al potere stesso, e a metterlo in condizione
di sapere giudicare, se questo o quel provvedimento, da prendersi nel pubblico
interesse, possa essere o non accetto agli dei. Che anzi gli auspicia publica
del magistrato debbono considerarsi essi stessi come una trasmessione, che i
padri fanno al magistrato di quegli auspicia, che appartengono a ciascuno di
essi. Cid è dimostrato dal fatto che, du rante l'interregno, gli auspicia
ritornano ai padri (ad patres re deunt auspicia ); il che significa, che in
origine dovevano appartenere ai padri stessi, i quali, nell'interesse delle
loro genti e famiglie, as sumevano quegli auspicii, che il magistrato romano
doveva invece consultare, quando si trattasse di qualche deliberazione
importante per il popolo stesso. Tuttavia se ai patres tornano gli auspicia, è
però sempre al populus, che spetta di creare il magistrato, che debba succedere
nell'imperium, come lo dimostra la tradizione, per venuta fino a noi, della
elezione diNuma. Si aggiunge, che è solo dopo il conferimento dell'imperium,
fatto mediante la lex curiata de imperio, che il re dapprima e le magistrature,
che gli sottentrarono più tardi, possono entrare nell'adempimento del proprio
uffizio. Ri tengo pertanto, che a questo proposito non possa essere accolta
l'opi nione del Mommsen, la quale riesce pure inammessibile per il Kar
proficisci convenit ». Lo stesso è indicato da Festo, allorchè parlando del
magi stratus cum imperio, dice, che esso è quello al quale « a populo dabatur
imperium ». Malgrado di ciò convien dire, che l'opinione contraria, come si
vedrà in seguito, ha la prevalenza presso gli autori anche recenti, che si
occuparono dell'argomento. Si accostano però al concetto da me sostenuto il
Mainz, Introd. au cours de droit romain. Bruxelles, ed il GENTILE, Le elezioni
e il broglio nella repubblica romana, il quale fino dapprincipio afferma molto
chiaramente e giusta mente, a parer mio, che « i pastori della leggenda
riconoscono Romolo per capo supremo; ma, pur conferendogli la somma autorità,
riguardano ancor sempre se stessi quali depositarii, e quasi natural sorgente
della sovranità ». 244 - lowa, secondo la quale la lex curiata de imperio non
conferirebbe l'impero, ma soltanto vincolerebbe il popolo verso il re (1). Se
cosi fosse infatti, il magistrato dovrebbe poter esercitare il proprio ufficio,
anche prima di aver ricevuto questa specie di giuramento di fedeltà, che
servirebbe ad obbligare il popolo, ma nulla aggiungerebbe al suo potere. Il
vero invece si è, che anche in questa appare il carattere eminentemente
contrattuale della costituzione primitiva di Roma, per cui anche il
conferimento del potere supremo si opera colla forma propria della
stipulazione, in quanto che havvi il magistrato, che prima di entrare in
ufficio rogat imperium, ed havvi il popolo, che con una legge glie lo
conferisce: e intanto l'uno e l'altro co noscono i diritti e le obbligazioni,
che una legge di questa natura può loro conferire. Una prova poi di questo
riconoscimento della sovranità popolare l'abbiamo per parte del patriziato, in
quel fatto di Valerio Pubblicola, che in tempo di pace e dentro la città
ordinava ai littori di abbassare i fasci, e di togliere daimedesimi le scuri,
come pure nel fatto, che gli imperatori, quando già si erano fatti onnipotenti,
sentirono il bisogno, per rispettare un tradizionale concetto, di essere
investiti dell'imperium dal popolo. 200. Intanto però il concetto, che il
potere supremo risiedesse nel popolo, non poteva in nessun modo affievolire
l'imperium: poichè al modo stesso che il popolo doveva ubbidire alle leggi, che
si erano (1 ) Che il magistrato non possa entrare in ufficio, e tanto meno
esercitare l'im perium, prima della lex curiata de imperio, è provato da due
passi di CICERONE, nei quali si dice: « consuli, si legem curiatam non habet,
rem militarem attingere non licet » (De lege agraria, II, 12, 30 ) e più
genericamente ancora: « sine lege cu riata nihil agi per decemviros posse » (Ibidem,
II, 11, 28). Dal momento quindi, che il concetto dell'imperium dei consoli è in
tutto identico a quello del regis im perium, non si comprende come il Mommsen,
Staatsrecht, I, 588 s. possa ridurre la lex curiata ad un semplice giuramento
di fedeltà, che vincola i soli sudditi, e meno an cora, che il Karlowa, op.
cit., I, pag. 52 e 82 possa sostenere, che la lex curiata de imperio non
sarebbe entrata in azione, che colla costituzione Serviana, ossia colla in
troduzione dei comizii centuriati, i quali avrebbero conferita la potestas,
mentre i comizii curiati avrebbero poi conferito l'imperium. Ciò è contraddetto
ripetutamente da CICERONE, de Rep. II, 10, 17, 18, 20, che parla appunto della
lex curiata de imperio a proposito dei primi re. Non solo deve negarsi, che
questa lex entrò in azione solo colla costituzione Serviana; ma deve dirsi
piuttosto, che essa da quel momento perde della propria importanza e riducesi
ad una semplice sopravvi venza dell'antico ordine di cose, in cui erano i
patres, che investivano il re del. l'imperium, e a cui ritornavano gli auspicia.
- 245 da lui votate nei comizi, così esso doveva eziandio inchinarsi al potere,
che aveva conferito al magistrato per mezzo di una pro pria legge. Che anzi
questo potere riusciva tanto più efficace ed imponente, in quanto si fondava
sopra una volontà collettiva, che ve niva a sovrapporsi alla volontà dei
singoli. Ed è anche questo il mo tivo, per cui il potere del magistrato romano
veniva in certo modo ad essere senza confini, finchè aveva l'appoggio della
pubblica opinione. Fermo cosi il concetto della costituzione primitiva di Roma,
quale esce dalla logica delle istituzioni (logica, che nel fatto dovette anche
essere più rigorosa e coerente di quella, che a noi possa esser riu scito di
ricostruire ), riescirà più facile di ricomporre insieme i cenni, che gli
autori ci conservarono di questa primitiva costituzione e di comprendere il
vero ed intimo significato della medesima. § 4. Il re ed il regis imperium.
201. Dei concetti politici del periodo regio, quello che presentasi modellato
in modo più vigoroso e potente è certamente il potere del rex. Tutti i poteri
infatti, che nel periodo anteriore, presso le genti latine, erano indicati coi
vocaboli di magister populi, di magister pagi, di dictator, di praetor, di
iudex appariscono fusi e concentrati nella concezione sintetica del regis
imperium. Per tal modo il con cetto del rex da una parte inchiude la sintesi di
tutte le manifestazioni del potere, che eransi avverate nel periodo gentilizio,
e dall'altra è il punto di partenza,da cui prendono le mosse tutti i poteri,
che, durante il periodo repubblicano, saranno poi affidati alle diverse
magistrature maggiori. Il rex nel concetto romano è l'unificazione potente del
populus; accoglie in sè la somma dei poteri, che possono essere necessarii
nell'interesse della cosa pubblica; nė vi ha costituzione scritta, che gli
prescriva alcun limite nell'esercizio dei medesimi. Cid però non toglie, che
questi limiti esistano di fatto nel costume pubblico e privato; nel bisogno
incessante, che il re ha dell'appoggio della pubblica opinione; ed anche negli
imbarazzi, che gli possono creare i padri, ogni qualvolta egli volesse spingere
troppo oltre la propria azione. Capo del populus, egli è custode eziandio della
città spiega la vita pubblica (custos urbis), e deve avere la propria casa nel
cuore stesso della città, accanto al sito, ove deve bru 246 ciare perenne il
focolare della vita pubblica, che si conserva nel tempio di Vesta. Che se, per
provvedere al pubblico interesse, debba abbandonare la città, dovrà lasciare
nella medesima un proprio delegato, che prenderà il nome di praefectus urbis. È
quindi anche il re, che provvede al lustro esteriore della città, che progetta
e costruisce quelle opere grandiose, che già rimon tano all'epoca regia, e che
non furono le meno durature fra quelle costruite nell'eterna città. È nella
successione dei re parimenti, che può scorgersi una continuità nel grandioso
intento di ampliarne le mura e le fortificazioni; lavori tutti, le cui reliquie
dimostrano abbastanza, come trattisi di un concepimento, che già presentatosi
ai primi re, ebbe poi ad essere continuato da quelli, che vi suc cedettero, non
eccettuato quello, che aspird alla tirannide. 202. Cid quanto alla custodia
materiale dell'urbs. Che se si con sidera dirimpetto al populus, il re,
condottiero di un popolo, che è ripartito in curie, le quali hanno un carattere
religioso, militare e politico ad un tempo, riunisce in sè tutti questi caratteri.
Finché dura il periodo regio, il magistrato non è solo il capo dell'esercito
(impe rator) od il magister populi, o il giudice cosi in tempo di pace che in
tempo di guerra, ma è anche il sommo sacerdote del popolo romano. Esso è augure
sommo, e tale appare Romolo stesso; è pontefice massimo, come lo dimostra il
fatto, che questa ' magistratura sacer dotale del popolo romano compare
soltanto colla repubblica, allorchè sentivasi già il bisogno di limitare in
qualche modo il sovrano po tere, disgiungendone la parte che si riferiva alla
religione, la quale ebbe ad essere ripartita fra il pontifex maximus ed il rex
sa crorum; e fino a un certo punto esso è ancora il pater patratus del popolo
romano, come lo dimostra il fatto, che nelle descrizioni dei più antichi
trattati sono i capi dei due popoli, che vengono alla stipu lazione del foedus
e al compimento solenne delle cerimonie del ius foederale o foeciale, mentre
gli eserciti si limitano a salutarsi re ciprocamente, e così approvano
tacimente l'opera dei proprii capi (1). Verò è, che già fin dal periodo regio
noi troviamo l'istituzione dei collegii sacerdotali, ma questa creazione è
opera del re stesso, nè essi hanno, anche nella città patrizia, alcuna
partecipazione diretta all'e (1) Ciò appare dal seguente passo di Livio, I, 1,
a cui se ne potrebbero aggiungere molti altri: « inde foedus ictum inter duces,
inter exercitus salutationem factam.] sercizio del pubblico potere; ma sono
soltanto, come si dimostrerà a suo tempo, depositarii e custodi delle
tradizioni giuridiche, politiche, internazionali delle genti e delle tribù, da
cui essi sono tolti, e aiu tano così il re nella opera di unificazione
legislativa, che dovette essere urgente cosa e difficile negli inizii di Roma,
per trattarsi di città, che risultava dalle confederazioni di genti, che
appartenevano a stirpi diverse (1). Vero è parimenti, che durante il periodo
regio già appariscono altre cariche, quali sono quelle del tribunus celerum,
dei quaestores parricidii, e deiduumviri perduellionis; ma anche questi non
sono che ufficiali dipendenti dal re, e da lui nominati. Di qui la conseguenza,
che è solo il re o qualche suo delegato, che può essere preceduto dai fasci dei
littori e dalle scuri, simbolo del pubblico potere. È esso parimenti, che solo
può convocare il popolo e il senato, salvo che egli deleghi questo potere al
tribunus celerum o al praefectus urbis (2). È quindi vero, che colla creazione
del regis imperium si rias sumono in una sintesi potente tutte le
manifestazioni del magi stratus nel periodo gentilizio, e si inizia lo
svolgimento di tutti i poteri, che possono convenire ad una comunanza civile e
politica. Nel rex insomma, per usare una espressione dello Spencer, termina
l'integrazione del potere preparatasi nel periodo gentilizio, e da esso
incomincia quella differenziazione del potere pubblico, che dovrà poi operarsi
nella città. 203. Per quello poi, che si riferisce ai poteri che sono inchiusi
nell'imperium regis, indarno si cercherebbero quelle decise ripar tizioni, che
compariranno più tardi. L'imperium regis è una con cezione logica, più che
l'opera di una costituzione scritta, e quindi egli può compiere tutto ciò, che
può essere indicato coi vocaboli di agere, di ius dicere, di rogare, di
imperare. Egli deve pren dere norma più dalla funzione, che è chiamato a
compiere nella città, che non da una precisa e particolareggiata determinazione
del (1) Quanto al compito dei collegi sacerdotali in Roma primitiva, mi rimetto
a quanto avrò a dirne in questo stesso libro, capitolo IV, § 2º. (2) Secondo il
LANGE, Histoire intérieure de Rome, pag. 115, sarebbe, valendosi di questo
potere, che Giunio Bruto, come tribunus celerum o Spurio Lucrezio Trici pitino,
quale praefectus urbis, avrebbero convocato il popolo, dopo la cacciata dei
Tarquinii: quantunque sia probabile, che in circostanze del tutto eccezionali
non siasi forse pensato all'adempimento di tutte le formalità. 248 proprio
uffizio. Tuttavia già fin da quest'epoca nel potere regio si possono
distinguere atteggiamenti diversi, che cominciano a diffe renziarsi mediante i
vocaboli di auspicia, di imperium domi, e di imperium militiae. A lui quindi si
appartiene di assumere gli au spicii, allorchè trattasi di qualche
deliberazione, che si riferisca al pubblico interesse, cosicchè, già fin da
questo periodo, gli auspicia publica si vengono a distinguere dagli auspicia
privata. Nell' as sumere tali auspicii potrà valersi dell'opera degli auguri,
ma a questi solo si appartiene la custodia dei riti e il compimento delle
cerimonie tradizionali; mentre è al re stesso, che si appartiene di giudicare
se essi siano favorevoli o non lo siano (1). Così pure ha l'imperium
domimilitiaeque, col quale incomincia una distinzione, le cui traccie si
perpetuano per tutta la storia politica e militare di Roma. Per verità, se i
Romani credettero di porre dei confini al l'imperium nei confini della città, e
vollero che i consoli, entrando nella medesima, facessero togliere le scuri dai
fasci, e facessero abbassare anche questi, allorchè concionavano il popolo,
compresero però la necessità, che le scuri fossero rimesse nei fasci, e che la
provocatio ad populum fosse tolta di mezzo, allorchè si trattava di mantenere
la disciplina dell'esercito; quasi si potrebbe dire, che a Roma il re o il
magistrato rogat in tempo di pace, e imperat in tempo di guerra. In virtù
dell'imperium militiae, egli fa la leva (delectus) ed è capitano supremo in
tempo di guerra (2 ): nè può ammettersi l'opi nione, secondo cui il re sarebbe
il duce della fanteria, mentre il tribunus celerum sarebbe quello della
cavalleria, in quanto che quest'ultimo non è che un ufficiale da lui stesso
nominato, e quindi, sebbene guidi il proprio drappello, che forma il corteggio
militare del re, deve però sempre dipendere dagli ordini del capo supremo. In
virtù poi dell'imperium domi, il re convoca i comizi: ra duna il senato;
amministra giustizia, non nella propria casa, ma all'aperto, in cospetto della
cittadinanza; propone le leggi; e (1) Cfr. Mommsen, Le droit public romain, I
pag. 119, ove discorre della proce dura seguìta nel prendere gli auspicia, e
del compito affidato agli auguri. Sulla distinzione fra l'imperium domi e
l'imperium militiae è da vedersi la trattazione magistrale del Mommsen, op. cit.,
I, pag. 68 e 69 e sui poteri compresi nell'imperium militiae, ivi, pag. 135 e
157. Non occorre però di notare, che tutti questi poteri nell' epoca regia
sono, per dir così, allo stato embrionale, e solo più tardi ricevono tutto lo
sviluppo, di cui possono essere capaci. 249 infine nomina i cavalieri e i
senatori. Al qual proposito mi fo lecita la congettura, già accennata più
sopra, che nella costituzione primitiva di Roma i senatori ed i cavalieri, i
quali finirono poi per mutarsi in due classi o ordini sociali, indicati coi
vocaboli di ordo senatorius e di ordo equestris, furono due corpi scelti, in
base a un numero determinato, dall'assemblea delle curie. I primi scelti fra i
giovani, splendidi nella propria armatura, formano la corte militare del re;
mentre i secondi, scelti fra gli anziani, ne costitui scono il consiglio; donde
la naturale distinzione, in cui vennero ad essere posti l'uno e l'altro ordine,
e le lotte perfino di prevalenza, che poterono esservi fra i medesimi, allorchè
l'uno e l'altro già eransi profondamente trasformati. Un indizio di cið
l'abbiamo in questo, che negli inizii di Roma sembra esservi una correlazione
fra il numero degli equites e quello dei patres, col numero delle curie;
correlazione, che non tardd a scomparire, in quanto che il numero degli equites
si accrebbe coll'aumentare delle legioni, mentre il numero dei patres si
arrestò a trecento, fino agli ultimi anni della Repubblica. Di più il senato
costituisce un organo politico dello Stato, il che non può dirsi degli equites,
i quali hanno solo il pri vilegio di essere i primi chiamati a dare il proprio
voto (sex suf fragia ) nei comizii centuriati, al modo stesso, che anche più
tardi hanno, al pari dei senatori, un posto distinto nel circo per assi stere
ai pubblici spettacoli (1). 204. Questo è certo ad ognimodo, che nella
costituzione primitiva di Roma il re appare come l'elemento più operoso ed
intraprendente, per modo che la tradizione finisce per attribuire tutto
all'opera personale del re. Egli impone tasse, distribuisce terre, costruisce
(1) Parmi di scorgere un accenno all'idea qui svolta nel PANTALEONI, Storia ci
vile e costituzionale di Roma, I, nel IV ed ultimo appendice, ove discorre
dell'isti tuzione dei cavalieri a Roma e dell'ordine equestre. È poi Livio, I,
35, che parla dei « loca divisa patribus equitibusque » nel circo; altra prova
questa, che essi formavano fin dagli inizii due ordini distinti dal resto del
popolo delle curie. È poi degna di considerazione l'idea dello stesso
Pantaleoni, secondo cui gli equites costituiscono non solo un militaris ordo,
ma anche un ordo civilis, in quanto che ciò serve a spiegare, come essi abbiano
poi potuto trasformarsi nel l'ordo equestris. Del resto questo carattere
militare e civile ad un tempo è inerente a tutto il popolo delle curie, e a
tutte le istituzioni primitive di Roma, eccettuato il senato; sebbene siavi chi
attribuisce anche al senato un'origine militare. LATTES, Della composizione del
senato (Mem. Istituto Lombardo, 1870 ). 250 - edifizii. Può darsi, che la
tradizione colla sua tendenza a semplifi care e a sintetizzare i processi
seguiti, e a concentrare in un solo l'opera dei molti, abbia in questa parte
esagerata l'opera personale del re; ma ad ogni modo, quando si consideri che il
primo periodo di Roma fu essenzialmente un periodo di unificazione dei varii
ele menti, che concorrevano alla formazione della città, si dovrà sempre
riconoscere, che la parte più operosa nel compito comune doveva appartenere a
quell'elemento, che era chiamata ad unificarle. Allorchè trattasi della
formazione di una città (e si potrebbe anche dire di uno Stato e di una
nazione), importa sopratutto l'agere; soltanto si potrà fare una parte maggiore
al consulere, allorchè si tratterà di provvedere all'amministrazione interna, o
a quella delle provincie; sarà infine soltanto, allorchè saranno ferme le basi
della grandezza dello Stato, che potranno svolgersi largamente il iubere e il
constituere. Cid intanto prova ad evidenza che il potere del re in Roma pri
mitiva aveva già assunto un carattere essenzialmente politico e mi litare, come
quello, che conteneva in germe tutti quei poteri essen zialmente politici, che
furono poscia affidati a magistrature diverse. Nelle forme esteriori può ancora
assomigliarsi ad un padre: ma nella sostanza è già un principe, ossia il primo
del popolo (prin ceps), è il duce dell'esercito, e il magistrato della città. Un
carattere analogo può riscontrarsi eziandio nel senato, quale appare nella
costituzione primitiva di Roma. Può darsi benis simo, che il nome stesso di
senatus sia una sopravvivenza dell'or ganizzazione gentilizia, come lo è
certamente quello di patres, che fu dato ai senatori, e che essi conservarono
anche più tardi, allorchè certamente avevano cessato di esser tali. Può darsi
eziandio, che il primo concetto del senatus potesse essere suggerito da quel
consi glio domestico, che temperava talvolta il potere del primitivo capo di
famiglia, od anche dal consiglio degli anziani, che provvedeva all'interesse
comune della gente. Questo ad ogni modo è fuori di ogni dubbio, che il senato
romano assume fin dai proprii inizii un ca rattere eminentemente politico, e
che presentasi come l'applicazione di un concetto, che i Romani avevano
profondamente radicato, il quale consisteva in ciò, che tanto il regis imperium,
quanto il iussus populi abbisognassero di un ritegno in quell'autorità, che
viene ad essere attribuita dall'esperienza e dall’età. Di qui conseguita, che
la patrum auctoritas, allorchè comparenella costituzione primitiva di Roma, non
è un'autorità, i cui limiti siano stabiliti e determinati; ma è anch'essa una
costruzione logica, che potrà col tempo rice vere tutto quello svolgimento, di
cui può essere capace il concetto ispiratore della medesima. Di essa, come
dell'imperium regis, non potrebbe dirsi quale sia l'influenza, che verrà ad
esercitare sulle sorti di Roma; solo si conosce la funzione che, in base al
proprio concetto informatore, è chiamata ad esercitare nella costituzione
politica della città. Saranno poi gli eventi, che additeranno al senatus la via
che dovrà seguire, i limiti in cui dovrà contenersi, e i casi eziandio, in cui
dovrà forzare il proprio ufficio e spingerlo perfino oltre i confini, in cui la
logica dell'istituzione dovrebbe contenerlo. 206. Siccome perd la funzione del
consulere, per essere una fun zione intermedia, ha per sua natura una
indeterminatezza molto maggiore, che non quella dell'agere e del iubere; così
ne viene, che i poteri del senato presentano negli inizii ed anche nello svolgi
mento posteriore un carattere vago ed indeterminato, che dipenderà
dall'influenza effettiva e reale, che i membri, che lo compongono, saranno in
condizione di esercitare sull'andamento della cosa pubblica. Possono esservi
dei consigli che, per le persone da cui vengono, si cambiano in ordini ed in
comandi, per quanto siano accompagnati dalla formola « si eis videbitur »; al
modo stesso, che possono esservi dei responsi e degli avvisi, che, per
l'autorità della persona, da cui partono, possono anche valere come sentenza,
contro cui non sia consentito di appellare. Queste esplicazioni sono frequenti
nella lo gica romana, e sono esse, che possono spiegare in qual modo il se nato,
pressochè lasciato in disparte dallo spirito intraprendente dei re, che
dovevano preferire l'appoggio dell'elemento popolare e quello anche della plebe,
abbia potuto, senza romperla affatto col concetto ispiratore della propria
istituzione, cambiarsi colla Repubblica nel l'organo più potente della
costituzione politica di Roma, per guisa da attribuire ai proprii avvisi
(consulta ) l'autorità di vere leggi; (1) Parmi di trovar espresso questo
concetto, a proposito di Romolo, in CICERONE, de Rep. II, 8. 252 mentre invece
coll'Impero viene ad essere ridotto a concedere la propria autorità ai decreti
di un principe, al cui arbitrio non era più in caso di poter resistere. 207.
Del resto questo carattere non è proprio solo del senato, ma di tutti gli
organi della costituzione politica di Roma, nella quale, ad esempio, occorre un
magistrato, come quello del censore, che in caricato dapprima di una funzione,
che sembrava non adatta alla di gnità di un console, quale si era quella della
compilazione del censo, cambiasi poi in censore del pubblico e del privato
costume, in elet tore supremo del senato, e per la dignità finisce in certo
modo per essere considerato come superiore allo stesso console. Nè altrimenti
accade anche delle magistrature plebee, e sopratutto dei tribuni della plebe, i
quali negli inizii non hanno che il ius auxilii, e non mirano che a difendere i
debitori dai maltrattamenti dei creditori, e i plebei dai maltrattamenti del
console; ma poi da ausiliatori si mutano in organizzatori della plebe, in
accusatori del patriziato, e nell'organo certamente più efficace del
pareggiamento giuridico e politico della plebe; finchè da ultimo il potere
tribunizio, che continua pur sempre ad essere circondato dal favor popolare,
mutasi ancor esso nella base più salda, sovra cui poggi ildispotismo imperiale.
È quindi sopratutto in Roma, che qualsiasi aspetto del potere sovrano tanto
vale quanta è la tempra della persona, che trovasi investito di esso, e quanto
è l'appoggio, che esso trova nella pubblica opinione, con quest'unica
limitazione, che esso deve trattenersi nei limiti del concetto, a cui si
informa dai proprii inizii. Questo concetto da una significazione materiale
potrà passare ad una significazione morale e politica, sic come accadde del
censore, che da compilatore del cengo si cambiò in censore del costume, dalla
difesa potrà anche passare all'accusa, in uno scopo di difesa, siccome fecero i
tribuni della plebe;ma intanto nel proprio sviluppo sarà costantemente percorso
da una logica interna, a cui i Romani seppero mantenersi fedeli, non solo nelle
istituzioni giuridiche, ma anche in quelle politiche. Questo carattere perd so
pratutto si appalesa nell'istituzione del senato. Potere consultivo nelle
proprie origini trovò opposizione nel partito popolare, allorchè cerco di
cambiare i proprii senatusconsulti in leggi; ma anche in quei senatusconsulti,
che ebbero autorità di vere leggi, esso si propose costantemente di esercitare
sulla comunanza un ' autorità di carat tere consultivo e pressochè di
protezione e di tutela: come lo pro 253 vano il senatusconsulto intorno ai
Baccanali, ed i senatusconsulti Macedoniano e Velleiano. Intanto per tornare
all'argomento, questo è certo che tutti gli autori sono concordi nel descrivere
il senato come elettivo fin dagli inizii di Roma. Festo anzi ci attesta, che la
nomina attribuita al re era più libera di quella, che più tardi appartenne al
censore, in quanto che l'essere lasciati in disparte dal re (praeteriti sena
tores) non era riputato ignominia; il che fu invece di quei ma gistrati,
uscenti d'uffizio, che, avendo le condizioni per entrare nel senato, non vi
fossero chiamati dal censore, o fossero rimossi dal medesimo, se già ne
facevano parte (1). 208. L'incertezza invece è grande, quanto alle funzioni,
che da esso furono effettivamente esercitate; il che provenne probabilmente da
ciò, che, trattandosi di un potere di carattere vago ed indeterminato, gli
autori, e fra gli altri Dionisio, non potendo attribuirgli dei poteri
determinati da una costituzione scritta, dovettero sforzarsi ad asse gnargli
quei poteri, che sembravano convenire alla funzione, che esso era chiamato ad
esercitare. Questo è certo ad ogni modo, che le sue funzioni, anche durante il
periodo regio, furono essenzialmente con sultive. Esse anzi sembrano ancora
tenere del patriarcale, come quando i senatori son chiamati a fare ripartizioni
di terre fra le popolazioni di classe inferiore, e quando ad essi viene
affidata, almeno secondo Dionisio, la punizione dei delitti meno importanti,
mentre il re sarebbesi riservata la giurisdizione sui più gravi. Non può invece
ammettersi, perchè ripugna al carattere dell'istituzione, che il re, dopo aver
chiesto l'avviso del senato, fosse obbligato ad attenervisi: inquantochè, se
questo fosse stato il carattere degli avvisi dati al re, che da solo aveva per
tutta la vita quei poteri, che poscia furono non solo suddivisi fra magistrati
diversi, ma anche attenuati e limitati quanto alla propria durata, per maggior
ragione i senatusconsulti avrebbero conservato e spinto anche più oltre questo
carattere, allor chè, durante il periodo repubblicano, il senato venne ad
essere pres sochè onnipotente. Sembra invece, per quello che risulta dagli
avveni menti,cheil senato, durante il periodo regio, non abbia potuto
esercitare tutta quella influenza, che spiego più tardi; cosicchè, quando volle
(1 ) Festo, V ° Praeteriti senatores (Bruns, Fontes, pag. 355). (2 ) Dion. 2,
12, 14, il cui testo è riportato in greco ed in latino dal Bruns, Fontes, pag.
4 e 5. 254 - contrastare alla intraprendente operosità del re ed alle
innovazioni dal medesimo tentate, dovette ricorrere all'intermezzo degli auguri
e dei sacerdoti, come lo dimostra la tradizione relativa all'augure sabino Atto
Nevio, all'epoca di Tarquinio Prisco. Il suo potere con sultivo trovavasi
inefficace di fronte ad un re a vita, che aveva per sè l'appoggio del popolo
non solo,ma anche della plebe, la quale già cominciava ad esercitare
un'influenza, se non di diritto, almeno di fatto. Quindi fu solo colla cacciata
dei re, che il senato, consesso permanente fra magistrati, che mutavano ogni
anno, e che usciti dalla magistratura entravano a farne parte, divenuto così
custode della politica tradizionale diRoma, sopratutto nei rapporti esteriori,
potè dare al concetto ispiratore dell'istituzione tutta la portata logica, di
cui poteva essere capace, e forse spingerla anche oltre i confini, che dalla
logica erano consentiti. 209. Sopratutto sono gravi i dubbii e le incertezze
intorno alla composizione ed al numero dei senatori, durante il periodo esclusi
vamente patrizio; al qual riguardo parmi impossibile di ricomporre e coordinare
i pochi e non concordanti accenni, che pervennero fino a noi, senza ricostrurre
il processo logico, che segui la politica dei re nel formare e nell'accrescere
il senato primitivo di Roma. In proposito tutti gli autori sembrano essere
concordi nell'atte stare, che Roma, nella sua primitiva formazione, non fece
che imi tare, quanto al senato, l'organizzazione delle altre città latine;
quindi il suo senato appare dapprima limitato al numero di cento, che sembra
appunto essere il numero adottato per le altre città latine, e per gli stessi
municipii, che ebbero poi ad essere organizzati sul modello ro mano (1).
Tuttavia la politica di Roma, che nel periodo regio non pensa ancora a
chiudersi in sè stessa,mapiuttosto ad aggregarsi nuovi ele menti, condusse in
questa parte a modificare il modello latino. Al lorchè trattavasi di associare
nuove popolazioni alle sorti di Roma, il processo a seguirsi non poteva offrire
difficoltà, finchè trattavasi soltanto di famiglie o di individui, che
appartenessero alla plebe. Questa non era ancora organizzata o almeno lo era in
guisa tale, che poteva accogliere, senza difficoltà, qualsiasi nuovo elemento.
Di più (1) Liv. I, 8; Dion., II, 12; Cic., De Rep., II, 12. Che il senato o
meglio l'ordo decurionum delle colonie e dei municipii si componesse
solitamente di cento, appare da ciò, che essi talvolta erano perfino chiamati
centumviri. Cfr. Willems, Le droit public romain, pag. 535. 255 l'Aventino, che
sembra essere il colle, sovra cui accentrasi di prefo renza la comunanza
plebea, è ancora spopolato, e fu anche più tardi lasciato fuori della cinta
Serviana, in modo da poter offrire territorio e spazio, ove le nuove famiglie
si possano stabilire. Tutto al più oc correrà di far loro concessioni di terre,
che sotto la tutela del ius mancipii porgano loro un mezzo sicuro di provvedere
al proprio sostentamento. Cosi invece non accade, allorchè trattasi di famiglie,
che già abbiano ottenuta posizione elevata nella comunanza, a cui esse
appartengono, e tanto più se trattasi di quelle, che,mediante l'orga nizzazione
gentilizia e le numerose clientele, siano in condizione tale da offrire un
contingente poderoso alla crescente popolazione romana. Allora anche Roma deve
venire a patti, in quanto che genti nume rose e potenti difficilmente si
disporrebbero ad abbandonare la pro pria sede gentilizia, quando non fossero
accolte nell'ordine patrizio, mediante la cooptatio, e quando non potessero
ottenere, che i loro capi entrassero nel senato, e i gentili, che entrano a
costituirle, non fossero ammessi a far parte delle curie. Quanto a quest'ul
time, non occorre dimutare l'ordinamento primitivo della costituzione romana,
nè di aumentarne il numero, poichè, non essendo determinato il numero dei
componenti ciascuna curia, le curie costituiscono dei quadri, che possono anche
accogliere gli elementi, che si vengono aggiungendo. Cosi non è invece del
senato; la consuetudine latina vorrebbe che il medesimo fosse limitato al
numero di cento, e tale esso fu veramente nelle origini, secondo la tradizione,
e lo fu anche più tardi nei municipii e nelle colonie: ma, una volta completato
questo numero, sarebbe stato necessario arrestarsi, salvo di appigliarsi al
partito di aggiungere un determinato numero disenatori, ogniqual volta si
avverasse in una sola volta una considerevole aggregazione di genti patrizie.
Tuttavia non è nel costume dei romani di abbandonare senz'altro il numero
prefisso, poichè tutto ciò, che viene daimaggiori, è sacro per essi. Quindi,
siccome Roma risulta in certo modo dalla confederazione di un triplice elemento:
così il senato potè essere portato fino a trecento, il qual numero aveva anche
il vantaggio di essere in esatta correlazione con quello delle curie, e di non
contrastare cosi colla composizione simmetrica della città. 210. Come e quando
siasi fatta quest'aggiunta, non è bene atte stato. Alcuni, ritenendo che Roma
avesse successivamente incorpo rato nelle sue curie le tre tribù primitive,
direbbero, che i primi cento senatori furono tolti dalle tribù dei Ramnenses,
gli altri, che 256 vengono dopo, dai Titienses, e gli altri infine dai Luceres:
la cui aggregazione sarebbe accaduta sotto Tarquinio Prisco, al quale ap punto
si attribuisce di aver portato a trecento il numero dei sena tori (1). Questa
spiegazione sarebbe abbastanza verosimile, allorchè non fosse contraddetta
dalla tradizione, che fa rimontare fino al regno di Romolo la federazione delle
tre primitive tribù. Di più se veramente quest'aumento si fosse fatto, allorchè
una nuova tribù veniva aggregata, non si comprenderebbe come potesse parlarsi
di Ramnenses, Titienses e Luceres primi et secundi; la quale distin zione
appare essere stata introdotta nelle centurie dei cavalieri, il cui aumento
sembra, quanto alle epoche, in cui è seguito, corrispondere all'aumento nel
numero dei senatori. Di qui deriva la conseguenza, che la spiegazione più
verosimile del processo, che è stato seguito in questo argomento, sia quella
stessa, che ci viene additata dalla tradi zione. Le tre piccole tribù, che
costituirono Roma primitiva, non potevano essere tali da offrire il numero di
trecento senatori, e Livio ci dice appunto, che il numero del senato primitivo
fu di cento, per chè Romolo non ne trovò un numero maggiore che fosse degno di
sedere nel senato (2). Ma intanto, dopo la primitiva costituzione romulea, che
sarebbesi avverata in seguito alla federazione delle tribù dei Titienses, sono
due sopratutto gli avvenimenti, che, du rante il periodo della città
esclusivamente patrizia, contribuirono ad un forte aumento del patriziato
romano. 211. Il primo di questi avvenimenti consiste nella sconfitta di Alba,
in seguito al combattimento degli Orazii e dei Curiazii, il quale, come ho già
notato altrove, più che una vera e propria scon fitta, deve piuttosto essere
considerato comeuna specie diduello giu diziario, a cui si rimisero i due
popoli fratelli per sapere quale delle due città dovesse essere centro della
vita pubblica per le po polazioni, che ne dipendevano. In quella circostanza
infatti la (1) Tale è l'opinione sostenuta dal WILLEMS, Le Sénat de la
république romaine, Paris, 1878, I, pag. 21 e segg.; dal Bloch, Les origines du
Sénat romain, Paris, 1883, pag. 43 e 55; i quali pure accennano alle diverse
opinioni professate in proposito. (2) Liv., I, 8. È però a notarsi, che Livio
farebbe rimontare la composizione del senato per opera di Romolo, ad un'epoca
anteriore all'aggregazione coi Sabini, mentre parla invece della formazione
delle trenta curie, come avvenuta posteriormente. In ciò è però contraddetto da
CICERONE, che accenna alla formazione del senato, dopo la federazione coi
Sabini. De Rep., II, 8. (3 ) V. sopra, lib. I, Cap. VIII, nº 144. 257
tradizione narra, che la parte povera della popolazione latina entrò a far
parte della plebe, ed ottenne delle concessioni di terre. Quanto alle genti
patrizie, noi sappiamo, che uno dei patti era quello, che esse dovessero venir
accolte nel patriziato romano, e noi sappiamo in effetto, che così accadde. Ora
l'effetto naturale di questa coo ptatio era, che i capi di queste genti
dovessero essere ammessi nel senato, il che non avrebbe potuto essere fatto,
senza aumentare il numero dei senatori. Se quindi ci mancassero anche le
testimo nianze di un tale aumento in questa occasione, non sarebbe invero
simile il supporlo; sonvi invece degli storici, i quali, senza accennare
espressamente alle proporzioni di tale aumento, attestano però che esso dovette
aver luogo. Così, ad esempio, Livio attribuisce a Tullo Ostilio di aver
duplicato il numero dei cittadini; di aver accolto nei patres i principali
cittadini d'Alba; di aver costrutto in quell'occa sione la curia Ostilia; e di
aver aggiunto dieci torme di cavalieri, acciò a ciascun ordine si recasse un
contributo dal nuovo popolo. Così pure Dionisio parla di un aumento fatto nel
patriziato e nel senato all'epoca di Tullo, in occasione della distruzione di
Alba, seb bene poi non accenni le proporzioni dell'aumento (1). Il numero tut
tavia si può argomentare da ciò, che entrambi affermano più tardi, che
Tarquinio Prisco elesse altri cento senatori, e ne portò così il numero a
trecento, il qual numero non avrebbe potuto essere raggiunto, se nel frattempo
e precisamente all'epoca di Tullo Ostilio non si fossero aggiunti gli altri
cento (2). Alcuni, e fra gli altri il Pantaleoni, vor rebbero, che il secondo
centinaio si fosse aggiunto coll'aggregarsi della tribù Tiziense; ma ciò non
può essere ammesso, in quanto che l'ordinamento politico della città, per opera
di Romolo, era già se guito dopo l'aggregazione di questa tribù, come lo
dimostra la tra dizione, che le trenta curie avrebbero perfino ricevuto il loro
nome dalle donne sabine; inoltre, cid ammettendo, rimarrebbe inesplicato
quell'aumento, che certo ebbe a verificarsi sotto Tullo Ostilio (3 ). 212.
Quanto all'ultimo aumento, la tradizione e concorde nell'attri (1) LIV., I, 30;
Dion., III, 29. (2) Liv., I, 35 dice di Tarquinio Prisco « centum in patres
legit »; e Dion., III, 62: « Et tunc primum populus tercentos senatores habuit,
qui ducentos tantum ad eam usque diem fuerant ». (3) PANTALEONI, Storia civile
e costituzionale di Roma. Appendice III, pag. 645 a 672. G. CARLE, Le origini
dil diritto di Roma. 17 258 buirlo a Tarquinio Prisco; ma vi ha divergenza nel
modo, in cui sa rebbesi operato. Cicerone dice, che egli avrebbe duplicato il numero
dei senatori, e portatolo cosi a trecento, il che farebbe supporre, che
anteriormente fossero soli cento cinquanta, il qual numero non può essere
ammesso, perchè non risponde ai numeri comunemente seguiti dai Romani, e dai
quali non solevano scostarsi. Resta quindi la testi monianza concorde di
Dionisio e di Livio, che l'aumento da lui fatto sia stato di cento senatori.
Questi nuovi senatori, alcuni vogliono che fos sero delle genti Albane: ma è
ovvio l'osservare, che non può essere probabile, che genti, entrate nella
comunanza fin dall'epoca di Tullo Ostilio, siano rimaste tutto questo tempo
senza rappresentanti nel se nato. Altri invece, come il Pantaleoni, sostengono
che i nuovi senatori aggiunti fossero tratti dalla tribù dei Luceres, i quali,
a suo avviso, deriverebbero il proprio nome da Lucer, che in Etrusco
corrisponde rebbe a Lucius (1); ma contro quest'opinione vi ha sempre la consi
derazione, che se questi entravano per la prima volta nella comunanza romana,
non poteva esservi motivo, perchè le nuove centurie di equi tes, ricarate da
essi, si chiamassero Luceres posteriores o secundi. Ciò indica, che dovevano
esservi i Luceres primi, i quali erano en trati prima nella comunanza; il qual
fatto potrebbe forse essere spie gato colla tradizione, serbataci da Varrone,
secondo cui Romolo in guerra coi Sabini avrebbe avuto soccorso dai Lucumoni
Etruschi, uno dei quali (forse Celes Vibenna, che dette nome al Celio, già
compreso nell'antico Septimontium ) avrebbe anche preso parte alla confede
razione, che segui allora fra i due popoli, sebbene le sue genti siano state
forse collocate in condizione inferiore (2). Bensi è probabile, che le genti,
da cui si trassero i nuovi senatori, potessero essere altre genti, pure di
origine Etrusca, come i Luceres primi, le quali fossero venute a Roma al
seguito di Tarquinio e della sua gente: il che spiega molto meglio, che non la
leggenda di Tanaquilla, comemaiTarquinio, appena giunto a Roma, abbia potuto
avere un seguito e un appoggio così forte nella popolazione romana, da aspirare
e da ottenere colle (1) PANTALEONI, op. cit., pag. 660. (2 ) L'opinione di
VARRONE a questo proposito è ricordata da SERvio, in Aen., V, ove scrive: « nam
constat tres fuisse partes populi Romani. Varro tamen dicit, Romulum dimicantem
contra Titum Tatium, a Lucumonibus, id est Tuscis, auxilia postulasse; unde
quidam venit cum exercitu; cui, recepto iam Tatio, pars urbis data est ». Del
resto anche Livio, I, 13, fa rimontare a Romolo l'aggregazione dei Lu ceres
primi, solo mettendo in dubbio la loro origine. 259 forme tradizionali la
dignità regia. Egli tuttavia non potè passar sopra almetodo essenzialmente
romano, che è quello di porre come primi quelli, che veramente sono tali, e
quindi dovette collocare i nuovi senatori nel novero dei patres minorum gentium;
quest'appellazione tuttavia non sembra tanto indicare la minor dignità delle
medesime, quanto il loro essere entrati più tardi a far parte della comunanza.
È questo il motivo, per cui dovevano essere chiamati gli ultimi a dare il
proprio avviso; al modo stesso, che anche più tardi nei co mizii centuriati
erano chiamati primi a dare il loro suffragio i se niores, ossia i maiores natu,
e soltanto dopo venivano i iuniores, che erano i minores natu. Cid dimostra,
che, trattandosi di un processo costantemente seguito, non può ricavarsene
indizio di minor dignità di questi senatori, ma solo della costanza romana in
appli care il principio: « prior in tempore, potior in iure ». 213. Le genti
insomma, che, a nostro avviso, si vennero ag giungendo, escono da quelle
stirpi, a cui appartenevano le tribù, la cui confederazione primitiva aveva
dato origine alla città dei quiriti, e per tal modo si spiega come esse abbiano
potuto esservi attirate dalle aderenze e parentele, che già potevano avere in
Roma, e come, offrendosi ad entrare nella nuova città, abbiano po tuto esservi
accolte. A misura però, che esse erano conglobate, do vevano pure avere una
rappresentanza nel senato, e così il numero di questo venne ad essere portato a
trecento; il quale, essendo in correlazione con quello delle curie, non ebbe ad
essere più superato fino all'epoca dei dittatori, che prepararono l'Impero.
D'altronde le occasioni di aumento vennero mancando dappoi: perché quando la
città patrizia ha riempiuto il vuoto dei suoi quadri, essa comincia a
rinchiudersi in sè stessa, e a vece di farsi grande, mediante le federazioni e
le cooptazioni, si propone invece di affermare la pro pria superiorità sugli
altri popoli, e di associare la comunanza ple bea, di cui trovasi circondata, all'avvenire
della sua città. Bene è vero, che si verifica ancora più tardi la cooptazione
della gente Claudia: ma essa avverasi, quando erano troppi i vuoti nel senato,
perchè bisognasse aumentarne il numero, e poi trattavasi di una gente soltanto,
la quale, per quanto numerosa, non poteva occupare tanti seggi nel senato, da
richiedere un aumento nel numero. La spiegazione, che mi son fatto lecito di
proporre, quanto ai suc cessivi incrementi nel numero dei senatori, parmi, fra
le moltissime che si posero innanzi, che si concilii più facilmente colla tradi
260 zione e col processo eminentemente romano di far procedere di pari passo
gli aumenti, chesi introducono nel senato, con quelli dell'or dine dei
cavalieri e di tutti gli ordini della popolazione; non poten dosi negare, che
nel concetto primitivo della città tutte le parti di essa debbono essere
simmetriche, proporzionate e coerenti fra di loro. La medesima intanto ci
prepara anche la via a risolvere la questione, intorno alla composizione del
senato nel periodo regio. 214. Gli storici, al modo stesso che parlano talvolta
dei comizii curiati, come se essi abbracciassero l'intiero popolo, il quale
all'e poca, in cui essi scrivevano, comprendeva anche la plebe, così sem brano
talvolta accennare a nomine, che i re avrebbero fatte di se natori, che non
sarebbero stati tolti dalle genti patrizie; e cid fra gli altri attribuiscono
allo stesso Tarquinio Prisco. Un tale fatto sembra anzitutto essere smentito
dalla circostanza, che anche questi nuovi senatori sono chiamati patres minorum
gentium, denomina zione, che poteva solo accomodarsi all'ordine patrizio, il
quale consi derava come un suo privilegio la gentilità. A ciò si aggiunge, che
in quest'epoca la distanza era ancora troppo grande fra i due ordini, perchè
deimembridella plebe potessero essere ammessi nell'ordine più elevato della
cittadinanza romana, tanto più se i plebei, come dimo strerò a suo tempo, non
erano ancora ammessi a far parte delle curie. Ritengo quindi in proposito, che
l'opinione più probabile e più conforme al processo solitamente seguito nello
svolgimento politico di Roma, ove i cambiamenti, più che da arbitrio di uomini,
sogliono derivare dal processo naturale delle cose, sia quella, che
l'ammessione della plebe al senato dovette essere una naturale conseguenza del
l'ammessione di essa a far parte del populus delle classi e delle centurie;
poichè, modificandosi la composizione di uno degli organi essenziali della
costituzione, che erano i comizii, anche il senato dovette subire un'analoga trasformazione
(1 ). Più tardi poi, allorchè (1 ) Il WILLEMS, nella sua opera: Le Sénat de la
République romaine, I, 19, 28 e poi anche nel Droit public romain, pag. 46,
sostiene invece che i plebei non sareb bero stati ammessi nel senato, che a
misura che furono ammessi alle magistrature ed agli onori. Tale opinione
trovasi in contraddizione col fatto, che gli storici attri buiscono a Giunio
Bruto od a P. Valerio di aver colmato i vuoti lasciati nel senato da Tarquinio
il Superbo, mediante persone tolte dalla plebe più ricca ed agiata (ex
primoribus equestris gradus); la qual tradizione ha nulla di ripugnante, perchè
il cambiamento nella composizione del popolo richiedeva una modificazione
correlativa - - 261 - i senatori cessarono in realtà di essere nominati
esclusivamente fra i patres delle antiche gentes, ma furono scelti fra i
magistrati, uscenti di ufficio: ne consegui per una naturale evoluzione di
cose, che anche i plebei, che un tempo non avrebbero potuto esservi am messi
per nascita, poterono esservi ammessi per la dignità, che avevano coperto.
Probabilmente fu poi in questo secondo periodo, e in conse guenza di questa
trasformazione, per cui la dignità e gli onori con seguiti cominciano a tener
luogo della nascita, che i capi delle grandi famiglie plebee, che erano già
pervenute al ius imaginum, e ave vano così imitata l'organizzazione gentilizia,
poterono perfino entrare a far parte delle curie; le quali, se avevano perduta
ogni loro im portanza politica, continuavano però sempre ad avere una impor
tanza grande sotto l'aspetto religioso e sacerdotale, sopratutto per coloro,
che già eguali in influenza e in ricchezza al patriziato pri mitivo, potevano
desiderare di apparire loro eguali, anche nella no biltà di origine. § 6. – I
comizii curiati e la populi potestas. 215. Anche i comizii curiati, che furono
l'unica assemblea del popolo romano, finchè durò la città esclusivamente
patrizia, appa riscono vigorosamente tratteggiati nella costituzione primitiva
di Roma. Per quanto i medesimi abbiano poscia perduto della propria importanza
e siansi ridotti ad un'assemblea di carattere gentilizio e sacerdotale, che può
quasi considerarsi come una sopravvivenza dell'antico ordine di cose; ciò però
non toglie, che essi siano stati il modello, sovra cui più tardi si vennero
foggiando tutte le altre assemblee del popolo romano. Fu quindi solo più tardi,
allorchè si videro privati di ogni importanza politica e militare, che essi si
circo scrissero a funzioni meramente gentilizie e sacerdotali: manel loro
comparire essi hanno un carattere religioso, militare e politico ad anche nel
senato; ed anche perchè in tal modo il patriziato sottraeva alla plebe i capi
delle più potenti ed agiate famiglie. La questione della composizione del
senato all'epoca regia fu dottamente trattata dal Lattes nelle Memorie
dell'Istituto Lom bardo di scienze e lettere, vol. XI, Milano, 1870, il quale
inclina a credere che il numero primitivo fosse quello di 300, come quello, che
corrispondeva già al numero delle 30 curie. È poi degno di nota, che egli
attribuirebbe anche al senato primitivo un carattere militare. 262 un tempo (1).
Essi, nella costituzione politica della città, corrispondono all'assemblea
patriarcale della tribù, che accorre al cenno del proprio capo, per accordarsi
con esso intorno alle cose, che possono interes sare la comunanza. In questo
però le curie già differiscono da quella, che non comprendono tutta la
popolazione delle varie tribù, ma solo la parte eletta della medesima, ossia
coloro, che col braccio o col consiglio possono giovare alla cosa pubblica.
Esse quindi hanno per iscopo di far partecipare, sopra un piede di uguaglianza,
alla vita pubblica le varie tribù, la cui confederazione è concorsa a formare
le città (2 ). 216. I membri delle curie, come tali, chiamansi quirites, e sono
noti i dubbii intorno all'origine di questa denominazione. Sonvi coloro, che
fanno discendere il vocabolo da quiris, asta, che sa rebbe stata l'arma del
quirite, il simbolo del potere al medesimo spettante; nè l'etimologia può dirsi
inverosimile, quando si consideri, che nei carmi saliari il popolo ramnense è
chiamato populus pi lumnus, ossia il popolo del pilo, e viene così ad essere
qualificato anch'esso dall'arma, che lo contraddistingue (3). Altri invece, fra
i (1) Il carattere non solo politico, ma anche essenzialmente militare dei
comitia curiata, è stato posto in evidenza sopratutto dal IHERING, L'esprit du
droit romain, $ 20. Esso è poi provato dal seguente passo di Livo, V, 32: «
comitia curiata, qui rem militarem continent », e da un altro di Cicerone, De
lege agraria, II, 12, 30, ove è detto, che il console, finchè non abbia
ottenuta la legge curiata, non può as sumere il comando militare (rem militarem
attingere non licet). È però notabile, che il carattere militare di
quest'assemblea, che dapprima fu il più accentuato, come lo indica il nome
stesso di quirites, e l'asta di cui erano armati, fu anche il primo ad essere
perduto coll' introduzione dei comizii centuriati, che assunsero di preferenza
questo carattere militare: poscia i comizii curiati vennero perdendo anche il
carattere politico, allorchè la lex curiata de imperio fu ridotta ad una
semplice formalità e la patrum auctoritas fu tolta di mezzo dalla lex Hortensia
o dalla lex Moenia. Il carat tere invece, che sopravvisse più a lungo nelle
curie, fu il carattere religioso e sacer dotale, in quanto che fu in esse, che
si mantennero gli auspicia, come lo dimostra la nomina dell'interrex, la quale
viene ad essere loro affidata, in quanto i patres o pa tricii delle curie sono
i soli depositarii dei primitivi auspicia, e sono le curie, che presiedute dal
pontefice, continuano ad avere la custodia dei culti gentilizii e fa migliari.
Ciò spiega, come anche nell'età moderna, il vocabolo curia sia sopravissuto con
una significazione pressochè sacerdotale. (2) Cfr. il Bouché-LECLERCQ,
Manueldes institutions romaines, Paris, 1886, pag. 6 e 7, e il BourgeaUD, Le
plébiscite en Grèce et en Rome, Paris, 1887, pag. 39. (3) Cfr. PANTALEONI,
Storia civile e costituzionale di Roma. Appendice II, pag. 617. 263 quali, il
Niebhur, vogliono che fossero così chiamati da Curium o da Quirium, città
sabina, e che avessero ricevuto un tal nome, allorchè ai Ramnenses si unirono
per confederazione i Titienses (populus romanus et quiritium ) (1); la quale
opinione non pare si possa ac cogliere per il modo diverso, con cui sarebbero
indicati idue popoli insieme uniti, ed anche perchè il vocabolo di quirites,
più che l'origine, sembra indicare l'ufficio, il compito, a cui essi sono chia
mati di fronte alla città, poichè il nome loro nei rapporti esteriori continua
sempre ad essere quello di Romani. Altri infine, come il Lange, fanno provenire
il vocabolo da ciò, che essi facevano parte delle curiae, cosicchè quiriti
significherebbe per essi gli uomini delle curie (2). È perd facile il vedere,
che il vocabolo quirite, derivi da quiris o da curia, esprime pur sempre il
medesimo concetto, poichè è la lancia, che è il simbolo del potere di chi
appartiene alle curie, e sono i portatori di lancia, che sono i membri delle
curie. I quiriti quindi in ogni caso son chiamati tali, in quanto hanno
partecipazione effettiva al governo della cosa pubblica, mentre nei rapporti
esterni continuano ad essere Romani; cosicchè anche questa distinzione sembra
corrispondere, sotto un certo aspetto, a quella indicata coi vocaboli domi,
militiaeque. 217. I comisii poi sono la riunione solenne dei quiriti, allorchè
sono chiamati ad esercitare il loro sovrano potere. Finchè trattasi di semplici
notificazioni, che il re o i suoi delegati debbono fare al popolo, o di
discussioni intorno a qualche proposta di legge ba stano le semplici contiones.
In queste possono anche sentirsi gli oratori in pro e in contro; intervenire i
patres, quali moderatori del populus; e tenersi anche orazioni (conciones), le
quali, senza essere precisamente quelle da Dionisio e Livio attribuite ai
personaggi della loro storia, dovettero però essere ispirate alle circostanze,
in (1) NIEBAUR, Histoire romaine, I, 407. Questa opinione fu poi seguita dal
WALTER e da molti altri autori. Nella inedesima però vi ha questo di vero, che
il vocabolo di Quirites fu assunto dopo la confederazione coi Sabini, il che ci
è attestato espres samente da Festo. Vº Quirites: « Quirites autem, dicti post
foedus a Romulo et Tatio percussum, comunionem et societatem populi factam
indicant ». (2) LANGE, Histoire intérieure de Rome, pag. 29. Inering, L'esprit
du droit ro main, 1, $ 20, pag. 20. Secondo il Lange, il vocabolo quirites non
è però da con fondersi con quello di curialis; poichè quelli sono gli uoniini
delle curie in genere, mentre questo è colui, che appartiene ad una determinata
curia. 264 cui venivano pronunziate. Allorchè invece sono convocati i comizii,
tutti questi preliminari già sono compiuti, e il popolo, ordinato a guisa di un
esercito, si avvia unito al luogo della riunione, donde il vocabolo di comitium
(1 ). Quasi si direbbe, che nelle pubbliche de liberazioni il popolo romano
primitivo osservi un processo analogo a quello da lui seguito nelle sue
transazioni private. Finché trattasi di mettersi di accordo, è lecito discutere
e può anche adoperarsi quel dolus bonus, che mira a porre sotto l'aspetto più favorevole
la transazione proposta; ma allorchè il periodo delle trattative è finito, più
non occorre che una interrogazione ed una risposta, so lenni, ed allora: « quod
lingua nuncupassit, ita ius esto ». È in questo senso soltanto, che deve essere
inteso, ciò che attestano gli storici, che nei comizii, il popolo non poteva nè
discutere, nè di videre o modificare le proposte fattegli, ma solo accettare o
respin gere il candidato propostogli o la legge, oppure condannare od as solvere.
Già nelle adunanze anteriori erano seguite le discussioni, e queste ripetute
nei comizii avrebbero impedito quella solennità e quel silenzio, che
ritenevansi indispensabili nelle deliberazioni, che ri guardavano l'interesse
pubblico, e che avevano per i Romani primitivi alcunché di religioso e di sacro
(2 ). 218. I comizii pertanto erano preceduti dagli auspizii, per cono scere se
la volontà divina si palesasse favorevole, o non alla delibera zione, che si
stava per prendere; si radunavano in un luogo con sacrato, che chiamavasi
templum; e si tenevano in certi giorni, che i riti ritenevano adatti alle
pubbliche deliberazioni, i quali perciò chiamavansi dies comitiales. (1) Quanto
alla distinzione fra comitium e contio, vedi il KARLOWA, Röm. R. G. I, pag. 49.
È però a notarsi, che anche la contio non è una riunione qualsiasi del popolo,
ma suppone anch'essa una convocazione del magistrato, il che appare dal
seguente passo di Paolo Diacono: « Contio significat conventum; non tamen alium,
quam eum, qui a magistratu vel a sacerdote publico per praeconem convocatur ».
Ciò pur conferma Liv., 39, 15. (2 ) Combatto qui l'opinione universalmente
seguìta dagli autori, specialmente ger manici (v. fra i recenti Karlowa, Röm.
R.G., pag. 52), che riduce i c omizii ad una funzione puramente passiva
nella formazione delle leggi, in quanto che la medesima, a mio avviso, altera
il carattere del populus primitivo; il quale, composto di capi di famiglia e di
persone esperte negli auspicii e ricchedi tradizioni, poteva benissimo anche
prender parte viva alla discussione delle leggi, come dimostrerò più larga
mente nel capitolo III, § 2º, discorrendo della lex, e nel capitolo IV, § 1º,
parlando delle leges regiae. - 265 Il modo poi, in cui doveva essere proposta
la deliberazione, di mostra fino all'evidenza, come il magistrato fosse
consapevole del potere, che apparteneva al popolo, e come questo conoscesse
l'impor tanza del proprio uffizio. Da una parte eravi il re o magistrato, che,
dopo aver premessa la formola: quod bonum felis, etc., invitava il popolo
(rogabat) ad esprimere il proprio volere (iussus populi ) sulla proposta
fattagli colla formola: velitis, iubeatis, quirites; e dall'altra vi erano i
membri delle curie, che rispondevano affermando (uti rogas), o negando
(antiquo). Quanto al processo, che seguivasi nella votazione, già appare nelle
assemblee curiate quel sistema, che ebbe poi ad essere mantenuto negli altri
comizii. I singoli quiriti votano viritim nella propria curia, e in questa prevale
il voto della maggioranza, ma intanto la decisione definitiva dipende dal voto
complessivo delle curie; nel che abbiamo un indizio del vincolo potente, che
stringeva l'indi viduo alla corporazione, di cui faceva parte, in quanto che
non era il voto degli individui, che prevaleva, ma quello dei gruppi, a cui
appartenevano. Cid da una parte è un concetto trapiantato dalla stessa
organizzazione gentilizia, in cui non si può comprendere l'in dividuo, che
aggregandolo ad un gruppo; ma dall'altra dovette anche condurre alla disciplina
del voto. I membri delle curie non atomi vaganti, ma parti vive di un
organismo, senza del quale sa rebbero ridotti all'impotenza; disciplina questa,
che ebbe pure ad essere mantenuta più tardinei comizii centuriati, ed anche nei
tri buti, salvo che alla curia si sostituirono la centuria, e la tribů. Intanto
anche nella votazione appare il carattere religioso e per fino superstizioso
del romano primitivo, che da qualsiasi avvenimento suole trarre un pronostico,
in quanto che il voto della prima curia si ritiene come un augurio (omen );
donde la denominazione di curia principium, che viene ad essere imitata anche
negli altri comizii, e che è conservata nell'intitolazione stessa delle
delibera zioni comiziali. sono 219. Sopratutto poi importa determinare, quali
fossero le funzioni affidate ai comizii curiati; il che riesce assai difficile,
in quanto che anche il potere dell'assemblea popolare presentasi dapprima
piuttosto abbozzato, che non compiutamente formato. Secondo Dio nisio, il quale
talora si sforza a precisare i contornidelle istituzioni primitive di Roma,
sarebbe già l'assemblea delle curie, che, me diante una lex de bello indicendo,
avrebbe deciso della pace o della 266 guerra; sarebbe essa, che conferirebbe la
cittadinanza non ad indi vidui, ma ad intiere popolazioni o gentes, mediante la
cooptatio; sarebbe essa parimenti, che voterebbe le leggi, e nominerebbe il
magistrato supremo (1). Che se invece si tiene conto dei fatti, dei quali ci
pervenne notizia, ben poche sarebbero state le occasioni, in cui l'assemblea
delle curie avrebbe esercitato queste funzioni. Cid vuol dire, che anche il
potere dei comizii curiati non dovette dap prima essere determinato da una
costituzione scritta; ma deve ri guardarsi come un potere in via di formazione,
che poi si svolgerà, a seconda delle occasioni e degli avvenimenti,
mantenendosi perd sempre fedele al proprio concetto informatore. Esso tuttavia,
come si vedrà più sotto (2 ), già contiene in germe tutti quei poteri, che
l'assemblea del popolo acquisterà colle altre forme di comizii. È esso infatti,
che nomina il Re e si ha così il germe del potere elettorale; è esso che,
secondo la tradizione, sanziona le leges re giae, e si ha così l'inizio del suo
potere legislativo; è esso infine, che già avrebbe avuto l'occasione di
esercitare una specie di giu risdizione criminale, come lo dimostra la
provocatio ad populum, che si fa rimontare all'epoca dei primi re, e si sarebbe
dispiegata, secondo la tradizione, nel fatto dell'Orazio, uccisore della
propria sorella. 220. Sopratutto poi è notabile nei comizii coriati uno
speciale ca rattere, che, a parer mio, è la prova più evidente del passaggio
dall'organizzazione gentilizia alla comunanza civile e politica, e che non
parmi siasi tenuto in conto sufficiente dagli autori. Questo ca rattere
consiste nella doppia competenza della assemblea delle curie; la quale, sotto
un certo aspetto, è ancora sempre una riunione di ca rattere gentilizio, e
coll'intervento dei pontefici provvede alla con servazione delle genti e delle
famiglie, e del loro culto, e sotto un altro aspetto è una riunione di
carattere eminentemente politico. Quasi si direbbe, che il quirite, al pari di
Giano, protettore della città, deve avere lo sguardo rivolto in due opposte
direzioni: da una parte egli è ancora un rappresentante della gente e della
tribù, (1) DION., 2, 14, scrive in proposito: « populo vero haec tria
concessit,magistratus creare, leges sancire, et de bello decernere, quando rex
rogationem ad eum tulisset ». (2) Rimando la prova di ciò al capitolo seguente,
ove si considera la costituzione primitiva di Roma nelle sue principali
funzioni. 267 da cui discende, e come tale è ancora strettamente vincolato al
l'organizzazione gentilizia, e deve curare che il culto di essa non venga ad
interrompersi, e che il suo patrimonio non sia disperso; dall'altra invece è
membro del populus, e come tale deve obbe dire ai cenni del magistrato, e deve
aver presente sopratutto il pubblico interesse, in quanto che « salus populi
suprema lex esto ». Questa doppia qualità del quirite si appalesa nell'indole
diversa delle riunioni, di cui esso è chiamato a far parte. Accanto ai veri
comizii, convocati dal magistrato, per mezzo dei littori, e in cui si votano le
cose attinenti al pubblico interesse, sonvi i comitia ca lata, convocati dal
pontifex maximus, per mezzo dei suoi calatores, nei quali si compiono quegli
atti, che possono toccare in qualche modo l'organizzazione gentilizia. Nei
primi si votano le leggi; si deliberano le guerre e le paci; si nomina il
magistrato; si assolvono o condannano coloro, che appellarono al popolo. Nei
secondi invece, che rivestono di preferenza un carattere religioso, i quiriti
si ra dunano, in quanto hanno un culto, a cui debbono provvedere. È quindi in
essi, che compiesi l'inauguratio regis, ed anche quella dei flamines; come pure
è in essi, che si compiono quegli atti, che possono alterare in qualche modo
l'organizzazione gentilizia, e com promettere l'avvenire del culto. È perciò in
questa specie di co mizii, che deve essere approvata l'adrogatio di una persona
sui iuris, come quella che ha per effetto di fare entrare un capo di famiglia
sotto la podestà di un altro; il che significa sopprimere una famiglia e il suo
culto, per continuare invece un'altra famiglia e il culto della medesima. È in
essi parimenti, che ha luogo la detestatio sacrorum, che è la rinuncia al
proprio culto gentilizio, per causa di adrogatio o di transitio ad plebem; come
pure è ivi, che segue la cooptatio di una gens nell'ordine patrizio: cooptativ,
che si opera per l'intiero gruppo, e non per i singoli individui, che entrano a
costituirla. È in essi infine, che deve seguire quel testamen tum, che vien
detto appunto in calatis comitiis; il quale, secondo il concetto delle genti
patrizie, costituiva materia di diritto pubblico, come quello, che alterava le
norme relative alla successione genti lizia, e quelle riferentisi alla
trasmessione dei sacra. Cid è provato dal fatto, attestatoci da Cicerone, che
il ius pontificium, nell'intento d'impedire l'interruzione dei sacra, fini per
porre i medesimi a ca rico di coloro, che avevano gli utili dell'eredità; donde
l'espressione popolare, che occorre soventi nei comici latini, di haereditas
sine - 268 sacris, per significare un vantaggio conseguito senza i pesi
inerenti al medesimo (1). 221. Intanto questo speciale punto di vista, sotto
cui debbono, a parer mio, essere considerati i comitia calata, ci spiega quel
carattere singolare e pressochè contraddittorio del diritto primitivo di Roma,
il quale, mentre da una parte dà al quirite il più illi mitato arbitrio di
disporre delle proprie cose per testamento; dal l'altra vuole, che i
testamenti, le adrogationes e simili atti, che pur riguardano interessi privati,
siano compiuti in cospetto dell'intiero popolo, e li ritiene come relativi ad
argomenti di diritto pubblico. Gli autori vollero spiegare la cosa con dire,
che in Roma primitiva tutti questi atti costituivano altrettante leges
publicae, e che, come tali, dovevano essere fatti in cospetto e
coll'approvazione del po polo. Riterrei invece, che in questa istituzione dei
comitia calata si debba ravvisare, se mi si consenta l'espressione, il rudere
meglio conservato, che dall'organizzazione gentilizia sia stato trasportato
nella costituzione primitiva di Roma. Si è veduto a suo tempo, che il grande
intento dell'organizzazione gentilizia era quello di perpe tuare le famiglie e
il loro culto, e di impedire la dispersione dei patrimoni; donde la conseguenza,
che il testamentum e l'adrogatio dovevano farsi coll'approvazione
dell'assemblea della gente o della tribù (2 ). Or bene così continuò ancora ad
essere, finchè la città fu esclusivamente patrizia: quindi questi atti
continuarono ad essere fatti coll'approvazione delle curie, e di quei collegi
sacerdotali, che erano incaricati di serbare integri non solo i sacra publica,
ma ancora i sacra privata. Quindi conviene ammettere, che le curie non
prestassero soltanto la loro testimonianza a questi atti, ma fossero chiamate a
darvi la loro approvazione, dopo aver sentito l'avviso dei pontefici; il che
viene ad essere provato dalla formola, conserva taci da Aulo Gellio,
relativamente all'adrogatio (3 ). Una volta poi, (1) La teoria dei comitia
calata ci fu conservata sopratutto da Aulo Gellio, Noc. Att.. XV, 28 e 3, il
quale dice di averla ricavata da un'opera di Laelius Felix. Quanto alla
ripartizione dei sacra, in proporzione della sostanza ricevuta dagli eredi, è
attestata da CICERONE, De legibus, II, 19, SS 47, 49. (2) Vedi libro I, cap. IV,
$ 4, nº. 61 a 65. (3 ) Aulo Gellio, Noc. Att., V, 19. Ivi si dice che a
adrogatio per rogationem populi fit », ed è riportata la formola, che è quella
della vera e propria legge, in quanto che comincia colle parole velitis,
iubeatis, quirites » e termina coll'espres. sione « Haec ita, uti dixi, ita
vos, quirites, rogo ». 269 che una istituzione di questa natura sia penetrata
nella primitiva costituzione romana, noi oramai conosciamo abbastanza il
tempera mento del popolo romano per poter affermare, che esso non l'abban
donerà così presto. Si comprende pertanto, che quando si introdussero i comizii
centuriati, anche questi, secondo la testimonianza di Gellio, abbiano avuti i
proprii comizii calati, salvo che nei medesimiil po polo, radunato due volte
all'anno, più non dovette approvare il te stamento, ma solo prestare la propria
testimonianza. Ciò è dimostrato dal fatto, che il testamento in calatis
comitiis potè poi essere surro gato da quello per aes et libram, in cui i
quiriti sono chiamati non per approvare, ma solo per testimoniare (testimonium
mihi perhi bitote). Intanto però, anche quando l'adrogatio e il testamentum
furono atti di carattere intieramente privato, rimane però sempre la traccia
dell'antico stato di cose nel concetto, ricordatoci da Papiniano, secondo cui
la testamenti factio pubblici iuris est (1). A questo riguardo poi, è ancora
degno di nota, che quando l'as semblea delle curie fini per perdere ogni
importanza politica e mi litare, e si ridusse ad essere una riunione di trenta
littori, presie duta dai pontefici, serbò però ancora sempre e forse esagero
perfino questa competenza, per ciò che si riferisce agli atti, che riguardano
l'organizzazione gentilizia, e sopratutto, quanto all'adrogatio. Questa fu
praticata ancora, davanti alle curie, dagli imperatori Augusto e Claudio, i
quali, non avendo dimenticata la loro antica origine dalle genti patrizie,
seguirono le forme tradizionali nella arrogazione di Tiberio e di Nerone. Cosi
le primitive istituzioni vengono anche esse perdendosi a poco a poco in Roma,ma
ne rimane ancora sempre un'eco lontana. Resterebbe qui ad esaminarsi la
questione fondamentale se la plebe sia stata ammessa a far parte della
assemblea delle curie; ma (1) Papin., L. 4, Dig. (28, 1). La conclusione
sarebbe questa, che il carattere di lex del testamento primitivo è una reliquia
dell'antica organizzazione gentilizia. Tale carattere poi in parte avrebbe
cominciato a dileguarsi, allorchè accanto ai comizië curiati calati, si
introdussero anche i comiziï centuriati calati, la cui esistenza ci.è attestata
da Aulo Gellio, XV, 27, 2, e che probabilmente dovettero essere quelli, i
quali, secondo Gaio, Comm., II, 101, si radunavano due volte l'anno,acciò in
essi po tessero farsi i testamenti. Il fatto stesso della loro riunione
periodica dimostra, che molti testamenti si potevano presentare ad un tempo, e
che perciò in essi il popolo doveva limitarsi a prestare la propria
testimonianza. Fu questo il motivo, per cui il testamento in calatis comitiis
potè poi essere sostituito dal testamento per aes et libram, ove i quiriti si
riducono ad essere dei classici testes. Gaio, Comm., II, 103. 270 credo
opportuno rimandarne l'esame ad un capitolo speciale, in cui cercherò di
determinare la posizione dei clienti e della plebe, cosi sotto l'aspetto del
diritto pubblico, che sotto quello del diritto pri vato; premettendo però fin
d'ora, che seguo l'opinione, secondo cui la plebe non potè, durante il periodo
regio e nei primisecoli della Repubblica, essere ammessa all'assemblea delle
curie (1 ). $ 7. Sguardo sintetico allo svolgimento storico dei comizi in Roma.
222. Le cose premesse sarebbero sufficienti per formarsi un con cetto del
carattere speciale della primitiva assemblea curiata: ma intanto per scoprire
certe relazioni, che difficilmente potrebbero es sere afferrate, quando non
fossero sorprese alle origini, ed anche per rendere intelligibili gli
svolgimenti, che verranno dopo, e dimo strarne la continuità, ritengo
opportuno, a costo anche di precor rere gli avvenimenti, di dare uno sguardo
sintetico allo svolgimento che ebbero i comizii in Roma. Roma antica, simile in
cið alla moderna Inghilterra, ci presenta bene spesso l'esempio di congegni
della costituzione politica ed am ministrativa, la cui creazione rimonta ad
epoche compiutamente di verse, ma che intanto funzionano contemporaneamente.
Ciò è vero sopratutto per quello, che si riferisce ai comizii. Roma patrizia, e
forse anche Roma, durante tutto il periodo regio, non conosce altra assemblea
del popolo, che quella delle curie. Essa è un'assemblea, di carattere religioso
e sacerdotale, politico e militare ad un tempo: è la riunione del primo populus
romanus quiritium, di quello cioè, che era ristretto al populus, che usciva
esclusivamente dalle genti patrizie. In base alla costituzione Serviana, che
ammette la plebe a far parte delle classi e centurie, sulla base del censo,
intro ducesi un' altra assemblea del populus romanus quiritium, già inteso in
senso più largo, che è la centuriata. Anch'essa è mo dellata sulla prima, e
secondo Gellio, imita perfino i comizii calati, come pure è anche preceduta
dagli auspicii;ma intanto, accogliendo già un elemento, che non partecipava al
culto gentilizio, che era quello della plebe, perde ogni carattere religioso e
sacerdotale, e (1) La questione qui accennata sarà presa in esame in questo
stesso libro, cap. V. 271 assume un carattere essenzialmente militare, e poscia
anche poli tico. Da questo momento l'assemblea per curie più non può rap
presentare l'intiero populus, perchè una parte di questo, cioè la plebe, non
entra a farne parte. L'assemblea curiata quindi diventa, dirimpetto alla
centuriata, un' assemblea di patres, perchè com prende coloro, che discendono
sempre dalle antiche genti patrizie. La vera rappresentanza dell'intiero
populus (comitiatus maximus) viene quindi ad essere l'assemblea per centurie;
perchè essa soltanto comprende tutto il popolo, organizzato sulla base del
censo. Siccome però i patres o patricii, cioè i discendenti delle antiche genti
pa trizie, continuano ancora sempre a formare un nucleo separato del populus,
cosi essi sono ancora chiamati a dare alle deliberazioni dei comizii centuriati
la patrum auctoritas, la quale viene, come sopra si è veduto, a distinguersi
dalla senatus auctoritas. Così pure l'antico populus, composto appunto dai
patres, continua ancora sempre a con ferire l'imperium colla lex curiata de
imperio, sebbene l'una e l'altra funzione tendano naturalmente a perdere della
loro im portanza, e l'assemblea curiata si limiti sempre più a funzioni di
carattere puramente gentilizio e sacerdotale (1). 223. Fin qui lo svolgimento
della costituzione primitiva procede ancora regolarmente: ma la cosa si fa più
malagevole, quando, fra i congegni della costituzione politica di Roma, compare
un nuovo elemento, che è quello delle assemblee proprie della plebe (concilia
plebis). La plebs forma già parte del populus e partecipa alla civitas; ma la
sua civitas è ancora minuto iure, in quanto che essa non ha ancora nè il ius
connubii col patriziato, nè il ius honorum. È quindi naturale in essa
l'aspirazione al pareggiamento, e sorge una opposizione di interessi fra il
patriziato e la plebe. Quest'ultima, che, uguale sotto un aspetto, aspira a
diventarlo anche sotto gli altri, viene naturalmente a costituire sotto un
certo riguardo una fazione nello Stato, poichè i suoi interessi si
contrappongono a quelli del patriziato, il quale continua ad essere il vero
reggitore dello Stato, essendo il solo ammesso alle magistrature e agli onori.
La plebe però ha già un proprio magistrato, sotto cui si organizza, che è il
tribuno della plebe, il quale, in base alla costituzione, può (1) È da vedersi,
quanto all'auctoritas patrum, questo stesso capitolo, § 3º, n° 198, pag. 240 e
seg. colle note relative. 272 convocarla per prendere deliberazioni nel proprio
interesse. Sorge cosi spontaneamente l'istituto dei concilia plebis, i quali
dapprima hanno più un'esistenza di fatto, che non di diritto: ma che intanto,
fatti forti dal numero e dalla intraprendenza dei tribuni, tendono naturalmente
a prendere dei provvedimenti, che mirano a prepa rare l'uguaglianza giuridica e
politica fra la plebe e il patriziato. Essi perciò mettono in accusa patrizii avversi
alla plebe e gli stessi consoli, allorchè escono di ufficio. Proibirli è
impossibile, perchè è principio riconosciuto dalle XII Tavole, che ogni
sodalizio, che abbia un capo (magister ), possa dettarsi una propria legge, e
perchè in ogni caso sarebbe impossibile vietare le riunioni di un elemento, che
ha per sè il numero e la forza, e che, ricorrendo ad una secessio, potrebbe
mettere a repentaglio l'avvenire della città (1). L'unico partito pertanto, che
rimanga al patriziato ed al senato, che lo rap presenta, è quello di
riconoscere queste riunioni e di farle entrare, per quanto sia possibile, nei
quadri legali della costituzione politica di Roma, trasformando a poco a poco i
concilia plebis in comitia tributa: in comizii, cioè, che comprendano eziandio
tutto il popolo, ma non più in base al censo, come l'assemblea delle centurie,
ma in base alle tribù locali, in cui è raccolta tutta la cittadinanza ro mana.
È questa la trasformazione, che incomincia col tribuno Pu blilio Volerone, il
quale, nel 283 U. C., dopo lunghe lotte, ottiene che la plebe possa nominarsi i
suoi tribuni nei proprii comizii; ma con ciò questi non possono ancora prendere
che provvedimenti riguar danti la sola plebe, e che possono soltanto essere
obbligatorii per essa. Quindi incomincia da parte di questa uno sforzo inteso a
pareggiare i comizi tributi agli altri comizii, e a fare si che i plebisciti
obbli ghino anche il patriziato, il che si opera per mezzo delle leggi Va leria
-Orazia, Publilia e Ortensia; le quali, sebbene, per il poco che a noi ne
pervenne, mirino tutte allo scopo di rendere obbligatorii i plebisciti per
tutto il popolo, segnano però, come si vedrà più sotto, pag. 728, (1) La
proibizione dei concilia plebis sarebbe stata contraria a quelle disposizioni
della legge decemvirale, secondo cui « Sodalibus potestas esto, pacionem, quam
volent, sibi ferre, dum ne quid ex publica lege corrumpant. V. Voigt, die
Tafeln, I, che attribuisce tal legge alla Tavola VIII, n. 12. Qualcosa di
analogo ci è pure accennato da Livio, 39, 15: « ubicumque multitudo esset, ibi
et legitimum rectorem multitudinis, censebant maiores debere esse »; ed è
questo forse il motivo, per cui i concilia plebis cominciano a diventare
potenti, quando la plebs ha trovato un proprio rector o magister nel tribunus
plebis. - 273 discorrendo del concetto romano di lex, i varii stadii, per cui
passò la risoluzione del gravissimo problema (1). 224. Giungesi cosi ad un
periodo della costituzione politica di Roma, in cui nei quadri di essa trovansi
tre specie di comizii. I primi e i più antichi sono i comizii curiati,ma essi
vengono ad essere sempre più ridotti a funzioni puramente gentilizie e
sacerdotali, e anzichè essere in effetto ancora le riunioni delle curie, si
riducono ad essere la riunione dei trenta littori, che le rappresentano, e
diven tano così una sopravvivenza dell'antico ordine di cose. Accanto ad essi
sonvi i comizii centuriati, che sono sempre la vera assemblea del popolo
romano, e continuano a conservare in qualche parte il pri mitivo carattere
militare: ma anch'essi si fanno più democratici, come lo dimostrano le riforme,
che sappiamo essere state introdotte, senza saperne precisare il come ed il
quando, e debbono dividere in parte le proprie funzioni colla nuova assemblea
tributa, più fa cile a convocarsi e più intraprendente nella propria
iniziativa. Certo si richiedeva il genio pratico dei Romani per far procedere
di pari passo assemblee, che rappresentavano un principio diverso, cioè la
nascita, il censo, ed il numero. Dapprima ciascuna di queste istituzioni potè
serbare intatto il proprio carattere primitivo; ma poscia la fusione sempre
maggiore dei due ordini condusse al ri sultato, che poterono esservi plebei di
grandi famiglie, che furono accolti nelle curie, e che vi ottennero anche la
dignità sacerdotale di curio maximus; al modo stesso, che i pochi discendenti
delle an tiche genti patrizie poterono anche intervenire ai comizi tributi, i
quali ricevettero cosi anche la consacrazione religiosa, e poterono essere
presieduti da magistrati, che un tempo erano esclusivamente patrizii. Quando le
cose pervennero a questo punto, il vero populus trovasi raccolto nei comizii
centuriati, e nei comizii tributi. Quelli sono organizzati in base al censo, e
questi in base alle tribù lo cali, a cui i cittadini trovansi ascritti; quelli
serbano ancora un carattere specialmente militare e radunansi al campo Marzio,
fuori delle mura Serviane, e questi invece hanno un carattere civile e (1)
Rimetto la discussione gravissima relativa a queste tre leggi al capitolo se
guente § 2º, n ° 232 e seg. dove si discorre del concetto romano di lex. Quanto
alla proposta di Publilio Volerone e alla portata della medesima è da vedersi
il Bonghi, Storia di Roma, pag. 439 a 451, come pure a pag. 593, ove parla
dell'elezione dei tribuni nei comizii tributi. G. CARLE, Le origini del diritto
di Roma. 18 274 radunansi nel fôro, cosicchè il vero movimento della
costituzione politica di Roma ondeggia fra l'una e l'altra assemblea. Tuttavia,
a ricordare l'antico dualismo, sopravvivono ancora sempre i comizii curiati
ridotti ad essere la riunione di trenta littori, presieduti dal pontefice, e
circoscritti a funzioni di carattere essenzialmente reli gioso, e i concilia
plebis, che ricordano ancora quel tempo, in cui la plebe costituiva un dualismo
col patriziato, e nei quali continuano a nominarsi le magistrature
esclusivamente plebee (1). Intanto è ancora degno di nota, che la
trasformazione, che si opera nei comisii tri buti, accade anche nei tribuni
della plebe, i quali, sebbene debbano sempre essere trattidalla plebe,
diventano però a poco a poco magi strati urbanidel popolo romano; comepure
accade nei plebisciti, i quali a poco a poco vengono ad essere pareggiati alle
leggi propriamente dette, il che sarà meglio dimostrato nel capitolo seguente.
Questo è il solito processo, seguito dai Romani, nello svolgimento delle
proprie istituzioni, ed è la logica che lo governa, che per mette di poterlo
ricostruire, malgrado le lacune, che possono esservi nel racconto storico, che
a noi pervenne. Questa logica è, per così esprimersi, intensiva ed estensiva ad
un tempo, e quindi si può es sere certi, che se un concetto entri nella
compagine romana non scomparirà, se prima non siasi ricavato da esso in
profondità ed estensione tutto ciò, che contenga di vigoroso e di vitale.
Studiata cosi la costituzione primitiva di Roma negli organi, che entrano a
costituirla, importa ora di considerarla nell'esercizio delle sue principali
funzioni. (1) È questo, a parer mio, il solo modo per risolvere la questione
così contro versa relativa alle analogie ed alle differenze, che possono
intercedere fra i comitia tributa ed i concilia plebis. È noto in proposito,
come il Niebhur non ammettesse che un'unica assemblea tributa (Histoire romaine,
III, 283), la quale, esclusivamente plebea dapprima (concilium plebis), avrebbe
più tardi compreso anche il patriziato, e sarebbesi così cambiata in comitium
tributum. Il Mommsen invece (Römische For schungen, Berlin, 1864, I, 151 a 155)
sostenne, dai decemviri in poi, l'esistenza di due assemblee tribute: l’una
patrizio-plebea (comitia tributa ); l'altra esclusivamente plebea (concilium
plebis). Ritengo che quest'ultima opinione possa essere accolta, ma limitando
le funzioni dei concilia plebis a cose di interesse esclusivamente plebeo,
quali erano la nomina dei tribuni e degli edili plebei, mentre il vero potere
legisla tivo, elettorale e giudiziario appartiene ai comitia tributa, i quali
soli possono con siderarsi come un vero organo della costituzione romana. Cfr.
BOURGEAUD, Le plébi scite dans l'antiquité, Paris, 1887, pag. 57 a 76; Karlowa,
Röm. R. G., pag. 118; MORLot, Précis des instit. polit. de Rome. Paris. La
primitiva costituzione di Roma nelle sue principali funzioni. $ 1. - Carattere
generale della medesima. e 225. La costituzione primitiva di Roma, finchè si
mantenne esclusivamente patrizia, si presenta con un carattere di unità e di
coerenza, che indarno si cercherebbe più tardi nelle istituzioni po litiche di
Roma. Vero è che la plebe, entrando a far parte della comunanza politica, recò
nella medesima il movimento e la vita, rese possibile per Roma un avvenire, che
non avrebbe mai conse guito la città esclusivamente patrizia, la quale da sola
tendeva più a chiudersi in se stessa, che ad estendersi; ma è vero eziandio,
che colla plebe penetrò il dualismo in ogni aspetto della costituzione
primitiva di Roma. Dirimpetto ai comizii disciplinati del popolo rac colto
nelle curie, si svolsero i concilii talvolta tumultuosi della plebe; ai
magistrati del popolo si contrapposero quelli della plebe; ed alle leggi votate
nella solennità e nel silenzio dalle curie si so vrapposero i plebisciti. Fu in
tal guisa, che la costituzione primitiva di Roma venne in certo modo ad essere
forzata a spingersi oltre il concetto ispiratore della medesima, e fini per
assumere un ca rattere del tutto peculiare, in quanto che dovette stringere insieme
due popoli, che politicamente erano associati, ma che non erano intimamente
uniti fra di loro, di cui uno pretendeva di avere per sè la priorità ed il
diritto, mentre l'altro aveva per sè il numero e la forza. Nè conseguita che,
per comprendere lo spirito della primitiva costituzione di Roma, conviene in
certo modo isolarla dagli elementi, che sopravvennero coll' ammessione della
plebe alla cittadinanza, e quando ciò si faccia non si può a meno di rima nere
ammirati di fronte all'unità ed alla coerenza, che presenta la costituzione
esclusivamente patrizia. Essa è un vero organismo, che componesi di varie
parti, delle quali ciascunaè chiamata ad adempiere la propria funzione: ma che
tutte intanto si suppongono e si completano a vicenda. La potestas in largo
senso si ritiene bensi appartenere al popolo, ma questo non potrebbe
esercitarla, se 276 non fosse posto in azione dall'imperium del magistrato; e
intanto fra di loro si interpone l'auctoritas del senato, il quale da una parte
modera col suo consiglio il regis imperium, e dall'altra da la consistenza e
l'appoggio della propria autorità ai iussa populi. 226. Questa coerenza poi
appare anche più evidente, allorchè i congegni della costituzione siano
considerati nel loro movimento; poichè mentre ciascun aspetto del pubblico
potere non ha altra norma e altro confine, che il proprio concetto ispiratore,
niuno di essi però può compromettere l'interesse comune, senza che vi
concorrano tutti gli altri. Questo carattere della costituzione politica di
Roma ha fatto dire a Polibio, che essa appariva mo narchica, aristocratica e
democratica ad un tempo, secondo che altri la considerava rimpetto a questo o a
quell'aspetto del pubblico potere (1); ma se altri poi la consideri in
movimento ed in azione, essa si presenta con tutti questi caratteri ad un tempo.
L'imperium regis, la senatus auctoritas, la populi potestas sono altrettante
concezioni logiche, destinate col tempo a ricevere tutto lo sviluppo, di cui
possono essere capaci; ma intanto son disposte per modo, che si contengono e si
limitano a vicenda, non già perchè esista fra di essi una ripartizione o
circoscrizione di poteri, ma perchè nessuno di questi elementi puo
compromettere la pubblica salute senza la cooperazione di tutti gli altri.
Onnipotente ciascuno coll'appoggio degli altri, viene ad essere impotente,
quando trovi opposizione o contrasto in alcuno fra essi; donde l'importanza,
che ebbe nella costituzione romana l'istituto dell'intercessio, la quale viene
atteg giandosi in guise molteplici e diverse, in quanto che tale intercessio, o
può esercitarsi a nome della religione, o frapponendo la par ma iorve potestas,
o contrapponendo anche quelli, che esercitano la medesima magistratura (2 ).
Questo è, a parer mio, il carattere fon (1) Polibio, Histor., lib. VI. (2) È
mirabile il partito, che Roma seppe trarre dal concetto dell'intercessio nello
svolgimento storico della sua costituzione, come appare dalla magistrale
trattazione dell'argomento nel Mommsen, Le droit public romain, pag. 230 a 329.
Non potrei tuttavia accettare la sua affermazione recisa, che l'intercessio non
esistesse nel periodo regio. Certo essa non ebbe occasione di svolgersi, perchè
i tre elementi od organi della costituzione erano potentemente unificati; ma
intanto la cost ituzione primitiva inchiudeva già allo stato latente il
germe di tutta la teoria dell'intercessio, in quanto che in essa niun
provvedimento, che possa compromettere il pubblico interesse, pud damentale della costituzione primitiva di
Roma, per cui essa ora apparisce conservatrice fino allo scrupolo, ed ora
invece diventa operosa ed intraprendente fino all'audacia, secondo che essa
abbia o non l'appoggio dell'opinione generale. Intanto quando trattasi della
res publica, ossia di cosa, che possa interessare l'intiera comunanza, tutti
questi elementi sono chia mati ad arrecare il proprio contributo. È infatti
almagistrato (rex, interrex, tribunus celerum, praefectus urbis) che si
appartiene l'agere, quando trattasi di convocare il popolo o il senato; il ro
gare, quando importa di ottenere l'approvazione di qualche proposta;
l'imperare, allorchè nei pericoli di una guerra il suo imperium si spinge fino
alla maggiore estensione, di cui possa essere capace. E invece al senato, che
si appartiene il consulere, quando trattasi di dare il proprio avviso al
magistrato, o di richiamare l'attenzione di lui su qualche imminente pericolo,
« ne res publica detrimenti capiat »; e l'auctor fieri, se è questione invece
di appoggiare le de liberazioni del popolo. È infine al popolo, che spetta il
iubere e lo statuere, quando trattasi di una lex, sotto la qual forma si
manifesta di regola la volontà collettiva del quando trattasi della
elezione dei magistrati. Intanto però, siccome queste gradazioni dell'azione
collettiva debbono tutte concorrere in sieme per costituire un atto compiuto,
cosi niun elemento pud da solo prendere un provvedimento, che possa
compromettere l'interesse comune (1 ). Ciò sopratutto appare nel compimento di
quegli atti, che, per propria natura, interessano l'intiera comunanza, quali
sarebbero: la formazione di una legge, l'elezione del magistrato, e
l'amministra zione della giustizia; dai quali poi discendono le tre
manifestazioni essere preso senza il concorso di tutti. L'intercessio nel
periodo repubblicano non fu che uno svolgimento di questo concetto, e toccò il
suo massimo sviluppo per opera dei tribuni, stante il carattere negativo del
potere spettante aimedesimi. È poi notabile, come essa si applichi al decretum,
alla rogatio, ed al senatus consultum, il quale, se colpito dall'intercessio,
non può più essere posto in esecuzione: ma tuttavia deve essere perscriptum,
perchè è sempre una espressione dell'auctoritas senatus, col quale vocabolo
viene appunto ad essere indicato. Cfr. MOMMSEN, op. cit., (1) Ho già insistito
su questo concetto, che può essere considerato comela chiave di volta della
primitiva costituzione di Roma, in una prolusione al corso di Storia del
diritto romanu col titolo: L'evoluzione storica del diritto pubblico e privato di
Roma, Torino, 1886, pag. 13. pag. 317. 278 del potere sovrano nella città
antica, che sono il potere legislativo, il potere elettorale, ed il potere
giudiziario. È quindi sopratutto a proposito di questi atti, che vuolsi cercare
in qual modo entri in movimento ed in azione la primitiva costituzione di Roma,
dando al tempo stesso un popolo, o ilo sguardo allo svolgimento storico, che
dovrà poi ricevere ciascuno di questi poteri. $ 2. Il concetto romano di lex
nei suoi rapporti colla patrum auctoritas e col plebiscitum. 228. Nel
considerare il concetto primitivo della lex in Roma si riman magistratum
creare,e anzitutto colpiti dalla larghissima significazione, colla quale si
presenta questo vocabolo. Esso significa dapprima qualsiasi ac cordo di più
individui in una stessa volontà, e viene così, fin dagli esordii, a
distinguersi in lex privata, che significa una convenzione od una norma, che
altri si impone relativamente ad interessi privati (lex contractus, lex
mancipii, lex testamenti), ed in les publica, che significa la volontà
collettiva e comune, che si sovrappone alla volontà dei singoli individui.
Quando poi il concetto di lex privata viene ad essere assorbito da quello di
convenzione o di contratto, quello di lex publica continua ancora ad avere una
estesissima si gnificazione; poichè esso comprende in certo modo qualsiasi
delibera zione solenne del popolo. Parlasi infatti di una lex belli indicendi,
foederis ineundi, coloniae deducendae, agri adsignandi e simili; e fino a un
certo punto la nomina stessa del magistrato, o almeno il conferimento
dell'imperium, spettante al medesimo, viene ad essere argomento di una legge.
Gli è solo più tardi, che il vocabolo di legge viene a significare un generale
iussum populi, che si rife risce alla generalità dei cittadini, e si distingue
così da qualsiasi de liberazione, relativa ad una persona o ad un fatto
particolare (1). Ciò (1) Insomma il concetto dominante è sempre quello, che la
lex è il risultato di un accordo. Quindi la lex publica, essendo il risultato
dell'accordo di tutti gli organi dello Stato, viene ad essere una communis
reipublicae sponsio, e deve da tutti essere rispettata; donde la conseguenza,
che il ius publicum privatorum pactis mutari non potest. La lex privata invece
è l'accordo di due o più individui in tema di loro interessi privati: non è
quindi la legge pubblica, che deve occuparsene, secondo il principio della
stessa legge decemvirale, privilegia ne inroganto: donde conseguita, che la
legge cambiasi a poco a poco in un generale iussum. È in questa guisa, che vuol
dire, che anche la nozione di lex subisce in Roma una lunga evoluzione: ma
intanto il concetto, che la pervade in ogni tempo, è quello di un accordo di
più volontà in un medesimo intento. Tale significazione sembra pure essere
indicata dall'etimologia del vocabolo di lex a legendo od a colligendo, la
quale perciò non indica tanto la forma scritta, assunta dalla legge, come
vorrebbe il Bréal, quanto piuttosto il collegarsi delle volontà in un medesimo
intento (1 ). 229. Un altro carattere della lex, secondo il primitivo concetto
romano, si è quello di un'aureola religiosa, che la circonda, come lo
dimostrano le cerimonie solenni, da cui son precedute le deliberazioni
comiziali, e la reverenza e il culto, di cui la legge viene ad essere l'oggetto
in Roma primitiva, dopo che essa fu solennemente votata dal popolo. Di qui
alcuni autori ebbero a ricavare la conseguenza, che la forza obbligatoria della
legge, anche per Roma, non deri vasse tanto dal suffragio del popolo, quanto piuttosto
da questo carat tere religioso, da cui essa appare circondata. Se con ciò si
vuol dire, che la legge solennemente votata dal popolo, dopo aver assunto gli
auspicii, doveva in certo modo considerarsi come una interpreta zione della
stessa volontà divina, questo concetto pud essere facil mente ammesso, essendo
il medesimo una conseguenza di ciò, che il ius, come si è dimostrato a suo
tempo, aveva nei suoi primordii un carattere religioso, e impotente a
sostenersi da solo cercava di mettersi sotto la protezione del fas. Ma se con
ciò si intende in la legge e il contratto, uniti nell'origine, più tardi si
vennero separando, e quasi si contrapposero fra di loro, lasciando perd sempre
una traccia nel concetto, che « il contratto costituisce legge per i contraenti
». (1) L'etimologia di lex a legendo nel senso di « leggere, suole appoggiarsi
al testo di Varrone, De ling. lat., VI, 66: leges, quae lectae et ad populum
latae, quas ob servet; ma egli è evidente, che qui Varrone, non sempre felice
nelle sue etimologie, non ha punto l'intenzione di proporne una. Se quindi è
vero, come del resto insegna lo stesso BRÉAL, Dict. étym. latin, vº lego, che
il vocabolo di legere ebbe anche la antica significazione di raccogliere, di
scegliere, di riunire, parmi sia molto più acconcio di dare questa etimologia
al vocabolo di lex. Così si potrà anche compren dere la lex privata, la quale
certo non pud essere derivata da ciò, che i contratti fossero scritti; ma da
cid, che le volontà si accordavano e si riunivano. Cfr. BRÉAL et BAILLY, Dict.
étym., vº lex. Un passo, in cui il vocabolo « legere » prende questa an tica e
larga significazione, è il seguente di Virgilio: Iura, magistratusque legunt,
sanctumque senatum. (Aen., I, v. 431). - 280 vece, che la sua efficacia
obbligatoria provenga direttamente dalla volontà divina, se questo può forse
ancora ammettersi per il vóuos de' Greci, più non può ritenersi vero per la lex
romana (1). Questa non potrà essere votata senza che prima si assumano gli
auspicii; ma intanto, fin dal periodo esclusivamente patrizio, essa è già
l'espres sione della volontà collettiva del popolo, come lo dimostra il fatto,
che assume la forma di una vera e propria stipulazione fra il ma gistrato che
propone (rogat), e il popolo che vota (iubet atque con stituit); come pure il
concorso nella formazione di essa di tutti gli organi della costituzione
politica di Roma, per cui essa, fin dagli esordii della città, deve essere
considerata come una « communis rei publicae sponsio ». Essa sarà ancora
riguardata come una volontà divina; ma il popolo già si attribuisce facoltà
d'interpretare questa volontà, ogni qualvolta trattisi, non di cosa relativa al
culto, ma di provvedimenti, che riguardano l'interesse generale della comu
nanza. Anche la definizione dei Giureconsulti classici: « lex est, quod
populus, senatorio magistratu rogante, iubet atque con stituit », può già
essere applicata alla legge, durante il periodo regio; salvo che in questa
definizione più non compare l'elemento della patrum auctoritas, che nella città
patrizia era ancor ritenuto indispensabile, e che era poi stato tolto di mezzo
dalla legge Ortensia. Vero è, che più tardi il patriziato cercò di dare
sopratutto prevalenza all'elemento religioso, che accompagnava la legge; ma ciò
accade unicamente, allorchè l'assemblea patrizia delle curie perdette ogni
importanza politica; poichè in allora la religione e gli auspicii diven tano
pressochè il solo titolo di superiorità del patriziato sopra la plebe, e fu
naturale che si cercasse di accrescerne la importanza. 230. Intanto questo
carattere, eminentemente contrattuale della legge, che corrisponde all'origine
federale della città, ed anche la necessità, secondo il concetto primitivo
delle genti patrizie, che, a formare la legge, dovessero concorrere tutti gli
organi dello Stato, servono a spiegare naturalmente certe singolarità del
diritto primitivo (1) V. in senso contrario il FUSTEL DE COULANGES, La cité
antique, liv. III, chap. XI, pag. 221 e segg., e fra i recentiilBourgeaud,
Leplébiscite dans l'antiquité, Paris, 1887, pag. 91 e segg. Quest'ultimo nega
il carattere contrattuale alla legge, anche per la considerazione, che essa non
potrebbe obbligare quelli, che non vi hanno consentito; ma egli è evidente, che
l'accordo in una pubblica votazione non può aversi, che dando prevalenza al
maggior numero. 281 di Roma, che ebbero a verificarsi, allorchè la plebe entrò
a far parte della comunanza politica. Allora infatti venne ad essere necessità,
che il potere legislativo si portasse ai comizii centuriati, in quanto che
questi soltanto erano l'assemblea plenaria del populus romanus (comitiatus
maximus). Siccome però, accanto ai comizii centuriati, si manteneva pur sempre
l'assemblea curiata dei patres o dei patricii: così, per ubbidire al principio
che tutti gli organi politici dello Stato dovevano concorrere alla formazione
della legge, fu necessario che vi contribuisse eziandio l'assemblea dei patres;
donde la conseguenza, che la legge centuriata dovette dapprima essere proposta
dal magistrato, votata dal popolo, e poscia ancora approvata non solo dal
senato, ma anche dall'assemblea delle curie. Di qui dovette provenire la
distinzione della patrum o patriciorum auctoritas dalla senatus auctoritas,
ancorchè le due approvazioni si riducessero in sostanza ad una medesima cosa,
perchè in questo periodo il senato può riguardarsi sopratutto come l'organo del
patriziato; il che spiega appunto la confusione, che gli storici vengono
facendo fra l'una e l'altra auctoritas, in un'epoca, in cui erano già scomparse
e l'una e l'altra (1). 231. Se non che il mantenersi fedeli a questo principio
diventò assai più difficile, allorchè alle altre fonti legislative venne ad ag
giungersi eziandio il plebiscitum, che costituiva in certo modo una lex
inauspicata. Questo dapprima non può obbligare tutto il popolo, perchè è
l'opera soltanto di una parte di esso; e quindi, al pari dei concilia plebis,
in cui viene ad essere votato, ha più un'esistenza di fatto, che non di
diritto. Intanto però la plebe ha per sè il nu mero e la forza, e valendosi di
essi cerca talora di forzare la mano al senato. In questa condizione di cose
viene ad essere nell'interesse stesso del patriziato di fare rientrare
nell'ordine legale tanto i concilia plebis, trasformandoli in comitia tributa,
allorchè trattisi di provvedimenti, che possano interessare tutto il populus,
quanto eziandio di riconoscere l'autorità dei plebisciti, con che essi subi
scano le condizioni richieste per obbligare tutto il popolo. È in questa
occasione, che nella storia politica di Roma compa riscono successivamente tre
leggi ad epoca diversa, il cui contenuto, conservatoci dagli scrittori, sembra
essere identico (ut plebiscita (1) V. sopra capitolo II, § 3, n ° 198, pag. 240
e segg. e le note relative. 282 omnem populum tenerent); ma che intanto
sembrano indicare tre successivi stadii di una importantissima trasformazione.
La difficoltà di conciliarle, che formò oggetto di lunghe discussioni e che
anche oggi suole essere considerata come una delle più gravi questioni, che
presenti la storia politica di Roma (1), pud, a parer mio, essere supe rata,
quando abbiasi presente il concetto della primitiva costituzione di Roma,
secondo cui qualsiasi vera legge suppone il concorso di tutti gli organi
politici dello Stato. 232. Occorre anzitutto la legge Valeria Orazia, dell'anno
304 di Roma; la quale è la prima a dichiarare, che i plebisciti obblighino
tutto il popolo (ut quod tributim plebs iussisset omnem populum te neret) (2 );
ma ancorchè la legge nol dica, questo è certo che, secondo il concetto
informatore della costituzione politica di Roma, ciò poteva solo accadere,
allorchè i provvedimenti, che erano di iniziativa della plebe, avessero subite
tutte le prove, a cui erano sottoposte le stesse (1) Così si esprime il Soltau,
die Gültigkeit der Plebiscite, Berlin, 1888, pag. 107. La bibliografia sulla
questione pud vedersi nel BOURGEAUD, Le plébiscite dans l'anti quité, Paris,
1887, pag. 121, il quale sosterrebbe, che il plebiscito sia stato in ogni tempo
una deliberazione presa dalla sola plebe, esclusi i patrizii. Non potrei divi
dere tale opinione, poichè vi fu un tempo, in cui la differenza fra plebiscito
e legge si ridusse unicamente alla persona diversa, che ne prendeva
l'iniziativa, secondo che essa fosse un tribuno, od un altro magistrato. Vero è
che il vocabolo di plebs signi fica il populus, esclusi i senatori ed i
patrizii;ma il motivo, per cui i patrizii non si tenevano legati dai plebisciti
non consisteva già in ciò, che essi non potessero inter venire ai comizii
tributi, essendo anch'essi iscritti alle tribù, ma in ciò, che essi soste
nevano « plebiscitis se non teneri, quia sine auctoritate eorum facta essent »,Gaio,
Comm. I, 3. Tolta poi la necessità della patrum vel patriciorum auctoritas, i
plebisciti divennero obbligatorii per tutto il popolo, e anche i patrizii
poterono certo intervenire ai comizii tributi. Difatti dopo la legge Ortensia
le due espressioni di leo e di plebi scitum diventano fra di loro equipollenti,
e occorrono perfino le espressioni populum plebemve iussisse, come nella lex
tabulae Bantinae (Bruns, Fontes, pag. 51). (2) Secondo il Mommsen, è da questa
legge, che parte l'istituzione dei comizii curiati, e quindi egli riterrebbe,
che nei termini conservatici da Livio, III, 55, come proprii della legge
Valeria Orazia, si dovrebbe sostituire il vocabolo di populus a quello ivi
adoperato di plebs, e leggere quindi: quod tributim populus iussisset, omnem
populum teneret (Römische Forschungen, I, pag. 164-5 ). Non parmi, che questa
opinione possa essere accolta, sia perchè tutti i giuristi fanno partire il
pareggiamento del plebiscitum colla lex dalla legge Ortensia, e non dalla legge
Valeria Orazia, ed anche perchè poste riormente la denominazione di lex o di
plebiscitum non sembra più dipendere dalla composizione dei comizii, ma
piuttosto dal magistrato, da cui sono convocati, il quale come dava il suo nome
alla legge, così poteva anche attribuirvi il carattere di lex o di plebiscitum:
tanto più che la sua efficacia veniva ad essere uguale. 283 - leggicenturiate.
Questa legge pertanto significo solamente, che anche i tribuni della plebe
potevano prendere l'iniziativa di un provvedi mento, che potesse obbligare
tutto il popolo; ma che il medesimo, per avere un tale effetto, doveva poi
essere approvato dal Senato, ed ottenere anche la patrum auctoritas, come lo
dimostrano gli sforzi, che in questo periodo si fanno dai tribuni per ottenere
l'ap provazione del senato a plebisciti, come quelli di Canuleio, di Icilio e
altri ancora. Quasi si direbbe, che questo è il periodo delle seces sioni, a
cui ricorre appunto la plebe, quando non può ottenere dal senato l'approvazione
di un provvedimento da essa desiderato. Suc cede quindi una seconda legge, che
è la legge Publilia del 415 di Roma, la quale, mentre in un capo statuisce, che
la patrum auctoritas doveva precedere le leggi centuriate, ripete in un altro
l'ingiunzione già fatta che « plebiscita omnes quirites tene rent (1). È però
evidente, che la portata di questa legge verrà ad essere diversa, perchè in
virtù di essa i plebisciti, al pari delle leggi centuriate, non dovevano più
essere susseguiti, ma preceduti dalla patrum auctoritas, che comprende
probabilmente anche la senatus auctoritas. Noi abbiamo quindi un secondo
periodo, in cui tutte le proposte di provvedimenti, per parte dei tribuni della
plebe, sogliono esser precedute da trattative ed accordi fra il senato e i
tribuni della plebe, per guisa che il senato si vale talvolta di questi per
ottenere, che essi prendano la iniziativa di una determinata proposta (2 ) 233.
Da ultimo infine apparve, che anche questa previa approva (1) È lo stesso
Livio, che ci conservò i termini di questa legge, VIII, 12. (2 ) Secondo il
WILLEMS, Le Sénat, II, chap. I, l'espressione di patrum auctoritas sarebbe equipollente
a quella di senatus auctoritas. Tale opinione è divisa dal Bour GEAUD, op. cit.,
pag. 135, ed è combattuta invece dal Soltau, die Gültigkeit der Ple. biscite,
pag. 135, come pure dal Pantaleoni nella 3a parte della sua dissertazione:
Dell'auctoritas patrum nell'antica Roma (< Rivista di Filologia », Torino,
1884, pag. 350 a 395). Di fronte ad una quantità di passi di scrittori antichi,
citati da quest'ultimo, in cui si usano le espressioni di patricii auctores,
mentre altre volte si parla invece della senatus auctoritas, fra cui è notabile
il passo di Livio, III, 63, parmiche l'opinione del WILLEMS non possa essere
accolta. Ritengo tuttavia, che gli storici, mossi forse dall'identico
interesse, che potevano spingere le curie dei patrizii e il senato a fare
opposizione ad un provvedimento di iniziativa della plebe, possano talvolta
aver comprese le due cose col vocabolo alquanto incerto di patrum aucto ritas.
V. in proposito ciò, che si è detto nel capitolo precedente 83, n ° 198, pag.
240 e note relative. 284 zione dei padri, senza sempre riuscire nell'intento,
finiva per essere causa di dissidii e di secessioni. Fu quindi, in seguito ad
una di queste secessioni, che sulla proposta del dittatore Ortensio, uscito
dalla no biltà di origine plebea, sopravviene una legge Ortensia, nel 467 della
città, che ripete pur sempre la stessa formola; ma intanto toglie di mezzo la
necessità della previa approvazione dei padri e produce, se condo Pomponio,
l'effetto, che « inter plebiscita et legem species con stituendi interessent,
potestas autem eadem esset (1) ». Fu neces saria una secessione e ci volle un
dittatore per vincere questa legge; ma ve ne era ben donde, poichè, a mio
avviso, non vi ha forse nella storia della costituzione primitiva di Roma una
rivoluzione più ra dicale di questa. Con essa infatti l'antico concetto di lex,
quale era stato concepito da Roma patrizia, viene ad essere sovvertito; in
quanto che potrà esservi una legge, alla cui formazione non coope rino tutti
gli organi politici dello Stato; poichè d'allora in poi anche un solo elemento,
la plebe, può dettare leggi, che sono obbligatorie per tutto il popolo. Strappo
più grave non poteva essere arrecato alla costituzione patrizia: ma tentasi
ancora di rimarginarlo nel senso, che fu da questo tempo probabilmente, che la
nobiltà plebea co minciò a penetrare nelle curie, e che il patriziato antico si
valse * della sua iscrizione alle tribù per intervenire anche ai comizii tri
buti, i quali poterono anche esser presieduti da magistrati patrizii, e furono
anche essi preceduti dagli auspizii. Per tal modo i concilii un tempo della
plebe diventarono anch'essi comizii del popolo, e solo cambiò il criterio, che
doveva essere di base alla riunione, in quanto che i comisii centuriati si
adunavano in base al censo, e i comisii tributi in base alle tribù. Da questo
momento il senato trovossi (1) Che il pareggiamento fra la lex e il plebiscitum
parta veramente dalla legge Ortensia, la quale deve aver tolta dimezzo la
patrum auctoritas, risulta dai seguenti passi di scrittori e giureconsulti, che
erano meglio in caso di apprezzare il valore tecnico delle parole. Pomponio L.
2, 8, Dig. (1, 2 ), oltre l'espressione già riportata nel testo, scrive: « pro
legibus placuit et ea plebiscita observari », e aggiunge al $ 12: « plebiscitum,
quod sine auctoritate patrum est constitutum », con che accen nerebbe
all'abolizione della patrum auctoritas per i plebisciti. Così pure Gaio, Comm.,
I, 3: « lex Hortensia lata est, qua cautum est, ut plebiscita omnem populum
tene rent, itaque eo modo legibus exaequata sunt; Giustin., Instit., I, 2: «
sed et plebi scita, lege Hortensia lata, non minus valere, quam leges,
coeperunt ». Lo stesso confermano Aulo Gellio, Noc. Att., X, 20 e XV, 27; come
pure Plinio, Hist. nat., XVI, 15, 10. — Cfr. ORTOLAN, Histoire de la
législation romaine, pag. 161, n. 178 et suiv. e il Madvig, L'État romain,
trad. Morel, Paris, 1882, I, pag. 260. 285 costretto ad invitare frequentemente
i tribuni a presentare dei pro getti di riforme o di misure amministrative alla
plebe (agebat cum tribunis, ut ferrent ad plebem ), e quindi il tribunato viene
a for mare l'elemento riformatore, ed attivo nell'organizzazione dello Stato.
Che anzi i comizii tributi possono anche essere presieduti da magi strati
patrizii, trattandosi di leges praetoriae, o di elezioni dimagi strati minori.
Accanto ai medesimi, si mantengono perd ancora i concilia plebis: ma si
limitano a provvedimenti, che riguardano la sola plebe, e alla nomina di
magistrati esclusivamente plebei. 234. Intanto però eravi sempre l'organo
politico più potente in questo periodo, che era il senato, il quale veniva ad
essere lasciato in disparte nella formazione della legge, in quanto che non era
più richiesta la sua approvazione. È in allora che il senato, non avendo più in
questo argomento una parte proporzionata alla effettiva sua influenza, non potendo
sempre bastargli di far dichiarare gli au spicia vitiata e di rifiutare
l'esecuzione dichiarando « ea lege non videri populum teneri » viene ad essere
condotto a forzare la propria funzione consultiva. È quindi da quell'epoca, che
cominciano a compa rire dei senatusconsulti con autorità di leggi (1 ). Indarno
i seguaci del partito popolare protestano contro questa violazione della logica
inerente all'istituzione del senato, poichè questo ha influenza suffi ciente
per far valere la propria pretesa. Si capisce quindi come più tardi i
giureconsulti finiscano per esclamare « non ambigitur senatum ius facere posse
»; indicando così colla stessa loro affermazione, che il dubbio era veramente
esistito (2 ). Siccome però le trasgressioni alla logica di una costituzione
non si fanno impunemente: cosi in questa stessa epoca, anche gli editti dei
magistrati e sopratutto quelli del pretore,avendo l'appoggio dalla pubblica
opinione, finiscono ancor essi per costituire un ius non scriptum, che viene
poi a conver tirsi in un ius scriptum e in una copiosa fonte legislativa. A
questo punto lo Stato romano è ormai un organismo troppo (1) Cfr. Madvig,
L'État romain, I, 260; WILLEMS, Le Sénat, II, chap. III. Però è sopratutto il
PUCATA, che hamesso in evidenza l'importante rivoluzione introdotta della legge
Ortensia (Cursus der Institutionen). Solo mi pare di dover ag giungere, che la
rivoluzione stessa sta nell'aver cambiato il primitivo concetto di lex, e di
aver così iniziato l'esercizio di una specie di potere legislativo per parte
dei singoli organi politici dello Stato. (2 ) ULP., L. 8, Dig. (1, 3 ). 286
grande, perché possa mantenersi ancora il rigoroso principio del l'antica
costituzione patrizia, che a formare le leggi debbono con correre tutti gli
elementi costitutivi dello Stato; conviene di ne cessità lasciare, che ciascuno
di questi elementi possa dal suo canto prendere l'iniziativa. È per questo
motivo, che i comizii tributi di ventano la sorgente legislativa più copiosa,
durante gli ultimi secoli della repubblica, e che i pretori, di magistrati
preposti all'ammini strazione della giustizia, si mutano in certo modo in
legislatori (ius honorarium ): al modo stesso che più tardi anche i
giureconsulti sa ranno autorizzati a dare dei responsi, che avranno autorità di
leggi (responsa prudentum ). Tuttavia siccome tụtti questi fattori con tinuano
pur sempre a procedere sulle traccie antiche; così l'edificio non solo potrà
mantenersi saldo, ma per qualche tempo si innal zerà tanto più rapido e
grandioso, quanti più sono gli artefici, che cooperano alla costruzione. Sarà
invece quando mancherà il senso del pubblico bene, e quando scomparirà la
distinzione antica fra l'interesse pubblico e il privato, che, per salvare un
edifizio, il quale tende a scompaginarsi, sarà necessario di rimettere ogni
cosa nelle mani di un solo, la cui volontà, in base ad una apparente investi
tura del popolo, legis habet vigorem (1). Questo sguardo allo svolgimento
storico del concetto di legge, pro lungato oltre i confini, che misarebbero
prefissi, deve essermi per donato; perchè era soltanto sorprendendo il concetto
alle origini, che poteva comprendersene l'incerto ed irregolare sviluppo, come
lo dimostrano le divergenze di opinioni, che ancora oggi dominano l'ar gomento.
(1) Ulp., L. 1, Dig. (1, 4 ) « Quod principi placuit, legis habet vigorem;
utpote quum lege regia, quae de imperio eius lata est, populus ei et in eum
omne suum imperium ac potestatem conferat ». Per tal modo la lex, che era un
tempo il frutto dell'accordo di tutti gli organi politici, diventa ormai
l'opera di un solo; ma intanto si mantiene sempre il concetto, che la sorgente
di ogni potere sia il popolo; altra conferma dell'opinione, fin qui sostenuta,
relativamente alla populi potestas. Questo svolgimento storico della legge in
Roma sembra essere compendiato da POMPONIO, allorchè, dopo aver discorso delle
lotte fra la plebe, il patriziato ed il senato, con chiude dicendo: « Ita in
civitate nostra aut iure, id est lege, constituitur, aut est proprium ius
civile, quod sine scripto in sola prudentum interpretatione consistit; aut sunt
legis actiones, quae continent formam agendi; aut plebiscitum, quod sine
auctoritate patrum est constitutum; aut est magistratuum edictum, unde ius hono
rarium nascitur; aut senatus consultum, quod solum senatu constituente
inducitur sine lege; aut est principalis constitutio, id est, ut quod ipse
princeps constituit, pro lege servetur », L. 2, 12, Dig. (1, 2). 287 $ 3.-
L'elezione del rex, l'interregnum, e la lex curiata de imperio. 235. Per quello
che si riferisce al magistrato supremo del popolo romano, il concetto, a cui si
informa la primitiva costituzione pa trizia, consiste nel ritenere che, come è
immortale il popolo, cosi non debbano mai essere interrotti nè gli auspicia, nè
l'imperium, indispensabili entrambi per la prosperità della repubblica. È
questo concetto, che spiega, come, morto il re, auspicia ad patres re deant; è
questo parimenti, che condurrà più tardi a fissare il co stume per cui i magistrati
annui succeduti al re, debbono, prima di uscire di ufficio e finchè ritengono
ancora gli auspicia, proporre il proprio successore; è questo infine, che può
somministrare il mezzo per comprendere quella singolare istituzione
dell'interregnum, non che la procedura solenne per l'elezione del re, che,
introdotte fin dagli inizii di Roma, si perpetuano ancora col medesimo nome e
colle stesse formalità sotto la repubblica, allorchè i re sono aboliti, e che
in questi ultimitempi ebbero ad essere argomento di tante e cosi erudite
elucubrazioni. 236. Un recente autore, il Bouchè Leclercq, ebbe a scorgere nel
l'interregnum e nella procedura per l'elezione del re, « un capo lavoro di
casuistica, in cui appare lo spirito sottile e formalista degli antichi romani
» (1). Ciò darebbe a credere, che le due pro cedure siano una creazione
architettata dai pontefici, i quali in que st'argomento avrebbero dato prova
del loro acume teologico e giuridico. Parmi invece assai più semplice e più
verosimile il ri tenere, che i romani, in questo, come in altri casi, non si
compiac ciano nella creazione di formalità, come tali, ma intendano piuttosto a
conservare le tradizioni del passato. Le formalità infatti, che accompagnano
l'interregno e la elezione del re, non dimostrano l'investitura divina del re,
come alcuni vorrebbero: ma provano sol tanto, che i romani avevano altissimo il
concetto della continuità ideale dello Stato, alla guisa stessa, che prima
avevano avuto quello della perennità della famiglia e della gente. Esse provano
parimenti, (1) Bouché-LECLERCQ, Manuel des institutions romaines, Paris, 1886,
pag. 15. 288 che, secondo il concetto primitivo della costituzione romana, al
l'elezione del magistrato, per trattarsi dell'atto forse più importante per la
comunanza, dovevano prendere parte tutti gli elementi costi tutivi dello Stato.
Ciò stante, anche in quest'elezione riscontrasi quel carattere contrattuale,
che abbiamo trovato nella legge, in quanto che il re, già nominato e
consacrato, deve ancora sottoporre all'assemblea della curia la lex curiata de
imperio, e solo dopo la medesima può compiere gli uffici a lui affidati, come
capo civile e militare della comunanza. Infine queste formalità possono anche
considerarsi come un indizio, che in un anteriore periodo di orga nizzazione
sociale gli auspicia risiedevano nei patres, ai quali perciò dovevano
ritornare, allorchè il re veniva a mancare. 237. Per conchiudere, questa
istituzione dell' interregnum, ar gomento di tante discussioni, deve essere
considerata anche essa come un naturale processo, che dovette spontaneamente
formarsi in una comunanza primitiva, uscita allora dal seno dell'organizzazione
gentilizia: processo, che è perd rivestito di quel carattere religioso e
solenne, che i romani attribuivano ad ogni loro atto, e sopratutto a quelli,
che riguardavano il pubblico interesse. In una comunanza infatti di carattere
gentilizio, formatasi mediante una confederazione, riverente verso l'età e
memore delle tradizioni del passato, era na turale, che, mancando il capo
comune, il suo potere religioso, civile e militare dovesse passare al padre più
anziano della più antica decuria del senato, e da questa trasmettersi successivamente
ai principes delle altre decurie, che venivano dopo, in base all'an zianità,
accið non venisse ad essere offeso il senso geloso, che i capi di famiglia
avevano della propria uguaglianza, e non potesse neppur nascere il timore, che
uno di essi « regni occupandi consilium iniret ». Era naturale parimenti, che
la proposta del successore dovesse partire da uno dei padri, ed anzi dal più
anziano fra essi, sebbene sia pur consentaneo all'indole di questa comunanza,
che la sua proposta potesse essere anche comunicata agli altri padri, e che
fosse anche sentito in famigliari concioni l'avviso del popolo, ancora composto
esclusivamente di membri delle genti patrizie. Maturata così la proposta, è
l'interrè, che deve farla; le curie, che debbono approvarla; la presa degli
auspicii, che deve inaugurarla; e infine fra l'eletto e la comunanza deve
intervenire quella specie di con venzione e di accordo, che avverasi mediante
la lex curiata de imperio; la quale, sotto un aspetto, costituisce
l'investitura del ma 289 gistrato per parte del popolo, e dall'altro vincola
quest'ultimo alla obbedienza verso di quello. Infine questo processo naturale
di cose viene come al solito gittato e fuso in certe forme solenni, che si
trasmettono ad epoche, le quali mal sanno apprezzare i motivi, che le fecero adottare;
cosicchè viene ad apparire artificiosa ed architettata in modo casuistico e
sottile quella procedura, che dovette un tempo essere la naturale conseguenza
del modo di pensare e di agire di coloro, che concorrevano alla formazione di
essa. 238. Ad ogni modo il caso, di cui ci fu serbata memoria parti
colareggiata, e in cui appare in tut a la sua solennità questa pro cedura
solenne, è la elezione di Numa, il quale fra i re primitivi si presenta ancora
con un carattere pressochè patriarcale. Sparito Romolo e collocato fra gli dei
col nome di Quirino, gli auspicia e l'imperium erano passati ai capi delle
decurie del senato, che se ne trasmettevano di cinque in cinque giorni le
insegne (decem imperitabant, unus cum insignibus imperii et lictoribus erat). I
padri, che non parevano troppo soddisfatti del regis imperium, agitano il
partito se non fosse il caso di non più nominare il re: ma di lasciare, che il
potere si venga cosi avvicendando, senza che alcuno possa essere re per tutta
la vita. Il partito non prevale fra il popolo, il quale non ama di avere cento
capi, a vece di un solo, e quindi a re si sceglie Numa di stirpe sabina. È
l'interrè, che è chiamato a proporlo (rogat), ed è il popolo che è chiamato a
crearlo, mentre sono i padri, che approvano l'elezione (quirites, regem create:
deinde, si dignum crearitis, patres auctores fient). Segue poscia l'inauguratio,
che è descritta in modo particolare da Livio; e viene ultima la proposta della
lex curiata de imperio, la quale, non ri cordata da Livio, è invece ricordata e
ripetuta da Cicerone ad ogni elezione di re, quasi ad indicare l'importanza,
che la medesima doveva avere. Ci attesta poi Livio, che questta procedura, che
egli descrive come introdotta per quel caso determinato, ma che Dionisio
farebbe già rimontare allo stesso Romolo, non è stata abbandonata più tardi: «
hodieque in legibus magistratibusque rogandis usurpatur idem ius, vi adempta »,
cioè esclusa la violenza, a cui dovette dal popolo ricorrersi in quel caso,
accid i patres procedessero alla proposta del nuovo re (1) (1) Livio, I, XVII;
Cic. De Rep., II, 13, 17, 18, 20; Dion., II, 57; PLUTARCO, Numa, 2. Di fronte a
queste testimonianze concordi, non può esservi dubbio, che du G. Carle, Le
origini del diritto di Roma. 19 290 239. Il concetto informatore dell'elezione
del magistrato non po trebbe qui essere più chiaro; essa deve essere l'opera di
tutti gli organi dello Stato, ed assume un carattere pressochè contrattuale fra
magistrato e popolo, al pari di qualsiasi altra legge. Cacciati i re, il
concetto si mantiene, poichè anche con magistrati annui la con tinuità degli
auspicia e dell'imperium non deve essere interrotta; quindi è l'antecessore,
che è chiamato a proporre il successore, e se egli per qualche motivo non possa
farlo, si ricorre alla nomina di un interré, anche quando i re già sono
aboliti. Tuttavia, anche in questa parte, l'accoglimento della plebe nel
populus delle classi e delle centurie produce una modificazione nella primitiva
costituzione; modificazione, che in questi tempi diede argomento a gravissime
discussioni, e che, in coerenza alle cose sovra esposte, pud a mio avviso
essere spiegata nel modo seguente. Non può esservi dubbio che, durante il
periodo regio, l'interres era uno dei patres del senato, ai quali redibant
auspicia. Colla repubblica invece, al modo stesso che nel populus delle classi
e delle centurie fu compresa anche la plebe, così anche il senato venne ad
essere non più composto esclusivamente di patrizii, ma anche di nobili plebei;
del che alcuni scorgono un indizio nella de nominazione data ai senatori di
patres et conscripti. Comunque stia la cosa, questo è certo, che il senato,
divenuto patrizio -plebeo, non poteva più rappresentare gli antichi patres o
patricii, che erano stati i fondatori della città, e ai quali redibant auspicia.
Erano le curiae invece, le quali continuarono ancora per lungo tempo ad essere
esclusivamente patrizie, e di cui potevano fare parte anche i senatori di
origine patrizia, che di fronte al rimanente del popolo rappresentavano
l'antico ordine dei patres o dei patricii, e alle quali perciò dovevano
ritornare gli auspicia. Di qui la conseguenza, che furono i patricii, o in
altri termini le curiae, a cui venne a devolversi la proposta dell'interrex,
come lo dimostrano le espres sioni « patricii coeunt ad interregem prodendum »,
« patricii rante il periodo regio l'interrea era tolto, secondo certe regole
tradizionali, dal se nato, e che dallo stesso senato partiva la patrum
auctoritas. Anche quanto alla lex curiata de imperio, ancorchè solo ricordata
da CICERONE, di fronte alla sua atte stazione ripetuta, manca ogni motivo di
ragionevole dabbio. Non potrei quindi, come sopra già si è accennato, nº 199,
pag. 244, in nota, consentire col Karlowa, Röm. R.G., pag. 52 e 82 e segg., il
quale ritiene che la lex curiata de imperio sia entrata in azione soltanto
colla costituzione di Servio Tullio. 291 interregem produnt» e simili, e ciò
perchè l'interrex, facendo in certa guisa ancora rivivere la figura del rex
primitivo, ed essendo depositario e custode degli auspicia, durante il periodo
della va canza del magistrato, non poteva esser nominato che da patrizii e fra
i patrizii, come espressamente ci attesta Cicerone allorchè af ferma: « cum
interrex nullus sit, quod et ipsum patricium et a patriciis prodi necesse est »
(1). Come sia accaduto questo cambiamento, se cioè per legge o per il logico
sviluppo delle isti tuzioni, il che è più probabile, non si può affermare con
certezza; ma certo dovette essere questo il processo logico, che governo tale
modificazione. In questo modo infatti si vengono a rannodare insieme tre
istituzioni, che furono argomento di lunghe discussioni, e di cui tutti
riconoscono la strettissima attinenza, che sono la patru patriciorum auctoritas
per le leggi, la lex curiata de imperio per la elezione dei magistrati, e la
proposta dell'interrex, accið l'im perium e gli auspicia non siano interrotti,
durante la vacanza del magistrato. Tutte queste istituzioni non sono che
conseguenze ed ap plicazioni dell'antico principio, che « auspicia penes patres
sunt»; dal qual concetto conseguiva, che nè una legge, nè un magistrato, nè un
interrex potevano ritenersi bene auspicati per lo Stato, senza l'intervento
dell'ordine patrizio, il quale, di fronte al nuovo popolo, corrispondeva ai
patres del periodo regio. In questo senso viene ad essere spiegato quanto ci
afferma Cicerone che « curiata comitia, tantum auspiciorum causa, remanserunt »,
come pure si com prende, che col tempo i medesimi si siano ridotti ad una
imitazione od adombramento dell'antico per mezzo dei trenta littori, che rap
presentavano le trenta curie (ad speciem atque ad usurpationem vetustatis per
XXX lictores) (2 ). Intanto però, anche coll' introduzione dei comizii
centuriati, la nomina dei veri magistrati cum imperio continua ancora sempre ad
essere l'opera di tutti gli organi politici dello Stato, in quanto che vi ha
sempre il magistrato o interrè, che lo propone (rogat); il popolo delle classi
o centurie, che lo elegge (creat); il senato, che continua a dare la propria
auctoritas alla elezione (auctor fit); e da ultimo l'assemblea delle curie, che
lo investe degli auspicia e dell'imperium mediante la lex curiata de imperio,
per modo (1 ) CICERO, Pro domo sua, 14. (2) CICERO, De lege agraria, II, 11, 27
e 28. 292 che il magistrato non può entrare in ufficio, e compiere sopratutto
atti di carattere militare, prima di aver ottenuta la legge stessa (1). 240. Se
non che anchequi lo svolgimento armonico e coerente della primitiva
costituzione romana comincia a dar luogo ad un dualismo, allorehè compariscono
i magistrati plebei, e sopratutto il tribunato della plebe, il quale, pur
essendo la magistratura urbana più operosa del periodo repubblicano, non riesce
però mai ad inquadrarsi per fettamente nella costituzione politica di Roma.
Dapprima infatti i tribuni della plebe non sono ancora veri magistrati, ma
piuttosto ausiliatori della plebe, e non si pud neppure affermare con certezza
dove fossero nominati, in quanto che gli storici parlano di una no mina fatta
dalla plebe per curie, di cui non si comprende il signifi (1) Ho cercato qui di
riunire e di risolvere, mediante i concetti informatori della primitiva
costituzione di Roma, e dei cambiamenti, che in essa si vennero operando,
alcune questioni, che furono oggetto di gravi e lunghe discussioni. La patrum
au ctoritas, la lex curiata de imperio, la proposta dell'interrex furono
spiegate in varia guisa. Havvi l'opinione del Niebhur, seguìta anche dal Becker,
Röm. Alterth., vol. II, pag. 314-332, che pareggia fra di loro la patrum
auctoritas e la lex curiata de imperio, e quindiattribuisce l'una e l'altra
alle curie fin dal periodo regio; vi ha quella del WILLEMS, Le droit public
romain, pag. 208 a 212, che invece attribuisce al vocabolo di patrum auctoritas
la significazione costante di senatus auctoritas, affi dando al senato anche la
proposta dell' interrex; sonvi il Rubino, e fra i recenti il Karlowa, Röm.
R.G., I, p. 44 e seg., i quali sotto le espressioni di patrum aucto ritas e di
patricii interregem produnt scorgono i senatori patrizii, e quindi affidano ad
essi così la patrum auctoritas, come la proposta dell'interrex. Vi banno infine
quelli, i quali sostengono, che la primitiva costituzione dovette certo subire
qualche modi ficazione, allorchè la formazione delle leggi e la elezione dei
magistrati dal popolodelle curie passò al popolo delle classi e delle centurie,
e che il senato diventò pa trizio-plebeo; poichè in allora tutte le funzioni,
che si rannodavano agli auspicia, dovettero di necessità passare alle curie,
che erano il solo corpo esclusivamedelle curie passò al popolo delle classi e
delle centurie, e che il senato diventò pa trizio-plebeo; poichè in allora
tutte le funzioni, che si rannodavano agli auspicia, dovettero di necessità
passare alle curie, che erano il solo corpo esclusivamente pa trizio. Tale è
l'opinione sostenuta con molta dottrina dal PANTALEONI, L'auctoritas patrum
nell'antica Romu (Rivista di Filologia, Torino, 1884, pag. 297 a 395). Se
guendo un processo diverso, sono riuscito ad una conclusione analoga a quella
soste nuta dal Pantaleoni, e intanto ho cercato di richiamare ad un unico
concetto i varii aspetti, sotto cui presentasi la questione. Ritengo poi, che
tanto il pareggiamento della patrum auctoritas e della lex curiata de imperio
(BECKER), quanto quello della patrum auctoritas e della senatus auctoritas
(WILLEMS), quanto infine il con cetto di un senato patrizio, diviso dal plebeo,
che darebbe l'auctoritas e proporrebbe l'interrex (KARLOWA), per quanto
sostenute con ingegno e con erudizione, siano in contrasto coi passi degli
antichiautori, e collo svolgimento storico della costituzione romana. 293 cato
(1 ). Più tardi nel 283 U. C. da Publilio Volerone si ottiene, che la
plebe possa nominare i suoi tribuni nei proprii concilii, i quali cosi vengono
ad essere legalmente riconosciuti. Come quindi con tinua ad esservi sempre un
magistrato esclusivamente patrio, il qualedeve essere nominato dai patrizii
delle curie, che è l'interrex; così vengono ad esservi deimagistrati,
esclusivamente plebei, quali sono appunto i tribuni e gli edili della plebe,
che debbono esser sempre nominati nei concilia plebis. Per quello poi, che si
rife risce ai magistrati veri del popolo romano, e comuni ai due ordini, si
viene ad operare una specie di divisione del potere elettorale fra i comizii
centuriati, che continuano sempre a nominare i magi strati maggiori, ei comizii
tributi, che finiscono per attirare a sè la nomina dei magistrati minori; di
quei magistrati cioè, che un tempo erano nominati direttamente dal magistrato
maggiore. Per talmodo anche qui sonvi i poteri, in cui i due ordini si
confondono e si ripartono gli uffizii, ma rimangono ancor sempre le traccie del
l'opposizione, che un tempo esisteva fra patriziato e plebe (2 ). Infine è
ancora degno di nota in quest'argomento il processo, che i romani seguirono
nella creazione dei pro-magistrati nelle pro vincie, secondo cui i magistrati
di Roma, allorchè avevano terminato il proprio ufficio nella città, diventavano
pro-magistrati nelle pro vincie. Per noi la cosa può sembrare singolare: ma pei
romani era un processo regolare e costante, in quanto che essi, al modo stesso
che avevano prese le istituzioni gentilizie e le avevano tra piantate nella
città, così presero i magistrati di Roma, e li tras portarono nelle provincie,
prorogandone l'imperio e chiamandoli pro-magistrati, poichè i veri magistrati
dovevano essere quelli di (1) È Dionisio, IX, 41, il quale dice, che i tribuni
furono dapprima eletti nelle curie, ma in verità non si riesce a comprendere
come i difensori della plebe potes sero essere eletti coll'intervento del
patriziato; salvo che con ciò si voglia dire, che la plebe, per la nomina dei
suoi primi tribuni, siasi raccolta nel luogo stesso, ove si riunivano le
curiae. La proposta di Volerone ebbe poi grandissima importanza in quanto che è
con essa, che incomincia il riconoscimento legale dei concilia plebis. Cfr.
Bonghi, Storia di Roma, pag. 593 e segg. Non parmi tuttavia, che si possa far
rimontare a quest'epoca l'esistenza dei comitia tributa, poichè i tribuni della
plebe, anche più tardi, furono sempre nominati nei concilia plebis. (2) Questa
è una prova, che in questo periodo della costituzione politica di Roma i veri
comizii del popolo romano erano i comiziï centuriati e i comizii tributi;
mentre i comizii curiati erano solo più conservati auspiciorum causa, ed i
concilia plebis per provvedimenti di interesse esclusivo alla plebe. 294 Roma
(1 ). Veniamo ora all'esercizio del potere giudiziario nel periodo regio. § 4.
– L'amministrazione della giustizia, la distinzione fra ius e iudicium, e la
provocatio ad populum nel periodo regio. 241. Per quello che si attiene
all'amministrazione della giustizia durante il periodo regio, la questione
fondamentale, intorno a cui vi ha grande divergenza fra gli autori, è quella
che sta in vedere se l'esercizio della giurisdizione, cosi civile come penale,
apparte nesse esclusivamente al re, oppure vi avessero anche partecipazione il
senato ed il popolo. Questo è però fuori di ogni dubbio, che in questo periodo
si cercherebbe indarno una delimitazione precisa fra la giurisdizione civile e
la criminale, sebbeue già sianvi dei reati, che sono pubblicamente proseguiti,
come si vedrà più tardi, discor. rendo del parricidium e della perduellio, e
delle autorità incari cate della prosecuzione e punizione di essi (quaestores
parricidii e duumviri perduellionis ) (2). Senza pretendere di volere risolvere
le gravissime questioni, che si agitano in proposito, mi limito unicamente ad
osservare, che anche in questa parte la costituzione primitiva di Roma contiene
il germe di tutte quelle istituzioni, che son chiamate a determinare lo
svolgimento ulteriore del potere giudiziario in Roma. Queste isti tuzioni
primordiali, che gli antichi fanno già rimontare al periodo regio, sono: la
potestà di giudicare, che appartiene al re; la distin zione fra il ius e il
iudicium, per cui, accanto al magistrato qui ius dicit, già compariscono i
iudices, gli arbitri, i recuperatores in materia civile, ed i duumviri, ed i
quaestores in materia crimi nale; e da ultimo l'istituto della provocatio, che
col tempo sarà quello, che finirà per trasportare la giurisdizione penale dal
magi strato ai comizii. Questi istituti sono in certo modo altrettanti abbozzi,
che svolgendosi a poco a poco finiranno per determinare l'evoluzione del potere
giudiziario, durante il periodo repubblicano. 242. Che la potestà del ius
dicere sia compresa nella concezione (1) Non occorre di notare, che qui si
parla dei pro-magistrati, che dopo essere stati consoli o pretori in Roma, diventavano
proconsoli o propretori nelle provincie. Cfr. in proposito MOMMSEN, Le droit
public romain, I, pag. 11 e segg. (2 ) Cfr. Muirhead, Histor. introd., Sect. 15,
pag. 59. 295 - sintetica del regis imperium, sebbene non esista ancora la sepa
razione recisa fra la iurisdictio e l'imperium, è cosa a parer mio chenon può
essere posta in dubbio. Non può quindi essere accolta l'opinione del Maynz, che
quasi vorrebbe fin dal periodo regio attribuire la giurisdizione criminale al
popolo (1 ). Tuttavia in pro posito occorre di rettificare un concetto, che
sembra essere general mente adottato, secondo cui si vorrebbe in certo modo
riconoscere nel re il potere di giudicare di qualsiasi controversia e di
qualsiasi misfatto. Questo concetto ripugna col processo seguito nella forma
zione della città, e dell'imperium regis. Almodo stesso, che la ci vitas non
assorbi tutta la vita delle genti e delle famiglie, ma è dovuta ad una specie
di selezione, che si viene operando di quelle funzioni civili, politiche e
militari, che prima erano esercitate dalle singole comunanze patriarcali; così
anche il potere regio venne for mandosi, mediante lente e graduate sottrazioni,
che si vennero ope rando da quei poteri, che prima appartenevano ai capi di
famiglia e delle genti. Di qui la conseguenza, che negli esordii dovette per
lungo tempo mantenersi vigorosa, accanto al potere del re, la giu risdizione
propria dei capi di famiglia e delle genti, e che per lungo tempo ancora i capi
di famiglia curarono essi la prosecuzione delle proprie offese e continuarono
ad essere i vindici della disciplina, che doveva essere mantenuta nelle
famiglie; come lo dimostra il fatto stesso dell'Orazio, quale ci viene narrato
da Livio. Tut tavia in questa progressiva formazione del potere del magistrato
fu la stessa realtà dei fatti e l'intento della comunanza civile e po litica,
che somministrò il concetto direttivo, che ebbe a determi narla. Questo
concetto consiste in cid, che il re primitivo non si impone ai membri delle
genti e delle famiglie come tali, ma bensi ai medesimi, in quanto sono quiriti,
cioè in quanto partecipano alla stessa convivenza civile e politica. Quindi il
re dapprima non è il custode dell'ordine delle famiglie, nè il vindice delle
offese tutte, che possono patire i membri di esse; ma è il custos urbis, ed è
incaricato sopratutto di provvedere al mantenimento di quelle leges publicae,
che sono in certo modo la base della confederazione ci vile e politica, a cui
addivennero le varie comunanze. Nel resto continuano ad essere competenti i
singoli padri e capi di famiglia, V. Maynz, Introd. au cours de droit romain,
n. 20, pag. 60, ove sostiene, che anche in tema di giurisdizione criminale la
sovranità appartenesse alla nazione. 296 ed anche i capi di tutti gli altri
sodalizii di carattere religioso o civile (magistri): i quali, secondo il
concetto primitivo, hanno giuris dizione sui membri tutti del sodalizio, come
lo dimostra, fra le altre, la giurisdizione del pontefice sui sacerdozii, che
da esso dipendono (1 ). Sarà quindi solo più tardi, ed a misura che nella
cerchia delle mura cittadine saranno anche comprese le abitazioni private, che
la giu risdizione del magistrato perderà questo suo carattere, e si potrà esten
dere anche a fatti, che, quantunque compiuti fra le pareti domestiche e da
persone dipendenti dall'autorità del capo di famiglia, potranno tuttavia
produrre una pubblica perturbazione. 243. Di questo carattere speciale della
giurisdizione, spettante al magistrato primitivo di Roma, abbiamo una prova
eloquente in quella distinzione fondamentale per l'antica amministrazione della
giustizia, così civile come penale, fra il ius ed il iudicium. Sono note le
discussioni, che seguirono in proposito, e non mancarono anche coloro, che
attribuirono la divisione stessa alla separazione, che l'ingegno sottile dei
romani avrebbe tentato di fare, fin d'allora, fra il diritto ed il fatto:
cosicchè il magistrato avrebbe decisa la que stione di diritto, mentre il
giudice avrebbe poi applicato il diritto al fatto. Una simile distinzione non
si cercò mai dai Romani, perché essi professarono sempre, che ex facto oritur
ius;ma furono invece i fatti stessi e le condizioni reali, fra cui vennesi
formando la città, che condussero naturalmente a questa distinzione. Pongasi
infatti un centro di vita pubblica, che stia formandosi fra varie comunanze
patriarcali. L'effetto, che dovrà risultare da questo stato di cose, sarà
quello di produrre, fra le giurisdizioni, che con tinuano ad appartenere ai
capi delle famiglie e delle genti, una giurisdizione di carattere pubblico, che
appartenga al capo ed al (1) Cfr. Maynz, op. cit., n. 20, pag. 60, e MOMMSEN,
Le droit public romain, I, pag. 187: « Magistri (scrive Festo, po magisterare),
non solum doctores artium, sed etiam pagoram, societatum, vicorum, collegiorum,
equitum dicuntur, unde et magi stratus (Bruns, Fontes, pag. 341). È da vedersi
a questo proposito quanto ebbi ad esporre nel lib. I, Capo V, n ° 88, pag. 109
e nota relativa. (2 ) Fra gli autori, che in questa distinzione videro in certo
modo una separazione fra il diritto ed il fatto havvi il Bonjean, Traité des
actions chez les Romains, Paris, 1845, vol. I, § 29. Cfr. Carle, De
exceptionibus in iure romano, 1873, pag. 11. Di tale distinzione tratta il
BuonAMICI, Storia della procedura civile romana, Pisa, 1866, I, $ 5. 297
custode della città. Di qui la conseguenza, che la questione pre liminare, che
questo magistrato sarà chiamato a risolvere, ogni qual volta gli sia sottoposta
un'accusa od una controversia, consisterà nel decidere, se il fatto, del quale
si tratta, sia uno di quelli, che debbono essere lasciati alla giurisdizione
domestica, od invece attribuiti alla giurisdizione di carattere pubblico, che a
lui appartiene; come pure dovrà cercare, se al fatto, del quale si tratta,
siavi qualche lex pu blica, che debba essere applicata. Se quindi, ad esempio,
l'Ora zio avrà uccisa la sorella, e sarà trascinato innanzi al re in ius, la
questione, che questi è chiamato a decidere, sta in vedere, se il fatto in
questione debba essere lasciato alla giurisdizione del padre, che afferma che
la sua figlia è stata iure caesam, o se trattisi invece di tal fatto, alla cui
repressione provveda una lex publica. Ed è questa appunto la questione, che
risolve Tullo Ostilio, il quale, secondo Livio: « concilio populi advocato:
duumviros, inquit, qui Horatio perduellionem iudicent, secundum legem fació » (1).
Che se in vece di un misfatto si fosse trattato di una controversia di
carattere civile, la questione a risolversi sarà pur sempre quella di vedere,
se trattisi di un caso contemplato da una legge pubblica, e se perciò si dovrà
accordare diritto di agire secondo la legge. Solo allora il magistrato gli dirà
di agire secundum legem publicam: oppure più tardi, allorchè vi sarà una
speciale magistratura per l'amministrazione della giustizia, questa pubblicherà
nel proprio editto quali siano i casi particolari, in cui actionem dabit. Non è
perciò da ammettersi il concetto per tanto tempo ricevuto, che, secondo il
diritto civile romano, vi fossero dei diritti, che erano senz'azione; ma
soltanto si deve dire, che il diritto in Roma si venne lentamente e
gradatamente formando, e che toccava al ma gistrato di esaminare e di risolvere
la questione, se in quel caso determinato dovesse, o non, essere accordata
l'azione. Spettava quindi al magistrato (in iure) di decidere in ogni caso
particolare, se il caso stesso fosse stato tale da richiedere, in base alle
leggi, l'intervento e l'appoggio del pubblico potere: ma, una volta decisa
affermativamente una tale questione, il magistrato aveva compiuto (1 ) Liv., I,
26. Dalle espressioni, che Livio attribuisce a Tullo Ostilio, si ricava, che la
questione, che egli si propose di risolvere, consisteva nel decidere, se vi era
una legge, e quale fosse la legge, che colpiva il delitto del quale si
trattava. Cfr. PANTALEONI, Storia civile e costituzionale di Roma, I, pag. 317.
298 il proprio ufficio, e quindi poteva rimettere il giudizio o ai quae stores
parricidii, o ai duumviri perduellionis, se trattavasi di ac cusa penale, od
anche ad un iudex e perfino ai recuperatores, se trattavasi di una controversia
civile, intorno a cui le parti non si fossero poste d'accordo innanzi al
magistrato. Questo è certo, che già nel periodo regio vi furono queste varie
maniere di giudici; ed è anzi probabile, che già esistessero i iudices selecti,
il cui albo do veva probabilmente ricavarsi dal novero dei padri o senatori;
come lo dimostra la testimonianza di Dionisio, ed anche il fatto, che fu così
anche dopo, e che in una comunanza, che aveva ancora del patriarcale, era ovvio,
che i padri fossero i naturali giudici delle controversie. È certo parimenti,
che quando trattavasi di delitti ca pitali, il re doveva essere circondato da
un consilium; come ap pare dal fatto, che, secondo Livio, a Tarquinio il
Superbo fu mossa l'accusa che « cognitiones capitalium rerum sine consiliis per
se ipsum exercebat ». Era poi naturale, che anche questo consilium fosse tratto
dall'albo dei patres o senatori, e per tal modo abbiamo anche qui un ricordo
del re patriarcale, che, circondato dagli an ziani, amministra la rozza
patriarcale giustizia (1). Per quello poi, che si riferisce all'intervento
dell'elemento popo lare nell'amministrazione della giustizia civile, sembra che
il mede simo debb a attribuirsi soltanto all'epoca serviana, alla quale
puo con molta verisimiglianza farsi rimontare l'istituzione del Tribunale dei
centumuiri, come si vedrà a suo tempo. 244. Intanto è sempre dal modo, in cui
la città si venne formando, e dall'essere essa l'organo e il centroella vita
pubblica, che ven gono ad essere determinati i caratteri della procedura, che
dovette essere seguita negli esordiidella città, così nei giudizii civili come
nei giudizii penali. È infatti nel foro, ossia nella piazza, che deve essere
amministrata giustizia, come lo dimostra il fatto, che una delle ac cuse, mossa
contro Tarquinio il Superbo, fu quella appunto di essere venuto meno al
tradizionale costume, amministrando giustizia nell'in terno della propria casa
(2 ). Così pure si comprende come questa (1) Il testo è citato da Livio, I, 49.
Abbiamo poi Dionisio, II, 14, che dice parlando del re: « de gravioribus
delictis ipse cognosceret; leviora senatoribus committeret; donde si può
inferire, che anche il consilium regis dovesse, trattandosi di delitti ca
pitali, ricavarsi dal senato. Cfr. Karlowa, Röm. R. G., pag. 54. (2 ) Liv., I,
49. 299 procedura dovesse essere orale, ed ispirarsi al concetto di una
assoluta parità di condizione fra i contendenti, come quella che doveva imi
tare, cosi nei giudizii civili come nei penali, quella specie di lotta e di
certame, che un tempo dovette seguire fra i contendenti. Se si trat terà di un
misfatto, sarà il cittadino che accuserà il cittadino e cer cherà egli stesso
le prove, sovra cui si appoggia la propria accusa, e se si tratterà invece
diazione civile, sarà seguita la procedura solenne dell'actio sacramento, od
anche quella della iudicis postulatio. Di queste si è veduto come la prima già
si era formata nella stessa tribù patriarcale: mentre un tempo essa era il modo
di pro cedere del capo di famiglia contro il capo di famiglia nel seno della
tribù, venne poi ad essere trapiantata nella città, unitamente alle formalità,
che ricordano l'antica procedura patriarcale, e cominciò cosi ad usarsi dal
quirite contro ' il quirite (1 ). La seconda poi, ossia la iudicis postulatio,
fu l'effetto necessario di quella separazione del ius dal iudicium, che, come
si è dimostrato più sopra, era una con seguenza del formarsi di una
giurisdizione pubblica, accanto alle giurisdizioni di carattere domestico e
patriarcale, in quanto che, toc cando al magistrato di risolvere la questione
se in quel caso dovesse o non ammettersi un cittadino ad agire secundum legem
publicam, conveniva di necessità ricorrere a lui, accid delegasse un iudex o un
arbiter per la risoluzione della controversia; donde l'antica de nominazione
della iudicis arbitrive postulatio (2 ). Questa conget tura ha la sua base in
ciò, che all'epoca decemvirale già si trovano stabilite queste due maniere di
procedura, senza che si possa deter minare, quando le medesime siano state
introdotte. Cotali procedure tuttavia, passando dai rapporti fra capi di
famiglia, pressochè indi pendenti e sovrani, ai rapporti fra i cittadini di una
medesima città, hanno già cessato di essere semplici actiones, e sono diventate
legis actiones, in quanto che sono altrettanti modi riconosciuti dalla legge
pubblica per far valere in giudizio le proprie ragioni. 245. Soltanto più ci
resta a discorrere di una istituzione, che era (1) Quanto all'origine
gentilizia e alla naturale formazione dell'actio sacramento vedasi sopra lib.
I, n. 104. (2 ) La iudicis arbitrive postulatio è ricordata da Gaio, come una
delle più antiche legis actiones, Comm. IV, § 12, sebbene poi il manoscritto di
Verona sia stato il. leggibile nella parte, che vi si riferisce. V. quanto alla
medesima il Murhead, Hist. introd., Sect. 35, pag. 197, e il BuonamiCI, Storia
della procedura civile romana. I, Cap. VII, pag. 43 a 57. 300 poi chiamata a
ricevere una larga applicazione, durante il periodo repubblicano, e che è
indicata colla denominazione di provocatio ad populum. Si dubita dagli
scrittori, se questa istituzione già potesse esistere fin dal periodo regio, ed
alcuni lo negano, perchè ritengono, che in questo periodo le funzioni del
popolo si riducessero esclusivamente a quelle, che il re credeva di dovergli
affidare. Per parte nostra, di fronte alla testimonianza di Cicerone, che,
augure egli stesso, ebbe a dire, che della provocatio ad populum parlavano i
libri pontificii e gli augurali, il dubbio non dovrebbe più presentarsi (1 ).
Quanto alle considerazioni desunte dagli stretti confini della populi potestas,
durante il periodo regio, ed anche dalla narrazione di Livio, che nel caso
dell'Orazio parla di una provocatio ad populum, accordata da Tullo « clemente
legis interprete », parmi che esse non possano condurre ad escludere un diritto
di provocatio ad populum, che in effetto sarebbe stato invocato e fu fatto
valere dallo stesso Orazio. Pud darsi, che in quel caso particolare potessero
esservi dei motivi per dubitare, se dovesse o non essere ammessa. Ma se
l'Orazio vi ricorre, egli lo fa in base ad una consuetudine, le cui origini
dovevano rimon tare ad un'epoca anteriore. Si aggiunge, come appare dalle cose
premesse, che la costituzione primitiva di Roma dovette essere più liberale
negli inizii, quando vi era un populus, tutto composto di padri uguali fra di
loro e consapevoli del proprio diritto, che non posteriormente, allorchè il
populus cominciò ad essere composto di due classi disuguali fra di loro, cioè
del patriziato, che era il populus primitivo, e della plebe; di una classe
dirigente e di una classe, che trovavasi in posizione inferiore. In base ad una
tale costituzione primitiva, secondo cui la populi potestas era la sorgente di
tutti i pubblici poteri ed anche del regis imperium, veniva ad essere naturale
e logico, che se il ius dicere apparteneva al re, il con dannato dovesse poter
ricorrere in appello al potere supremo che era il popolo, mediante la
provocatio. Per verità di questo diritto alla provocatio fa cenno la stessa lex
horrendi criminis, i cui termini ci furono conservati da Livio « duumviri
perduellionem iudicent: si a duumviris provocarit, provocatione certato ». Era
poi naturale, che questa provocatio, al pari dell'azione e del giudizio,
venisse a canıbiarsi in quella specie di certame o di combattimento (1) Cic.,
De Rep., II, 35: « Provocationem etiam a regibus fuisse, declarant pon tificii
libri, significant nostri etiam augurales », 301 legale, che viene appunto ad
essere descritto da Livio, a proposito del giudizio dell'Orazio, in quanto che
ogni procedura patriarcale prende naturalmente questo carattere. I duumviri,
che avevano pronunziata la condanna, dovevano essi sostenere l'accusa davanti
all'assemblea del populus. Eravi cosi una specie di certamen fra essi e
l'accusato, che simboleggiava quel combattimento vivo e reale, che un tempo
aveva dovuto effettivamente seguire. Che anzi, già fin d'al lora, il populus,
trattandosi di reato di carattere politico, quale era la perduellio, poteva anche
passare sopra alla questione puramente giuridica, per giudicare invece ex animi
sententia, e assolvere, come avrebbe fatto nel caso speciale dell'Orazio,
«admirationemagis virtutis, quam iure causae » (1). Vero è, che posteriormente
nel primo anno della repubblica tro viamo una legge Valeria Orazia de
provocatione, che riconobbe solennemente al popolo questo suo diritto, il quale
fu anzi conside rato come il palladio della libertà del cittadino romano
(unicum praesidium libertatis); ma allora le circostanze erano cambiate, perchè
il populus non comprendeva solo più i patres e i patricii, ma anche la plebs, e
quindi volevasi una legge, che accomunasse e consacrasse una istituzione, forse
solo consuetudinaria, a tutto il nuovo populus quiritium, comprendendo in esso
anche la plebe (2). 246. Intanto è evidente la influenza, che questa
istituzione della provocatio ad populum, solennemente consacrata, doveva
esercitare sul futuro svolgimento della giurisdizione criminale, in quanto che
essa doveva condurre al risultato di trattenere il magistrato dal pronunziare
una condanna, da cui poteva esservi appello al popolo, e trasportare cosi in
definitiva la giurisdizione criminale dal magistrato al popolo. Tuttavia anche
qui lo svolgimento regolare e graduato ebbe ad essere per qualche tempo
interrotto, allorchè i tribuni della plebe presero a portare accuse contro i
patrizii avversi alla plebe, e contro i consoli uscenti di ufficio davanti ai
concilia plebis. Fu (1) Liv., I, 26. (2) Non potrei quindi ammettere l'opinione
del KarlowA, Röm. R. G., pag. 53 e segg., il quale, argomentando da ciò, che le
leggi Valeriae Horatiae avrebbero introdotta la provocatio ad populum, vorrebbe
inferirne, che questa sotto i re non esistesse che per la perduellio. CICERONE
parla di provocatio in genere, e quindi non vi ha motivo di restringerla, ma
vuolsi ammetterla in genere per i reati a quella epoca puniti di pena capitale,
cioè tanto per la perduellio, quanto per il parricidium. 302 allora, che la
legislazione decemvirale ebbe a stabilire il principio che soltanto i comizii
centuriati potessero pronunziare una condanna capitale (1 ). Ciò però non
impedisce, che i tribuni della plebe conti nuino ancora ad eserc itare il
proprio diritto di accusa, sopratutto per i delitti di carattere politico, e
per quelli che sono puniti di sole pene pecuniarie. Di qui deriva la
conseguenza, che anche quanto alla giurisdizione criminale viene a ripartirsi
il compito fra i comizii centuriati, che giudicano dei delitti capitali, e dd i
comizii tributi, che giudicano dei delitti, che debbono essere puniti con pene
pecuniarie, finchè l'incremento della città ed anche dei delitti perseguiti per
legge non renderà necessario di ricorrere alla istituzione delle quaestiones
perpetuae, ossia di tribunali speciali per giudicare delle diverse categorie di
delitti (2 ). Parmi con ciò di aver abbastanza dimostrato non solo l'unità e la
coerenza della primitiva costituzione patrizia; ma di aver provato eziandio,
come essa debba essere considerata come il modello e l'esem plare, sovra cui si
foggiò tuttoil posteriore svolgimento delle istituzioni politiche diRoma. Essa
fu tale dameritarsi il grande elogio diCicerone, allorchè scriveva, che la
costituzione politica di Roma formatasi « non unius ingenio, sed multorum, nec
una hominis vita, sed aliquot saeculis et aetatibus », era tuttavia riuscita
superiore in eccellenza alle costituzioni greche, che erano l'opera meditata
dei filosofi e dei sapienti. L'opera collettiva di un popolo, proseguita con
logica tenace e coerente, e accomodata ai tempi, riusciva per talmodo superiore
all'opera individuale dei più grandi ingegni del l'umanità: nam, dice lo stesso
Cicerone, facendo intervenire Sci pione, neque ullum ingenium tantum exstitisse
dicebat, ut quem res nulla fugeret quisquam aliquando fuisset; neque cuncta in
genia, conlata in unum, tantum posse uno tempore providere, ut omnia
complecterentur, sine rerum usu ac vetustate (3). Veniamo ora alle leges
regiae. (1) Cic., De leg. 3, 4: « De capite civis nisi per maximum comitiatum
ne fe runto », disposizione questa, attribuita alla legislazionedecemvirale, la
quale mirava con ciò ad impedire, che le cause capitali contro i patrizii e
contro i consoli fossero dai tribuni della plebe recate innanzi ai concilia
plebis. (2 ) Cfr. Esmein, Le délit d'adultère à Rome e la loi Iulia, de
adulteriis, nei Mélanges d'histoire du droit, Paris, 1886, pag. 71 et suiv. (3
) Cic., De Rep., II, 1. La legislazione regia durante il periodo esclusivamente
patrizio. $ 1. - Del contributo delle varie stirpi italiche alla primitiva
legislazione di Roma. 247. Dal momento che a costituire la città patrizia
concorsero comunanze, le quali erano di origine diversa, era naturale, che,
anche esistendo una certa analogia fra le loro istituzioni, non potesse perd
esservi una identità perfetta fra le medesime. È quindi evidente, che col
partecipare di diverse stirpi alla medesima città dovette ope rarsi fra di loro
una assimilazione lenta e graduata delle loro isti tuzioni giuridiche. Che
anzi, a questo proposito, un recente autore, a cui deve assai la ricostruzione
del diritto primitivo di Roma, il Muirhead, andrebbe fino a dire, che le varie
stirpi, come recarono un diverso contributo alla costituzione politica di Roma,
cosi deb bono pure aver portato un contributo diverso alla formazione del
diritto privato di Roma; contributo, che egli cercherebbe di riassu mere nei
seguenti termini: « La patria potestas spinta fino al ius vitae et necis sulla
figliuolanza; la manus ed il potere del marito sulla moglie; il concetto per
cui « maxime sua esse credebant, quae ex hostibus caepissent » (Gaio,
IV, 16 ); il diritto del credi tore di porre la mano sul debitore che non paga,
di imprigionarlo, e se occorre anche di ridurlo a schiavitù; tutto ciò insomma,
che deriva dal concetto, che la forza generi « maxime sua esse credebant,
quae ex hostibus caepissent » (Gaio, IV, 16 ); il diritto del credi tore di
porre la mano sul debitore che non paga, di imprigionarlo, e se occorre anche
di ridurlo a schiavitù; tutto ciò insomma, che deriva dal concetto, che la
forza generi « maxime sua esse credebant, quae ex hostibus caepissent »
(Gaio, IV, 16 ); il diritto del credi tore di porre la mano sul debitore che
non paga, di imprigionarlo, e se occorre anche di ridurlo a schiavitù; tutto
ciò insomma, che deriva dal concetto, che la forza generi « maxime sua
esse credebant, quae ex hostibus caepissent » (Gaio, IV, 16 ); il diritto del
credi tore di porre la mano sul debitore che non paga, di imprigionarlo, e se
occorre anche di ridurlo a schiavitù; tutto ciò insomma, che deriva dal
concetto, che la forza generi il diritto, sarebbe dovuto all'influenza
latina: « Le cerimonie religiose invece, che accom pagnano il matrimonio, il
riconoscimento della moglie, quale padrona della casa e partecipe delle cure
religiose e domestiche; il consiglio di famiglia dei congiunti, cosi paterni
che materni, che circonda il padre nell'esercizio della sua domestica
giurisdizione; la pratica del l'adozione, nell'intento di prevenire
l'estinzione della famiglia e di non privare cosi i defunti delle preghiere e
dei sacrifizii neamiglia dei congiunti, cosi paterni che materni, che circonda
il padre nell'esercizio della sua domestica giurisdizione; la pratica del
l'adozione, nell'intento di prevenire l'estinzione della famiglia e di non
privare cosi i defunti delle preghiere e dei sacrifizii neamiglia dei
congiunti, cosi paterni che materni, che circonda il padre nell'esercizio della
sua domestica giurisdizione; la pratica del l'adozione, nell'intento di
prevenire l'estinzione della famiglia e di non privare cosi i defunti delle
preghiere e dei sacrifizii neamiglia dei congiunti, cosi paterni che materni,
che circonda il padre nell'esercizio della sua domestica giurisdizione; la
pratica del l'adozione, nell'intento di prevenire l'estinzione della famiglia e
di non privare cosi i defunti delle preghiere e dei sacrifizii neamiglia dei
congiunti, cosi paterni che materni, che circonda il padre nell'esercizio della
sua domestica giurisdizione; la pratica del l'adozione, nell'intento di
prevenire l'estinzione della famiglia e di non privare cosi i defunti delle
preghiere e dei sacrifizii necessarii per il riposo delle loro anime, sarebbero
evidentemente uscite da un diverso ordine di idee, e sarebbero perciò a
ritenersi di provenienza sabina. - « Quanto all'influenza etrusca non si
sarebbe sentita che ad una data più recente;ma dovrebbe probabilmente essere
attri 304 buito alla medesima quello stretto riguardo, che deve aversi all'os
servanza delle cerimonie e delle parole solenni, nelle più impor tanti
transazioni della vita pubblica e privata » (1). Non può certam ma dovrebbe
probabilmente essere attri 304 buito alla medesima quello stretto riguardo, che
deve aversi all'os servanza delle cerimonie e delle parole solenni, nelle più
impor tanti transazioni della vita pubblica e privata » (1). Non può certamma
dovrebbe probabilmente essere attri 304 buito alla medesima quello stretto
riguardo, che deve aversi all'os servanza delle cerimonie e delle parole
solenni, nelle più impor tanti transazioni della vita pubblica e privata » (1).
Non può certamente negarsi, che la ricostruzione dell'in signe giureconsulto
appare come una verosimile congettura, quale del resto è annunciata dallo
stesso autore. Alla sua mente acutanon poteva sfuggire la stretta attinenza,
che dovette esservi fra il diritto pubblico e il privato nello svolgimento
delle primitive istitu zioni: e ciò lo condusse a questa ripartizione di parti,
che pure si appoggia al carattere e alle opere, che la tradizione attribuisce
ai re, che provengono dalle varie stirpi. Tuttavia, con tutta la reverenza
all'opinione di un insigne, crederei che questa ricostruzione del diritto
primitivo di Roma non possa essere accettata, neppure come ipotesi e congettura,
perchè è in contraddizione col modo, in cui Roma e il suo diritto si vennero
formando, e colle tradizioni, che a noi pervennero. 248. Non credo anzitutto,
che la costituzione, anche politica di Roma, possa considerarsi in certo modo
come una composizione di elementi diversi recati da questa o da quella stirpe.
In proposito ho cercato di dimostrare che l'ossatura della città primitiva fu
essen zialmente latina, e che, al pari delle altre città latine, Roma usci da
un foedus, ossia dall'accordo di varie tribù per partecipare ad una stessa
comunanza civile e politica. Quindi è che gli elementi, che sopravvennero,
entrarono tutti nei quadri della città latina, la quale fu anzi concepita sopra
un'unità cosi organica e coerente, che non può essere riguardata, come il
frutto del contemperamento di ele menti diversi (2 ). Re, senato e popolo
esistono fin dagli esordii di Roma, e a misura che nuovi elementi si
aggiungono, il re potrà sce (1) MUIRHEAD, Historical introduction to the
private law of Rome, Edinburgh. 1886, pag. 4. (2 ) In questa parte divido
perfettamente l'idea del MOMMSEN, che condanna l'opi nione di coloro « che han
voluto trasformare il popolo, che ha dimostrato nella sua lingua, nella sua
politica e nella sua religione uno sviluppo così semplice e naturale, in uno
amalgamarsi confuso di orde etrusche, sabine, elleniche e perfino pelasgiche ».
A suo avviso sono i Ramnenses, di origine latina, che non solo fondarono e
diedero il proprio nome alle città, ma che posero eziandio quelle linee
primitive, in cui entra rono poi tutte le istituzioni, che furono assimilate
più tardi » Histoire Romaine, I, liv. I, Chap. 4, pag. 54. Questa opinione, fra
gli autori recenti, è pur sostenuta dal Pelham, Encyclopedia Britannica, XX, vº
Rome (ancient), ove rinviene in Roma tutti i caratteri di una città latina. 305
gliersi da un'altra stirpe, il numero dei senatori e dei cavalieri potrà essere
aumentato, e potranno anche accrescersi i coll egi sacerdotali, ma
l'ossatura primitiva sarà sempre conservata. Vero è che un re sabino, cioè
Numa, secondo la tradizione, fu organizzatore del culto e del collegio dei
pontefici, ma auspicii e cerimonie religiose ed au gurali sono già attribuite
allo stesso Romolo; nè tutto ciò, che si riferisce all'organizzazione
domestica, può ritenersi di origine sabina, dal momento che già una legge,
attribuita a Romolo, riguarda il matrimonio per confarreationem (1). Lo stesso
è a dirsi del tribunale domestico e della tendenza delle famiglie a
perpetuarsi, che il Mui rhead vorrebbe pur ritenere di origine sabina, mentre
ne troviamo le traccie in tutti i popoli di origine Aria, e in tutti quelli
parimenti, che hanno attraversato lo stadio dell'organizzazione patriarcale (2).
Cid pure deve dirsi del cerimoniale esteriore e dell'uso di parole so lenni nei
contratti e negli atti, che il Muirhead attribuirebbe alla in fluenza etrusca,
poichè, se stiamo alla tradizione, questo cerimoniale esteriore rimonta alla
fondazione stessa della città, e quindi sarebbe anteriore all'epoca, in cui,
secondo il Muirhead, si sarebbe comin ciata a sentire l'influenza etrusca. Si
aggiunge, che le solennità di parole, di atti e di gesti non sono anch'esse un
privilegio di questa o di quella stirpe; ma sono comuni a tutti i popoli, che
attraver sarono l'organizzazione gentilizia, e trovano anzi, come si è dimo
strato, una causa naturale in ciò, che in questa condizione di cose, gli atti
ed i contratti, seguendo in certo modo, non fra individui, ma fra capi di
gruppo, acquistano una solennità, che ora direbbesi internazionale, la quale si
conserva poi eziandio negli inizii della co munanza civile e politica. Infine
non pud neppure affermarsi, che quella serie di istituzioni, che mette capo al
concetto, che il diritto scaturisce dalla forza, debba considerarsi come di
provenienza latina, in quanto che questo concetto deriva piuttosto
dall'attitudine emi nentemente guerriera, che prende il populus romanus
quiritium (1) Dion. II, 25 (BRUNS, Fontes, pag. 6 ). (2) Che questo sia un
carattere comune a tutti i popoli, che trovansi nell'orga nizzazione
patriarcale, o che escono dalla medesima, è stato dimostrato dal SUMNER MAINe,
nelle varie opere sue, e di recente dal Leist, Graeco-italische Rechtsge
schichte. Jena, 1885. Io stesso credo di averne data la prova nell'opera: La
vita del diritto nei suoi rapporti colla vita sociale, lib. I e II, seguendo le
migrazioni delle genti Arie, e dimostrando come esse abbiano trapiantato
nell'Occidente quelle istituzioni, che avevano preparato nell'Oriente) nelle
sue origini, attitudine che è comune a tutte le stirpi, che lo costituiscono;
come lo dimostra il fatto, che vi hanno genti di origine sabina (come, ad es.,
la Claudia ), ed altre di origine etrusca (come la Tarquinia), le quali
appariscono non meno amiche della forza, e fino anche della prepotenza, di
quelle di origine veramente latina, alle quali appartengono di regola le genti,
che come la Valeria, appariscono nelle tradizioni più favorevoli alla plebe, e
più disposte ad equi e a miti consigli. 249. Del resto non è un esame delle
singole affermazioni del Muirhead, che io qui intendo di fare; ma piuttosto
dalle cose pre messe intendo inferire, che, trattandosi di genti, che
probabilmente erano tutte di origine Aria, e si trovavano pressochè nel
medesimo stadio di organizzazione sociale, le istituzioni fondamentali del di
ritto privato, salvo le divergenze nei particolari minuti, dovevano essere
essenzialmente comuni alle varie stirpi. Tutte avevano isti tuzioni, in cui
prevaleva il carattere religioso; tutte compievano i loro atti con solennità e
cerimonie esteriori, che richiamavano un precedente periodo di organizzazione
sociale; e tutte possedevano l'organizzazione patriarcale della famiglia, e gli
istituti della gente, della clientela e della tribù. Cið tutto si può affermare
con certezza, dal momento, che questi caratteri sono comuni al diritto
primitivo, quale ebbe a modellarsi nell'Oriente, durante il periodo,
chepotrebbe chiamarsi della comunanza del villaggio. La stirpe tuttavia, che
diede il primo modello, in cui furono poi fuse le istituzioni analoghe, che
erano già possedute dalle varie genti, fu anche, quanto al diritto privato, la
stirpe latina, la quale appare come fondatrice della città; il che punto non
tolse, che, stante il comporsi dei varii elementi, si allargasse poi il
concetto della divinità, patrona comune della città, e si ammettessero man mano
anche istituzioniproprie di altre stirpi, ma sempre foggiandole, come Roma fece
anche più tardi, sul l'impronta latina. Che anzi credo perfino di dover
affermare, che quella potenza di assimilazione, che contraddistingue Roma,
appena compare, deve sopratutto ritenersi propria alla stirpe latina, da cui
Roma ebbe la sua prima origine. Per verità, anche prima della fondazione di
Roma, le popolazioni latine erano quelle, che avevano già mag giormente svolto
il concetto di federazione, e che perciò si di mostravano anche meno esclusive,
e perfino anche più favorevoli alle plebi, e più disposte a ricevere altri
elementi nel proprio seno, - 307 e ad apprendere in conseguenza anche dalle
istituzioni degli altri popoli. Ciò è tanto vero, che nella storia primitiva di
Roma l'ele mento etrusco fu dapprima tenuto in più basso stato, e più tardi,
quando diventò potente ed aspird alla tirannide, ne fu cacciato ed espulso;
l'elemento sabino fu quello, che, essendo ancora più tena cemente vincolato
nell'organizzazione gentilizia, si dimostrò il più esclusivo e il meno
favorevole alle plebi; mentre invece l'elemento latino fu quello che, dopo
essere stato il primo a modellare la città, entrò anche dopo in copia maggiore
a riempire tanto i quadri della città patrizia, quanto le file di quella plebe
operosa e battagliera, che ebbe tanta parte nella grandezza di Roma. Una prova
di ciò pud ravvisarsi nel fatto, che Roma, elevandosi gigante fra le altre co
munanze italiche, combattè ad oltranza cogli Etruschi, coi Sabellici e coi
Sanniti, e non si arrestd finchè ebbe quasi cancellata ogni traccia di loro
civiltà; mentre quanto ad Alba, la considerò come sua madre patria, e anzichè
estinguerla e soffocarla, dopo averla vinta, pre feri di accoglierne il
patriziato e la plebe, e di essere erede della medesima, continuando quel
processo nell'organizzazione sociale, che da essa erasi iniziato. Fra Roma da
una parte e l'Etruria e la Sabina dall'altra, vi fu pressochè una guerra di
sterminio, sopratutto fra le due prime, mentre fra Roma e il Lazio vi fu
soltanto una lotta di precedenza; perchè due città foggiate sullo stesso
modello, come Roma ed Alba, non potevano coesistere l'una in prossimità
dell'altra (1). (1 ) La questione dell'origine di Roma e dell'organizzazione,
da cui essa prese le mosse, forma tuttora argomento di discussioni fra gli
eruditi. Fra gli altri il PAN TALEONI, Storia civ. e costituz. di Roma, I, nei
primiquattro capitoli, e nella 1a appen dice aggiunta in fondo del volume,
avrebbe sostenuta l'origine sabellica di Roma e di quella organizzazione
patriarcale, di cui essa ritiene ancora le traccie, cosicchè per esso anche i
Ramnenses sarebbero Sabellici, mentre la plebe sarebbe da lui ritenuta di ori
gine latina, poichè, a suo avviso, le popolazioni latine già erano maggiormente
use alla vita della città. Credo di aver abbastanza dimostrato, che Roma
primitiva si formò sul modello latino, e che nelle stesse città latine già
eravi la distinzione fra patriziato e plebe, e quindi non sembrami che la
dottrina certo grande dell'autore possa far preva lere un'opinione,che
contraddice a tutte le testimonianze degli storici e alle tradizioni stesse del
popolo romano circa le proprie origini. Di recente poi il Casati in una nota
letta alla Académie des inscriptions et de belles lettres di Parigi,
nell'ottobre del 1886, sostenne che la gens fosse di origine Etrusca. Anche
questi nuovi studii mi confermano nella conclusione: che l'organizzazione
gentilizia sia stata un tempo comune a queste varie stirpi, e che, all'epoca
della formazione di Roma, la stirpe - 308 250. Del resto la causa di questa
divergenza col Muirhead ed il motivo, per cui ritenni di dover qui combattere
la sua teoria, devono essere cercati in un'altra divergenza ben più grave, che
sta nel modo diverso di comprendere e di spiegare la primitiva formazione di
Roma. Per il Muirhead (ancorchè, a mio avviso, egli sia fra gli autori re centi
uno di quelli, che ha posto meglio in vista il contributo diverso recato alla
formazione del diritto Romano, dal patriziato e dalla plebe), la città di Roma
continua ancor sempre ad essere il frutto dell'unione di genti appartenenti
alle stirpi latina, sabina ed etrusca, ed è ancora questo il concetto, che egli
pone a fondamento della sua ricostruzione del diritto primitivo di Roma. Era
naturale quindi che, fondendosi ed incorporandosi le varie stirpi, ciascuna
dovesse recare il proprio contributo, anche alla formazione di un comune
diritto, e che egli cercasse di discernere in questa composizione la parte, che
a ciascuna stirpe dovesse essere attribuita. Ben è vero, che alcune volte egli
si trova imbarazzato del fatto, che il diritto quiritario primitivo si presenta
del tutto insufficiente a governare tutti i rapporti di una comunanza anche
primitiva, e lascia senza norma una quantità di relazioni, che dovevano già
certamente esi stere: ma intanto il punto suo di partenza gli impedisce pur
sempre di spiegare come ciò abbia potutoaccadere (1). Che se invece si ammetta,
come ho cercato di dimostrare, che Roma è una città formata sul modello della
città latina, e che essa, uscita dalla federazione e dall'accordo, costituisce
dapprima un centro di vita pubblica, frammezzo a varie comunanze di villaggio,
in allora Sabellica non avesse ancora superata tale organizzazione, ma le
avesse dato il mag. giore svolgimento, di cui era capace, come lo dimostrano le
genti Claudia e Fabia: che la stirpe Latina fosse invece già p ervenuta al
concetto della città federale; e che da ultimo l'Etrusca fosse già pervenuta
alla città, che potrebbe chiamarsi corpora tiva. Roma partì dal tipo latino e
quindisi costitui fin dapprincipio in un centro di federazione: poi sotto
l'influenza etrusca diventò anche una città unificata; ma serbò tuttavia anche
in seguito il carattere latino, per guisa che cambiossi in certo modo in un
centro di vita pnbblica del mondo allora conosciuto. Tale difficoltà occorre al
MUIRHEAD, per esempio, allorchè a pag. 50 parla del. l'opinione di coloro, che
sostengono che Roma non conoscesse dapprima che la pro prietà degli immobili,
ed anche a pag. 54, ove, parlando dei delitti e delle pene, trova non parlarsi
di delitti, che non potevanomancare anche in una città primitiva. Questi fatti
invece sono facilmente spiegati, se si ammette la formazione progressiva e gra
duata, così della città, come del suo diritto civile e criminale, non che della
giuri sdizione spettante ai suoi magistrati. sarà facile il comprendere come,
nella formazione del suo diritto pub blico e privato, Roma, dopo aver preso
lemosse da quelle istituzioni di origine latina, che potevano già confarsi
colla comunanza civile e politica, sia poi venuta lentamente assimilando tutte
le istituzioni, che già si erano formate nel periodo gentilizio, anche presso
le altre stirpi, quando le medesime potessero conciliarsi coll'impronta primi.
tiva, che essa aveva data al suo diritto. Questo è stato certo il me todo, che
Roma seguì anche più tardi nella trasformazione del suo diritto privato; nè,
conoscendo ormai per prova la sua costanza nei processi seguiti, possiamo
averemotivo di dubitare, che essa abbia dovuto esordire nella stessa guisa. § 2.
Della esistenza di vere e proprie leggi (leges rogatae) durante il periodo
regio.Intanto questo modo di considerare la formazione di Roma e del suo
diritto mi conduce ad apprezzare la legislazione primitiva di Roma in guisa
diversa da quella, che suole essere generalmente adot tata dalla critica, e ad
accostarsi invece a quella, che, ci verrebbe ad essere indicata dalla
tradizione. Mentre la critica infatti, dopo aver resi leggendari i re, nega
pressochè ogni fede alla legislazione, che suol essere indicata col nome di
regia, e la riduce esclusiva mente ad essere opera dei collegi sacerdotali, o a
semplice raccolta di consuetudini e di tradizioni anteriori, la tradizione
invece ci dipinge il periodo regio, anteriore anche a Servio Tullio, come un
periodo di grande attività legislatrice. Or bene, a mio avviso, si deve andare
a rilento nel respingere in questa parte il racconto della tradizione. Se la
città latina in genere, e Roma sopra tutte le altre, fu dapprima un organo di
vita pubblica fra comunanze, in cui continuavasi la vita domestica e
patriarcale, viene ad essere evidente, che come la città fu il frutto di una
specie di selezione, cosi dovette pur essere del diritto, che governo i primi
rapporti fra i membri della mede sima. Le esigenze della vita civile e politica
sono diverse da quelle di una vita di carattere patriarcale: quindi se questa
poteva som ministrare i concetti religiosi, morali ed anche giuridici, già
prima elaborati, questi però non potevano essere trasportati tali e quali, ma
dovevano subire un lavoro di scelta e di coordinamento, ed è questo appunto,
che dovette compiersi durante il periodo regio. Ne ripugna il credere, che ciò
siasi potuto fare, dal momento, che si è 310 abbastanza dimostrato, come le
genti, che fondavano la città, erano lungi dall'essere del tutto primitive, ma
avevano una suppellettile copiosa di concetti e di tradizioni, che già si erano
prima formati. Esse non erano più nello stadio della primitiva formazione del
di ritto: ma erano già in quello della elaborazione e dell'adattamento di un
diritto già formato alle esigenze della vita cittadina. Ammet tasi, che in
parte siano leggendarie le figure dei primi re; ma questo è certo che,
leggendarii o no, essi dovettero sottostare alla neces sità di quella convivenza,
di cui erano i capi, e quindi dare opera vigorosa a quella selezione ed
unificazione legislativa, che era il più urgente bisogno per una città, che
risultava di elementi diversi. Conviene aver presente, che la città in genere e
sopratutto Roma, (che fra le genti italiche fu forse la prima ad iniziare il
processo di accogliere persone di discendenza diversa a partecipare alla stessa
vita pubblica ), si presentava come una istituzione novella, destinata ad un
grande avvenire. Era mediante la città, che l'uomo o meglio il capo di famiglia
cominciava ad essere qualche cosa, anche fuori della propria famiglia o gente,
e quindi non è punto a maravigliare, se un senso pubblico energico e potente
abbia potuto penetrare re, senato, sacerdoti e popolo. Quelsenso di devozione e
di abnegazione, di cui diedero prova più tardi le grandi famiglie plebee,
allorchè giunsero finalmente ad essere ammesse come eguali nella città, do
vette dapprima essere provato dagli uomini, usciti dalle genti patrizie,
allorchè sentirono di costituire un populus, malgrado la loro ori gine diversa:
e quindi non è punto probabile, che essi abbiano dovuto mantenersi del tutto
estranei alla elaborazione di quel diritto, che doveva governarli, e che tutto
lasciassero ai collegi sacerdotali ed al re loro capo. Se essi eleggevano il re
e per tale elezione si ra dunavano nei comizii, non si comprende veramente come
essi abbiano potuto essere affatto esclusi dall'opera legislativa, che era una
con seguenza inevitabile della formazione della città (1). (1) L'opinione, qui
combattuta, posta innanzi dal DIRKSEN, Die Quellen des röm misches Rechts,
Leipzig, 1823, pag. 234 e segg., in un'epoca, in cui tutta la storia primitiva
di Roma erasi convertita in una specie di leggenda, trova ancora oggidi molti
seguaci. Basti annoverare, tra i recenti, il PANTALEONI, op. cit., pag. 309; il
KARLOWA, Röm. R. G., pag. 52,ed anche il Murrhead, Hist. Introd., pag. 20. L'ar
gomento da questi due ultimi invocato consiste sopratutto nella nota
espressione di Livio: « vocata ad concilium multitudine, quae coalescere in
populi unius corpus, nulla re, praeterquam legibus, poterat, iura dedit ». Essi
argomentano dal iura 311 252. A ciò si aggiunge che in una piccola comunanza,
formata da persone, che poco prima ancora vivevano patriarcalmente, do vette
essere frequente e quotidiano il contatto fra elementi, che ora a noi
appariscono grandiosi per l'età remota e per il grande avve nire, che ebbero di
poi. È quindi assai probabile, che i rapporti fra re, padri, pontefici, auguri
e popolo fossero continui, e che perciò potesse anche formarsi una specie di
pubblica opinione in torno a ciò, che potesse esservi di comune interesse per
una città, che era uscita dalla volontà comune, e che era la creazione di
tutti. Senza voler sostenere che le concioni, da Livio e Dionisio attribuite ai
personaggi della loro storia, siano state veramente quelle, non è però
inverosimile, che concioni siansi veramente fatte, e che in tutti i casi, in
cui trattavasi di qualche pubblico interesse, potesse vera mente accadere, che
i padri intervenissero fra il popolo ed anche fra la plebe, e interponessero
nei rapporti quotidiani un'autorità di persuasione, non dissimile da quella,
che entrò a far parte sostan ziale della costituzione primitiva di Roma, sotto
il nome appunto di patrum auctoritas. Se il rispetto, che quegli uomini avevano
per l'età, e la loro disciplina domestica spiegano la solennità, con cui essi
votavano nei comizii, e il loro limitarsi a rispondere, appro vando o negando;
non possono però escludere, che quelle discussioni, che erano inopportune al
momento della votazione, potessero anche essere indispensabili e frequenti in
seno ad un popolo, che senti con tanta energia la vita pubblica, e l'influenza
della medesima. Il popolo romano, fin dalle proprie origini, non fu un popolo
nè di asceti, nè di anacoreti, che seguissero una regola conventuale: ma fu un
popolo, i cui membri appresero ben presto a dire la verità nella vita pub blica,
quantunque i suoi membri continuassero ad essere ligii ed ossequenti
all'autorità del padre nella vita domestica. dedit, adoperato invece di iura
tulit; ma è facile il notare, che le espressioni di iura dare et accipere sono
talvolta sinonime di quelle di iura ferre, come lo dimostra fra gli altri Aulo
GELLIO, XV, 28, 4, che deffinisce i plebiscita « quae, tribunis plebis
ferentibus, accepta sunt». Si aggiunge che Livio in quello stesso passo insiste
sulla necessità di vere leggi per incorporare elementi eterogenei e diversi, e
usa quel vo cabolo di legge, che pei Romani significò sempre un provvedimento
proposto dal magistrato e accettato dal popolo. Ad ogni modo questa
proposizione si riferisce an cora all'epoca anteriore alla confederazione coi
Sabini, e quindi, trattandosi ancora del capo patriarcale di una tribu militare,
si comprende che egli potesse iura dare; mentre si dovettero richiedere vere
leges rogatae, allorchè le varie tribù entrarono a partecipare alla medesima
città. La loro caratteristica prevalente non è nè la religiosità, né l'indole
guerriera, ma piuttosto quell'equilibrio e contemperamento di facoltà umane, in
cui consiste il senso giuridico e politico. La qualità, che prepondera in essi
fra le facoltà affettive, è la volontà pertinace, costante, e fra le facoltà
intellettuali è una logica, che analizza con un acume senza pari i varii
elementi dell'atto umano, e che quando ha afferrato un concetto non lo
abbandona, finchè non abbia dato tutto cid, che da esso può ricavarsi; due
qualità queste, l'una pratica e l'altra teorica, che si corrispondono
perfettamente fra di loro, e che spiegano come la storia giuridica e politica
di Roma si riduca all'applicazione costante delmedesimo processo, che inizia
tosi con essa, non fu più abbandonato fino alla completa formazione del diritto
pubblico e privato di Roma. Di qui la conseguenza, che tanto nella politica,
quanto nel diritto,Romanon procedette maiper semplice agglomerazione ed
incorporazione, ma per selezione, cosicchè apprese da tutte le genti, ma
accettò solo queimateriali, che potevano entrare nei quadri del proprio
edificio. Roma nella storia dell'umanità rap presenta, per cosi esprimersi, un
crogiuolo, in cui sono gettate tutte le istituzioni anteriori del periodo
gentilizio, e quelle che fu rono poi da essa rinvenute presso gli altri popoli
conquistati, nel l'intento di isolare dagli altri elementi della vita sociale
l'elemento giuridico e politico, e questa selezione e questo isolamento essa
cominciò ad operare fin dai proprii esordii. 254. Credo quindi che per
comprendere Roma primitiva convenga guardarsi dall'esagerare quella, che suole
essere chiamata, la reli giosità del popolo romano. Non è già che possa negarsi
ai Romani un sentimento profondamente religioso; ma essi non si trovano punto
sotto il dominio di quel terrore superstizioso della divinità, che soffoca
l'operosità umana; ma scorgono in essa una potenza, la quale invocata e resa
benevola con determinati riti, doveva condurre il popolo romano ad insperata
grandezza. Si aggiunge, che questa carattere religioso, finchè Roma fu
esclusivamente patrizia, era co mune a tutti i membri del populus, i quali
tuttiavevano un culto da perpetuare e tradizioni da conservare. Non era quindi
possibile fra essi la formazione di una classe esclusivamente sacerdotale, che
con ducesse al risultato, a cui si giunse in Oriente, di fare preponderare per
modo l'elemento religioso da soffocare affatto l'elemento politico e il
giuridico. Quanto alla differenza, sotto il punto di vista religioso, fra le
razze Arie del 313 A questo proposito pertanto è opportuno di tener distinti
eziandio due periodi in Roma primitiva: quello cioè di Roma esclusivamente
patrizia, in cui ci troviamo di fronte ad un popolo, i cui membri, uscendo
dalle genti patrizie, conoscono tutti i riti, gli auspizii e le cerimonie
religiose, e se ne servono nell'interesse comune; e quello invece, in cui fu
ammessa anche la plebe alla cittadinanza. In questo secondo periodo infatti il
populus viene a comprendere due classi: l'una, poco numerosa, ricca di
tradizioni, dotta nelle cose reli giose, esperta nelle civili e politiche; e
l'altra, che ha per sè il nu mero e la forza, ma che è nuova alla vita civile,
priva di tradizioni, e si trova nella necessità di ricevere modellato e formato
il proprio diritto dall'ordine patrizio. È solo in questo secondo periodo, che
la conoscenza degli auspicia e delius viene a cambiarsi in un ti tolo e in un
mezzo di superiorità per il patriziato, il quale se ne vale per tenere in
rispetto e in riverenza le masse. È solo allora che il diritto, le cui origini
erano già celate nell'oscurità dei tempi, e le cui formalità erano già divenute
inesplicabili per la generalità dei cittadini, viene ad essere chiuso negli
archivii dei pontefici, che sono in certo modo incaricati della custodia e
della elaborazione di esso; mentre quest'arcano e questa segretezza non
poterono certo esi stere negli esordii della città, allorchè la conoscenza del
diritto e degli auspizii era ancora comune a tutti i capi di famiglia (1). Cid
mi induce a credere, che la parte da attribuirsi al populus, nella formazione
del diritto primitivo di Roma, sia maggiore di quella, che suole generalmente
essergli assegnata; ma per riuscire in qualche modo a determinarla, importa
ricercare anzitutto la funzione, a cui furono chiamati i collegii sacerdotali
in Roma primitiva, quanto alla formazione del diritto. l'India e quelle
trasportatesi nell'Occidente, mirimetto ai concetti svolti nell'opera: « La
vita del diritto nei suoi rapporti colla vita sociale », pag. 92, n ° 33, e
agli autori, che ivi sono citati. (1) Vedasi a questo proposito il MACHIAVELLI,
Discorsi sulle deche di Tito Livio, Libro I, Cap. XI, XII, XIII e XIV, e il
MONTESQUIEU, Dissertation sur la politique des Romains dans la religion. 314 $
3. – I collegii sacerdotali in Roma e la loro influenza sulla formazione del
diritto primitivo. La caratteristica di
Roma è una mirabile coerenza nel pro cesso, che essa ebbe a seguire nei diversi
aspetti della propria for mazione. Si può quindi essere certi che come la città
fu il frutto di una selezione della cosa pubblica dalla privata, cosi anche la
re ligione pubblica di Roma non potè essere il frutto dell'agglomera zione dei
culti e delle credenze proprie delle varie genti; ma fu an ch'essa il risultato
di una selezione, per cui, mentre le singole genti e tribù continuarono nel
proprio culto gentilizio, vennesi formando nella città un culto pubblico, il
quale alla sua volta assunse poi una doppia forma, quella cioè di culto
pubblico ed ufficiale (sacra pu blica ), e di culto popolare (sacra popularia
). Ciò è dimostrato dal fatto, che fra la quantità degli Dei riconosciuti dai
Romani, quelli al cui culto intendono i flamini maggiori sono Marte, Quirino e
Giove, di cui il primo, secondo la tradizione, è il padre del fondatore,
l'altro il fondatore stesso della città, e l'ultimo infine sembra talvolta con
fondersi coll'antica divinità italica di Giano, rivestita alla Greca. Intanto
una pubblica religione richiedeva pure un pubblico sacerdozio. Questo
concentrasi dapprima nello stesso re, il quale è augure sommo e pontefice
massimo; ma poscia il re stesso, pur conservando gli auspicia del magistrato
supremo, costituisce intorno a sè dei collegii sacerdotali, i quali hanno un
carattere del tutto peculiare, in quanto che essi non hanno un compito
esclusivamente religioso,ma anche una vera importanza civile e politica. Cotali
sono sopratutto gli auguri, i feziali e i pontefici, i quali,mentre hanno un
carattere sacerdotale, che dà un'aureola religiosa al loro ufficio, compiono ad
un tempo una funzione importantissima per le genti patrizie, che è quella di
essere i custodi e gli interpreti delle tra (1) La triade di Giove, Marte e
Quirino si fa dalla tradizione rimontare a Numa, il quale avrebbe già istituiti
i tre flamini maggiori, dando però la prevalenza al fila mine di Giove (Liv.,
I, 20). Fu più tardi però, che la religione si rivestà alla Greca e ciò
sopratutto sotto l'influenza etrusca, ossia sotto gli ultimi tre re, in quanto
che fu allora che venne costituendosi la triade Capitolina di Giove, Minerva e
Giunone. Cfr. Bouché-LECLERCQ, Manuel des instit. romaines, pag. 456 a 562. 315
dizioni,non solo religiose, ma anche giuridiche e politiche, e sopra tutto di
quella parte di esse, che era indicata col vocabolo di fas, ed era considerata
come l'espressione della volontà divina. Quelle tradizioni, che in Grecia
furono lasciate ai poeti, i quali in antico avevano ancor essi un carattere
sacerdotale, in Roma invece sono affidate a collegi sacerdotali, i cui membri
sono scelti nel novero stesso dei padri, memori dei riti e degli auspicii
religiosi, i quali, malgrado il loro carattere sacerdotale, continuano pur
sempre a prendere parte alla vita civile e politica, e sono i custodi fedeli
del patrimonio tradizionale delle genti patrizie. Cid spiega come le varie
tribù primitive, a quella guisa che erano concorse in parti eguali sotto
l'aspetto politico e militare, così sembrano pure avere na propria
rappresentanza nei varii collegii sacerdotali, come lo dimostrano il numero di
tre, poscia di sei, e quindi di nove auguri e pontefici, ed anche il
numero di venti, che sembra essere stato quello dei feziali. Intanto se un
posto facevasi vacante, il vuoto veniva a riempirsi con quella stessa cooptatio,
mediante cui una nuova gente doveva essere accolta nell'ordine patrizio. Cosi
es sendo composti i collegii sacerdotali, essi erano in condizione di
contemperare e coordinare le tradizioni proprie delle varie tribù, che erano
concorse alla formazione della città; e potevano col re, che era il loro capo,
contribuire potentemente all'unificazione e al coordinamento legislativo.
Quindi è che il culto, di cui essi sono i sacerdoti, non è un culto speciale di
questa o di quella tribù, ma un culto ufficiale del popolo romano, come lo
dimostrano le appel lazioni di augures publici populi romani quiritium, di
fetiales populi romani, non che la qualificazione data ai pontifices di
sacerdotes publici populi romani. Per quello poi, che si riferisce alle
tradizioni, della cui custodia essi sono incaricati, senza voler pretendere,
che in cið potesse esservi uno scopo preordinato, questo è però certo, che si
effettud fra essi una ripartizione, la quale corri sponde ai varii aspetti,
sotto cui il diritto può essere considerato (1). (1) Non ho creduto qui di
dovermi occapare specialmente dei quindecim viri sa cris faciundis, poichè
questo collegio, iniziato da Tarquinio Prisco colla nomina di due sacerdoti per
la custodia dei libri sibillini, si cambid col tempo nel custode dei culti, che
erano di provenienza straniera. Esso quindi non esercitò alcuna diretta
influenza sul diritto specialmente privato; sebbene sia una prova evidente del
con tinuo studio dei Romani per assimilarsi le istituzioni anche religiose
degli altri po poli. È a vedersi, quanto al medesimo, il Bouché- LECLERCQ, op.
cit.,pag. 555 a 560, e il Villems, Le droit public romain, pag. 323-24. 316
257. Vengono primi gli auguri, i quali, secondo la tradizione, sem brano
costituire il più antico di questi collegii, in quanto che Roma stessa sarebbe
stata fondata coll'osservanza delle cerimonie prescritte dall'arte augurale.
Essi sono i custodi dei riti, che debbono prece dere e accompagnare tutte le
deliberazioni, che possono riferirsi al pubblico interesse, e costituiscono
cosi nella religione pubblica della città una imitazione degli stessi augurii
privati: come lo dimostra l'at testazione di Cicerone, che l'abitudine di
consultare la volontà divina era universale, e che i capi delle famiglie e
delle genti non tenevano meno dello Stato ai loro auspizii privati (1). È
indubitabile, che essi ebbero dei libri augurales, in cui serbavano le proprie
tradizioni e la propria giurisprudenza, e senza voler penetrare nei concetti, a
cui poteva ispirarsi l'arte loro, egli è certo, che essa fu una crea zione
originale, propria sopratutto alle stirpi latina e sabellica, che dimostra lo
spirito religioso e giuridico ad un tempo del primitivo popolo romano. È al
collegio degli auguri, che devesi la teoria sot. tile e complicata degli
auspicii, che dovevano essere osservati, la distinzione fra quelli, che
potevano essere favorevoli o sfavorevoli, e la precedenza che certi segni
dovevano avere sopra altri. È ad essi parimenti, che devesi l'orientamento del
templum, ossia la delimi tazione di un sito senza ostacoli e in cui potesse
spaziare la vista, per modo che gli auspizii potessero essere osservati;
delimitazione, che do vette probabilmente anche esercitare influenza sulla
scelta e sull'o rientamento dei luoghi, in cui le città dovevano essere
edificate (2 ). 258. È però notabile, che se gli auguri sono incaricati
dell'osser vanza dei riti e della custodia delle tradizioni e decisioni
augurali, è pur sempre il magistrato, che è investito dei publica auspicia, il
quale deve giudicare se i medesimi siano o non favorevoli, e può così eser
citare una influenza decisiva sulle deliberazioni relative al pubblico
interesse (3).Era poinaturale, che gliauguri, i quali, nella città esclu (1 )
Ciò è attestato da Cicer., De div., I, 16, 28. — Cfr. MOMMSEN, Le droit public
romain, I, pag. 100 e 101. (2 ) Il vocabolo di arte augurale prendesi talvolta
in senso così largo, da com. prendere non solo l'avium inspectio (donde
l'auspicium ),ma eziandio l'ispezione delle viscere degli animali, donde
l'aruspicium. Questo però è da avere presente, che l'ar spicium era di origine
latina, mentre l'aruspicium era di origine etrusca. È da ve dersi in proposito
il PANTALEONI, Storia civ. e cost., appendice III, relativa ai Luceres. (3 )
Cfr. MOMMSEN, Op. cit., I, pag. 119. 317 sivamente patrizia, erano i custodi di
riti e di tradizioni, che erano noti a tutto il populus, posteriormente,
allorchè nel populus entro anche la plebe, finissero per acquistare una grande
autorità nelle lotte fra patriziato e plebe, e per recare al primo un
potentissimo sussidio mediante riti, la cui significazione era ormai divenuta
inesplicabile, anche per persone che uscivano dalle stesse genti patrizie. La
loro po tenza ed autorità ci è sopratutto attestata da Cicerone, il quale
scrive: « maximum autem et praestantissimum in re publica ius est au gurum cum
auctoritate coniunctum », e lo prova dicendo, che essi potevano disciogliere i
comizii, rimandarli ad altro giorno, dichiararli viziati, anche dopo che eransi
tenuti, mentre intanto niuna delibera zione di pubblico carattere poteva essere
presa senza il loro inter vento (1). Però questa loro apparente onnipotenza, di
fronte allo Stato, scompare, quando si consideri, che il giudizio relativo agli
auspizii favorevoli o non appartiene al magistrato, e che gli auguri emettono
il loro avviso sulla osservanza del rito, con cui siansi tenuti i co mizi,
solamente quando siano interrogati dal senato o richiesti dal magistrato stesso.
259. Quanto al collegio dei feziali, esso è il custode e il deposi tario del
ius foeciale; ma non è certo il creatore del medesimo, come lo dimostra il
fatto, che questo erasi già formato durante il periodo gentilizio, ed era
comune ad altri popoli, pure di origine la tina e sabellica (2 ). L'istituzione
del collegio è dagli antichi attribuita ora a Tullo Ostilio, ed ora ad Anco
Marzio, ma tutti fanno rimon tare il ius foeciale ad epoca anteriore, poiché
Tullo Ostilio vi sa rebbe ricorso, anche prima che il collegio fosse da lui
istituito. Narra. infatti la tradizione, che il fatto di rimettere le sorti
della guerra fra Roma ed Alba ad un singolare combattimento fu solennemente sti
pulato coi riti proprii del ius foeciale. « I due cittadini eletti a cid, cosi
riferisce il Bonghi la tradizione, facendo le veci dei padri dei due popoli, lo
sancirono a nome di ciascuno di essi. L'uno e l'altro giurarono, invocando
Giove, che l'uno e l'altro popolo l'a vrebbe osservato. Quello dei due popoli,
che primo vi fosse ve (1) Cic., De legibus, II, 12. (2 ) Il processo di
naturale formazione, durante il periodo gentilizio, di quel ius belli ac pacis,
che costituì poi il ius foeciale dei Romani, fu esposto nel Lib. I, Cap. VII,
pag. 139 a 166. 318 nuto meno, Giove lo ferisse, come l'uno e l'altro ferivano
il porco, che sacrificavano; anzi con tanta più forza, quanto era la forza di
lui » (1). Ciò significa che il collegio dei feziali non è stato mai il giudice
della giustizia intrinseca della guerra o della opportunità della pace; l'una e
l'altra son trattate dal senato e sono deliberate dal popolo; mentre i feziali
sono incaricati dell'osservanza dei riti o custodiscono le tradizioni relative
al ius pacis ac belli. Anche essi sono messi in azione dagli organi del potere
civile e politico, e potranno talora essere chiamati a decidere delle
questioni, ma queste non si riferiscono alla giustizia intrinseca, nè almerito
delle cause di guerra, ma sono di preferenzaquestioni di rito e di procedura
(2). I feziali sono in numero di venti; riempiono i posti vacanti, mediante la
cooptatio; non hanno un capo permanente, ma scelgono caso per un pater patratus
nel proprio seno; il che è un altro indizio come veramente il pater patratus
fosse un cittadino eletto a fare le veci del popolo, e che ricordasse così
l'antico patriarca della gente e della tribù. Il ius foeciale pertanto è in
ogni sua parte una sopravvivenza del periodo gentilizio; indica lo stadio più
pro gredito, a cui erano pervenuti i rapporti anteriori fra le genti e le tribù;
dimostra come già allora vi fossero degli esperimenti di amichevole
componimento, prima di addivenire alla guerra; ed è una prova di più, che i
fondatori della città non erano popolazioni primitive nello stretto senso della
parola, ma avevano anche in questa parte un tesoro di antiche tradizioni, le
quali, serbate dallo spi rito conservatore dei Romani, furono mantenute fino a
che non di ventarono pienamente disadatte e incompatibili colla convivenza
civile e politica (3 ). 260. È poi probabile, e l'ho dimostrato a suo tempo,
che la distinzione fra foedus e sponsio fu una conseguenza del passaggio
dall'organizzazione gentilizia alla costituzione politica della città, il (1)
Bonghi, Storia di Roma, I, pag. 79. (2) Tale è pure l'opinione sostenuta dal
FusiNATO, Dei Feziali e del diritto fe. ziale, Cap. III. (3 ) Il numero dei
venti feziali, che non corrisponde a quello degli auguri e dei pontefici, può
forse essere un indizio, che il diritto feziale, comune ancora ai Latini e ai
Sabini, che erano più vicini ancora all'organizzazione gentilizia, non
apparteneva invece agli Etruschi, che, più avanzati nella vita cittadina, già
si erano maggior mente discostati da pratiche di carattere eminentemente
patriarcale. - - 319 – che rendeva tale distinzione incomprensibile per popoli,
che non erano ancora pervenuti a questo punto di svolgimento (1). Così pure è
un effetto di tale passaggio la distinzione netta, che viene operandosi fra
l'amicitia, l'hospitium,i quali si dividono in pubblici e in privati; ancorchè
sia facile di scorgere, che nel primo periodo le amicizie sono ancora curate
specialmente dallo stesso re; il qual sistema fu seguito sopratutto dalla
politica dei Tarquinii, che intrattenevano relazioni coi capi delle comunanze
vicine, e macchinavano proba bilmente un cambiamento nella forma di governo,
che doveva es sere generale (2 ). Era poi una conseguenza logica della politica
seguita da Roma nella propria formazione, che essa in questo primo periodo non
si chiudesse ancora in se medesima, ma venisse in certo modo at traendo a sè le
popolazioni vicine. Roma continua in questa parte la politica dell'asilo, dalla
tradizione attribuita a Romolo, e in ciò presenta un carattere del tutto
opposto alla formazione delle città greche, e a quella della stessa Atene.
Giovano a questo intento l'isti tuto dell'hospitium publicum, la concessione
della civitas sine suf fragio, l'istituzione del municipium, singolare
istituzione, per cui altri, pur restando nella propria terra, e partecipando
alle cose amministrative di essa, pud tuttavia prendere parte viva alla gran
dezza della patria communis, e recarsi a darvi il prorio voto, allorchè
trattisi di quelle deliberazioni, che possono interessare direttamente anche
gli abitanti dei municipia. È poi notabile il profitto, che Roma seppe ricavare
dall'istituzione, graduando e differenziando le con cessionida essa fatte ai
municipii, e svolgendone il concetto in guisa da cominciare colla concessione
di una civitas sine suffragio per giungere sino alla concessione di una
cittadinanza compiuta, il che pure a dirsi dell'istituto della colonia (3 ).
Intanto però anche qui è (1) V., quanto al foedus e alla sponsio, il Lib. I,
Cap. VII, nº 118. (2) Cid è attestato da Livio, I, 49, allorchè scrive di
Tarquinio il Superbo: « La tinorum maxime sibi gentem conciliabat, ui
peregrinis quoque opibus tutior inter cives esset; neque hospitia modo cum
primoribus eorum, sed adfinitates quoque iungebat ». (3) Inteso in questa
guisa, il sistema municipale per Roma non è che l'applica zione del sistema
stesso, che essa aveva seguito nella propria formazione, quello cioè di
interessare alle sorti della patria comune tutti i popoli, che da essa
dipendevano, facendo sempre più larghe concessioni a quelli, che le erano più
vicini, e di cui quindi poteva avere maggiore bisogno. V. sopra, Lib. I, Cap.
VII, nº 127. 320 appare, che la politica estera di Roma non appartiene punto ad
un collegio di sacerdoti,ma che nel periodo regio appartenne al re, e nel
repubblicano al senato, il quale, essendo un consesso permanente ed accogliendo
nel proprio se noi magistrati uscenti di ufficio, poteva mantenere quella
continuità tradizionale non interrotta, di cui porge un mirabile esempio la
storia politica di Roma. Infine si comprende eziandio, come il collegio dei
feziali, custode di tradizioni, che si riferivano ai rapporti colle altre
genti, non abbia avuta l'influenza effettiva, che appartenne agli auguri e ai
pontefici, perchè il nucleo delle tradizionida esso serbate non poteva trovare
applicazione nelle lotte fra patriziato e plebe. Tuttavia allorchè i due ordini
erano ancora distinti, vi furono patti fra essi, stipulati coi riti del diritto
feziale, e accompagnati, a richiesta della plebe, dalla capitis sacratio di
colui, che li avesse violati (leges sacratae) (1). 261.Non vi ha poi dubbio,
che il collegio sacerdotale più importante nell'organizzazionedella città
patrizia è, senza alcun contrasto, quello dei pontefici. È questo collegio che
riverbera nel proprio seno le istituzioni primitive di Roma. Esso infatti, a
differenza degli altri collegi, ha una costituzione monarchica, ed ancorchè
composto di più membri, è presieduto nel periodo regio dal re, e poscia dal
pontifex maximus, il quale raffigura il capo religioso del popolo romano, in
quanto costituisce una famiglia religiosa. Cid appare da questo, che il
pontefice massimo, durante la repubblica, e quindi anche il re,nel periodo
anteriore, ha una vera patria potestà sui sa cerdoti e sulle vestali, che da
esso dipendono, le quali ultime sono da lui captae in quella stessa guisa, in
cui lo sarebbe una figlia dal proprio padre o marito (2). Il collegio dei
pontefici poi, al pari del popolo dei quiriti, di cui esso ha la direzione
religiosa, ha un potere, che spiegasi in doppia direzione. Da una parte esso
costituisce il vero sacerdozio del po polo romano, e quindi prima il re e
poscia il pontifex maximus, da cui dipende lo stesso rex sacrorum, compiono i
sacrifizii proprii della religione pubblica ed ufficiale del popolo romano. Da
un altro (1) Cfr. LANGE, Histoire intérieure de Rome, I, pag. 134, e la sua
dissertazione: De sacrosanctae potestatis tribuniciae natura. Lipsiae, 1883.
(2) Cfr. Bouché-LECLERCQ, Les Pontifes de l'ancienne Rome. Paris, 1871; Ma nuel
des Instit. romaines, pag. 510 a 533. 321 - canto invece il collegio dei
ponteficideve eziandio curare, che i culti delle genti e delle famiglie non
siano interrotti (sacra privata ): e sotto quest'aspetto raduna le curie in
quanto costituiscono una religiosa famiglia nei comitia calata, per mezzo dei
proprii cala tores. Quindi è pure col suo intervento, che compiesi la cerimonia
solenne della confarreatio, la quale dà origine alle iustae nuptiae delle genti
patrizie, e consiste in una cerimonia religiosa, che si compie avanti ai
pontefici coll'intervento di dieci testimonii, che rappresentano le dieci curie
delle tribù, a cui appartiene quegli, che addiviene alle medesime. È esso
parimenti, che presiede a quei co mitia calata delle curie, in cui i membri del
popolo primitivo addiven gono all'adrogatio e al testamentum, i quali, durante
il periodo della città patrizia, dovettero ottenere un ' approvazione analoga a
quella, a cui erano sottoposte le leggi, come lo dimostra la formola
conservataci da Aulo Gellio, relativa all'adrogatio, la quale senza dubbio
doveva essere analoga a quella del testamentum. Per verità ho già cercato di
dimostrare a suo tempo come per le genti patrizie tanto l'uno che l'altro atto
dovevano subire la pubblica approvazione, in quanto che i medesimi potevano
alterare quell'organizzazione gentilizia, che aveva costituita la forza e la
superiorità del patriziato, e che in Roma primitiva volevasi conservare ad ogni
costo. Intanto ne veniva, che i Pontefici sotto quest'aspetto potevano anche
eser citare un'influenza sulla successione per quella parte, che si rife risce
alla trasmissione dell'obbligazione relativa ai sacra. 262. Tuttavia
l'importanza maggiore del collegio dei pontefici provenne sopratutto da che
questo collegio ebbe l'altissimo ufficio di serbare le tradizioni relative al
mos, al fas ed al ius, e proba bilmente dovette anche compiere quella prima
elaborazione, me diante cui il diritto, che, erasi formato fra le genti e i
loro capi, potè poi essere applicato fra i quiriti, ossia fra i membri che par
tecipavano alla medesima comunanza civile e politica (1). Essi dovet (1) Questa
funzione, essenzialmente conservatrice degli antichi riti e tradizioni, che
sarebbe stata affidata ai pontefici, parmi provata dal seguente passo di Livio,
I, 20: « Cetera quoque omnia publica privataque sacra pontificis scitis
subiecit: ne quid divini iuris, negligendo patrios ritus, peregrinosque
adsciscendo, turbaretur ». Per quello poi, che si riferisce all'adrogatio ed al
testamentum, è da vedersi ciò, che si disse per l'epoca gentilizia nel Lib. I,
Cap. IV, n ° 65, e per il periodo dei primi re in questo stesso libro, Cap. II,
nº. 220. G. Caeli, Le origini del diritto di Roma. 21 322 tero essere in questo
periodo i trasformatori dei iura gentium nel pri mitivo ius quiritium, e furono
in condizione di poterlo fare, come quelli, che erano probabilmente ricavati
dalle varie tribù, ed erano cosi in condizione di coordinare e di richiamare ad
unità le istitu zioni, che in qualche particolare potevano essere diverse.
Durante il periodo regio non può quindi essere dubbio, che il collegio dei
pontefici, presieduto appunto dal re, dovette essere un cooperatore potente di
quell'unificazione legislativa, di cui sentivasi urgente bi. sogno, e dovette
anche essere il custode e depositario della primitiva legislazione, come lo
dimostra la tradizione con attribuire a un pon tefice Papirio la prima
collezione della medesima (ius Papirianum ). Ad ogni modo era naturale,
trattandosi della legislazione di un popolo, i cui componenti prima quasi non
conoscevano altra autorità, che quella del fas, che anche questo primitivo
diritto dovesse essere ri vestito di quell'aureola religiosa, che è propria di
tutte le istituzioni, durante il periodo gentilizio. Intanto però in questo
periodo i pontefici, uscendo ancor essi dal novero delle genti, non avrebbero
potuto attri buire al diritto quel carattere di segretezza e di arcano, che
potè as sumere più tardi, in quanto che le tradizioni, di cui essi erano i
custodi, vivevano ancora fra i capi di famiglia, da cui era costituito il
populus primitivo, distribuito per curiae, corporazioni religiose e politiche
ad un tempo. 263. Era invece naturale, che col passare dal periodo regio ad una
repubblica, il cui populus non era più composto di uomini, ri cavati
esclusivamente dalle genti di origine patrizia, le funzioni del collegio dei
pontefici dovessero subire una trasformazione profonda. Essi sono sempre i
sacerdoti del popolo Romano: ma intanto non escono che da una parte di questo
populus, e sono anzi i depositari e i custodi delle tradizioni proprie di
questa parte eletta del populus, la quale continua da sola ad avere gli
auspicia e ad essere la reggi trice della città. Si aggiunge, che il potere
religioso del pontifex ma ximus, che prima apparteneva al re, viene poscia
attribuito ad una specie di magistratura sacerdotale, la quale finisce per dar
sempre più al diritto un'aureola religiosa; sebbene sia vero che questa se
parazione del potere civile dal religioso cooperò a preparare la distin zione
del ius sacrum dal ius civile. Intanto però, cosi l'uno come l'altro sono
conservati dapprima negli archivii dei pontefici (in pene tralibus pontificum
), sopratutto in quel periodo, che corre fra la cac ciata dei re e la
legislazione decemvirale, durante il quale sono i pontefici, che compiono
quell'elaborazione giuridica, che sarebbe stata impossibile permagistrati
annui, i quali ad un tempo erano chiamati a cure compiutamente diverse. Sipud
quindi affermare con certezza, che i primi elaboratori di un ius, comune al
patriziato ed alla plebe, fu rono i pontefici; cosa del resto, che è
concordemente attestata da Pomponio, da Valerio Massimo, da Cicerone e da
altri, e che era una naturale conseguenza dello stato delle cose e dei
rapporti, che in tercedevano fra i due ordini, allora in lotta fra di loro (1).
Di qui la conseguenza, che la divulgazione del diritto venne in certa guisa a
procedere di pari passo col pareggiamento politico delle due classi; ma intanto
la prima scuola dei giureconsulti fu certamente il ius pontificium; nè è a
credersi, che tutta l'opera loro potesse solo ri ferirsi al diritto sacro;
poichè i pontefici di Roma, come si è ve duto, essendo una magistratura
sacerdotale, erano i veri rappresen tanti delle genti patrizie, la cui
religiosità non escludeva il senso giuridico e politico, e neppure lo spirito
militare. Intanto ne de rivava eziandio, che, per essere resi partecipi di questa
scienza del diritto, conveniva anche ottenere l'ammessione nel collegio dei
pontefici, i cui libri e commentarii contenevano un tesoro di con cetti, molti
dei quali passarono certamente nei primi giureconsulti, che furono essi stessi
pontefici massimi(2 ). Vero è, che i frammenti, che a noi pervennero del
diritto pontificale, sembrano riferirsi esclu sivamente a prescrizioni di
diritto sacro; ma ciò proviene da che la parte relativa al ius civile passò nei
giureconsulti, ed entrò nel l'organismo vivo della giurisprudenza, mentre
quella, che aveva un carattere sacro, fini per ridursi a concetti, che poscia
più non furono compresi, e venne cosi ad essere argomento di curiosità per gli
ar cheologi e per i grammatici. Un'altra causa di questo fatto deve pur (1)
Questa influenza dei Pontefici sul diritto, sopratutto nei primi periodi della
Repubblica, è attestata da VALERIO Massimo, II, 5; Livio, IX, 46; Cic., pro Mu
rena, 11; De legibus, II, 8, 9; De oratore, III, 33. I passi relativi sono
raccolti dal Rivier, Introd. histor., pag. 121 e segg. (2 ) Basta perciò il
considerare, che i primi giureconsulti, di cui sia a noi perve nuto il nome,
come Papirio (donde il ius Papirianum ), Appio Claudio (il cui segretario Gneo
Flavio avrebbe propalato il ius Flavianum ) e Tiberio Coruncanio, che appare
come il primo giureconsulto di origine plebea, furono pontefici massimi, o
quanto meno aggregati al collegio dei pontefici. Quelli poi, che più non erano
tali, presero pur sempre le mosse dal ius pontificium, come appare ad evidenza
dalle reliquie degli antichi giureconsulti raccolte dall ' HUSCHKE, Jurisp.
anteiustin. quae supersunt. Lipsiae, 1879. 324 - riporsi in questo, che a
misura che la scienza del diritto venne a concentrarsi nelle mani dei
giureconsulti e del pretore, il diritto pon tificale venne naturalmente
restringendosi al ius sacrum, e fu in questa guisa che alla separazione, che
già erasi operata nella città patrizia fra il pubblico ed il privato, venne
poscia aggiungendosi la distinzione fra il diritto sacro e il diritto civile
strettamente inteso. Intanto perd vuolsi avere per fermo, che questo ritirarsi
del diritto negli archivi dei pontefici, durante il primo periodo della
repubblica, venne ad essere l'effetto dell'ammessione nel populus di un nuovo
ele mento, che non possedeva queste tradizioni giuridiche, e che sotto questo
aspetto doveva dipendere da un'altra classe: il qual concetto ci conduce a
combattere l'opinione, pressochè universalmente accolta, circa quella
legislazione, che suol essere compresa col vocabolo di « leges regiae ». § 4.
Delle leges regiae e della fede da attribuirsi alle medesime. 264. È abbastanza
noto come qualsiasi demolizione ne provochi un'altra; tanto più se trattisi di
un edifizio armonico e coerente. Ciò videsi sopratutto della storia primitiva
di Roma. Dopo aver resi leg gendarii i re, per guisa che si riuscì a fare la
storia, senza pur nominarli; anche la legislazione, che era aimedesimi
attribuita dalla tradizione, dovette essere considerata come una invenzione di
tempi posteriori. Parve che un popolo, il quale era solo chiamato ad ap provare
o a respingere le proposte fattegli, non potesse avere una parte effettiva
nella formazione di leggi, di cui alcune avevano un carattere essenzialmente
religioso, e che la collezione di leggi regie, accennate dagli scrittori, e
attribuite ad un pontefice Papirio, dell'e poca regia, dovesse ritenersi come
opera di tempi posteriori (1). (1) Questa opinione, che prevalse col DIRKSEN:
Die Quellen des römisches Rechts, Leipzig, 1823, trovò uno strenuo
oppositorenel Voigt: Über die leges regiae. Leipzig, 1876, la cui opera è
divisa in due parti, nella prima delle quali egli investiga la sostanza e il
contenuto delle leges regiae, mentre nella seconda si occupa dell'au tenticità
e delle fonti delle medesime. Secondo il FERRINI, Storia delle fonti del
diritto romano. Milano, 1885, pag. 3, nota 2, l'opinione del Voigt, se in
qualche parte deve temperare le esagerazioni della scuola del NIEBHUR,
dall'altra per ade rire troppo alla tradizione, non potrà forse piacere a
molti. Cid si capisce, trattan. dosi di persone educate a tutt'altra scuola; ma
intanto abbiamo un altro contri buto allo studio veramente positivo della
storia primitiva di Roma. 325 Sembrami che in questa parte la critica siasi
spinta troppo oltre, in quanto che il processo seguito da Romanella propria
formazione ac cadde invece in guisa tale, che se una legislazione regia non
fosse ram mentata dagli scrittori, dovrebbe essere pur supposta, perchè era una
necessità dei tempi. Il populus primitivo di Roma era composto di persone
appartenenti a genti patrizie, memori delle antiche tradi. zioni, e quindi non
è punto ripugnante, che il medesimo, alla guisa stessa che eleggeva il re e
conferiva l' imperium con una lex cu riata de imperio, cosi fosse pur chiamato
a dare approvazione alle leggi, che rappresentavano i patti e gli accordi, in
base a cui le varie tribù entravano a formar parte della stessa comunanza
civile e politica. Ciò non potè accadere, come narra Pomponio, finchè Romolo fu
solo capo della tribù Ramnense, stabilita nella Roma pa latina; ma dovette
divenire indispensabile, allorchè la città, la no mina del suo re, la sua
religione, il suo diritto cominciarono ad essere il frutto della confederazione
e degl'accordi seguiti fra diverse comunanze. La stessa varietà degli elementi,
che concorrevano a costituirle, rendeva opportuno, quanto ai provvedimenti, che
riguar. davano il comune interesse, di adottare la forma della legge, la quale,
elaborata e coordinata dal collegio dei pontefici, proposta dal re, appoggiata
dai padri del senato, approvata dalle curie, poteva veramente ritenersi come
l'espressione della volontà comune. In questa parte ha tutte le ragioni Livio,
allorchè ci dice, che il popolo romano era cosi composto, che « nulla re, nisi
legibus, in unius populi corpus coalescere potuisset ». Era solo a questa
condizione, che capi di tribù e di genti, fino allora indipendenti e sovrani,
potevano sottoporsi all'impero di uno stesso magistrato e di un medesimo
diritto. Lo stesso carattere religioso della le gislazione regia non può costituire
un argomento in contrario; perchè il primitivo populus diRoma era composto di
persone esperte anche nei riti e nelle cerimonie religiose, che ciascun capo di
fa miglia compieva nel seno della propria famiglia. Del resto a voler anche
ammettere, che quella parte della legislazione regia, la quale ha un carattere
esclusivamente sacro, potesse, fin da quella prima epoca, essere lasciata
intieramente alla elaborazione del collegio dei pontefici; egli è però certo,
che l'altra parte invece, la quale ha un carattere civile, giuridico e politico
ad un tempo, dovette essere il frutto del concorso dei varii organi della
costituzione primitiva di Roma, e deve perciò aver presa la forma di vere e
proprie leges rogatae. Certo possono darsi dei casi, in cui questa procedura
regolare 326 non sarà stata effettivamente adempiuta in tutte le sue parti, al
modo stesso, che, secondo gli storici, non fu sempre osservata in ogni sua
parte la procedura relativa alla nomina dei re: ma in man canza di prove in
contrario, di fronte all'attestazione concorde degli autori, che non avevano
alcun motivo di alterare le cose, e cono scendo il carattere del popolo,
osservatore costante della legalità e facile a commuoversi, quando questa non
fosse osservata, non si può essere in diritto di negare l'esistenza di vere e
proprie leggi, anche in questo periodo, in quella parte, che si riferisce a
cose di pubblico e di privato interesse (1). 265. Pur ammettendo che in questa
primitiva condizione di cose, la maggior parte dei rapporti giuridici abbia
continuato ad essere lasciata all'impero della consuetudine e del costume,
dovevano perd anche esservi quelle parti, in cui le divergenze, esistenti fra
le varie comunanze, presupponevano una unificazione ed un coordina mento, che
doveva di necessità operarsi, mediante quelle leges, che a ragione si
chiamavano publicae, perchè erano la base della comune convivenza civile e
politica. Che anzi dovettero esser queste leges, che costituirono il nueleo
primitivo di quel ius quiritium, che cominciava a sceverarsi dal fas e dai
bonimores. Siccome perd questo ius venne formandosi « rebus ipsis dictan tibus
et necessitate exigente »; cosi esso non potè formarsi di un tratto, nè essere
fin dapprincipio un organismo coerente, che provvedesse a tutti i rapporti; ma
dovette lasciare la maggior parte di questi rap porti alla consuetudine,
limitando l'opera sua a concretare quei prov vedimenti, la cui necessità
facevasi urgente e palese, a misura che la convivenza civile venivasi
svolgendo. Niun dubbio parimenti, che anche i concetti e sopratutto le forme di
questa primitiva legislazione dovessero essere tolti dal periodo anteriore: ma
il fatto stesso, per cui essi erano trapiantati in terreno diverso, dovette far
sì, che essi mutassero carattere. 266. Se intanto potesse essere
lecito anche solo tentare di rico struire il processo, con cui dovette formarsi
il primo nucleo delle istituzioni e dei concetti quiritarii, in base alla
formazione progres siva della città, crederei di poter rich iamarlo alle
seguenti leggi fondamentali: (1) Liv., I, 8. - 327 l• Un primo effetto di
questa grande trasformazione, per cui i capi e membri delle varie genti
venivano ad essere cittadini della medesima città, dovette esser quello di far
trasportare nella città e nei rapporti fra i quiriti quelle istituzioni e quei
concetti giuridici, che si erano formati nei rapporti fra le varie genti e
specialmente fra i capi delle medesime. Tutti i concetti pertanto, che apparte
nevano ai iura gentium, diventarono proprii del ius quiritium; cosicchè il
commercium, il connubium, l'actio, da rapporti fra le varie genti e i loro
capi, diventarono rapporti fra i quiriti; donde la spiegazione di quelle
solennità di carattere gentilizio, che ancora si mantengono nel diritto
primitivo diRoma. Processo più naturale di questo non sarebbesi potuto seguire,
poichè colla formazione della città i capi di famiglia e delle genti, che prima
erano indi pendenti, vennero a cambiarsi in quiriti, e quindi il loro diritto
di internazionale ed esterno, quale era prima, doveva cambiarsi in di ritto quiritario
ed interno. 2º Una seconda conseguenza poi dovette essere eziandio che questi
concetti, così trapiantati dai rapporti fra le genti, nei rapporti fra i
quiriti o membri della stessa civitas, i quali prima avevano solo avuto uno
svolgimento estensivo, poterono ricevere uno svolgimento inten sido, e
cambiarsi in altrettante propaggini, da cui scaturirono le varie forme del ius
quiritium. Dal connubium potè uscire il ius connubii con tutte le conseguenze
delle iustae nuptiae, che consistono nella manus, nella potestas, nel mancipium,
nella successione e nella tutela legittima: le quali naturalmente non poterono
in questo periodo ispi rarsi, che ai concetti dell'organizzazione gentilizia.
Il commercium parimenti si esplico nel ius commercii, con tutte le sue varie
gra dazioni del comprare e del vendere (mancipium ), dell'obbligarsi (nexum ) e
del poter ricevere o disporre per testamento (testamenti factio). Così pure
l'actio sacramento, che era una procedura fra i capi di famiglia indipendenti,
nel seno delle tribù, potè conver tirsi in una procedura fra quiriti, e siccome
eravi un magistrato, a cui si apparteneva di pronunziare circa il ius, che si
manteneva distinto dall'iudicium, così fu naturale, che accanto all'actio sacra
mento si svolgesse eziandio la iudicis postulatio (1). 3º Infine una terza
conseguenza di questa trasformazione dovette (1) È da vedersi in proposito
quanto si disse nel capitolo precedente nº. 244, pag. 298 e segg. 328
consistere in ciò, che le istituzioni, cosi trapiantate nella città, es sendo
staccate dall'ambiente, in cui si erano formate, si trovarono libere dai
vincoli, in cui prima erano trattenute, e poterono cosi ricevere tutto lo
svolgimento, a cui le portava il proprio concetto informatore. Ciascuna di esse
si ridusse in certo modo ad essere una concezione astratta; e potè così essere
sottoposta a quegli speciali processi e a quelle analisi, che sono proprii
della logica giuridica (iuris ratio ). Per tal guisa venne ad essere
un'astrazione il quirite, perchè esso non è più tutto l'uomo, ma è l'uomo
considerato sotto l'aspetto speciale dei diritti e delle obbligazioni, che gli
incombono come cit tadino; fu un ' astrazione il potere giuridico (manus)
attribuito al medesimo, in quanto che esso è concepito senza le limitazioni esi
stenti nel costume. Di qui la conseguenza, che egli come capo di famiglia (pater
familias) giuridicamente la riassume in sè stesso, e ha il ius vitae et necis
sulla moglie, sui figli, sugli schiavi; come proprietario può disporre in
qualsiasi guisa delle proprie cose; come creditore può appropriarsi e perfino
dividere il corpo del debitore. Per tal guisa tutto il diritto primitivo di
Roma è già il frutto di un'astrazione, cioè di una specie di isolamento
dell'elemento giuridico dagli altri elementi della vita sociale, per cui ogni
istituzione può ricevere quello svolgimento logico e dialettico, che
costituisce la ca ratteristica del diritto romano, e ne costituisce la superiorità
sopra tutte le altre legislazioni. Il diritto romano infatti, fin dai proprii
esordii, è uscito bensi dalla realtà dei fatti, ma fece ben presto astrazione
da essi e diede uno svolgimento logico alle proprie istitu zioni, le quali
perciò diventarono istituzioni tipiche, e poterono essere portate dapertutto,
perchè la logica è di tutti i popoli e di tutti i tempi. Fu mediante questo
processo; che i Romani poterono essere per il diritto ciò, che i Greci furono
per l'arte, e questo segreto essi già lo possedevano fin dalla prima formazione
della propria città, e continuarono sempre ad applicarlo, senza curarsi di
darne nelle opere loro una spiegazione, che sarebbe stata inutile, perchè
trattasi di un genio originario e nativo, che può essere intuito, ma non
insegnato. Tutte queste conseguenze del nuovo stato di cose poterono rica -
varsi senza bisogno di apposita legislazione, per opera di una logica istintiva
e naturale, sentita universalmente da un popolo, che mi rava diritto al proprio
scopo, e che, poste le premesse, sapeva deri varne le conseguenze. 329 267.
Intanto però eranvi altri argomenti, intorno a cui potevano esistervi
divergenze nelle istituzioni particolari delle varie tribù, ed in questi
argomenti appunto, secondo la tradizione, verrebbero ad ap parire le traccie di
una legislazione regia, la quale potrà forse non esserci pervenuta nelle sue
fattezze genuine: ma che intanto non merita punto di essere senz'altro
respinta, come una creazione di tempi posteriori (1). Essa porta in sè
un'impronta efficace di verità, in quanto che si presenta con un carattere del
tutto consentaneo ad un populus, che esce dall'organizzazione gentilizia, e le
cui isti tuzioni sono ancora tutte circondate di un ' aureola religiosa; del
che sarà assai facile persuadersi, ricostruendo e componendo insieme i rottami,
che ci pervennero di questa legislazione, per la parte, che si riferisce al
diritto privato e al diritto penale primitivo di Roma. § 5. – La famiglia e la
proprietà secondo la leges regiae. 268. Quanto al diritto privato
l'istituzione, che presentasi più ri gorosamente delineata nelle reliquie delle
leges regiae, è l'orga nizzazione della famiglia. È evidente, che essa riducesi
in sostanza ad un rudere della stessa organizzazione gentilizia, che viene ad
essere portato nel seno della città. Ma intanto separata dall'orga nizzazione
gentilizia, in cui erasi formata, e dalla quale era tempe rata in qualche
parte, presentasi con linee così rigide e precise, da riuscire a noi pressochè
incomprensibile, se non riportisi nell'ambiente, in cui dovette formarsi. Dei
varii modi, in cui questa famiglia potrà essere fondata, le leggi regie non ne
ricordano che un solo, e questo è la cerimonia re ligiosa della confarreatio,
la quale già conosciuta probabilmente alle genti delle varie tribù può
benissimo essere stata adottatta come la forma solenne e riconosciuta per il
matrimonio quiritario. Dio nisio infatti dice, che Romolo avrebbe condotto
all'onestà le donne con un'unica legge, con cui avrebbe stabilito: « uxorem,
quae nuptiis (1) La vera causa di questa critica, che tutto nega, relativamente
alla storia pri mitiva di Roma, sta nel presupposto, che il popolo fondatore
della città fosse un popolo del tutto primitivo. Ho cercato di dimostrare il
contrario, e quindi non trovo nulla di improbabile, che un popolo, che si
presenta con una quantità di tradizioni e di concetti già elaborati, fosse in
condizione tale da prendere una parte effettiva, anche nella formazione delle
leggi. 330 sacratis (confarreatione ) in manum mariti convenisset, commu nionem
cum eo habere omnium bonorum ac sacrorum ». Noi ab biamo qui il matrimonio
primitivo, esclusivamente patrizio, accom pagnato da una cerimonia religiosa;
esso compiesi coll'intervento dei pontefici e colla testimonianza di dieci
testimonii, che rappresentano le dieci curie, in cui è ripartita ciascuna tribù
primitiva; produce la comunione delle cose divine ed umane; e intanto riduce in
certo modo la moglie in posizione di figlia, rimpetto al marito; il che però
non toglie, che essa gli sia compagna nel culto domestico. È al marito, che
appartiene la giurisdizione sulla moglie pei delitti, che essa compie; anzi due
fra essi, l'adulterio ed il bere vino (per causa che proba bilmente può
riferirsi a qualche rito religioso ) possono essere puniti di morte: ma egli
deve perciò essere circondato dal tribunale dome stico, il quale è ancora una istituzione
eminentemente gentilizia (1). Il vincolo matrimoniale, stretto coll'intervento
della religione, è per per sua natura indissolubile, in quanto che non potrebbe
compren dersi, che una moglie, che è figlia al marito, possa far divorzio da
esso. Di qui una legge, che Dionisio chiama dura, la quale nega alla moglie
difar divorzio dal marito;ma intanto questi può ripudiarla,ma solo per cause
determinate, quali sarebbero il venefizio commesso a danno della prole, la
sottrazione delle chiavi e l'adulterio. Che se il marito abbandoni la moglie
per altre cause, dei suoi beni si faranno due parti, di cui una andrà alla
moglie, l'altra sarà sacra a Cerere: che se egli la venda, dovrà essere
immolato agli dei infernali (2 ). Qui pertanto il potere del marito sulla
moglie ha ancora tutti i caratteri del periodo gentilizio; ma le cerimonie
religiose, che forse potevano essere diverse presso le varie tribù, già vengono
ad essere unificate e son tutte ridotte alla confarreatio; son fissati i casi
per il ripudio; e sono anche posti certi confini ai poteri del marito sulla (1)
Le disposizioni attribuite alle leges regiae, che sono qui riprodotte, ci
furono conservate da Dionisio, II, 25; il loro testo può vedersi nel Bruns,
Fontes, pag. 6. (2) Questa legge, attribuita a Romolo relativamente al ripudium,
è ricordata da PLUTARCO, Romulus, 22. Gli autori, che studiarono di recente
l'argomento, già co minciano ad ammettere la probabilità, che nell'antico
matrimonio per confarreatio nem non potesse essere consentito il divortium, nel
senso vero della parola; il quale dovette avere origine dal divertere della
moglie dalla casa del marito nel matri monio sine manu, e poi si concretò in
una istituzione giuridica, che si estese allo stesso matrimonio cum manu. Cfr.
Esmein, La manus, la paternité et le divorce, nei Mélanges d'histoire du droit,
pag. 3 a 37. 331 moglie. A queste leggi se ne aggiunge una di Numa, che assume
un carattere più sacro, la quale è cosi concepita: « paelex aram Iunonis ne
tangito; si tanget, Iunoni, crinibus demissis, agnum foeminam caedito »: la
qual legge (se si accetta la significazione attribuita al vocabolo di paelex da
Festo, secondo cui suonerebbe la donna « quae uxorem habenti nubebat » ),
significherebbe, che il matrimonio doveva essere monogamo, e che altra donna
non poteva entrare nella casa, ed accostarsi all'altare di Giunone, protettrice
appunto delle giuste nozze; in caso contrario doveva sacrificarsi una
piacularis hostia (agnum foeminam caedito) (1). 269. Lo stesso è a dirsi della
patria potestas, la quale, secondo una legge attribuita a Romolo, duráva tutta
la vita e importava il potere di vita e di morte sul figlio, e la facoltà di
venderlo fino a tre volte per trarne profitto; alla qual legge se ne aggiunge
un'altra di Numa, secondo cui il padre, che abbia consentito alle nozze confar
reate del figlio, le quali importano la comunione delle cose divine ed umane,
più non è in facoltà di venderlo. Devono poi i padri educare tutta la prole
maschile e le figlie primogenite, e non possono mettere a morte niun feto
minore di tre anni, se non sia mostruoso o mutilato, nel qual caso deve prima
essere mostrato ai vicini, e questi deb bono approvare il suo operato;
disposizione questa, che richiama ancora le consuetudini proprie della vita
patriarcale del vicus e del pagus, ove i vicini mutansi talvolta in giudici ed
in consi glieri (2). Alle leggi relative a quest'ordine di idee può eziandio ri
chiamarsi quella, attribuita a Numa, secondo cui se una donna fosse morta in
istato di gravidanza, non doveva essere seppellita, se prima non se fosse
estratto il feto: alla quale disposizione il Voigt rannode rebbe, con molta
verisomiglianza, quel passo di lex regia, conserva toci da Paolo Diacono,
secondo cui: Si quisquam aliuta (aliter ) faxit, lovi sacer esto (3). (1)
Festo, v ° Paelices (Bruns, Fontes, pag. 350). Tutti i passi relativi possono
vedersi raccolti dal Voigt, über die leges regiae. Leipzig, 1876, § 2º, pag. 8.
(2 ) Tutte queste leggi regie, relative alla patria potestà, sono ricordate da
Dio NISIO, II, 26, 27: II, 15; II, 27. Quella attribuita a Numa è pur ricordata
da Plu TARCO, Numa, 17. Il testo delle medesime trovasi nel Bruns, Fontes, pag.
7 e 9. (3) A questa legge accenna il giureconsulto MARCELLO, L. 2, Dig. (11, 8):
mentre l'altra parte sarebbe ricavata da Festo, pº aliuta. Il Voigt ritiene
doversi combinare i due frammenti in una sola legge, Über die leges regiae, 8
13, pag. 75. 332 Iatanto però tutto quest'ordinamento religioso e politico
della fa miglia primitiva è ancora sempre sotto la protezione del fas, in
quanto che i figli, i quali maltrattino i genitori, e la nuora, che venga a
cattivi trattamenti verso la suocera, mettendo cosi in non cale il rispetto
dovuto all'età, incorrono nella capitis sacratio; la quale è pure la pena, in
cui incorre il patrono, che faccia frode al proprio cliente, e ogni altro, che
venga meno alle disposizioni re lative all'ordinamento della famiglia (1). 270.
Per quello poi, che si riferisce alla proprietà, nulla ci fu con servato circa
il carattere intimo della medesima; ma dalle disposi zioni, che Dionisio
attribuisce a Romolo relativamente alla clientela, e dall'incarico, che secondo
Festo sarebbesi da Romolo affidato ai patres o senatori, di fare assegni di
terre agli uomini di bassa condizione (tenuioribus), è lecito di inferire, che
la proprietà con tinua in parte ad avere un carattere gentilizio, e che in
questo periodo ancora si mantengono quelle proprietà o possessioni collet tive,
sulle quali si possono fare degli assegni ai clienti (2). Tuttavia nell'interno
della città vediamo già comparire netta e decisa l' isti tuzione della
proprietà privata. In virtù di una legge attribuita a Numa, quel dio Termine,
che un tempo separava i confini fra i ter ritori delle varie genti e delle
varie tribù, viene a ripartire e a consacrare la proprietà fra i quiriti, i
quali hanno già una proprietà individuale e privata, rappresentata dal proprio
heredium. Per tal modo la terminazione, che prima esisteva fra i territorii
gentilizii, come lo dimostra l'accenno, che si fa nel ius foeciale alle
divinità patrone dei confin., viene a cambiarsi anch'essa in una istituzione
quiritaria, e si introduce così la terminazione fra le proprietà private. Tutti
quindi son tenuti a porre dei termini al proprio campo, e questi sono
consacrati a Giove Termine; colui, pertanto che li ri. muova o li trasporti da
un sito all'altro, sarà soggetto alla capitis sacratio (3 ). (1) Così,ad
esempio, secondo il Mommsen in Bruns, Fontes, pag. 7, nota 6, una legge,
attribuita a Tullo Ostilio, sarebbe così concepita < si parentem puer
verberit, ast olle (ille) plorasset, puer divis parentum, sacer estod; si nurus,
sacra divis pa rentum estod. » Per i divi parentum si intendono poi i diï
manes, Cfr. Voigt, Op. cit., § 7, pag. 41. (2) Dion., II, 9; Cic., De rep., II,
9; Festo, vº Patres (Bruns, pag. 372). (3) Dion., II, 74; Festo, pº Termino.
Cfr. Voiat, Op. cit., $ 9, pag. 48. 333 Certo queste son tutte disposizioni di
legge, che consacrano isti tuzioni, che vivevano nella consuetudine e nelle
tradizioni; ma punto non ripugna, che, trattandosi di genti, le cui istituzioni
nei partico lari potevano essere diverse, le medesime abbiano anche potuto fare
argomento di disposizioni legislative, elaborate dai pontefici, pro poste dal
re, appoggiate dal senato, ed approvate dalle curie. Quanto alla sanzione
religiosa, che accompagna ciascuna legge, essa si spiega facilmente, se si
tiene conto del carattere religioso del popolo delle curiae, il quale esce
allora allora dall'organizzazione gentilizia, in cui tutte le istituzioni erano
rivestite di un ' aureola religiosa e sacra. Solo ci resta a vedere quali siano
le traccie, che ci pervennero della legislazione penale primitiva di Roma
patrizia, alla quale occorre una trattazione speciale per il peculiare
svolgimento, che ebbe a ri cevere, e per le molte discussioni, a cui diede
occasione. § 6. – Le origini della legislazione criminale in Roma e
specialmente del parricidium e della perduellio. 271. Per quanto la
legislazione criminale primitiva di Roma sia quella parte del suo diritto,
dicui giunsero a noi più scarse reliquie, tuttavia anche queste poche sono
tali, che ricomposte possono ad ditarci, come anche in essa siasi effettuato un
lento e graduato pas saggio dall'organizzazione gentilizia alla convivenza
civile e politica. Anche il delitto nel periodo regio ritiene ancora quel
carattere, che aveva assunto presso le genti patrizie; esso è un'offesa contro
gli uomini e contro l'aggregazione gentilizia, a cui essi appartengono, ma è
poi sopratutto un'offesa contro la divinità. Chi l'abbia com messo di proposito
(dolo sciens), di regola è punito colla capitis sacratio ed anche colla
consecratio bonorum; mentre se altri l'abbia compiuto per imprudenza
(imprudens) egli e la famiglia di lui sono tenuti ad offerire una piacularis hostia
alla famiglia dell'of feso (1). Ciò vuol dire, che il concetto gentilizio del
delitto e della (1) La più notabile distinzione fra il reato doloso e colposo,
che occorra nella legislazione regia, è quella che si desume dalle due leggi
attribuite a Numa, rela tive all'omicidio volontario (parricidium ), e quella
relativa all'omicidio involontario, che è ricordata da Servio nei seguenti
termini: « In Numae legibus cautum est, 334 pena viene ad essere trapiantato di
peso nel seno della città. Sono tuttavia ancora in piccol numero i misfatti, a
cui accennano le leges regiae; in quanto che non parlasi nè del furto,nè
dell'ingiuria, nè di quegli altri misfatti, che sono più tardi minutamente
preveduti dalle XII Tavole. Ciò non significa certamente, che questi misfatti
fossero ignoti, nè che i medesimi fossero impuniti: ma soltanto, che le leges
publicae (quelle almeno che giunsero fino a noi) non avevano ancora richiamato
alla pubblica giurisdizione la repressione di essi; ma avevano continuato a
lasciarli alla prosecuzione dell'offeso, che doveva perciò seguire le pratiche
tradizionali, formatesi nelle tribù, le quali già avevano ricevuta una
consacrazione religiosa (1). 272. Tuttavia fra i fatti criminosi, accennati
nelle leges regiae, già può introdursi una distinzione; sonovi dei delitti, che
possono essere ritenuti contro l'ordine delle famiglie, comprendendo anche fra
questi quello contro la proprietà, consistente nella rimozione dei termini;
altri, che sono contro la religione, quale sarebbe l'incesto della Vestale e
l'abbandono dei sacra '; e altri infine, che già possono ricevere il nomedi
crimina publica, in quanto che, fin dagli inizii della città, sonovi autorità
incaricate dalla pubblica pro secuzione di essi. Quanto ai primi mantiensi
ancora nella propria integrità l'auto rità e la giurisdizione del capo di
famiglia, il quale in certi casi è tenuto a circondarsi del tribunale domestico;
come pure sono san cite contro di essi pene di carattere sacro e religioso,
comela capitis sacratio e la consecratio bonorum. Quanto ai reati contro la
religione, appare invece la giurisdizione dei pontefici; giurisdizione, che
alcuni autori, fondandosi sul carattere sa crale del delitto e della pena in
questo periodo, avrebbero creduto, che dovesse essere prima estesa in più
larghi confini. Il carattere, che ab biamo trovato nella istituzione del
collegio dei pontefici, per cui esso appare come depositario e custode delle
tradizioni gentilizie, ci impe disce di seguire una tale opinione, in quanto
che il carattere sacrale del delitto e della pena in questo periodo non è
creazione dei pon ut si quis imprudens occidisset hominem, pro capite occisi,
agnatis eius in contione offerret arietem ». Bruns, Fontes, pag. 10. Cfr., per
ciò che si riferisce all'omicidio involontario, il Voigt, Op. cit., § 11, pag.
64 a 72. (1) Cfr. MUIRIEAD, Histor. Introd., pag. 54 a 55. 335 - tefici, ma è
un carattere proprio di tutte le istituzioni gentilizie, che si mantiene ancora
nel la città esclusivamente patrizia. Del resto la sola giurisdizione
criminale, che gli antichi scrittori attribuiscono ai pontefici, è quella relativa
alle Vestali, la quale per giunta sembra essere una conseguenza della patria
potestà, di cui essi sono rive stiti riguardo alle medesime. Sono quindi i
pontefici, che secondo una legge, che la tradizione attribuisce a Tullo
Ostilio, giudicano dell'in costo delle Vestali, il quale è considerato come un
delitto, che da una parte contamina i sacra publica, e dall'altra provoca la
ven detta di Vesta sopra il popolo. Quindi da una parte sacrificavansi alla dea
la Vestale, nei tempi più antichi col gettarla nel fiume e più tardi
seppellendola viva, e l'amante, flagellandolo fino alla morte, e dall'altra si
facevano sacrifizii di purificazione per la città. Da questo caso in fuori non
trovasi traccia di giurisdizione criminale più ampia, che sia mai spettata ai
pontefici; nè vi ha motivo di credere, che po tesse essere più estesa, dal
momento che presso i romani pareva già enorme questo potere accordato a una
magistratura sacerdotale (1). 273. A noi però importa sopratutto di cercare
come siasi venuto svolgendo il concetto del pubblico delitto; perchè è con esso,
che incomincia l'esercizio del magistero punitivo, per parte dell'autorità
sociale. Già ho accennato altrove, che la giurisdizione del magistrato in Roma
quanto ai misfatti non presentasi svolta fin dai propri inizii; ma viene invece
estendendosi, a misura che la potestà pubblica si viene rafforzando di fronte
alla giurisdizione domestica del capo di famiglia. Qualche cosa di analogo
accade eziandio nello svolgersi della nozione del pubblico delitto. I due primi
misfatti, perseguiti dalla pubblica autorità, compariscono coi nomi di
parricidium e di perduellio; e per perseguirli fin dal periodo regio sarebbero
istituiti due speciali magistrati, coi nomi di questores parricidii e di duum
viri perduellionis; fra i quali intercede perd questa differenza, che mentre i
primiappariscono quali magistrati permanenti, i secondi invece sembrano essere
nominati, caso per caso (2 ). (1) Cfr. MOMMSEN, Le droit public romain, I, pag.
187. (2 ) Ciò è dimostrato dal racconto di Livio, I, 26, relativo al fatto
dell'Orazio, in cui i duumviri perduellionis son nominati per quel caso dal re,
mentre dei quae stores parricidii abbiamo una definizione di Festo, pº
Quaestores, che parla di essi, come di autorità permanenti, create « ut de
delictis capitalibus quaererent ». 336 Son pochi i passi, che si riferiscono
all'uno e all'altro misfatto, donde la conseguenza, che non solo gli autori
moderni, ma anche gli storici antichi attribuiscono significazione diversa ai
due vocaboli. È noto infatti, che mentre Dionisio e Festo ritengono colpevole
di parricidium l'Orazio, uccisore della propria sorella, Tito Livio parla
invece di perduellio (1). In questa condizione di cose occorre ripren dere in
esami e passi di antichi autori, che sono a noi pervenuti; esa minare le
opinioni principali emesse dagli autori in una questione, che ha una
copiosissima letteratura; e poi cercare di ricomporre i testi che si
riferiscono all'argomento per ricavarne il processo logico e storico, che
dovette essere seguito nella configurazione di questi primitivi misfatti. 274.
Quanto al parricidium, i pochi passi a noi pervenuti indicano in sostanza una
certa quale meraviglia, per parte degli au tori, che Romolo, mentre aveva
lasciato senza pena e neppur rite nuto possibile il parricidium, nello stretto
senso della parola, avesse poi chiamato ogni omicidio col vocabolo di
parricidium, il che sa rebbesi pur fatto da Numa, al quale si attribuisce una
legge, secondo cui: « si quis hominem liberum,dolo sciens,morti duit,
parricidas esto ». Quanto poi alla perduellio si sa con certezza, che questo
vocabolo deriva certamente da perduellis, che in antico significava il nemico,
con cui erasi in guerra, e che il medesimo comprendeva, tanto il tradimento
verso la patria, mediante pratiche tenute col ne mico esterno di essa,
tradimento, che suole essere indicato special mente col vocabolo di proditio;
quanto eziandio le perturbazioni ed i sovvertimenti contro la cosa pubblica,
tentati all'interno, per i quali era specialmente adoperato il vocabolo di
perduellio. Circa quest'ultima però abbiamo una descrizione abbastanza completa
di un primitivo processo per causa di perduellio in Tito Livio, il quale in
questa parte, come ben nota il Bonghi, « sembra dare al proprio racconto un
colorito particolare e diverso dal rimanente, in quanto che cerca di mostrarsi
espositore preciso delle forme antiche e solenni, con cui sarebbe seguito
questo primitivo giu dizio » (2 ). Furono questa scarsità di passi e questa
incertezza negli antichi au tori, che provocarono molte indagini per spiegare
il fatto, per cui negli (1) Dion., III, 22; Festo, vº Sororium tigillum; Livio,
I, 26. (2) Liv., 1, 26; Bongai, Storia di Roma, I, pag. 102 e pag. 129 e segg.
337 inizii col vocabolo ili parricidium sarebbesi indicato ogni omicidio, ed
anche le cause, per cui gli antichi autori in un medesimo fatto poterono ora
ravvisare il carattere di parricidium, ed ora quello di perduellio (1). Fra le
molte congetture fattesi in proposito sono degne di nota sopratutto le seguenti:
quella messa prima innanzi del Gebauer, ed ora anche seguita dal Voigt, e
pressochè dalla universalità degli au tori tedeschi, secondo la quale a vece di
leggere parricidium si dovrebbe leggere paricidium, cosicchè il vocabolo
verrebbe a signi ficare l'uccisione di un pari o di un eguale (2 ); quella
messa in nanzi dal Rubino e dal Rein, secondo cui il vocabolo parricidium
significherebbe fin dagli inizii l'uccisione di un congiunto, ossia un parentis
excidium (3 ); quella sostenuta con molta dottrina dal Brüner e poi seguita
damolti altri, in base a cui parricidium avrebbe dapprima da molti altri
significato soltanto l'uccisione di un pater delle genti patrizie, e sarebbe
poi stato esteso a designare l'uccisione di qualsiasi uomo libero (4 ); e da
ultimo quella sostenuta, fra gli altri,dalWalter e dal Maynz, secondo cui idue
termini di parricidium (1) La questione non è recente, ma fu già trattata dagli
antichi criminalisti, e fra gli altri dal Sigoxio, De iudiciis, Cap. XXX, dal
Mattei, dall'UBERO e da altri, che possono vedersi citati dal CARRARA,
Programma di diritto criminale, Parte speciale, vol. I, pag. 137, $ 1138. (2 )
Il primo, che sostenne « paricidam esse, qui parem occidit fu il GEBAUER,
Dissertationes academicae, vol. I, pag. 64, § XI, il quale si fondava sul detto
di Ulpiano, che giunse veramente molto più tardi, « omnes homines esse
aequales. » L'opinione era nuova, e fu accolta come osserva il CARRARA, op. e
loc. cit., pressochè universalmente in Germania. Di recente poi il Voigt
aggiunse a questa opinione anche il peso della sua autorità: Über die leges
regiae, pag. 11 a 64, e sopratutto a pag.57, nota 130. L'opinione stessa fu
seguita fra noi anche dall'ARABIA, Princ. di diritto penale, III, pag. 258.
Quanto al CARRARA, egli sostiene, che in questo caso l'espressione « paricidas
esto » significasse « capital esto », cioè condannabile a morte; ma tale
opinione non trovò seguito (Op. cit., § 1139). (3) Tale fu l'opinione messa
innanzi dal Rubino: Untersuchungen über römische Verfassung und Geschichte.
Casellae, 1839, pag. 433-466; e dal Rein, Das Crimi nalrecht der Römer.
Lipsiae, 1844, pag. 401 e segg. (4 ) L'autore, che a mio avviso sostenne con
grande erudizione, e con un senso vero di romanità, quest'opinione è il BRÜNER
in una dissertazione col titolo « De parricidii crimine et quaestoribux
parricidii », letta il 2 marzo 1857 e riportata negli Acta societatis
scientiarum Fennicae, Helsingforsiae, 1858, pag. 519 a 569. Quest'o pinione è
anche seguìta dal GORRIUS, in una dissertazione di laurea: « De parricidii
notione apud antiquissimos romanos », Bonnae, 1869, notevole per la rassegna,
che fa delle opinioni professate daglialtri autori. G. CARLE, Le origini del
diritto di Roma. 22 338 e di perduellio sarebbero fra loro pareggiati, e
significherebbero qualsiasi delitto, che per sua natura sia tale da chiamare la
pub blica vendetta, e da eccitare una ripulsione universale (1). 275. Or bene
con tutta la riverenza, che deve certo aversi per un autore cosi benemerito
degli studii sul diritto primitivo, quale è il Voigt, non ritengo, che possa
adottarsi l'opinione da lui seguita, secondo cui parricidium significherebbe il
paris excidium. Anzi. tutto è malagevole di trovare negli esordii di Roma
l'idea di questa parità e di questa uguaglianza giuridica, in quanto che, se si
tol gano i capi di famiglia, non vi sono altre persone, che abbiano un'assoluta
parità di diritto. Vi ha di più, ed è che, mettendo il concetto della parità a
fondamento della figura criminosa del pa ricidium, ne verrebbe come
conseguenza, che allora soltanto vi sa rebbe paricidium, quando un pari
uccidesse un altro pari, cioè quando cosi l'uccisore che l'ucciso fossero in
condizioni uguali fra di loro; il che certo non può richiedersi. Infine male si
comprende, come questa figura primitiva di reato si venga foggiando sopra un
con cetto puramente astratto, come è quello della uguaglianza, mentre vediamo,
che tutte le altre distinzioni di reati, ed anche le confi gurazioni giuridiche
di altra natura, che compariscono nell'antico diritto, vengono piuttosto ad
essere determinate da circostanze este riori di fatto, come accade dal furtum
manifestum, nec manife stum, conceptum, ed oblatum, ed anche della distinzione
della res mancipii e nec mancipii, come pure delle mancipationes, vindi
cationes, e simili. Cið anche per il motivo, che nel linguaggio pri mitivo si
passa di preferenza da una significazione fisica ad una mo rale, o da una
concreta ad un astratta, di quello che non accada il contrario. Quanto al fatto,
che il vocabolo parricidium e parricidas in certi antichi codici trovisi
scritto paricidium e paricidas, non può avere importanza, quando si consideri,
che nelle leggi arcaiche trovansi soventi le lettere semplici, a vece delle
doppie, come lo di mostra l'antico Senatusconsulto de bacchanalibus » in cui
occor rono le parole esent, velent, bacanal per essent, vellent, baccanal;
quest'argomento del resto è anche distrutto da ciò, che son vi pure (1) Questa
opinione enunziata prima dal WALTER, Storia del diritto romano. Trad. BOLLATI,
8 766, vol. II, pag. 450, fu di recente anche sostenuta dal Maynz, Introd., $
18, 1, pag. 55. Essa però fu vigorosamente confutata dal Koestlin: Die
perduellio unter der römischen Königen. Tubing, 1841, pag. 10-14. 339 dei
codici, in cui occorrono le parole patricidium e patricidas, le quali attestano
cosi anche la materiale derivazione dei due vocaboli da patris excidium. Vero
è, che anche, fra gli antichi autori, se ne trovano di quelli, che sembrano
accennare a questa origine del vocabolo; ma non è punto improbabile, che,
allorquando la figura del parricidium aveva già presa altra significazione
nella lex Pom peia de parricidiis, siasi anche allora cercato di spiegare nello
stesso modo, cioè col ricorrere all'analogia delle parole, il vocabolo
primitivo, con cui erasi indicato l'homicidium (1). 276. Non può del pari
ammettersi, che il vocabolo parricidium abbia significato dapprima un parentis
excidium, ossia l'uccisione di un congiunto in certi limiti di parentela, e che
poscia siasi esteso a significare l'uccisione di qualsiasi concittadino, anche
per quella specie di parentela, che viene ad esservi fra i cittadini di una me
desima città. Per verità, quando così fosse, il vocabolo di parrici dium
avrebbe avuto fin dapprincipio una significazione, che non cor risponde alla
parola, in quanto che, come nota il Voigt stesso, nella precisione primitiva
del linguaggio, per indicare l'uccisione di un congiunto, si sarebbe adoperata
piuttosto l'espressione di parentici dium, che non quella di parricidium, in
cui compare evidente l'idea dell'uccisione di un padre (2 ). Lo stesso è a
dirsi dell'opinione, secondo cui parricidium avrebbe, nelle origini della
città, significato l'uccisione di un pater delle genti patrizie, e solo più
tardi sarebbesi estesa all'uccisione di ogni uomo libero. Questa opinione,
sostenuta con logica ed erudizione dal Brüner, sarebbe di tutte la più
probabile, e quella che meglio spiega i passi a noi pervenuti, quando non
contrastasse colla testi monianza di Plutarco: singulare est, quod Romulus, cum
nullam in parricidas statuerit poenam, omne homicidium appellavit parricidium.
Qui infatti si direbbe, che Romolo fin dagli inizii (1) Lo scrittore latino,
che sembra far derivare l'antico parricidium dalla parità fra uccisore ed
ucciso, sarebbe ISIDORO, De orig., X, 225, il quale scrisse: « parri cidium et
homicidium, quocumque modo intelligi possunt, cum sint homines homi. nibus
pares »; ma qui è evidente, che l'autore non cerca di dare la vera origine del
vocabolo, ma solo di dare una spiegazione, che poteva apparire probabile
all'epoca sua. Del resto quest'opinione fu già combattuta dall'OSENBRUEGGEN,
Das altrömische parricidium. Kiel, 1841, pag. 59. (2) Cfr. Voigt. Op. cit., §
10, pag. 57, nota 130, in fine. 340 - della città avrebbe chiamato parricidium
ogni omicidio, e che quindi non vi sarebbe stato periodo di tempo, in cui, dopo
la for mazione della città, la parola fosse stata ristretta a significare
l'uccisione di un padre delle genti patrizie (1). 277. Resta ancora l'opinione
sostenuta fra gli altri dal Walter e dal Maynz, secondo cui parricidium e
perduellio sarebbero due espres sioni, usate promiscuamente, ad indicare i più
gravi misfatti, che si potessero commettere nella comunanza. Vero è, che
soventi nel lin guaggio primitivo presentansi di questi vocaboli sintetici, e
comprensivi, che più tardi vengono in certo modo suddividendosi in guisa da
espri mere solo più uno degli atteggiamenti, sotto cui presentasi il concetto
primitivo; ma qui la cosa non ha potuto accadere, poichè i due concetti si
svolgono in certo modo paralleli l'uno all'altro, ei due crimini sono
perseguiti da ufficiali diversi. Se si guarda poi all'ori gine dei due
vocaboli, anche questa viene ad essere completamente diversa; poichè, per
formare la figura del parricidium, si riguarda alla persona dell'offeso,
mentre, per formare invece quella della per duellio, si parte invece da quella
dell'offensore, ossia dal vocabolo di perduellis, che nelle origini significava
nemico. Nel parricidium si ha un'offesa contro un privato, che è sottratta alla
privata per secuzione, ed attribuita alla pubblica autorità; mentre nella per
duellio compare già personificata la stessa comunanza collettiva, la quale,
trovando nel proprio seno chi cerca di comprometterne la sicu. rezza, scorge in
esso una somiglianza coi nemici esterni della città, e perciò lo qualifica col
nome stesso, che darebbe al nemico, con cui trovisi in aperta ostilità. 278.
Ritengo invece, che anche queste due figure di crimini, che compariscono in
Roma primitiva, possano essere spiegate in modo assai più verosimile, quando si
tenga conto, che la città risulto dalla confederazione delle tribù, e che
percid, colla sua formazione, i con cetti, che già esistevano nelle tribù,
vennero a trapiantarsi nella città, colla differenza, che quei concetti, che
prima erano intergen tilizii, per cosi esprimersi, diventarono invece concetti
interqui ritarii, e ricevettero cosi una significazione diversa, per il diverso
punto di vista, sotto cui vennero ad essere considerati. Cid è provato (1)
PLUTARCO, Romulus, 22. - - - 341 - da questo che, appena Roma è fondata, già
presentansi formati così il concetto del parricidium, che quello della
perduellio; poichè il primo è già attribuito a Romolo, e l'altro a Tullo
Ostilio, ma durante il regno di questo già esiste formata la lex horrendi
criminis, rela tiva alla perduellio. Ciò significa, che queste due figure di
reati eransi già delineate nella stessa organizzazione gentilizia, e che il
parricidium significava l'uccisione di un padre, ossia del capo di una famiglia
o di una gente: la quale uccisione costituiva l'unico misfatto, che non
dipendesse dalla giurisdizione domestica, e che dovette per il primo essere
punito, perchè era origine diguerre private nelseno stesso della tribù e di
guerra fra le genti; e che la perduellio significava la nemicizia e l'ostilità
fra gente e gente (1). Fu quindi naturale dal momento, che i capi di famiglia
entrarono per confederazione nella medesima città, che il vocabolo parricidium
si trovasse natural mente portato a significare l'uccisione di chiunque
partecipasso alla comunanza, tanto più che i partecipi di essa dapprima erano
veri padri, e che la perduellio, mentre prima significava le ostilità fra le
genti, venisse ad indicare l'ostilità, che sorgeva nel seno stesso della città,
poichè i capi delle varie genti e famiglie ne erano di ventati i cittadini.
Allorchè poi fra i cittadininon furonvi solo più i capi di famiglia, ma anche
altri uomini liberi fu naturale e lo gico, che l'uccisione volontaria di
qualsiasi uomo libero rientrasse nella figura primitiva del parricidas. Viene
cosi ad essere natural mente spiegato ciò, che ci attesta Plutarco: che Romolo,
senza indurre pene contro i parricidiin senso stretto, abbia tuttavia chia mato
ogni omicidio parricidium: in quanto che quello, che era parri cidio nei
rapporti fra le varie famiglie e genti, venne ad essere uccisione di un
quirite, allorchè questi padri furono cittadini della medesima città; al modo
stesso, che il perduellis fra le varie genti venne ad essere il nemico
dell'intiera comunanza, nel seno della città. Solo potrebbe notarsi, che non si
deve ammettere una siffatta trasposizione di vocabolo da una significazione ad
un'altra: ma è facile il rispondere, che la trasposizione dapprima fu pressochè
in sensibile, perchè i primi quiriti erano veramente padri, e che simili
trasposizioni sono frequentissime presso i Romani, i quali, ogni qual volta
hanno formata una figura giuridica, non temono di traspor tarla da un caso ad
un altro; come lo dimostra il ius Latii, che (1) V. Festo, vº Hostis (Bruns,
Fontes, pag. 340). 342 trovato pei latini fu poi dai Romani applicato a popoli
ed a genti, che non avevano più nulla a fare con essi. Era poi naturale, che
quell'estendersi, che aveva luogo nella significazione del parricidium, a
misura che la figura del cittadino e quella dell'uomo libero si ve nivano
sostituendo a quella del padre, dovesse pure avverarsi quanto ai quaestores
parricidii, il cui compito si viene così allargando, finchè più tardi il
vocabolo apparisce disadatto, ed in allora sembra siansi sostituiti ai medesimi
i tres viri capitales (1). 279. Intanto però nulla potè impedire, che, accanto
alparricidium pubblicamente perseguito e che mutasi a poco a poco in homicidium,
potesse ancora sussistere la configurazione tradizionale del massimo dei
misfatti, che consiste nell'uccisione di un genitore, operata per mano di un
figlio o di una figlia. La sua stessa enormità ed infre quenza spiega come
negli esordii Romolo, al pari di Solone, non l'abbia contemplato: ma intanto,
se per avventura accadeva, veniva ad essere punito con pene tradizionali, che
cogli accessorii stessi, da cui erano accompagnate, cercavano di simboleggiare
l'enormezza del delitto. Fu soltanto allorchè questo triste misfatto diventò ab
bastanza frequente per la corruzione dei costumi, che la punizione di esso,
prima conservata nella tradizione e nel costume, penetro anche nella
legge, che dovette anche punire il parricidium in senso stretto, dandogli
tuttavia una significazione più larga, comprenden dovi cioè qualsiasi uccisione
di un parente o di un congiunto in certi confini di parentela, e a tal uopo far
rivivere l'antica pena tradizionale. Fu allora, che il vocabolo di parricidium
abban donò il semplice omicidio per venire ad indicare l'uccisione di un
parente e di un congiunto, il che appunto si fece colla legge Pom (1) Questa
trasformazione non è ammessa dal BRÜNER, Dissert. cit., 8 7. Parmi tuttavia,
che essa fosse una naturale conseguenza dell'estendersi della competenza dei
quaestores parricidië, e del processo seguito dai Romani nello svolgimento
delle proprie istituzioni. Essa poi sembrami anche una conseguenza della
diffinizione da taci da Festo: « quaestores parricidii, appellantur, qui
solebant creari causa rerum capitalium quaerendarum ». Non sarebbe poi qui il
caso di entrare nella questione, se i quaestores parricidii del periodo regio,
ed i questores aerarii della Repubblica possano avere la medesima origine: ma
ritengo, che questa identità di origine non abbia nulla di improbabile,
allorchè si tenga conto della primitiva indistinzione delle funzioni, che erano
talora affidate allo stesso magistrato. Cfr. al riguardo il Villems, Le droit
public romain, pag. 303, nota 3. - 343 peia de parricidiis. Tuttavia, per il
vocabolo di parricidium, alla significazione più ristretta, che esso viene ad
assumere, sopravvive ancora un'altra significazione, non compiutamente
giuridica, ma piut tosto oratoria, per cui parricidas viene ad essere chiamato
il tradi tore della patria, l'oltraggiatore dei templi, quegli insomma, che col
proprio delitto abbia violato uno di quei doveri, che hanno un ca rattere sacro
per l'umanità (1). 280. Solo più resta a spiegare il fatto, per cui un medesimo
de litto, quello cioè dell'Orazio, uccisore della propria sorella, abbia po
tuto essere qualificato come perduellio da Livio, e invece sia riguar dato qual
parricidium da Festo e da Dionisio. A questo propo sito è certo, che il fatto
dell'Orazio, quale ci è narrato dalla tradi zione, presentava un carattere
molto dubbioso. Da una parte eravi per certo l'uccisione di una persona libera,
e quindi occorrevano gli estremi della legge attribuita a Numa; ma dall'altra
l'uccisione era stata commessa, allorchè il popolo seguiva in massa l'Orazio
vinci tore, e l'uccisione, sempre secondo la tradizione, sarebbe stata da lui
inflitta, come pena contro coloro, che piangevano la morte di un nemico della
patria. L'Orazio in certo modo, fra gli applausi della vittoria, aveva usurpato
un ufficio, che al re, ed al popolo sarebbe spettato, e in quel momento aveva
operato, come un perduellis, come una persona, che si era posta al disopra
delle patrie leggi. È questo il motivo, per cui il popolo, che plaude il
vincitore, trascina tuttavia il ribelle davanti al re, ed è questi, che, in
base a quella distin zione fondamentale della primitiva procedura nel ius e nel
iudicium, viene ad essere chiamato a giudicare di qual misfatto si tratti. In
darno il padre dell'Orazio cerca di richiamare a sè la giurisdizione per
trattarsi di un misfatto, che erasi compiuto da un suo figlio contro una sua
figlia; qui il re ravvisa prevalere il carattere pubblico del misfatto, e
quindi ritiene trattarsi di perduellio e conchiude: « duum viros, qui Horatio
perduellionem iudicent, secundum legem facio ». Dura era la legge relativa al
perduelle, in quanto che, se condo i termini di essa, il condannato doveva
avere avvolto il capo, essere sospeso arbori infelici, e poi essere ucciso a
colpi di verghe, (1) Cfr. BRÜNER, Dissert. cit., $ 526. È poi CICERONE, che
parla di parricidium patriae, civium, e scrive: « sacrum, sacrove commendatum,
qui clepserit rapsitve parricida esto ». Cfr. CARRARA,Op. cit., § 1139. 344 «
intra pomoerium vel extra pomoerium ». Il tenore della legge era quindi tale,
che i duumviri dovettero condannarlo, e uno di essi già ordinava al littore «
colliga manus» quando l'Orazio propone appello al popolo, il quale l'assolve in
memoria del fatto compiuto, e sotto l'e sortazione del padre stesso, che viene
esclamando fra la folla, che la propria figlia era stata iure caesam. Tuttavia
l'Orazio, anche assolto, fu costretto a passare sotto il giogo, donde
l'erezione del tigillum sororium, e la sua gente, secondo Dionisio, dovette
anche offrire una piacularis hostia in base alla legge di Numa, che prevedeva
il caso di un omicidio commesso per imprudenza. Anche in ciò abbiamo un indizio
del dubbio, che si era presentato intorno al carattere del misfatto, poichè il
passare sotto il giogo era certo la pena, a cui era sottoposto il nemico vinto,
e il sacrifizio dell'ariete era imposto alla gente per causa dell'omicidio
involontario (1). 281. Tuttavia, a mio avviso, la ragione che rende più
verosimile la spiegazione premessa intorno alle origini del diritto criminale
in Roma, sta sopratutto in ciò, che in questa parte sarebbesi seguito quel
medesimo processo, che abbiamo potuto constatare in tutto il rimanente. I
concetti già elaborati nella tribù sono trapiantati dalla città, al modo stesso
che più tardi dalla città saranno portati ed estesi a tutto il mondo
conquistato, e per tal modo di concetti intergentilizii, diventano concetti
quiritarii, al modo stesso che più tardi i concetti quiritarii, ricevendo un
nuovo contenuto, di venteranno poi di nuovo universali e comuni a tutte le
genti. (1) A questo proposito tolgo dal Bongai, Storia di Roma. I, pag. 132,
nota 1, una citazione dello SCHOEMANN, che sembra confermare l'opinione qui
sostenuta: « Horatium, quum supplicium de sorore indemnata sumpsisset, eaque
caede et ius regis ac populi imminuisset, visum esse adversus ipsam rempublicam
adeo deliquisse, ut perduellionis, non modo parricidii, teneretur ». Osserverò
poi per mio conto la singolarità del fatto, per cui il perduelle, considerato
come nemico interno, viene ad essere assoggettato alla pena stessa del nemico
esterno, cioè fatto passare sotto il giogo, quasi in segno di sottomissione
forzata alle leggidella patria; altra prova, che non solo si tolse
dall'ostilità esterna la figura della perduellio, ma in parte anche la pena,
con cui essa era punita. Insomma perduellis significava il nemico nei rap porti
fra le varie genti; ma quando i membri delle genti diventarono cittadini della
stessa comunanza, diventò il nemico interno della medesima, e il nemico esterno
si chiamò hostis. 345 Intanto anche in questa parte il parricidium e la
perduellio sono due nozioni, il cui contenuto non è ancora ben determinato, ma
al pari di tutti i primitivi concetti quiritarii appariscono come due co
struzioni logiche, che si verranno svolgendo col tempo. Di qui con seguita, che
il parricidium finirà per allargarsi per modo da com prendere tutte le offese
contro il libero cittadino, che giungono a produrre la morte di lui: mentre la
perduellio finirà per compren dere tutti i reati contro lo Stato, e quando
questo si concentrerà nella persona dell'imperatore si cambierà nel crimen
lesae maie statis. È quindi fino da quest'epoca, che comincia ad apparire la di
stinzione fra il reato comune e il reato politico; ed è fin d'allora, che si
sente l'opportunità di lasciare una parte al popolo nel giu dizio dei reati
politici propriamente detti. L'uno e l'altro nel loro comparire sono come la
sintesi dei reati pubblici, dopo i quali verranno poi anche ad essere repressi
i delitti privati: la qual distin zione, iniziata da Servio Tullio, diventerà
poi fondamentale nella legislazione decemvirale. Intanto le cose premesse
bastano per dimostrare in qual modo siasi effettuata la formazione di una
giurisdizione e di un diritto criminale in Roma primitiva. La giurisdizione
criminale fu il risul tato di una sottrazione lenta e graduata, che l'autorità
pubblica venne facendo alla giurisdizione domestica e patriarcale; e i primi
pubblici delitti furono due figure di misfatti, che già preesistevano
nell'organizzazione gentilizia, le quali, sebbene continuino ad essere indicate
cogli stessi vocaboli, assumono però una significazione di versa. Di più anche
nella primitiva concezione del delitto in Roma occorre quella potenza
sintetica, che già abbiamo riscontrata nei concetti fondamentali della
costituzione politica, e che apparirà anche più evidente nei concetti primitivi
del diritto quiritario. Ciò indica che tanto il diritto pubblico e privato che
il diritto penale, allorchè appariscono in Roma, sono già il frutto di una
potente selezione ed elaborazione, fatta sui materiali somministrati
dall'anteriore orga uizzazione gentilizia. I concetti del diritto primitivo di
Roma sono altrettante sintesi potenti, in cui i fondatori della città cercano
di scegliere e di con densare ciò, che hanno appreso nel periodo precedente.
Ora più non ci resta che ad esaminare le condizioni della plebe cosi in tema di
diritto pubblico, che di diritto privato. La condizione dei clienti e della
plebe in Roma prima della costituzione Serviana. 282. Le cose premesse
dimostrano ad evidenza, che tutta la primitiva costituzione politica di Roma, e
quella legislazione, che dalla tradizione è attribuita ai primi cinque re,
debbono ritenersi di origine esclusivamente patrizia, in quanto che si riducono
in so stanza a concetti già elaborati nel periodo gentilizio, i quali, trapian
tati nella città, vengono a ricevere un nuovo atteggiamento, ed a prendere una
nuova significazione nella medesima. Solo più rimane a determinarsi quale
potesse essere in questo periodo la condizione giuridica delle classi
inferiori, al qual pro posito importa di tenere assolutamente distinti i
clienti dalla plebe propriamente detta. 283. Per quello, che si riferisce ai
clienti, la loro posizione giu ridica, in questo primitivo stadio della città,
non viene ancora ad essere modificata, in quanto che essi continuano sempre ad
apparte nere più alla gente, che alla città: perciò essi, per quanto si può
ricavare da quella enumerazione dei diritti e degli obblighi fra patrono e
cliente, che ci fu trasmessa da Dionisio, continuano ad avere gli stessi
diritti e le medesime obbligazioni, che loro appar tenevano, durante il periodo
gentilizio (1). Essi quindi non hanno ancora una vera proprietà, ma continuano
a ricevere dalle genti degli assegni a titolo di precario sugli agri gentilizii;
ne pos sono parimenti far valere direttamente le proprie ragioni davanti al
magistrato della città, ma perciò debbono valersi della protezione e degli
uffici del patrono. Per maggior ragione non può ammettersi, che in questo primo
stadio essi possano intervenire nell'assemblea delle curie, comesostiene un
gran numero di autori (2 ). Le curie sono (1) Dion., II, 10. Cfr. quanto si
espose intorno alla clientela, nel Lib. I, Cap. III, § 3º, pag. 46 a 52. (2)
Tale è l'opinione del Willems, Le droit public romain, pag. 46 e seg. e del
PADELLETTI, Storia del diritto romano, pag. 48 e seg., nota 2. Il prof.
COGLIOLO nella sua nota nº d, pag. 50, non approva intieramente l'opinione del
Padelletti. 347 il sito di riunione pei quirites, per i gentiles, per i viri,
il cui potere è simboleggiato dalla lancia, e non possono in nessun modo essere
state aperte a quelli, che nell'organizzazione gentilizia trovinsi in
condizione subordinata, anche per il semplice motivo, che, quando così fosse
stato, il numero dei clienti, i quali avrebbero pur essi avuta parità di voto,
avrebbe di gran lunga soverchiato quello dei patroni. Pud darsi che in
occasione di guerra anche i gentilicii seguano il loro patrono, ma i medesimi
dipendono ancora più dal cenno di esso, di quello che dipendano direttamente
dallo Stato. Sarebbe in fatti strano ed incomprensibile, che quelli, che non
possono ancora stare in giudizio, potessero concorrere direttamente alla
elezione del re ed alla votazione delle leggi, e giudicare di coloro, che
abbiano interposto appello al popolo. Sarà soltanto la costituzione Serviana,
che, ponendo il censo a base della partecipazione ai ca richi civili e
militari, obbligherà i padri delle genti a fare conces sioni di terre in
proprietà ai propri clienti, per avere cosi un ap poggio nelle votazioni dei
comizii centuriati, ed è da quest'epoca che cominciano a sentirsi le lagnanze
dei plebei, perchè i padri appoggiati dai loro clienti riescono a dominare le
votazioni nei co mizii centuriati (1). In questo senso la costituzione Serviana
fu quella, che diede il gran colpo alla clientela, e con essa alla
organizzazione gentilizia, perchè da quel momento anche i padri furono tenuti a
fare concessioni di terre in proprietà ai proprii clienti, i quali acqui
starono così una indipendenza economica dai patroni, che fu anche il principio
della loro indipendenza politica; donde la conseguenza chemolti fra essi sono
poi venuti ad allargare anche le file della plebe e ad appoggiare le
pretensioni di essa. 284. Intanto peró la questione, la cui risoluzione è
assolutamente indispensabile per comprendere la storia politica e giuridica di
Roma primitiva, è quella relativa alla condizione giuridica della plebe sotto i
primi re, così sotto l'aspetto del diritto pubblico, che sotto quello del
diritto privato. Il grande avvenire della plebe romana rese per gli storici di
Roma assai difficile il comprendere, come quell'elemento, che ai tempi (1) Che
le lagnanze dei plebei contro i clienti, per la preponderanza, che essi re
cavano al patriziato, si riferiscano ai comizii centuriati, appare dal seguente
passo di Livo, II, 64: « irata plebs inesse consularibus comitiis noluit; per
patres, clien tesque patrum consules creati sunt Titus Quintius et P. Servilius
». 348 - loro era ormai divenuto il dominatore della piazza e del foro, po
tesse, nelle origini, essere affatto escluso dal suffragio. Ond'è che
essi, trovando ai loro tempi la plebe ammessa in parte agli stessi comizii
curiati, e compresa nel populus, e una parte di essa anche pervenuta alla
nobiltà potevano difficilmente riuscire colla mente loro a ricostruire quella
primitiva distinzione fra populus e plebes, che ormai era scomparsa. Essi
quindi parlarono nel loro racconto deglian tichi comizii curiati, come se essi
avessero compreso tutto il populus, quale allora era costituito, cioè
inchiudendovi anche la plebs. Tuttavia, malgrado quest'attestazione concorde,
dubitarono i critici moderni, e quelli sopratutto, che al pari del Vico e del
Niebhur, ave vano penetrato più profondamente l'indole e il carattere primitivo
della città patrizia. La loro opinione trovò favorevole accoglimento; ma in
questi ultimi tempi, essendosi dal Mommsen trovato, che vi fu un tempo, in cui
dei plebei furono elevati alla dignità di curiones maximi, sorse nuovamente il
dubbio, che la plebe abbia potuto essere am messa anche alle curie. Che anzi,
siccome mancava notizia di una legge, che avesse proclamata quest'ammessione,
vi furono anche degli autori, i quali, come il Paddelletti, giunsero a
sostenere, che questa ammessione dovesse risalire fino agli inizii della città.
Conviene però aggiungere, che gli autori, i quali direcente investigarono sulle
fonti le origini della città, come il Voigt, il Karlowa, il Bernöft, il
Pantaleoni, il Muirhead, il Gentile, ritornarono di nuovo al concetto di una
città esclusivamente patrizia, ed alla esclusione della plebe primitiva dal far
parte dell'assemblea delle curie (1). 285. Non è qui il caso di entrare in
discussioni erudite sull'argo (1) L'opinione sostenuta dal PADELLETTI è anche
seguita dal WILLEMS, Op. cit., pag. 47 e segg.; dal LANDUCCI, Storia del
diritto romano, pag. 357, nota nº 2; dal Peluam, Encyclop. Britann., vol. XX,
pº Rome (ancient), i quali però non entrano nella discussione degli argomenti
in pro e in contro. Quanto al PADELLETTI debbo far notare, che se la sua
autorità è grande quanto al periodo storico, non può dirsi altrettanto quanto
al periodo delle origini, e ciò perchè l'autore, fin dagli inizii dell'opera,
col suo solito fare reciso ed alieno dalle dubbiezze, afferma e che lo studio
delle origini può essere interessantissimo ed utile al mitologo ed allo
storico, ma è molto sterile per il giurisprudente » (pag. 4 ). Ciò spiega come
l'autore, essendosi accinto all'opera sua con un tale concetto dello studio
delle origini, sia caduto in gravi equivoci, ogniqualvolta toccò
quell'argomento, come può scorgersi quanto alle origini della famiglia, della
proprietà, dei delitti e delle pene, ed al sistema delle azioni. Nell'o pera
sua il diritto romano compare bello e formato, senza che si sappia, donde pro
ceda. Ciò comprese il suo annotatore Cogliolo, che intese a supplirvi colle
proprie note. 349 mento; mibasterà il dire, che se si tenga conto del processo,
che do minò la formazione della comunanza romana, è del tutto improbabile, che
la plebs abbia potuto essere ammessa, fin dagli inizii, alla civitas e quindi
anche alle curiae, le quali erano una ripartizione della me desima. I
cambiamenti sono troppo lenti nelle organizzazioni primitive, perchè un
elemento, che trovavasi in una condizione del tutto infe riore, potesse di un
tratto, e fin dal tempo, in cui era ancora debole e privo di qualsiasi
organizzazione, essere ammesso a far parte di una nuova consociazione, sovra un
piede di uguaglianza, in guisa da entrare a far parte della civitas e della
curiae, le quali, oltre al l'essere corporazioni politiche, erano anche
corporazioni strette dal vincolo di una religione, chenon era ancora accomunata
alla plebe. È affatto improbabile, che quel gentile o patrizio, che è
sopratutto altero di poter indicare i suoi antenati, senza che alcuno fra essi
fosse mai stato servo nè cliente, potesse diun tratto accettare un voto del
tutto eguale con un plebeo, che poteva forse essere stato prima suo cliente o
suo servo, e che ad ognimodo era di un'origine diversa dalla sua, e non poteva
indicare i propri antenati. Ciò ripugna al modo di pen sare delle genti
primitive, che non conoscendo altro vincolo, che quello del sangue, dånno
sopratutto importanza alle discendenza ed alla nascita. Sarebbe strano, che
quei patrizii, i quali, allorchè più tardi accoglievano nuove genti, le
collocavano fra le gentes mi nores, potessero concepire un pareggiamento completo
del loro ordine colla moltitudine o folla, da cui si trovavano circondati.
Questa pa rità, secondo il modo di pensare dell'epoca, nè poteva essere am
messa dal patriziato, nè poteva essere chiesta dalla plebe, la quale trovavasi
ancora in condizione troppo umile per potervi aspirare; nè è a credersi, che il
patriziato primitivo, fondatore della città, volesse per generosità accordare
spontaneamente cid, che era ancora in condizione di negare, e che non concesse,
che quando vi fu compiutamente forzato. Ciò è tanto più improbabile, in quanto
che la curia, come abbiamo dimostrato a suo tempo, era chiamata eziandio a
deliberare sopra una quantità di affari, che si riferivano direttamente
all'organizzazione domestica e gentilizia loro esclusivamente propria; poichè
il quirite in questo periodo da una parte guarda ancora alla gente, da cui
esce, e dall'altra alla città, di cui entra a far parte. 286. Quanto al fatto,
che più tardi i plebei, almeno in parte, siano 350 anche stati ammessi alle
curie, esso può essere facilmente spie gato. La lunga convivenza nelle stesse
mura, e nello stesso esercito ravvicinò i due elementi; anche i plebei vennero
imitando l'or ganizzazione del patriziato; e non mancarono anche le famiglie,
che, pur essendo di origine plebea, poterono, per importanza politica, eco
nomica e per servigii resi alla repubblica, stare a fronte anche delle poche
famiglie, originariamente patrizie. Quindi al modo stesso, che più tardi anche
i patrizii poterono entrare a far parte dei comisii tributi; cosi non è
meraviglia, se anche la plebe, ormai ammessa agli onori, agli auspicii ed ai
sacerdozii, abbia potcui esce, e dall'altra alla città, di cui entra a far
parte. 286. Quanto al fatto, che più tardi i plebei, almeno in parte, siano 350
anche stati ammessi alle curie, esso può essere facilmente spie gato. La lunga
convivenza nelle stesse mura, e nello stesso esercito ravvicinò i due elementi;
anche i plebei vennero imitando l'or ganizzazione del patriziato; e non
mancarono anche le famiglie, che, pur essendo di origine plebea, poterono, per
importanza politica, eco nomica e per servigii resi alla repubblica, stare a
fronte anche delle poche famiglie, originariamente patrizie. Quindi al modo
stesso, che più tardi anche i patrizii poterono entrare a far parte dei comisii
tributi; cosi non è meraviglia, se anche la plebe, ormai ammessa agli onori,
agli auspicii ed ai sacerdozii, abbia potuto essere am messa anche alle curie,
la cui importanza non era più che religiosa. Un tal fatto venne certo ad essere
possibile più tardi; ma l'ammet terlo fin dagli inizii, è uno sconvolgere ed
invertire ilmodo di pensare dell'epoca e l'ordine degli avvenimenti.
Sarebbe infatti un fare co minciare l'unione del patriziato e della plebe dal
partecipare ad una stessa corporazione religiosa; mentre i fatti dimostrano,
che questa fu l'ultima parte delle loro tradizioni, che si decisero ad
accomunare alla plebe. Se quindi la plebe riuscì a penetrare nella civitas ciò
non dovette essere mediante le curiae, che avevano ancora un ca rattere religioso,
ed erano formate ex hominum generibus; ma bensi per mezzo delle classi e delle
centurie, che avevano piuttosto un carattere militare, e si fondavano sulla
proprietà e sul censo. Le cause, che cooperarono più tardi a ravvicinare i due
ordini, furono sopratutto i comuni pericoli, che obbligarono la città patrizia
ad arruolare nell'esercito i plebei, al modo stesso che dovette arruolare più
tardi anche i liberti; come pure vi cooperarono la proprietà, che fu pure
acquistata dalla plebe ed i conseguenti commerci, che ne deri varono fra essa e
il patriziato; ed è forse questo il motivo, per cui la costituzione Serviana
assunse dapprima un carattere militare ed eco nomico ad un tempo. Quanto al
fatto allegato dai sostenitori del l'opinione contraria, che il vocabolo
populus romanus quiritium abbia più tardi compresa eziandio la plebe, esso può
essere facilmente spiegato, in quanto non è questo il solo caso, in cui i
Romani, man tenendo la parola, ne mutassero il significato. Del resto il
vocabolo populus per Roma era una concezione e forma logica, al pari di tutte
le altre concezioni giuridiche e politiche; esso comprendeva l'uni versalità
dei cittadini, e quindi, come era naturale, che non com prendesse la plebe,
finchè questa non faceva parte della città, cosi doveva comprenderla, allorchè
essa, in base al censo, entrò a far parte delle classi e delle centurie
Serviane. 351 287. Ferma così la risoluzione delmaggior problema della storia
primitiva di Roma, solo resta a ricercare brevemente, quale potesse in questo
periodo essere la posizione della plebe in tema di diritto privato; il qual
compito ci è reso facile da ciò, che si venne fin qui ragionando. È noto, come
il ius quiritium, allorchè giunse al suo completo sviluppo, mentre in tema di
diritto pubblico comprendeva il ius suf fragii e il ius honorum, che entrambi,
a nostro avviso, furono dapprima negati alla plebe, in tema invece di diritto
privato si rias sumeva nel ius connubii e nel ius commercii. Quanto al primo di
questi diritti, abbiamo troppi argomenti nella storia per affermare con
certezza, che solo più tardi i plebei furono ammessi al ius connubii col
patriziato; il che però non significa, che essi non potessero contrarre fra
loro delle unionimatrimoniali, ma soltanto che queste unioni non potevano, di
fronte al patriziato, produrre gli effetti della iustae nuptiae. L'opinione
quindi, che suol essere comunemente accolta, è quella secondo cui la plebe
sarebbe in questo periodo stata ammessa al solo ius commercii (1). Così avrei
ritenuto ancioni non potevano, di fronte al patriziato, produrre gli effetti
della iustae nuptiae. L'opinione quindi, che suol essere comunemente accolta, è
quella secondo cui la plebe sarebbe in questo periodo stata ammessa al solo ius
commercii (1). Così avrei ritenuto anch'io nell'inizio di questo studio, e può
darsi che nel corso del libro cid apparisca in qualche parte; ma ora il
processo logico, che domind la formazione del diritto romano, in mancanza di
ogni informazione diretta, mi conduce ad affermare, che non dovette essere il
ius commercii, che la città patrizia riconobbe alla plebe circostante, ma bensì
il ius neximancipiique, il quale, come si è veduto più sopra, è quello stesso
diritto, che Roma, dopo es sersi incorporata la primitiva plebe, ebbe ad
accordare alle altre popolazioni circostanti, che vengono sotto il nome di
forcti ac sa crates. Anche il concetto di commercium, nella larga
significazione che ebbe pei Romani, in guisa da comprendere il diritto di
comprare e di vendere, di obbligarsi e di fare testamento ex iure quiritium,
suppone una certa parità di condizione fra le persone, fra cui in tercede.
Siccome quindi le genti patrizie erano per modo organizzate da provedere
compiutamente ai loro bisogni: così non poteva dap prima essere il caso, che
riconoscessero ad una classe inferiore un ius commercii, sopra un piede di
eguaglianza, ma loro dovettero riconoscere soltanto il diritto del mancipium,
ossia quello di avere una proprietà, che poteva essere alienata, e il ius nexi,
ossia il di (1) Tale è, ad esempio, l'opinione del LANGE, Histoir. intér. de
Rome, I, pag. 61. 352 ritto di potersi obbligare, mediante il nexum. Le
conseguenze pra: tiche nella sostanza potevano essere le stesse; ma intanto la
supe riorità delle genti e il vassallaggio della plebe venivano ad essere
riconosciute. Ed è questo il motivo, che allorquando la plebe fu ammessa nella
città, il nexum ed il mancipium, come accadde anche in tutto il resto,
cessarono di significare dei rapporti fra le genti patrizie e la plebe, che le
circondava, per diventare rapporti interni, e costituirono cosi i primi
concetti quiritarii, comuni alle due classi. Più tardi però, anche questi
vocaboli, che ricordavano una disugua glianza di condizione fra le due classi,
apparvero disadatti, e nella successiva elaborazione del diritto quiritario
furono sostituiti da altri (1). Non può dirsi pertanto, che in questo periodo
siasi già cominciata l'elaborazione di un vero ius civile, ispirato ad un
concetto di ugua glianza fra patriziato e plebe, ma continua sempre ad esistere
un diritto proprio delle genti patrizie, che parteciparono alla formazione
della città, e che costituisce il primitivo ius quiritium; ed un di ritto che
governa i rapporti fra la città patrizia e la plebe, che la circonda, il quale
si risente ancora delle condizioni disuguali, in cui essi si trovano. È questo
il motivo, per cui la plebe nelle proprie tradizioni fece sempre rimontare la
sua esistenza giuridica alla costi tuzione Serviana; colla quale lo sviluppo
del diritto pubblico e privato di Roma prende un indirizzo del tutto peculiare,
che influi potente mente su tutto lo svolgimento, che ebbe ad avverarsi più
tardi, e merita perciò di essere particolarmente e profondamente studiato. (1)
Non mi trattengo più a lungo su questo punto, perchè ho già dovuto accen narvi
nel Lib. I, Cap. X, nº 160, pag. 193 e seg., e perchè la prova delle cose qui
enunziate apparirà anche più evidente, quando si tratterà della costituzione
Ser viana e della sua influenza sul diritto privato di Roma. Colla venuta dei Tarquinii
a Roma, si inizia nella medesima una trasformazione profonda, la quale potè in
parte essere travisata dalle tradizioni e dalle leggende, ed anche dissimulata
dall'amor patrio degli storici latini, ma i cui principali tratti si possono di
scernere nelle serie degli avvenimenti e dei fatti, di cui ci fu con servata
memoria. Fino a quell'epoca, delle varie stirpi, che erano concorse a co
stituire la città, avevano sempre avuta una incontrastabile prevalenza le
latine e le sabine, fra le quali erasi venuto alternando il ma gistrato supremo;
mentre i Luceres non avevano somministrato alcun re, nè forse avevano avuto
nella formazione dei primitivi sacerdozii. Or bene, regnando Anco Marzio, di
origine latina, la gente Tarquinia, di origine etrusca, ricca di capitali e
numerosa per clientele, viene a porre la propria sede in Roma, per conseguirvi
quello stato, che le era conteso nel luogo nativo (Tarquinia ). Il capo di essa
è uomo abile ed intraprendente, e dopo aver consi gliato in vita Anco Marzio,
ne guadagna per modo la fiducia, da diventare dopo la sua morte tutore dei
figli di lui, o ottiene in breve colle sue ricchezze e collo splendore della
propria vita tale un seguito, da essere assunto al trono, mediante il suffragio
del G. Carle, Le origini del diritto di Roma. 23 354 popolo e coll'autorità dei
padri: « eum, scrive Livio, ingenti con sensu populus romanus regnare iussit »
(1). Nè sembra essere il caso di supporre col dottissimo OldofredoMüller, che
questa immigrazione di genti etrusche corrisponda alla supre mazia, che la
città di Tarquinia avrebbe conquistata su Roma, su premazia, che gli storici
latini avrebbero cercato di dissimulare (2 ): poichè le nuove genti appariscono
in concordia con tutti gli ordini della città, e il capo di esse, chiamato con
tutte le formalità al trono, raccoglie in effetto tutte le sue cure sulla
patria novella, e l'arricchisce di pubblici edifizii, che allo splendore delle
costruzioni greche ed etrusche sembrano associare quel carattere di grandiosità
e di forza, che è proprio delle costruzioni latine. Sembra quindi più
verosimile, che alcune fra le città etrusche in quell'epoca fossero pervenute a
quel periodo di crisi, che occorre eziandio nelle città greche, durante il
quale, sorgendo lotta di superiorità e di predo minio fra i capi delle grandi
famiglie, vengono ad esservene di quelle, che sono forzate a cercare altrove
miglior sorte e fortuna. Per un tale intento offerivasi opportuna la città di
Roma, la quale in quel periodo di tempo era ancora disposta ad accogliere nuove
genti nei proprii quadri, e mentre da una parte, per la fortezza già
sperimentata dei proprii abitanti, poteva aspirare ad un grande avvenire,
dall'altra aveva ancora molto ad apprendere, sia quanto allo splendore dei
pubblici edifizii, sia quanto all'ordinamento mi litare e civile. Di più essa
già conteneva nel proprio seno delle genti di origine etrusca, cosicchè la
nuova immigrazione poteva avervi parentele ed aderenze, che spiegano l'appoggio
e il seguito, che vi trovarono in breve la gente Tarquinia e il proprio capo
(3). 289. Questo è certo ad ogni modo, che in Roma si manifestano ben tosto i
segni di una trasformazione potente. - Infatti, secondo la tradizione, la sua
popolazione viene ad essere come raddoppiata, ed il nuovo elemento sembra dare
alla città un indirizzo mercantile, come lo dimostra il fatto, che dopo la
dominazione dei Tarquinii (1) Liv., 1, 34; Dion., IV, 2. (2 ) Müller O., Die
Etrusker. Cfr. PANTALEONI, Storia civile e costituz.di Roma, pag. 134, ove si
impugna appunto l'opinione del Müller. (3) L'opinione qui accettata è conforme
a quella, che ho cercato didimostrare più sopra, relativamente agli aumenti nel
numero dei senatori. Lib. II, cap. II, § 5, nn. 212 e 213, pag. 258 e segg. 355
Roma è già in condizione di conchiudere, anche come rappresen tante del Lazio,
un trattato di navigazione con Cartagine (1). Mentre poi fino a quell'epoca
Roma aveva ancor sempre conser vato il suo carattere primitivo di federazione
fra diverse comunanze, con Tarquinio invece sembra iniziarsi il periodo, che
potrebbe chia marsi di incorporazione. Narra infatti Livio, che Tarquinio
avrebbe distribuito spazi intorno al foro, accið i privati vi potessero
costruire le proprie abitazioni, e che in lui era già sorto il pensiero di cin
gere la città di mura, adottando così il tipo delle città etrusche, le quali,
essendo dedite ai commerci, solevano chiudersi e fortificarsi nelle proprie
mura (2 ). A compir l'opera sarebbesi richiesto, che i quadri della città pri
mitiva fossero modificati, e che alle divisioni di carattere gentilizio se ne
sostituissero altre di carattere territoriale e locale. Cid secondo la
tradizione avrebbe pur tentato Tarquinio, quando non si fosse op posto il
patriziato per mezzo dell'augure sabino Atto Nevio, osser vando che la
primitiva città erasi fondata mediante gli auspicii, e che perciò i quadri di essa
consacrati dalla religione dovevano essere mantenuti (3). Non vi fu quindi
altro mezzo che di fare entrare il nuovo elemento nei quadri antichi, il che
Tarquinio avrebbe cercato di conseguire: lº aggiungendo alle centurie dei
cavalieri, altre centurie, che serbarono il nome antico, ma presero la deno
minazione di Ramnenses, Titienses, e Luceres secundi; 2º ac crescendo il senato
di cento nuovi senatori, che si chiamarono patres minorum gentium; 3º
raddoppiando il numero dei pontefici e degli auguri, e destinando anche alla
custodia ed alla interpretazione dei libri sibillini i duoviri sacris faciundis,
i quali, portati poscia a dieci e più tardi a quindici, finirono per cambiarsi
in un collegio sacerdotale, che sovraintendeva și culti di provenienza
straniera (4 ). (1) La memoria di questo trattato di navigazione, conchiuso nel
primo anno della Repubblica, ci fu serbata da POLIBIO, III, 22, 24, il quale
l'avrebbe tradotto da un latino arcaico, che ai suoi tempi era già diventato
difficile a comprendersi. (2) Liv., I, 35, 36, 38. Egli anzi attribuisce a
Tarquinio di aver già intrapresa la cinta, che prese poi il nome di Serviana.
(3 ) Liv., I, 36; Dion., III, 70, 72. (4 ) Dron., III, 67; IV, 62. L'istituzione
dei duoviri sacris faciundis ora è attri buita a Tarquinio Prisco ed ora a
Tarquinio il Superbo. Quanto allo svolgimento storico di questo collegio
sacerdotale è da vedersi il Bouché-LECLERCQ, Histoire de la divination, Paris,
1882, IV, pagg. 286-317, come pure il Manuel des institu tions romaines, Paris,
1886, pag. 545 e segg. 356 Intanto anche la religione subì l'influenza del
nuovo elemento, ma in proposito fu giustamente osservato, che la religione,
importata da questa immigrazione etrusca, non ha quel carattere misterioso ed
arcano, che vuole essere attribuito ai riti etruschi, ma si risente invece
dell'influenza greca, come lo prova la triade capitolina di Giove, Minerva e
Giunone (1); il che sembrerebbe confermare, che i Tarquinii, pur venendo da una
città etrusca, potessero remotamente provenire da una città greca, che secondo
la tradizione sarebbe stata Corinto (2 ). Della plebe quasi non si occupa la
tradizione; ma si può affer mare con certezza che come le immigrazioni latine
avevano ac cresciuta la plebe rurale, dedita alla coltura delle terre, così
quella etrusca dovette trascinare con sè un grande numero di artieri, di
commercianti, di uomini esperti nell'arte della costruzione, che con corse ad
accrescere la plebe urbana (3). Intanto si accrebbero i mo tivi di
ravvicinamento fra patriziato e plebe, poichè la plebe del con tado era
divenuta un elemento indispensabile per rafforzare l'esercito, e la
cooperazione della plebe urbana era anch'essa necessaria per compiere quelle
opere pubbliche grandiose, che sono la caratteri stica di questo periodo della
storia di Roma, e che erano natural mente richieste dall'ingrandirsi della
città e dal nuovo indirizzo preso dalla medesima. 290. Le cose quindi erano
venute a tale, che coll'ampliarsi della città, anche i quadri del populus
dovevano essere allargati in guisa da potervi comprendere quella parte della
plebe, che ormai per venuta a qualche agiatezza, ed affezionata al suolo da
esso col tivato, poteva avere interesse all'incremento e alla difesa della
città. Fu questa l'opera, che la tradizione ha attribuito a Servio Tullio;
altro re, che appare come trasfigurato dalla leggenda, la quale probabilmente
ha finito anche qui per attribuire all'opera di un solo ciò che ha dovuto
essere l'effetto del concorso di varii elementi, e delle nuove energie e forze
operose, che vennero a (1) Questa osservazione è del PANTALEONI, op. cit., p.
149. (2) È noto che, secondo Livio I, 34, Tarquinio Prisco, pur provenendo
diretta mente da Tarquinia, sarebbe tuttavia figlio di un Demarato Corinzio. (3
) Quanto all'incremento della plebe sotto il regno del primo Tarquinio, è da ve
dersi Herzog, Geschichte und System der römischen Staatsverfassung. Leipzig,
1884, I, pag. 32 e segg. 357 scaturire dal nuovo stato di cose e dal nuovo
indirizzo, che veniva prendendo la città di Roma. È dubbia la origine di Servio
Tullio: mentre la tradizione latina, unitamente al carattere della sua riforma,
che appare più una evoluzione che una rivoluzione, lo la scierebbero credere di
origine latina, una tradizione invece, che vigeva presso gli Etruschi, e che ci
fu conservata dall'imperatore Claudio nel preambolo ad un senatusconsulto, lo
direbbe di origine etrusca, e gli attribuirebbe il nome di Mastarna (1). Tutta
l'antichità ad ognimodo è concorde nel riconoscere l'impor tanza della sua
costituzione, poichè è certo che, debbasi ciò attribuire alla sapienza del
principe autore di essa, o alla tenacità del popolo che ebbe a svolgerla, essa
corrisponde a un graduato sviluppo e segna comeun nuovo stadio nella formazione
della città. Essa chiude il pe riodo esclusivamente patrizio, in cui domina
ancora la discendenza e la nascita, ed inizia quello patrizio -plebeo, in cui i
due ordini, dopo essere entrati a far parte del medesimo popolo, sulla base del
censo, finiscono per avviarsi fra le lotte ed i dissidii al pareggia mento
giuridico e politico. Può darsi, che anche altre città abbiano avuta una
costituzione analoga, come, ad esempio, Atene per opera di Solone (2 ); ma non
ve ne ha certamente un'altra, che per la tenacità e la perseveranza degli
ordini, che si trovarono di fronte, abbia saputo ricavarne un più sicuro e
graduato sviluppo. Ben è vero, che anche per Roma vi fu un periodo, in cui
l'evo luzione è stata interrotta da un tentativo di tirannide; ma nel resi
stervi tutti gli ordini furono concordi, e il rimedio fu estremo, quello cioè
di cacciare dalla città l'elemento, che ne aveva poste a repen (1) L'oratio,
che precede il senatusconsulto Claudiano dell'anno 48 dell'êra vol gare de iure
honorum Gallis dando può vedersi nel Bkuns, Fontes, ed. V, p. 177. Ivi
l'erudito imperatore, volendo accogliere nel senato anche dei Galli, fa la
storia degli elementi, che Roma avrebbe assorbito nei suoi varii stadii, e
trova così occa sione di accennare alle due tradizioni relative a Servio
Tullio, di cui una lo farebbe nascere da una prigioniera di nome Ocresia,
mentre l'altra lo direbbe di origine etrusca. Le diverse opinioni degli eruditi
sulla fede, che merita il racconto di Claudio, e la conferma indiretta, che
esso avrebbe ricevuto da alcune recenti scoperte archeologiche, sono riportate
dal Bonghs, Storia di Roma, I, pag. 201, nota 14. (2) Quanto alle analogie fra
la costituzione di Solone e quella Serviana e fra le condizioni storiche, che
poterono determinare l'una e l'altra, è sempre a consultarsi il GROTE, Histoire
de la Grèce. Trad. De Sadous, Paris, 1865, tome IV, chap. 4me, pag. 137 a 216,
come pure l'appendice allo stesso capitolo, in cui discorre della con dizione
dei nexi e degli addicti in Roma antica. - 358 al taglio le libere istituzioni,
malgrado le difficoltà gravissime, in cui venne allora a trovarsi la città.
L'interruzione però non impedì che, superata la crisi, lo svolgimento storico
fosse ripreso punto stesso, a cui erasi arrestato, cosicchè lo spirito della
costituzione serviana pervade non solo l'elaborazione del diritto pubblico, ma
ancora quella del privato. Fu il non averne tenuto conto sufficiente che, a mio
avviso, ha impedito di dare una spiegazione plausibile dei più singolari
caratteri del diritto primitivo di Roma. § 2. – Il concetto ispiratore della
riforma Serviana eimezzi che servirono ad attuarla. 291. Fu abbastanza
dimostrato, che la formazione della città pri mitiva non è un'opera di semplice
agglomerazione, che piglia i ma teriali quali si presentano e li amalgama
confusamente insieme; ma un'opera di selezione, che solo li accetta in quanto
entrano nel suo ordinamento simmetrico e coerente; donde la conseguenza, che se
un mutamento si introduce in una parte essenziale di essa, questo deve pur
riflettersi e riverberarsi nelle altre parti. Ciò apparve nella città patrizia,
e appare ugualmente nella costituzione serviana. Il problema era quello di
unire due popolazioni, che si trovavano, come si è veduto, in condizioni
sociali compiutamente diverse, e di farle entrare a far parte della stessa
comunanza civile, politica e militare. Il fonderle insieme era per il momento
impossibile, perchè la distanza fra di loro. era ancora troppo grande, e certi
istituti, come la religione e i connubii, erano ancora troppo gelosamente
custoditi per poter essere accomunati. Le sole istituzioni, comuni ai due
ordini, erano la proprietà e la famiglia, e il solo inte resse, che li aveva
condotti ad avvicinarsi, era quello di prov vedere insieme alla difesa di sè e
delle proprie terre. Queste sol tanto potevano essere le basi della loro
partecipazione alla medesima città: quindi è che la costituzione serviana,
sebbene allarghi le file del populus, comprendendovi un elemento, che era
escluso dalla città patrizia, finisce però per dare una base più ristretta alla
par tecipazione dei due ordini alla stessa comunanza civile e politica. Mentre
il popolo delle curie aveva comune l'elemento religioso, l'organizzazione
gentilizia, e il culto per le antiche tradizioni; il popolo invece, che esce
dalla costituzione di Servio, viene ad essere composto di capi di famiglia e di
proprietari di terre, che entrano 359 a far parte del medesimo esercito, e più
tardi anche della medesima assemblea, in base alla sola considerazione del
censo, e nell'intento esclusivo di provvedere alla difesa di quegli interessi,
che loro potevano essere comuni. La nuova comunanza pud in certo modo essere
paragonata ad una società, in cui ciascuno viene ad aver diritti ed
obbligazioni proporzionate al proprio censo, il quale viene così ad essere
considerato come una garanzia dell'interesse, che altri può avere all'avvenire
e alla grandezza della città (1). Il nuovo popolo pertanto non ha nulla a fare
colle curie dei patrizii, ai quali continuano ad essere riservati gli auspizii,
i sacerdozii, le magistrature e gli onori; ma viene ad assumere negli inizii
una organizzazione di carattere essenzialmente militare, in cui la parte
cipazione ai diritti e alle obbligazioni della cittadinanza sotto l'aspetto
militare, politico e tributario viene ad essere determinata esclusiva mente dal
censo. In apparenza quindi l'organizzazione per curie delle genti patrizie è
lasciata integra ed intatta; ma intanto a lato della medesima sorge un nucleo
novello, che per essere più numeroso e più forte finirà per richiamare in sè
ogni energia civile, politica e militare, lasciando col tempo alle curie la
sola custodia delle tradi zioni e dei culti gentilizii. 292. È questo il motivo,
per cui la costituzione serviana potè essere apprezzata in guisa compiutamente
diversa, anche dagli an tichi scrittori, i quali la descrivono, ora come
favorevole al patri ziato o almeno alle classi più elevate, ed ora invece come
favorevole alla plebe (2). Essa era tale, che da una parte doveva essere
accetta al patriziato, il quale, mentre riteneva ciò, che era esclusivamente
suo proprio, trovava poi più forte il proprio esercito, più ricco il proprio
erario, più ampia la città, di cui continuava ad avere le magistrature e gli
onori; dall'altra doveva anche essere gradita alla plebe, perchè essa, ancorchè
sulla base esclusiva del censo, veniva (1) Che questo fosse il concetto
informatore della costituzione serviana appare da Aulo Gellio, XVI, cap. 10, n
° 11, il quale dice espressamente che « res pecuniaque « familiaris obsidis
vicem pignorisque esse apud rempublicam videbatur, amorisque « in patriam fides
quaedam in ea, firmamentumque erat ». Il paragone poi della comunanza
quiritaria, in base alla costituzione serviana, ad una società di azionisti già
occorre nel NIEBHUR, Histoire romaine, II, p. 193. (2 ) Il diverso
apprezzamento,che gli antichi fecero della riforma serviana, apparisce da Cic.,
De rep., II, 22; Liv., 1, 42, 43; Dion., IV, 20. Cfr. in proposito il Bonghi,
op. cit., I, pag. 548 e segg. 360 ad acquistare una posizione giuridica, che
prima non aveva, ed è abbastanza noto, che quando trattasi di un'aggregazione
sociale, il passo più difficile è quello di potervi penetrare, poichè dopo la
forza stessa delle cose condurrà ad avervi una posizione adeguata al pro prio
valore. Questo è certo, per quanto appare dalla tradizione, che i due ordini
sembrano essere concordi nell'accettare la costituzione di Servio Tullio, per
guisa che ad opera compiuta gli riconoscono re golarmente quel potere, che
prima aveva esercitato più di fatto, che non di diritto; tantoque consensu,
quanto haud quisquam alius ante, rex est declaratus (1). Intanto la nuova
costituzione appare informata anche essa ad un unico concetto, che è quello di
dare a ciascuno nella città una parte proporzionata all'interesse, che egli può
avere per l'incremento della medesima: interesse, che si ritiene dover essere
misurato dal censo. Quest' unico concetto poi viene incarnandosi nel fatto con
mezzi e con istituzioni diverse, fra i quali sono sopratutto importanti e degni
di nota l'ampliamento delle mura, la ripartizione del territorio in tribù o
regioni locali, l'istituzione del censo e l'organizzazione del nuovo popolo in
classi ed in centurie; istituti questi, che abbozzati negli inizii da mano
maestra, dovranno poi ricevere dalla logica tenace del popolo romano tutto lo
sviluppo, di cui possono essere capaci. 293. Coll’ampliamento delle mura la
città, che prima riducevasi ad un complesso di edifizii, aventi pubblica
destinazione e riuniti in un piccolo spazio, a cui mettevano capo le varie
comunanze, viene a comprendere nella propria cerchia buona parte di tali
comunanze, le loro rispettive fortezze, ed una quantità grande di abitazioni
pri vate. Cresce così il nucleo della popolazione urbana di fronte a quella del
contado; il contatto fra il patriziato e la plebe diviene più intimo e
frequente, e la vita della città concorre così a dissol vere quell'ordinamento
per genti e per clientele, che forse sarebbesi mantenuto stazionario o almeno
più duraturo in seno alle comunanze di villaggio. La città intanto, chiusa e
fortificata nelle proprie mura, difesa da un esercito, il cui contingente viene
ad essere più volte moltiplicato, abitata da un popolo pressochè militarmente
organizzato, assume anch'essa un carattere più decisamente militare e apparisce
(1) Liv., I, 46. 361 paurosa ed imponente alle popolazioni vicine (1). Così
pure è da questo momento, che la vita fra le stesse mura conduce a mescolare e
a confondere il sangue delle varie stirpi, fino a che per mezzo di re ciproci
adattamenti finiranno tutte per concorrere a formare un or ganismo unico e
coerente (2). Quasi poi si direbbe, che i fondatori della nuova città abbiano
una certa consapevolezza dell'avvenire di essa; poichè il nuovo circuito
comprende non solo il Palatino, il Capitolino, il Quirinale, il Celio, il
Gianicolo, ma anche l'Esquilino e il Viminale, alcuni fra i quali sono ancora
spopolati (3 ); cosicchè il pomoerium della città non dovette più essere
ampliato, durante il periodo repubblicano, malgrado gli incrementi, che si
verificarono nella popolazione. A questo riguardo vuolsi però osservare, che
sebbene la città dal tipo latino sembri far passaggio al tipo etrusco, tuttavia
essa au menta bensi il suo nucleo centrale, ma serba ancor sempre i ca ratteri
primitivi della città latina. Infatti non tutta la sua popola zione viene ad
essere accolta nelle sue mura, ma buona parte di essa continua ad essere
dispersa per le campagne e fuori delle mura; cosicchè la città continua sempre
ad essere un centro di vita pub blica per popolazioni, che possono avere
altrove la propria resi denza. Cosi pure in tutta questa trasformazione punto
non parlasi di nuove ripartizioni di terre, se si eccettuano i soliti assegni,
che per consuetudine invalsa i re sogliono fare alla plebe; il che si gnifica
che le famiglie, le genti e le tribù dovettero continuare a ritenere le proprie
terre (4 ). 294. Intanto è evidente, che in una città cosi concepita diveniva
necessario, che all'antica distinzione fondata sull'origine e sulla discen (1 )
L'intento eminentemente militare della cinta serviana è dimostrato anche dal
fatto, che gli intelligenti delle cose militari ritengono che dall'orientamento
di essa si possa perfino argomentare alla situazione delle porte in essa
esistenti. V. BARAT TIERI, Sulle fortificazioni di Roma antica, « Nuova Antologia
», 1887, fascic. 10. (2 ) Questo concetto trovasi efficacemente espresso da
Floro nel passo citato al lib. I, cap. I, nº 10, pag. 10, nota 1. (3)
MIDDLETON, Ancient Rome, pag. 59 e segg. « L'ampliamento delle mura, scrive
NIEBIUR, fu il pensiero di un genio, che confidava nella eternità e negli alti
destini della città, e che aperse la via ai suoi futuri progressi o. Op. cit.,
II, 123. (4 ) Questi assegni fatti da Servio Tullio alla plebe sono attestati
da Livio, I, 46, più chiaramente ancora da Dionisio, IV, 9, allorchè scrive: «
agrum publicum di « visit civibus romanis, qui ob rei domesticae difficultates
aliis, mercedis causa, ser viebant ». e 362 denza si aggiungesse una nuova
ripartizione di carattere locale e ter ritoriale, la quale potesse anche essere
di base per constatare la po polazione, che vi avesse la propria residenza, e
per fissare il tributo, a cui dovesse essere soggetta (tributum ex censu ). Cid
si ottenne col ri partire il territorio in tribù o regioni locali, le quali si
suddivisero poi in rustiche ed urbane. Le urbane sono quattro e prendono
senz'altro il nome dalle località, e chiamansi così Suburana, Esquilina,
Collina e Palatina: mentre le rustiche continuano per la maggior parte a
prendere il nome dalle genti patrizie, quali sarebbero l'Emilia, la Cornelia,
la Fabia, la Galeria, l'Orazia, la Menenia, Papiria, Pollia, Sergia, Romilia,
Voturia, Voltinia, ed altre; solo eccettuata la tribù Crustumina, che sarebbe
stata la prima ad essere denominata dalla località. Cid indica che nel contado
continud la prevalenza delle genti, che vi tenevano le loro possessioni. Il
numero origi nario delle tribù rustiche non è ben noto, ed anzi, secondo alcuni
storici, fra i quali Livio, le tribù rustiche comparirebbero solo più tardi.
Questo è certo pero, che la ripartizione, anche del ter ritorio rustico, era
una conseguenza del concetto informatore della costituzione serviana, e che il
numero delle tribù, dopo le guerre a cui diede occasione la cacciata dei
Tarquinii, e forse per la diminuzione del territorio, che ne fu la conseguenza,
appare ri dotto a quello di venti. La cooptazione della gente Claudia
porto le tribù a vent'una, e da quel punto la storia ricorda tutte le date, in
cui la conquista di un nuovo territorio conduce alla for mazione di nuove tribù,
fino al numero di trentacinque, che poi si mantenne immutabile (1). Non è già
con ciò, che Roma non abbia fatte nuove concessioni di cittadinanza, ma i nuovi
cittadini si fecero rientrare nelle antiche tribù, le quali, dopo aver avuto
una base locale, si mutarono cosi in altrettanti quadri, a cui poterono essere (1)
Mentre Livio, I, 43 attribuisce a Servio Tullio soltanto la ripartizione della
città nelle quattro tribù urbane, Dionisio, IV, 15, invocando la testimonianza
di Fabio, gli attribuisce eziandio la divisione dell'agro in 26 tribù, cosicchè
il numero complessivo delle tribù sarebbe stato di 30. Di qui la difficoltà di spiegare
comemai queste tribù negli inizii della Repubblica fossero ridotte al numero di
20 soltanto. Anche oggidi la spiegazione più probabile sembra essere quella
data dal Niebhur, secondo cui l'ager romanus avrebbe sofferto la diminuzione di
varii pagi o tribus, in seguito alla guerra cogli Etruschi guidati da Porsena.
Op. cit., II, 154. Quanto all'epoca, in cui si vennero aggiungendo le altre
tribù fino al numero, che poi si mantenne, di 35, sono a vedersi il Willems, Le
droit public romain, pag. 34 e segg. e il Morlot, Institutions politiques de
Rome, Paris, 1886, p. 71 e segg. 363 ascritti tutti i cittadini romani, senza
tener conto della effettiva residenza dei medesimi (1). 295. Sopratutto poi il
concetto informatore di tutta la costitu zione serviana fu l'istituzione del
censo; poichè è in proporzione del censo, che vengono ad essere determinati i
diritti e gli obblighi dei cittadini. Vuolsi però aver presente, che nel censo
di Servio Tullio non intervengono tutti gli individui, ma solo i capi di fa
miglia, quelli cioè, che per non essere soggetti a potestà altrui possono
giuridicamente essere considerati come padri di famiglia, ancorchè in realtà
non siano tali. La dichiarazione poi del capo di famiglia deve essere duplice,
cioè comprendere tanto le persone quanto le cose, che da lui dipendono; donde
provenne la conse guenza, che in questo periodo le persone e le cose,
dipendenti dalla stessa potestà, si presentarono come un tutto indistinto, che
suol essere indicato coi vocaboli di familia o di mancipium. Il padre di
famiglia pertanto, o meglio colui, il quale, per non essere sog getto a potestà
altrui, ha diritto di contare per uno nel censo, deve dichiarare anzitutto, ex
animi sententia, il suo stato civile, cioè il suo nome, il prenome, il nome del
padre o del patrono, la tribù a cui trovasi ascritto, l'età, il nome della
moglie, il nome e l'età dei figli. Esso deve dichiarare eziandio il patrimonio,
che a lui ap partiene in proprio; non quello cioè, che appartenga alla sua
gente, ma quello che è collocato in suo capo, che gli appartiene ex iure
quiritium, che fa parte del suo mancipium, il quale in significa zione più
ristretta comprende appunto il complesso dei beni, che deb (1) È solo in questo
modo, che a parer mio si può risolvere la questione tanto agitata fra gli
autori se le tribù di Servio fossero divisioni di territorio, oppure di visioni
di persone. Non parmi poi che possa ammettersi l'opinione del NIEBHUR, secondo
cui le tribù dapprima non avrebbero compreso che i plebei, e solo dopo il
decemvirato avrebbero compreso anche i patrizii (Op. cit., IV, 16 ); poichè il
loro stesso nome derivato da quello di genti patrizie ed anche lo scopo della
ripartizione del territorio in tribù o sezioni dimostrano ad evidenza il
contrario. Che anzi, in base alla narrazione di Dionisio, IV, 15, il re Servio
non solo avrebbe diviso il ter ritorio in tribù, ma nei siti montani avrebbe
costrutto dei pagi, che dovevano ser vire come luogo di rifugio, e avrebbe
obbligato tutti quanti gli abitatori (omnes romanos) a consegnarsi nel censo «
addito et urbis tribu et agri pago, ubi singuli habitarent »; il che fa
credere, che le tribù rustiche serviane fossero un rimaneggia mento dei pagi,
che già prima esistevano nel territorio circostante a Roma. Cfr. il Morlot, op.
cit., pag. 57 e seg., ove espone le varie opinioni degli autori intorno al
carattere locale o personale delle tribù. 364 bono essere valutati nel censo.
Sarà poi in base a questo censo, che sarà designata la classe del popolo, a cui
deve appartenere, tanto per sè che per i figli, che abbiano raggiunta l'età di
diciasette anni, e verranno cosi ad essere determinati i suoi diritti e le sue
obbliga zioni sotto l'aspetto politico, militare e tributario ad un tempo (1 ).
296. Basta questa semplice indicazione per comprendere l'im mensa importanza,
che dovette, sopratutto negli esordii, esercitare una istituzione di questa
natura sopra il popolo forse più tenace che presenti la storia in quella che il
Jhering chiamerebbe la lotta per il diritto. Per la città serviana la
formazione del censo ha quella stessa importanza, che ha per una società di
carattere mercantile la determinazione del contributo, che altri deve arrecare
alla for mazione del capitale sociale, il quale contributo dovrà poi servire di
base per la ripartizione dei profitti e delle perdite. Essa costrinse a
considerare ogni individuo come un caput, il quale tanto vale quanto è il
numero dei figli e l'ammontare delle sostanze, in base a cui egli contribuisce
alla comunanza. In essa l'uomo non è solo contato, ma in certo modo è anche
pesato, e viene ad essere isolato da ogni altro suo rapporto, per essere
considerato esclusivamente sotto il punto di vista delle persone e delle
sostanze, che in lui vengono ad unificarsi. Vi ha di più, ed è che la
proprietà, che conta nel censo serviano, non è la proprietà gentilizia, che
apparteneva al solo pa triziato, ma è la proprietà famigliare e privata, che
era la sola, che fosse comune al patriziato ed alla plebe. Di qui la
conseguenza, che tutte le altre forme di proprietà vengono di un tratto ad
essere lasciate in disparte, cosicchè se le genti patrizie vorranno 284 ' e seg
(1) Quanto alle operazioni relative al censo cfr. WILLEMS, op. cit., pag. Per
me è sopratutto notabile la circostanza, che il capo di famiglia doveva
denun ziare persone e cose, che da lui dipendevano, poichè essa serve a
spiegare come i due vocaboli di familia e di mancipium potessero talvolta
scambiarsi fra di loro, e as sumessero una significazione così larga da
comprendere le persone le cose ad un tempo. Cid non accadeva già, perchè si
confondessero persone e cose, ma perchè le une e le altre apparivano nel censo
come dipendenti dalla stessa persona. Tale doppia consegna è attestata
espressamente da Dion.,. IV, 15, verso il fine. Parmi che in questo modo si
possano conciliare le due opinioni contrarie del MARQUARDT, Das privat leben
der Römer, pag. 2 e quella del Voigt, Die XII Tafeln, II, pagg. 6 e 83-84,
quanto alla significazione primitiva dei vocaboli manus, di mancipium e di
familia. Cfr. in proposito il Longo, La mancipatio, Firenze, 1887, pag. 5, nota
8, ed il BONFANTE, Res mancipi e nec mancipi, Roma 1888, pag. 100, nota 1. 365
avere nelle classi l'appoggio dei proprii clienti, dovranno dividere fra essi i
proprii agri gentilizii, e fare a ciascuno un'assegno di terra in proprietà
quiritaria, che valga a farli ammettere in una delle classi. Da questo momento
viene solo più ad essere questione di mancipium o di nec mancipium, perchè è
solo il primo, che conta nel censo di Servio Tullio, e se il medesimo non
giunga ad una certa misura, altri non potrà essere censito, che per il proprio
capo (capite census ), o verrà ad essere confinato nei proletarii, senza poter
far parte delle classi e delle centurie, in cui si raccoglie l'eletta del
popolo romano, ossia coloro (adsidui, locupletes) i quali avendo una terra di
loro proprietà esclusiva, si possono ritenere aver interesse alla difesa della
patria comune. Si comprende quindi l'affezione tenace, con cui il plebeo,
ammesso a questa condizione nella città, si attacca al proprio tugurio e al
campicello, che lo circonda, perchè è questo, che gli assicura una posizione
giuridica, militare, economica per sè e per i proprii figli, quando siano perve
nuti ai diciasette anni; il che spiega eziandio come il plebeo ami meglio di
vincolare se stesso e la propria figliuolanza col nexum, che di privarsi della
sua piccola terra. 297. Noi stentiamo naturalmente a ricostruire col pensiero
tutte le conseguenze, che una istituzione di questa natura può avere pro dotto
sovra un popolo, come il romano, in un momento storico, in cui la grande opera,
a cui si intendeva, era la formazione della ' città. Quando si pensi tuttavia,
che trattavasi di un popolo, il quale una volta ammesso un principio sapeva
trarne tutte le conseguenze di cui poteva essere capace, che possedeva una mirabile
potenza, che chiamerei di astrazione giuridica, la quale consiste nell'isolare
l'ele mento giuridico da tutti gli altri con cui trovasi intrecciato, e che
questo popolo fu costretto per secoli a misurare la propria posizione politica,
militare e tributaria attraverso il crogiuolo del censo, si pud in qualche modo
giungere a comprendere il punto di vista rigido ed esclusivo, a cui esso fu
costretto di collocarsi e le con seguenze, che possono esserne derivate nella
elaborazione del suo diritto. Ciò spiega intanto l'importanza immensa, che si
diede per tutto il periodo dalla repubblica alla istituzione del censo; le
cerimonie religiose, da cui esso era preceduto ed accompagnato; le cure, che
pose nel medesimo lo stesso Servio, il quale, secondo la tradizione, ebbe a
farlo per ben quattro volte; le pene gravissime, cioè la vendita al di là del
Tevere, da lui stabilite contro coloro, 366 che non si fossero fatti iscrivere
nel censo (incensi); l'opportunità, che si senti più tardi di creare talvolta
un dittatore per la sola for mazione del censo, e di affidare poscia la
formazione del censo ad una speciale magistratura (censura), a cui potevano
esservene delle altre superiori in imperio, manessuna che fosse superiore in
dignità. Ciò spiega infine la singolare evoluzione, che venne ad avere in Roma
il concetto del censo, il quale negli inizii comincia dall'essere una
valutazione, che potrebbe chiamarsi puramente economica dei singoli capi di
famiglia, e poi finisce per cambiarsi in una specie di valutazione politica e
morale di tutti i cittadini. Cid infatti è comprovato dalla trasformazione, che
accade nel censore, che isti tuito dapprima per la materiale formazione del
censo, reputata in degna delle cure dei consoli, finisce per acquistare tale un
potere, da eleggere senatori, fare la ricognizione dei cavalieri, imprimere
note di ignominia su chi venga meno al pubblico o al privato co stume, prendere
le persone da una classe per confinarle in un altra, e trasportare a suo
beneplacito tutta una classe di popola zione dalle tribù rustiche alle urbane o
viceversa, e ad essere cosi l'arbitro sovrano della cooperazione effettiva, che
i varii individui e le varie classi recano al benessere delle città. 298.
Infine è anche il censo, che serve di base alla classificazione del populus
nelle classi e nelle centurie. Non è già, come alcuni credettero, che coloro, i
quali non avevano un certo censo, non fossero contati ed iscritti a questa o a
quella tribù; ina essi vi erano iscritti solo nel capo (capite censi), oppure
nella classe dei proletarii, la quale secondo Aulo Gellio, « honestior
aliquanto et re et nomine quam capite censorum fuit ». Gli uni e gli altri non
facevano di regola parte dell'esercito, perché né la repubblica avrebbe avuto
garanzia dell'interesse, che essi avevano a combattere per essa, nè essi
avrebbero avuti i mezzi per far fronte alle spese per il proprio equipaggio.
Quelli invece, che giungevano ad un certo censo appartenevano agli adsidui, per
l'assiduità appunto a compiere il loro ufficio civile e politico (munus), sia
pagando le imposte (ab asse dando), sia ubbidendo alla leva, sia per la sede
fissa, ove po tevano essere cercati e dove avevano i loro possessi (locupletes)
(1). (1) Il criterio, che servì a distinguere i varii ordini di persone
indicati coi voca boli di capite censi, proletarii, adsilui e locupletes, si
può ricavare sopratutto da Aulo GELLIO, XVI, 10. È pure lo stesso Gellio, il
quale ci attesta che la proprietà 367 I vocaboli di classi e di centurie, ed
anche il luogo, ove si riu nirono i comizii centuriati (Campo Marzio ), il modo
di convocazione di essi (per cornicinem ), e il vessillo rosso inalberato sul
Gianicolo o in arce durante le riunioni di questi comizii, rendono verosimile
il concetto stato svolto sopratutto dal Mommsen, che questa riparti zione siasi
presentata dapprima con un carattere principalmente militare. Cið poteva anche
essere opportuno per ovviare a quella opposizione del patriziato e degli
auguri, che aveva incontrato l'an tecessore di Servio; e sembra anche
corrispondere all'intento, che si propone la comunanza serviana, che è quella
di provvedere so pratutto alla comune difesa. Egli è però certo, che se la
costituzione per classi e per centurie è negli inizii organizzata per guisa da
presentare l'aspetto di un esercito, essa è però in condizioni tali da
cambiarsi facilmente nell'assemblea di un popolo; perchè i suoi quadri possono
essere allargati in guisa da non comprendere solo un esercito, ma tutta la
popolazione di una città (1). 299. Ad ogni modo nel loro primo presentarsi le
classi e le centurie di Servio costituiscono un vero esercito, di cui venne ad
allargarsi la base, in quanto che nella sua composizione più non si ha riguardo
all'origine ed alla discendenza, ma unicamente al censo. Nelle sue file possono
essere compresi tutti i liberi abitanti del ter ritorio di Roma, distribuito
per quartieri o regioni, senza riguar tenuta in conto nel censo era quella
famigliare e privata, poichè egli parla di res, pecuniaque familiaris, e dice che
i proletarii si arrolavano nell'esercito solo in caso di necessità, e che i
capite censi vi furono solo arrolati da Mario nella guerra contro i Cimbri o in
quella contro 'Giugurta. Tutte queste distinzioni poi fondate sul censo
spiegano le espressioni di Livio, I, 42, che dice il censo « rem saluberrimam
tanto futuro imperio, e chiama Servio a conditorem omnis in civitatem
discriminis ordinumque, quibus inter gradus dignitatis fortunaeque aliquid
interlacet ». (1) Pur ammettendo col Mommsen, Hist. rom., I, cap. VI, e col
Peluam, v° Rome, « Encych. Britann.., XX, pag. 731 che lo ha seguito, che
l'ordinamento per classi e centurie, tanto più se posto a raffronto con quello
delle curie, avesse un carattere eminentemente militare, non parmituttavia, che
anche nei suoi inizii si possa escludere affatto la sua attitudine alle
funzioni civili. Ciò ripugna al carattere delle istitu zioni primitive, le
quali di regola hanno del civile e del militare ad un tempo, ed alla
circostanza, che mal si saprebbe comprendere comemaiuna base, come quella del
censo, non dovesse servire ad altro, che ad indicare il modo con cui le varie
classi aves sero ad equipaggiarsi. Del resto questo carattere esclusivamente
militare mal potrebbe conciliarsi con ciò che scrive Livio, I, 42: «tum classes
centuriasque, et hunc ordinem ex censu descripsit, vel paci decorum, vel bello
». 368 dare se essi entrino o non nelle antiche divisioni, e senza più tenere
conto delle formalità e delle cerimonie religiose proprie delle riunioni
esclusivamente patrizie. La sua unità è la centuria, che nominalmente dovrebbe
comprendere cento uomini; le centurie poi vengono ad essere aggruppate in
classi, che sono in numero di cinque, e che alcuni vorrebbero collocate
nell'ordine stesso della falange. Le centurie, che vengono prime, sono composte
dei più ricchi cittadini, che possono procacciarsi un completo equipaggio
indispen sabile per coloro, che primi debbono sostenere l'urto del nemico. Esse
in numero di 80 costituiscono la prima classe. Dopo vengono le centurie della
seconda e terza classe, in numero di 20 per ogni classe, le quali sono già meno
completamente armate, ma costituiscono con quelle della prima classe la
fanteria pesante. Ultime vengono le centurie della quarta e della quinta
classe, di cui quella composta di 30 e questa di 20 centurie, reclutate fra i
cittadini meno ab bienti, e che serviranno come fanteria leggiera. L'intiero
corpo degli uomini liberi è poi diviso in due parti eguali, cioè in un numero
eguale di centurie di seniores (da 47 ai 60 anni), che costituivano l'esercito
di riserva, ed un uguale numero di centurie di iuniores (dai 17 ai 46 anni) per
il servizio attivo. Ciascuno di questi corpi viene cosi ad essere
composto di 85 centurie (8500 uomini) ossia di due legioni di circa 4200
per ciascuna, che costituiva appunto la forza normale della legione consolare
durante la repubblica. In sieme colle legioni, ma non inchiuse con esse, vi
erano 2 centurie di fabbri e di legnaiuoli (fabri, tignuarii) e 2 di suonatori
di tromba e di corno (tibicines et cornicines ), circa le quali non vi è
accordo quanto alle classi a cui erano assegnate. Per quello poi che si
riferisce al censo richiesto per ciascuna classe, il medesimo ci pervenne
calcolato in assi, ma è probabile che nelle origini dovesse essere valutato in
iugeri (1). (1) È abbastanza noto, che il censo per la prima classe era di 100
mila assi, per la seconda di 75 mila, per la terza di 50 mila, e per la quinta
classe di 11,000 secondo Livio e di 12,500 secondo Dionisio; ma il difficile
sta in determinare, se negli inizii la fortuna dei cittadini non fosse
piuttosto valutata in iugera, e in de terminare qual fosse il valore dell'asse.
Il MOMMSEN afferma come fuori di ogni dubbio, che l'iscrizione alle varie
classi era dapprima determinata dal possesso delle terre, argomentando anche
dalle denominazioni di adsidui e locupletes. Hist. rom., chap. VI. Di recente
poi il Karlowa ha pur seguìta la stessa opinione e ha rite nuto che il iugerum
debba ritenersi rispondere a cinque mila assi, cosicchè il patri monio della
prima classe corrisponderebbe a 20 iugeri, quello della seconda a 15, 369
Intanto però in questa organizzazione militare del populus con tinuano a tenere
un posto distinto le centurie degli equites. Di queste 6 ritengono ancora i
vecchi nomi di Ramnenses, Titienses e Luceres primi et secundi, e sono ancora
composte esclusivamente di patrizii. Esse quindi stanno a parte, son
determinate dalla na scita, e costituiscono i sex suffragia; poichè è da esse
che si trae a sorte la centuria principium, quella cioè, che sarà chiamata a
votare per la prima nei comizii centuriati. Ad esse poi furono ag giunte da
Servio altre 12 centurie, le quali sono reclutate dai più ricchi ordini di
cittadini, sia patrizii che plebei (1 ). Da questi brevi cenni appare che, pur
ammettendo il carattere essenzialmente militare di questa organizzazione,
basterà però sop primere nella centuria il limite di 100, per togliere alla
medesima tutta la sua rigidezza militare, e per fare entrare nei suoi quadri
tutta la popolazione della città; trapasso, che non offrirà gravi diffi coltà
quando si consideri la facilità, che è propria delle organizzazioni primitive
di passare dalle funzioni militari alle civili, e il nessun scrupolo, che si
fecero i Romani di mantenere costantemente il vo cabolo antico, facendo anche
entrare in esso un contenuto diverso da quello, che sarebbe indicato dal
medesimo. Queste sono le istituzioni fondamentali di Servio; ora importa di
vedere lo svolgimento storico, che esse ebbero a ricevere e la con seguente
influenza che esercitarono sul diritto pubblico e privato di Roma. quello della
terza a 10, della quarta a 5 iugeri, e quello della quinta a 2 iugeri incirca,
ritenendo con Livio, che il censo della medesima ammontasse a soli 11,000 assi.
Röm. R.G., I, pag. 69-70. Sono a vedersi, quanto al valore dell'asse, il
WILLEMS, op. cit., pag. 58 e segg., dove son riassunte le diverse opinioni al
riguardo, e il Voigt, Die XII Tafeln, I, pag. 16 a 23. (1) Quanto agli equites
e ai loro rapporti coi primitivi celeres, richiamo volentieri i due recenti
lavori del BERTOLINI, I celeres e i7 tribunus celerum, Roma, 1888, e del
TAMAssia, I Celeres, Bologna, 1888. - Par ammettendo col primo che gli equites
non siano che uno svolgimento dei primitiviceleres (p. 31) e col secondo che i
celeres possano anche essere un ricordo di qualche istituzione, che occorre
presso tutti i popoli di origine Aria (p. 19), continuo però a ritenere, che
nell'ordinamento simmetrico della primitiva città patrizia vi fosse una
rispondenza fra i celeres, che costituivano la corte militare del Re primitivo
e il senato, che ne costituiva il consiglio, donde quella correlazione, che per
qualche tempo si mantenne fra gli aumenti nel senato e quello degli equites, e
la distinzione così del senato come degli equites in decuriae. V. sopra, nº
191, pag. 233 e 234. G. CARLE, Le origini del diritto di Roma. 24 - 370 -
CAPITOLO II. Influenza della costituzione Serviana sul diritto pubblico di
Roma. 300. L'influenza della costituzione Serviana sullo svolgimento, che
ebbero le istituzioni politiche di Roma, durante l'epoca repubbli cana, non può
essere posta in dubbio, e non mancano i lavori ché la posero in evidenza (1).
Ne ebbero consapevolezza anche i Romani, come lo provano le tradizioni, che
attribuirono a Servio Tullio di aver voluto abdicare per istituire due consoli
annui, e che fanno ricorrere i due primi consoli della repubblica ai
commentarii di Servio Tullio, per ricavarne le norme secondo cui dovevano adu
narsi i comizii per centurie (2). Le due tradizioni possono anche essere non
vere: ma dimostrano ad ogni modo in coloro, che le trovarono e le custodirono,
la persuasione, che la costituzione repubblicana metteva capo alle istituzioni
serviane, e che, appena superato il peri colo della tirannide, si dovette
riprenderne lo svolgimento al punto stesso, a cui era stato interrotto. Ad ogni
modo se si tenga dietro alla evoluzione storica, quale si rivela negli
avvenimenti, si può affermare con certezza, che le istituzioni politiche di
Roma per tutto il periodo repubblicano implicano uno svolgimento continuo e non
mai interrotto dei concetti informatori della costituzione patrizia, combinati
perd e modificati dalle istituzioni fondamentali della co stituzione serviana.
301. Fra queste modificazioni è fondamentale e determina tutte le altre
trasformazioni, che derivarono dalla costituzione serviana, quella, in virtù
della quale venne a mutarsi nella sua stessa base il concetto del populus
romanus quiritium. Questa espressione (1) NIEBHUR, Histoire romaine, II, pag.
91 a 255; Huscke, Die Verfassung der Königs Servius Tullius, Heidelberg, 1838;
Maury, Des événements qui portèrent Servius Tullius au trône. « Mém. de l'Acad.
des Inscript. et belles lettres », année 1866, vol. 25, pag. 107 a 223: Herzog,
Geschichte und System der römischen Staats verfassung, Leipzig, 1884, I, § 5,
pag. 37 a 48; KarlowA, Röm. Rechtsgeschichte, I, SS 11, 12, 13, pag. 64 a 85.
(2 ) Liv., Hist., I, 48; I, 60. È però a notarsi, che queste tradizioni non
sono con fermate da Dionisio. Cfr. Bonghi, Storia di Roma, I, pag. 242. - 371
infatti, che un tempo aveva indicato esclusivamente il popolo delle curie,
venne secondo il metodo romano ad essere trasportata al popolo delle classi e
delle centurie, come lo dimostrano la denomi nazione di quirites, che d'allora
in poi è applicata appunto a tutti i membri del popolo delle centurie, non che
ai testimonii ricavati dal medesimo per gli atti di carattere quiritario
(classici testes ), ed è anche adoperata nelle formole di convocazione dei
comizii centuriati, stateci conservate da Varrone (1). Quanto ai membri delle
curie pri mitive essi, in quanto entrano nelle classi e nelle centurie, sono
anche compresinel vocabolo generico di quirites, ma in quanto hanno delle
proprie assemblee, in quanto ritengono per sè le magistrature, gli onori, gli
auspizii, i sacerdozii, in quanto insomma formano ancora un nucleo separato del
populus romanus quiritium, prendono il nome di patres o di patricii, come già
si è veduto discorrendo della patrum au ctoritas, della lex curiata de imperio
e dell'interrex (2 ). Mentre quindi prima i termini non erano che due, quelli
cioè di populus e di plebes; dopo Servio i termini vengono ad essere tre, cioè
quello di patres o patricii, che indicano i primitivi fondatori della città, i
ritentori degli auspicia e dell'imperium; quello di plebes, che designa
l'elemento, stato di recente ammesso nella medesima; e quello infine di
populus, che comprende l'uno e l'altro elemento, sopratutto in quanto entra a
far parte delle classi e delle cen turie (3 ). In questo senso vuolsi ammettere
col Mommsen, che uno dei significati di populus sia stato quello di leva
plebeo-patrizia; ma certo non può dirsi, che questa sia stata la significazione
primi tiva del vocabolo; poichè nulla vi è di ripugnante al processo ro mano,
che la stessa parola abbia indicato prima la riunione degli (1) Le formole di
convocazione delle classi, conservateci da VARRONE, De ling. lat., VI, 86 a 95,
sono riportate dal Bruns, Fontes, pag. 383 e segg. I classici testes sono poi
ricordati da Festo, pº classici, come testimoni adoperati nei testa menti; ma è
probabile che questo nome si estendesse a tutti i testimonii dell'atto per aes
et libram, di cui il testamento non era che un'applicazione, come si vedrà a
suo tempo al cap. IV, § 4 di questo libro. (2) V. sopra, lib. II, nº 198, pag.
240 e seg. e le note relative. (3) È questo appunto il concetto di populus,
quale appare più tardi anche nei grammatici e nei giureconsulti. Aulo Gellio
infatti, Noct. Att., X, 20, attribuisce al giureconsulto Ateio Capitone di aver
distinto il popolo dalla plebe, « quoniam « in populo omnis pars civitatis,
omnesque eius ordines contineantur: plebes vera, ea < dicitur, in qua gentes
civium patriciae non insunt », il qual concetto poi ricompare in GaJo, Comm.,
I, 3 e ancora nelle stesse Institut. di GIUSTINIANO, I, 2. 372 uomini validi ed
armati della tribù gentilizia, poi il populus confe derato della città patrizia,
e da ultimo il popolo patrizio - plebeo della città serviana (1). Questo
populus intanto perde in gran parte quel carattere reli gioso e patriarcale del
popolo delle curie, e assume invece il ca rattere, che è proprio di coloro, che
entrano a costituirlo; viene cioè ad essere un popolo di capi di famiglia e di
proprietarii di terre, che da una parte sono uomini di arme e dall'altra sono
de diti alla coltura delle terre, e i quali si considerano come isolati da
tutti quei rapporti gentilizii, in cui possono trovarsi vincolati. I quiriti
dell'epoca serviana vengono ad essere considerati come indivi dualità
indipendenti e sovrane; hanno l'asta come simbolo del pro prio diritto;
ritengono come proprie le cose sopratutto che riescono a togliere al nemico, ed
il loro potere appare senza confine cosi rispetto alle persone, che alle cose,
che da essi dipendono; donde le caratteristiche peculiari del ius quiritium,
che viene formandosi in questo periodo, come cercherò di dimostrare a suo tempo
(2). 302. Modificato così il concetto del populus, cioè l'elemento es senziale
della costituzione primitiva, da cui escono tutti gli altri, era naturale, che
anche questi dovessero lentamente e gradatamente trasformarsi in correlazione
col medesimo. E così accade appunto del senato, il quale accompagnando lo
svolgimento lento e graduato della costituzione romana, comincia ad accogliere
fin dagli inizii della repubblica i principali dell'ordine equestre, i quali
per tal modo vengono ad essere conscripti coi patres, donde la formola patres
et conscripti, finchè più tardi esso viene a ricevere tutto l'elemento, che
siasi reso benemerito della repubblica, sostenendone degnamente le magistrature
e gli uffizii, o che abbia così quell'età e quell'esperienza, che valgono ad
assicurare la repubblica della au torità del suo consiglio (3 ). Cosi invece
non accadde del magistrato, poichè questo continud (1 ) MOMMSEN, Rötnische
Forschungen, I, pag. 168. (2 ) V. il cap. seg. in cui si discorre
dell'influenza della costituzione serviana sul diritto privato. (3 ) Le
trasformazioni introdotte nella composizione del Senato in base alla les Ovinia
che deferì ai censori la senatus lectio sono brevemente riassunte dal Lan
DUCCI, nel suo scritto sui Senatori Pedarië, Padova 1888, pagg. 7-8, colle note
re lative. - 373 ancora per qualche tempo ad essere ricavato esclusivamente
dalla classe dei patrizii; donde la conseguenza, che è sopratutto contro
l'imperio dei consoli, che spiegansi le prime sedizioni della plebe, le quali
più non si arrestano fino a che la plebe non abbia ottenuta, anche nelle
magistrature e nei sacerdozii, quella parte, che già aveva conseguita negli
altri aspetti della costituzione politica. Cið era na turale, perchè non vi
sarebbe stata coerenza in un organismo, in cui il popolo e il senato già
potevano essere tolti dai due ordini, che concorrevano a formarlo; mentre il
magistrato poteva essere scelto in un ordine soltanto e quindi veniva ad
apparire piuttosto come un custode dei privilegii del patriziato, che come un
rappresentante imparziale del popolo. Di qui la conseguenza, che anche le
lotte, che vennero ad esservi fra patriziato e plebe, possono in gran parte
ritenersi determinate dalla costituzione serviana, come meglio sarà dimostrato
a suo tempo (1 ). 303. Mentre si avverano queste modificazioni negli organi
essen ziali della costituzione politica, e quindi si trasformano a poco a poco
le loro principali funzioni, che, come si è veduto, consistono nella formazione
delle leggi, nella elezione del magistrato e nella amministrazione della
giustizia, tutte le istituzioni serviane, che negli inizii erano soltanto
abbozzate, vengono prendendo tutto quello svol gimento, di cui potevano essere
capaci. Cid appare quanto al censo, il quale, come già si è accennato,
incomincia dal presentarsi come una valutazione economica dei cit tadini, e poi
cambiasi a poco a poco in una valutazione politica e morale dei medesimi. Il
punto di partenza viene ad essere quello di dare a ciascun cittadino una parte
di diritti e di obblighi, che sia proporzionata al suo censo, mentre lo
svolgimento posteriore conduce a dare ai singoli individui e ai varii elementi
del popolo una parte, che vorrebbe essere proporzionata alla cooperazione, che
essi recano al pubblico bene. Abbiamo quindi i magistrati uscenti di ufficio,
che somministrano il contingente per la formazione del senato e poscia dell'ordo
senatorius; abbiamo gli equites, che perdono il carat tere essenzialmente
militare, che avevano nelle proprie origini, e finiscono per formare un ordine
distinto di cittadini, che chiamasi ordo equestris, e costituiscono una specie
di aristocrazia del censo, (1) V. il cap. IV del presente libro, in cui si
tratta appunto delle lotte fra il patriziato e la plebe. 374 da cui esce poi la
nuova nobiltà, la quale, dopo aver lottato coll'an tica, finisce per
confondersi con essa (1). Di qui la conseguenza, che col tempo quel populus,
che erasi formato, mediante la riunione del patriziato e della plebe, finirà
un'altra volta per subire un nuovo dualismo, che è quello del partito popolare
e del partito degli otti mati. Queste però sono conseguenze remote
dell'ordinamento ser viaño, fondato sul censo, mentre è assai più facile tener
dietro alle trasformazioni, che subirono le centurie e le tribù introdotte col
medesimo. 304. Le centurie infatti, allorchè perdettero il loro carattere es
senzialmente militare, finirono per cambiarsi in altrettanti quadri, in cui
potè essere compreso tutto il popolo romano, che avesse rag. giunto certi
limiti nel censo, il quale, fissato dapprima in iugeri di terra, sembra essersi
più tardi calcolato in una somma di denaro. Si formarono così quei comisii centuriati,
che ebbero tanta impor tanza sopratutto nei primi secoli della repubblica, e
che furono per certo una delle assemblee meglio organizzate, che offra la
storia politica dei popoli civili. È tuttavia notabile, che anche in questa
parte si conserva sempre mai l'antico modello, per guisa che i con cetti
informatori dell'assemblea delle centurie sembrano essere tolti e trasportati
da quella più antica delle curie. Anch'essi quindideb bono essere preceduti da
cerimonie religiose, ed il magistrato, che li convoca in giorni prestabiliti
(dies comitiales), essendo investito degli auspicia, debbe prima investigare se
gli dei si dimostrino fa vorevoli alle deliberazioni, che debbono essere prese
dai comizii. Anche la precedenza nella votazione deve seguire l'antico costume,
e quindi precedono le sei centurie di cavalieri, le uniche cioè che
rappresentino ancora il patriziato primitivo, fondatore della città; quindi è
fra esse, che chiamansi i sex suffragia, che viene tratta a sorte quella che
dovrà essere la centuria principium, il cui voto continua ad essere considerato
come un augurio (omen). Dopo aver così attribuita la debita parte alla nascita
e ai primi fondatori della città, viene il riguardo all'età, in quanto che i
seniores (dai 47 ai 60 anni) hanno in ogni classe un numero di centurie eguale
a quello dei iuniores (dai 17 ai 46 ), malgrado il numero certo maggiore di
questi ultimi, e le loro centurie negli inizii erano probabilmente le (1)
Queste trasformazioni sono accuratamente seguìte dal Madvig, L'État romain,
trad. Morel, Paris 1882, tome 1er, pag. 135 e segg. 375 prime chiamate a dare
il proprio voto. Viene poscia la considera zione del censo, in quanto che le
centurie, che votano per le prime sono, dopo le diciotto centurie degli
equites, quelle della prima classe e queste sono in numero tale, che se siano
concordi, possono da sole avere la maggioranza, senza che più occorra di
passare alla chia mata delle altre classi (1). Intanto perd nel seno di ogni
centuria ogni individuo ha il proprio voto, e tutti contano egualmente; ma,
come già accadeva nelle assemblee curiate, l'esito definitivo dipende dalla
maggioranza delle centurie. Qui parimenti si presentano le distinzioni fra
comitia e contiones; come pure dovette introdursi eziandio la distinzione fra
comizii propriamente detti e i comizii calati, in cui si compievano pei quiriti
i testamenti e le arroga sioni, ma questi non sembrano essere durati lungamente,
perchè erano una semplice imitazione dell'antico, senza che avessero lo scopo
dei comizii calati delle curie, che era quello di mantenere salda ed integra
anche nella città la primitiva organizzazione delle genti patrizie (2). Così
pure sopra i nuovi comizii, i padri, antichi fondatori della città, continuano
ad esercitare una specie di prote zione e di tutela, sotto il nome di patrum
auctoritas, dalla quale i comizii centuriati riescono ad emanciparsi soltanto
molto più tardi (3 ). 305. Nella realtà però questa imitazione dell'antico non
impe disce che tutte le principali funzioni vengano a concentrarsi nei co mizii
centuriati. Sono essi infatti che votano le leggi fondamentali dello stato,
come le leggi Valerie-Orazie, la legislazione decemvirale, le leggi Licinie
Sestie, e da ultimo la legge Ortensia; sono essi parimenti, che nominano i
magistrati maggiori, come i consoli, i pretori, i censori, quei magistrati
insomma, il cui potere può essere considerato come una suddivisione di
quell'imperium, che trovavasi un tempo con centrato nel re. Da ultimo fu
davanti alle centurie, che dovette essere interposta quella provocatio ad
populum, che un tempo pro ponevasi dinanzi al popolo delle curie; il che spiega
comeun ma (1) Sono queste gradazioni e distinzioni che fecero dire a CICERONE,
De leg., III, 19, 44: < descriptus enim populus censu, ordinibus, aetatibus
plus adhibet ad suf « fragium consilii, quam populus fuse in tribus convocatus
»; concetto che ripete con altre parole nel De rep., II, 22. (2) L'esistenza di
comizii calati, proprii delle centurie, è attestata espressamente da Aulo
Gellio, XV, 27, 1. (3) V. quanto alla patrum auctoritas ciò che si è detto al
nº 198, pag. 240 e segg. 376 gistrato annuo, come il console, abbia finito per
rinunziare a poco a poco a pronunziare condanne, da cui poteva esservi
appellazione al popolo, il quale venne cosi ad essere direttamente investito
della giurisdizione criminale (1). Intanto si comprende eziandio come la lotta
fra i due ordini, finchè non furono ancora del tutto pareggiati, abbia dovuto
concentrarsi so pratutto nei comizii centuriati, e come quindi il patriziato
per assi curarsi una prevalenza nel seno delle centurie, abbia dovuto dividere
i proprii agri gentilizii fra i clienti, acciò i medesimi potessero essere
collocati nelle classi e possibilmente nella prima di esse, la quale aveva una
prevalenza sopra tutte le altre. Per talmodo la disorganizzazione delle genti,
che erasi già iniziata colla costituzione di Servio, con tinud necessariamente
collo svolgersi delle istituzioni da lui intro dotte; poichè quei clienti, che
sotto l'impressione immediata del benefizio ricevuto stavano ancora agli ordini
dell'antico patrono, se ne emanciparono ben presto, allorchè il censo loro
assicurò una indipendenza, mediante cui poterono talvolta aggregarsi alla
stessa plebe. Conviene tuttavia riconoscere, che la plebe negli inizii del
l'organizzazione per centurie male poteva riuscire nella lotta contro un
patriziato reso forte e numeroso mediante l'appoggio dei proprii clienti. Di
qui la conseguenza, che la plebe resa impotente alla lotta nei comizii per
centurie, dovette appigliarsi a riunioni che non avessero più la loro base nel
censo, ma bensì nel luogo di residenza e nel numero. A tal uopo la plebe,
guidata ed organizzata dai proprii tribuni, seppe trarre profitto di un'altra
istituzione ser viana, che è quella della tribù locale, ricavando da essa uno
svolgi mento, che probabilmente non doveva essere nella intenzione di quegli,
che l'aveva istituita. 306. La tribù nella costituzione serviana non era che
una ripar tizione locale, fatta in uno scopo essenzialmente amministrativo,
cioè per fare il censo, per fare la leva militare e per ripartire i tributi.
Essa però aveva il vantaggio su tutte le altre ripartizioni, che mentre le
curie non comprendevano dapprima che i patrizii, e le centurie e le classi non
accoglievano che i locupletes od adsidui, le tribù invece comprendevano anche i
proletari, i capite censi, gli aerarii; quindi in essa esisteva un
germeessenzialmente democratico, (1) Cfr. ciò che si è detto più sopra intorno
alla provocatio ad populum nel pe riodo regio, n ° 245 e 246, pag. 299 e segg.
377 che non poteva mancare di svolgersi col tempo. Era infatti naturale, che i
tribuni della plebe, per radunare la medesima, non potessero indirizzarle il
proprio appello, che per tribù (tributim ), e che quindi si facessero già in
questa guisa quelle prime riunioni, che appellavansi concilia plebis. Intanto
le tribù, che avevano dapprima un carattere essenzialmente locale e
comprendevano realmente le persone, che dimoravano in quel determinato
quartiere, si cambiarono in effetto in altrettanti quadri, in cui poterono
essere compresi tutti i cittadini romani, senza tener conto del sito effettivo,
in cuiavessero la propria residenza. Si avverò anche in questo, ciò che è
accaduto in molte altre istituzioni di Roma, che cominciano dall'avere una base
reale nei fatti, ma col tempo si cambiano in concezioni teoriche ed astratte, e
in forme tipiche, in cui può farsi entrare un contenuto, che nella realtà loro
non potrebbe appartenere. Per tal guisa la ripartizione delle tribù diventò la
più comprensiva di tutte; cesso quasi di essere locale per diventare personale;
la indicazione della tribù entrò a far parte della denominazione stessa del
cittadino romano, e fu in tal modo, che essa potè riuscire di base alla più
democratica delle riunioni, che siasi conosciuta in Roma, che fu quella appunto
dei comizii tributi. Questi non hanno più il carattere militare dei co mizii
centuriati, ma hanno un'impronta essenzialmente cittadinesca; si tengono perciò
nel foro e nei primitempi si riuniscono nei giorni di mercato, in cui la plebe
del contado ha occasione di convenire nella città (1 ). 307. Tuttavia anche i
comizii per tribù, allorchè entrarono nei quadri regolari della costituzione
politica, finirono per modellarsi sulle assemblee precedenti. Essi infatti,
quando sono giunti al pieno loro sviluppo, sono anche preceduti dagli auspizii,
quando siano convocati da un magistrato, a cui questi appartengano, e sono
convocati solennemente dal medesimo, per mezzo degli araldi, in giorni, che non
saranno più chiamati comitiales, ma che debbono però essere nel novero dei dies
fasti. È analoga parimenti la pro cedura per la votazione, salvo che il voto si
dà per tribù, la prima delle quali viene ad essere tratta a sorte, e prende
anche il (1) È degno di nota a questo proposito il {passo diMACROBIO,
Saturnales, I, 16, $ 34, in cui, riferendosi ad uno scritto del giureconsulto
P. Rutilio Rufo, parla dei giorni dimercato, in cui « rustici, intermisso rure,
ad mercatum legesque accipiendas Romam venirent ». Husche, Jurisp. antijustin.,
pag. 11. 378 nome di tribus principium. Nel seno poi di ogni tribù il voto è
dato viritim, e l'esito definitivo viene ad essere determinato dalla
maggioranza delle tribù. Questi comizii hanno però il vantaggio della più
facile convocazione, in quanto che possono essere convocati da magistrati
patrizii e da magistrati plebei, come i tribuni, al modo stesso che i
provvedimenti, che essi prendono, possono essere o vere leggi o semplici
plebisciti, secondo l'autorità che li propone (1); il che spiega come i comizii
tributi si siano gradatamente cambiati nell'organo legislativo più operoso
nell'ultimo periodo della repub blica. Mentre essi infatti richiamano a sè la
sola elezione dei magi strati minori, e la giurisdizione per i reati punibili
con sole pene (1) Per lo svolgimento pressochè parallelo dei comizii centuriati
e dei comizii tri buti mi rimetto a ciò che ho scritto più sopra al n ° 224,
pag. 273 e segg. e per il pareggiamento che venne facendosi fra le leggi ed i
plebisciti ai numeri 231, 232 e 233, pag. 281 e seg. Solo mi limito ad
aggiungere che negli ultimi tempi dagli stessi comizii tributi potevano emanare
vere leggi, allorchè erano convocati da veri magistrati, come consoli e
pretori, oppure plebisciti, allorchè erano convocati da tri buni della plebe.
Trovo una prova di ciò paragonando le intestazioni di due leggi riportate dal
Bruns. L'una è la lex agraria del 643 dalla fondazione di Roma, la cui
intestazione è così concepita: « tribuni plebei plebem ioure rogarunt,
plebesque ioure scivit », sebbene in tale occasione abbiano preso parte alla
votazione anche i patrizii come lo dimostra il fatto, che ivi si aggiunge: «
Tribus principium fuit, pro tribu Q. Fabius, Q. filius, primus scivit », il
quale Fabio dovette probabilmente essere un patrizio della gens Fabia (Bruns,
Fontes, pag., 72). L'altra legge invece è la les Quinctia, de aqueductibus,
dell'anno 745 di Roma, che è così intestata: « T. Quinctius Crispinus populum
iure rogavit, populusque iure scivit, in foro pro rostris Aedis divi Iulii
pridie K. Iulias. Tribus Sergia principium fuit; pro tribut Sex... L. F. Virro
primus scivit ». Bruns, Fontes, pag. 112. — Diqui infatti appare ad evidenza,
che quando la convocazione parte dal tribuno della plebe parlasi di plebes e di
plebiscitum, ancorchè la riunione comprenda anche i patrizii: mentre quando
trat tasi di convocazione fatta dal console esso chiama ai comizii tributi il
populus e il provvedimento emanato viene così ad essere un populiscitum, ossia
una lex nel senso primitivo dato a questo vocabolo. La cosa è pur confermata da
quella parte, che ci pervenne della intestazione alla lex Antonia, de
Tarmessibus, dell'anno 683 di Roma, in cui la riunione dei comizii tributi,
essendo provocata dai tribuni della plebe, ancorchè in base ad un parere dato
dal senato (de senatus sententia) parlasi perciò di convocazione della plebes e
quindi di plebiscitum (Bruns, Fontes, p. 91). In questo periodo quindi tanto le
leges quanto i plebiscita emanano da comizii tributi e la loro differenza
deriva dall'essere l'iniziativa presa da un vero magistrato (console, pretore)
che convoca il popolo, o da un tribuno della plebe, che convoca invece la
plebe, sebbene anche in queste ultime riunioni intervengano anche i patrizii.
Viene così ad essere vero ciò che dice Pomponio, che « inter plebiscita et
leges species constituendi interesset, potestas autem eadem esset ». L. 2, 8,
Dig. 1, 21. pecuniarie, finiscono invece per assorbire tutto il potere
legislativo. È a notarsi tuttavia, che mentre la legislazione dei comizii centu
riati aveva avuto un carattere specialmente politico e costituzionale, perchè è
con essa che si vennero pareggiando gli ordini, quella in vece, che usci dai
comizii tributi, ha un carattere eminentemente sociale, e in parte già si
riferisce ad argomenti di diritto privato (1). 308. Si può quindi conchiudere,
che la costituzione serviana per vade le istituzioni politiche di Roma per
tutto il periodo repubblicano. I concetti della medesima cominciano dall'avere
una base nella realtà, ma finiscono per cambiarsi in altrettante costruzioni
logiche, a cui si dà tutto lo sviluppo, di cui possono essere capaci. In questa
guisa il censo di economico divien morale, le centurie di militari si con
vertono in politiche, le tribù di ripartizioni locali mutansi in quadri, in cui
tutta la cittadinanza può essere compresa, per quanto la me desima dimori
eziandio fuori della città. Per tal modo la costitu zione di Servio Tullio, al
pari delle mura che ne portano il nome, poté bastare a tutti gli incrementi e a
tutte le trasformazioni, che Roma ebbe a subire per parecchi secoli, e per
tutto quel tempo, in cui essa tenne ancora in pregio le antiche virtù ed
istituzioni. Vero è, che le forme esteriori sembrano sempre essere foggiate su
quelle, che erano prima adoperate; ma conviene dire che « spiritus intus alit »,
e che questo nuovo alito spira per modo entro le forme an tiche, da far loro
capire un contenuto ben diverso dal primitivo, e da spezzarle anche, quando
siano diventate disadatte, nel qual caso però se ne foggiano delle nuove, ma
sempre sul modello delle an tiche. Questo è il magistero, che Roma seguì costantemente
nello svol gimento delle proprie istituzioni politiche. Un analogo processo ap
pare anche più evidente nella elaborazione più lenta e graduata, che ebbe a
ricevere il diritto privato di Roma, sovra il quale la costituzione serviana ha
certamente esercitata una influenza di gran lunga maggiore di quella che soglia
essergli attribuita, come spero di poter dimostrare nel seguente capitolo. (1)
Quanto alla legislazione comiziale e ai caratteridella medesima, cfr. FERRINI,
Storia delle fonti del diritto romano, Milano. La costituzione serviana e la
sua influenza sull'elaborazione del ius Quiritium. 309. Se fu agevole il
mettere in rilievo gli effetti della costitu zione serviana sul diritto
pubblico di Roma, non può dirsi altrettanto della influenza tacita, ma non meno
importante, che essa esercito sulla elaborazione del diritto privato. A questo
proposito poco o nulla ci dicono gli storici, come quelli che naturalmente si
arrestarono alle mutazioni più appariscenti, che si erano avverate nelle
istituzioni politiche. Solo Dionisio si limita a dire di Servio, che egli
pubblico ben cinquanta leggi sui delitti e sui contratti; che egli distinse i
giudizii pubblici dai privati; e che prese anche dei provvedimenti a favore dei
debitori, senza però ricordare il contenuto preciso dei medesimi (1). La
probabilità ed anche la necessità di una legislazione all'epoca serviana non
può certo essere negata, non potendo essersi avverata una trasformazione cosi
profonda nell'organizzazione civile e politica, senza che si riflettesse
eziandio nel diritto privato. Tut tavia è certo, che le mutazioni nel diritto
privato non dovettero tanto operarsi per mezzo di leggi, quanto piuttosto
mediante quella tacita elaborazione di un diritto comune alle due classi, che
era la naturale conseguenza dei nuovi rapporti, in cui esse venivano a
trovarsi. È quindi negli scritti dei giureconsulti, che si devono cer care le
reliquie delle istituzioni scomparse, e in essi sono sopratutto a cercarsi
quelle distinzioni, quei concetti, quegli atti simbolici, che sopravvissero ancora
in epoche, in cui più non se ne comprendeva il significato, e che possono in
qualche modo rannodarsi al concetto informatore della costituzione serviana.
Sono le hastae, le vindictae, i procedimenti simbolici, gli atti per aes et
libram, i concetti primi tivi del caput, della manus, del mancipium, la
distinzione fra le res mancipii e le res nec mancipii, tutti quei concetti
insomma, (1) Dron., IV, 10, 13, 25. Quanto ai debitori Dionisio, IV, 9, 11,
attribuisce a Servio di aver perfino pagato del proprio i creditori, e di aver
voluto che i beni e non la persona del debitore fossero vincolati al creditore;
ma ciò forse non è che un effetto di quella tendenza, che fa riportare a Servio
tutti i provvedimenti, che potevano apparire favorevoli alla classe servile ed
alla plebe. 381 di cui ignorasi la vera origine e che sono sopravvivenze di
un'e poca anteriore, che possono servire come materiali per la ricostru zione
del primitivo diritto. Gli è soltanto col ricomporre insieme tutti questi
rottami, che spargono talvolta dei vivi sprazzi di luce, quando siansi
collocati nel sito, ove debbono trovarsi, e coll'avere presente il carattere
del popolo, le sue istituzioni politiche, il suo metodo di serbare i vocaboli,
cambiandone anche il contenuto, ed il criterio informatore della riforma
serviana, che si pud riuscire a ricostituire il diritto privato, che dovette
iniziarsi in questo periodo, se non nei particolari minuti, almeno nelle sue
linee generali e nella logica fondamentale, da cui dovette essere percorso.
310. Fu questo paziente lavoro di ricomposizione, che mi mette in condizione di
porre innanzi a questo proposito una congettura, la quale a prima giunta potrà
apparire ardita, ma che risulterà sempre meglio comprovata, a misura che,
procedendo innanzi, tutte le reli quie, che ci pervennero, dell'antico diritto,
finiranno per prendere senza sforzo quel posto, che loro compete, e ci
porgeranno cosi una spiegazione naturale, logica e verosimile dei caratteri
primitivi del medesimo. La congettura sta nell'affermare, che almodo stesso che
con Servio Tullio si posero le basi della Roma storica, e si formd quel populus
romanus quiritium, che riempi poi la storia del racconto delle proprie gesta,
così fu eziandio da quel punto, che dovette iniziarsi la vera e propria
elaborazione di quel ius quiritium, che fu ilnucleo primitivo di tutto il
diritto privato di Roma, e che quest'ultimo, malgrado il posteriore suo
svolgimento, non perdette più mai quella speciale impronta, che ebbe ad
assumere sotto l'influenza della costi tuzione serviana. Non si vuole già dire
con ciò, che prima non vi fossero i quirites ed un ius quiritium; ma quelli non
comprendevano che i membri delle curie, e questo indicava il complesso delle
istituzioni di carattere gen tilizio, che erano proprie del popolo delle curie,
e che perciò avevano ancora un carattere pressochè feudale e patriarcale (1).
Con Servio (1) Cid parmi abbastanza dimostrato dall'analisi, che ho fatta della
legislazione attribuita ai Re nel periodo della città esclusivamente patrizia,
dalla quale risulta che la famiglia, la proprietà, il delitto e le pede
continuavano ancora in parte a conservare quei caratteri, che avevano nel
periodo gentilizio. V. sopra lib. II, cap. IV, 88 5 e 6, pag. 329 e segg. 382
Tullio invece incomincia l'elaborazione di un diritto comune ai due ordini, e
siccome i medesimi, riuniti nelle classi e nelle centurie, prendono il nome di
quirites, così incomincia la formazione di un vero e proprio ius quiritium, in
cui i vocaboli e le forme proprie del diritto formatosi nei rapporti fra le
genti patrizie e la popo lazione di condizione inferiore, da cui esse erano
circondate, ven gono a ricevere una nuova significazione, e ad essere applicati
ai rapporti, che erano l'effetto della nuova condizione di cose. Si conservano
pertanto ancora i vocaboli di manus per indicare nel loro complesso i poteri,
che appartengono al quirite, quale capo di famiglia e come proprietario di
terre; quello di nexum per indicare l'obbligazione di carattere quiritario;
quello di mancipium per in dicare il complesso delle cose e delle persone, che
dipendono dal quirite: ma intanto questi vocaboli, che dapprima designavano il
diritto proprio della classe superiore di fronte alle popolazioni vas salle, da
cui era circondata, vengono a significare i concetti pri mordiali del vero ius
quiritium, comune alle due classi, e si mutano in altrettante concezioni
logiche ed astratte, in cui può farsi entrare un nuovo contenuto. A quel modo
insomma che colla formazione della città patrizia quei concetti di connubium,
di commercium e di actio, che prima si erano spiegati nei rapporti fra le varie
genti, vennero invece a governare dei rapporti fra quiriti, e cambiandosi così
in concetti quiritarii furono il punto di partenza di altret tante istituzioni
proprie dei quiriti (ex iure quiritium ) (1); così quel ius nexi mancipiique,
che prima governava i rapporti fra i padri della gente patrizia e la plebe
circostante, per l'accoglimento di quest'ultima nel populus romanus quiritium,
venne a cam biarsi eziandio in una istituzione di carattere quiritario. Fu in
questa guisa, che accanto a quella parte del diritto quiritario, che si ispira
ad un'assoluta uguaglianza fra i capi di famiglia, fra i quali intercede, se ne
presenta un'altra, che tradisce l'inferiorità di con dizione di una delle
classi, che entró a costituire il populus, alla qual parte appartengono appunto
i concetti del nexum, del manci pium, della manus iniectio (2). 311. Si
aggiunge che il contenuto di questi concetti viene anche (1) Questo è ciò che
ho cercato di dimostrare più sopra al nº 266, p. 326 e segg. (2 ) Cfr. a questo
proposito ciò, che si è detto intorno alla condizione giuridica della plebe,
anteriormente alla sua ammessione nella città, al n ° 287, pag. 351 e seg. 383
a risentirsi delle circostanze sociali, in cui essi vennero a consolidarsi.
Siccome quindi il concetto ispiratore di tutta la riforma ser viana consisteva
nel censo, quale misura e stregua dei diritti, che appartengono ai quiriti,
cosi il censo venne in certo modo ad essere un crogiuolo, che servi ad isolare
l'elemento giuridico e politico di questi varii istituti dagli elementi di
carattere diverso con cui trovasi confuso. Il diritto perdette cosi alquanto
del suo carat tere religioso e venne invece ad esseremodellato in modo rozzo o
sintetico sul concetto del mio e del tuo; esso inoltre assunse un'im pronta di
rigidezza pressochè militare, quale poteva convenire ad un popolo, che
presentavasi nell'atteggiamento di un esercito, i cui membri riguardavano
l'asta come simbolo del proprio diritto, e « ma xime sua esse credebant, quae
ab hostibus caepissent ». Il censo viene in certo modo a misurare il contributo,
che ciascuno reca in questa specie di società, e quindi, mentre esso è la
stregua per giudicare dell'interesse, che ciascuno ha nella medesima, serve
anche per determinare la parte, per cui ciascuno deve contribuire alla co mune
difesa. Il popolo romano venne così a compiere collettivamente quel lavoro, che
dovrebbe fare anche oggi il giureconsulto per con siderare le persone sotto il
punto di vista esclusivamente giuridico, facendo astrazione da tutti gli altri
aspetti, sotto cui esse potreb bero essere considerate. Per tal modo il quirite,
come tale, non è più nè patrizio nè plebeo, ma viene ad essere isolato da tutti
i suoi rapporti gentilizii; si considera come un caput; conta come uno nel
censo, e compare nel medesimo, in quanto unifica in sè le per sone e le cose,
che da esso dipendono. Di qui l'immedesimarsi dei diritti di famiglia e di
proprietà, che è il carattere più saliente del primitivo ius quiritium, e la
significazione comprensiva e sintetica dei vocaboli in esso adoperati, che lo
indicano ad un tempo come capo di famiglia e quale proprietario di terre, ed
hanno in certo modo l'apparenza di altrettante rubriche, che esprimono
disgiuntamente i varii atteggiamenti sotto cui il quirite può essere
considerato (1). (1) Ritengo che questo sia il solo modo per spiegare in modo
plausibile quel ca rattere peculiare al diritto primitivo di Roma, per cui
persone e cose, proprietà e famiglia sembrano confondersi ed immedesimarsi
insieme. Non è sostenibile infatti, che i Romani a quest'epoca confondessero il
diritto del marito sulla moglie e del padre sui figli con quello del
proprietario sopra una cosa; ma siccome persone e cose figuravano nel censo,
come dipendenti dal medesimo caput, così esse al punto di vista giuridico
comparvero dapprima come se entrassero a far parte del medesimo mancipium o
della stessa familia. 384 - 312. Sarebbe naturalmente difficile trovare un
autore, che accenni a questa tacita elaborazione, ma la medesima risulta da
diverse circostanze, le quali insieme riunite provano che tale ha dovuto essere
il processo logico, che domino la formazione del ius quiri tium all'epoca
serviana. Così, ad esempio, noi sappiamo dal Momm sen, che una delle
significazioni più certe dell'espressione « populus romanus quiritium » è stata
quella di indicare la « leva patrizio plebea », leva che ha cominciato appunto
ad effettuarsi in quest'e poca (1). Noi sappiamo parimenti, che da quest'epoca
cominciarono ad essere lasciate in disparte le espressioni di iura gentium, di
iura gentilitatis, di ius gentilicium, che dovevano essere ancora frequenti
durante l'epoca patrizia, e che presero invece il sopravvento le espressioni di
ius quiritium, e di potestà spettante al cittadino ro mano ex iure quiritium.
Cosi pure non vi ha dubbio, che le altre forme di proprietà non vengono più
tenute in calcolo, ma si tien conto invece del solo mancipium, che vedremo a
suo tempo essere stata il primo nucleo della proprietà ex iure quiritium,
quello cioè che doveva essere valutata nel censo per commisurarvi la posizione
del cittadino (2). Intanto la espressione di quirites entra nell'uso co mune:
come serve per le formole di convocazione delle classi e delle centurie, così
serve per indicare i testimonii, che si adoperano negli atti di carattere
quiritario (classici testes). È da questo punto pa rimenti, che l'asta viene ad
essere l'emblema del diritto quiritario, che il populus assunse un carattere
essenzialmente militare, nè può ritenersi inverosimile la congettura, che a
quest'epoca rimonti il centumvirale iudicium, tribunale essenzialmente
quiritario, la cui competenza era appunto indicata dall'asta, che si infiggeva
davanti al medesimo (3). Infine fu certamente una conseguenza di questo (1)
MOMMSEN, Röm. Forschungen, I, pag. 168. (2) Quanto allo svolgimento del
concetto di mancipium, e alla conseguente distin zione delle res mancipii e nec
mancipii mi rimetto al seguente lib. IV, cap. II, S $ 1°, 4º, 5º. (3) L'origine
del centumvirale iudicium è una delle questioni più controverse nella storia
del diritto primitivo di Roma, nè io pretendo qui di risolverla. Per ora mi
limito a notare, che per me ha molta significazione quel passo di Gajo: «
festuca « autem utebantur quasi hastae loco, signo quodam iusti dominii, quod
maxime sua « esse credebant, quae ab hostibus caepissent; unde in
centumviralibus iudiciüs hasta « praeponitur ». Parmi infatti di scorgervi un
nesso, se non storico, almeno logico, fra l'epoca in cui il quirite appare come
un uomo di guerra, armato di asta,disposto a chiamar suo ciò, che conquisterà
sul nemico, e l'istituzione del centumvirale iudi 385 speciale punto di vista,
sotto cui i quiriti vennero ad essere con siderati, che fra i diversi negozii
giuridici, che potevano essere in uso, venne facendosi la scelta di quelli, che
si riferissero direttamente al diritto quiritario. Di qui le espressioni di
legis actiones, di actus legitimi, di iudicia imperio continentia, di negozii,
che si com pievano secundum legem publicam, espressioni tutte, che noi tro
viamo anche più tardi, ma la cui origine dovette rimontare a quel momento
storico, in cui il diritto quiritario cominciò a consolidarsi, come diritto
comune al patriziato ed alla plebe. Che anzi fu anche in quest'occasione, che
dovette modellarsi quell'atto quiritario per eccellenza, che è l'atto per aes
et libram, il quale serve in certo modo per attribuire autenticità a tutti gli
atti, che possono modifi care in qualche modo la posizione giuridica del
cittadino nella comunanza quiritaria. 313. Per verità basta porre l'istituzione
del censo, come base di partecipazione alla vita giuridica, e politica e
militare di una comu nanza, per comprendere come per l'attuazione di un tale
concetto fosse indispensabile: lº di determinare quali fossero le persone, che
dovevano contare nel censo (caput); 2° di isolare la parte del pa trimonio, che
è tenuta in calcolo nel censo (mancipium ) da tutte le altre (nec mancipium );
3º di determinare le forme pubbliche cium. Ora se vi ha epoca in cui il quirite
assuma decisamente questo carattere di uomo di guerra, questa è certamente
l'epoca serviana; e quindi è a quest'epoca che deve rimontare il concetto
informatore dell'hasta, della festuca, dell'actio sacra mento, in cui questa si
adopera, e del centumvirale iudicium, che deve essere appunto preceduto
dall'actio sacramento, e avanti cui trovasi infissa l'asta simbolo del giusto
dominio. La grave questione fu di recente presa in esame dal MUIRHEAD, Histor.
Introd., pag. 74, il quale sembra rannodarsi all'opinione del Niebhur, II, pag.
168, seguita poi dal KELLER e da molti altri, che riporta all'epoca serviana
l'istituzione dei centumviri. Questa opinione invece è ora vigorosamente
combattuta dal WLASSAK, Römische Processgessetze, Leipzig, 1888, pag. 131 a
139, il quale verrebbe alla conclusione, che l'istituzione dei centumviri non
abbia preceduto di molto la lex Ae butia, la quale secondo lui deve essere
assegnata al principio del sesto secolo di Roma. Se con ciò egli intende di
sostenere, che non abbiamo una prova diretta, che l'esistenza dei centumviri
rimonti ad epoca anteriore, egli è certamente nel vero; ma ciò non basta per
escludere, che l'istituzione potesse già esistere prima, senza che a noi ne sia
pervenuta notizia. È poi incontrastabile, che essa porta in sè un carattere di
antichità remota, e che i simboli, da cui è circondata e la procedura da cui è
proceduta, ci riportano a quella concezione essenzialmente militare del popolo
romano, che rimonta appunto all'epoca serviana. G. CARLE, Le origini del
diritto di Roma. 25 386 - e solenni, mediante cui questa proprietà potesse
essere trasmessa, e che servissero ad attestare qualsiasi modificazione potesse
soprav venire nella condizione giuridica del caput (atto per aes et libram );
4º di richiedere, che questi atti, i quali influissero sulla posizione del
quirite, fossero compiuti coll'intervento di un pubblico ufficiale (libri pens)
e colla testimonianza di persone, che appartengano alla stessa comunanza
(classici testes); 5 ° E infine di introdurre eziandio una procedura, che debba
essere di preferenza seguita nelle controversie di diritto quiritario (actio
sacramento ), ed anche un tribunale per manente, composto esso pure di persone
tolte dalle classi e dalle centurie, per risolvere le questioni relative al
diritto stesso (cen tumvirale iudicium ). Non può certamente sostenersi, che
tutte queste istituzioni, che poi si incontrano effettivamente nell'antico
diritto romano, possano tutte rimontare alla stessa costituzione serviana; ma
si può almeno affermare con certezza, che esse erano una conseguenza logica del
concetto informatore della medesima. Spiegasi in questo modo come mainel
diritto di Roma trovinsi sen z'altro costituita e formata una quantità di
istituzioni, in cui si ac centua il carattere quiritario, e come queste
acquistino un carattere prevalente e preponderante, mentre le istituzioni di
carattere genti lizio sembrano per il momento essere lasciate in disparte.
Spiegasi parimenti come il mancipium siasi distinto dal nec mancipium; come
l'espressione pressochè militare di mancipium sia sottentrata a quella
gentilizia di heredium; come diversi siano i modi per la trasmissione delle res
mancipii, e di quelle che non sono tali; come i diritti del quirite
compariscano in certo modo come illimitati e senza confine, poichè egli,
essendo isolato dall'ambiente, in cui prima si trovava, viene ad essere
riguardato come un'individualità sovrana ed indipendente. Intanto si comprende
eziandio come pochi siano i concetti e le istituzioni del diritto quiritario, e
come esso non governi dapprima tutti i rapporti giuridici, anche fra i
cittadini ro mani; poichè intorno ad esso perdurano sempre le istituzioni
gentilizie del patriziato ed anche le consuetudini della plebe. Questo ius
quiri tium insomma rappresenta quella parte di quel ricco materiale giu ridico,
che era posseduto dalle genti patrizie, fluttuante sotto forma consuetudinaria,
che primo riusci a precipitarsi ed a cristallizzarsi, e a diventare comune al
patriziato ed alla plebe, in quanto facevano parte del populus romanus
quiritium. Siccome poi esso venne a consolidarsi fra due classi, che prima
erano in condizioni compiuta 387 > mente diverse, così in questo periodo
della sua formazione dovette maggiormente irrigidirsi e prendere le mosse da
certi concetti, come quelli del nexum, del mancipium, della manus iniectio, che
eransi prima formati nei rapporti della classe superiore con quella inferiore.
314. Le cause intanto, che a parer mio possono aver determinata questa
singolare formazione del ius quiritium, che doveva poi eser citare tanta
influenza sull'avvenire della giurisprudenza romana, debbono essere cercate nel
carattere peculiare della costituzione serviana, e nello svolgimento che seppe
dare alla medesima il genio eminentemente giuridico del popolo romano. Prima
fra esse è la costituzione serviana, in virtù della quale all'organizzazione
essenzialmente patrizia di Roma primitiva sottentra un'organizzazione novella,
in cui entrano cosi i patrizii come i plebei nella doppia qualità di capi di
famiglia e di proprietarii di terre. Siccome infatti la famiglia e la proprietà
privata erano l'uniche istituzioni, che erano comuni alle due classi, così esse
solo potevano essere di base alla partecipazione nella stessa comunanza. Quindi
un primo effetto logico ed inevitabile di questa speciale condi zione, in cui
si trovò collocato il popolo dei quiriti, venne ad es sere questo, che al punto
di vista giuridico si fece astrazione da quelle istituzioni intermedie, che si
frapponevano fra la famiglia ed il popolo, quali erano le genti e le tribù
primitive. Sia pure che queste istituzioni continuino ad esistere nel
patriziato; ma in tanto l'elemento gentilizio viene ad essere escluso dal ius
quiritium nello stretto senso della parola, in quanto che di fronte al censo
più non vi sono che capi di famiglia, riguardati come liberi disposi tori delle
proprie cose. Quasi si direbbe, che la vita giuridica si ri tira dalle
istituzioni intermedie, e viene invece a riunirsi più potente e concentrata
nelle due istituzioni estreme, le quali vengono cosi ad irrigidirsi, come il
diritto da esse rappresentato, per guisa che la famiglia e il suo patrimonio si
cambia nel mancipium del proprio capo, ed il populus assume un carattere
essenzialmente militare. Quella distinzione pertanto fra res publica e res
familiaris, che già aveva cominciato a delinearsi fin dapprincipio, ora viene
ad accentuarsi in modo più vigoroso e potente; poichè tutti i gruppi intermedii
vengono in certa guisa ad essere soppressi al punto di vista della costituzione
serviana. Parimenti siccome l'intento di questo associarsi di elementi, fra cui
intercedevano così gravi differenze, era quello della comune difesa, e forse
anche quello dell'offesa e della conquista dei terri 388 torii vicini, così il
nuovo popolo non poteva a meno di assumere un carattere essenzialmente
militare, che doveva riflettersi eziandio nel suo diritto privato. Infine tutto
ciò che riferivasi al connu bium, al culto gentilizio, agli auspizii,
continuava anche dopo la costituzione serviana ad essere esclusivamente proprio
del patriziato: quindi i soli atti, che potessero essere comuni ai due ordini,
dove vano essere atti di carattere mercantile, quale era appunto l'atto per aes
et libram, il quale viene così a ricevere molteplici e sva riate applicazioni,
e ad essere la forma fondamentale, intorno a cui si aggirano tutti i negozii di
carattere quiritario. A queste considerazioni deve aggiungersi quella del genio
emi nentemente giuridico del popolo romano, il quale nella elaborazione del
proprio diritto seppe spingere fino alle sue ultime conseguenze lo speciale
punto di vista, a cui si era collocata la costituzione serviana. Questo è certo,
che per l'elaborazione giuridica presen tavasi mirabilmente atto questo
considerare i capi di famiglia come altrettanti capita, ed il complesso dei
loro diritti come un manci pium, ossia come una questione di mio e di tuo. Era
soltanto in questa guisa, che ai rapporti fra i diversi membri della comunanza
poteva essere applicata quella iuris ratio, elaborazione propria del genio
romano, mediante cui l'elemento giuridico viene ad isolarsi da tutti gli
elementi affini. Fu questo il processo, mediante cui il diritto potè essere
sottoposto a quella logica astratta, per cui le per sone perdono in certa guisa
ogni personalità concreta e diventano dei capita; le fattispecie si riducono ad
una selezione di tutto cid che possa esservi di strettamente giuridico nei
fatti umani; e le isti tuzioni giuridiche appariscono come altrettante
costruzioni geome triche, i cui elementi possono essere scomposti, e ricevere
cosi un proprio svolgimento. Il momento appunto, in cui questa logica si
presenta più rigida, più esclusiva, fu certamente l'epoca serviana, perchè in
essa i membri della comunanza non potevano considerarsi, che sotto l'aspetto
del mio e del tuo, e quindi dovevasi in ogni argomento procedere numero,
pondere acmensura e attribuire ad ogni diritto le forme accentuate e prominenti
del diritto di proprietà. 315. Si potrà forse osservare, che questa specie di astrazione
giu ridica mal si può comprendere in un popolo primitivo, quale sa rebbe il
Romano. È però facile il rispondere, che una parte di esso non poteva chiamarsi
del tutto primitiva, dal momento che aveva attraversato tutto un lungo periodo
di organizzazione sociale, ed aveva 389 fatto tesoro delle tradizioni del medesimo.
Ma vi ha di più, ed è che senza un'astrazione di questo genere era impossibile
la formazione di una comunanza, come quella dei quiriti. Questi sono certamente
uomini reali, ma in quanto entrano nella comunanza sono riguardati soltanto
come capi di famiglia e come proprietarii di terre. Il quirite pertanto è esso
stesso un'astrazione, come sono astrazioni e costruzioni logiche tutti i
diritti, che al medesimo appartengono. Ciò fa sì, che ad esso può applicarsi
quella logica geometrica e precisa, che nel suo genere non è meno meravigliosa
di quella, che i Greci applica rono ai concetti del vero, del bello e del
buono. I Romani procedono bensì in base alla realtà, ma hanno anch'essi una potenza
specula tiva e di astrazione, per cui isolano l'elemento giuridico dagli
elementi affini, e per tal modo riescono a costruire un edifizio logico e dia
lettico in tutte le sue parti, le cui linee son dissimulate nelle parti colari
fattispecie, ma che certo esiste nella mente dei giureconsulti. È l'ignorare
questa dialettica latente, che ci rende così difficile il ricom porre le
dottrine dei giureconsulti classici, e a questo proposito sono altamente
persuaso, che questa dialettica non può essere sorpresa che alle origini del
diritto quiritario. Posteriormente infatti il numero infinito dei particolari
colla sua stessa varietà e ricchezza rende im possibile di comprendere
l'ossatura primitiva dell'edifizio, mentre la sintesi primitiva del diritto
quiritario, le cause che ne determina rono la formazione, e la logica, che ebbe
a governarla, possono facil mente somministrarci la chiave per comprenderne il
successivo svi luppo. Lo studio di questa struttura primitiva del diritto
quiritario, sarà argomento del seguente libro, e conclusione del presente
lavoro. Per ora intanto, onde non essere costretto ad interrompere la
esposizione della struttura organica del jus quiritium col racconto degli
avvenimenti storici, che contribuirono alla formazione di esso, credo opportuno
di porre termine al presente libro con un capitolo, in cui cercherò di
riassumere quella lotta per il diritto fra il pa triziato e la plebe, che segui
nel periodo, che intercede fra la co stituzione serviana e la legislazione
decemvirale. Le divergenze fra gli autori nell'apprezzare gli effetti della
costituzione serviana, non impediscono, che tutti siano concordi nel
riconoscere, che essa costitui il primo passo al pareggiamento dei due ordini.
Con essa infatti la plebe venne ad avere un terreno giuridico e legale, sovra
cui potè misurarsi col patriziato, ed una assemblea, in cui potè impegnare la
lotta. Da quel momento perciò potè manifestarsi quella legge, che secondo
Aristotele determina tutte le rivoluzioni politiche e sociali, secondo cui gli
eguali sotto un aspetto, tendono anche a diventarlo sotto tutti gli altri
aspetti. Come potevano gli eguali nell'esercito, nei comizii centuriati, nei
tributi, continuare ad essere disuguali nei connubii, nelle magistra ture, nei
sacerdozii, e nel diritto (1 )? Finchè durd il regno di Servio Tullo, la lotta
non ebbe occasione di spiegarsi, perchè, secondo la tradizione, lo stesso
Servio si appiglid a tutti i mezzi per favorire quel pareggiamento, che era
nello spi rito della costituzione da lui introdotta. Egli quindi rinnovo a più
riprese il censo; introdusse nuove leggi relative ai contratti ed ai debiti;
concesse la cittadinanza ai servi manomessi, comprenden doli anche nel censo;
distinse i giudizii pubblici e privati; institui giudici privati per la
decisione delle controversie di minore impor tanza, e probabilmente eziandio la
Corte dei centumviri per stioni di diritto quiritario nello stretto senso della
parola, e cerco eziandio di migliorare la condizione dei creditori (2). Fu in
tal le que (1) ARISTOTELES, Politica, ed. Bekker. Lib. V, pagg. 1301 e 1302.
Questo con cetto trovasi mirabilmente espresso da CICERONE, De rep., I, 49,
allorchè scrive: « quo iure societas civium teneri potest, cum par non sit
conditio civium? Iura « paria esse debent eorum inter se, qui sunt cives in
eadem republica ». Di qui egli sembra dedurre, che se fosse continuata la
dominazione esclusiva dei padri, la città non avrebbe mai potuto avere uno
stabile assetto; « itaque cum patres rerum poti rentur, nunquam constitisse
civitatis statum putant ». (2 ) Questi sono i provvedimenti attribuiti a Servio
Tullio sopratutto da Dionisio, il cui racconto in questa parte ebbe ad essere
accettato dal Niebhur, dal Lange e da altri nella loro ricostruzione della
storia primitiva di Roma. È tuttavia da notarsi che Dionisio non parla punto
dei centumviri, ma solo dei iudices privati. V. Dion., IV, 22, 4, 10, 13. 391
modo che mentre egli si cattivo l'affetto e la riconoscenza delle plebi, che
continuarono sempre a venerarne la memoria e a con siderarlo come l'iniziatore
di tutte le riforme ad esse favorevoli, si procurò invece una sorda opposizione
nel patriziato, come lo dimostra il fatto, che egli avrebbe dovuto confinarlo
ad abitare nel vicus patricius (1). Dopo Servio così il patriziato che la plebe
si trovarono di fronte ad un pericolo comune, che fu il tentativo di tirannide
di Tar quinio il Superbo, il quale avrebbe tolto di mezzo le leggi ser viane, e
mentre da una parte cercò di occupare la plebe con la vori edilizii, si studið
dall'altra di comprimere il patriziato, non curandosi di convocare il senato,
nè di riempirne i seggi, che re stavano vacanti (2). – Ne consegui una sosta
nello svolgimento dei concetti ispiratori della costituzione serviana: sosta
forse più appa rente, che reale, poichè se il governo di un tiranno comprime la
libertà di tutti, può sotto un certo aspetto esser favorevole allo svolgersi
dell'uguaglianza fra le varie classi, rendendo tutti eguali di fronte al
dispotismo di un solo. Il tentativo ad ogni modo non potè riuscire, e quando i
due or dini dimenticarono le loro gare di fronte al nemico comune, venne ad
essere naturale, che l'evoluzione si ripigliasse, ritornando a quelle
istituzioni serviane, che per il momento erano ancora le sole, che potessero
essere di base ad un accordo del patriziato e della plebe. 317. Narra infatti
Livio, che i primi consoli furono nominati in base ai commentarii di Servio Tullo,
e Dionisio aggiunge, che essi avrebbero richiamate in vigore le leggi di Servio
sui contratti, abrogate da Tarquinio ed accette alla plebe, riattivata
l'istituzione del censo, e ristaurati i comizii per l'elezione dei magistrati e
per le deliberazioni popolari (3). Tutti gli autori poi, che ricordano il
passaggio dal governo regio al repubblicano, sono concordi in rico noscere, che
il cambiamento essenziale si ridusse a sostituire al re, magistrato unico ed a
vita, il consolato, magistrato duplice ed (1) « Patricius vicus, scrive Festo,
dictus eo, quod ibi patricii habitaverunt, iu a bente Servio Tullio, ut, si
quid molirentur adversus ipsum, ex locis superioribus opprimerentur ». Bruns,
Fontes, ed. V, pag. 351. (2) Dion., IV, 25; Liv., I, 49. Cfr. Bonghi, Storia di
Roma, I, pag. 209, ove riassume le tradizioni diverse a noi pervenute intorno a
Tarquinio il Superbo. (3 ) Liv., I, 60; Dion., V, 2. 392 annuo (1). Il potere
pertanto dei consoli fu una continuazione del potere regio, colla sola
differenza che il potere religioso si venne già in parte separando dal civile,
in quanto che i poteri, che appar tenevano al re qual sommo sacerdote del popolo
romano, furono per imitazione dell'antico affidati a un rex sacrorum, o rex sa
crificulus, ma in realtà si vennero concentrando nel pontifex maximus, chiamato
a presiedere il collegio dei fpontefici (2 ). Da cid in fuori il potere sovrano
non è dapprima ripartito fra i due consoli, ma persiste intero in ciascuno di
essi, salvo la reciproca intercessione, che l'uno può opporre agli atti
compiuti dall'altro. Che anzi, ad impedire che la continuità dell'imperium
possa essere interrotta col passare da un console ad un altro, tocca al magi
strato che esce di proporre ai comizii il proprio successore, e nel caso in cui
egli non lo faccia, si continua sempre a provvedere coll'istituzione
dell'interregnum, conservando il concetto ed il vo cabolo, che erano già in
vigore durante il periodo regio (3 ). È poi solo in seguito alle lotte fra
patriziato e plebe, e in causa anche dell'accrescersi della dominazione romana,
che quell'unico potere (imperium ) che accentravasi dapprima nel re e poscia
nei consoli, si viene lentamente e gradatamente suddividendo fra le mol.
teplici magistrature del periodo repubblicano; per guisa che le ma gistrature
maggiori (consoli, pretori, censori) si dividono in certo modo le funzioni, che
un tempo erano comprese nell'imperium regis, (1) Questo concetto, che nel
passaggio alla repubblica non siasi sostanzialmente mutato il carattere del
potere spettante al magistrato, occorre in Dion., IV, 72-75; in CiceR., De rep.,
II, 30 e in Livio, II, 1, 17. V. il raffronto che ne fa il Bongai, op. cit.,
pagg. 562-69. (2 ) Che la dignità del pontifex maximus dati soltanto dalla
repubblica, mentre prima era il re stesso, che era il sommo sacerdote del
popolo romano, è cosa da tutti ammessa. V. fra gli altri, Bouché-LECLERQ, Les
Pontifes de l'ancienne Rome, p. 8 e 9; e il Willems, Le droit public romain,
pag. 51 e pag. 318. A parer mio la causa storica del fatto sta in questo, che
colla costituzione serviana il populus ro manus quiritium, comprendendo anche
la plebe, perdette in parte quel carattere re ligioso, che aveva finchè era
ristretto alle genti patrizie, e quindi il magistrato del popolo romano assume
un carattere essenzialmente civile e militare, mentre i pon tefici, pur
rappresentando il popolo come famiglia religiosa, continuarono ad essere i
custodi delle tradizioni religiose e giuridiche di quel patriziato, da cui
erano tolti. (3 ) V. quanto all' interrex e alla nomina di esso per parte dei
patres o patricii ciò che si è detto ai numeri 237-39, pag. 288 e segg., ove ho
cercato di dimostrare che la nomina dell'interrex, la patrum auctoritas e la
lex curiata debbono riguar darsi come sopravvivenze della costituzione
esclusivamente patrizia. 393 mentre le magistrature minori (questori, edili)
sono uno svolgimento di quegli ufficiali subalterni, che dapprima erano
nominati dal re e dal console, e che finiscono col tempo per essere anche essi
nomi nati direttamente dal popolo (1). È in questo modo che si spiega come mai
siasi potuto avverare una trasformazione cosi grande nella forma di governo,
senza che si alterassero le basi fondamentali della costi tuzione primitiva di
Roma. 318. Intanto finchè durarono i pericoli esterni delle guerre susci tate
dagli esuli Tarquinii, si mantenne fra i due ordini un' appa rente concordia
(2), come lo dimostra il fatto, che i consoli sogliono essere tolti da famiglie
ritenute di tendenze favorevoli alla plebe, e che sono i consoli stessi, che
propongono di togliere le scuri dai fasci, allorchè rientrano nelle città, e
consacrano con leggi spe ciali il ius provocationis ad populum (3). Ma appena
colla morte di Tarquinio si attutiscono i pericoli esterni, si accentuano
invece i dissidii interni, ed è allora che si inizia una lotta, che direbbesi
un modello nel suo genere, tanta è la tenacità del patriziato nel conservare i
suoi privilegii e la perseveranza della plebe nell'ap profittarsi di tutte le
opportunità per ottenere concessioni novelle. Egli è durante questa lotta, che
già si pud scorgere come nella massa plebea venga distinguendosi la plebe ricca
ed agiata, la quale essendo pari in ricchezze aspira alla comunanza dei
connubii e degli (1) La specializzazione dell'imperium del magistrato è uno dei
processi più degni di nota, che presenti lo svolgimento delle istituzioni
repubblicane, poichè l'imperium regis, al pari del potere giuridico del capo di
famiglia, parte da un'unità e sintesi potente, a cui succede durante la
repubblica una differenzazione, la quale,mentre è determinata dall'incremento
della città e dalle lotte fra patriziato e plebe, obbe. disce però sempre alla
logica fondamentale del concetto primitivo di imperium. Cfr. MOMMSEN, Le droit
public romain, I, pag. 5; Herzog, Op. cit., I, § 32, pag. 580 e segg., e ciò
che si disse in proposito al nn. 201-204, pag. 245 e segg. (2) La diversità di
trattamento, usata dal patriziato alla plebe, nell'epoca che seguì
immediatamente la cacciata dei re e in quella posteriore alla morte di
Tarquinio il Superbo è accennata da Liv., II, 21, 6 e da Sallustio, Hist. fragm.,
I, 9. Nota però giustamente il Bonghi, che i dissidii esistevano già prima, e
che quindi venne soltanto meno l'indulgenza, che prima era adoperata. Op. cit.,
pag. 302. (3) La provocatio ad populum, che Livio chiama « unicum libertatis
praesidium ebbe ad essere consacrata negli inizii della repubblica colla lex
Valeria, proposta dal console Valerio Pubblicola. La provocatio doveva già
preesistere nel periodo regio, ma fu necessaria una espressa consacrazione di
essa per il nuovo elemento, che era entrato a far parte del populus. Cfr. ciò
che si disse al n ° 245, pag. 300 e 301. >> 394 onori, e la plebe povera
e minuta, che sopratutto teme il carcere privato dei creditori patrizii, e
aspira a quella ripartizione dell'ager pubblicus, mediante cui può entrare a
fare parte della vera ed ef fettiva cittadinanza, accolta nelle classi e nelle
centurie (1). Di qui i caratteri peculiari di questa lotta, che ha del pubblico
e del pri vato ad un tempo, cosicchè una sommossa provocata dalla legge inumana
sulla condizione dei debitori, può condurre alla istituzione del tribunato
della plebe, al modo stesso che una mozione per restringere l'arbitrio del
magistrato, finisce per riuscire ad una proposta di generale codificazione.
Cosi pure è un carattere di questo conflitto, che le proposte dei tribuni
sogliono comprendere più provvedimenti ad un tempo, anche di natura diversa, e
cid perchè essi mirano a tenere unite la plebe ricca ed agiata e quella povera
e minuta (2 ). Di più anche in questa lotta si mantiene quel carattere
pressochè contrattuale, che ha governato la formazione della città; poichè i
due ceti vengono fra di loro a transazioni e ad accordi, stipulano dei foedera,
e cercano persino di dare aime desimi quella consacrazione religiosa, che è
propria dei trattati fra i popolidiversi (leges sacratae) (3). Così pure la
plebe, quando trova incomportabile la propria coesistenza nella città, minaccia
di abban donare la comunanza e di fermare altrove la propria sede, o quanto
meno si ricusa alla leva, che è il primo obbligo e diritto del citta dino.
Dappertutto infine si palesa il carattere essenzialmente pra tico del popolo
romano, in quanto che il conflitto non appare do minato da questo o da quel
concetto teorico, ma sembra essere determinato dalle opportunità ed occasioni,
che si presentano nella realtà dei fatti. La questione infatti che si agita
viene nella so stanza ad essere una sola, cioè quella del pareggiamento
giuridico e politico dei due ordini; ma essa prende occasione ora dai mal
trattamenti inflitti ai debitori, ora dall'arbitrio del magistrato, ora (1)
Questa distinzione della plebe in due parti è acutamente notata da leinio
GENTILE, Le elezioni e il broglio nella Rep. Rom., pag. 24. (2) Di qui
l'espressione di lex satura o per saturam, la quale secondo Festo si
gnificherebbe a lex multis aliis legibus confecta ». Siccome però essa
cambiavasi in un mezzo per ottenere favore a provvedimenti, che altrimenti non
sarebbero stati approvati, accoppiandoli con altri che erano popolari, così si
cercd diporvi riparo colla lex Cecilia Didia del 655 di Roma. Cic., De domo,
20, 53. Festo, vº Satura. Cfr. WILLEMS, op. cit., pag. 184. (3 ) V. quanto alle
leges sacratae la dissertazione del LANGE, De sacrosancta tri buniciæ
potestatis natura eiusque origine. Leipzig, 1883. 395 dalla ripartizione
dell'agro pubblico, ora dall'incertezza del diritto, ed ora infine dal divieto
dei connubii fra il patriziato e la plebe, e dall' esclusione di quest'ultima
dalle magistrature e dai sacer dozii (1). Per tal modo quella plebe, che memore
dapprima della condizione pressochè servile da cui era uscita, si contenta di
chie. dere l'istituzione di un magistrato, il quale non abbia altra potestá che
quella di venirle di aiuto, finisce col tempo, guidata ed orga nizzata da
questo istesso magistrato, per ottenere non solo il pareg giamento giuridico e
politico, ma per far entrare nei quadri della costituzione politica di Roma i
suoi magistrati (tribuni della plebe), i suoi plebisciti, ed i suoi comizii
tributi (2 ). 319. Qui però non può essere il caso di tener dietro alle vicis.
situdini diverse dei varii aspetti della questione politica e sociale, che si
agito fra il patriziato e la plebe, ma piuttosto di cercare quali fossero le
condizioni rispettive dei due ordini per ciò che si riferisce al diritto
privato. È questo certamente il maggior problema che presenti questo pe riodo
di transizione, poichè se la storia ha serbato qualche traccia delle lotte
politiche fra il patriziato e la plebe, noi sappiamo quasi nulla di quello che
accadde fra di loro nell'attrito dei quotidiani in teressi. Si aggiunge che le
testimonianze, che ci pervennero in proposito, sono del tutto contradditorie.
Mentre infatti Dionisio attesta che si rimisero in vigore le leggi intorno ai
contratti attri buite a Servio Tullio, Pomponio invece dice senz'altro, che
tutte le leggi promulgate dai re furono abolite con una legge tribunizia, e che
tutto fu lasciato alla consuetudine come era prima (3). Non vi è quindi altro
modo di uscire dalla difficoltà, che di argomentare lo stato del diritto
privato dalle condizioni rispettive, in cui si tro vavano le due classi. (1) Un
riassunto chiaro ed ordinato degli aspetti essenziali, sotto cui ebbe a svol
gersi la lotta, fra patriziato e plebe, nelle parti attinenti al diritto,
occorre nel Mui RHEAD, Histor. Introd., part. II, sect. 17, pag. 83-88. Per un
racconto più partico lareggiato cfr. il Lange, Histoire intérieure de Rome,
livre II, pag. 111 a 217. (2 ) Già ebbi occasione di riassumere questo
singolare svolgimento della costitu zione politica di Roma a proposito dei
comizië tributi ai numeri 233-34, p. 271 e segg.; dei plebisciti ai numeri
231-32-33, pag. 281 e seg.; e dei tribuni della plebe n ° 249, pag. 292 e seg.
(3 ) Dion., V, 2; Pomp., Leg. 2, § 3 (Dig. I, 2). Secondo quest'ultimo
l'incertezza del diritto sarebbe durata circa vent'anni; ma è facile il notare,
che se essa perdurò fino alle XII Tavole, l'intervallo dovette essere di circa
sessant'anni. 396 Ora è certo anzitutto, che in questo periodo quell'attrito
delle classi, che appare nel campo politico, dovette avverarsi eziandio nel
dominio strettamente giuridico. Anche qui dovettero trovarsi di fronte le
tradizioni patrizie e le consuetudini plebee, coll' avver tenza perd che la
magistratura esclusivamente patrizia fini per dare una prevalenza alle prime
sulle seconde; cosicchè è probabile, che sopratutto la plebe ricca ed agiata,
malgrado il divieto dei connubii, cercasse già in qualche modo di imitare
l'organizzazione della fa miglia patrizia. Di più siccome eravi fra il
patriziato e la plebe co munanza di commercio, ma non ancora quella di
connubio, cosi si dovette continuare quell'elaborazione di un jus quiritium,
comune alle due classi, che già erasi iniziata colla costituzione serviana, ed
il medesimo dovette continuare a modellarsi sotto quelle forme di carattere
mercantile, che allora si erano introdotte, ricorrendo sopratutto
all'applicazione dell'atto quiritario per eccellenza, ossia dell'atto per aes
et libram. Che anzi, quando si voglia ammettere con alcuni autori, che il
tribunale de' centumviri, composto dap prima di quiriti tolti dalle varie
classi e poscia dalle varie tribù, rimonti all'epoca di Servio Tullio,
converrebbe, inferirne che questo Tribunale, in quell'epoca probabilmente
presieduto da un ponte fice, dovette cooperare efficacemente alla formazione
del jus qui ritium, come quello che anche più tardi appare chiamato a ri
solvere questioni di diritto strettamente quiritario (1). Nella sua opera
tuttavia la corte dei centumviri dovette più tardi anche es sere aiutata dai
decemviri stlitibus iudicandis, i quali pur sareb bero stati istituiti a poca
distanza dalla legislazione decemvirale, e dichiarati inviolabili, al pari dei
tribuni e degli edili della plebe, sarebbero stati chiamati a decidere le
questioni di stato (2 ). Infine è (1) Quanto all'istituzione dei centumviri e
alle varie opinioni intorno all'epoca, a cui rimonta vedi il capitolo
precedente, nº 312, pag. 384, nota 3. (2) È del tutto incerta anche l'origine
dei decemviri stlitibus iudicandis, in quanto che l'unico accenno ai medesimi
sarebbe quello, che occorre in Livio, III, 55, il quale parla di iudices decemviri,
stati dichiarati inviolabili al pari dei tribuni e degli edili della plebe
colla legge Valeria Horatia del 305 di Roma. Di recente poi il WLASSAK,
Römische Processgesetze, Leipzig, 1888, pag. 139 a 151, sostiene che i
decemviri stlitibus iudicandis non debbono confondersi coi iudices decemviri di
Livio ma sono di istituzione posteriore. Noi però sappiamo di essi, che
giudicavano delle questioni di libertà e distato. Cic., pro Caec., 33. V. per
l'opinione comunemente ricevuta Keller, Il processo civile romano (Traduz.
Filomusi, Napoli 1872, pag. 17), il quale anzi li farebbe rimontare sino a
Servio Tullio, come giudici per le cause 397 pur probabile, che gli edili della
plebe, come ufficiali dipendenti dai tribuni, fossero fin d'allora chiamati a
risolvere quelle quistioni fra i plebei, che sorgevano sui mercati e sulle
fiere, e che comin ciassero cosi a dare forma e carattere giuridico alle
costumanze della plebe. In ogni caso è incontrastabile, che in questo periodo
il console, pressochè assorbito dalle cure militari, dovette, per quello che si
riferisce alla elaborazione del diritto e all'amministrazione della giustizia,
lasciare una larga parte alla influenza del collegio dei pontefici. Questo
collegio infatti, che abbiamo visto, fin dal l'epoca di Numa, essere chiamato
alla custodia delle tradizioni re ligiose e giuridiche, aveva serbato il
proprio ufficio anche dopo la cacciata dei re, e aveva anzi acquistata una
indipendenza maggiore, in quanto che era presieduto non più dal re, ma da un
pontifex maximus, in cui si unificavano i poteri al medesimo spettanti. Si
comprende pertanto la testimonianza pressochè unanime degli scrittori, che ci
descrivono il diritto primitivo di Roma, sopratutto negli inizii della
Repubblica, come riposto negli archivii de' ponte fici, e parlano di questi
ultimi come dei primimaestri in giurispru denza, e del ius pontificium, come di
una scuola a cui venne poi formandosi il ius civile (1). Intanto è naturale,
che i pontefici, come depositarii delle antiche tradizioni, avessero sopratutto
per iscopo di applicare le forme antiche ai rapporti giuridici, che venivano
sor gendo collo svolgersi della convivenza civile, e che in questo senso
venissero continuando quella elaborazione di un ius quiritium, che erasi
iniziata dal tempo, in cui la plebe era entrata a far parte della cittadinanza
romana. 320. Insomma la conclusione ultima viene ad essere questa, che in
questo periodo dovette avverarsi un continuo attrito fra le isti tuzioni
patrizie e le costumanze plebee, e che perciò dovette essere grandissima
l'incertezza intorno a quel diritto, che doveva essere applicato nei rapporti
fra il patriziato e la plebe. Ne conseguiva che private, il che non sembra da
ammettersi, perchè il giudice di queste cause dovette essere piuttosto il iudex
unus tratto dai iudices selecti. (1) Per l'influenza dei pontefici sul diritto
civile vedi sopra i numeri 262 e 263, pag. 321 e seg. colle note relative. Si
occupò molto largamente di questo argomento il KARLOWA, Röm. R. G., 1, $
43, pag. 219 e seg. Trovasi poi un esattissimo elenco dei libri, annali e
commentarii dei pontefici nel TEUFFELS, Geschichte der röm. Literatur, Leipzig,
1882, SS 70-76, pag. 114 a 119. 398 il console, chiamato ad amministrare la
giustizia, finiva per non avere alcun confine al proprio arbitrio, il che
doveva essere grave alla plebe, anche per trattarsi di magistrato, il quale per
essere tratto esclusivamente dall'ordine patrizio, poteva ritenersi favorevole
a quest'ultimo. Si comprende cid stante come Terentillo Arsa, nel 292,
cominciasse dal chiedere che fosse eletta una commissione, che determinasse per
iscritto quale fosse la giurisdizione dei consoli, acciò fosse posto un confine
all' arbitraria ed oppressiva ammini strazione di ciò, che essi chiamavano col
nome di diritto e di legge (1). Fu solo nell'anno dopo, che d'accordo coi
colleghi, per togliere alla sua proposta il carattere di odiosità contro il
potere dei consoli, egli chiese che la legge, così pubblica come privata,
dovesse essere codificata, e che cosi ogni incertezza venisse per quanto si
poteva ad essere rimossa. L'importanza della questione viene ad essere provata
dalla lotta di dieci anni, che ebbe ad essere sostenuta in torno alla medesima;
poichè solo nel 303 di Roma si ebbe completa la legislazione decemvirale. Qui
non può essere il caso di entrare nell'esame minuto della medesima, nè di
parlare dei tentativi di rico struzione, che se ne vennero facendo anche in
questi ultimi tempi (2): mi basterà invece dir qualche cosa intorno al
carattere generale di questo codice, da cui doveva prendere le mosse tutto lo
svolgimento posteriore del diritto civile di Roma. A mio avviso la legge
decemvirale e la legge Canuleia, che la segui a poca distanza (309 di Roma) ed
aboli il divieto de' con nubii fra il patriziato e la plebe, debbono essere
considerate, quanto al diritto privato di Roma, come l'avvenimento che chiude
il periodo delle origini ed apre quello dello svolgimento storico della giuris
prudenza romana. Colle leggi delle XII tavole si chiude in certo modo il
periodo del ius non scriptum, di quel diritto cioè, che viveva più nelle
consuetudini che nelle leggi, ed incomincia il pe riodo del ius scriptum,
poichè da quel momento anche l'interpre tazione cominciò ad avere la sua base
nella codificazione (3 ). Con (1) Liv., III, 9. Cfr. MuirŅEAD, op. cit., pag.
87 e 88. (2 ) V. Ferrini, Storia delle fonti del diritto romano, pag. 5 a 9. È
poi noto, che i grandi tentativi di ricostruzione delle XII Tavole si riducono
a quelli di Jacopo Gottofredo, del Dirksen e a quello recentissimo del Voigt,
già più volte citato. (3) Non voglio dire con ciò, che prima non esistessero
delle leggi scritte: ho anzi dimostrato che dovettero esservene fin dal periodo
regio. Tuttavia è solo colle XII Tavole, che si introdusse tutto un sistema di
legislazione scritta, il quale potè servire 399 esso parimenti termina il
periodo del ius non aequum, ossia di un diritto disuguale fra patriziato e
plebe, e comincia il periodo del ius aequum, ossia la formazione di un diritto
eguale per l'uno e per l'altro ceto, il che gli autori esprimono con dire, che
le leggi delle XII Tavole erano intese ad aequandum ius e ad aequandam
libertatem (1). Con esso infine termina il periodo della indistinzione del fas
e del ius, al modo stesso che già si possono scorgere i principii del diverso
indirizzo, in cui si pongono il diritto pubblico e il diritto privato; dei
quali il primo continua a svolgersi nelle lotte della piazza e del foro, mentre
il secondo comincia ad apparire come il frutto della tacita elaborazione prima
dei pontefici e poscia dei giureconsulti. 321. Non vi ha poi dubbio che anche
la legislazione decemvirale deve essere considerata come un compromesso fra i
due ordini e in certo modo come una specie di patto fondamentale della loro coe
sistenza nella medesima città (2 ). Di qui la conseguenza, che le XII Tavole nè
comprendono un sistema compiuto di legislazione pubblica e privata, nè
rinnovano tutte le disposizioni che già erano contenute nelle leggi regie: ma
sembrano il più spesso limitarsi ad introdurre sotto forma imperativa quei
provvedimenti, che potevano essere stati oggetto di discussione e di lotta, il
che è sopratutto evidente quanto alle disposizioni, che si riferiscono al
diritto pub come punto di partenza alla iuris interpretatio ed alla disputatio
fori, di cui parla Pomponio, L. 2, § 5, dig. 1-2. Quanto ai caratteri
particolari di questa interpre tatio dei veteres iures conditores, vedi JHERING,
Esprit du droit romain, III, pag. 142 e segg. (1) LIVIO (III, 24 ) fa dire ai
decemviri « se quantum decem hominum ingeniis provideri potuerit, omnibus,
summis infimisque iura aequasse ». Di quianche l'espres sione, che occorre in
Livio ed in Tacito, che le leggi delle XII Tavole fossero il fons omnis aequi
iuris, ed anche il finis aequi iuris, perchè esse, a differenza di altre leggi,
non furono il frutto di una sorpresa, ma di una vera transazione ed accordo fra
i due ordini. Vedi i passi relativi nel RIVIER, Introd. Histor., Bruxelles,
1881, pag. 163 a 167, come pure nel Voigt, Die XII Tafeln, I, pag. 7 e note
relative. (2) Questa specie di compromesso appare dalle parole che Livio, III,
31 attribuisce ai tribuni della plebe: « finem tamen certaminum facerent. Si
plebeiae leges displi « cerent, at illi communiter legum latores et ex plebe et
ex patriciis, qui utrisque « utilia forent, quaeque aequandae libertatis
essent, sinerent creari ». Di qui rica vasi anche un argomento per inferire,
che la legislazione decemvirale suppone già una specie di fusione del diritto
delle genti patrizie con quello della plebe, il che sarà meglio dimostrato più
oltre. 400 blico, e per quelle che riguardano l'usura e il trattamento che il
creditore può usare contro il debitore (1). Cid spiega anche in parte la
sobrietà e la concisione della legislazione decemvirale, la quale, senz'entrare
nella descrizione degli istituti ed in disposizioniminute, si limita a porre
dei concetti sintetici e comprensivi, pressochè enunziati in forma assiomatica,
lasciando poi alla interpretazione di ricavare da essi tutte le conseguenze, di
cui potevano essere ca paci (2). Di qui derivano eziandio la venerazione e la
riverenza, in cui fu tenuto sempre questo codice primitivo del popolo romano;
la differenza che i Romani ravvisarono sempre fra queste leggi fonda mentali, e
quelle che si vennero gradatamente aggiungendo alle medesime; ed il fatto
incontrastabile, che la legislazione decemvirale, malgrado la pochezza dei
proprii dettati, ha finito per essere il punto di partenza di un sistema intiero
di legislazione. Tuttavia il carattere più saliente e più importante per la
storia del diritto primitivo di Roma, che a mio giudizio vuolsi ravvisare nella
legislazione decemvirale, consiste in questo, che siccome le XII Tavole furono
il primo codice comune ai due ordini, cosi fra tutti i documenti dell'antico
diritto, esse portano le traccie più evi denti dell'origine diversa delle
istituzioni, che entrarono a costituire il sistema del primitivo diritto romano.
In esse infatti noi troviamo da una parte trasportate di peso certe
istituzionidelle genti patrizie, il che si avverò sopratutto quanto
all'organizzazione della famiglia e alla successione e tutela legittima degli
eredi suoi, degli agnati e dei gentili, istituzioni che i giureconsulti ci
dicono appunto essere state introdotte dalla legislazione decemvirale (3 ). In
esse parimente (1) Così, ad esempio, la legge secondo cui a de capite civis
nisi maximo comi tiatu ne ferunto » mira certamente ad impedire, che le accuse
capitali potessero re carsi innanzi ai concilia plebis, come i tribuni della
plebe avevano più volte tentato di fare, come lo dimostra, fra gli altri, il
processo contro C. Marcio Coriolano. Uno scopo analogo dovette pure avere la
legge: privilegia ne inroganto. Cic., de leg., 19, 44. (2) Nota a ragione il
Bruns, che nelle XII Tavole già si appalesa il genio giu ridico di Roma, sia
perchè esse già comprendono ogni parte del diritto, e sia anche per il
carattere obbiettivo e pratico delle singole disposizioni. Vedi HOLTZENDORF's,
Rechts Encyclopedie, I, 117. A parer mio esse dimostrano eziandio, che
l'elabora zione giuridica era già pervenuta molto innanzi, in quanto che già si
dànno come formati i concetti del nexum, del mancipium, del testamentum, senza
che occorra di indicarne il contenuto. (3) Se prestiamo fede ai giureconsulti
sarebbero state introdotte direttamente dalla legislazione decemvirale le
successioni e le tutele legittime e le legis actiones, le quali sarebbero state
composte dai pontefici sui termini stessi delle XII Tavole. 401 è evidente lo
sforzo dei decemviri di porgere alla plebe un mezzo per uscire dalla posizione
di fatto in cui si trovava, e procurarsi invece una posizione di diritto; come
lo dimostra fra le altre cose la parte assai larga fatta all'usus auctoritas,
che compare qual mezzo per contrarre le giuste nozze, per acquistare le cose
mobili ed immobili, e qual modo di acquisto della stessa eredità (1). Infine
nella legislazione decemvirale si rinviene eziandio una parte dovuta
all'elaborazione di quel rigido ius quiritium, che ebbe a formarsi sotto
l'influenza del censo e delle altre istituzioni serviane, i cui concetti
fondamentali sono quelli del nexum, del mancipium, del testamentum, dell'atto
per aes et libram, nei quali tutti il quirite appare con un potere senza
confini, cosicchè la sua parola viene in certo modo a convertirsi in legge: «
uti lingua nuncupassit ita ius esto » (2 ). 322. Questi varii elementi di
origine diversa, che insieme ad alcune disposizioni particolari imitate dalle
legislazioni greche (3) (1) Lo stesso è pure a dirsi del riconoscimento della
fiducia, la quale non avendo forma giuridica dovette probabilmente nascere
nelle consuetudini della plebe. Vedi in proposito ciò che si disse quanto al
contributo della plebe nella formazione del di ritto romano ai numeri 148 a
157, pag. 182 e segg., e sopratutto a pag. 184. Si ritornerà poi sull'argomento
nel libro seg., cap. IV, § 3, trattando della mancipatio cum fiducia. (2) V.
cap. precedente, relativo all'influenza della costituzione serviana sulla for
mazione del ius quiritium. (3) V. Lattes, L'ambasciata dei Romani per le XII
Tavole. Milano, 1884. Non può qui essere il caso di trattare a fondo la
questione della ambasciata in viata in Grecia e ne quella dell'influenza greca
sulle XII Tavole, questione che pud aver bisogno di un nuovo stadio dopo la
scoperta delle leggi di Gortyna: ma credo che il seguente libro proverà fino
all'evidenza, che le basi fondamentali del primitivo ius quiritium sono desunte
dalle istituzioni già esistenti fra le genti italiche, e che furono
eminentemente ed esclusivamente romani così il modo in cui furono foggiati gli
istituti giuridici, come il processo logico e storico ad un tempo, con cui
furono svolti. L'analogia pertanto di certi istituti può anche essere prove
nuta o dalla comune origine ariana, o dalle condizioni analoghe, in cui si
trova rono le genti italiche e le elleniche nel passaggio dall'organizzazione
per genti alla vita cittadina; mentre l'imitazione diretta si limita a
disposizioni di poca impor tanza, la cui origine ellenica è sempre di buon
animo accennata dagli autori la tini, che non disconobbero mai la sapienza dei
Greci, pur affermando la propria superiorità in tema di diritto. Cfr. Voigt,
XII Tafeln, I, pag. 10 a 16, dove pare si trovano raccolti i passi degli
antichi autori, che si riferiscono all'argomento. Quanto all'influenza greca
sulla giurisprudenza romana in genere mi rimetto a ciò che ho scritto nella
Vita del diritto, pag. 179 a 194. 1. CARLE, Le origini del diritto di Roma, 26
402 formarono il substratum della legislazione decemvirale, finiscono dopo di
essa per svolgersi contemporaneamente e quindi con essa può dirsi aver termine
il ius quiritium propriamente detto, e cominciare. invece l'elaborazione di un
ius proprium civium romanorum, in cui continuarono però a perdurare le
primitive istituzioni del ius quiritium. Ciò ci è dimostrato dall'attestazione
di Pomponio, se condo cui tutto quel diritto, che venne a formarsi sulla
legislazione decemvirale, mediante la iuris interpretatio, la disputatio fori,
e la formazione delle legis actiones, venne appunto ad essere indi cato col
vocabolo di ius civile (1). Anche qui pertanto si fa ma nifesto quel singolare
magistero, che si rivela poi in tutta la forma zione della giurisprudenza romana,
per cui, accanto al diritto già formato e consolidato, havvene una parte, che
continua sempre ad essere in via di formazione. Per talmodo accanto al ius
quiritium, iniziatosi sopratutto colla costituzione serviana, venne formandosi
il ius civile, i cui esordii partono dalla legislazione decemvirale; poi
accanto a questo si esplicò il ius honorarium, elaboratosi sopratutto
sull'editto del Pretore; infine molto più tardi ancora, secondo qualche autore,
accanto al ius ordinarium viene formandosi il cosi detto ius extraordinarium (2
). Parmi quindi giusto il ritenere, che colla legislazione decemvirale si
chiude il periodo delle origini propriamente dette, in cui le varie istituzioni
trovansi ancora allo stato embrionale, e comincia il vero svolgimento storico
del diritto romano, in cui le varie parti del di ritto pubblico e privato, già
procedendo separate le une dalle altre, debbono anche essere studiate
separatamente nel proprio sviluppo. È a questo punto pertanto, che può essere
opportuno un tentativo di ricostruzione di quel primitivo ius quiritium, che a
mio giudizio costituisce l'ossatura primitiva di tutta la giurisprudenza
romana, e può darci il segreto di quella dialettica potente, che strinse
insieme le varie parti della medesima. Spero che la bellezza e l'im portanza
grandissima del tema, e la luce, che può derivarne per la spiegazione del
diritto primitivo di Roma, il quale, quanto alle proprie origini, non ha
cessato ancora di essere un grandemistero, valgano a farmi perdonare l'audacia
del tentativo. (1) KUNTZE, Ius extraordinarium der römischen Kaiserzeit.
Leipzig, 1886. (2 ) POMP., Leg. 2, SS 5 e 6, Dig. (1-2). LIBRO IV.
Ricostruzione del primitivo ius quiritium (*). CAPITOLO I. La struttura
organica del ius quiritium ed il concetto del quirite. 323. E opinione
pressochè universalmente adottata, che il primitivo diritto di Roma porti in sè
le traccie della violenza e della forza, e debba essere considerato in ogni sua
parte come il frutto di una evo luzione lenta e graduata, determinata
esclusivamente dalle condizioni economiche e sociali, in cui trovossi il
primitivo popolo romano. Lo studio invece della genesi e della formazione del
ius quiritium, nel momento in cui per opera della costituzione serviana
comincio ad essere comune alle due classi, mi conduce a conclusioni alquanto
diverse. Questo ius quiritium, se nei vocaboli può ancora portare le traccie di
un periodo anteriore di violenza, nella sostanza invece è già il risultato di
una selezione e di un'astrazione potente, intesa da una parte a trascegliere
dal periodo gentilizio quelle istituzioni, (*) Ancorchè l'intento di questo
libro IV sia di isolare in certo modo quella parte del diritto privato di Roma,
che prima riuscì a consolidarsi sotto il nome di ius quiritium, e a costituire
così il nucleo centrale di quella elaborazione giuri dica, che doveva poi
durare per 14 secoli, mi riservo tuttavia anche qui la libertà di seguire
talvolta lo svolgimento logico e storico dei varii istituti giuridici, anche
oltre gli stretti confini del ius quiritium. Il motivo è questo, che anche
nella clas sica giurisprudenza occorrono certe singolarità, le quali, a parer
mio, non potranno mai essere spiegate, quando non siano sorprese alle origini.
Siccome infatti la carat teristica del tutto peculiare del diritto romano
consiste nell'essere il frutto di una elaborazione, che malgrado la sua lunga
durata non abbandono mai intieramente quei metodi e processi, con cui era stata
iniziata; così in esso accade ben soventi, che negli ultimi sviluppi occorrano
certe apparenti singolarità ed anomalie, le quali non sono che una conseguenza
logica di fatti, che si avverarono nel principio della formazione, e
dell'indirizzo con cui questa ebbe ad essere iniziata. 404 - che potevano
accomodarsi alla vita della città, e dall'altra a sce verare l'elemento
giuridico da tutti gli altri punti di vista, sotto cui i fatti sociali ed umani
possono essere considerati. Il suo linguaggio rozzo ma efficace; i suoi
concetti sintetici e comprensivi; le solennità tipiche, in cui esso si
manifesta; la disinvoltura con cui si maneg giano tali solennità e si
trasportano da uno ad un altro negozio giuridico; la coerenza organica delle
sue varie parti sono già la ma nifestazione di una potente logica giuridica, di
cui appare investito il popolo romano fin dai proprii esordii, mediante cui
esso riesce a sceverare dalle proprie tradizioni del passato e dalle condizioni
so ciali, in cui si trova, tutto ciò che in esse havvi di strettamente e di
esclusivamente giuridico, modellandolo in altrettante costruzioni tipiche, che
concentrano in sè l'essenza giuridica dei fatti sociali ed umani. Lo stesso
nostro linguaggio sembra essere inadeguato ad esprimere una selezione di questo
genere, cosicchè ad ogni istante viene ad essere necessario di ricorrere a
vocaboli tolti dalle scienze fisiche, chimiche e naturali, perché è soltanto
nelle naturali forma zioni che possono essere sorprese delle sintesi e delle
analisi, ana loghe a quelle, che occorrono nel primitivo diritto di Roma. In
esso dispiegasi una logica giuridica cosi rigida, cosi geometrica, precisa e
coerente, che anche un giureconsulto, preparato da una lunga edu cazione
giuridica, stenterebbe a giungervi, e la quale può soltanto essere spiegata con
dire che ci troviamo di fronte a un popolo, giu rista per eccellenza, il quale,
guidato dalle proprie attitudini natu rali, esordisce con un capolavoro di arte
giuridica, che può essere considerato come un pegno della perfezione, a cui
esso giungerà più tardi nel suo lavoro legislativo. 324. Il diritto quiritario
infatti toglie dalla realtà il linguaggio ed i concetti primitivi, di cui esso
si vale; ma intanto li isola e li scevera per modo da ogni elemento affine, che
i primitivi concetti giuridici del popolo romano, al pari dei suoi concetti
politici, si pre sentano come altrettante concezioni logiche, e
costruzionigeometriche, che possono poi essere sottoposte a quella logica
astratta, che fu del tutto propria dei giureconsulti romani. Che anzi la logica
giuridica dei giureconsulti romani non si ma nifestò forse mai in modo più
vigoroso e potente, che nel modellare il concetto stesso del quirite e i varii
atteggiamenti, sotto cui il medesimo può essere considerato. Io non dubito
infatti di affermare, che il concetto stesso del quirite, in quanto si
considera come il 405 caput, da cui erompono le varie manifestazioni giuridiche,
deve per sè essere considerato come una concezione giuridica nel senso vero
della parola. Il quirite infatti non è l'uomo quale in effetto esiste, ma è
l'uomo isolato da tutti gli altri suoi rapporti, per essere consi derato sotto
l'aspetto esclusivo di capo di famiglia e di proprietario di terre. È come tale
soltanto, che egli conta nel censo serviano, ed è come tale eziandio, che esso
si presenta nel primitivo ius quiritium. Esso inoltre è anche un'astrazione sotto
un altro aspetto, in quanto che la logica giuridica lo isola da tutti i vincoli
religiosi e morali, a cui nel fatto possa essere sottoposto, e lo concepisce
come fornito di un potere illimitato e senza confini. Essa lo considera come un
pater familias, ancorchè in effetto non abbia figliuolanza, e in quanto è tale,
gli attribuisce i poteri più illimitati. Egli infatti quale capofa miglia ha il
ius vitae et necis sulla moglie, sui figli, sui servi; come proprietario pud
usare ed abusare delle proprie cose; come credi tore può anche appropriarsi il
proprio debitore, venderlo al di là del Tevere e dividerne il corpo, se
concorra con altri creditori; come testatore pud disporre in qualsiasi guisa
delle proprie cose per il tempo per cui avrà cessato di vivere. Col tempo
questa potestà giuridica illimitata potrà apparire eccessiva, in quanto che si
verrà a riconoscere che il quirite potrà anche abusare di essa, come il
magistrato del proprio imperium, ed in allora si cercherà di porre dei limiti
al suo potere come padre, come proprietario, come credi tore, come testatore,
come padrone; ma nel suo erompere primitivo l'uomo, a cui appartiene l'optimum
ius quiritium, è una indivi dualità completa, che sotto l'aspetto giuridico non
subisce limitazione di sorta. Il quirite poi, in base al censo serviano,
riunisce due carat teri: quello cioè di capo di famiglia e di proprietario di
terre, e i medesimi si compenetrano per modo, che i due concetti si vengono
immedesimando l'uno nell'altro, cosicchè, quale padre di famiglia, esso
apparisce come un proprietario, e per essere proprietario deve essere un capo
famiglia; donde consegue, che anche i due vocaboli di familia e di mancipium
possono sostituirsi l'uno all'altro (1). (1) V. in proposito il Voigt, Die XII Tafeln,
II, pag. 10 e 11, note 5 e 6, ove son citati varii passi da cui risulta, che la
familia in personas et in res deducitur. Leg. 195, Dig. (50, 15 ). Cid pure
accade del mancipium, il quale talvolta è preso in significazione così larga da
comprendere non solo le cose, ma anche le persone 406 Nel censo infatti non
comparisce che il caput, in quanto unifica in sè medesimo persone e cose, e in
quanto egli è libero, cittadino, in dipendente nel seno della famiglia. Esso
conta per uno, ma intanto rappresenta molte persone ad un tempo: cosicchè anche
la proprietà, che trovasi posta in suo capo, mentre nel costume appartiene alla
famiglia, sotto il punto di vista giuridico viene invece ad essere considerata
come una proprietà esclusivamente propria del capo di famiglia. Quasi si
direbbe che l'imperium del quirite nella propria casa viene ad essere foggiato
sulmodello stesso del regis imperium per quello che si riferisce alla città.
Esso ha impero sulle cose e sulle persone, al modo stesso che il magistrato ha
l'imperium domimi litiaeque, e l'una ed anche l'altra podestà, sotto il punto
di vista giuridico e politico, non hanno confine, sebbene nella realtà siano
contenute in stretti vincoli dal costume pubblico o privato. Di qui la
conseguenza, che mentre questo è il momento storico, in cui ap parisce più
senza confini il potere del padrone sugli schiavi, quello del marito sulla
moglie, quello del padre sui figli, noi intanto ab biamo tutti gli argomenti
per credere, che fu appunto questo il tempo, in cui fu migliore la condizione
degli schiavi, volontariamente accettata la subordinazione dei figli e della
moglie, e quello in cuiil potere del padre, cosi esorbitante nella sua
configurazione giuridica, nella realtà non ebbe a dar luogo a gravi abusi. Fu
sopratutto in questo primo periodo, che i figli dei servi erano allevati con
quelli del padrone; che le mogli, mentre giuridicamente potevano essere
ripudiate, nel fatto non conoscevano il divorzio; che i figli prova vano la
severità del padre, non tanto nelle pareti domestiche, quanto piuttosto,
allorchè egli investito del pubblico potere giungeva a soffo care gli affetti
del sangue per far rispettare l'imperium, di cuitro vavasi insignito (1).
dipendentidal capo di famiglia, come lo dimostra l'espressione conservataci da
Gellio, secondo cui la mater familias è in manu mancipioque mariti. XVIII, 6,
9. Ciò però non toglie, che il vocabolo familia significasse di preferenza il
complesso delle per sone, e quello di mancipium il complesso delle cose, che
erano soggette al potere del capo di famiglia. Cid apparirà meglio in questo
stesso capitolo, $ 4, in cui si discorrerà appunto del mancipium, e delle sue
varie significazioni. (1) La causa di questo contrasto tra l'ordinamento
giuridico della famiglia e le condizioni reali della medesima sarà meglio posta
in evidenza al cap. 1, § 1°, ove si discorre del ius connubii. Quanto alla
figura del padre di famiglia patriarcale durante il periodo gentilizio, vedi
sopra il nº 94, pag. 119. 407 326. Se non che è ovvio il chiedersi, in qual
modo siasi potuto modellare in modo così vigoroso ed efficace la figura del
quirite. Io non dubito di rispondere che questa concezione dell'uomo sotto
l'aspetto esclusivamente giuridico, se per una parte fu determinata dalle
condizioni economiche e sociali, dall'altra fu anche l'effetto di una potente
astrazione giuridica, compiuta da un popolo con un pro cesso mentale non
diverso da quello, che seguirebbe un giureconsulto moderno. Gli elementi
preesistevano nella organizzazione gentilizia e consistevano nella figura del
capo di famiglia, e nel concetto della proprietà, che a lui apparteneva.
Mediante un lavoro di astrazione, che è famigliare al giureconsulto, i due
concetti di capofamiglia e di proprietario furono staccati dall'ambiente, in
cui si erano for mati, furono isolati da tutti gli altri rapporti di carattere
gentilizio, riguardati attraverso il crogiuolo del censo, in cui persone e cose
dipendevano da un solo caput, e ne eruppe cosi questa figura tipica del quirite,
che è soldato ed agricoltore, capo di famiglia e proprietario, individuo e capo
gruppo, il quale sotto un aspetto è una realtà e sotto un altro è già una
astrazione o concezione giuridica. Lo stesso è a dirsi delle due istituzioni
fondamentali della famiglia e delle proprietà, quali vengono a presentarsi nel
ius quiritium la cui formazione fu determinata dalla costituzione serviana, An
ch'esse sono tratte dalla realtà, e sono due ruderi dell'organizzazione
gentilizia, nel senso vero e proprio della parola, salvo che, traspor tate nel
seno delle città e cosi isolate dall'ambiente, che le circon dava, fanno su chi
le considera un effetto analogo a quello di quei ruderi delle mura serviane,
che circondate da un' aiuola si incon trano nella Via Nazionale di Roma
moderna. Di qui la conseguenza, che anche la proprietà e la famiglia debbono
essere considerate come due costruzioni giuridiche, in quanto che esse non sono
la pro prietà e la famiglia, quali effettivamente esistevano, ma sono il frutto
di un'elaborazione giuridica, per cui l'una e l'altra sono iso late da quegli
elementi, sopratutto religiosi e morali, che nella realtà ne moderavano la
rigidezza. Siccome infatti il quirite, come tale, non è più nè il gentile, nè
il cliente, né il patrizio, nè il plebeo, ma è un capo famiglia, considerato
come padrone assoluto delle cose e delle persone, che da lui dipendono; cosi
l'aureola del buon co stume, del consiglio domestico, del consiglio degli
anziani, delle tradizioni del villaggio, della religione, di cui il padre
antico era il sacerdote, viene a scomparire pressochè intieramente nel diritto
408 quiritario. In questo più non scorgesi, giuridicamente parlando, che un
caput, che è proprietario e padre ad un tempo, e il cui potere (manus) sulle
persone e sulle cose, che ne dipendono (mancipium o familia ), apparisce senza
confini, rendendo cosi possibile l'applicazione di una logica, il cui processo
sarebbe stato ad ogni istante interrotto, se si fosse dovuto tener conto degli
altri vincoli e rapporti, in cui il quirite effettivamente si trovava. 327. Lo
stesso deve pur dirsi di quel carattere, cosi saliente nel di ritto primitivo
di Roma, per cui i poteri sulle persone e sulle cose vengono ad immedesimarsi
l'uno nell'altro, e possono quindi essere in dicati coimedesimivocaboli,
rivendicati nella stessa guisa, e trasmessi col medesimo atto. Anche ciò non
deve ritenersi come indizio, che per i Romani la potestà del padre si
confondesse colla proprietà: ma è unicamente il frutto di una elaborazione giuridica,
in quanto che questi due poteri, dovendo passare per il crogiuolo del censo,
venivano in sostanza a ridursi tutti al concetto del mio e del tuo. Ed a questo
riguardo credo di non esagerare dicendo, che fu una grande ventura per il
diritto romano, che il medesimo fosse cosi costretto a modellare ogni diritto
sopra quello di proprietà, in quanto che non eravi certamente altro concetto,
che potesse meglio acco modarsi a tutte le applicazioni della logica giuridica.
Se questa infatti avesse dovuto applicarsi alle persone, si sarebbe ad ogni
istante inceppata in considerazioni di umanità, mentre spiegandosi in certa
guisa di fronte alle cose potė spingersi a tutte le deduzioni, di cui poteva
essere capace, e per tal modo il diritto potè appa rire in certi casi inumano e
crudele, ma la costruzione giuridica venne ad essere più logica e più coerente.
Cosi deve pure attribuirsi ad una elaborazione giuridica, resa ne cessaria
dalle condizioni, sotto cui patriziato e plebe entravano a far parte della
comunanza, quel concetto, per cui quella proprietà, che nel costume ritenevasi
appartenere alla famiglia, giuridicamente in vece venne ad essere considerata
come spettante ad un individuo, che poteva disporne in qualsiasi guisa. Questo
infatti era il solo modo di combinare il concetto della proprietà famigliare,
che era proprio del patriziato, con quello della proprietà privata ed
individuale, che era la sola, che fosse conosciuta dalla plebe. Fondendosi
insieme, le due formedi proprietà diedero origine a quella singolare
istituzione della proprietà quiritaria, che nel costume si ritiene della
famiglia, e in diritto si considera come esclusivamente propria del padre, per
409 cui tutto ciò, che acquistano gli altri membri della famiglia, a lui solo
appartiene (1). 328. Fermo cosi nelle sue linee generali il concetto
fondamentale del quirite, quale ebbe ad uscire dal crogiuolo del censo
istituito da Servio Tullio, viene ad essere facile il comprendere come i varii
atteggiamenti, sotto cui esso può essere considerato, abbiano potuto essere
scomposti ed analizzati, e abbiano così data origine ad al trettante concezioni
giuridiche foggiate sullo stesso modello. Il quirite infatti costituisce in
certo modo la configurazione giu ridica dell'umana persona, quale allora poteva
essere concepita, e come tale può essere considerato: – o in quanto sta, ossia
nella posizione giuridica (status), che egli tiene nella comunanza quiri tiana:
- o in quanto egli si muove ed agisce, ossia in quanto egli entra in rapporti
con altri quiriti. In quanto sta, ossia in quanto egli tiene uno status, questo
può essere scomposto nei suoi varii elementi, e quindi il quirite viene ad
avere un caput, che comprende tutta la sua capacità giuridica come quirite; una
manus, che inchiude il complesso dei poteri, che gli appartengono ex iure
quiritium; un mancipium, il quale implica parimenti nella sua significazione
primitiva così le persone, che le cose, che da lui dipendono per diritto
quiritario. È poi degno di nota, che tutti questi vocaboli, in cui viene ad
essere racchiusa l'individualità giuridica del quirite, hanno una
significazione mate riale e giuridica, concreta ed astratta ad un tempo. Cosi,
ad esempio, il vocabolo caput, mentre da una parte indica la parte più nobile
ed importante del corpo, dall'altra designa la capacità giuridica poten ziale
del quirite che è come la sorgente di tutti i diritti spettanti al medesimo;
quello dimanus,mentre esprime l'organo mediante cui si esplica la forza e
l'energia fisica dell'uomo, è ad un tempo il sim bolo efficacissimo
dell'attività giuridica che si viene estrinsecando in certi determinati poteri;
e quello infine di mancipium da ma nucaptum, mentre da una parte significa una
cosa, che per essere materialmente afferrata dalla manus, non può sfuggire alla
mede sima, dall'altra indica eziandio lo stato di sottomissione giuridica, in
cui vengono a trovarsi le persone e le cose che da essa dipendono. (1) Questo
carattere speciale della proprietà quiritaria e il modo in cui essa potè
formarsi saranno meglio spiegati nel cap. seg., $ 6, ove si discorre
dell'origine del dominium ex iure quiritium. 410 Questi varii elementi poi,
intrecciandosi fra di loro, costituiscono un tutto organico e coerente; poichè,
tanto nel significato mate riale quanto nel giuridico, la manus viene in certo
modo ad esser e il termine di mezzo fra il caput che la dirige e il mancipium
che dipende dalla medesima. In quanto invece si muove ed agisce, il quirite
viene a contatto coi proprii simili, e quindi le sue estrinsecazioni giuridiche
possono essere richiamate: al connubium, da cuideriva, si può dire, tutto il
diritto, che si riferisce alle persone; al commercium, in cui si com pendiano
tutte le manifestazioni giuridiche, che si riferiscono alle cose; all'actio, da
cui scaturisce tutto quel complesso di proce dure, con cui egli pud far valere
qualsiasi suo diritto: vocaboli anche questi, che hanno pure una significazione
materiale e giuridica ad un tempo. Tutti questi elementi poi, mentre concorrono
a costituire l'organismo del tutto, sono percorsi da un proprio concetto
informa tore, che si viene logicamente svolgendo, e che dà cosi origine a
quella dialettica latente della giurisprudenza romana, colla quale sol tanto si
possono spiegare certe peculiarità del diritto romano. Intanto è da notarsi,
che tutto questo bagaglio del diritto quiri tario è tolto in sostanza dal
periodo gentilizio, perchè già in esso eransi formati i concetti del caput per
indicare il capo del gruppo famigliare o gentilizio, della manus per indicare
il complesso dei suoi poteri, e del mancipium per indicare le cose e le persone
che gli erano soggette; come pure in esso, già si erano preparati i concetti di
connubium, di commercium e di actio. Vi ha però questa differenza, che mentre
questi un tempo indicavano dei rap porti, che intercedevano fra i membri delle
varie genti, ora indi cano invece la posizione speciale, che il quirite prende
nella co munanza quiritaria, ed i varii aspetti sotto cui dispiegasi l'attività
giuridica del quirite nei suoi rapporti cogli altri quiriti (1). Quindi è, che
mentre questi concetti un tempo avevano una significazione, che era determinata
dall'ambiente, in cui si erano formati; ora invece, essendo staccati
dall'ambiente stesso, si cambiano in altrettante forme e concezioni logiche, e
come tali diventano capaci di uno svolgi mento logico e storico compiutamente
diverso, la cui ricostruzione formerà oggetto dei capitoli seguenti. (1) Il
naturale processo, in base a cui venne formandosi un diritto fra le varie
genti, fu spiegato più sopra ai nn. 94 e seg., pag. 117, e quello per cui i
concetti intergentilizii così formati si cambiarono in concetti quiritarii
trovasi descritto al n ° 266. Il quirite nel suo status. § 1. – Il censo
serviano e la genesi dei concetti di caput, manus, mancipium. 329. Anche oggidi
il più arduo problema, che presentino le ori gini del ius quiritium, consiste
nello spiegare come mai il mede simo si trovasse di un tratto isolato da
quell'ambiente religioso e gentilizio, in cui erasi formato, e come esso abbia
potuto prendere le mosse da concetti così sintetici e comprensivi, quali sono
quelli di caput, manus, mancipium. Come mai potè accadere, che quel ius, che
presso le genti patrizie era ancora soverchiato dal fas ed ed avviluppato nel
mos (1), sia pervenuto pressochè di un tratto ad affermare la propria esistenza
e a ricevere uno svolgimento lo gico e storico del tutto distinto da quello
della religione e della mo rale? In qual modo parimenti potè accadere, che un
diritto, il quale, secondo l'attestazione dei giureconsulti, ebbe a formarsi «
necessi tate exigente et rebus ipsis dictantibus », siasi iniziato con sintesi
potenti, che inchiudono in germe tutti i suoi ulteriori svolgimenti? Son note
in proposito le divergenze degli autori e le congetture innumerabili, che
furono poste innanzi, ed è certo assai difficile di giungere ad una
risoluzione, che possa rispondere a tutte le ob biezioni. Persuaso tuttavia,
che per comprendere le istituzioni di un popolo, sia sopratutto indispensabile
di spogliarsi delle idee del tempo, per trasportarsi nell'ambiente e nel
pensiero del popolo, fra cui quelle istituzioni giunsero a formarsi, io ritengo
che il solo modo per giungere a comprendere questa singolare formazione del ius
quiritium e la significazione dei concetti da cui esso parte, sia quello di
ricostrurre in base alle condizioni economiche e sociali, in cui si trovavano
il patriziato e la plebe, quella comunanza quiritaria, (1) Il carattere
eminentemente religioso del diritto primitivo delle genti patrizie fu
dimostrato più sopra, lib. I, cap. V, pag. 90 a 104, discorrendo dei rapporti
fra il mos, il fas e il ius. Il medesimo poi si mantenne ancora durante il
periodo della città esclusivamente patrizia, come lo dimostra l'analisi delle
leges regiae fatta ai nn. 268 a 270, pag. 329 e segg. 412 la cui formazione
ebbe ad essere determinata dalla costituzione e dal censo di Servio Tullio.
330. Credo di avere dimostrato a suo tempo come il patriziato e la plebe,
anteriormente all'epoca serviana, non avessero comuni nè la religione, né i
costumi, nè l'organizzazione gentilizia, nè i connubii, che sono il fondamento
dell'organizzazione domestica. I soli diritti, che la città patrizia avesse
accordati alle plebi circo stanti, non devono neppure essere indicati col nome
di ius com mercii, ma bensi con quello di ius nesi mancipiique; il quale
consisteva nel diritto dei plebei di potersi obbligare vincolando la propria
persona, e di poter disporre di quelle possessioni, che essi tenevano nel
territorio romano (1). È quindi evidente che, se era possibile una comunanza
fra i due ordini, questa nelle origini non poteva avere nè un carattere
religioso e neppure un carattere mo rale, ma poteva solo avere un carattere
esclusivamente economico, giuridico e militare. Ne consegui pertanto, che per
formare questa comunanza venne ad essere necessario di sceverare affatto il
ius, nel senso stretto e rigido della parola, dal fas e dal mos, con cui prima
trovavasi implicato nelle istituzioni delle genti patrizie. Questa selezione
erasi già in parte iniziata col formarsi della città esclusivamente patrizia,
poichè già fin d'allora erasi venuta distin guendo la vita pubblica dalla
privata ed erasi già in parte affie volita l'organizzazione gentilizia (2); ma
la medesima dovette spin gersi ben più oltre coll'accoglimento nel populus di
un elemento, a cui non erasi riconosciuto che il ius neximancipiique. Di qui la
rigidezza singolare, che ebbe ad assumere il ius quiritium, allorchè cominciò
ad essere comune al patriziato ed alla plebe; poichè da quel momento esso venne
ad essere sottratto a quell'au reola religiosa e patriarcale, che dominava il
periodo gentilizio, e fu sottoposto all'impero di una logica del tutto sua
propria. Se non che, anche in tema di diritto, nel senso stretto della pa rola,
non tutte le istituzioni potevano servire di base alla comu (1 ) V., quanto
alla condizione della plebe, il lib. I, cap. IX, pag. 180 a 196, e quanto al
ius nexi mancipiique, spettante alla medesima, il nº 160, pag. 198 e 199, come
pure il nº 287, pag. 351 e 352. (2) Che anche il diritto della città patrizia
supponesse una specie di selezione fra le istituzioni delle varie genti,
operatasi per opera dei collegi sacerdotali e sotto forma di legislazione regia,
fu dimostrato nel libro II, cap. IV, SS 1º, 2º e 3º, pag. 303 a 333. - 413
nanza quiritaria, ma soltanto quelle che in effetto erano comuni ai due ordini,
o che erano tali da rendere possibile un ravvicina mento fra di loro. Quindi
anche in fatto di diritto convenne fare astrazione da tutti quei rapporti, che
per il momento non potevano essere comuni, per fissare lo sguardo su quei
rapporti e su quegli interessi, in base a cui essi potevano partecipare alla
stessa comu nanza. Siccome quindi l'interesse, che avevano il patriziato e la
plebe ad entrare in una stessa comunanza, era sopratutto l'interesse della
comune difesa, così la comunanza quiritaria assunse in que st'epoca un
carattere più esclusivamente militare, che prima non avesse. Siccome parimenti
gli unici rapporti, per cui poteva avve. rarsi un ravvicinamento fra di loro,
erano quelli relativi alla fa miglia unificata sotto il proprio capo, e alla
proprietà spettante alla famiglia stessa, così il ius quiritium comune ai due
ordini cominciò a consolidarsi nella parte relativa alle due istituzioni
fondamentali della proprietà e della famiglia. 331. Di cid è facile persuadersi
quando si considerino le condi zioni rispettive dei due ordini, che dovevano
partecipare alla stessa comunanza. Da una parte eran vi i membri delle gentes
patriciae, i quali ancorchè fossero i fondatori della città, continuavano però
sempre ad essere organizzati per gruppi, sovrapponentisi gli uni agli altri
(famiglie, genti, e tribù gentilizie), come lo dimostra il fatto, che il popolo
primitivo era diviso per curiae, le quali erano appunto for mate ex hominum
generibus. Il patriziato pertanto non aveva in certo modo il concetto della
individualità nello stretto senso della parola, ma solo il concetto dei diversi
gruppi e dei capi che rap presentavano imedesimi. Di questi gruppi poi ilmeno
esteso e il più strettamente unificato era quello della famiglia, fondata sulla
agna zione, e riunita sotto la potestà del padre. - Dall'altra parte in vece
eravi la plebe, la quale, essendo una moltitudine di individui rimasti liberi
dalla clientela, o immigrati da altre città, o traspor tati da popolazioni
conquistate, componevasi invece di individui anche isolati o tutto al più di
famiglie, le quali non erano più strette insieme dal vincolo di agnazione, ma
piuttosto da quello più naturale dell'affinità e della cognazione (1 ). (1)
V.,quanto all'organizzazione gentilizia del patriziato, il lib. I, cap. IV, e
quanto alle condizioni della plebe, il lib. I, cap. IX. 414 Queste differenze
poi, che esistevano fra di loro quanto alla loro organizzazione, si
riflettevano eziandio nelle loro condizioni econo miche. Da una parte infatti
continuava a prevalere presso le gentes patriciae la proprietà collettiva
dell'ager gentilicius o dell'ager compascuus, il che però non impediva che esse
già conoscessero una specie di proprietà famigliare e privata, la quale era
designata col vocabolo di heredium. Questo consisteva nell'assegno, che le
varie gentes facevano sull'ager gentilicius ad ogni gentile, che passando a
matrimonio veniva a fondare una nuova famiglia, ed era a somi glianza di esso,
che secondo la tradizione anche Romolo aveva fatto a ciascuno dei suoi seguaci
un assegno, il quale pur riteneva il nome di heredium. Il medesimo quindi
costituiva in certo modo il patrimonio famigliare, e come tale non poteva
essere alienato senza il consenso degli altri capi di famiglia, ma doveva
invece trasmettersi dai genitori ai figli, e mantenersi per quanto si poteva
indiviso (ercto non cito ); ma intanto, essendo già intestato al capo di
famiglia, cominciava ad avvicinarsi alla proprietà individuale e privata.
Dall'altra invece la plebe, non avendo l'organizzazione gentilizia, non poteva
neppure avere la proprietà collettiva dell'ager gentilicius e dell'ager
compascuus. Di qui conseguiva, che i plebei nel fatto si trovavano stabiliti
sopra certi spazi di suolo, che essi avevano occupato sul territorio romano, o
di cui avevano ottenuto il godimento da qualche gens patricia, o che loro erano
stati as segnati dal re sullo stesso ager publicus. È quindi evidente, che
questi stanziamenti della plebe, essendo una applicazione del ius mancipii alla
medesima accordato, più non potevano essere chia mati col vocabolo di heredia,
poichè questo conteneva ancora l'idea di un patrimonio avito da trasmettersi
agli eredi, ma potevano in vece più acconciamente indicarsi col vocabolo
dimancipia, poichè essi erano state effettivamente manucapti, e perchè fino a
quel punto costituivano piuttosto semplici possessi, che non vere proprietà al
punto di vista gentilizio (1). 332. In questa diversità di condizioni egli è
evidente, che il (1) Quanto al concetto dell'heredium, come forma della
proprietà famigliare nel periodo gentilizio, vedi il nº 56, pag. 70; ma devo
aggiungere, che dettando quelle pagine non aveva ancora ravvisata la differenza
esistente fra l'heredium ed il man cipium, nè aveva cercato di spiegare come
perchè all'heredium del periodo genti lizio fosse sottentrato nel ius quiritium
il concetto di mancipium. - 415 censo, dovendo comprendere i due ordini, non
poteva tener conto che degli elementi, che erano loro comuni. Se il censo
quindi avesse dovuto farsi di soli patrizii, si sarebbe dovuto indicare la
famiglia, la gente e la tribù gentilizia a cui ap partenevano, e avrebbesi così
avuto un censo fondato sulla discen denza, come quello sovra cui dovevano
probabilmente essersi for mate le curiae. Se esso invece avesse dovuto
comprendere i soli plebei, si sarebbe dovuto procedere per capita; poichè fra
essi ve ne erano anche di quelli, che solo avevano il loro caput, e che non
avrebbero potuto indicare la loro vera discendenza. Siccome invece il censo,
come base della nuova comunanza quiritaria, do veva comprendere gli uni e gli altri;
cosi la soluzione fu la più naturale di tutte, quella cioè di dare al censo non
più una base genealogica (ex hominum generibus), che avrebbe potuto compren
dere solo i patrizii ed alcune famiglie plebee, ma bensì una base territoriale
e locale (ex regionibus et locis) (1), che poteva com prendere gli uni e gli
altri, e di censire gli abitanti, non per genti e neppure per famiglie, ma per
capita, attribuendo perd al voca bolo di caput la doppia significazione di
individuo e di capo di quel gruppo famigliare, che era appunto il solo, che
fosse comune al patriziato ed alla plebe. Così pure se si fosse trattato di
censire le proprietà patrizie, si sarebbe dovuto prendere come base la
proprietà collettiva della gens (ager gentilicius), nella quale sarebbero anche
rientrati gli heredia delle singole famiglie; ma volendosi anche censire i
possessi e gli stanziamenti della plebe, convenne di necessità prendere a base
del censimento quella sola forma di proprietà e di possesso, che apparteneva ai
patrizii sotto il nome di heredium, e ai plebei sotto quello di mancipium.
Tuttavia questa proprietà individuale e famigliare ad un tempo, che era comune
ad entrambi gli ordini, non potè più essere indicata acconciamente col vocabolo
di here dium, il quale era pur sempre una istituzione di origine gentilizia, ma
potè esserlo più acconciamente con quello di mancipium, il quale, oltre al
rispondere perfettamente ai concetti di caput e di inanus, aveva anche il
vantaggio di significare al tempo stesso la proprietà e il possesso, e di
esprimere con potente efficacia quel carattere di proprietà esclusiva ed
individuale, che veniva ad assu (1) Gellio, XV, 28, 4. 416 mere quel patrimonio,
che nel censo era intestato ad una deter minata persona. La conseguenza intanto
fu questa, che nella comunanza quiritaria, formatasi in base alla costituzione
ed al censo serviano, mentre il patrizio fu isolato in certo modo dall'ambiente
gentilizio, in cui esso prima si trovava, il plebeo ottenne invece il
riconoscimento ufficiale del possesso, sovra cui esso era stabilito. L'uno e
l'altro comparvero nel censo come quiriti, ossia come capi di famiglia e come
proprietarii di terra; ebbero un complesso di diritti comuni, che prese appunto
il nome di ius quiritium. Così pure la comunanza quiritaria, avendo una base
economica, venne a considerare ogni cosa sotto l'aspetto del mio e del tuo, e
assunse eziandio una impronta emi nentemente militare, che spiega quel
carattere di forza e di vio lenza che è inerente al ius quiritium e si rivela
nei vocaboli e nei simboli da esso adoperati. 333. Pongasi ora, che trattisi di
comprendere in certe rubriche, che si adattino per la formazione del censo,
l'individualità giuridica di questo quirite, e anche oggidi sarebbe forse
difficile di sovrap porre a queste varie rubriche vocaboli più sintetici e
compren sivi e al tempo stesso più esatti e precisi di quelli di caput, manus,
mancipium. Nella categoria del caput verrà il nome del cittadino, libero e sui
iuris, come individuo e come capo di famiglia, e vi saranno le indicazioni del
suo nome, della sua età, della tribù locale a cui appartiene, la cui
indicazione finirà anzi per formar parte delle denominazioni ufficiali del
cittadino romano (1). Nella seconda rubrica invece saranno indicati i poteri,
che a lui ap partengono sulle persone, che entrano a costituire il gruppo, di
cui egli è capo, sulle persone cioè, che siano in manu, in potestate, in
mancipio, e siccome questa enumerazione dovrà naturalmente par tire dalla
moglie, che trovasi sotto la manus, così può spiegarsi come tutti questi poteri
vengano sotto la intitolazione generica di manus. Nella terza categoria infine
comparirà il mancipium, ossia il complesso delle persone e delle cose, che
costituivano il vero patri monio del quirite, in quanto egli era un capo di
famiglia indipen dente e sovrano. (1) Che il nome della tribù, a cui il
cittadino apparteneva, entrasse nelle deno minazioni ufficiali del medesimo,
appare da una quantità grandissima di iscrizioni. V. in proposito il MICHEL, Du
droit de cité romaine, Paris, 1885. 417 Questo mancipium pertanto non potrà più
comprendere nè l'ager gentilicius, come quello che non appartiene al capo di
famiglia, ma alla gente; né le mandrie e gli armenti, che pascolano in questo
ager gentilicius; né eziandio le possessiones, che si possano avere nell'ager
publicus; nè la pecunia circolante, il cui ammontare pud essere variabile e non
si presta ad una constatazione esatta e pre cisa, quale è quella richiesta per
un censo; ma dovrà invece com prendere soltanto quella proprietà, che
costituisse in certo modo il patrimonio normale, costante, e pressochè tipico
di un capo di fa miglia agricola, nelle condizioni economiche e sociali in cui
trova vasi allora il popolo romano. Egli è probabile infatti, per chi tenga
conto della tendenza delle genti italiche a modellare i loro istituti sul
medesimo tipo, che quel mancipium, che doveva figurare nel censo, quale
patrimonio asso luto ed esclusivo del quirite, tendesse nella generalità dei
casi ad essere configurato nella istessa guisa. Per verità se trattavasi
dell'heredium ossia dell'assegno fatto ad un capo di famiglia di gente patrizia,
il medesimo probabilmente doveva consistere in uno spazio dell'ager
gentilicius, che potesse bastare all'abitazione e al sostentamento di lui e
della sua famiglia; ed è certo a somiglianza di questi primitivi assegni, che,
salve le proporzioni, dovettero es sere configurati gli assegni, che le genti
facevano ai clienti, e quelli parimenti che i re facevano alla plebe. Di qui
consegui na turalmente che, facendo astrazione dalla quantità maggiore o mi
nore di iugera, o dall'ampiezza maggiore o minore della domus in città o del
tugurium nel contado, dovette formarsi una configura zione tipica del podere
del quirite. Che anzi non è punto impro babile, che nella formazione del censo,
dovendosi ridurre a categorie generali le cose essenziali, che entravano a
costituire questo man cipium, anche queste fossero raccolte sotto certe
denominazioni ti piche, quali sarebbero quelle di praedia, di praediorum instru
menta (servi, quadrupedes quae dorso collove domantur), di praediorum
servitutes (iter, via, actus, aquaeductus); le quali po terono assai
naturalmente essere indicate col vocabolo complessivo di res mancipii, come
quelle che effettivamente entravano a costi tuire il mancipium (1). (1) Mi
limito qui ad accennare in genere come possa esser nato e siasi svolto
l'importantissimo concetto del mancipium, perchè le molteplici questioni al
riguardo saranno prese più opportunamente in esame in questo stesso capitolo, §
4º, ove si G. Carle, Le origini del diritto di Roma. 27 - 418 334. Intanto una
conseguenza necessaria di questa specie di se lezione del patrimonio, che
apparteneva ad ogni singolo capo di fa miglia, veniva ad essere questa, che le
res mancipii, come quelle che servivano a determinare la posizione di esso
nella comunanza quiritaria, costituissero come una specie di proprietà
privilegiata, che doveva ritenersi appartenere in modo assoluto ed esclusivo al
quirite, a cui trovavasi intestata. Si vengono così a comprendere le
espressioni più antiche di mancipium facere, mancipio dare, mancipio accipere,
le quali dapprima dovettero significare la costi tuzione di una cosa nel
mancipium, e poi anche l'acquistare e il trasmettere una cosa, che fa parte del
mancipium; finchè la fre quenza di questi atti non condusse a creare un vocabolo
apposito, che è quello di mancipare, da cui derivò appunto quello della
mancipatio, la quale venne cosi ad essere il modo proprio ed esclu sivo per
l'alienazione delle res mancipii (1 ). Non conseguiva tuttavia da cid, che non
esistessero altri beni, di cui il cittadino avesse l'effettivo godimento: ma
questi non con tavano nel determinare la sua posizione di quirite, non
entravano a costituire il suo contributo alla comunanza quiritaria, e come tali
non erano dapprima oggetto di proprietà assoluta ed esclusiva, nelvero senso
della parola: essi formavano piuttosto oggetto di uso e di godimento, ed erano
compresi genericamente in una categoria ne gativa, che più tardi fu denominata
delle res nec mancipii, le quali perciò potevano essere alienate collasemplice
traditio. Può dirsi pertanto, che il mancipium fu in certo modo la prima pro
prietà ufficialmente constatata del cittadino romano, fuori della quale poteva
esservi uso o godimento, ma non proprietà nel senso vero della parola e al
p semplice traditio. Può dirsi pertanto, che il mancipium fu in certo modo
la prima pro prietà ufficialmente constatata del cittadino romano, fuori della
quale poteva esservi uso o godimento, ma non proprietà nel senso vero della
parola e al punto di vista quiritario. È poi questa se parazione, che a causa
del censo si venne operando fra l'intesta zione ufficiale della proprietà di
una cosa, e l'effettivo godimento di essa, che ci spiega come negli antichi
autori si contrappongano tratterà ex professo del mancipium e della distinzione
delle res mancipii e nec mancipii. L'idea che la distinzione delle res mancipië
e nec mancipii dovesse avere qualche attinenza col censo Serviano ebbe già ad
essere enunciata dal PUTTENDORF, dal LANGE, dalWANGERON, dal Kuntze, ed è anche
seguìta presso di noi dal SERAFINI, Istituz., Firenze, 1881, § 21. Vedi lo
Squitti, Resmancipi e nec mancipi, Napoli, 1885, pag. 51, gli autori ivi
citati, e gli argomenti che egli adduce contro questa opinione, quale ebbe ad
essere fino ad ora formulata. (1) Cfr. BONFANTE, Res mancipi e nec mancipi,
Roma 1888, pag. 90. 9 419 talvolta i concetti dimancipium e quelli di usus
fructus (1), e come più tardi abbia potuto accadere, che una persona avesse
sopra una cosa il nudum ius quiritium, mentre un'altra invece ne aveva l'ef
fettivo godimento (in bonis ). È poi facile a comprendere come questa posizione
privilegiata, in cui venne ad essere collocato il mancipium, abbia anche
cooperato efficacemente a dissolvere la proprietà collettiva dell'ager
gentilicius, e con essa a dissolvere eziandio l'organizzazione gentilizia, la
quale venne in certo modo ad essere senza base, allorchè manco del suo
fondamento economico. Ogni gens patricia infatti, se volle avere una quantità
di suffragii anche nelle centurie, ove fini per concentrarsi la somma del
pubblico potere, dovette affrettarsi a fare degli assegni di terra ai proprii membri
non solo, ma anche ai proprii clienti e per tal modo gli agri gentilicii
vennero spartendosi, ed all '« ercto non cito », che indicava l'indivisione del
patrimonio famigliare nel periodo gentilizio, sottentrò il principio già
riconosciuto dalle XII Tavole, secondo cui altri non può essere costretto a
rimanere in comunione suo malgrado: « si erctum ciet, arbitros tres dato » (2
). 335. Così spiegato il censo serviano, viene a conseguirne che se vogliasi
conoscere la vera posizione del quirite, non come uomo, ma come membro della
comunanza quiritaria, sarà nelle tabulae censoriae, che a lui si riferiscono,
che dovrà essere cercato il suo vero status. Quindi se trattisi di un
cittadino, libero e sui iuris, ma senza potestà famigliare e senza patrimonio,
egli sarà bensi un caput, ma, non avendo che quello, sarà un capite census, e
sarà (1) Questo contrapposto occorre più volte nelle epistole di CICERONE, e
fra le altre volte in una lettera ad Curium, VII, 30, 2 ove scrive: « Cuius
(Attici) quando « proprium te esse scribis mancipio et nexo, meum autem usu et
fructu, contentus « isto sum. Id enim est cuiusque proprium, quo quisque
fruitur atque utitur »; il che significava in sostanza, che egli preferiva al
dominio ufficiale su Curio (man. cipium et nexum ), che spettava ad Attico, il
godimento effettivo (usus et fructus ) della sua conversazione. Altre volte
però questo contrapposto ha una significazione diversa, come nel bel verso di
LUCR., III, 969: « vita mancipio nulli datur, omnibus usu », ove mancipium si
contrappone ad usus, in quanto significa una cosa, che ci appartiene a
discrezione, in guisa da poterne usare ed abusare, ed indica così il potere
illimitato ed esclusivo, che competeva sulmancipium. Cfr. BONFANTE, op. cit.,
pag. 92, nota 2, e pag. 96, nº 2, e gli altri passi ivi citati. (2 ) Secondo la
ricostruzione del Voigt, op. cit., I, pag. 712, tale sarebbe stato il tenore
della legge 16, della tavola V. 420 solo molto tardi, che la repubblica si
contenterà di accettarlo nella formazione del proprio esercito. Che se egli,
pur non avendo il patrimonio richiesto per entrare nelle classi e centurie,
abbia tut tavia qualche sostanza (1500 assi) ed una prole, che può crescere a
benefizio della repubblica e che può interessarlo per essa, egli figu rerà nel
censo colla prole stessa e colla manus, che gli appartiene sulla medesima, e
sarà cosi nella classe dei proletarii, la quale è già in condizione meno umile,
poichè in condizioni difficili potrà far parte, se non del vero esercito,
almeno di una specie di milizia raccogli ticcia (militia tumultuaria ), che
sarà armata a spese della repub blica (1). Infine se anche per ciò, che si
riferisce al mancipium, egli giunga a quella misura, che è necessaria per
essere ammesso nelle classi e nelle centurie, egli verrà ad essere adsiduus o
locuples, e secondo il valore maggiore o minore del suo mancipium potrà essere
collocato in una delle cinque classi, che formano il vero po pulus romanus
quiritium. Queste diverse categorie verranno poi ad essere così distinte fra di
loro, che ancora nelle XII Tavole per un adsiduus convenuto in giudizio per un
debito, dovrà rispon dere un altro adsiduus, mentre per il proletario potrà
rispondere chicchessia: « adsiduo vindex adsiduus esto; proletario, iam civi,
quis volet vindex esto »; ed è solo più tardi che, secondo l'atte stazione di
Gellio, « proletarii et adsidui evanuerunt, omnisque illa XII Tabularum
antiquitas consopita est » (2). Tutto ciò intanto spiega come dalle stesse
tavole censuarie si po tesse desumere lo status generalis del quirite sia come
individuo, che come capo di famiglia e proprietario. Siccome tuttavia, accanto
alle qualificazioni generali del capo gruppo, trovavansi pure nel censo le
qualificazioni speciali di pater familias, mater familias, di liberi, di servi,
di sui iuris, di alieni iuris, così anche queste varie gradazioni dello stato
giuridico, senza essere create dal censo, furono tuttavia nel medesimo
delineate, e per tal modo esso cooperd eziandio a svolgere e a precisare,
accanto al concetto generale del quirite come tale, anche il concetto degli
stati speciali, che una persona rappresentava nel gruppo a cui apparteneva. (1)
Questa condizione dei capite censi e dei proletarii, riguardo al servizio mili
tare, ci è attestata espressamente da GELLIO, XVI, 10, $$ 10 a 15. Egli poi,
citando un passo di Sallustio, direbbe che i capite censi non furono arruolati,
che da C. Mario nella guerra contro i Cimbri, o in quella contro Giugurta. (2 )
Gellio, XI, 6, 10, 8. Che se alle cose premesse si aggiunga, che il censo
all'epoca serviana fu il documento ufficiale dello stato del cittadino, il
quale serviva a determinare la sua posizione come contribuente, come cit tadino
e come soldato ad un tempo, per guisa che la sola iscrizione nel censo poteva
valere per la manomissione di un servo, sarà fa cile il comprendere come esso
abbia potuto in parte conferire a determinare il linguaggio sintetico ed
astratto, da cui prese le mosse il ius quiritium, ed il processo con cui esso
vennesi elaborando. Esso infatti fu uno dei mezzi più potenti, mediante cui
l'individualità giuridica del cittadino fu isolata da tutti gli elementi
estranei al diritto, ed il quirite fu sottratto all'ambiente gentilizio in cui
prima si trovava, ed obbligato a fermare il suo sguardo sovra quei rapporti che
comparivano nel censo. Esso parimenti fu una delle cause per cui il ius.
quiritium, che venne elaborandosi su questa trama pri mitiva, perdette di un
tratto quell'aureola religiosa, che circondava le istituzioni delle genti
patrizie, e potè essere svolto con una rigi dezza e con una logica astratta,
che sarebbero certo incomprensi bili, quando non si conoscesse la causa, da cui
poterono essere de terminate. Con ciò non intendo già affermare, che i
concetti, da cui prese le mosse il ius quiritium, siano stati creati dal censo,
poichè ho dimostrato invece che essi già preesistevano; ma solo di provare, che
il censo servi a dare loro una configurazione esatta e precisa; a separarli
nettamente gli uni dagli altri; a fare in guisa che ciascuno avesse
un'esistenza propria e distinta, an corchè fra tutti concorressero a costituire
una sola individualità giuridica. Fu in questo modo, che al punto di vista
quiritario ogni gruppo apparve in certo modo unificato sotto il proprio capo;
che tanto il diritto sulle persone che quello sulle cose nel l'elaborazione
giuridica si ridusse ad una questione di mio e di tuo; che ciascun gruppo,
essendo per dir cosi racchiuso in una cate goria determinata, ebbe un'esistenza
cosi distinta da tutti gli altri gruppi, che i membri dell'uno non potevano
promettere nè stipu lare per quelli dell'altro; che infine anche le varie
membra del quirite si vennero come dislogando le une dalle altre, e poterono
ricevere ciascuno un proprio sviluppo, dando così occasione a quel
l'automatismo di concetti e di istituti, che è uno dei caratteri più salienti
del diritto romano. Intanto questo sguardo generale ai caratteri peculiari
della co munanza quiritaria, quale si formò nell'epoca serviana, e al censo che
servi di base alla medesima, ci preparerà la via per ricostruire 422 la storia
primitiva dei concetti fondamentali di questa, che può a ragione chiamarsi la
parte statica del ius quiritium, in quanto fu in parte determinata da una delle
prime applicazioni della sta tistica per la constatazione del numero, della
forza e della ricchezza di un popolo (1). § 2. – Il concetto del caput e la
teoria della capitis diminutio. 337. Chi volesse cercare le prime origini del
concetto di caput, dovrebbe forse riportarsi col pensiero a quell'epoca, in cui
i fonda tori della città contavano dai capi i proprii greggi ed armenti; nè
sarebbe a farne le meraviglie dalmomento, che essi non dubitavano di chiamare
ovilia quei recinti, in cui raccoglievansi le centurie e le classi per dare il
proprio voto nei comizii. Parmi tuttavia più verosimile, che il vocabolo di
caput dovesse, nel periodo gentilizio anteriore alla formazione della città,
avere quella significazione, che tuttora conserva presso le popolazioni, che si
trovano nelle stesse condizioni sociali, per cui esso indica un capo di gruppo,
quella per sona cioè, che avendo preminenza su tutti quelli, che da essa di
pendono e che la circondano, pud essere considerata come il rap presentante, in
cui si unifica il gruppo stesso. Questo vocabolo poi, trapiantato nel censo
serviano, viene ad indicare colui, che conta per uno nel censo, e conserva cosi
un'analogia colla significazione anteriore, in quanto che il medesimo, pur
essendo un individuo, unifica però in sè stesso le persone e le cose che ne
dipendono. Se per tanto altri non abbia che il proprio caput e manchidi una
sostanza valutabile nel censo stesso, verrà ad essere un capite census; se
invece abbia solo una sostanza, che giunga ai 1500 assi e conti so. pratutto
per la prole, che potrà produrre per la repubblica, sarà un proletarius; se
infine abbia una sede fissa, e sostanze sufficienti per (1) A scanso di ogni
malinteso, devo qui dichiarare che il concetto, che qui ap pare come direttivo
nella ricostruzione della parte statica del ius quiritium, non fu un
presupposto, dal quale io sia partito, ma fu il risultato ultimo, a cui mi con
dussero pazienti e minute elucubrazioni intorno ai singolari caratteri con cui
esso si presenta. Questo paragrafo pertanto fu l'ultimo ad essere scritto, ma
ho creduto di premetterlo; perchè esso, a mio avviso, agevola al lettore la
comprensione di ciò che verrà dopo. Ciò valga anche a farmi perdonare, se per
avventura occorra qualche ine vitabile ripetizione. 423 collocarlo nelle classi
e per assicurare la città della assiduità di lui a compiere le proprie
obbligazioni di cittadino e di soldato ad un tempo, verrà ad essere chiamato
adsiduus o locuples (1). In ogni caso, per avere integro il proprio caput e per
poter contare per uno nel censo, conviene essere libero, cittadino, e sui iuris
nel seno della famiglia; come lo dimostra il fatto, che se altri abbia un
figlio, che per aver raggiunta l'età di 17 anni debba già entrare nelle classi
e nelle centurie, non sarà esso che conterà per uno, ma sarà invece il padre,
che verrà ad essere un duicensus, in quanto che egli viene ad essere censito
con un'altra persona, cioè col proprio figlio: « duicensus dicebatur cum altero
id est cum filio, census » (2 ). 338. È quindi facile il comprendere comefosse
facile il passaggio dalla significazione materiale del caput alla
significazione giuridica di esso, chiamando col vocabolo di caput il complesso
delle condi zioni richieste per figurare nel censo, ossia lo stato generale
della persona. In tal modo il vocabolo di caput cessa di indicare questo o
quell'individuo in particolare, per trasformarsi in una concezione logica ed
astratta (persona ), la quale, ancorchè ricavata dalla realtà, può servire ad
indicare il complesso delle condizioni richieste, accid altri possa avere la
capacità giuridica quiritaria. Una volta poi, che il caput venne cosi ad essere
cambiato in una concezione astratta, il medesimo potè essere assoggettato ad
una specie di analisi o di scomposizione dei varii elementi, che entravano a
costituirlo. Tali elementi erano la libertas, la civitas e la qualità di sui
iuris nel seno della famiglia (3). Di qui la teoria della capitis diminutio,
che non si ricavò esclusivamente dai fatti, ma si svolse sulla concezione
logica del caput; come lo dimostra il fatto, che anche l'emancipato, anche
l'arrogato, sebbene in sostanza vengano talvolta a migliorare (1) Quanto
all'etimologia di questi vocaboli vedi il $ prec., nº 335. (2 ) V. Festo, vº
duicensus; Bruns, Fontes, pag. 337. (3) V. quanto al concetto di caput, Herzog,
Gesch. und Syst., I, pag. 997; il KRÜGER, Geschichte der capitis diminutio,
Breslau, 1887, $ 5 “, pag. 49 a 67, ove prende in esame il concetto di caput
nei diversi autori moderni, sopratutto germa nici. Egli poi sembra ritenere,
che il concetto di caput siasi venuto formando gra datamente. Ritengo invece,
che il diritto romano anche in questo prorompa da una sintesi potente, a cui
solo più tardi sottentrò quell'analisi, che diede poi origine alla teoria della
capitis diminutio. Il caput quindi dapprima appartenne solo all'uomo libero,
cittadino, e sui iuris; e fu solo più tardi, che anche il figlio di famiglia si
considerò avere un caput. 424 la propria posizione, finiscono tuttavia per
subire una capitis dimi nutio (1 ). Che anzi questa logica giuridica dovrà
anche applicarsi al cittadino, che sia fatto prigioniero di guerra, e piuttosto
che venir meno alla medesima si cercherà di supplirvi colla finzione di
postliminio (2 ) Intanto sono tre gli elementi del caput, e questi vengono
l'uno dopo l'altro in base alla loro importanza. Quindi la perdita della
libertas costituisce la maxima capitis diminutio, la perdita della civitas la
media, e la mutazione di stato nel seno della famiglia la minima. Ciascuno poi
di questi elementi dà origine ad una di stinzione che vi corrisponde; donde le
distinzioni fra liberi e servi, fra cives e peregrini, fra persone sui iuris e
le persone alieni (1) Gaio, Comm., I, 160-64. Secondo il Krüger, op. cit., pag.
5 a 21, ed altri autori germanici da lui citati, la teoria della capitis
diminutio avrebbe avuto uno svolgimento storico, nel senso che la prima a
delinearsi sarebbe stata la mi nima capitis diminutio, sul cui modello si
sarebbe poi foggiata la magna capitis diminutio, che fu poi divisa in maxima e
media capitis diminutio. Ritengo anch'io, che questa istituzione dovette avere
uno svolgimento storico,ma nel senso che come fu sintetico il concetto
primitivo di caput, così la primitiva capitis diminutio dovette comprendere
qualsiasi avvenimento, per cui altri cessasse di tare come un caput. Quindi la
perdita della libertà, quella della cittadinanza e l'adrogatio per cui altri
cessava di essere sui iuris, dovettero costituire la capitis diminutio, che venne
poi distinguendosi nelle sue varie specie. Sarà poi sempre un problema il
determinare come mai l'emancipatio potesse costituire una capitis diminutio, e
si comprende come il Savigny, Traité de droit romain, trad. Guenoux, II, pag.
66, quasi voglia esclu derla dalla vera capitis diminutio; ma questa
singolarità potrà essere capita quando si ritenga, che nel censo primitivo ogni
famiglia sotto il suo capo costituiva un gruppo, e quindi anche
l'emancipazione, facendo uscire quell' individuo dal gruppo, costituiva, come
dice Gajo, una « prioris status permutatio », la quale era anche compresa nella
significazione larga di capitis diminutio. Del resto l'emancipatio sotto un
certo aspetto produceva anche un deterioramento nello status dell' emancipato,
poichè nel diritto primitivo questi perdeva ogni diritto di successione di
fronte al gruppo, da cui esso era uscito. Intanto ciò serve eziandio a spiegare
quella singolarità del diritto romano, in virtù di cui la capitis diminutio fa
perdere soltanto i diritti fondati sull'agnazione, e non quelli provenienti
dalla cognazione, poichè quella teoria fu una creazione del ius quiritium e del
ius civile, e come tale non poteva produrre effetti, che al punto di vista del
diritto civile, per la ragione appunto detta da Gajo, Comm., I, 158: « civilis
ratio civilia quidem iura corrumpere potest, naturalia vero non potest »;
distinzione questa, che nell'epoche primitive non poteva esservi, ma cominciò a
formarsi quando comparve il dualismo fra il ius civile ed il ius gentium, a cui
sottentrò più tardi il ius naturale. (2) È nota in proposito la finzione della
legge Cornelia de iure postliminii. Cfr. Voigt, XII Tafeln, I, pag. 299 e 300.
425 - iuris, le quali vengono ad essere fondamentali e servono di punto di
partenza anche ai giureconsulti classici, come lo dimostrano le Isti tuzioni di
Gaio. Che anzi, una volta adottato questo metodo, si po terono anche attuare
delle posizioni giuridiche intermedie, come quella che è rappresentata dal ius
latii, e queste si poterono applicare tanto ai popoli, ai quali non si voleva
accordare il completo ius quiritium, quanto eziandio ai servi affrancati, i
quali, invece di es sere posti senz'altro nella condizione degli altri cives,
erano invece collocati nella condizione di latini iuniani (1). Certo tutta
questa teoria non potè svilupparsi di un tratto; ma intanto è con Servio, che
si pose il vocabolo ed il concetto infor matore della medesima, e si iniziò
così quel processo logico, che de terminò poi l'elaborazione progressiva.
Questa poi si spinse fino tale da distinguere fra lo stato generale della
persona e le condizioni speciali, in cui essa può trovarsi; donde ne provennero
le determina zioni giuridiche speciali del pater familias, del filius familias,
della mater familias, che distinguesi dall'uxor. Che anzi ciascuno di questi
stati speciali venne eziandio a convertirsi in una conce zione astratta, per
modo che una persona poteva essere padre senza aver figli, essere tenuto come
figlio, ancorchè effettivamente fosse padre, essere riguardata come figlia,
ancorchè in effetto fosse moglie, poichè tutto dipendeva dal punto di vista
giuridico, sotto cui la per sona veniva ad essere considerata (2 ). (1) Per tal
modo mentre prima non eravi che una specie di libertas se ne ven nero creando
varie gradazioni, cioè quella dei libertini, che erano cives romani, quella dei
latini, e quella infine dei dediticii; altra prova questa, che il concetto pri
mitivo è sempre sintetico, mentre le suddistinzioni compariscono più tardi. V.
GAJO, Comm., I, 10. (2 ) Ciò è detto espressamente da ULPIANO, Leg., 195, § 2,
dig. (50, 16) ove dice del pater familias: « recteque hoc nomine appellatur,
quamvis filium non habeat; non enim solam personam eius, sed et ius
demonstramus »; il che vuol dire, che nel qualificarlo come tale, il
giureconsulto si poneva al punto di vista giuridico. Era poi nello stesso modo,
che la moglie in manu si riteneva figlia del marito, e simili. Ciò mi
indurrebbe alquanto a modificare la teoria accettata intorno alla fictiones
nell'antico diritto. Tali fictiones dal SUMNER -MAINE, Ancien droit, pag. 25 e
dal Juering, Ésprit de droit romain, IV, p. 295, sono in certo modo ritenute
come alterazioni della realtà dei fatti, a cui si ricorre per modificare il
diritto già esi stente. Se ciò è vero delle finzioni, che poifurono introdotte
dal diritto pretorio, non può dirsi delle fictiones del primitivo ius quiritium.
Queste, come lo dice la stessa etimologia da fingere nel senso di foggiare,
modellare, fanno parte dell' ars iura condendi, e sono un mezzo per completare
una costruzione giuridica. 426 339. Quando poi venne ad essere cosi svolta la
concezione giu ridica del caput, era naturale che la medesima potesse essere
con siderata indipendentemente da colui, al quale essa si riferiva, e che fosse
così riguardata come una specie di persona e quasi ma schera giuridica, che
poteva essere anche sovrapposta non solo ad uomini realmente esistenti, ma
eziandio a quegli enti giuridici, i quali « etiam sine ullo corpore iuris
intellectum habent »: donde la co struzione delle persone giuridiche (1). Che
anzi si va anche più oltre e per quell'immedesimarsi che è proprio di
quest'epoca fra i diritti delle persone e quelli sulle cose, anche la proprietà
quiritaria può essere considerata, o in quanto è perfetta e senza limitazione
(er optimo iure quiritium ), o in quanto può subire delle diminuzioni, le quali
verranno ad essere designate col vocabolo di servitutes, perchè anch'esse, al
pari della servitù riguardo alle persone, scemano e di minuiscono quella
perfetta posizione giuridica, in cui trovasi la proprietà del fondo, allorchè
non abbia subito limitazione di sorta (2 ). Si comprende infine come spinta
fino a questo punto l'elabora zione del concetto del caput, la medesima sia una
costruzione giu ridica, che può anche stare da sè e svolgersi per conto proprio,
secondo che esige la logica informatrice dei varii elementi, che en trano a
costituirla. Che anzi questo caput e lo stato giuridico, che ne dipende, potrà
anche essere trasportato da una ad un'altra per sona. Quindi è facile a
spiegarsi come il caput dapprima non ap partenesse che al capo di famiglia, e
poi fosse attribuito ad ogni cittadino, e per ultimo all'uomo libero; nel qual
trapasso la logica giuridica non fa che rinunziare successivamente ad uno dei
tre ele menti, che costituivano il primitivo stato generale della persona. Essa
comincia quindi a rinunziare alla qualità di sui iuris, e viene (1) Tale
essendo il processo seguito dalla giurisprudenza romana nella formazione del
concetto di persona, la famosa questione intorno all'esistenza della persona
giu ridica in diritto romano può essere risolta nel senso che essa deve
ritenersi come una fictio iuris, attribuendo però a questo vocabolo la
significazione sopra accennata di una costruzione giuridica modellata su quella
della persona fisica, ma limitata solo a quella categoria dei diritti della
persona fisica, che poteva avere una base nella realtà; donde la conseguenza,
che queste persone hanno il diritto ai beni, ma non possono avere i diritti di
famiglia. Cfr. Savigny, Traité de droit romain, II, pag. 234 e segg. (2) Questo
svolgimento pressochè parallelo del concetto della persona e della pro prietà
libera da qualsiasi vincolo sarà posto in maggior luce in questo stesso capi
tolo, § 5, discorrendo del dominium ec iure quiritium. 427 ad essere capace di
diritto ogni cittadino, ancorchè non sia capo di famiglia; poi rinunzia
indirettamente a quella di civis, in quanto che la civitas finisce per essere
estesa a tutti i sudditi dell'impero, e viene ad essere persona ogni uomo
libero; ma la logica romana non potè ancora fare a meno della libertas per
accordare il caput, e quindi solo l'uomo libero fu dalla medesima considerato
come capace di diritti e di obbligazioni. Nè è il caso di fargliene colpa,
perchè la logica romana si basava sui fatti, e la schiavitù, finchè durò il
Romano Impero, fu una istituzione comune a tutte le genti (1). Cid perd non
tolse, che il concetto del caput o della persona, quale era stato elaborato dai
Romani, potesse più tardi essere trasportato anche all'uomo come tale, perchè
esso era una costruzione logica, la quale, foggiata dapprima sulla realtà dei
fatti, erasi poi staccata da essi, e poteva così ricevere delle nuove
applicazioni. S 3. Il concetto di manus e le sue principali distinzioni. 340.
Può darsi benissimo, che l'antichissimo vocabolo dimanus significasse un tempo
la forza effettiva dell'uomo, in quanto sottopone a sè stesso uomini e cose,
ossia la forza del vincitore, che si impone al vinto, o il potere dell'uomo,
che doma e addomestica gli animali. È tuttavia più probabile, che questo
vocabolo nel periodo gentilizio significasse già il potere effettivo, di cui
ciascun capo poteva disporre, nei conflitti e nelle lotte coi capi delle altre
famiglie e genti, della qual primitiva significazione potrebbero ancora
trovarsi le traccie nel nostro vocabolo di masnada. La manus invece nelius qui
ritium viene già a cambiarsi anch'essa in una concezione giuridica ed astratta,
che comprende il complesso dei poteri, che appartengono ad una persona nella
sua qualità di quirite. Come il vocabolo di caput indica per cosi esprimersi la
capacità potenziale del quirite: cosi l'estrinsecazione effettiva di questa
potenza sulle persone e cose (1) Il Bruns, Geschichte und Quellen des röm.
Rechts (in HOLTZEND., Encyclop., I, pag. 105 ), ebbe a dire con ragione, che il
più alto concepimento del diritto ro mano consiste nell'avere riconosciuto in
ogni uomo libero la capacità astratta didiritto. Cid è vero; ma vuolsi
aggiungere, che il diritto romano vi pervenne a gradi, e ri conobbe questa
piena capacità prima al capo famiglia, poi al civis, e da ultimo all'uomo
libero. Cfr. BRUGI, Le cause intrinseche della universalità del diritto ro
mano, Prolus., Palermo, 1886, pag. 8. 428 che ne dipendono viene ad essere
designata col vocabolo di manus (1). È questo il motivo, per cui la manus viene
a comparire in tutte le manifestazioni, che si riferiscono al diritto
quiritario. Se essa afferra qualche cosa nell'intento di acquistarvi sopra la
proprietà ex iure quiritium viene ad aversi la manu capio; se essa riven dica
qualche cosa che spetta al quirite da altri che lo possegga, abbiamo la
vindicatio e la manuum consertio: se essa lascia uscire qualche cosa dal
proprio potere quiritario, abbiamo la manumissio e la emancipatio; se essa
infine afferra il debitore condannato per trascinarlo nel carcere privato
abbiamo la manus iniectio. Questa manus simbolica non è però sempre inerme, ma
talvolta compare munita della lancia od asta quiritaria, che trovasi
simboleggiata nella vindicta, la quale serve come modo tipico per la manomis
sione dei servi; nella festuca, il cui uso si mantiene nell’actio sa cramento;
nell'hasta, sotto cui si mette all'incanto il bottino fatto in guerra, e che si
infigge dinanzi al centumvirale iudicium. Questo potere giuridico, sintetico e
comprensivo, subisce poi anche l'influenza del censo serviano, e quindi viene
negli inizii ad essere modellato sul concetto del mio e del tuo, per modo che
così il potere sulla moglie, che quello sui figli, che quello sui servi e sulle
persone quae sunt in causa mancipii appariscono foggiati sul modello della
proprietà, sebbene non sia lecito dubitare, che essi nel costume pre (1 ) La
generalità degli scrittori è oggi concorde nell'ammettere, che dei varii vo
caboli per significare il potere giuridico spettante al quirite il più antico
sia quello di manus. Tale è l'opinione del Sumner Maine, del Voigt, del
PADELLETTI, ed essa trova anche un fondamento nell'analogia fra la manus dei
Romani e il mundium dei Germani. La questione sta piuttosto in vedere se il
vocabolo dimanus comprenda solo i poteri sulle persone, compresi anche i servi,
oppure anche il potere sulle cose. Egli è certo a questo riguardo, che i
giureconsulti classici dànno al vocabolo di manus il significato di potere
sulle persone e considerano questo vocabolo come un sinonimo di potestas.
Tuttavia io riterrei probabile, che il vocabolo dimanus in una signifi cazione
del tutto primitiva potesse anche comprendere il potere sulle cose, e ciò per
il semplice motivo, che altrimenti nel diritto antico non vi sarebbe stato
vocabolo per significare la proprietà e il dominio. È vero che alcuni dicono,
che questo voca bolo primitivo sarebbe quello dimancipium: ma miriservo di
dimostrare a suo tempo, che questo vocabolo significò piuttosto le cose
soggette al potere, che non il potere una spettante sulle medesime. In ogni
caso, se al vocabolo di mancipium si vuol dare etimologia è necessità di darvi
quella di manu-captum, e in tal caso la manus comparirebbe ugualmente per
significare l'assoggettamento di una cosa al potere della persona. Cfr. Voigt,
XII Tafeln, II, $ 79; BONFANTE, Res mancipi e nec mancipi, pag. 100, nota 1;
Longo, La mancipatio, Firenze, 1887, pag. 3, nota 4. 429 sentavano delle
differenze e dei temperamenti. Così pure, sotto il punto di vista giuridico,
nulla hanno di proprio nè la moglie, nè i figli, né i servi, e tutto ciò che
essi acquistano va al marito, al padre, al padrone, perchè è lui il vero
quirite e quegli che conta nel censo. Sarà poi una conseguenza di questa logica
giuridica, che se il dipendente rechi un danno, il capo di famiglia potrà
addive nire alla noxae datio; che se alcuno si ribellerà al suo potere, gli
spetterà un ius coercendi, che potrà giungere fino al ius vitae ac necis; e se
alcuna delle persone, che da esso dipendono, verrà ad essergli sottratta, egli
potrà proporre percid quella stessa actio furti od actio exhibendi, che
potrebbe da lui essere proposta per una cosa, di cui sia stato derubato. 341.
Dalmomento poi che la manus costituisce così una concezione giuridica, si
comprende che anche ad essa siasi applicata quella scom posizione, che ebbe già
a dispiegarsi quanto al caput. Si spiegano così le iniziali conservateci da Valerio
Probo, secondo cui il potere giuridico del quirite verrebbe a suddividersi
nella manus, che resta a significare il potere del marito sulla moglie, nella
potestas, che significa il potere del padre sui figli, e nel mancipium, che qui
sembra indicare il potere sulle persone quae sunt in mancipii causa.
Quest'ultimo vocabolo tuttavia, più che un aspetto del potere quiri tario,
sembra indicare piuttosto il complesso delle persone e delle cose, che
dipendono dal potere spettante al quirite; come lo dimostra la circostanza, che
il medesimo dai giureconsulti non è mai adoperato con significazione attiva, ma
sempre con significazione passiva (1). (1) Basta per ciò osservare, chementre
nei giureconsulti si incontrano le espressioni habere manum, potestatem,
dominium, non occorre però mai l'espressione habere mancipium, ma sempre quella
habere in mancipio: poichè quest'espressione di man cipium, derivando da
manu-captum, significa bensì la cosa soggetta, ma non può si gnificare il
potere sulla medesima. Io ritengo, che questa inesatta significazione data al
vocabolo mancipium sia stata una causa dei gravi dubbii ed incertezze nell' ar
gomento. Così, ad esempio, non potrei accettare l'opinione, che mancipium sia
stato il primo vocabolo con cui si indicò il dominium ex iure quiritium; ciò
sarebbe come dire che i vocaboli di praedium, fundus significassero il diritto
di proprietà, mentre invece indicano la cosa, che ne forma l'oggetto. L'unico
passo, che suol essere citato per far significare a mancipium un potere, è
quello di GELLIO, XVIII, 6, 9, ove si parla della mater familias in manu,
mancipioque mariti, ma anche questo dimostra, che anche la moglie era talora
considerata come in mancipio, e conferma così la significazione passiva del
vocabolo. Se dovette quindi esservi un vocabolo primitivo, che potè indicare il
potere del proprietario, esso fu quello di manus, che ha in 430 Una volta poi,
che i poteri, un tempo inchiusi nel vocabolo generico di manus, sono cosi
separati l'uno dall'altro, essi possono essere ca paci di una propria
elaborazione e venirsi cosi differenziando fra di loro secondo il diverso
concetto a cui si ispirano, per modo che cia scuno di essi finirà per ricevere
un diverso svolgimento logico e storico ad un tempo, e per essere sottoposto a
quelle limitazioni, che verranno ad apparire necessarie nella realtà dei fatti.
Negli esordii invece della formazione del ius quiritium non presentasi ancora
il dubbio, che il quirite possa in qualche modo abusare della propria manus, e
quindi tutti i poteri, che a lui appartengono, giuridicamente considerati,
vengono ad apparire senza alcun limite e confine. Che anzi le persone a lai
soggette, sotto il punto di vista giuridico acquistano ed operano non per sè,ma
per le per sone, di cui trovansi in manu, in potestate, in mancipio. Di qui la
conseguenza, che mentre le persone sottoposte al potere del capo di famiglia
possono rappresentarlo, questa rappresentazione invece non può essere cosi
facilmente ammessa, allorchè trattasi di altre persone, come lo dimostra il
principio prevalente nell'antico di ritto, secondo cui una persona non può
promettere nè stipulare per un'altra. Il concetto del mancipium e la
distinzione delle res mancipii e necmancipii. 342. Che se la manus viene poi ad
essere considerata, in quanto abbia assoggettate al suo potere le persone e le
cose che da essa dipen dono, formasi il concetto del mancipium. Mentre i
concetti di caput e di manus indicano un'energia che si esplica, il vocabolo
invece di mancipium indica piuttosto lo stato di soggezione, in cui si trovano
sè l'idea della forza e dell'energia, ma non mai quello di mancipium, che
allora e sempre significò soltanto la soggezione. Del resto gli stessi
giureconsulti ci attestano, che in antico non eravi un vocabolo speciale per
significare il dominio, ma dicevasi soltanto meum, tuum. (1) Di qui credo di
poter indurre, che anche quel principio del diritto primitivo, secondo cui
altri non può essere rappresentato, che dalle persone che da lui dipen dono e
niuno può promettere e stipulare per altri, sia una conseguenza del modo, in
cui si iniziò la formazione del ius quiritium; in quanto che nell'esercito e
nei comizii ciascuno doveva rispondere per sè e non poteva farsi rappresentare
da altri. r 431 le persone e le cose che dipendono da essa, e presentasi con
una signi ficazione eminentemente passiva. Non vi ha quindi nulla di ripu
gnante, che esso nelle origini significasse il manu -captum; e designasse
specialmente il vinto che, fatto prigioniero di guerra, veniva ad es sere
soggetto alla potestà del vincitore. Questo è certo ad ogni modo, che nel ius
quiritium il vocabolo dimancipium, al pari di quello di caput e di manus, ha
già assunta una significazione eminentemente giuridica, per cui comprende quel
complesso di persone e di cose, che dipendono esclusivamente dal capo di
famiglia, e che a lui apparten gono ex iure quiritium, e che nel censo
compariscono in certo modo comeposte in suo capo (1). È quindi sopratutto
coll'entrare a far parte delmancipium, che i diritti spettanti al capo di
famiglia ed al pro prietario ex iure quiritium assumono quel carattere così
esclusivo ed individuale, che è del tutto proprio del diritto primitivo di
Roma. Con esso infatti il quirite viene ad essere staccato dall'ambiente gen
tilizio, di cui fa parte, a compare nel censo con un complesso di persone e di
cose, che dipendono da lui in modo assoluto. È quindi in virtù di
quest'astrazione, che viene a formarsi il concetto di una potestà senza confini
e di una proprietà assoluta ed esclusiva spet tante al capo di famiglia (2 ).
Anche nel mancipium, come negli altri (1) Quasi tutti gli autori son concordi
in ritenere, che il mancipium abbia avuta una significazione così larga da
comprendere così le persone, quanto le cose, in quanto son soggette al potere
del capo di famiglia. Solo combatte quest'opinione il MARQUARDT, Das
Privatleben der Römer, pag. 2. Ritengo che debba essere seguita la prima
opinione, la quale per me ha un appoggio incontrastabile in ciò, che le formole
serbateci da Aulo Gellio e VALERIO Probo accennano a persone, che sono in manu,
potestate, mancipio; la qual formola troviamo poi adoperata nelle leggi più
antiche che a noi pervennero, come nella lex Cincia de donationibus, del 550 di
Roma (Bruns, Fontes, pag. 45) e nella lex Acilia repetundarum, del 631 di Roma
(pag. 57). Ciò vuol dire, che anche le persone sotto un certo aspetto si
considera vano come comprese nel mancipium del capo famiglia, il che poi spiega
come ad esse potesse anche applicarsi la mancipatio, l'emancipatio e simili.
Ciò però non toglie, che le significazioni tecniche del vocabolo mancipium
fossero quelle specialmente di significare il servo, come lo prova l'editto
curule de mancipiis vendundis (Bruns, pag. 214 ), o quel complesso di beni, che
doveva essere consegnato nel censo. Quanto alle altre significazioni
dimancipium, è da vedersi il BONFANTE, op. cit., pag. 79 a 105, col quale
tuttavia non concordo in questo, che egli attribuisce al mancipium anche la
significazione di una potestà sulla cosa (pag. 100 ), e sembra ritenere, che il
mancipium non comprenda mai le persone (pag. 101, in nota). (2) Come il
mancipium, fondendosi in certo modo coll'heredium, sia venuto a de signare le
cose comprese nel dominio assoluto ed esclusivo del cittadino romano è stato
dimostrato più sopra al nº 331, pag. 414. 432 concetti fin qui presi in esame,
trovansi dapprima confuse le persone e le cose, che dipendono dalla stessa
persona; ma poi anche qui viene operandosi una specie di differenziazione, per
cui il vocabolo mancipium finisce per indicare il complesso dei beni, e quello
di familia il complesso delle persone, che dipendono dal medesimo capo. Siccome
però nel mancipium non si comprende tutto il pa trimonio del quirite, ma solo
quella parte di esso, che è portata nel censo e che serve come stregua per
determinare la classe, di cui entra a far parte; così ne deriva che il censo
serviano deve eziandio essere considerato come il momento storico, in cui
cominciò ad accen tuarsi quella distinzione fra il mancipium e il nec mancipium,
che diede poi origine a quella importantissima distinzione fra le res mancipii
e le res nec mancipii, che deve formare oggetto di par ticolare esame per le
molte discussioni, a cui diede argomento. 343. La distinzione fra le res
mancipii e le res nec mancipii, è a mio giudizio, un rottame del diritto
primitivo, che indecifrabile da solo, può cambiarsi in un documento prezioso,
quando si riesca a ricomporlo nell'ambiente in cui ebbe a formarsi (1).
L'antichità del concetto, a cui si ispira la distinzione, è dimostrata dal
fatto, che i giureconsulti ebbero ad accettare la medesima come già esi stente
nel fatto, senza pur cercare di darsi la vera ragione di essa (2 ). La
circostanza poi, che questa distinzione ebbe a perdurare per se coli, dimostra
che essa non può considerarsi come una semplice biz zarria giuridica, ma deve
invece rannodarsi a qualche concetto fon damentale dell'antico diritto, che i
giureconsulti classici credettero di dovere accettare e rispettare. Ció del
resto può in certi confini anche argomentarsi dal modo singolare, in cui è
concepita questa distinzione; in quanto che essa è evidentemente fatta
nell'intento (1) L'importanza della questione per lo studio del diritto
primitivo di Roma fu in questi ultimi tempi assai sentita in Italia, come lo
dimostrano i lavori già ci tati dello Squitti e del BONFANTE sulle res mancipi
e nec mancipi e quello del Longo sulla mancipatio. Ritengo tutta via, che
questa sia una di quelle questioni, che prima debbono essere studiate nei
particolari, ma difficilmente possono poi es sere comprese e spiegate, se non
siano coordinate colle altre istituzioni del diritto primitivo, con cui
concorrevano a costituire un tutto organico e coerente. (2 ) Non può certamente
ritenersi definitiva la ragione data da Gavo, Comm., II, 22, che le res
mancipii siano così dette perchè suscettive di mancipatio; poichè si potrebbe
sempre chiedere la ragione, per cui le sole res mancipii furono ritenute
suscettive della mancipatio. 433 di mettere in una posizione speciale e
privilegiata le res mancipii, che costituiscono la parte positiva della
distinzione, mentre l'altra parte della distinzione ha un carattere puramente
negativo, cioè comprende tutte quelle cose, che non appartengono alla prima ca
tegoria. Da questo carattere infatti è lecito indurre, che nello svol gimento
storico dovette precedere la formazione delle res mancipii, ossia di un
complesso di cose, che erano comprese nel mancipium, e che solo più tardi
quelle, che non erano comprese nelmedesimo, vennero ad essere chiamate res nec
mancipii, quasi per contrap porle alla categoria già formata dalle res
mancipii. Queste considerazioni aggiunte a quella pur importante, che dopo
l'ultima lettura del manoscritto di Gaio da lui fatta, lo Studemund avrebbe
adottata la lezione di res mancipii e res nec mancipii a vece di quella di res
mancipi e nec mancipi, che prima era ge neralmente adottata, mi inducono a
ritenere che il caposaldo, a cui deve rannodarsi questa antica distinzione, sia
l'antichissimo concetto del mancipium, le cui origini rimontano quanto meno
alla costitu zione ed al censo di Servio Tullo (1). 344. Per poter poi spiegare
come nell'antico diritto possa essersi cominciato a distinguere il mancipium
dal nec mancipium, non sarà inopportuno il notare, che fin dai tempi più
antichi noi troviamo degli accenni ad una specie di distinzione, che erasi
fatta nel pa trimonio spettante al capo di famiglia. Noi troviamo infatti una
specie di dualismo nei vocaboli di heredium e di peculium, e in quelli eziandio
di familia pecuniaque, i quali appariscono in certo modo contrapposti fra di
loro. Per verità mentre i vocaboli di he (1) Del resto la questione della i
doppia o semplice nel vocabolo mancipi o man cipii non ba grande importanza dal
momento, che nel latino primitivo solevasi usare l'i semplice a vece della
doppia ii. Che anzi sonvi autori, i quali continuano a seguire l'antica
scritturazione, appunto perchè veggono in essa un indizio ed una prova
dell'antichità della distinzione, sebbene ammettano la parentela delle res man
cipiä сol primitivo mancipium. Così il BONFANTE, op. cit., pag. 21. Per parte
mia, siccome mi propongo di fare la storia del concetto, anzichè della parola,
così trovo più conveniente di adottare quella scritturazione, la quale,
esprimendo materialmente l'attinenza fra il mancipium e le res mancipii,
impedisce di dare a questa distin zione una significazione diversa da quella,
che veramente ha. La grafia mancipi sarà forse la più genuina e la più antica;
ma essa condusse alla distinzione fra cose man cipabili e non mancipabili, e a
cercare l'origine della distinzione in cose, che non avevano a fare con essa,
il che appunto deve essere evitato. G. CARLw, Le origini del diritto di Roma.
28 434 redium e di familia indicano di preferenza quella parte del patri monio,
che nel proprio concetto informatore è destinata a passare negli eredi, i
concetti invece di peculium e di pecunia sembrano designare di preferenza
quella parte di patrimonio, che per sua na tura è destinata allo scambio, alla
circolazione ed al soddisfacimento dei quotidiani bisogni. Di quisi può
inferire, che una distinzione come questa, che compare indicata con vocaboli
diversi, e che si mantiene con una certa costanza, dovette trovare la propria
ragione d'essere nelle condizioni economiche e sociali, in cui allora trovavasi
il popolo romano, e che perciò la spiegazione di essa debba ricercarsi nell'e
poca, in cui vennesi formando il primitivo ius quiritium (1). Parmipoi a questo
proposito, che anche oggi, fermando lo sguardo sopra una comunanza di carattere
rurale, si possa trovare qualche vestigio di condizioni sociali ed economiche
analoghe a quelle, che determinarono questa distinzione nell'antico diritto di
Roma. Anche oggi nelle comunanze agricole la famiglia rurale appare in certo
modo unificata nella persona del suo capo, e sotto l'aspetto econo mico
costituisce come un gruppo di persone e di cose, in cui si comprende il
capofamiglia, la moglie, i figli, il bestiame, la terra coltivata, e la cui
importanza può essere maggiore o minore, secondo la quantità di terra da esso
posseduta, e il numero di braccia, di cui può disporre per la coltura della
medesima. È poi facile l'osser vare come in questo patrimonio, che si intitola
al padre, ma che nel costume si considera come proprietà comune del gruppo, for
misi naturalmente una distinzione congenere a quelle, le cui traccie pur
compariscono fra gli antichi romani. Nel patrimonio infatti di una famiglia
agricola havvi anzitutto una parte fissa, sostanziale, che comprende tutti quei
beni, senza di cui l'azienda agricola non potrebbe percorrere il suo corso
regolare. Essa costituisce, per cosi esprimersi, il capitale fisso della
famiglia agricola; quella parte cioè della sua sostanza, che sebbene di diritto
appartenga al padre, nel costume si ritiene invece come proprietà comune;
quella che è dal padre custodita con speciale affetto, e di cui si spoglia a
malincuore, ritenendosi come obbligato a trasmetterla intatta alla propria
figliuo lanza. Se egli quindi alieni una parte della medesima, la comunanza
rurale non può a meno di esserne informata e il suo credito vacilla. Quindi
piuttosto di alienare questa parte fissa e trasmessibile dal (1) Già si accenno
a questa correlazione, senza tuttavia cercare di spiegarla, al nº 56, pag. 70.
435 proprio patrimonio, il capo di famiglia suole anche oggidi, come già un
tempo la plebe romana, appigliarsi al partito di contrarre dei debiti, o di
ricorrere a quella vendita con patto di riscatto, che nei nostri villaggi si
cambiò nella forma più perfida ed ingannatrice sotto cui si nasconde
quell'usura, che chiamasi palliata. Accanto poi a questa parte fissa del
patrimonio havvi eziandio la parte, che costituisce in certo modo il capitale
circolante della fa miglia rurale. In essa si comprendono i raccolti
dell'annata, le somme di danaro che si tengono alla mano, il bestiame minuto,
che ogni anno si compra e si vende, e gli altri beni e valori, coi quali il
capo famiglia può fare maggiormente a fidanza, perchè la copia o la scarsità di
essi potrà rendere più o meno agiata la famiglia, senza però mettere a
repentaglio l'esistenza della medesima. È naturale che una distinzione di
questa natura abbia dapprima alcunché di vago e di indeterminato, in quanto che
possono esservi delle cose, di cui può dubitarsi se debbano essere collocate in
questa od in quella parte del patrimonio. Se tuttavia in determinate con
dizioni economiche avvenga un avvenimento di carattere ammini strativo, che
costringa in certo modo a distinguere le due parti del patrimonio, quale,
sarebbe ad esempio, la formazione di un censo o di un catasto per fissarvi
sopra una imposta, la conseguenza im mediata di questo fatto sarà, che quella
distinzione, che stava for mandosi, perderà il suo carattere vago ed
indeterminato e finirà per assumere un significato preciso, il quale, mentre
corrisponde allo stato reale delle cose in quel determinato momento, potrà in
vece riuscire inesplicabile più tardi, allorchè siansi trasformate le
condizioni economiche del popolo, di cui si tratta. 345. Or bene un avvenimento
di questa natura ebbe appunto ad avverarsi nella primitiva vita economica e
giuridica di Roma. Esso fu il censo di Servio Tullio, il quale, essendo stato
posto a base di una nuova composizione del populus romanus quiritium, non potè
a meno di lasciare anche delle traccie nello svolgimento posteriore del diritto
romano. Si sa infatti, che questo censo comprese non solo le persone, ma anche
le sostanze, e che esso sopravvenne dopo che Servio e i re suoi antecessori
avevano fatto alla plebe degli assegni di terre, che per essere tutti della
stessa natura dovevano aver rice vuta una analoga configurazione. Questi
assegni erano stati senza alcun dubbio fatti a somiglianza di quegli heredia,
che la gens an tica faceva ai suoi membri, allorché i medesimi fondavano una fa
436 miglia, colla differenza che mentre gli heredia del patriziato erano
ricavati dall'ager gentilicius, quelli invece, che si facevano alla plebe,
erano fatti direttamente dallo Stato sul suo ager publicus, mediante le così
dette adsignationes viritanae. Senza cercare qui se tali assegni fossero di
due, di cinque od anche di sette iugeri, questo è certo che essi costituivano
una specie di piccolo podere, che com ponevasi di una abitazione rurale
(tugurium ), di un orto e di un campo attiguo, naturalmente fornito di quelle
servitù rurali di pas saggio e di acquedotto, che erano del tutto
indispensabili per la sua coltivazione. Esso quindi veniva in certo modo a
costituire la pro prietà tipica del quirite, la quale, dipendendo direttamente
dalla sua manus, poteva opportunamente ricevere il nome dimancipium. Che anzi è
anche probabile, che questo podere prendesse il nome dal suo primitivo
proprietario, come lo dimostra il fatto, che i poderi romani ancora più tardi
conservano il nome derivato da quello del primitivo proprietario, che si
considera in certo modo come il fon datore del podere, e lo trasmettono
successivamente ai proprietarii che vengono dopo (1). Era quindi questo
mancipium, che doveva essere consegnato e valutato nel censo, e che costituiva
la base, sovra cui si determinavano i diritti e le obbligazioni del quirite; le
altre cose invece non gli erano tenute in conto, o perchè non appartenevano al
quirite come tale, ma piuttosto alla gente, di cui esso faceva parte, o perchè
costituivano una specie di capitale cir colante, di cui non potevasi fissare
l'ammontare in questo od in quel determinato momento. Di qui conseguiva, che
questo mancipium (1) Questa induzione mi fu suggerita da due notevoli articoli
del FUSTEL DE COULANGES, pubblicati sulla « Revue des deux mondes » del 1886
col titolo Le domaine rural chez les Romains, tomo 3º dell'annata. II FUSTEL DE
COULANGES non si occupa veramente delle origini del podere ru rale in Roma,
stante le incertezze che ancor durano sull'argomento, ma parla piut tosto dei
poderi rurali sul finire della Repubblica e durante l'Impero, allorchè i
medesimi per le loro proporzioni certo non avevano più che fare col primitivo
man cipium. Egli nota tuttavia, che i poderi anche in quest'epoca avevano una
denomi nazione ricavata dal nome non del proprietario attuale ma del
proprietario primitivo del podere, e chiamavansi così fundus Manlianus,
Terentianus, Gallianus, Sempro nianus e simili, il che finiva per dare una
personalità al fondo, determinata da colui, che prima l'aveva occupato e posto
in coltivazione. Ora non è certo impro babile, che questa singolarità nel
podere romano sia stata determinata dal fatto, che nella tabula censoria del
quirite, al disotto del nome del caput, era anche descritto il podere a lui
spettante, il quale veniva così ad assumere un nome, che i Romani trasmisero
poi con quella costanza, che abbiamo riscontrato in molti altri esempi. 437
veniva in certo modo a costituire il vero e proprio patrimonio del quirite,
cometale: quello cioè che era posto direttamente in suo capo, che in certo modo
ne prendeva il nome, e di cui egli poteva disporre senza limitazione di sorta,
purchè lo facesse nei modi solenni, che erano riconosciuti dalla comunanza
quiritaria. Anche gli altri beni potevano essere buoni e desiderabili per il
quirite; ma quelli, che entravano nel mancipium, avevano per esso una
importanza del tutto peculiare, la quale spiega come i plebei preferissero alla
loro alienazione l'imprigionamento nelle carceri del creditore, con tutti i
mali trattamenti, che potevano conseguirne. 346. Questa spiegazione del modo,
in cui si formò ilmancipium, trova poi la sua conferma nella enumerazione, che
i giureconsulti Gaio ed Ulpiano ebbero a conservarci delle res mancipii (1).
Questa enumerazione infatti serba evidentemente il carattere di una antichità
remota, e richiama il pensiero agli assegni rurali aventi una configurazione
tipica e determinata, che dovevano essere fatti sull'ager gentilicius ai
gentili e ai clienti che entravano a co stituire la gens, e dai re ai plebei
sull’ager publicus. Per verità le res mancipii, sebbene siano annoverate come
cose singole, co stituiscono però ad evidenza un tutto, che corrisponde alle
condi zioni economiche del tempo, ed ai bisogni di una famiglia agricola, la
quale debba, per dir cosi, bastare a se stessa. Ciò è dimostrato anche dalla
circostanza, che il podere, che forma il nucleo centrale del mancipium, non è
già un campo nudo di qualsiasi attrezzo, ma è un praedium instructum
considerato cioè cogli istrumenti e colle servitù, che sono necessarie per la
sua coltivazione (2). Una casa in città, un tugurio in campagna, circondato da
un piccolo podere, coi servi, cogli animali, e colle servitù indispensabili per
la coltura del medesimo, dovettero in quell'epoca costituire come la proprietà
tipica del quirite; quella proprietà cioè, che lo rendeva adsiduus, perchè ne
accertava la residenza, e locuples, perchè assicurava il sostentamento suo e
della famiglia. Essa era la prima porzione di (1) Gajo, I, 120; II, 14-17;
Ulp., Fragm., XIX, 1. (2 ) Anche questo concetto del fundus instructus
sopravvive a lungo presso i Ro mani, come appare dal Fustel De Coulanges, op.
cit., pag. 340, che lo trova in pieno vigore durante l'impero. Che anzi i
giureconsulti al solito formano una con cezione giuridica dello stesso e
instrumentum fundi », ossia di quel complesso di ar nesi, di bestiame e di
servi, che può essere necessario per la coltura del fondo. 438 terra, che
sottraevasi in certo modo dalla proprietà collettiva della gente (ager
gentilicius), o da quella dello stato (ager publicus), per costituire la vera
proprietà esclusiva ed individuale. Or bene è appunto un gruppo analogo di
cose, che può raccogliersi. dall'enumerazione conservataci da Gaio e da Ulpiano
delle res man cipii. L'uno e l'altro infatti son concordi nell'attestare, che
queste comprendevano; lº i praedia, così rustici comeurbani, purchè situati
nell'ager romanus od anche nel suolo italico, il quale mediante la concessione
del ius italicum, poteva anche essere oggetto del do minium ex iure quiritium;
2° le servitù rustiche, che sono il naturale compimento di un podere rurale,
quali le servitutes viae, itineris, actus, aquaeductus; 3° i servi, in
quell'epoca strumento indispensabile per la coltura; 4º e infine i quadrupedes,
quae dorso collove domantur, veluti boves, equi, muli et asini. Invece le altre
cose tutte, che esorbitano da questa cerchia, comprendendovi la stessa pecunia,
le pecore, i buoi ed i cavalli non domati, sono indicate senz'altro colla
espressione di res nec mancipii. 347. Di fronte a questa enumerazione dei
giureconsulti si osservo, che riesce difficile a comprendersi come nelmancipium,
quale pro prietà tipica del cittadino, non si comprendessero nè le pecore, nè
le mandre dei cavalli e dei buoi non domati, né i greggi ed ar menti, cose
tutte, che certamente costituirono la parte più notevole della ricchezza dei
primitivi romani. È perd anche ovvio il rispondere, che il criterio della
riforma serviana non fondavasi sulla ricchezza, quale che essa fosse, ma
piuttosto sulla proprietà stabile, esente da qualsiasi vincolo. Era solo questa
forma di proprietà, che poteva ren dere i quiriti adsidui e locupletes, e
servire così di garanzia alla co munanza dell'interesse, che essi avevano alla
comune difesa. Non fu quindi la pecunia, che ebbe ad essere tenuta in conto,
perchè questa, anche consistendo in greggi ed in armenti, poteva sempre essere
trasportata altrove. Si aggiunga che le mandre, i greggi, e gli ar menti
dovevano dapprima non appartenere ai singoli capi di famiglia, macostituire
invece la ricchezza delle genti collettivamente conside rate; poichè per il
loro pascolo non poteva certo bastare, nè sarebbe stato atto il piccolo podere
quiritario, ma occorrevano dei grandi e vasti spazi, che solo potevano trovarsi
negli agri gentilicii, o nell'ager compascuus della tribus primitiva, o
nell'ager publicus, proprietà dello Stato. Quanto ai capi di piccolo bestiame,
che po tevano anche appartenere al proprietario di un piccolo podere, 439
tenuto ex iure quiritium, essi costituivano quel capitale circolante, che
formava argomento degli scambii e delle negoziazioni quoti diane, e che perciò
non offriva una base salda per essere valutato nel censo. 348. Parmi cið stante
di poter conchiudere, che il primitivo man cipium consistette in quel complesso
di cose, che costituiva in certo modo la proprietà tipica del quirite, come
capo di una famiglia agricola, all'epoca in cui ebbe ad essere introdotta
l'istituzione del censo. La selezione di questo mancipium dal resto delle cose,
il cui godimento apparteneva ai primitivi romani, erasi preparata len tamente
nelle condizioni economiche e sociali ed ebbe poi ad essere determinata in modo
esatto e preciso dal censo serviano, il quale per tal modo potè perfino
influire nel determinare le varie categorie delle res mancipii (1). È infatti
questo mancipium, che nel censo appare intestato ad ogni singolo quirite, e che
costituisce il primo nucleo di quella proprietà ex iure quiritium, che ebbe poi
a svol gersi coi caratteri di assoluta, di esclusiva e di irrevocabile. Sia (1)
Infatti non è punto improbabile, che la distinzione stessa delle res mancipii
abbia potuto essere determinata dalle rubriche diverse, in cuidividevasi il
mancipium, come già ebbi ad accennare al n ° 332 (in fine). Intanto colla
soluzione indicata nel testo credo di aver fatto procedere di pari passo i due
aspetti, sotto cui fu discussa l'origine delle res mancipië e nec mancipii.
Nota giustamente il Bon FANTE, op. cit., pag. 35, che le teorie diverse, da lui
esposte, si possono dividere in razionali e storiche, secondo che cercano di
spiegare razionalmente quella distinzione, oppure di rannodarla ad un fatto
storico. I due punti di vista, a parer mio, deb bono esser fatti procedere di
pari passo; poichè la distinzione non sarebbesi intro dotta presso un popolo
pratico e logico come il romano, se non avesse avuto una ragione di essere
nelle condizioni economiche e sociali del tempo, ed essa non sareb besi poi
perpetuata con tanta tenacità, se non vi fosse stato un avvenimento storico
importantissimo, come il censo, il quale, per essersi in certo modo
immedesimato colla vita e col modo di pensare del popolo, mantenne allo stato
fossile la distinzione, di cui si trattava, anche allorchè non aveva più
ragione d'essere. Che anzi in questo modo vengono perfino ad offrire
alcunchè di vero anche le opinioni, che vogliono rannodare il concetto di
mancipium alla bellica occupatio; poichè questo carattere militare, inerente
anche almancipium, è una conseguenza di quell'impronta militare, che sopratutto
in quell'epoca assume il populus romanus quiritium; impronta, che rimane
inerente a tutti i concetti e alle istituzioni che ebbero origine in quell'occa
sione. Tuttavia, siccome trattasi qui di ricostrurre e non di far l'esame
critico delle varie opinioni, mi rimetto per l'analisi di queste opinioni,
delle quali alcune hanno perfino del singolare, allo Squirti, pag. 38 a 68, al
BONFANTE, pag. 35 e 75 e agli altri autori, che di recente esaminarono la
vecchia controversia. 440 pure, che più tardi, per l'accrescersi della fortuna
dei cittadini ro mani, siansi aggiunte molte cose, che avrebbero pur dovuto
essere tenute in conto per valutare il patrimonio del quirite; ma in questa
parte, come nel resto, i giureconsulti, allorchè trovarono foggiata questa
configurazione giuridica, si guardarono dall'alterarne in qual siasi modo le
primitive fattezze. Di qui ne venne, che il concetto del mancipium, come molti
altri concetti del primitivo diritto, dopo avere un tempo corrisposto alla
realtà dei fatti e aver così com preso quelle cose, che effettivamente
costituirono la prima proprietà esclusiva del quirite, fini in certo modo per
fossilizzarsi e cambiarsi in una categoria giuridica, in cui si compresero
tutte quelle cose, che un tempo dovevan essere consegnate nel censo. Il
mancipium si mantenne cosi come un rudere dell'antichità primitiva di Roma, che
malgrado l'incremento delle cose romane rimase ad attestare le condizioni
economiche dei quiriti, nel tempo in cui Servio Tullio pose il censo come base
di partecipazione alla comunanza quiritaria. Ciò tuttavia non impedi, che il
potere rurale presso i Romani, salvo le più grandi proporzioni, abbia ancora
sempre conservati i tratti del primitivo mancipium, in quanto che esso continud
pur sempre a costituire un tutto organico, ad avere un proprio nome, che è
quello del primitivo proprietario, e ad essere considerato come fornito delle
servitù e del bestiame necessario per la coltivazione di esso (instru mentum
fundi). Le cose romane di piccole si fanno grandi, ma continuano sempre ad
essere foggiate sul primitivo modello (1). 349. Nè può essere difficile lo
spiegarsi come il concetto del man cipium siasi cosi conservato allo stato
fossile, malgrado l'ingrandirsi delle cose romane, quando si tenga conto dello
spirito conservatore della giurisprudenza romana, e della circostanza, che i
giureconsulti (1) La miglior prova di ciò può aversi dagli articoli citati del
FUSTEL DE COULANGES, sur le domaine rural chez les Romains. Da questi infatti
si scorge che i Romani portarono il loro concetto del podere anche nelle
provincie conquistate, e che le varie parti di esso ingrandendosi vennero ad
avere talora una esistenza propria e distinta: cosicchè si ebbe il podere
coltivato per mezzo di schiavi, quello fatto valere per mezzo di affittavoli,
quello lasciato alla coltura dei servi e dei liberti, e quello più tardi
coltivato da coloni; ma intanto le fattezze primitive non scomparvero più. Per
tal modo anche il podere romano, come tutte le altre istituzioni di quel
popolo, è un organismo, che si svolge e si differenzia nelle sue varie parti,
ma conserva sempre quei caratteri, che già si potevano ravvisare nell'embrione,
da cui è partito; em brione, che, secondo il mio avviso, consisterebbe appunto
nel primitivo mancipium. 441 in questa parte trovarono già chiusa e formata la
cerchia delle res mancipii, nè ebbero motivo di estenderla o modificarla in
un'epoca, in cui già cominciavano a ritenersi gravi e inopportune le forma lità
dell'antico diritto. Di qui la conseguenza, che i giureconsulti in tutti i
responsi, che si riferiscono alle res mancipii, mantennero inviolata l'antica
misura, e solo ammisero qualche allargamento, che corrispondeva al concetto
informatore del primitivo mancipium, e che era necessario per rendere
applicabile il concetto stesso (1). Così noi troviamo, ad esempio, che i
giureconsulti interrogati, se i camelli ed elefanti potessero essere compresi
nelle res man cipii, risposero negativamente, sia perchè questi animali non
erano conosciuti, quando si fissd il concetto del mancipium, o meglio ancora,
perchè essi non si sarebbero potuti riguardare come una pertinenza di quel
podere tipico, che costituiva il mancipium (2 ). Indarno parimenti si fece
notare, che le servitù urbane avevano la medesima natura delle rustiche; esse
malgrado di ciò furono sempre ritenute come res nec mancipii, non tanto perchè
non fossero co nosciute a quell'epoca, quanto piuttosto perchè non formavano
parte integrante del podere stesso (3). Quando poi si chiese, se i cavalli e i
buoi non domati potessero essere ritenuti come res mancipii, l'opinione
prevalente fu che non fossero tali, probabilmente perchè essi, finchè non erano
domati, non potevano essere strumento indi (1) Parmi perciò da seguirsi,ma con
una certa discrezione, l'opinione che l'enumera zione delle res mancipii debba
ritenersi tassativa, come quella che in parte fu determi nata da un avvenimento
che doveva dargli un carattere esatto e preciso. Ciò però non toglie, che nel
concetto comune anche altre cose potessero essere considerate come res
mancipii, quali erano, ad esempio, le pietre preziose di Lollia Paolina, di cui
ci parla Plinio il Vecchio (Hist. nat. 9, 35, 124 ). Ciò tanto più perchè
posteriormente il concetto di mancipium, che erasi sovrapposto a quello di
heredium, tornò a riacco starsi almedesimo, e nell'uso non giuridico significò
talora i bona paterna avitaque, e specialmente quelli, che nel costume solevano
trasmettersi digenerazione in genera zione, quali erano appunto le pietre
preziose, che costituivano in certo modo un avitum mancipium. In ciò seguo
l'opinione, che il Bonghi ebbe a manifestare nella recensione del lavoro dello
SQuitti nella Cultura, anno 1886, 1-15 agosto. Cfr. BONFANTE, op. cit., p. 93.
(2) GAJO, Comm., II, 16; ULP., Fragm., XIX, 1. (3 ) GAJO, II, 17; ULPIANO, loc.
cit. Che anzi fra le servitù rustiche sono res mancipii quelle soltanto, che
hanno una maggior importanza per un podere ru stico, e che formano parte
integrante del medesimo, cioè l'iter, actus, via, aquae ductus, e non le altre,
come quelle del ius pascendi, calcis coquendae e simili, le quali, essendo
particolarità di certi speciali poderi, non potevano dapprima essere tenute in
conto. -.442 spensabile per la coltura del fondo, che costituiva il primitivo
man cipium (1). Cid intanto può eziandio servire a spiegare come Varrone parli
di formole relative alla vendita di animali da tiro, e da soma ed anche di
servi, accennando alla semplice traditio e non alla mancipatio; poichè questa
doveva solo ritenersi necessaria, allorchè gli animali e i servi, di cui si
trattava, dovessero considerarsi come instrumenta fundi (2). Siccome invece le
res mancipii, ancorchè singolarmente enumerate, costituiscono però un tutto
(cioè il man cipium ), così i giureconsulti rispondono, che alle medesime
conside rate come un tutto può essere applicato quello stesso mezzo di
alienazione, che è proprio delle singole res mancipii; donde la pos sibilità
della mancipatio familiae e del testamentum per aes et libram, di cui si
parlerà a suo tempo (3 ). (1 ) La controversia in proposito fra i Proculeiani,
che escludevano dalle res man cipii questi animali finchè non fossero giunti a
tale età da essere domati, e i Sabi niani, che invece li ammettevano fra le res
mancipii, appena fossero nati, è accen nata da GAJO, II, 15, comemolto dubbiosa
anche per lui, che era Sabiniano. In ogni caso la stessa esistenza di una
simile controversia, ed anche il fatto, che erano res man cipii solo i
quadrupedes, quae dorso collove domantur, dimostra abbastanza che la
determinazione delle res mancipii aveva stretta attinenza colla coltivazione
del fondo. (2) Le formole conservateci da VARRONE intorno all'emptio venditio
dei cavalli e dei buoi anche domati (V. Bruns, Fontes, p. 388) condussero il
Voigt a ritenere che i cavalli ed i buoi fossero introdotti solo dopo Varrone
nel novero delle res man cipië (Ius nat., Leipzig). Veramente non si saprebbe
ilmotivo di questa nuova introduzione in una distinzione, che oramai appariva
antiquata; ma ad ogni modo la cosa a mio avviso è facile a spiegarsi, quando si
ritenga che la qualità di res mancipiä era dapprima attribuita dall'essere
questa cosa un « instru mentumt fundi». Quindi non sempre era necessaria la
mancipatio per questi animali, come non sempre era necessaria per i servi, come
lo attesta lo stesso Varrone. Non credo poi che possa essere il caso di
supporre degli errori nella esposizione di Var rone, come vorrebbe il Bonfante,
op. cit., pag. 111, non potendosi supporre un er rore di questo genere sopra
formole, che vivevano nelle consuetudini ed erano ela. borate dagli stessi
giureconsulti. (3) È tuttavia degno di nota, che mentre il mancipium o la
familia, intesi nel senso di patrimonio, sono per sè suscettivi di mancipatio,
l'hereditas invece è consi derata come una res nec mancipië, e come tale è
suscettiva di in iure cessio, ma non di mancipatio (Gajo, Comm., II, 14, 17,
34). La ragione, a parer mio, è questa, che la familia o il mancipium, finchè
dipendono dal pater familias, costituiscono un'entità concreta: mentre
l'eredità, riguardo a colui che vi ha diritto, costituisce già una cosa
incorporale, una res, quae etiam sine ullo corpore iuris intellectum habet, e
quindi cade fra le res nec mancipii. Intanto però non parmiaccettabile
l'opinione, quale è espressa dallo SQUITTI, op. cit., pag. 12, che la distinzione
delle res man cipië e nec mancipii sia solo applicabile alle res singulares,
poichè non è certamente una res singularis nè il mancipium, nè la familia.
Tuttavia conviene ritenere, che la necessità delle cose con dusse in qualche
parte ad allargare i confini del primitivo manci pium. Così, ad esempio, non
può esservi dubbio, che nel primitivo mancipium dovevano solo essere compresi i
praedia, che fossero si tuati nel primitivo ager romanus, mentre più tardi
furono compresi eziandio quelli situati nel restante suolo italico, quando
anche questo venne ad essere suscettivo di proprietà quiritaria. Così pure è
pro babile, che nelle res mancipii fossero dapprima compresi solo i servi
addetti al lavoro del fondo, mentre più tardi siccome i servi della città
potevano essere trasportati alla campagna, così i servi in genere furono
compresi fra le res mancipii (1). Non potrei invece ammettere col Puctha, che
fra le res mancipii fossero anche com prese le persone libere, che fossero in
potestate, in manu, o in causa mancipii(2); poichè, come sopra si è notato, qui
il vocabolo mancipium è già preso in una significazione più ristretta e si ri
ferisce al patrimonio, anzichè alle persone dipendenti dal capo di famiglia, le
quali persone si dicono « alieni iuris, quae in manu, potestate,mancipio sunt »,
ma non sono mai chiamate res mancipii. Vero è, che anche alle persone si
applica la mancipatio, ma cid provenne, come si vedrà più tardi, da cid che la
mancipatio è una applicazione dell'atto quiritario per eccellenza, che è l'atto
per aes et libram, e quindi compare ogniqualvolta trattisi di acquistare o
trasmettere la manus, intesa nel senso di potestà giuridica quiritaria. 351.
Intanto questa storia primitiva del mancipium ci pone eziandio in caso di
risolvere la questione tanto agitata fra gli autori relativa alla precedenza
fra la mancipatio e la distinzione fra la res mancipii e nec mancipii. hi
seguisse alla lettera i giureconsulti dovrebbe dare la prece denza alla
mancipatio, in quanto che, secondo i medesimi, le res mancipii si chiamerebbero
tali appunto, perchè si trasferiscono me diante la mancipatio; ma rimarrebbe
ancor sempre a cercarsi la ragione, per cui la mancipatio venne ad essere il
mezzo proprio per l'alienazione di questa speciale categoria di cose. La cosa
invece viene ad essere facilmente spiegata quando si ri (1) Ho già notato più
sopra come le formole di VARRONE dimostrino che un servo, allorchè non era un
instrumentum fundi, poteva anche essere alienato colla sem plice traditio. (2 )
Puchta, Inst., § 238. Cfr. SQUITTI, op. cit., pag. 15. 444 tenga, che primo a
formarsi dovette essere il concetto delmancipium, il concetto cioè di una
proprietà tipica del quirite, che compren deva uno spazio di terra e quelle
pertinenze di esso, che riputa vansi il patrimonio indispensabile del capo di
una famiglia agricola. La formazione di questo mancipium, che già aveva una
base nelle condizioni economiche e sociali dei primitivi romani, venne in certo
modo a precipitarsi e a consolidarsi sotto l'influenza della costitu zione
serviana. Da quel momento l'importanza non solo economica, ma anche politica
del mancipium, pose le cose, che erano comprese nel medesimo, in una posizione privilegiata
di fronte a tutte le altre cose, che potevano spettare al cittadino romano, e
trasformò così il mancipium in una proprietà essenzialmente quiritaria, perchè
apparteneva al quirite come tale. Era quindi naturale, che all’alie nazione del
mancipium e delle cose comprese nel medesimo si estendesse l'atto quiritario
per eccellenza, che era l'atto per aes et libram, mentre per l'alienazione
delle altre cose potè bastaré anche la semplice traditio accompagnata dal
pagamento del prezzo. Per quello poi, che si riferisce alla distinzione fra le
res mancipii e quelle nec mancipii, parmi evidente che essa fu l'ultima ad es.
sere introdotta, e non ho difficoltà di ritenere, che essa possa anche essere
stata formolata più tardi dai giureconsulti, quando i mede simi già sentivano
il bisogno di ridurre ad ordine sistematico le distinzioni molteplici, che
eransi introdotte nel diritto. Il censo in fatti per sè poteva condurre alla
determinazione delle res mancipii, ed anche alla divisione delle medesime in
varie categorie; ma esso non poteva determinare che indirettamente la
formazione delle res nec mancipii. È quindi probabile, che i giureconsulti
trovando più tardi questo nucleo di cose (mancipium ), per la cui alienazione
era richiesta la mancipatio, abbiano formato di queste cose una cate goria
speciale (res mancipii), la cui caratteristica consisteva ap punto nel modo di
alienazione (mancipatio), mentre tutte le altre furono lasciate nella categoria
negativa dalle res nec mancipii (1). (1) Non parmi tuttavia accoglibile
l'opinione del Voigt, secondo cui la distinzione sarebbe nata fra il 585 e il
650 di Roma. Essa invece dovette già essere formata all'epoca delle XII Tavole,
in cui accanto alla mancipatio, riservata alle res man cipii, era già comparsa
l'in iure cessio, che era applicabile eziandio alle res nec man cipii: il che
sarebbe anche provato da ciò, che le stesse XII Tavole già ponevano le res
mancipii nella condizione speciale di non potere essere usucapite, allorchè fos
sero state vendute da una donna senza approvazione del tutore. È evidente
infatti 445 Essi insomma fecero qui una distinzione analoga a quella, che si
introdurrà più tardi, fra le cose, che appartengono ad una persona ex iure
quiritium, e quelle invece che le appartengono solo in bonis; poichè le prime
costituiscono una cerchia chiusa e circo scritta, quanto alle cose, che possono
essere l'oggetto, quanto ai modi di acquisto, e alle persone cui appartengono,
mentre quelle in bonis comprendono tutte le altre. $ 6. La storia primitiva della
proprietà ex iure quiritium. 352. L'analogia, che ho sopra notata fra la
distinzione delman cipium e del nec mancipium e quella presentatasi più tardi
fra il dominium ex iure quiritium e quello in bonis, mi fa tornare un'altra
volta sul grave problema dell'origine e dello svolgimento storico della proprietà
ex iure quiritium. Fino ad ora si è sola mente dimostrato, come già nel periodo
gentilizio vi fosse una forma di proprietà, che intestavasi al capo di
famiglia, e che pren deva il nome di heredium. Questa tuttavia non costituiva
ancora una proprietà assolutamente individuale ed esclusiva, perchè il capo di
famiglia trovavasi in proposito ancora sotto la dipendenza della gens, a cui
apparteneva. Accanto a questi heredia dei patricii si erano poi venuti formando
gli stanziamenti e i possessi dei plebei, che probabilmente chiamavansi
mancipia. Quando poi patriziato e plebe entrarono a far parte dello stesso
populus romanus qui ritium, in base alla considerazione del censo, la sola
proprietà, che era loro comune era quella che spettava al capo di famiglia, e
perciò fu questa, che comparve nel censo intestata ad ogni quirite sui iuris,
sotto il vocabolo di mancipium e coi caratteri di una proprietà assolutamente
individuale. Il vocabolo mancipium tuttavia non significd per sè il dominium ex
iure quiritium, ma piuttosto quel complesso organico di cose, che per il primo
formo oggetto del medesimo; come lo dimostra la circostanza, che in questo
periodo, secondo l'attestazione dei giureconsulti, si ricorse per indicare il
che questa condizione speciale delle res mancipii, accennata da Gajo, I, 192, e
da Ul PIANO, Fragm., XI, 27, doveva fin d'allora condurre alla distinzione di
cui si tratta. Per un più lungo esame dell'opinione del Voigt, vedi Squitti, op.
cit., pag. 73 e seg., e BONFANTE, op. cit., pag. 115 e seg. 146 dominio
quiritario all'espressione meam esse: « aio hanc rem iure quiritium ». Ferma
cosi la spiegazione del modo in cui sarebbesi formato il primo nucleo del
dominium ex iure quiritium, resta ora a ve dere come il suo concetto siasi
venuto allargando, e quali siano i varii stadii, che attraverso questa
proprietà ex iure quiritium, la quale doveva poi divenire il modello di ogni
proprietà esclusiva mente privata ed individuale. 353. A questo riguardo i
ricercatori dell'antico diritto si arrestano sorpresi di fronte a questo fatto
singolare, che il solo mancipium nei primi tempi sembra aver formato oggetto
della proprietà ex iure qui ritium. L'Ortolan, ad esempio, trova assurdo che il
quirite non avesse la proprietà delle cose incorporali, se si eccettuano certe
servitù rustiche, nè la proprietà delle cose mobili, se si eccettuano i servi e
le bestie da tiro e da soma. Così pure il Muirhead stenta a spiegare in qualmodo
quei quiriti, che avevano divisi i loro fondi, fossero poi indifferenti alla
distinzione del mio e del tuo per molte altre cose; il che lo induce a
combattere la proposizione di Gaio, secondo cui il popolo Romano non conosceva
un tempo, che la sola proprietà ex iure quiritium: « aut enim ex iure quiritium
unusquisque do minus erat, aut non intellegebatur dominus » (1). È certo che la
cosa riesce assai strana, quando si voglia ritenere che, al difuori della
proprietà ex iure quiritium, non vi fosse pei romani primitivi altra forma di
proprietà o di possesso; ma la cosa pud invece essere spiegata quando si abbia
presente il modo, in cui si vennero formando il ius quiritium e le istituzioni,
che entrarono a costituirlo. Già ho cercato di dimostrare comeil ius quiritium
non comprendesse tutto il diritto primitivo di Roma, ma solo quella parte di
esso, che prima venne a precipitarsi e a consolidarsi e che di vento cosi
comune ai due ordini, che con Servio Tullio entrarono a far parte della stessa
comunanza quiritaria. Il patriziato e la plebe continuarono ancor sempre a
seguire le proprie tradizioni ed usanze, e non ebbero comune che quella parte
di diritto, che essendo stata accettata come base della comunanza quiritaria
prese il nome spe ciale di ius quiritium. Questo pertanto non governd dapprima
tutti i rapporti giuridici, ma solo quelli che intervenivano fra loro nelle (1)
Ortolan, Histoire de la législation romaine, Paris, 1880, p. 606. MUIRHEAD,
Histor. Introd., pag. 40.. 447 loro qualità di quiriti, e fu solo col tempo e a
misura che facevasi più intima la convivenza dei quiriti, che esso venne
arricchendosi di nuove forme, assimilando nuovi istituti, modellando nuovi
negozii richiesti dalle esigenze della vita civile in una grande e popolosa
città, e si cambiò così nel ius proprium civium romanorum (1). 354. Or bene ciò
che accadde nella formazione del ius quiritium si avverò eziandio
nell'elaborazione delle varie istituzioni, che en travano a costituirlo, e
quindi anche delle proprietà ex iure qui. ritium. Questa non comprende dapprima
tutta la fortuna, famigliare o gentilizia dei cittadini, ma comprende solo
quella parte di essa, che loro appartiene nella loro qualità di quiriti.
Siccome quindi nella comunanza serviana non conta dapprima che il mancipium,
che è la sola proprietà intestata nel censo al quirite e in base a cui si
determinano i suoi diritti e le sue obbligazioni di quirite, cosi la primitiva
proprietà ex iure quiritium non potè comprendere dapprima che il mancipium, e
fu solo a questa, che si applicò l'atto quiritario per eccellenza, cioè l'atto
per aes et libram, e quella pro cedura quiritaria dell'actio sacramento, in cui
i contendenti affer mavano: « hanc rem suam esse ex iure quiritium ». Questa
infatti era l'unica proprietà, che poteva essere tenuta in conto al punto di
vista quiritario e che doveva perciò avere la tutela del diritto qui ritario.
Quindi era giusto il dire, che altri « aut erat dominus ex iure quiritium, aut
non intellegebatur dominus »: il che non vuol già dire, che non si potesse
avere il possesso od il godimento di altri beni, ma soltanto che le altre forme
di proprietà non potevano es sere tenute in calcolo al punto di vista
quiritario. Quindi al modo stesso, che il ius quiritium fu il frutto della
selezione di certi con cetti e forme solenni, che furono adottate dalla
comunanza dei qui riti, cosi la proprietà ex iure quiritium fu anche essa
determinata da una specie di selezione. Il suo primo nucleo consistette nel man
cipium, il quale costitui in certo modo la proprietà tipica del qui rite, ma
più tardi i suoi limiti apparvero troppo circoscritti, e perciò alla cerchia
troppo ristretta del mancipium si venne sostituendo un concetto più esteso del
dominium ex iure quiritium. Questo infatti (1) Questo carattere particolare del
ius quiritium, per cui esso non è tutto il di ritto primitivo di Roma, ma solo
quella parte di esso, che vennesi consolidando al lorchè patriziato e plebe
entrarono a formar parte della stessa comunanza quiritaria. fu dimostrato
sopratutto nel lib. III, cap. 3º. 448 viene già ad essere più esteso: lº quanto
alle persone a cui compete, che non sono più i soli capi di famiglia, ma tutti
i cittadini ro mani ed anche i latini cui sia accordato il ius quiritium; 2°
quanto ai modi, con cui si acquista, che non si riducono più alla sola man
cipatio, ma comprendono anche la in iure cessio e la usucapio (1 ); e quanto
alle cose, che possono essere l'oggetto, che non sono più le sole res mancipii,
ma tutte le cose in commercio, eccetto il solum provinciale. Tuttavia egli è
evidente, che anche in questo secondo stadio la proprietà ex iure quiritium
costituisce ancora sempre una proprietà privilegiata, quanto alle persone, alle
cose, ai modi di acquisto; cosicchè ogni qualvolta manchi una di queste
condizioni la cosa ap partiene solo in bonis, ed è solo col tempo e per effetto
della pro tezione pretoria, che viene a poco a poco delineandosi una proprietà
in bonis, accanto alla proprietà per eccellenza, che era quella ex iure
quiritium. Qui pertanto appare evidente quella legge di for mazione del diritto
romano, per cui accanto alla parte di esso già formata ne compare un'altra, che
trovasi in via di formazione e che cercasi a poco a poco di fare entrare nelle
forme di quella, che prima riuscì a consolidarsi. Mentre questo dualismo nel
primitivo ius quiritium è rappresentato dal mancipium e dal nec mancipium, il
medesimo invece nel ius proprium civium romanorum viene ad essere rappresentato
dalla proprietà ex iure quiritium e da quella in bonis; ma intanto la seconda
distinzione, pur abbracciando una cerchia più vasta, continua ancora sempre ad
essere foggiata sulla prima. 355. Queste considerazioni mi conducono a
ritenere, che anche il dominium ex iure quiritium, dopo esser stato modellato
sulla realtà dei fatti, abbia finito per convertirsi in una costruzione
giuridica non dissimile da quella, che abbiamo ravvisata nei concetti di caput,
di manus e di mancipium. Esso è una forma di proprietà, che cor risponde al
concetto del quirite, e quindi al modo stesso, che questi nella sua
configurazione giuridica era una individualità integra e perfetta, concepita
sotto l'aspetto esclusivamente giuridico, ed (1) Non è qui il caso di parlare
nè dell'adiudicatio, nè della lex, e dell'adsignatio viritana, che potevano
anche attribuire il dominium ex iure quiritium; poichè lo stesso Gajo, Comm.,
II, 65, parla soltanto della mancipatio, della in iure cessio e dell'usucapio,
come costituenti un ius proprium civium romanorum. 449 isolata da tutti gli
altri suoi rapporti, cosi anche la sua proprietà ebbe ad essere concepita come
assoluta ed esclusiva, e fu modellata in certo modo ad imagine della persona, a
cui doveva appartenere. Una prova di ciò l'abbiamo in questo, che allo
svolgimento del dominium ex iure quiritium si applicò una logica del tutto ana
loga a quella, che erasi applicata allo svolgimento del concetto di caput;
cosicchè, per determinare i varii atteggiamenti del dominio, furono adoperati
dei criteri analoghi a quelli, che servirono a de terminare lo stato del
quirite. Così, ad esempio, al modo istesso, che si ha l'optimum ius quiritium
allorchè la capacità del quirite non soffre alcuna limitazione; cosi havvi il
dominium optimum maximum, quando il dominium non è soggetto ad alcuna limita
zione. Al modo stesso parimenti, che vi ha una diminutio capitis, cosi havvi
eziandio una diminutio dominii, la quale è perfino in dicata collo stesso
vocabolo di servitus, con cui pure si indica la maxima capitis diminutio. Che
anzi a quella guisa, che l'intiero caput non appartiene a tutti gli uomini,
cosi non tutte le cose sono suscettive del dominium.ex iure quiritium; il qual
concetto spin gesi a tal punto, che può ravvisarsi una specie di correlazione
fra la concessione della civitas agli abitanti, e la concessione al suolo da
essi abitato di quel ius privilegiato, che lo rende suscettivo di dominio
quiritario. Cosi mentre il solum italicum ottenne questa speciale condizione,
sotto il nome di ius italicum, il solum provin ciale invece non potè mai essere
oggetto di vera proprietà, se non quando scomparve con Giustiniano la
distinzione fra la proprietà ex iure quiritium e la proprietà in bonis (1). Vi
ha di più ancora, ed è che le trasformazioni storiche, che ac cadono nel
concetto di caput, camminano di pari passo con quelle del dominium ex iure
quiritium. Così, ad esempio, finchè il vero caput non appartenne che al capo di
famiglia, anche questi fu il solo capace di proprietà ex iure quiritium. Quando
poi la capacità di diritto dal capo di famiglia passò ad ogni cittadino romano
) (1) In questa guisa si spiega, come i Romani procedessero nell'accordare ad
un determinato territorio l'attitudine ad essere oggetto di proprietà
quiritaria nel modo stesso, in cui procedevano nell'estendere la cittadinanza
romana ai popoli conquistati. Di qui l'analogia fra la formazione del ius latiï
e quella del ius italicum: di cui quello si riferisce alle persone, questo
invece si riferisce al suolo (Cfr. Baudouin, Étude sur le ius italicum, nella «
Nouvelle revue historique de droit français et étranger », annate 1881 e 1882).
G. CARLI, Le origini del diritto di Roma. 29 450 bastò essere tale, per essere
capace di proprietà ex iure quiritium. Quando infine la capacità giuridica
appartenne ad ogni uomo li bero, perchè tutti gli abitanti dell'impero
ottennero la cittadinanza, bastò essere uomo libero per essere capace di quella
proprietà, che un tempo era stata privilegio dei soli quiriti. La qual
trasforma zione avverasi anche, quanto alle cose che ne formano l'oggetto, le
quali cominciarono dall'essere quelle soltanto, che figuravanonel censo
intestate al capo di famiglia (res mancipii), e finirono per compren dere tutte
quelle, che potevano essere in commercio. Il che deve pur dirsideimodi
diacquisto, i quali dapprima furono probabilmente circo scritti alla sola
mancipatio, mentre dopo compresero l'in iure cessio e l'usucapio, e finirono
col tempo per comprendere anche quei modi di acquisto, che dapprima erano
proprii soltanto del diritto delle genti; donde la distinzione della classica
giurisprudenza fra i modi di acquisto del dominio, civili e naturali,
originarii e derivativi (1 ). 356. Era poi naturale, che alla proprietà cosi
intesa i giurecon sulti abbiano finito per applicare quella stessa analisi, che
già ab biamo riscontrato nel caput. Essi contrapposero il quirite alla cosa che
gli apparteneva: gli fecero afferrare materialmente la cosa ed affermare la sua
proprietà sulla medesima dicendo, che la cosa era sua ex iure quiritium:
immedesimarono in certo modo la persona colla cosa alla medesima spettante, e
le attribuirono così un di ritto illimitato di usarne, goderne, e di disporne,
anche abusando di essa. In questo diritto del proprietario, che non ha confine,
deve quindi ravvisarsi una costruzione giuridica, non dissimile da tante altre,
che occorrono nel diritto romano: poichè in effetto l'abuso della proprietà era
poi frenato dal costume, e sopratutto dal iudicium de moribus, il quale, dopo
essere stato una istituzione gentilizia, fu di nuovo ristabilito dalle XII
Tavole, e fu affidato al pretore (2 ). Che anzi ciascuno dei diritti inchiusi
nella proprietà (1) Non può ammettersi, come vorrebbero taluni, che nelle
origini del diritto ro mano non esistessero modi naturali di acquisto, il che
sarebbe contraddetto dall'an tichità della traditio, quanto alle res nec
mancipii: ma soltanto che i modi naturali, pur esistendo da epoca forse più
antica, furono solo più tardi incorporati nella com pagine del diritto romano,
il quale assimilava solamente ciò, che in qualche modo poteva entrare nelle
forme prestabilite. (2 ) L'origine gentilizia del iudicium de moribus fu
dimostrata al n° 59, p. 74. Del resto tale origine gentilizia è comprovata
dalla intitolazione stessa di questo iw dicium demoribus, la quale sembra
richiamare qualche antica norma consuetudi 451 fini per ricevere una propria
denominazione, e staccato dal ceppo, sovra cui aveva radice, fini per dare
origine alle varie configura zioni dei diritti reali, comprendendovi anche il
ius possessionis, ciascuno dei quali potė ricevere un vero e proprio sviluppo,
pur sempre ritenendo l'impronta reale, che eragli provenuta dalla pro prietà,
di cui costituiva un frazionamento. Fu anzi in questa occa sione, che sembra
essere venuto in uso il vocabolo di proprietas, il quale in origine appare
adoperato, quando si tratta di contrapporre la proprietà ai diritti reali, che
erano inchiusi nella medesima (1). 357. Questa ricostruzione intanto del
dominium ex iure quiri. tium mi porge occasione di fare un brevissimo cenno dei
rapporti, che nel diritto romano intercedono fra la proprietà ed il possesso. A
questo proposito il diritto romano presenta questa singolarità, chementre il
giureconsulto Paolo, fondandosi sull'autorità di Nerva filius, annunzia come
fuori di ogni dubbio, che il dominio dovette cominciare dalla materiale
appropriazione delle cose (dominium rerum ex naturali possessione coepisse)
(2); noi troviamo invece, che nello svolgimento storico presentasi dapprima
integro e com piuto il concetto del dominium ex iure quiritium, ed è solo molto
più tardi, che il possesso viene ad essere considerato come una isti tuzione
giuridica, protetta cogli interdetti possessori. Di fronte a questo stato di
cose sarebbe fuor di luogo il sostenere, che i Romani non distinguessero
dapprima fra la materiale detenzione di una cosa, e la padronanza giuridica
sovra di essa; ciò sarebbe smentito dal fatto, che essi fin dai primi tempi
ebbero il concetto dell'usus e dell'usus auctoritas, ed anche dalla
circostanza, che ai plebei, stanziati sul territorio romano, non si riconobbe
dapprima una vera naria, ed anche dalla circostanza, che le XII Tavole,
affidando al pretore questo po tere, che un tempo apparteneva alla gens,
richiamarono di nuovo in vita il primitivo concetto dell'heredium, che era
venuto meno nello stretto ius quiritium, e ristabili rono contro il prodigo
interdetto la cura degli agnati e dei geniili, la quale è certo una reliquia
dell'organizzazione gentilizia. Il testo infatti, secondo la ricostruzione del
Voigt, Tav. VI, 10, sarebbe il seguente: « Qui sibi heredium nequitia sua
disperdit, liberosque suos ad egestatem perducit, ea re commercioque praetor
interdicito. In adgnatum gentiliumque curatione esto ». (1) Che il vocabolo di
proprietas abbia cominciato ad adoperarsi, allorchè si trat tava di
contrapporre la proprietà in sè ai diritti frazionarii inchiusi nella medesima,
può argomentarsi, fra gli altri passi, da quello di GAJO, II, 30, ove la
proprietas si contrappone appunto all'ususfructus. (2 ) L. 1, § 1, Dig. (41, 2
). 452 proprietà, ma una specie di possesso a titolo di precario, che non aveva
ancora carattere giuridico (1). La causa invece del fatto deve riporsi in ciò,
che anche in questa parte il ius quiritium, essendo già stato il frutto di una
vera elaborazione giuridica, prese senz'altro le mosse dal concetto più vasto e
comprensivo, a cui si potesse giungere in tema di proprietà. Il concetto
infatti del do minium ex iure quiritium ebbe dapprima ad essere modellato sul
mancipium, il quale, implicando la sottomissione illimitata di una cosa ad una
persona, inchiudeva in una sintesi potente tutti i po teri, che ad una persona
possono appartenere sopra una cosa. Il diritto infatti, che al quirite spetta
sul proprio mancipium, nella sua sintesi vigorosa, implica la detenzione
materiale e la proprietà della cosa: è un fatto ed è un diritto; è una
proprietà originaria, ma intanto comprende eziandio la proprietà derivata; esso
anzi de signa perfino una proprietà, che ha dell'individuale e del famigliare
ad un tempo. Fu soltanto più tardi, che anche in questo concetto venne
penetrando l'analisi, la quale cominciò dal distinguere la materiale detenzione
di una cosa (naturalis possessio), la quale è un puro e semplice fatto (res
facti), dalla padronanza giuridica sovra di essa (dominium ex iure quiritium ),
la quale costituisce invece un vero e proprio diritto (res iuris). Col tempo
però, siccome fra questi due termini estremiverranno ad esservi delle
possessiones, che per speciali considerazioni potranno anche apparire
meritevoli diprotezione giuridica, cosi si verrà a poco a poco modellando dal
pretore il concetto di una civilis possessio. Questa tuttavia non apparirà più
unicamente come una res facti, ma in parte eziandio come una res iuris; non
supporrà unicamente la materiale deten zione della cosa (corpus), ma anche
l'intenzione di tenere la cosa per sè (animus rem sibi habendi). Questo
possesso verrà cosi a pren dere un posto di mezzo fra la semplice detenzione
materiale di una cosa, e la proprietà della medesima (2 ); quindi, per la protezione
di esso, il pretore, non trovandosi di fronte ad un diritto compiutamente
formato, non potrà ius dicere nel vero senso della parola, ma sol tanto
interdicere, cioè proibire che venga turbato lo stato di fatto, del quale si
tratta (vim fieri veto ), donde la denominazione degli inter. (1) Vedi, quanto
alle primitive possessioni della plebe nel territorio romano, il nº 154, pag.
190 e segg. (2) V. in proposito Savigny, Dela possession, Trad. Staedtler,
sulla 74 ed. tedesca, Bruxelles 1879, § 5º, pag. 20 a 25. 453 dicta, con cui si
protegge il possesso. Siccome poi questo possesso, du rando un determinato
spazio di tempo, già poteva, in base all'usuca pione,trasformarsi in un vero
diritto; cosi il possesso, oltre al costituire per se stesso una istituzione
giuridica, protetta mediante gli inter detti, costituisce pure un mezzo,
mediante cui il fatto della deten zione e del godimento di una cosa (usus) può
trasformarsi nel di ritto di proprietà (auctoritas) (1). È tuttavia a notarsi,
che siccome tanto il dominium ex iure quiritium, quanto la semplice possessio
debbono ritenersi come una scomposizione del diritto, che al quirite spettava
sul primitivo mancipium, il quale aveva del materiale e del giuridico ad un
tempo; così tanto il dominium, che la pos sessio, presso i romani, non poterono
mai intieramente spogliarsi di un certo carattere di materialità. Cid è
dimostrato dalla circostanza, che da una parte il dominium fini per essere
circoscritto alle cose corporali e dovette sempre essere trasferito col mezzo
della tra dizione, e dall'altra il possesso non potè parimenti estendersi, che
alle cose corporali e ad alcuni dei diritti reali competenti sulle me desime
(quasi possessio ) (2). In questo modo possono facilmente spiegarsi le
incertezze dei giureconsulti, i quali ora considerano il possesso come una res
facti, ed ora come una res iuris, ora scorgono in esso l'estrinsecazione del
diritto di proprietà, ed ora dicono invece, che il possesso ha nulla di comune
con essa; poichè il medesimo, essendo una istitu zione intermedia fra il fatto
ed il diritto, fra la detenzione e la proprietà, poteva presentarsi or sotto
l'uno or sotto l'altro aspetto, secondo lo speciale punto di vista, sotto cui
era considerato (3 ). Si comprende parimenti, che sebbene ogni dominio abbia
dovuto (1) A parer mio è importante nello svolgimento storico del diritto
romano di tener distinti i due istituti del possesso ad usucapionem, e del
possesso ad inter dicta. Il primo prese le mosse del concetto dell'usus e
perciò potò essere applicato così alle res mancipië che alle nec mancipii, così
alle cose corporali, che alle incor porali; mentre il secondo fu il frutto
dell'analisi del mancipium, e ritenne quindi sempre qualche cosa della
materialità inerente a quest'ultimo. L'uno mette capo alla legislazione
decemvirale, mentre l'altro ricevette la propria configurazione giu ridica dal
diritto pretorio. (2 ) Cfr. Savigny, V. i passi in proposito citati dal
Savigny, op. cit., § 5, pag. 21 e segg., nelle note. Sono poi noti i passi di
Ulp., 12, § 1, Dig. (41, 2) nihil commune habet proprietas cum possessione», ed
altri analoghi, L. 1, $ 2, Dig. (43, 17). Cfr. JHERING, Fondement des interdits
possessoires, Trad. Maulenaere, Paris 1882, pag. 42. - 151 prendere le mosse
dalla materiale appropriazione di una cosa, il concetto del possesso sia
tuttavia di formazione posteriore, e non abbia ricevuto una propria
configurazione giuridica, che per opera del pretore, allorchè il medesimo
cominciò ad accordare la prote zione giuridica a quelle possessiones nell'ager
publicus, che per la propria durata già cominciavano ad assumere il carattere
di un vero A proprio diritto (1). Per quello poi, che si riferisce alla
questione tanto agitata del fon damento razionale della protezione giuridica
accordata al possesso, essa, come al solito, non ebbe ad essere trattata di
proposito dai giu reconsulti; ma si può indurre dallo svolgimento storico di
esso, che tale fondamento deve riporsi sul principio, sovra cui poggia tutto il
diritto romano, secondo cui « ex facto oritur ius », in quanto che ogni fatto,
che riunisca in sè certe condizioni di durata e di buona fede, contiene in sé i
germi di un diritto e come tale può già meri tare la protezione giuridica e
servire ad un tempo di base all'usu capione (2 ). (1) Tale sarebbe l'opinione
del Niebaur, Histoire romaine, III, 191 e segg.; e del Savigny, op. cit., § 12
a, pag. 177-185. Essa parmi in ogni caso più verosimile di quella sostenuta dal
Pochta, Istit., § 225, secondo cui l'idea del possesso sarebbe provenuta dalla
concessione del possesso interinale, che si accordava ad uno dei contendenti
nella procedura di vindicazione coll' actio sacramento; poichè questo possesso
interinale non ha punto che fare col possesso, in quanto ha una protezione
giuridica tutta sua propria, che consiste negli interdetti. Comunque stia la
cosa, sembra che l'interdetto più antico sia quello uti possidetis, destinato
appunto ad impedire il turbamento di uno stato di fatto. Intanto viene ad
essere evidente, che in base all'opinione qui sostenuta, se si voglia collocare
il possesso nella solita di stinzione dei diritti in personali e reali, esso
dovrà certo esser collocato tra i diritti reali. Cfr. il SavIGNY, op. cit., $ 6,
p. 42, il quale sostiene un'opinione in parte diversa. (2 ) Senza voler qui
prendere in esame le molte teorie, che furono escogitate in proposito, solo mi
limiterò ad osservare, che la questione ebbe ad essere profonda mente discussa
in due opere, che vennero ad un risultato compiutamente diverso; di cui una è
quella del JHERING, Ueber den Grund des Besitzschutzes, Jena 1869, di cui
abbiamo la trad. franc. del Maulenaere, sopra citata, e l'altra è quella del
Bruns, Die Besitzklagen des röm. und heutigen Rechts, Weimar 1874, il cui con
cetto fu adottato e largamente esposto dal PADELLETTI, Archivio giuridico, XV,
pag. 3 e segg. Secondo il primo, la protezione accordata al possesso fondasi su
ciò, che il possesso è una estrinsecazione della stessa proprietà, e quindi
senza tale pro tezioneanche la proprietà non sarebbe sufficientemente difesa.
Secondo l'altro invece, il posseso è tutelato unicamente per se stesso, in base
al concetto, enunciato nella L. 2, Dig. (43, 17): qualiscumque possessor, hoc
ipso quod possessor est, plus iuris habet, quam qui non possidet ». Parmi che,
assegnando a questa protezione il fondamento razionale indicato nel testo, cioè
il principio: « ex facto oritur ius », si 455 358. Di fronte a questo
svolgimento storico e logico ad un tempo, parminon possa essere difficile la
risposta a coloro, i quali chiedono comemai una istituzione, come quella della
proprietà ex iure quiri. tium, dopo essere stata esclusivamente propria dei
romani, abbia finito per diventare istituzione universale, e per essere
adottata anche da quei popoli, i quali non subirono l'influenza diretta della
dominazione romana. La causa vera del fatto sta in questo, che la proprietà
quiritaria, dopo essere uscita dai fatti, e aver prese le mosse da quel nucleo
di cose, che anche nell'organizzazione gentilizia era assegnato ai singoli capi
di famiglia, fini per essere isolata dall'ambiente, in cui si era formata, e si
cambiò così in una costruzione logica e coerente. Fu in questa guisa, che la
medesima, essendo ridotta, per dir cosi, ad un capolavoro di costruzione
giuridica, potè cessare di essere l'istitu zione di un popolo, per diventare
quella del mondo. Vero è, che tutti i popoli ebbero i loro istituti giuridici,
e quindi anche questa o quella forma di proprietà, ma non tutti riescirono ad
isolare tali istituti e sopratutto la proprietà dall'ambiente storico, in cui
si erano for mati; solo i romani ebbero la potenza di sceverarli da ogni
elemento affine, di sottoporli ad un'elaborazione non interrotta, che duro pa
recchi secoli, e riuscirono cosi a ridurre allo stato di purezza quella, che
potrebbe chiamarsi l'obbiettività giuridica dei singoli istituti. Le loro
analisi, le loro fattispecie, le loro costruzioni giuridiche non potranno
sempre essere applicabili, ma saranno sempre elaborazioni tipiche nel loro
genere, come lo sono in un genere diverso i capo lavori dell'arte greca; ed è
questo il motivo dell'eternità e dell'uni versalità del diritto romano. Questa
elaborazione poi fu dai romani compiuta sopratutto quanto al concetto della
privata proprietà. In questo senso si pud dire col Sumner Maine (1) che essi
furono i crea tori della proprietà privata ed individuale;ma è sopratutto
notabile abbia il vantaggio di far contribuire alla giustificazione della
protezione giuridica accordata al possesso e l'una e l'altra teorica, e quello
di dare contemporaneamente una base, così al possesso ad interdicta, come al
possesso ad usucapionem. Secondo il Puglia, Studii di storia del diritto
romano, Messina 1886, pag. 72: « l'interdetto pos sessorio sarebbe comparso
come un mezzo particolare per risolvere una controversia, per la quale non
potevasi dal pretore esercitare la iurisdictio »; ma è ovvio il notare che in
questa guisa si potrà forse spiegare l'introduzione degli interdetti, ma non
maiil fondamento della protezione giuridica accordata al possesso. Cfr.
PADELLETTI Cogliolo, Storia del dir. rom., pag. 529 e segg., ove trovasi citata
in nota la bi bliografia più recente sull'argomento. (1) SUMNER-MAINE, L'ancien
droit, trad. Courcelles Seneuil, Paris, il modo e il perchè essi ed non altri
riuscirono in tale creazione. Essi infatti vi pervennero svolgendo prima il
concetto della pro prietà individuale, assoluta ed esclusiva, riguardo a quel
nucleo di cose, che era compreso nel primitivo mancipium, con cui ogni sin golo
quirite compariva nel censo, e poi trasportarono successiva mente il concetto
logico, che essi si erano formati di questa pro prietà ex iure quiritium, a
tutte le cose corporali, che potevano essere oggetto di commercio. Per tal modo
la proprietà quiritaria si staccò da una organizzazione gentilizia e
patriarcale, non dissi mile da quella, da cui usci la proprietà privata dei
Germani e degli Inglesi nell'evo moderno; ma a differenza di questa, quella fu
ben presto isolata dall'ambiente, in cui erasi formata, e si cambid cosi in una
proprietà tipica, strettamente individuale, che potè con certi temperamenti
essere adottata da tutti i popoli. Appendice. Senza voler qui fare
comparazioni, che miporterebbero fuori del tema, non so tuttavia trattenermi
dall'accennare ad alcune singolari analogie fra lo svolgi mento della proprietà
privata in Roma e presso i popoli Germanici. Ebbi già occasione di accennare, a
pag. 62, nota 2, la discussione seguita nell'Accademia Francese, a pro posito
della proprietà presso gli antichi Germani. Ora aggiungo, che quella stessa
discussione porse argomento ad una nota del prof. Del Giudice, stata letta
all'Isti tuto Lombardo, nelle adunanze del 4 e 18 marzo 1886, in cui egli fa un
accura tissimo raffronto fra la descrizione di Cesare e quella di Tacito circa
le condizioni dei primitivi Germani, e cerca di ridurre nei loro veri confini
le mutazioni, che si erano avverate, quanto alla proprietà del suolo, nei 150
anni, che separano i due autori. Tale trasformazione riducevasi in sostanza a
ciò, che i possessi erano diventati più stabili, e che dalla proprietà
collettiva del villaggio già erasi venuta distin guendo la proprietà della
famiglia. Pervenuti così a questo punto della evoluzione della proprietà presso
i Germani, analogo a quello, a cui erano pervenute le genti italiche, allorchè
fondarono la città di Roma, noi troviamo nel dottissimo lavoro dello SCHUPFER
sull'Allodio nei secoli Barbarici, Torino, 1886, la descrizione degli ulteriori
stadii, per cui passò l'evoluzione stessa. Noi cominciamo anzitutto dal
trovarci di fronte a certi vocaboli e concetti, che ci richiamano le condizioni
primi tive delle genti italiche. Cotali sono i communalia, i vicinalia, i
vicanalia (SCHUPFER, pag. 26 ) i quali, senz'aver più la configurazione tipica
dell'ager compascuus delle tribù italiche, richiamano però il medesimo. Così
anche tra i Germani trovasi una forma di proprietà, che, senza essere del tutto
individuale, già si accosta alla medesima, ed è notevole, che essa, così fra le
genti italiche, come fra i Germani, è indicata con un vocabolo, che richiama
l'eredità, il passaggio cioè di un patrimonio dai genitori nei figli. Questo
vocabolo presso i Romani, era quello di heredium, e presso i Germani è quello
di alodium; il quale eziandio, secondo il Waitz e lo Schupfer, cominciò
dapprima dall'indicare l'eredità, e passò poscia ad indicare il patrimonio
avito. SCHUPFER, Op. cit., pag. 11 e 12. Or bene, presso l'uno e l'altro
popolo, è questo heredium o alodium, che finisce per costituire il primo nucleo
della proprietà esclusivamente privata. — È notabile anzi, che, nel periodo
della tras 457 formazione, nè i Romani, nè i Germani hanno un vocabolo
specifico per indicare la proprietà: poichè mentre i primi esprimono la
proprietà coi concetti di meum e di tuum, di heredium, di praedium, di
mancipium, i Germani invece la indicano coi vocaboli di Land, Erbe, Eigen,
Allod, Sundern (pag. 14 ). Così pure anche presso i Germani occorrono quei
consortia, che presso le genti italiche erano indicati coi vocaboli di « ercto
non cito ». Questi consortia parimenti esistono sopratutto fra fra telli, e
talora anche fra zii e nipoti, che continuano spontaneamente nella comunione
(SCHUPFER, pag. 52), e richiamano così la familia omnium agnatorum. — Infine la
vera proprietà privata formasi presso i due popoli nella stessa guisa. Al modo
stesso, che la prima proprietà privata in Roma fu un assegno sull'ager
gentilicius o sull'ager publicus, così anche la proprietà privata, presso i
popoli germanici, seguendo sempre la guida sicura del prof. Schupfer, fu anche
essa una sors, un lotto, un assegno (pag. 63); accanto al quale però si svolge
eziandio il concetto dell'adquisitum la bore suo (pag. 60), il quale, salvo il
linguaggio, non presenta poi grande differenza dal manucaptum dei latini. È poi
anche degno di nota, che questo nucleo cen trale della proprietà privata presso
i Germani, al pari che presso gli antichi Ro mani, è costituito da un podere o
da una abitazione rustica, a cui trovasi annessa una certa quantità di terra,
che in massima avrebbe dovuto essere invariabile (pag. 63 ). Il medesimo poi è
indicato coi nomi dimansus, di hoba, di sedimen, i quali proba bilmente portano
eziandio con sè quella idea di residenza, che era indicata anche dai vocaboli
di mancipium e di dominium. Che anzi, come già notava lo Schupfer, p. 78, anche
l'uomo libero longobardo, che si chiama arimanno, indica la sua libera pro
prietà col vocabolo di arimanna, al modo stesso che il quirite addimandava la
sua proprietà esclusiva « dominium ex iure quiritium ». Infine questa proprietà
si acquista, si trasmette e si rivendica con modi, che ricordano l'usucapio, la
manci. patio e l'actio sacramento dei Romani (SCHUPFER, Op. cit., pag. 122, 138
e 160 ). Intanto però, accanto alle analogie, che dimostrano la costanza delle
leggi che go vernano l'evoluzione della proprietà, sonvi anche le differenze,
che sono determinate dal diverso temperamento dei popoli. Mentre infatti il
popolo romano, giunto una volta al concetto della proprietà individuale, ne fa
una costruzione tipica, che estende a poco a poco a tutte le cose, che sono in
commercio, e che svolge in tutte le sue conseguenze logiche, i popoli germanici
invece non giungono a questa concezione tipica; quindi mentre la proprietà
romana è una sola, la proprietà germanica, come ben nota lo ScuuPFER, non potrà
mai richiamarsi a un solo tipo (pag. 75). Di più mentre i Romani, una volta
raggiunta la proprietà quiritaria, la disgiunsero affatto dall'ambiente
gentilizio, e si concentrarono esclusivamente nello svolgimento di essa,
pressochè lasciando in disparte la proprietà collettiva prima esistente, i
popoli ger manici invece, compresi anche gli Anglo-Sassoni, non giunsero mai a
districare com piutamente la proprietà privata dall' involucro feudale da cui
era uscita, o se lo fecero vi giunsero solo per imitazione della proprietà,
quale era stata modellata dai Romani, nè spinsero mai la logica della
istituzione a conseguenze così estreme, come i Romani (pag. 82). Ciò è vero
sopratutto della proprietà inglese, la quale, uscita dall'organizzazione
feudale, continua sempre a serbarne le traccie in quella serie di gradazioni e
di distinzioni, che ancor oggi la contraddistinguono. Vedi, quanto alla
proprietà inglese, il Williams, Principii del diritto di proprietà reale, trad.
Ca negallo, Firenze, 1873 e il POLLOCH, The Land Laws, Edinburgh. Il ius
quiritium ed i concetti di commercium, connubium, actio. 359. Fin qui ho
cercato di ricomporre il quirite negli elementi essenziali del suo status, e di
seguire le trasformazioni, che si vennero introducendo man mano in ciascuno di
questi elementi. Ricostruendo cosi il primitivo diritto, fummo condotti ad una
con figurazione giuridica del quirite, la quale, ancorchè rigida e com passata,
si presenta però organica e coerente in tutte le sue parti. Resta ora la parte
più difficile di questa ricostruzione, quella cioè di cercare, come mai una
figura cosi automatica potesse entrare in rapporti con altre individualità
foggiate sullo stesso modello, e dare cosi origine a quella infinita varietà di
negozii, in cui il quirite pud essere chiamato a svolgere la propria attività
giuridica. Non è quindi meraviglia, se qui sopratutto apparisca sorprendente il
magi stero dei veteres iuris conditores, in quanto che non trattavasi solo più
di notomizzare e di scomporre lo status del quirite, ma di mettere il medesimo
in movimento ed in azione, valendosi di pochissimi mezzi per dar forma
giuridica alla varietà grandissima dei negozii, che si venivano moltiplicando
col formarsi e collo svol gersi della convivenza cittadina. Anche qui la supposizione
più ovvia intorno al magistero seguito dai modellatori del primitivo diritto,
sarebbe che essi, da uomini pratici quali erano, fossero venuti introducendo le
istituzioni, a mi sura che se ne presentava il bisogno, e che perciò il diritto
privato di Roma, almeno in questa parte, debba essere considerato come il
frutto di una evoluzione lenta e graduata, determinata sopratutto dalle
condizioni economiche e sociali del popolo romano (1). Lo studio invece delle
vestigia, che a noi pervennero dell'antico ius quiritium, mi hanno
profondamente convinto, che il medesimo, anche in questa parte, che potrebbe
chiamarsi la dinamica del diritto quiritario, sia stato il frutto di una specie
di elaborazione e selezione potente, (1) Tale sarebbe l'idea, forse alquanto
preconcetta, a cui sembra ispirarsi l'opera del Puglia col titolo: Studii di
storia di diritto romano, secondo i risultati della filosofia scientifica,
Messina, 1886. 459 che venne operandosi su materiali giuridici preesistenti, la
quale ebbe ad essere guidata da una logica e da una tecnica giuridica, non
dissimile da quella, che abbiamo riscontrata nella parte statica del diritto
quiritario. Vi ha tuttavia questa differenza, che mentre le basi fondamentali
dello status del quirite furono fissate, pressochè contemporaneamente,
dall'avvenimento importantissimo del censo ser viano; lo svolgimento invece
della parte del diritto quiritario, che si riferisce al negozio giuridico, fu
l'effetto di una elaborazione più lenta e graduata, la quale si operd man mano,
che veniva accomu nandosi il diritto fra il patriziato e la plebe, e che le
loro rispettive istituzioni si fondevano insieme nell'attrito della vita
cittadina. 360. Che questo sia stato il processo, con cui si formò eziandio la
parte dinamica del ius quiritium, risulta da una quantità gran dissima di
indizii, fra cui basterà qui di ricordare i più importanti. È indubitabile
anzitutto che, anche nella parte relativa al negozio giuridico, il ius
quiritium non prende le mosse da questo o da quel fatto particolare, ma parte
invece senz'altro da concetti sin tetici e comprensivi, quali sarebbero quelli
del commercium, del connubium e dell'actio, i quali tutti hanno una larghissima
signi ficazione, e sembrano già preesistere nel periodo gentilizio, anteriore
alla fondazione della città. Cosi pure è certo, che il primitivo ius quiritium
non viene già creando le forme giuridiche, a misura che si vengono svolgendo i
nuovi rapporti giuridici, ma compare invece con certe forme tipiche,
efficacemente modellate, nelle quali cerca poi di fare entrare, anche
forzatamente, quei nuovi rapporti giuri dici, a cui dà argomento la convivenza
civile e politica. È in questa guisa, che un solo atto, quale sarà, ad esempio,
l'atto per aes et libram, finirà per servire alle applicazioni più disparate.
Che anzi è facile eziandio di scorgere, che il ius quiritium, nelle diverse
serie di rapporti giuridici da esso governati, presentasi dapprima con
istituzioni tipiche, che costituiscono in certo modo il nucleo centrale,
intorno a cui si vengono poi consolidando le istituzioni, che hanno qualche
affinità con quelle già formate. Così, ad esenipio, non vi ha dubbio, che il
ius quiritium riconosce una forma tipica di matrimonio, che è il matrimonio cum
manu; un atto quiritario per eccellenza, che è l'atto per aes et libram; come
pure una legis actio essenzialmente quiritaria, che è l'actio sacramento.
Convien perciò conchiudere, che anche in questa parte del diritto quiritario
non si accettano i materiali giuridici, quali che essi siano; - 460 - ma si
viene operando una specie di scelta fra i medesimi, e soltanto si adottano
quelli, che possano convenire al concetto fondamentale, che è quello del
quirite. È quindi evidente, che per giungere ad una ricostruzione di questa
parte del ius quiritium conviene in certo modo assecondare le leggi della sua
naturale formazione, cominciando dal cercare: lº quali siano i concetti
fondamentali, da cui prende le mosse la formazione di questa parte del ius
quiritium; 2 ° la pro venienza di questi concetti e l'elaborazione, che essi
subiscono en trando nel diritto quiritario; 3º l'ordine progressivo, con cui
questi varii concetti vennero penetrando e consolidandosi nella elabora zione
del ius quiritium. 361. Quanto ai concetti fondamentali, da cui prende le mosse
la dinamica del diritto quiritario, essi sono senz'alcun dubbio quelli del
connubium, del commercium, dell'actio. Cid pud inferirsi anzitutto dalla
circostanza, che tutti questi concetti già si erano elaborati nel periodo
gentilizio, nei rapporti fra i capi delle famiglie e delle genti, e quindi era
naturale, che questi, entrando a far parte della comunanza quiritaria, li
applicassero eziandio nei loro rapporti come quiriti, tanto più che il quirite,
pur essendo un individuo, continuava ancora ad essere un capo gruppo. A ciò si
aggiunge, che questi concetti si adattavano mirabilmente alla concezione tipica
del quirite, quale era stata determinata sopratutto dal censo e dalla
costituzione serviana. Il quirite infatti presentavasi nella doppia qualità di
capo di famiglia e di proprietario di terra, i quali due caratteri, nella
sintesi primitiva, sembravano in certo modo immede simarsi fra di loro, come lo
dimostrano le concezioni del caput, della manus e del mancipium. Era quindi
naturale, che siccome le istitu zioni fondamentali del diritto quiritario si
riducevano alla famiglia ed alla proprietà, così le varie manifestazioni
dell'attività giuridica del quirite si richiamassero: o al concetto del
connubium, da cui di scende appunto l'organizzazione della famiglia; o a quella
del com mercium, in cui comprendonsi tutti i negozii, a cui porge occasione la
circolazione e lo scambio della proprietà. — Le une e le altre ma nifestazioni
poi trovavano la propria difesa nell'actio, che serviva a tutelare il quirite
sotto l'uno e sotto l'altro aspetto, non essendovi ancora la distinzione fra i
diritti reali e personali. Questi concetti pertanto, trasportati nel ius
quiritium, si cambiarono, per così dire, in altrettanti capisaldi, da cui si
vennero staccando i varii aspetti, sotto cui pud esplicarsi l'attività
giuridica del quirite; co 461 sicchè anche più tardi, per mettere ordine nello
svolgimento copioso della giurisprudenza romana, Gaio dovette di necessità
ricorrere ad una distinzione, che richiama quella antichissima del connubium,
del commercium e dell'actio (1). Tutto il diritto infatti, che si ri ferisce
alle persone, considerate sotto il punto di vista esclusiva mente privato,
sembra metter capo al concetto del connubium; quello invece, che si riferisce
alle cose, non è che uno svolgimento del commercium; e quello infine, che
riguarda le azioni, non è che una derivazione da quella legis actio, che
costituì la procedura pri mitiva propria dei quiriti. Del resto sono gli stessi
giureconsulti romani che, dopo aver distinto i diritti pubblici dai privati,
finirono per richiamare questi ultimi ai due diritti fondamentali del con
nubium e del commercium, somministrandoci così, almeno questa volta, una chiave
di quella dialettica fondamentale, che stringe ed unifica il molteplice
svolgimento della giurisprudenza romana (2). 362. Per quello poi, che si
riferisce alla provenienza di questi concetti direttivi di questa parte del ius
quiritium, non può esservi dubbio, che essa deve essere cercata nel periodo
gentilizio, il che credo di avere largamente dimostrato a suo tempo (3). Vuolsi
perd aggiungere, che questi concetti, i quali prima avevano governato dei
rapporti fra i capi di famiglia e delle genti, allorchè furono tras portati nei
rapporti fra quiriti, si trasformarono in altrettante basi del diritto
spettante ai quiriti, cosicchè dal connubium derivd il ius connubii ex iure
quiritium; dal commercium il ius commercii pure ex iure quiritium; e infine
dall’actio il sistema delle legis actiones, che è parimenti proprio della
comunanza quiritaria. Questi concetti pertanto cessarono di avere uno
svolgimento pura mente estensivo, come era accaduto nei rapporti fra le
famiglie e le genti, ma ricevettero eziandio uno svolgimento intensivo;
cosicchè (1) Intendo qui parlare della nota distinzione di Gaio, Comm., I, 8: «
Omne autem ius, quo utimur, vel ad personas pertinet, vel ad res, vel ad
actiones ». Quanto alle obbiezioni che si fecero, sopratutto dal Savigny, al
valore di questa distinzione, vedi quanto si è detto al n ° 97, pag. 124, nota
1. (2) È sopratutto Ulpiano, checerca di abbracciare nei due larghissimi
concetti di connubium e di commercium tutto l'esplicarsi dell'attività
giuridica del qui rite. V. Ulp., Fragm., V, 3, quanto al connubium, e XIX, 5
quanto al commercium. Quanto all'uno e all'altro concetto cfr. il Voigt, XII
Tafeln, I, pag. 244 e. 274, coi passi ivi citati, ed il MUIRHEAD, Histor.
Introd., pag. 108 e 109. (3 ) V. sopra lib. I, cap. VI, SS 2 e 3, pag. 123 a
138. 402 ciascuno di essi venne ad essere una propaggine di quel diritto pri
vilegiato, cui i Romani diedero dapprima il nomedi ius quiritium, e che più
tardi chiamarono ius proprium civium romanorum. Cosi, ad esempio, il connubium
nel periodo gentilicio, era il di ritto di imparentarsi fra di loro, che
esisteva fra i membri delle genti, che appartenevano al medesimo nomen.
Trasportato invece nella comunanza quiritaria, esso venne a trasformarsi nel
ius con nubii ex iure quiritium. Secondo Ulpiano infatti « connubium est uxoris
iure ducendae facultas », ossia il diritto di addive nire alle giuste nozze
riconosciute dal ius quiritium, e di godere cosi di tutti i diritti, che in
base al medesimo derivavano da queste giuste nozze, cioè: della manus sulla
moglie, fino a che il matrimonio cum manu costitui il matrimonio tipico del
cittadino romano; della patria potestas sui figli, che anche più tardi i
giureconsulti consideravano come istituzione peculiare al popolo romano. Che
anzi, siccome anche l'istituto dell'arrogazione e dell'adozione, come pure
quello della successione e della tutela le gittima nel diritto romano avevano
stretta attinenza coll'organiz zazione domestica e col principio
dell'agnazione, che stava a fonda mento della medesima, cosi anche queste
istituzioni apparvero nel primitivo ius quiritium, come una dipendenza del
connubium, considerato come un ius proprium civium romanorum. 363. Lo stesso è
pure a dirsi del commercium. Il medesimo, nei rapporti fra le genti, era il
diritto di addivenire ai reciproci scambii « emendi vendendique invicem
potestas »; ma allorchè invece venne ad essere trapiantato fra i quiriti, i
quali come tali avevano una proprietà speciale e privilegiata, che era la
proprietà ex iure quiritium, esso venne a cambiarsi nel ius commercii ex iure
qui ritium, ossia nel diritto di addivenire a tutti quei negozii giuridici, di
carattere mercantile, che erano stati adottati come proprii dalla comunanza dei
quiriti. Questi negozii poi nel primitivo ius qui ritium e ancora nella
legislazione decemvirale, si presentano sotto tre forme fondamentali, che sono:
lº il facere nexum, che è il diritto di potersi obbligare nella forma e cogli
effetti riconosciuti dal diritto quiritario; 2° il facere mancipium, che è il
diritto di acquistare e trasmettere la prima proprietà quiritaria, consistente
appunto nel mancipium, colle forme riconosciute dal diritto quiritario; 3º e in
fine il facere testamentum, che è il diritto di acquistare o di tras mettere
un'eredità, mediante il testamento riconosciuto dal diritto 463 quiritario,
donde il vocabolo di testamenti factio (1). Che anzi l'unità primordiale di
questi varii negozii, in cui si estrinseca il ius commercii ex iure quiritium,
viene ad essere messa in evi denza anche da ciò, che tutti questi negozii
finiscono per compiersi con una sola forma tipica, che è quella dell'atto per
aes et libram, e tutti appariscono foggiati sullo stesso modello. Basta perciò
considerare, che il nexum indica un vincolo, che ha del fisico e del giuridico
ad un tempo, il mancipium sembra inchiudere ad un tempo il possesso e la
proprietà, e infine il testamentum, sotto un aspetto ha tutte le apparenze di
un negozio tra vivi, e sotto un altro è già un atto per causa di morte, e non
produce i suoi effetti, che per il tempo in cui il testatore avrà cessato di
vivere. Così pure l'unità di origine di questi varii negozii e il loro
diramarsi dal concetto, che il proprietario ex iure quiritium deve poter
liberamente disporre delle proprie cose, viene anche ad essere dimostrata dalla
circostanza, che di fronte a tutti questi atti la legislazione decemvirale
proclama il principio: « uti lingua nuncupassit », o quello analogo: « uti
legassit, ita ius esto ». 364. Da ultimo accade eziandio una trasformazione
analoga nel concetto dell'actio. Questa nel periodo gentilizio era la procedura
solenne, consacrata dal costume, a cui doveva attenersi il capo di famiglia, il
cui diritto fosse disconosciuto e violato, e la medesima poteva anche dar luogo
ad una effettiva violenza fra i contendenti, quando essi non avessero potuto
venire ad un amichevole compo nimento (2 ). Allorchè invece l'actio compare nel
ius quiritium, essa imita bensì ancora la procedura anteriore allo stabilimento
della ci vile giustizia, ma intanto già si compie in iure, cioè davanti al
magistrato riconosciuto come capo e custode della città. Di più questa actio
non può più seguire arbitrariamente questa o quella pratica, introdottasi nel
costume, ma deve invece essere accomodata alla legge, ed ai termini di essa.
Essa cessa perciò di essere,un'actio qualsiasi, ma diventa una legis actio, e
viene così a cam (1) Fra gli autori, che dànno questa larga significazione così
al connubium, che al commercium, accennerò il LANGE, Histoire intérieure de
Rome, pag. 13, in nota, il quale pur riconosce, che questi concetti dovettero
prima aver origine nei rapporti fra le varie genti. (2 ) Quanto alle origini
dell'actio nel periodo gentilizio e ai caratteri della mede sima, vedi sopra
lib. I, cap. VI, § 3, pag. 130 a 138. 464 biarsi nel diritto di far valere le
proprie ragioni davanti al ma gistrato, nella forma che è riconosciuta dal
diritto quiritario. Quindi è, che anche la procedura quiritaria sembra prendere
le mosse da un'azione tipica, che è l'actio sacramento, la quale può anche essa
essere considerata come il nucleo centrale, da cui si verrà poi derivando non
solo tutto il sistema delle legis actiones, ma in parte eziandio il sistema
delle formulae. È poi quest'origine gentilizia dei concetti fondamentali del
diritto quiritario, che spiega eziandio, senza bisogno di ricorrere a quello
spirito formalista del popolo romano, che fu ormai abbastanza sfrut tato, le
cerimonie solenni, che accompagnano gli atti di carattere quiritario: poichè
anche queste solennità dovevano un tempo accom pagnare gli atti, che
intervenivano fra i capi delle famiglie e delle genti, in quanto
rappresentavano il proprio gruppo, e avevano cosi una importanza, che spiega le
formalità, da cui erano circondati (1). 365. Resta ora a determinarsi l'ordine
progressivo, con cui si vennero consolidando questi varii aspetti del primitivo
ius quiritium. Anche qui ci mancano le testimonianze dirette, perchè i veteres
iuris conditores, secondo la testimonianza di Cicerone, non amavano divulgare
il segreto dell'arte loro (2); ma abbiamo tuttavia una quantità di fatti, che
possono servirci di guida. Così noi sappiamo anzitutto, che la prima parte del
diritto, che ebbe ad essere comune al patriziato ed alla plebe, fu certamente
quella relativa al commercium, e quindi viene ad esser naturale, che
l'elaborazione di un ius quiritium, comune ai due ordini, inco minciasse da
quegli atti, che si riferiscono al commercium. Questa circostanza verrebbe poi
ad essere eziandio confermata dal fatto, che la parte di antichissima
legislazione civile, che sarebbe da Dionisio attribuita a Servio Tullio, si
riferirebbe appunto ai con tratti, la cui azione dispiegasi appunto nella parte
relativa al com (1) Tralascio qui ogni maggior spiegazione intorno alle origini
del formalismo romano, perchè ebbi già ad occuparmene al n ° 94, pag. 117 e
segg. e sopratutto nella nota 1a a pag. 118, ove si presero in esame le opinioni,
in proposito emesse, dal Sumner-Maine e dal Jhering. (2) Cic., De Orat., I, 42,
lagnandosi delle difficoltà, che ai suoi tempi ancora accompagnavano lo studio
del diritto, dice espressamente, che una delle cause di queste difficoltà deve
essere riposta nella circostanza che « veteres illi, qui buic scientiae
praefuerunt, obtinendae atque augendae potentiae suae caussa, pervulgari artem
suam noluerunt ». 465 mercium. Cosi pure abbiamo un'altra conferma di questo
fatto nella circostanza, che, all'epoca della legislazione decemvirale, già si
presentano come compiutamente formati i tre negozii giuridici attinenti al ius
commercii, cioè il nexum, il mancipium ed il testa mentum; cosicchè in questa
parte viene ad essere evidente, che le leggi delle XII Tavole non fecero che
confermare uno stato di cose già preesistente, e si limitarono a dire, che in
questa specie di negozii, la volontà del quirite doveva essere sovrana, per
modo che la sua parola costituisse legge (1). Infine un argomento indiretto di
questa precedenza l'abbiamo anche in questo, che la forma dell'atto commerciale
per eccellenza, che è l'atto per aes et libram, ebbe più tardi ad essere
applicata eziandio in atti relativi al ius con nubii, come nella coemptio,
nell'adoptio e simili: il che significa, che l'atto per aes et libram già
doveva essersi formato prima, che si addivenisse alla concessione dei connubii
fra patriziato e plebe, la quale segui solo più tardi. Mi pare ciò stante di
poter conchiudere, che la parte del ius quiritium, relativa al commercium, fu
la prima ad elaborarsi ed a consolidarsi, e che deve attribuirsi a questo
motivo, se lo svolgi mento posteriore del diritto romano appare costantemente
modellato sul concetto del mio e del tuo. È questo il concetto espresso da
Ulpiano, allorchè scrive: omne ius consistit aut in acquirendo, aut in
conservando, aut in minuendo; aut enim hoc agitur, quem admodum quis rem vel
ius suum conservet, aut quomodo alienet, aut quomodo amittat (2); ma la causa
storica, che determinò questo carattere peculiare del diritto romano, deve
essere riposta nel fatto, che la parte del ius quiritium, relativa al
commercium, fu la prima a consolidarsi, e costitui in certo modo il nucleo
centrale della for mazione, cosicchè tutte le parti, che si aggiunsero più
tardi, ne ri sentirono l'influenza e ne conservarono l'impronta. Quando si
tratto infatti di rendere comune anche la parte relativa al connubium, si
trovarono già formati i concetti relativi alla proprietà, e quindi anche il
diritto del marito, del padre, del padrone furono model (1) Cid non può lasciar
dubbio quanto al nexum ed al mancipium, che già si presentano nelle XII Tavole
come istituzioni compiutamente svolte, ed è confermato eziandio, quanto al
testamentum, da ULPIANO, il quale dice espressamente, che le suc cessioni
testamentarie e i tutori nominati per testamento furono confermati dalle XII
Tavole. Fragm., XI, 14. (2) Ulp., L. 41, Dig. (1-4 ). G. CARLE, Le origini del
diritto di Roma. 30 - 466 lati su quello di proprietà. Cosi pure quando si
tratto di model lare le azioni, tutto si ridusse ad una questione di mio o di
tuo, si trattasse di rivendicare una cosa qualsiasi, oppure la moglie od un
figlio. Quindi è che la rigidezza, che a questo riguardo presenta il primitivo
ius quiritium, non proviene già da una confusione, che si facesse fra i diritti
di famiglia ed i diritti di proprietà, ma bensi da ciò, che essendosi nel ius
quiritium modellato prima il diritto di proprietà, anche le elaborazioni
posteriori ne conservarono l'im pronta. Ciò è anche provato dal fatto, che
nelle fonti l'espressione di ius quiritium è sopratutto adoperata relativamente
alla proprietà ed al commercio; cosa del resto, che è facile a comprendersi,
quando si consideri, che la comunanza quiritaria all'epoca serviana si formo
appunto in base alla proprietà ed al censo. 366. Noi possiamo invece affermare
con certezza, che fu solo assai più tardi, che il ius connubii entrò a formar
parte di quella singolare costruzione giuridica, che porta il nome prima di ius
qui ritium e poscia quello di ius proprium civium romanorum; poichè fu soltanto
colla legge Canuleia, che si riusci ad abolire il divieto del connubio dei
patrizii colla plebe. Malgrado di ciò, si può essere certi, che, anche prima di
quest'epoca, la parte più ricca ed agiata della plebe già aveva cercato di
accostarsi alla organizzazione della famiglia patrizia. Ciò è abbastanza
dimostrato dal fatto, che i de cemviri considerarono la famiglia fondata
sull'agnazione, come la famiglia propria dei quiriti, e cercarono anzi di
fornire alla plebe un mezzo semplicissimo per addivenire al matrimonio cum
manu, mezzo che consiste nella coabitazione di un anno, non interrotta per tre
notti di seguito. Allorchè poi colla legge Canuleia furono leciti i connubii
fra il patriziato e la plebe, era naturale, che l'atto quiritario per
eccellenza venisse ad essere applicato anche in que st'argomento. Probabilmente
dovette essere allora, che fra le forme del matrimonio cum manu, di cui una era
la confarreatio, propria del patriziato, e l'altra l'usus, propria della plebe,
venne svolgendosi. la forma del matrimonio, che può ritenersi come quiritaria
per ec cellenza, cioè quella per coemptionem. Intanto questo trapianto del
l'organizzazione domestica, propria del patriziato, nel ius quiritium, comune
ai due ordini, fece si che la famiglia quiritaria si fondasse esclusivamente
sulla patria potestà e sull’agnazione, e che perciò anche la successione e la
tutela legittima fossero deferite, in base alla legislazione decemvirale, agli
eredi suoi, agli agnati e in loro 407 mancanza ai gentili. Fu sopratutto in
questa parte, che l'organiz zazione gentilizia del patriziato riusci a
penetrare nel diritto quiri tario; donde la conseguenza, che il ius connubii e
la conseguente organizzazione della famiglia finiscono per essere la parte
dell'an tico diritto, in cui rivelasi più tenace e persistente lo spirito
conser vatore dell'antico patriziato romano (1 ). 367. La parte infine del
diritto primitivo, che ultima sarebbe entrata nella compagine del ius quiritium,
deve ritenersi essere quella, che si riferisce alle legis actiones. Non è già,
che anche in questa parte non vi fossero dei materiali preesistenti: ma,
secondo l'attestazione concorde degli stessi giureconsulti, fu soltanto poste
riormente alla legislazione decemvirale è in base alle parole stesse della
medesima, che sarebbe stato modellato il sistema delle legis actiones. Che anzi
si può affermare con certezza, che questa parte del primitivo diritto di Roma
fu certamente dovuta alla elaborazione dei pontefici, i quali, come custodi delle
tradizioni patrizie, spie garono sopratutto in questa parte la loro tecnica
giuridica, e cer tamente seguirono quel processo di costruzione logica, che
erasi già adottato nelle altre parti del diritto quiritario. Furono quindi
essi, che introdussero, quale azione tipica del diritto quiritario, l'actio
sacramento, la quale può essere considerata come il germe di tutto lo
svolgimento posteriore della procedura quiritaria: come pure furono essi, che
si fecero gli iniziatori di quell'arte meravigliosa di accomodare l'azione alla
varietà infinita delle fattispecie, che si potevano presentare, la quale giunse
poi a tanta eccellenza per opera del pretore nel sistema per formulas. Non
ignoro che l'opinione qui professata, secondo cui le legis actiones sarebbero
state le ultime a penetrare nella compagine del ius quiritium o meglio del ius
proprium civium romanorum, sebbene appoggiata all'attestazione degli antichi
giureconsulti, sembra (1) Le affermazioni, che qui sono semplicemente
enunciate, verranno poi ad essere meglio comprovate nel capo V, ove trattasi
diproposito del ius connubii. È notabile, quanto al connubium, che
l'espressione ad perata nelle fonti non è più quella di ius quiritium, la quale
sopratutto si adopera in tema di proprietà, ma è già quella di ius proprium
civium romanorum. La causa di questo cambiamento sta in ciò che il connubium
venne ad essere comune dopo le XII Tavole, cioè quando al concetto più
circoscritto del ius quiritium già cominciava a sovrapporsi il concetto più
largo di un ius civile, ossia di un ius proprium civium romanorum. 168
contraddire alla opinione oggidi molto seguita, secondo cui le actiones
avrebbero avuta la precedenza su tutte le altre parti del diritto quiritario (1).
Credo quindi opportuno di avvertire, che io pure ammetto, che in quella
evoluzione lenta dei concetti giuridici, che ebbe ad avverarsi nel periodo
gentilizio, il concetto che prima venne a svolgersi, fu certamente quello di
actio (2 ): ma così invece più non accadde nell'elaborazione del ius quiritium.
Questo infatti è già una costruzione organica e coerente, che prese le mosse
dal concetto del quirite, come individualità giuridica integra e perfetta, e
che in base al medesimo cominciò dapprima dal modellare la pro prietà, a lui
spettante; poscia gli attribui il connubio; da ultimo provvide anche alle
azioni, che potevano tutelarlo nei suoi diritti di proprietà e famiglia: donde
la conseguenza, che il ius quiritium, essendo già un'opera riflessa, accolse
talvolta più tardi istituzioni, che nella realtà dovettero svolgersi per le
prime (3 ). Intanto questo sguardo complessivo alla progressiva formazione del
ius quiritium ha ' per noi una grandissima importanza, in quanto che mantenendo
nella ricostruzione l'ordine stesso, che ebbe ad essere seguito nella naturale
formazione del ius quiritium, si potrà giungere a spiegare certi caratteri
peculiari del diritto pri mitivo di Roma, che altrimenti riuscirebbero
incomprensibili. La materia intanto verrà ad essere naturalmente ripartita in
tre capi toli, di cui il primo si occuperà del ius commercii, l'altro del ius
connubii, e l'ultimo delle legis actiones. (1) Fra gli altri sembra attribuire
questa precedenza all'actio sulle altre parti del diritto civile romano il
Cogliolo, Saggi sopra l'evoluzione del diritto privato, Torino, 1885, pag. 105
e segg. (2 ) Ho cercato altrove di spiegare questo carattere delle società
primitive, che al punto di vista attuale pud apparire alquanto singolare nella
Vita del diritto nei suoi rapporti colla vita sociale, Torino, 1880, pag. 40.
(3 ) Per una più larga discussione intorno al modo, in cui si formarono le
legis actiones, mi rimetto al cap. VI ed ultimo, § 1º, ove trattasi appunto di
quest'ar gomento. - 469 CAPITOLO IV. Il ius commercii nel diritto quiritario. $
1. Il commercium e l'atto per aes et libram. 368. Se havvi parte del ius
quiritium, che sia modellata in per fetta correlazione con quella individualità
giuridica, integra e com piuta, che era il quirite, è quella certamente, che si
riferisce al ius commercii. In questa parte la volontà del quirite apparisce
indi pendente e sovrana; la sua parola costituisce una vera legge;" e non
trovasi imposto altro limite e confine al suo potere, salvo quello, che deriva
dalla osservanza delle forme solenni, che sono ricono sciute ed adottate dal
diritto quiritario. Il quirite infatti, quale pro prietario, può disporre delle
sue cose fino ad abusarne, e può alienarle nel modo solenne proprio dei quiriti
(facere mancipium ); quale debitore può obbligare se stesso fino a vincolare la
libertà della propria persona (facere nexum ) per il caso in cui non soddisfi
il suo debito, e come creditore può appropriarsi perfino la persona ed il corpo
del debitore; come testatore infine può disporre in qual siasi modo del suo
patrimonio, dimenticando anche di avere de' figli. Si può quindi affermare, che
i tre atti fondamentali, in cui si esplica il ius commercii ex iure quiritium,
sono tutti governati dal con cetto, che la volontà del quirite non deve aver
limite o confine: concetto, che, quanto al nexum ed al mancipium, viene enun
ciato con dire « uti lingua nuncupassit, ita ius esto », e quanto al
testamento, colle parole: « uti pater familias super familia tute lave suae
rei, legassit, ita ius esto (1) ». E questa la parte, in cui « uti (1) Mentre
nella ricostruzione del Dirksen, seguita dal Bruns, Fontes, pag. 22 e 2.3, la
disposizione: « Cum nexum faciet mancipiumque, uti lingua nuncupassit, ita ius
esto » sarebbe la legge 1º della Tavola VI; secondo la ricostruzione del Voigt
invece, essa viene ad essere la 1° della Tavola V. Così pure la disposizione
legassit super pecunia tutelave suae rei, ita ius esto », che nella
ricostruzione del Dirksen è la terza della Tavola V, in quella del Voigt viene
ad essere la prima della Tavola IV. Ciò dimostra quanto sia grande, anche oggi,
l'incertezza intorno all'ordine dei frammenti delle XII Tavole. - 470 domina
sovrana la nuncupatio, e quindi si comprende come tanto nelle obbligazioni,
quanto nei trasferimenti del dominio, quanto nei testamenti abbia avuto cosi
larga parte lo studio delle espressioni adoperate. Queste espressioni infatti
nel concetto primitivo costitui vano delle vere leggi, come lo dimostrano
ancora le espressioni ado perate di lex mancipii, di lex testamenti, di lex
fiduciae e simili, colle quali si comprendevano le varie clausole, che potevano
essere apposte ad un trasferimento del dominio, o ad un testamento (1 ).
L'unità poi, che domina tutta questa parte del primitivo ius qui ritium, viene
anche ad essere provata dal fatto, che un medesimo atto tipico, che può
chiamarsi l'atto quiritario per eccellenza, fini per servire quale mezzo per
compiere tutti questi negozii giuridici. 369. L'opinione, ora generalmente
seguita, intorno all'atto tipico del diritto quiritario, sembra ritenere, che
tale atto debba essere riposto nella mancipatio, argomentando dalla larga
applicazione, che questa ebbe a ricevere, ogni qualvolta trattavasi di
trasferire la manus, intesa nel senso di potestà giuridica sopra una cosa o
sopra una persona (2 ). Parmi invece, che le poche vestigia, che a noi
pervennero dall'antico diritto, conducano a ritenere, che la forma (1 ) Il
vocabolo di lex, come significò la clausola di un contratto o di un testa
mento, così indicò eziandio le condizioni pubblicamente prescritte per i
luoghidesti nati ad uso pubblico o comune. Vedi Bruns, Fontes, Pars II, Negotia,
Caput I, pag. 240. Quanto agli altri significati del vocabolo di lex, nel
primitivo diritto ro mano, vedi sopra nº 228, pag. 278. (2) Tra gli autori
recenti, che cercarono di ricostruire il primitivo diritto romano, poggiandosi
sul concetto di manus, in quanto comprende i poteri sulle cose e sulle persone,
e sulla mancipatio, quale mezzo generale per il trasferimento delle manus, deve
essere ricordato il Voigt, XII Tafeln, II, pag. 83 a 345. Anche il lavoro del
dott. Longo, La mancipatio, Firenze, 1887, è un tentativo in questo senso.
Questi verrebbe alla conclusione, che la mancipatio, quale a noi pervenne,
sarebbe una reliquia di un atto più antico e più solenne, il quale in origine
avrebbe dovuto compiersi in calatis comitiis, e che sarebbesi applicato ad ogni
acquisto e trasferi mento della inanus. Di quest'atto primitivo egli troverebbe
le traccie nel testamen tum e nell'adrogatio in calatis comitiis.
Quest'opinione, a parer mio, non può am mettersi; perchè la mancipatio comparve
relativamente tardi, e si riduce in sostanza ad una semplice applicazione
dell'atto per aes at libram. Quanto agli atti di diritto privato, in cui
abbiamo ancora l'intervento del populus, essi non indicano già, che tutti gli
atti relativi alla manus richiedessero un tempo l'assistenza del popolo; ma
debbono considerarsi come una sopravvivenza dell'organizzazione gentilizia nel
pe riodo della città; come ho cercato appunto didimostrare ai nn. 220 e 221,
pag. 256 e segg., discorrendo dei calata comitia, e degli atti che compievansi
in essi. 471 tipica del negozio quiritario, debba essere riposto nell'atto per
aes et libram; cosicché la nexi datio, la nexi liberatio, la man cipatio, la
testamenti factio debbono essere riguardate come altret tante applicazioni di
quest'atto primordiale. Cid può essere dedotto anzitutto dal concetto
fondamentale del primitivo ius quiritium, in cui tutto si riduceva ad una
questione di mio e di tuo; donde la conseguenza, che ogni atto relativo al
commercium si riduceva in sostanza a fare in modo, che una cosa di nostra
diventasse altrui (quod de meo tuum fit) mediante un corrispettivo, che può
consistere o nel prezzo, o nell'obbligazione solenne assunta dal de bitore, o
nel corrispettivo di quella finta mancipatio familiae, in cui facevasi
consistere lo stesso testamento: trapasso, che trova vasi mirabilmente
espresso, mediante l'atto per aes et libram. Ed è questo concetto appunto, che
risulta dai passi, che a noi perven nero degli antichi giureconsulti. Questi
passi infatti indicano anzi tutto, che il nexum era un'applicazione dell'atto
per aes et libram, e dapprima quasi confondevasi con esso, poichè era definito:
« omne quod geritur per aes et libram ». Lo stesso è a dirsi del facere
mancipium, in quanto che una parte essenziale della mancipatio, quale è
descritta da Gaio, consiste senz'alcun dubbio eziandio nel l'atto per aes et
libram; il che è pur dimostrato dalla denomina zione stessa del testamento per
aes et libram, il quale si introdusse più tardi, e non fu che una nuova
applicazione dell'atto per aes et libram. Si aggiunga, che questi passi degli
antichi giureconsulti indicano una incertezza intorno alla significazione
primitiva del nexum e del mancipium. Vi sono infatti dei giureconsulti, che nel
nexum comprendono anche il mancipium, mentre altri già distinguono fra l'uno e
l'altro, osservando che dal nexum deriva un obbligazione, mentre col mancipium
si opera la traslazione della proprietà. Questa incertezza appare eziandio
quanto al testamento per aes et libram, il quale sotto un aspetto appare come
una vera vendita o mancipatio familiae, come lo dimostra l'intervento del
familiae venditor e del familiae emptor; mentre sotto un altro aspetto non è
più una vendita nel vero senso della parola, ma è già un vero atto per causa di
morte, poichè il familiae emtor riceve solo in deposito e in custodia il
patrimonio del te statore, accið egli possa liberamente disporne « secundum
legem publicam » per il tempo in cui avrà cessato di vivere (1). (1) Non sarà
inutile riportare qui alcuni dei passi di antichi giureconsulti, che 472 Di qui
pertanto si può ricavare, che nella sintesi primitiva del diritto quiritario
tutto ciò, che riferivasi al commercium, compievasi per aes et libram, col
quale atto esprimevasi lo scambio ed il tra passo, e che solo col tempo in
questa sintesi primitiva si vennero differenziando il nexum, il mancipium, il
testamentum; i quali col tempo procedettero ciascuno per la propria via, ed
informati ad un proprio concetto finirono per dare origine a tre istituzioni
fonda mentali. Col tempo infatti dal nexum scaturi la teoria delle obbli
gazioni, dal mancipium derivò quella dell'alienazione e trasmissione del
dominio e dei diritti reali inchiusi nel medesimo, e dal testa mentum si derivò
tutta la teoria della libera disposizione delle proprie cose per causa di morte,
la quale non potè mai confondersi ed imparentarsi colla successione legittima,
poichè questa nel ius quiritium ebbe un'origine compiutamente diversa, come
sarà di mostrato a suo tempo (1 ). È poi notabile, che il primitivo ius quiri
tium, nella sua sintesi potente, ebbe a ravvisare uno scambio, ed una
trasmissione con corrispettivo, tanto nel contratto, in quanto è fonte di
obbligazioni, quanto nel trasferimento delle proprietà, quanto eziandio nel
testamento, mediante cui l'erede viene in certo modo a dimostrano come il nexum,
il mancipium e il testamentum facere non fossero, che altrettante applicazioni
dell'atto per aes et libram. « Nexum Manilius scribit omne, quod per aes et
libram geritur, in quo sint mancipia ». Varro, De ling. lat., 7, 5, § 105
(AUSCHKE, Iurispr. antiiustin., pag. 6 ); « Nexum, est ut ait Aelius Gallus,
quodcumque per aes et libram geritur, idque necti dicitur; quo in genere sunt
haec: testamenti factio, nexi datio, nexi liberatio » (Hoschke, Op. cit., pag.
96 ). Accanto a questa significazione larghissima, in cui il vocabolo di nexum
comprende ancora « omne quod geritur per aes et libram », sonvi poi altri
passi, che già attribuiscono al nexum una significazione più circoscritta.
Così, ad esempio: « Nexum, Mucius scribit, quae per aes et libram fiunt, ut
obligentur, praeter quae mancipio dentur », la quale opinione sarebbe prevalsa
secondo VARRONE, De ling. lat., VII, 105, il quale aggiunge: « hoc verius esse
ipsum verbum ostendit,de quo quaerit, nam id est quod obligatur per libram,
neque suum fit, inde nexum dictum » (Bruns, Fontes, pag. 386). Quest'ultima
definizione sarebbe pur confermata da Festo, vº Nexum: « Nexum aes apud
antiquos dicebatur pecunia, quae per nexum obligatur » (Bruns, Fontes, pag.
346). Sonvi poi eziandio dei passi, in cui la mancipatio sarebbe indi cata
perfino colla espressione di traditio alteri nexu, quale sarebbe il seguente di
Cic., Top., 5, 28: « Abalienatio est eius rei, quae mancipii est, aut traditio
alteri nexu, aut in iure cessio ». Per altri passi vedi il Voigt, XII Tafeln,
I, pag. 197, nota 7, e II, 482 e segg. (1) La successione legittima non prende
le mosse dal commercium, ma dal con nubium, come sarà dimostrato nel seguente
cap. V, $ 5. - 473 continuare la personalità giuridica del proprio autore, e
viene perciò ad essere obbligato alla continuazione dei sacra. Di qui la
conseguenza, che, per ricostruire in questa parte il ius quiritium, vuolsi
ricomporre anzitutto il primitivo atto per aes et libram, cercare l'epoca in
cui esso penetrò nel ius quiritium, e se guire da ultimo le progressive
applicazioni, che se ne vennero facendo. 370. Più volte ebbe ad essere notato,
che nel diritto romano oc corrono le traccie di un processo, che ha del
matematico, e che taluni vollero attribuire alla influenza di Pitagora, la cui
filosofia, teorica e pratica ad un tempo, poggiava appunto sul numero, come
espres sione dell'ordine e dell'armonia (1). Senza entrare in una simile di
scussione, questo è certo, che non si può a meno di ravvisare questo carattere
di matematica precisione ed esattezza in quel negozio, es senzialmente proprio
dei quiriti, che compare sotto la forma del l'atto per aes et libram; poichè in
esso noi vediamo comparire la persona di un pubblico pesatore, che tiene la
bilancia quasi per de terminare ciò che altri då, e ciò che deve essere
ricevuto in con traccambio. Può darsi benissimo, che quest'atto per aes et
libram abbia avuto origine dalla necessità, in cui i contraenti erano di pesare
l'aes rude, allorchè non erasi ancora introdotto l'aes signa tum: ma intanto si
stenta a credere, che i veteres iuris conditores, allorchè introdussero come
tipico quest'atto nel ius quiritium, e ne prolungarono la vita ben oltre
l'epoca, in cui era veramente neces saria la bilancia, non abbiano ravvisato
nel medesimo come una espressione ed un simbolo della esattezza e della
precisione, che deveaccompagnare il negozio giuridico, e della uguaglianza, che
deve mantenersi fra la cosa ed il prezzo, fra quello che si dà e ciò che si
riceve in contraccambio. Questo è certo, che difficilmente sareb besi potuto
rinvenire un atto, che potesse meglio simboleggiare quella giustizia, che
Aristotele chiamò poi commutativa, e che era quella appunto, che doveva
sovraintendere a quegli scambii, che i Romani inchiudevano col vocabolo di
commercium (2 ). Ad ogni modo l'esistenza presso i Romani di un atto quiritario
« quod geritur per aes et libram » da applicarsi in tutti gli scambii, in tutti
i trapassi, in tutte le contrattazioni, che potessero interve (1) V. ZELLER, La
philosophie des Grecs, trad. Boutroux, I, Paris, 1877, p. 486 e sopratutto la
nota 8, pag. 401. (2 ) Cfr. Carle, La vita del diritto, pag. 132. - 474 nire
fra i quiriti, tanto negli atti tra vivi, quanto eziandio negli atti per causa
di morte, non pud essere posta in dubbio (1). Vero è, che il medesimo non ci
pervenne nelle sue fattezze genuine, ma soltanto nelle applicazioni diverse,
che se ne fecero; ma il fatto stesso che l'atto per aes et libram compare nelle
obbligazioni, nei trasferimenti e nei testamenti dimostra, che esso in certo
modo fra i quiriti compieva quella funzione, che presso di noi ha compiuto,
sopratutto in altri tempi, quello che chiamasi l'atto pubblico ed autentico, il
quale, al pari dell'antico atto per aes et libram, con tinua in certi confini
ancora oggi ad avere la forza e l'efficacia del titolo esecutivo, salvo che
esso sia impugnato di falso (2). Dal momento, che erasi venuto formando per la
comunanza dei quiriti una forma particolare di diritto, che prese il nome di
ius quiritium, era naturale che si modellasse eziandio un atto tipico, che
potesse ser vire nei negozii essenzialmente quiritarii. Esso doveva essere pub
blico, come tutti gli atti, che si compievano fra i quiriti; doveva es sere
fatto colla testimonianza dei quiriti stessi, in quanto che poteva mutare in
qualche modo la posizione rispettiva degli uni verso degli altri nella
comunanza quiritaria, donde l'intervento nel medesimo dei classici testes,
corrispondano o non i medesimi alle cinque classi serviane; doveva esser fatto
coll'intervento di un pubblico ufficiale, che era il libripens, il quale poteva
anche essere inca ricato di denunziare agli uffizii del censo le mutazioni, che
ne derivavano alla condizione dei quiriti; alle quali solennità negli antichi
tempi aggiungevasi eziandio la presenza di un antestator, incaricato in certo
modo di richiamare l'attenzione delle parti e dei testimoni sulla importanza
dell'atto (3). Il medesimo poi, per quanto si può inferire dalle applicazioni (1)
Tra gli autori, che sembrano accostarsi all'idea, che l'atto per aes et libram
costituisca nell'antico diritto la forma solenne per tutti i negozi relativi al
com mercium, parmi di poter annoverare l'HÖLDER, Istituzioni di diritto romano,
$ 28, trad. Caporali. Torino, 1887, pag. 82. (2 ) Cod. civ. it., art. 1317. (3)
Questi varii caratteri del primitivo atto per aes et libram si possono facil
mente ricostruire, ricomponendo insieme la descrizione, che sopratutto Gajo ed
Ul PIANO ci serbarono, dei varii negozii, che compievansi per aes et libram,
quali la nexi datio, la nexi liberatio, la mancipatio, ed il testamentum per
aes et libram, dei quali avremo poi a discorrere partitamente. Quanto all'
antestator o antestatus vedi il Longo, La mancipatio, pag. 74 e segg. 475
diverse, che ne furono fatte, ebbe ad essere costituito di due parti, cioè: lº
dell'atto per aes et libram, il quale, mentre dava al negozio il carattere di
pubblicità e di autenticità, poteva eziandio essere un ricordo effettivo di
un'epoca, in cui l'aes rude serviva di istrumento per gli scambii e doveva
perciò essere pesato colla bilancia; 2º della nuncupatio, che era un complesso
di parole solenni, accomodate alla natura dell'atto, le quali esprimevano con
preci sione ed esattezza il negozio giuridico, che veniva operandosi fra i
contraenti. Mentre la prima parte era un ricordo del passato e conservavasi «
dicis gratia, propter veteris iuris imitationem »; la seconda parte invece
serviva a dargli duttilità e pieghevolezza, e a rendere possibili le
applicazioni diverse, che si fecero dell'atto per aes et libram, non solo ai
negozii giuridici propriamente detti, ma anche agli atti relativi
all'ordinamento della famiglia (1). 371. Quanto al tempo, in cui l'atto per aes
et libram può essere stato introdotto nel ius quiritium, esso non può e non
potrà forse mai essere determinato con certezza, anche per il motivo che il
medesimo può essere stato il frutto di una formazione lenta e gra duata. Egli è
probabile tuttavia, che l'epoca, in cui esso cominciò a formarsi, dovette
essere quella stessa, in cui prese ad elaborarsi un ius quiritium, comune al
patriziato ed alla plebe, e quindi le sue origini possono con probabilità
essere riportate all'epoca della costi tuzione serviana. Fu allora, che
mediante l'istituzione del censo co minciò a delinearsi una proprietà ex iure
quiritium, la quale con sisteva nel mancipium; quindi è probabile, che anche
allora siasi sentito il bisogno di una forma tipica per compiere i negozii
quiri tarii. Questo è certo, che alcuni tratti dell'atto per aes et libram
richiamano l' epoca serviana. Cosi, ad esempio, noi sappiamo, che probabilmente
in quell'epoca dovette avverarsi una trasformazione nel sistema monetario,
poichè presso i primitivi romani il più an tico strumento di scambio non
consistette nel rame, ma nei capi di (1) L'esistenza di questo duplice elemento
nel primitivo atto per aes et libram è già accennato dalla disposizione delle
XII Tavole: « qui nexum faciet, mancipium que, uti lingua nuncupassit, ita ius
esto », e appare poi dall'analisi di tutti i ne gozii, che si compiono per aes
et libram, descrittici sopratutto da Gajo, Comm., II, 104-5 e da Ulp., Fragm.,
XX, 9. - 476 bestiame, e sopratutto nelle pecore e nei buoi, come lo dimostra
la designazione delle multe, che anche più tardi si continuò a fare in questa
guisa. Che se per avventura si volesse ritenere, come fino a un certo punto è
probabile, che l'atto per aes et libram fosse stato anche adottato per
simboleggiare lo scambio, il trapasso, anche questo linguaggio simbolico
corrisponderebbe all'epoca serviana, che è quella che ricorre ai simboli
dell'hasta, della vindicta, e simili. Cosi pure noi sappiamo, chei testimonii
dell'atto per aes et libram chiamavansi quirites, ed è anzi probabile, che
fossero ricavati dalle classi ser viane, come lo dimostra la denominazione di
classici testes: la quale, sebbene sia solo menzionata per i testimonii nel
testamento, può ra gionevolmente essere estesa alle altre applicazioni
dell'atto per aes et libram (1). Infine anche l'intervento di un pubblico
ufficiale in quest'atto sembra essere stato determinato dalla necessità, in cui
si era di conoscere i cambiamenti, che si avveravano nella posizione ri
spettiva dei quiriti. Comunque sia, è però sempre probabile, che anche nella
formazione di quest'atto siasi seguito il processo, che suole es sere adoperato
dai Romani, quello cioè di servirsi di qualche forma già preesistente,
attribuendovi il carattere quiritario, e cambiandola cosi in una forma tipica,
che potrà poi essere capace di applicazioni diverse. Nulla ripugna pertanto,
che l'atto per aes et libram sia stato veramente una realtà nell'epoca, in cui
l'aes rude, non potendo essere numerato, doveva invece essere pesato; ma questo
è certo, che quando quest'atto compare nel ius quiritium, esso viene già (1)
Festo, vº « Classici testes dicebantur, qui signandis testamentis adhibebantur
». La questione se questi classici testes dovessero ritenersi come
rappresentanti delle cinque classi, in quanto che essi non potevano essere meno
di cinque, fu trattata di recente dal Longo, La mancipatio, pag. 83 e segg., il
quale sosterrebbe che i clas sici testes non hanno che fare colla
rappresentanza delle classi. Se con cið egli in tende di dire, che i testimoni
non avevano nessun incarico di rappresentare le cinque classi serviane, ciò può
facilmente essere consentito, poichè, secondo la testimonianza di GaJo, Comm.,
II, 25, questi testi solevano essere amici dei contraenti e potevano perciò
essere presi anche dalla stessa classe: ma intanto non vi ha motivo per ne
gare, che essi fossero chiamati classici, appunto perchè dapprima dovevano
essere presi dalle classi, ossia dagli adsidui e locupletes. Era infatti nello
spirito della costituzione serviana, che nell'atto per aes et libram, con cui
si attuavano le muta zioni di proprietà quiritaria, dovessero intervenire dei
testimonii tolti dalle classi al modo stesso, che ancora in base alle XII
Tavole era stabilito: « adsiduo adsiduus vindex esto ». Tale sembra pur essere
l'opinione del MUIRHEAD, Histor. introd., pag.59, il quale trova anzi non
improbabile, che i non minus quam quinque testes rappresentassero le cinque
classi. 477 ad essere cambiato in un atto tipico, che poteva essere suscettivo
di molteplici applicazioni. Si comprende quindi, che Gaio ci parli sempre della
mancipatio, come di una imaginaria venditio, senza neppur far cenno di un'epoca,
in cui essa poteva costituire una vendita effettiva e reale (1 ). 372. Per
quello poi che si riferisce all'ordine progressivo, con cui l'atto per aes et
libram sarebbe stato applicato ai principali negozii giuridici deldiritto
quiritario, è opinione generalmente ammessa, che esso siasi prima applicato
alla mancipatio, poscia al nexum, e più tardi al testamentum per aes et libram
(2). Mentre non pud esservi alcun dubbio circa l'applicazione più tarda
dell'atto per aes et li bram al testamento, poichè in proposito Gaio ed Ulpiano
attestano, che questa forma di testamento ebbe ad essere introdotta posterior
mente a quella in calatis comitiis (3), ritengo invece, che sianvi dei forti
indizii per credere, che l'applicazione dell'atto per aes et libram al nexum
debba essere considerata come la più antica. Un argomento di ciò l'abbiamo
anzitutto nel fatto, che nell'antico ius quiritium il diritto sembra spiegarsi
prima contro la persona del debitore, che non contro i beni del medesimo, ed è
solo assai tardi e sotto l'influenza del diritto pretorio, che si giunge a rite
nere vincolati i beni, anzichè il corpo e la persona del debitore. Di più il
facere mancipium suppone già un'epoca, in cui anche la plebe era pervenuta alla
proprietà, mentre il facere nexum ci ri porta ad un'epoca più antica, in cui la
plebe, nei suoi rapporti col patriziato, non potendo offrire alcuna garanzia
reale, non poteva ob bligarsi altrimenti, che vincolando la propria persona. A
ciò si ag giunge, che l'atto per aes et libram pud essere stata una realtà
relativamente al nexum, poichè in un'epoca, in cui l'aes rude serviva come
strumento di scambio, era una necessità il pesare la somma, che era data ad
imprestito; mentre invece l'applicazione (1) Egli è evidente che i
giureconsulti considerarono sempre l'atto per aes et libram come una forma
riconosciuta dalla legge (secundum legem publicam ) per compiere i negozii di
carattere quiritario; di qui le loro espressioni di imaginaria venditio, e di
imaginaria mancipatio, e la disinvoltura con cuinon hanno difficoltà di
applicarle a negozii, che più non hanno carattere mercantile, come sarebbe, ad
esempio, il matrimonio per coemptionem. (2) Tale sembra, ad esempio, essere
l'opinione del Voigt, XII Tafeln; del MUIRHEAD, Op. cit., pag. (3 ) GAJO, Comm.,
II, 102; ULP., Fragm., XX, 2. 58 e segg. 478 dell'atto per aes et libram, non
solo per eseguire il pagamento del prezzo, ma anche per operare il
trasferimento della proprietà di una cosa, è già ad evidenza un espediente
giuridico, e merita il nome da tole da Gaio di « imaginaria venditio ». Si
comprende pertanto, come gli antichi giureconsulti comprendano talvolta il
facere mancipium nel concetto più antico del nexum chiamando con questo nome «
omne quod geritur per aes et libram », mentre non consta che essi facciano mai
rientrare il nexum nel concetto del facere mancipium (1). Infine si può anche
aggiungere, che nei passi antichi parlasi di un ius nexi mancipiique, e che le
stesse XII Tavole fanno precedere il nexum nel famoso testo: « cum nexum faciet
mancipiumque, uti lingua nuncupassit, ita ius esto »: argomento questo,
chemalgrado la sua tenuità apparente non deve trascurarsi del tutto, quando si
consideri l'esattezza e la precisione, anche cronologica, che i ro mani,
sopratutto nei tempi più antichi, recavano nel proprio lin guaggio legislativo,
facendo di solito precedere il concetto, che prima erasi formato a quello, la
cui formazione era posteriore. Che se po steriormente la mancipatio fini per
prendere un posto più impor tante, ciò proviene da una causa storica, dal fatto
cioè, che la parte del diritto primitivo relativa al nexum fu la prima ad
essere abolita, il che accadde per mezzo della lex Paetelia, nel 428 dalla
fondazione di Roma; donde la conseguenza, che il nexum cadde pressochè in
dimenticanza, mentre la mancipatio apparve come l'atto quiritario per
eccellenza presso i classici giureconsulti. Noi possiamo invece affermare, che
presso i giureconsulti più antichi dovette essere as solutamente il contrario;
perchè noi sappiamo che Manilio nel con cetto del nexum comprendeva ancora il
mancipium, e che Elio Gallo vi comprendera perfino la testamenti factio;
cosicchè tutto ciò, che compievasi per aes et libram, necti dicebatur, e quindi
nel nexum veniva ad essere compreso « omne quod geritur per aes et libram ». La
distinzione invece fra il nexum ed il mancipium compare in Quinto Muzio
Scevola, il quale dice bensi che il nexum è ancor sempre « quod per aes et
libram fit », ma non più nel l'intento di dare la cosa a mancipio, ma bensì in
quello di obbli garla soltanto; la quale opinione, secondo Varrone ebbe ad
essere seguita, e fu allora che si chiamò nexum, « quod obligatur per libram,
neque suum fit». Si pud quindi conchiudere, che il vocabolo di nexum ebbe
dapprimauna significazione più larga, per cui tutto (1) V. in proposito i passi
di antichi giureconsulti ed autori citati a p. 411, nota 1. -- 479 ciò che
compievasi « per aes et libram, necti dicebatur », mentre più tardi fini per
significare l'obbligazione assunta per aes et libram; trasformazioni di
significato, che occorrono frequenti nel diritto ro mano, come lo dimostrano i
vocaboli di imperium, di manus e di mancipium, i quali tutti, mentre hanno una
significazione più larga, finiscono per assumere un significato specifico più
circoscritto. A queste considerazioni, fondate sui testi, se ne aggiunge
un'altra, per me più importante di tutte, ed è che nella formazione del diritto
quiritario, che poggia tutto sul concetto fondamentale del quirite, il diritto,
quale vinculum societatis humanae, dovette presentarsi dap prima come un nexum,
ossia, come un vincolo, che intercede fra due quiriti. Ciò è dimostrato dal
fatto, che la procedura primitiva è azione di una persona contro di un'altra, e
che la esecuzione pri mitiva va direttamente contro la persona del debitore, e
si mani festa quale manus iniectio contro il medesimo (1 ). Quest'indagine
intanto è per noi importante anche nel senso, che ci induce a discorrere prima
del nexum, poscia della mancipatio, e da ultimo del testamentum per aes et
libram. $ 2. Il nexum e la storia primitiva della obbligazione quiritaria. 373.
L'origine diquell'obbligazione quiritaria di strettissimo diritto, che
contraevasi mediante il nexum, deve essere cercata in quel (1) Non parmi
pertanto, che possa essere accettata la teoria ingegnosa, ma non fondata sui
fatti, del SumnER-MAINE, L'ancien droit, p. 305 e seg., secondo la quale il
nexum avrebbe prima significato il trasferimento della proprietà, e sarebbe
poscia venuto a significare l'obbligazione del venditore, che non avesse pagato
il prezzo. Cid è assolutamente contrario al concetto romano, secondo cui la
consegna della cosa e il pagamento del prezzo seguivano contemporaneamente
nella mancipatio. Si può anzi dire che il processo seguito dal diritto romano
fu compiutamente inverso. Il primo rapporto, che potè esservi fra il patriziato
e la plebe, fu quello del nexum, ossia quella rigida obbligazione, per cui il
mancato pagamento dava luogo alla manus iniectio contro la persona; mentre solo
più tardi l'atto per aes et libram potè servire per il trasferimento della
proprietà. Queste considerazioni mi impedi scono eziandio di aderire allo
svolgimento storico, che sarebbe proposto dal CoglioLO nelle note al
PadELLETTI, Storia del dir. rom., pag. 250, dove, premesso che il con cetto del
diritto reale dovette precedere quello del diritto personale, farebbe anche
precedere la formazione della mancipatio a quella del nexum. Cfr. Puglia,
Studii di storia del dir. priv., pag. 73 e segg. 480 l'epoca, in cui la plebe,
priva ancora di una vera posizione di diritto di fronte al patriziato, non
poteva trovar credito presso ilmedesimo che vincolando la propria persona. In
virtù del nexum il debitore plebeo, che non pagava a scadenza, poteva essere
sottoposto alla manus iniectio, ed essere tradotto nel carcere privato del
creditore patrizio (1). Coll'ammessione dei plebei alla comunanza quiritaria,
il nexum, questa obbligazione rozza è primitiva, che era surta nei rapporti fra
la classe superiore e la classe inferiore, venne ancor essa a con vertirsi
nella forma tipica della obbligazione quiritaria, ma dovette perciò
sottomettersi a tutte le solennità dell'atto quiritario. Essa quindi dovette
essere contratta colle formalità dell'atto per aes et libram, colla assistenza
cioè di non meno di cinque testes cives romani, e coll'intervento del libripens
e dell'antestator (2). La formola precisa del nexum non ci è pervenuta, ma ci
giunse invece, conservataci da Gaio, quella della nexi liberatio, la quale,
essendone naturalmente il contrapposto, pud servirci per determinare, se non la
formola precisa, almeno gli elementi essenziali, che dove vano concorrere nella
nezi datio, per usare una espressione, che occorre nel giureconsulto Elio Gallo
(3 ). Da questa formola si può in durre che a costituire il nexum dovettero
concorrere due parti, cioè: (1) Senza pretendere qui di citare la ricchissima
letteratura sul nexum, ricorderò soltanto l'Huschke, Ueber das nexum, Leipzig,
1846; GIRAUD, Des nexi, ou de la condition des débiteurs chez les Romains,
Paris 1847; Voigt, XII Tafeln, I, $$ 63-65; MUIRHEAD, Histor. Introd., 152 a
163. Le opinioni degli autori tuttavia sugli effetti del nexum primitivo sono
ancora molto discordi. Secondo la dottrina più seguita, il nexum dava origine
ad un'obbligazione di strettissimo diritto, la quale, non soddisfatta,
autorizzava senz'altro alla manus iniectio. Di recente invece il Voigt
sosterrebbe, che l'obbligazione assunta col nexum non avrebbe alcun effetto
speciale; la quale opinione sembra pur seguita dal Cogliolo, nelle note al
PADELLETTI, Storia del diritto romano, pag. 329. Per mio conto seguo la prima
opinione in base sopratutto a quell'origine del nexum, che ho cercato di
spiegare più sopra ai nu meri 166-67, pag. 206 a 208, e sulla considerazione,
che non si comprenderebbero le grandi lotte sostenute dalla plebe per ottenere
l'abolizione di questo ingens vin culum fidei; quando il medesimo avesse prodotto
i medesimi effetti dell'obbligazione assunta col mezzo della stipulatio. (2 )
Questa necessità dell'atto per aes et libram, per contrarre il nexum, probabil
mente fu quel provvedimento favorevole ai debitori, che da Dionisio è
attribuito a Servio Tullio. Cfr. MUIRHEAD, op. cit., pag. 67. (3 ) La formola
della nexi liberatio conservataci da Gajo, Comm., III, 174, sa rebbe la
seguente: « Quod ego tibi tot milibus condemnatus sum, me eo nomine a te «
solvo liberoque hoc aere aeneaque libra. Hanc tibi libram primam postremamque
481 1° l'atto per aes et libram, non minus quam quinque testes, cives romani,
il libripens e forse eziandio l'antestator; 2° e la nuncu patio, che non si sa
bene se dovesse essere pronunziata da un solo, ovvero da entrambi i contraenti.
Essa però probabilmente dovette comporsi di due parti, l'una pronunziata dal
nexum accipiens e l'altra dal nexum dans, e consistette in una specie di
damnatio. Il primo conchiudeva damnas esto dare, e l'altro rispondeva damnas
sum, il che implicava una specie di condanna, che il debitore pronunziava
contro se stesso, al pagamento della somma (1 ). Di qui la conseguenza, che se
il medesimo non pagava si poteva proce dere contro di lui, come se il medesimo
fosse damnatus al paga mento, e perciò poteva essere soggetto alla manus
iniectio, senza che fosse richiesta una speciale condanna del magistrato. I
dubbii più gravi, che si riferiscono al nexum, sono quelli re lativi alla
natura dell'obbligazione contratta col nexum, ed agli effetti, che derivavano
da essa in base al diritto primitivo, le cui vestigia appariscono ancora nella
legislazione decemvirale. 374. Per quello che riguarda la natura della
obbligazione con tratta col nexum, alcuni antichi scrittori, non giuristi,
descrivendo la trista condizione dei debitori, tradotti nel carcere privato del
loro & expendo secundum legem publicam ». Essa è per noi molto preziosa: 1°
perchè ci dice anzitutto, che il nexum per aes et libram importava una damnatio
per parte del debitore, il che fa credere che rendesse contro di lui
applicabile senz'altro la manus iniectio, che Gaio ci dice appunto essere
ammessa contro i damnati, e contro i iudicati; 2° perchè essa è un argomento
per ritenere, che le obbligazioni contratte per aes etlibram dovevano essere
risolte con un atto della medesima natura; 3. perchè infine ci attesta, che
l'atto per aes et libram era una forma di liberatio secundum legem publicam, e
come tale non si applicava soltanto nei casi di obbligazioni con tratte col
nexum, ma anche quando trattavasi del pagamento di una somma ex causa iudicati,
o del pagamento di un legato per damnationem. Ciò conferma sempre più la
congettura posta innanzi, che l'atto per aes et libram era in certo modo la
forma quiritaria del negozio giuridico, donde le sue molteplici applicazioni,
allorchè si tratta di negozii ex iure quiritium. (1) La nuncupatio del nexum
secondo il Voigt, XII Tafeln, pag. 483, si com porrebbe bensì di due parti; ma
egli, ricostruendone la formola, respingerebbe l'e spressione damnas esto e
damnas sum, in conformità appunto della sua teoria, se condo cui il nexum non
avrebbe dato origine ad un'obbligazione di carattere spe ciale. Parmi che
quest'ultima parte della sua ricostruzione non possa accettarsi; poichè, così
essendo, la formola della nesi datio non corrisponderebbe a quella della nexi
liberatio, conservataci da Gaio, la quale è certo ciò, che noi abbiamo di più
testuale in proposito. G. Carle, Le origini del diritto di Roma. 31 482
creditore, ebbero a dire, che essi, dopo essere stati spogliati dei beni,
avevano poi dovuto rinunziare alla propria libertà (1). Ciò fece ri tenere
talvolta, che il nexum attribuisse il diritto di procedere non solo contro la
persona, ma anche contro i beni del debitore. Questo concetto sembra ripugnare
a quel carattere del primitivo ius qui ritium, secondo cui il medesimo,
allorchè giungeva a separare due istituti, quali sarebbero quelli del nexum e
del mancipium, lasciava poi che ciascuno procedesse per la propria via,
informato ad una propria logica, senza che l'uno più non si confondesse
coll'altro. Ora pur riconoscendo che il vocabolo di nexum, nella sua
significazione primitiva, designasse in genere il vincolo giuridico, che
intercedeva fra un quirite ed un altro, e che potesse anche estendersi ai beni
del debitore, questo è certo che non dovette più essere cosi, allorchè si operò
la distinzione fra il nexum ed il mancipium, e i due con cetti cominciarono ad
avere ciascuno un proprio svolgimento. Ora noi sappiamo, che questa distinzione
del nexum dal mancipium già erasi operata anteriormente all'epoca decemvirale,
e che da quel momento il quirite come tale ebbe due mezzi per provvedere alle
proprie necessità; quello cioè di alienare il proprio mancipium, o quello di
vincolarsi col nexum. Con quello egli poteva trasferire i beni e con questo
vincolare la sua persona; ma gli effetti dell'uno non potevano più confondersi
coll'altro. Fu in seguito a questa di stinzione, che anche più tardi la
giurisprudenza romana ebbe a ri tenere, che le obbligazioni ed i contratti, che
derivarono dal nexum, non possono mai riuscire al trasferimento della proprietà,
il quale con tinuò sempre ad operarsi per mezzo della usucapione e della tradi
zione, che erano sottentrate all'anticamancipatio. Parmi pertanto in questa
parte di dovere seguire l'opinione, adottata, fra gli altri, anche dall'Hölder,
secondo cui il nexum costituisce in certo modo il con trapposto della
mancipatio nel senso, che quello è la sottomissione della persona del debitore
alla potestà del creditore per il caso di non seguito pagamento, mentre la
mancipatio costituisce invece (1) Così, ad esempio Livio, II, 23, attribuisce
queste parole a quel nexus, che avrebbe provocata la prima rivolta della plebe
per causa della legge sui debiti: e se « aes alienum fecisse; id cumulatum
usuris primo se agro paterno avitoque exuisse, a deinde fortunis aliis;
postremo, velut tabes, pervenisse ad corpus ». È tuttavia evidente, che quinon
si dice punto, che il creditore, in base al nexum, potesse pro cedere sai beni
del debitore, ma solo che quest'ultimo aveva dovuto prima spogliarsi del suo
patrimonio avito, e poi anche vincolare la sua persona al proprio creditore.
483 il trasferimento di una cosa in potestà altrui. Questa è pure l'opi nione,
che fu seguita recentemente dall'Esmein e dal Cuq, i quali ritengono, che la
primitiva obbligazione quiritaria, la cui forma tipica fu il nexum, costituisse
dapprima un legame del tutto personale e fosse perfino intrasmessibile da una
persona ad un'altra (1). Ho insistito sopra questo carattere esclusivamente
personale del nexum primitivo; perchè il medesimo, se nori a giustificare, può
condurci in qualche modo a spiegare le conseguenze estreme, a cui nel diritto
primitivo di Roma potè giungere il diritto del creditore contro il proprio
debitore. Parmi tuttavia, che sarà più opportuno discorrere di tali conseguenze,
allorchè si tratterà della manus iniectio, ossia della procedura di esecuzione
contro il debitore; poichè l'inumanità di questa primitiva procedura non
spiegasi soltanto contro i nexi, ma anche contro i iudicati ed i damnati (2 ).
375. È certo ad ogni modo, che il nexum, fra le istituzioni qui ritarie, era
quella, che ripugnava maggiormente a quell'uguaglianza, che avrebbe dovuto
esistere fra i membri di una stessa comunanza. Esso portava ancora le traccie
della soggezione, pressochè servile, a cui un tempo era ridotta la plebe;
poichè anche nel periodo sto rico sono sempre i plebei, che appariscono
sottoposti al rigore del nexum, mentre il patrizio, anche oberato di debiti,
poteva trovar sussidio presso la propria gente. Ne derivò che, durante le lotte
fra i due ordini, il nexum si cambið talora in un'arma del patri ziato per
assicurare la sua superiorità sopra la plebe, e fu in tal modo che una
istituzione di diritto privato si cambiò in un fomite di dissensioni civili. La
questione della condizione dei debitori sembra già rimontare all'epoca di
Sergio Tullio, il quale, se non pagd del proprio i creditori, come vorrebbe la
tradizione, certo impose la solennità dell'atto per aes et libram per potersi
obligare col nexum. Sotto la Repubblica poi, è a causa della legge sui debiti,
che i plebei si rifiutano prima alla leva, poi abbandonano la città e si
ritirano (1) HÖLDER, Istituz., trad. Caporali, pag. 225 e segg. Cfr. eziandio
l' Esmein, L'intrasmissibilité première des créances et des dettes, nella « Nouvelle
Revue histo rique », 1887, pag. 48, nel quale scritto egli cerca di corroborare
la stessa tesi già enunciata dal CuQ, Recherches historiques sur le testament
per aes et libram pubblicato nella stessa « Nouvelle Revue », 1886, pag. 536.
(2) La questione qui accennata del trattamento contro i debitori sarà trattata
nel capitolo VI, § 3º, parlando della procedura esecutiva, mediante la manus
iniectio. 484 sul monte Sacro, da cui non ritornano, che dopo aver ottenuto la
istituzione del tribunato della plebe. Anche la stessa legislazione decemvirale
porta le traccie di questa contesa; come lo dimostrano le disposizioni minute,
a cui essa discende nella parte, che si rife risce al trattamento del debitore,
ridotto in potestà del creditore. Malgrado di ciò, le dissensioni continuano
fino alla legge Petelia del 428 di Roma, la quale non abolisce il nexum, e
neppure dà diritto al creditore di procedere contro i beni del debitore,
anzichè contro la sua persona, come vorrebbe Livio, ma toglie al creditore il
diritto di poter procedere immediatamente alla manus iniectio contro il
debitore, senza che neppure occorresse l'intervento del magistrato (). Continuò
quindi ancora a sussistere l'atto per aes et libram, qual mezzo di
sottomettersi al nexum, come lo dimostra la sopravvivenza delle nesi liberatio,
che è ancora ricordata da Gaio; ma intanto il nexum, sprovvisto di quegli
effetti immediati contro la persona, che costituivano l'odiosità e la forza di
questo ingens vinculum fidei, non ebbe più ragione di sussistere, e venne ad
essere sosti tuito da altri modi di obbligarsi, che forse preesistevano nel costume,
ma non erano ancora stati accolti nella cerchia circoscritta del primitivo ius
quiritium. 376. Accade qui, in tema di obbligazioni, una trasformazione analoga
a quella, che abbiamo veduto essersi avverata in tema di proprietà, quanto al
concetto del mancipium. Al modo stesso che (1) Le espressioni di Livio, VIII,
28, sono le seguenti: « iussique consules ferre ad « populum, ne quis, nisi qui
noxam meruisset, donec poenam lueret, in compedibus < aut in nervo teneretur;
poecuniae creditae bona debitoris, non corpus obnoxium « esset. Ita nexi
soluti, cautumque in posterum, ne necterentur ». Di qui alcuni autori avrebbero
argomentato, che da quel momento fosse stata abolita la procedura contro la
persona dei debitori, e introdotta invece quella contro i beni. Cid sarebbe
smentito espressamente dalla storia giuridica di Roma, dove la vera procedura
fu sempre contro la persona, mentre quella contro i beni fu solo introdotta dal
pretore Rutilio nel 647 di Roma, e la stessa cessio bonorum, introdotta dalla
legge Giulia, fu ancora considerata come un beneficio fatto al debitore. Le
parole quindi di Livio debbono essere intese nel senso, che d'allora in poi il
nexum non bastò più per sè ad autorizzare il creditore a tradurre il debitore
nel suo carcere privato, e che in tal modo l'obbligazione, contratta con questo
mezzo, non ebbe più lo speciale effetto di autorizzare senz'altro la manus
iniectio; ma produsse solo gli effetti, che sareb bero derivati da un
'obbligazione assunta mediante la semplice stipulatio. Questa fu probabilmente
la causa, per cui il nexum andò gradatamente in disuso, e sottentra rono al
medesimo la mutui datio e la stipulatio, come sarà dimostrato più sotto. 485 al
mancipium, quale unica forma della primitiva proprietà quiri taria, sottentrò
il concetto più largo del dominium ex iure qui ritium; così al nexum, forma
primitiva dell'obbligazione quiritaria, sottentrò il concetto più esteso
dell'obligatio propria civium roma norum, al vincolo materiale, che stringeva
il debitore al creditore sottentrò il vincolo giuridico (vinculum iuris); ma
intanto i voca boli di obligatio, di solutio, di liberatio e simili rimasero
ancor sempre a ricordare la rozzezza dell'antico concetto, che scorgeva nell'
obbligazione un vincolo pressochè materiale, e nel pagamento ravvisava lo
scioglimento di questo vincolo (solutio ). Così pure al modo stesso, che col
sostituirsi al mancipium un concetto più largo del dominium ex iure quiritium,
si vennero accogliendo nuovi modi di acquistare e trasmettere questo dominio;
cosi, allorchè al concetto del nexum sottentrò quello dell'obligatio, si
vennero accogliendo nel ius proprium civium romanorum nuovi modi di obbligarsi.
Il nexum, mentre costituiva ed esprimeva efficacemente un vincolo materiale e
giuridico ad un tempo, aveva eziandio questo carattere speciale, che esso
teneva in certo modo del reale e del verbale, in quanto che componevasidi
dueparti, cioè: dell'atto per aes et libram, mediante cui avveravasi il
trapasso dal mio al tuo e si operava la consegna immediata della cosa (tuum de
meo fit ): e della nuncupatio, mediante cui fra creditore e debitore si
conveniva la condanna ed il pagamento. Queste due parti, collo scomporsi del
nexum vennero in certo modo ad acquistare libertà di movimento, e si operò la
distinzione fra l'obligatio quae re contrahitur, e quella che con trahitur
verbis, a cui venne più tardi ad aggiungersi eziandio l'obligatio quae
contrahitur litteris, ossia l'expensilatio. Per tal modo alla sintesi potente
del nexum, che era il modo primitivo di obbligarsi ex iure quiritium,
sottentrarono varii modi di obbli garsi, che costituirono un ius proprium
civium romanorum, quali sono la mutui datio, la sponsio o stipulatio, e la
acceptilatio: ciascuno dei quali viene ad essere il germe di quei varii
contratti formali, che si vengono poi svolgendo nel diritto civile romano,
sotto il nome di contratti reali, verbali e letterali. 377. È evidente
anzitutto l'analogia col nexum della mutui datio. Questa infatti continua a
produrre un'obligatio stricti iuris; si ap plica dapprima alla credita pecunia,
e poi si estende a tutte le cose quae numero, pondere ac mensura constant: e la
sua effi 486 cacia obbligatoria consiste nella numeratio pecuniae, oppure con
segna della cosa (datio rei ). Non può poi esservi dubbio, che il mutuo fu il
modello, sopra cui si foggiarono poi gli altri contratti reali del comodato,
del deposito, del pegno (1). Tuttavia il modo di obbligarsi, che prende un più
largo sviluppo collo scomparire del nexum, è sopratutto la sponsio o stipulatio.
Questa, sotto un certo aspetto, corrisponde a quella nuncupatio, che già
preesisteva nel nexum, salvo che essa, liberata di quella forma rigida della
damnatio, che era propria del nexum, venne a trasfor marsi in una semplice
sponsio o stipulatio, in cui l'obbligazione viene ad essere assunta per mezzo
di una interrogazione e di una risposta, congrue e solenni, le quali, per la
propria elasticità e pieghevolezza, possono essere veste acconcia per esprimere
la varietà infinita delle obbligazioni, a cui può sottoporsi il cittadino
romano. Qualunque possa essere stata l'origine della stipulatio, è sopratutto
nello svol gimento di essa, che si palesa il genio giuridico dei giureconsulti
romani, i quali non credettero indegno del loro ufficio l'attendere a
concretare le formole, con cui doveva essere concepita la stipula zione nei
varii negozii giuridici (2 ). Anche la stipulatio divenne (1) Per ciò che si
riferisce alla mutui datio, è nota la censura, che di regola suol farsi alla
etimologia di mutuum data dai giureconsulti, secondo cui questo vocabolo
deriverebbe da « quod de meo tuum fit ». Per conto mio, non come etimologo, ma
come giurista, ritengo invece assai probabile questa etimologia, tenuto conto
di ciò, che nelle formole primitive occorrono ad ogni istante le parole di meum
e di tuum, e che l'essenza del mutuum consiste veramente nel far sì, che un
oggetto ex meo tuum fit. Queste etimologie, che direi ragionate, diventano
tanto più probabili, quando si ri tenga, che il diritto romano fin dai primi
tempi fu il frutto di una vera elaborazione, la quale può benissimo avere
adattata la parola al concetto, che intendeva di signi ficare. Lo stesso direi
delle etimologie di testamentum da mentis testatio, di manci pium da manucaptum,
e di altre analoghe; sebbene ve ne siano di molte, le quali, per essere
composte post factum, sono evidentemente foggiate per far dire alla parola cid,
che è nella mente del giureconsulto nell'epoca, in cui egli analizza il
significato della parola. Intanto il fatto stesso, che i giureconsulti cercano
sempre di dare alla parola un senso, che corrisponda alla cosa significata,
dimostra, che essi dovevano procedere in tal guisa, allorchè il comparire di
qualche nuovo negozio li costringeva a foggiare qualche nuovo vocabolo. In cid
abbiamo anche una delle ragioni, per cui il linguaggio giuridico di Roma potè
diventare pressochè universale, come le sue leggi. (2 ) Sono molte le opinioni
intorno all'origine della sponsio o stipulatio nel di ritto romano. Alcuni la
ritengono come la parte verbale del nexum, allorchè andò in disuso l'atto per
aes et libram nel contrarre le obbligazioni; altri, argomentando dal vocabolo
sponsio, la ritengono come una specie di promessa giurata, che facevasi davanti
all'antichissima ara di Ercole; altri infine la ritengono di origine greca,
donde sarebbe passata in Sicilia e poi nel Lazio. Tale sarebbe, ad es.,
l'opinione 487 così un modo tipico di obbligarsi; ma il suo carattere non è più
artificioso, come quello dell'atto per aes et libram, nè così rigido come
quello della damnatio, propria del nexum, ma sembra essere desunto dalla natura
stessa delle cose. La parola infatti è riguardata come il vero mezzo di
obbligarsi, e ogni negozio, dopo essere stato lungamente discusso, viene colla
stipulatio ad essere conchiuso, in guisa da escludere qualsiasi dubbiezza sulla
volontà dei contraenti. Tocca pertanto a colui, che stipula un beneficio a suo
favore, di interrogare il promettente: « centum dare spondes? », e tocca a
colui che promette di rispondergli congruamente: « spondeo » per modo che non
possa esservi dubbio circa l'incontrarsi delle due volontà (1 ). Viene poscia
nel costume una dextrarum iunctio, poichè, fra le genti primitive, la destra è
l'emblema della fede, in base a cui si conclude il negozio. Forse in antico
potè eziandio aggiungersi la solennità del giuramento, come lo indicherebbe la
significazione in parte religiosa, del vocabolo di sponsio; ma questa, quando è
accolta nel diritto civile romano, sembra già aver perduto questo carattere
primitivo. Anche qui pertanto vi ha una forma tipica di obbligazione, ma essa
non è più quella del nexum, propria del ius quiritium, e modellata
probabilmente dal ius pontificium, nell'intento di serbare le tradizioni del
passato; bensì è già quella del ius proprium civium romanorum, come lo dimostra
il fatto, che anche quando i romani consentirono la stipulatio ai peregrini,
riservarono sempre per sè la espressione primitiva: « spondes? spon deo », la
quale sembra ancora richiamare quel carattere religioso, che doveva
accompagnare simili stipulazioni nel periodo gentilizio. Questo è certo ad ogni
modo, che la stipulatio ha vantaggi in del Leist, Graeco-ital.
Rechtsgeschichte, pag. 455-470, a cui si associa il MUIRHEAD, op. cit., pag.
228. Per me trovo assai probabile, che anche in Grecia potesse esi stere un
modo di obbligarsi così naturale e semplice, come è quello rappresentato dalla
stipulatio, al quale trovasi pure qualche cosa di correlativo, anche fra i popoli
germanici (SCHUPPER, L'allodio, pag. 47); ma non posso in verità persuadermi,
che i Romani dovessero apprenderlo dalla Grecia, dal momento, che senz'alcun
dubbio già lo conoscevano nei rapporti fra le varie genti. Essa quindi deve
essere ritenuta come una di quelle istituzioni, che vivevano nelle costumanze,
e che solo più tardi riuscirono ad entrare nella cerchia rigida del ius
quiritium, il che probabilmente dovette accadere, quando cominciò ad andare in
disuso il nexum. (1) Questo carattere speciale della stipulatio, per cui essa
costituisce il modo più semplice ed acconcio per conchiudere le trattative di
un negozio, in quanto che l'in terrogante viene ad essere colui che stipula, e
il rispondente colui che promette, fu già acutamente notato dal SUMNER MAINE,
L'ancien droit, pag. 311. 488 contrastati sul nexum. Essa è duttile, pieghevole,
come la parola umana, e può cosi accomodarsi a qualsiasi uso; è un materiale,
che si adatta ad ogni specie di costruzione; è il modo più spiccio e più logico
per conchiudere qualsiasi trattativa; può servire per un'obbligazione
principale ed anche per un'obbligazione accessoria; sebbene unilaterale per
propria natura, si può, raddoppiandola, farla servire per dare origine ad una
convenzione bilaterale. Stante la propria esattezza e precisione, la stipulatio
è sopratutto atta ad esprimere i negozii stricti iuris. Ma essa, coll'aggiunta
di una clau sola semplicissima, che è quella ex fide bona, pud anche adattarsi
ai negozii di buona fede. Si comprende pertanto come, in base alla medesima, i
giureconsulti romani siano riusciti a svolgere in gran parte la teoria dei
contratti, in cui la giurisprudenza romana spiego una duttilità e
pieghevolezza, tanto più mirabili, in quanto che non scompagnansi giammai
dall'esattezza e dalla precisione. 378. Sembra invece essere alquanto più
tardi, che vennero ad essere accolti nella compagine del diritto civile di
Roma, quegli altri modi di obbligarsi, che diedero poi origine ai contratti
letterali. Anche a questo riguardo non può esservi dubbio, che il diritto
civile di Roma non creò di pianta le proprie istituzioni; ma si contento, per
dir cosi, di accogliere sotto la sua tutela e di modellare, in base alla
propria logica giuridica, le istituzioni, che già esistevano nel l'uso e nel
costume. Così dovette accadere senz'alcun dubbio dell'expensilatio, la quale,
ancorchè entrata tardi nel diritto civile di Roma, ci richiama in certo modo la
figura del primitivo capo di famiglia, il quale dir: gendo una vasta azienda e
avendo sotto la sua dipendenza un nu mero grande di persone, deve tenere il
conto quotidiano del dare e dell'avere. Ciò che egli scrive nel proprio libro
doveva certo far fede dirimpetto ai suoi dipendenti. Questo sistema pero, che
era il più ovvio nelle consuetudini patriarcali, presentava invece dei pe
ricoli nel diritto, come quello, che fondavasi esclusivamente sulla buona fede.
Fu questo il motivo, per cui esso penetrò più tardi nel diritto civile di Roma,
il quale cerco poi di ovviare al pericolo inerente al medesimo, aggiungendo al
nomen transcripticium una ricognizione scritta del debito, che doveva restare a
mani del cre ditore (cautio, chirographum ); al qual proposito viene ad essere
probabile, che l'istituzione originariamente italica della expensilatio siasi
imparentata con un'istituzione, che il vocabolo farebbe credere - 439 di
origine probabilmente g: eca, donde la cautio chirographaria, che pervenne fino
a noi (1 ). 379. Queste tre categorie di contratti, che sogliono talvolta es
sere indicati col vocabolo di formali, dovettero certamente essere i primi ad
entrare nella compagine del diritto civile romano. Esso invece, che stentava a
comprendere il consenso senza un fatto esteriore, che servisse a rivelarlo,
sembra che solo più tardi e pro babilmente già sotto l'influenza del ius
honorarium, sia pervenuto ad adottare e ad attribuire efficacia giuridica
all'emptio venditio, e agli altri contratti, che a somiglianza di essa si
perfezionano col solo consenso. Ormai non può esservi dubbio, che anche
l'emptio venditio già esisteva nel primitivo diritto, poichè la legislazione
decemvirale disponeva, che la medesima, per essere perfetta, doveva essere
accompagnata dalla tradizione della cosa e dal pagamento del prezzo. Cosi
stando le cose, è però evidente, che l'emptio venditio come mezzo per
trasferire il dominio, non poteva valere da sola, ma doveva essere accompagnata
dalla mancipatio o dalla traditio. Di qui ne venne, che essa, come contratto
stante per sè, comparve solo più tardi nel diritto civile di Roma, il quale non
ebbe a collocarla nella categoria dei negozii, che valgono a trasferire il
dominio, ma bensì in quella dei negozii, che obbligano a dare, facere,
praestare; il che deve pur dirsi di tutti gli altri contratti consensuali, cioè
della locatio conductio, del mandatum e della societas, che furono fog giati
sul modello della compra e vendita (2 ). 380. Intanto si comprende, che la
giurisprudenza romana, la quale, nel suo primo consolidarsi, aveva prese le
mosse da una unica forma di obbligazione quiritaria, che era quella assunta col
nexum, allorchè pervenne a così grande ricchezza di sviluppo, abbia cominciato
a sentire il bisogno di richiamare a certe classi i genera obligationum, quae
ex contractu nascuntur; ma intanto essa si trovò già di fronte ad una
suppellettile così copiosa, che per potervi riuscire ac canto ai contratti fu
costretta a creare la figura dei quasi- con (1) Cfr. per ciò che si riferisce
all'expensilatio ed all'abitudine del capo di fami glia romano di tenere il
Codex accepti et expensi, vedi il PADELLETTI, Storia del diritto romano, cap.
XXI, pag. 249 e segg. Quanto all'acceptilatio vedi SCHUPFER, nella «
Enciclopedia giuridica italiana », vol. I, pag. 175 a 180, vº acceptilatio. (2)
Quanto alle origini di uno di questi contratti consensuali, cioè della
societas, vedi l'articolo del Ferrini nell'a Archivio giuridico » diretto dal
Serafini, anno 1887. 490 tratti; accanto ai contratti nominati dovette porre
quelli non no minati; accanto ai veri e proprii contratti, i patti, che non pro
ducono azione, ma una semplice eccezione; e da ultimo accanto ai contratti, che
avevano avuto origine nel diritto civile, quelli che avevano avuto origine nel
diritto delle genti. Anche qui pertanto è facile lo scorgere come, prima nel
ius quiritium e poscia nel ius civile, presentisi costantemente una parte già
formata e consoli data, e un'altra, che si viene foggiando e consolidando sựl
modello somministrato dalle formazioni anteriori, senza che mai si abbandoni il
concetto fondamentale della primitiva obbligazione, da cui il ius quiritium
aveva preso le mosse. Ciò tanto è vero, che, anche nel conchiudersi dello
svolgimento storico del diritto delle obbligazioni, si riscontra ancora quel
con cetto, a cui si informava l'istituzione primitiva del nexum, con cetto, che
viene ad essere enunziato da Paolo con dire « obligationum « substantia non in
eo consistit, ut aliquod corpus, nostrum, aut « servitutem, nostram faciat, sed
ut alium nobis obstringat ad « dandum aliquid, vel faciendum, vel praestandum »
(1). Si viene cosi a mantenere una separazione fra la teoria delle obbligazioni
e quella del trasferimento della proprietà, non meno radicale e pro fonda, di
quella, che negli inizii del ius quiritium esisteva fra il concetto del facere
nexum e quello del facere mancipium. È questo il motivo, per cui la genesi dei
modi, coi quali nel diritto ro mano si acquistano e si trasferiscono la
proprietà e i diritti inchiusi nella medesima, deve essere cercata in un altro
istituto del diritto primitivo di Roma, che è quello della mancipatio. $ 3. –
La mancipatio e la storia primitiva dei modidi acquistare e di trasferire
ildominio quiritario. 381. Mentre il facere nexum costitui senz'alcun dubbio la
forma primitiva dell'obbligazione quiritaria, il facere mancipium invece, che
prese più tardi il nome di mancipatio, deve considerarsi come la forma
primordiale, che ebbe ad assumere l'acquisto ed il trasferi mento della
proprietà ex iure quiritium (2). Tanto la nexi datio, (1) Paolo, Leg. 3, Dig.
(44, 7). (2) Anche sulla mancipatio abbiamo una ricchissima letteratura. Tra i
recenti mi limiterò a ricordare il Leist, Mancipatio und Eigenthums Tradition,
Iena, 1865; il MuirHead, Hist. Introd., sect. 30, pag. 131 a 149; il Voigt, XIl
Tafeln, II, SS 84 491 quanto la mancipatio, debbono poi essere considerate come
due ap plicazioni dell'atto quiritario per eccellenza, che era l'atto per aes
et libram, come lo dimostra il fatto, che i più antichi giureconsulti
comprendono l'una e l'altra nella categoria di quegli atti, che si compiono per
aes et libram (1). Esse vengono soltanto a differire fra di loro nella
nuncupatio, ossia in quelle parole solenni, che dovevano accompagnare l'atto
per aes et libram, e che potevano attribuire al medesimo una significazione
diversa. Mentre la nun cupatio nel nexum doveva consistere in una specie di
condanna convenzionale del debitore al pagamento della somma da lui tolta in
imprestito; la nuncupatio invece nella mancipatio, quale ebbe ad esserci
conservata da Gaio, consiste nella affermazione solenne del mancipio accipiens,
che la cosa gli appartiene ex iure qui ritium, per averla egli acquistata con
tutte le solennità richieste dal diritto quiritario (hunc ego hominem ex iure
quiritium meum esse aio, isque mihi emptus est hoc aere aeneaque libra ). Gaio
poi non ci dice, se a questa affermazione solenne del mancipio ac cipiens
corrispondesse una congrua risposta del mancipio dans; ma ad ogni modo egli è
certo, che questi, essendo presente all'atto, e ricevendo quell'aes rude, con
cui si percuoteva la bilancia, a titolo di prezzo, riconosceva con cið la
verità dell'affermazione dell'acqui rente (2). È poi anche degno di nota nella
mancipatio, che sebbene a 88; il Longo, La mancipatio, Firenze, 1887. Sembra
essere opinione comune a questi autori, che nell'antico linguaggio in luogo di
mancipatio si dicesse mancipium; donde la conseguenza, che la espressione
facere mancipium sarebbe pressochè un sinonimo di facere mancipationem. Noi
abbiamo veduto invece, che il vocabolo man cipium ebbe, fra le altre
significazioni, anche quella di indicare il primitivo patri. monio del quirite;
quello cioè, che doveva da lui essere consegnato nel censo. Quindi per noi le
antiche espressioni di facere mancipium, mancipio dare, mancipio acci pere
dovettero significare il ricevere una cosa nel proprio mancipium, o il
trasferirla nel mancipium altrui. Quanto ai vocaboli di mancipare e di
mancipatio, essi si for marono, allorchè l'uso frequente di queste espressioni
costrinse a foggiare una parola, che esprimesse più brevemente il concetto. Di
qui la conseguenza, che il vocabolo di mancipatio non deriva direttamente da
manu capere, ma piuttosto da mancipium facere, mancipio dare e simili. Cfr.
BONFANTE, Res mancipi e nec mancipi, Roma, 1888, pag. 90 e 91. (1) « Nexum
Manilius scribit omne quod geritur per aes et libram, in quo sine mancipia ».
VARRO, De ling. lat., VII, 105. Vedi gli altri passi citati nel § 1° di questo
capitolo, nº 369, pag. 471, nota 1. (2 ) Gaio descrive la mancipatio e le
formalità, da cui era accompagnata, nei Comm., I, SS 119 a 123. 492 la medesima
in effetto servisse per il trasferimento della proprietà quiritaria, aveva perd
eziandio tutti i caratteri di un acquisto ori ginario, come lo dimostra il
fatto, che era l'acquirente, il quale doveva per il primo affermare la sua
proprietà sulla cosa ed affer rare materialmente la cosa stessa; donde anche la
conseguenza, che la mancipatio richiedeva la presenza delle cose mobili, e per
gli immobili era stata la sola necessità, che aveva condotto all'uso, accen
nato da Gaio, secondo cui « immobilia in absentia solent manci. pari » (1).
382. La circostanza intanto, che la mancipatio ebbe dapprima ad essere indicata
coll'espressione di facere mancipium, costituisce un forte indizio, che la
mancipatio sia comparsa nel diritto quiri tario, in quell'epoca stessa, in cui
si formd il concetto del manci pium, e che essa sia stata introdotta quale
mezzo peculiare per la formazione e per il trasferimento del mancipium, in
quanto il me desimo costituiva il primo nucleo della proprietà quiritaria,
quella parte cioè del patrimonio, che doveva essere consegnata e valutata nel
censo. Fu l'importanza economica e politica, dal censo attribuita al mancipium,
che rese necessario un atto solenne per la trasmis sione delle res mancipii
contenute nel medesimo. Quindi l'origine della mancipatio deve rimontare
probabilmente alla costituzione serviana, e l'introduzione di essa avere una
stretta attinenza col concetto del mancipium; il che è comprovato dal fatto,
che anche i classici giureconsulti, memori dell'origine di essa, continuarono
sempre a considerare la mancipatio, come un modo di alienazione del tutto
proprio delle res mancipii, e sostennero perfino, che queste fossero cosi
chiamate, perchè erano suscettive della mancipatio (2). (1) Gaio, Comm., I,
119. Sono da vedersi, quanto alla necessità di adprehendere manu la cosa
acquistata, se mobile, i passi citati dal Voigt, op. cit., II, pag. 133, nota
10. Intanto nella necessità di questa materiale apprensione della cosa parmidi
scorgere un'altra prova, che il concetto del primitivo mancipium implicava in
certo modo la detenzione materiale e la proprietà delle cose, che ne formavano
oggetto, al modo stesso che il nexum indicava ad un tempo il vincolo fisico e
il vincolo giuri dico, a cui era sottoposto il debitore. Ciò a parer mio rende
probabile l'etimologia di mancipium da manucaptum, come lo provano i passi
citati dallo stesso Voigt, op. e loc. cit., pag. 134, nota 12. (2 ) Cfr.,
quanto alle origini della mancipatio, il MUIRHEAD, op. cit., pag. Sono poi
Gaio, I, 120 e Ulpiano, Fragm., XIX, 3, i quali attestano che la manci patio
era esclusivamente propria delle res mancipii. « Mancipatio, scrive
quest'ultimo, propria species alienationis est rerum mancipü ». Ciò però non
impedì, che, trattan 57 e segg. 493 - Siccome però fin da quest'epoca, accanto
alle cose, che costituivano il nucleo del mancipium, vi erano quelle, che non
erano comprese nel medesimo, e a cui perciò non potevasi applicare il facere
man cipium, così ne venne che accanto alla mancipatio dovette già essere in
vigore la semplice traditio, la quale, accompagnata dal pagamento del prezzo,
poté servire per il trasferimento delle cose, che non erano comprese nel
mancipium. Mentre quindi la man cipatio veniva ad essere una costruzione
giuridica, la cui forma zione fu determinata dal formarsi del mancipium, la
traditio in vece era il mezzo naturale ed ovvio per il trasferimento di quelle
cose, che erano nec mancipii, e che perciò in questo primo periodo non
formavano oggetto di vera proprietà ex iure quiritium (1). 383. Questo stato di
cose venne poi a subire una modificazione profonda, sotto l'influenza della
legislazione decemvirale. Infatti è colla medesima, che al concetto del
mancipium, il quale restringeva di troppo il novero delle cose, che potevano
essere oggetto di pro prietà quiritaria, cominciò già a sovrapporsi un concetto
più esteso del dominium ex iure quiritium. Da questo momento infatti le res
mancipii continuano ancor sempre a costituire il nucleo più importante delle
cose, che possono essere oggetto di proprietà qui ritaria, ma questa già può
estendersi ad altre cose, che non erano comprese nel primitivo mancipium. Di
qui ne derivo, che mentre le XII Tavole serbarono la mancipatio, quale mezzo
esclusivamente proprio per la trasmissione delle res mancipii, esse perd
introdus sero o confermarono due altri mezzi, per l'acquisto e la trasmis sione
del dominium ex iure quiritium, di cui uno è l'in iure cessio, la quale,
essendo compiuta davanti almagistrato, potè anche dosi di cose, le quali si
ritenevano di grande prezzo e perciò si trasmettevano in fami glia, quali erano
ad esempio le pietre preziose, si potesse nella consuetudine appli carvi anche
la mancipatio. V. quanto si è detto a pag. 441, nota 1. (1) Ciò è dimostrato da
ULP., Fragm., XIX, 3, e 7; il quale, dopo aver premesso che la mancipatio era
propria delle res mancipii, soggiunge poi: « traditio aeque propria est
alienatio rerum nec mancipii »; nei quali passi è evidente, che la man cipatio
e la traditio si contrappongono fra di loro, come il mancipium ed il nec mancipium.
Quello cade sotto il diritto civile, e perciò deve essere alienato colle forme
del diritto civile, il che pure si accenna da Festo, tº censui, allorchè
scrive: « censui censendo agri proprie appellantur, qui et emi et venire iure
civili pos sunt » (Bruns, Fontes, pag. 334). Che il contrapposto fra mancipatio
e traditio sia stato poi la prima origine della distinzione fra i modi civili e
naturali di acqui stare e di trasmettere il dominio appare ad evidenza da Gaio,
Comm., II, 65. 494 essere estesa alle res mancipii, e l'altro è l'usus
auctoritas, più tardi denominata usucapio, mediante cui l'uso ed il possesso di
una cosa, durato per un certo tempo, potė attribuire la proprietà quiritaria
della medesima. Colla legislazione decemvirale pertanto vengono ad essere tre i
principali mezzi, con cui può essere acqui stata e trasmessa la proprietà
quiritaria, e che costituiscono perciò un diritto esclusivamente proprio dei
cittadini romani. 384. Di questi mezzi il più importante è sempre la mancipatio,
la quale è il vero modo ex iure quiritium per l'acquisto ed il tras ferimento
del dominio, ma la medesima, essendo nata col mancipium, continua sempre ad
essere un mezzo di alienazione proprio delle res mancipii. Vero è, che in
questi ultimi tempi si è dubitato, se la mancipatio non siasi più tardi
applicata anche a quelle res nec mancipii, che potevano essere oggetto di
proprietà quiritaria: ma questa opinione non sembra potersi accogliere, di
fronte alle afferma zioni precise di Gaio e di Ulpiano, i quali parlano sempre
della manci. patio, come propria delle res mancipii (1). Ciò tuttavia non
impedi, che colla legislazione decemvirale la mancipatio abbia acquistata una
elasticità e pieghevolezza, che prima non aveva, il che spiega come essa sia
durata così lungo tempo, quale mezzo di trasferimento della proprietà, ed abbia
in questa parte esercitata una influenza analoga a quella esercitata dalla
stipulatio in materia di obbligazioni. Sembra infatti, che il facere mancipium,
negli inizii, fosse uno di quei ne gozii di strettissimo diritto, che
producevano l'immediata traslazione della proprietà, e non ammettevano perciò
nè termine, nè condi zioni. Le XII Tavole invece introdussero il principio: «
qui manci pium faciet, uti lingua nuncupassit, ita ius esto », e diedero così
libertà ai contraenti di aggiungere al primitivo mancipium, sotto la forma di
una nuncupatio, che faceva parte integrante del negozio, tutte le clausole e
condizioni, che potessero convenire ai contraenti. Fu in questo modo, che
l'antica mancipatio potè accomodarsi alla varietà dei casi e delle esigenze, e
che si vennero così formolando, per opera degli stessi pontefici e
giureconsulti, quelle clausole diverse, che sogliono essere indicate col
vocabolo di leges mancipii. Colle medesime infatti il mancipio dans, pur
alienando la cosa, potè riservarsi l'usufrutto della medesima, potè alienarla
con patto di (1) GA10, I, 120, Ulp., Fragm., XIX, 3. Vedi tuttavia ciò che in
proposito si disse a pag. 441, nota 1. 495 - riscatto, poté restringere la
propria garanzia per l'evizione, ed anche limitare l'uso della cosa venduta per
parte dell'acquirente. Era pero naturale, che, per aggiungere alla mancipatio
tutte queste clausole, più non poteva bastare la semplice affermazione del man
cipio accipiens, che la cosa era sua ex iure quiritium; maoccor reva eziandio,
che il mancipio dans, con una congrua risposta, apponesse quelle clausole e
condizioni, che potessero essere del caso, le quali, entrando a far parte
integrante della stessa mancipatio, dovevano fra i contraenti avere la forza di
vere leggi (1). 385. Sopratutto, fra queste leges mancipii, viene ad essere
impor tantissima quella, che suol essere indicata col vocabolo di lex fidu ciae,
od anche semplicemente con quello di fiducia (2). Questa pro babilmente doveva
essere nata nelle consuetudini della plebe, la quale, non possedendo le vere
forme giuridiche, doveva di necessità nelle proprie convenzioni lasciare una
larga parte alla scambievole fiducia (3 ). Anche questa fiducia colla
legislazione decemvirale pe netrò nel ius quiritium, dove, combinandosi col
rigoroso atto della mancipatio, diede origine a quella singolare istituzione
della man cipatio cum fiducia, che doveva poi acquistare un così largo (1) Si
può veder raccolta nel Voigt, op. cit., II, $ 85, pag. 146 a 166, una varietà
grandissima di queste clausole o leges mancipii, raccolte da passi di antichi
autori. Nel Bruns parimenti, Fontes, pag. 251 a 256, sono riportati parecchi
moduli di mancipationes, che pervennero fino a noi. (2) Quanto alla mancipatio
cum fiducia è a vedersi il Voigt, $ 86, pag. 166 a 187, ove sono raccolte le
formole, che vi si riferiscono. È poi degno di nota quel modulo di mancipatio
fiduciae causa, che si fa risalire al primo o secondo secolo dell' êra
cristiana, riportato dal Bruns, Fontes, pag. 251. (3) Le ragioni, per cui le
origini della fiducia devono cercarsi nelle costumanze della plebe, furono già
esposte al n ° 149, pag. 184. Di recente un giovine e dotto autore, l’Ascoli,
ebbe in proposito a scrivere, che la fiducia, come forma di pegno, non dovette
essere il prodotto spontaneo delle pratiche necessità del commercio, ma una
creazione artificiale, e che l'ipoteca nel suo concetto astratto è più semplice
della fiducia (Le origini dell'ipoteca e l'interdetto Salviano, Livorno, 1887,
pag. 1). Io credo, che se l'autore si riporti col pensiero ad una plebe
ragunaticcia, in parte immigrata e priva ancora di una vera posizione di
diritto, di fronte ai patrizii, fon datori della città, comprenderà facilmente
come i membri di essa, per trovar cre dito presso coloro, che già vi si trovavano
stabiliti, non avessero mezzo più acconcio, che quello di alienare a questi cum
fiducia le cose, che loro dovevano servire di pegno. L'ipoteca invece avrebbe
già supposto una comunanza di diritto, che ancora non esisteva, e un'analisi
del diritto di proprietà, che mal si poteva conciliare colle condizioni di un
popolo primitivo. 496 svolgimento nel diritto civile di Roma. Con essa, accanto
all'ele mento strettamente giuridico, cominciò a penetrare anche la consi
derazione della buona fede, in quanto che non si bado più in modo esclusivo
alla osservanza delle forme esteriori del negozio giuridico, ma cominciò anche
a tenersi qualche conto dell' intenzione vera ed effettiva dei contraenti. Che
anzi questo elemento fiduciario fu introdotto nella formola stessa della
mancipatio, cosicchè il man cipio accipiens non affermò più, la sua proprietà
assoluta sulla cosa a lui alienata, ma disse invece: « hunc ego hominem fidei
fi duciae causa ex iure quiritium meum esse aio »; colla qual formola già si
lasciava intendere, che, sebbene egli avesse acquistata la proprietà
quiritaria, questa perd era stata affidata al suo onore per l'adempimento di
qualche incarico di fiducia (1). Questa fiducia poi, secondo Gaio, poteva farsi
o con un amico o con un creditore. Essa accadeva, ad esempio, con un amico
nella manci patio familiae cum fiducia, che fu una delle forme più antiche di
testamento, mediante cui si mancipava il proprio patrimonio ad un amico (familiae
emptor), coll'incarico di disporne nella guisa statagli indicata per il tempo,
in cui altri avesse cessato di vivere. La fiducia seguiva invece con un
creditore, allorchè a lui si mancipava la cosa, che si voleva lasciargli a
titolo di pegno (2 ). È probabile che dap prima questa clausola fiduciaria non
avesse efficacia giuridica, ma col tempo essa venne acquistandola. Per tal modo
la mancipatio cum fiducia venne cambiandosi in un espediente giuridico,
mediante cui la mancipatio non serviva più unicamente al trasferimento della
proprietà; ma serviva eziandio per costituire comodati, donazioni mortis causa,
doti, e riceveva cosi applicazioni diverse, anche nei rapporti famigliari, nei
quali essa si svolse, come vedremo a suo tempo, sotto la forma di coemptio
fiduciaria (3). 386. Fu questo il magistero, mediante cui la mancipatio fu dal
diritto civile di Roma adattata alle varie contingenze di fatto; ma (1) Cfr. il
MUIRHEAD, op. cit., pag. 140 e seg. e il Voigt, op. cit., II, pag. 172. (2) È
notevole in proposito il passo di ISIDORO, Orig., 5, 22, 23, 24, riportato dal
Bruns, Fontes, pag. 406, in cui egli istituisce, sulle vestigia di qualche
antico au tore, una specie di raffronto fra il pignus, la fiducia e l'hypotheca.
Della fiducia egli scrive: « fiducia est, cum res aliqua, sumendae mutuae
pecuniae gratia, vel man cipatur vel in iure ceditur ». (3) Quanto alle
svariate applicazioni della fiducia V. Ascoli, op. cit., pag. 3 e seg. 497
siccome la sua applicazione era pur sempre circoscritta alle res mancipii,
cosi, accanto alla medesima, si introdussero o si confer marono dalla
legislazione decemvirale due altri modi di acquistare e di trasmettere la
proprietà, di indole e di origine compiutamente diversa, ancorchè entrambi
costituiscano un ius proprium civium romanorum. Essi sono l'in iure cessio e
l'usucapio. È ovvio scorgere l'opposizione, che esiste fra questi due mezzi di
acquisto della proprietà ' quiritaria. Mentre l'in iure cessio viene talvolta
nelle fonti ad essere indicata col vocabolo di legis actio, perchè essa, al
pari delle legis actiones, si compie in iure, cioè da vanti al magistrato, ed è
in certo modo una rei vindicatio non con traddetta. (1); l'usucapio invece
nelle dodici tavole viene ad essere indicata col vocabolo di usus auctoritas.
Mentre la prima consiste in una finta rivendicazione, fatta dal compratore o
dal cessionario, non contrastata dal venditore o dal cedente della cosa, che
forma oggetto di negozio, la quale si compie davanti almagistrato, e a cui
sussegue l'aggiudicazione del medesimo; la seconda invece fondasi
esclusivamente sull'autorità dell'uso, cosicchè una cosa posseduta per due
anni, se trattisi di un fondo, e per un anno, se trattisi di qualsiasi altra
cosa, finirà per appartenere ex iure quiritium a colui che ebbe a possederla.
Mentre nella in iure cessio noi abbiamo un modo di procedere, eminentemente
legale e giuridico, in quanto che essa compiesi coll'intervento del magistrato;,
nella usucapio in vece abbiamo un fatto, che trasformasi in diritto, ossia
l'uso od il possesso, che trasformansi nella proprietà ex iure quiritium,
quando abbiano durato per un certo spazio di tempo. Queste considerazioni mi
inducono a ritenere, che, mentre l'in iure cessio è un modo di acquisto,
ricavato dal diritto proprio delle genti patrizie, presso le quali tutto già
facevasi con formalità so lenni e coll'intervento del magistrato, l'usus
auctoritas invece do vette avere origine presso la plebe, la quale, avendo
dapprima più una posizione di fatto, che una posizione di diritto, dovette cono
scere più l’uso ed il possesso, che non la proprietà nella significa zione, che
vi attribuivano i patrizii. L'accoglimento pertanto di questi due modi di
acquistare e di trasmettere la proprietà quiri di essa (1) È lo stesso Gaio,
Comm., II, 24, che, dopo aver descritta l'in iure cessio, dice idque legis actio
vocatur ». A questa descrizione di Gaio poi corrisponde quella brevissima di
Ulp., Fragm., XIX, 10 « In iure cedit dominus; vindicat is, cui ceditur;
addicit Praetor ». G. CARLE, Le origini del diritto di Roma. 32 498 taria fu in
certo modo il frutto di una specie di compromesso fra i due ordini; poichè da
una parte si riconosceva la cessio in iure davanti al magistrato, il quale era
ricavato dall'ordine patrizio, e dall'altra il patriziato cominciava a
riconoscere qualche efficacia giu ridica a quell'usus auctoritas, sulla quale
'soltanto fondavansi i di ritti della plebe (1). (1) Qui cade in acconcio di
arrestarci alquanto alla significazione da attribuirsi alla espressione « usus
auctoritas », che occorre nelle XII Tavole. La legge relativa dal DIRKSEN
collocata al nº 3 della Tavola VI, e fu riportata colle parole stesse di
CICERONE, Top., 4: « usus auctoritas fundi biennium est; ceterarum rerum omnium
annuus est usus ». Essa invece dal Voigt, op. cit., I, pag. 110, sarebbe
collocata al n. 6, della Tavola V, e sarebbe così concepita: « usus, auctoritas
biennium, cetera rum rerum annuus esto ». Di qui molte discussioni fra gli
studiosi relativamente ai rapporti fra i due termini usus ed auctoritas, al
qual proposito l'opinione pre valente sembra essere, che il vocabolo di usus si
riferisca all'usucapione e quello di auctoritas alla garanzia del titolo, che
incombe al venditore in una mancipazione; cosicchè la legge verrebbe a dire,
che tanto l'usus quanto l'auctoritas sarebbero li mitati a due o ad un anno,
secondo le cose di cui si tratta. Tale opinione sarebbe stata prima enunciata
dal SALMASIO, De usuris, cap. 8, pag. 215; Lugd., Bat. 1638, e troverebbe
seguito ancora oggidì, presso il Voigt, il quale avrebbe perciò separato l'usus
dall'auctoritas con una virgola. A mio avviso invece sembra alquanto fuor di
luogo, che si venga a discorrere di garanzia dall'evizione colà, ove tutti gli
antichi autori non ci parlano che dell'usucapione. Parmi poi evidente, che
l'espressione effi cacissima di « usus auctoritas » non possa essere che il
contrapposto dell'altra espres sione « iuris auctoritas », e che quindi la
significazione naturale della medesima consista in dire, che l'uso varrà come
titolo, e il possesso equivarrà a proprietà, allorchè essi siano durati un
biennio pei fondi, e un anno per tutte le altre cose. Il solo vocabolo di usus,
analogo a quello di possessio, non avrebbe potuto da solo indicare
l'usucapione, e fu perciò, che dovette dirsi usus auctoritas, la quale
espressione appunto occorre in Cic., Top., 4. Sia pure che lo stesso Co., pro
Caec., 19, sembri separare le due cose, allorchè scrive: « lex usum et
auctoritatem fundi iubet esse biennium »; ma è facile il vedere, che la dizione
qui è già alterata dall'uso dell'infinito, e che le due parole indicano pur
sempre una cosa sola, cioè l'autorità od il diritto sul fondo provenienti
dall'uso. Ogni dubbio poi viene ad essere tolto dal passo di Boezio, in Cic., Top.,
loc. cit., nel quale trovansi appunto contrapposte l'usus auctoritas e la iuris
auctoritas. Egli infatti, dopo aver definita l'usucapio, scrive: « Plurima «
rum autem rerum usucapio annua est, ut si quis eis anno continuo fuerit usus, «
id firma iuris auctoritate possideat, velut rem mobilem; fundi vero usucapio «
biennii temporis spatio continetur. Ait Cicero: ut, quoniam ususauctoritas
fundi « biennium est, sit etiam aedium. Hic igitur aedium usus auctoritatem
biennio « fieri sentit » (Bruns, Fontes, pag. 400). Che se altrove la legge
dice a adversus hostes aeterna auctoritas esto », gli è perchè ivi parlasi
tanto della iuris, che del l'usus auctoritas, e quindi non occorreva
specificare il concetto, ed anche perchè il vocabolo di auctoritas da solo
significa la iuris auctoritas. In ogni caso sarebbe in 499 387. Dei due
istituti tuttavia esercito certamente una maggiore influenza sullo svolgimento
del diritto romano l'usucapio, che non l'in iure cessio. Di questa infatti dice
Gaio, che la medesima, quanto alle res man cipii, non poteva competere colla
mancipatio, poichè era naturale che quello, che poteva compiersi dagli stessi
contraenti, coll'inter vento di amici, non si compiesse con difficoltà maggiori
presso il magistrato (1). Di qui ne venne che, sebbene l'in iure cessio po
tesse anche applicarsi alle res mancipii, essa invece fini per restrin gersi al
trasferimento di quelle cose, che per essere nec mancipii non erano suscettive
di mancipatio. Così, ad esempio, Gaio ci dice, che mediante l'in iure cessio si
poteva fare la costituzione delle servitù urbane, le quali erano res nec
mancipii, la cessione della eredità, che consideravasi come una cosa
incorporale, come pure la costituzione dell'usufrutto. Quanto a quest'ultimo
tuttavia, egli os serva, che esso poteva anche costituirsi mediante la
mancipatio, al lorchè altri, mancipando la cosa, riservava per sè l'usufrutto
della medesima, apponendovi una lex mancipii: mentre invece colui, che voleva
conservare la proprietà, non avrebbe potuto staccarne l'usu frutto, che
mediante la in iure cessio (2). L'usucapio invece deve essere considerata come
una delle istitu zioni, che maggiormente influirono sullo svolgimento del
diritto. Essa in certo modo fu il mezzo somministrato alla plebe per passare da
una posizione di fatto ad una posizione di diritto, per cambiare cioè la
semplice usus auctoritas nella iuris auctoritas. Fu quindi essa, che determinò
la formazione della teoria del possesso, accanto a quella della proprietà, e
che condusse la giurisprudenza a deter minare le condizioni, mediante cui il
possesso può trasformarsi in proprietà. È poi degno di nota, quanto
all'usucapio del diritto qui comprensibile, che Gato ed ULPIANO, i quali ebbero
più volte ad accennare a questa disposizione delle XII Tavole, avessero sempre
solo avuto occasione di parlare della durata dell'usucapio, e non mai della
durata dell'obbligo di garanzia per parte del mancipante. Parmi quindi, che la
ricostruzione più probabile sia la seguente: « usus auctoritas fundi biennium,
ceterarum rerum annus esto »; la quale concorda anche di più colle regole
grammaticali. (1) Scrive infatti Garo, Comm., II, 25, discorrendo della iure
cessio per le res mancipii: « Plerumque tamen et fere semper mancipationibus
utimur; quod enim ipsi per nos, praesentibus amicis, agere possumus, hoc non
est necesse cum maiore difficultate apud Praetorem aut Praesidem provinciae
agere ». (2) GAIO, II, 33; Ulp., Fragm., XIX, 11 e 12. 500 ritario, che essa, a
differenza della prescrizione, che ebbe ad essere introdotta molto più tardi,
non presentasi ancora come un mezzo di estinzione dei diritti, ma ha sopratutto
il carattere di un mezzo di acquisto, come lo indica il vocabolo stesso di
usucapio. Cid pure è confermato dal motivo, che si assegna come fondamento
all'usucapio, il quale non consiste nell'intento di punire coloro, che
trascurassero di esercitare il proprio diritto, ma bensi in quello di evitare
l'in certezza dei dominii: « ne rerum dominia diutius in incerto essent ». 388.
Le considerazioni premesse dimostrano, che l'usucapio fu effettivamente
adottata dai decemviri per fare in modo che le pos sessioni della plebe
potessero in un breve periodo di tempo acqui. stare anch' esse il carattere
quiritario, cosicchè tutti i possessori di terre si cambiassero in breve in
veri proprietarii ex iure quiritium. Quest'effetto era già stato ottenuto in
grande col censo serviano, il quale aveva convertito di un tratto tutti i
mancipia, proprii della plebe, in altrettante proprietà ex iure quiritium,
facendoli consegnare nel censo; ed il medesimo processo venne ad essere reso
continuativo colla disposizione relativa all'usus auctoritas, la quale in breve
spazio di tempo attribuiva al sem plice possesso il carattere di un vero e
proprio diritto. Ciò appare eziandio dalle applicazioni del tutto diverse di
questa usus aucto ritas, la quale compare non solo qual mezzo per acquistare la
pro prietà quiritaria delle cose mobili ed immobili, ma anche qual mezzo per
far acquistare al marito la manus sulla propria moglie, e quale mezzo infine
per far acquistare col possesso di un anno la proprietà quiritaria di
un'eredità, come accade nell'usucapio pro herede (1 ). Così pure dapprima non
si richiedono condizioni di sorta, perchè l'usucapio possa effettuarsi, ma
basta il possesso di uno, op pure di due anni, ed è solo posteriormente, che i
giurisprudenti fis (1) Il concetto qui accennato fu già più largamente svolto
al nº 154, p. 190 e seg., ove ho dimostrato che l'attribuire carattere
giuridico ai possessi della plebe nel ter. ritorio romano era il miglior mezzo
per interessarla all'avvenire e alla grandezza della città. Cfr. il MUIRHEAD,
op. cit., pag. 48, e l'Es sin, Histoire de l' usucapion nei « Mélanges
d'histoire du droit », Paris, 1886, pag. 171 a 217. Dal momento poi, che l'usus
auctoritas era per i decemviri un mezzo per cambiare una posizione di fatto in
una posizione di diritto, si comprende come essi non abbiano avuto diffi coltà
di applicarla all'acquisto della proprietà, all'acquisto della manus, ed anche
all'acquisto dell'eredità (usucapio pro herede). 501 sano le condizioni, che
debbono concorrere in tale possesso, perchè possa dar luogo all'usucapione (1).
Tuttavia fin da principio la legge decemvirale già comincia ad escludere certe
cose dall'usucapione, come le cose furtive, le res mancipii appartenenti alla
donna, quando siano state vendute e consegnate senza il consenso del tutore
(sine tutoris auctoritate) (2 ), mentre è solo più tardi, che la giurisprudenza
venne a richiedere la buona fede nell'acquirente. Per tal modo un mezzo, che
dapprima servi per mutare una posizione di fatto in una posizione di diritto,
fini col tempo per convertirsi eziandio in un rimedio contro il difetto
inerente al titolo di acquisto, proveniente o da irregolarità dell'atto di
trasferimento o da incapacità dell'ac quirente (3 ). L'usucapione poi, per sua
natura, può già applicarsi cosi alle res mancipii, che alle res nec mancipii,
ma non pud tuttavia applicarsi al suolo provinciale, come quello, che non
poteva essere oggetto di proprietà quiritaria (4 ). Tuttavia anche qui co
mincia a svolgersi una istituzione del diritto delle genti, che è quella della
prescrizione, la quale, salvo la durata maggiore, ha un carattere analogo a
quello della usucapio nel diritto civile: come lo dimostra il fatto, che le due
istituzioni finiscono col tempo per fondersi insieme, e dar cosi origine alla
praescriptio longi temporis giustinianea (5 ). (1) Questo carattere
dell'usucapio primitiva è già accennato dall'Esmein, op. cit., pag. 177, e può
inferirsi dalla definizione di Ulpiano, Fragm., XIX, 8: « Usucapio « est
dominii adeptio per continuationem possessionis anni, vel biennii »; nella
quale non occorre ancora quel carattere della iusta possessio, che compare
invece nelle altre definizioni, e fra le altre in quella di Boezio riportata
dal Bruns, Fontes, pag. 400. Quanto ai rapporti fra il possesso, di cui qui si
parla, che sarebbe il pos sesso ad usucapionem, ed il possesso ad interdicta,
che costituisce un istituto, avente un proprio scopo, e distinto da quello
della proprietà, vedi ciò che si disse più sopra al n. 357, pag. 452, nota 1. A
parer mio dovette forınarsi prima il concetto del pos sesso ad usucapionem, e
più tardi soltanto quello del possesso ad interdicta. (2 ) Questa condizione
speciale delle res mancipii, spettanti alle femmine ed ai pupilli, la quale ha
evidentemente lo scopo di impedire l'alienazione delmancipium per conservarlo
nella linea agnatizia, è attestata in modo concorde da Gaio, Comm., I, 47, 192
e II, 80, e da ULP., Fragm., XI, 27. (3) È naturale infatti, che l'usucapione
in una società, che si forma, sia un modo di acquisto, e che in una società
invece, che si è formatn, si converta in un mezzo di difesa; e richieda così un
tempo maggiore per servire quale mezzo di acquisto. Le società giovani pensano
sopratutto all'acquisto; mentre le società adulte e già for mate pensano
sopratutto a conservare l'acquistato. (4 ) GAIO, Comm., II, 46: « item
provincialia praedia usucapionem non recipiunt ». (5 ) Mainz, Cours de droit
romain, I, SS 111 e 112, pag. 745 e segg. 502 389. Intanto,mentre accade questo
svolgimento nei modi di trasfe rimento della proprietà ex iure quiritium,
accanto alla medesima viene lentamente consolidandosi un'altra forma di
proprietà, che prende il nome di proprietà in bonis. Questa dapprima non è che
una proprietà di fatto, ma col tempo ottiene anch'essa in via indi retta e per
opera del pretore una protezione di diritto, e viene così a costituire un vero
dualismo nel concetto di proprietà, il che ebbe ad esprimere Gaio con dire: «
postea divisionem accepit dominium, ut alius possit esse ex iure quiritium
dominus, alius in bonis habere (1) ». Il primo nucleo di questa nuova forma di
proprietà ebbe ad essere costituito dalle res mancipii, allorchè le medesime
erano trasmesse colla semplice traditio; ma poscia essa fini per comprendere
tutte le altre cose, che per qualsiasi causa non fossero oggetto della
proprietà ex iure quiritium. Che anzi il dualismo andò fino a tale per
l'esistenza contemporanea del ius civile e del ius honorarium, che di una
stessa cosa potè accadere, che altri fosse il proprietario ex iure quiritium,
mentre un altro la teneva in bonis; il che voleva dire in sostanza, che l'uno
ne aveva la pro prietà ufficiale, mentre l'altro ne aveva l'effettivo godimento.
È tut tavia notabile, che prima della fusione delle due proprietà, quella in
bonis già cominciava in certe cose ad avere la prevalenza; come lo dimostra il
fatto, che se un servo appartenesse ad una persona ex iure quiritium, e fosse
stato in bonis di un altro, gli acquisti, che egli faceva, andavano a profitto
di colui, del quale era in bonis (2 ). Diqui una lotta fra le due forme di
proprietà, che diede occasione allo svolgersi dei modi naturali di acquisto,
accanto a quelli ricono sciuti dal diritto civile; lotta, che Gaio ebbe a
riassumere scrivendo: « Ergo ex his, quae dicimus, apparet, quaedam naturali
iure alie nari, qualia sunt ea, quae traditione alienantur; quaedam civili, nam
mancipationis et in iure cessionis et usucapionis ius pro prium est civium
romanorum » (3). Così è pure questa lotta, che porge occasione allo svolgersi
della publiciana in rem actio (4 ), ac canto alla rei vindicatio, della
prescrizione accanto all'usucapione, (1) Gaio, Comm., II, 40. (2) Gaio, II, 88
e UlP., Fragm., XIX, 20. (3) Id., II, 65. Di qui infatti Gaio prende occasione
di discorrere deimodi natu rali di acquisto. (4) Quanto all'actio in rem
pubbliciana è da vedersi APPLETON, De l'action pub blicienne nella « Nouvelle
Revuehistorique », 1885, pag. 481-526, e 1886, pag. 276-342. - - 503 fino a che
le due proprietà finiscono per essere pareggiate fra di loro, ed allora si
consegue l'effetto, che quelle caratteristiche della pro prietà quiritaria, che
si erano prima applicate a quel nucleo ristretto di cose, che erano comprese
nel mancipium, poi si erano estese a tutte le cose, che erano oggetto delle
proprietà ex iure quiritium, finiscono per essere estese a tutte le cose, che,
per essere in com mercio, possono essere oggetto di proprietà privata. È solo
allora che Giustiniano, forse non troppo consapevole dell'ufficio, che un tempo
avevano compiuto le distinzioni fra res mancipii e nec man cipii e fra la
proprietà ex iure quiritium e la proprietà in bonis, abolisce pressochè ab
irato queste distinzioni, le quali a suo giu dizio « nihil ab eniymate
discrepant» e dànno solo più origine ad inutili ambiguità ed incertezze (1).
390. Infine anche qui deve essere notato, che tutta questa teoria del
trasferimento della proprietà non potè mai trovare applicazione in tema di
obbligazioni. Almodo stesso, che più tardi la giurisprudenza romana continua ad
affermare che « traditionibus et usucapionibus dominia rerum, non nudis pactis,
transferuntur » (2); così essa pur continua a professare, che i modi, i quali
servono a trasferire la pro prietà, non possono invece servire per trasferire
un'obbligazione da una persona ad un'altra. Scrive infatti Gaio, dopo aver
discorso della mancipatio e della in iure cessio, quali modi di trasferimento
della proprietà: « obligationes, quoquo modo contractae, nihil eorum recipiunt;
nam quod mihi ab aliquo debetur, id si velim tibi de beri, nullo eorum modo,
quibus res corporales ad alium transfe runtur, id efficere possum; sed opus
est, ut, iubente me, tu ab eo stipuleris » (3 ). Quindi le obbligazioni, che si
contraggono colla sti pulatio, devono essere trasmesse e cedute anche colla
stipulatio, e non potrebbero esserlo colla mancipatio e colla in iure cessio,
che sono circoscritte al trasferimento della proprietà e dei diritti reali. Per
tal modo quella distinzione radicale e profonda, che apparve nell'antico ius
quiritium, fra il facere mancipium ed il facere nexum, si mantenne per tutto lo
svolgimento posteriore del diritto civile romano, nel che abbiamo un'altra
prova della dialettica co (1) Giustin., Cod., VII, 25: de nudo iure quiritium
tollendo; e VII, 31, $ 4: de usucapione transformanda et de sublata differentia
rerum mancipii et nec mancipii (2 ) L.20, Cod., II, 3 (Dioclet. et Maxim.). (3
) Gaio, Comm., II, 38. 504 stante, con cui i giureconsulti romani tengono
dietro ai concetti pri mordiali, da cui presero le mosse nella prima
elaborazione del ius quiritium. Ciascun concetto di questo è come un nucleo,
che viene attraendo tutto ciò, che può esservi di affine, ma il medesimo non si
confonde mai coi concetti, da cui ebbe già a separarsi, nè pud at trarre
materie, che siano partite da un concetto primordiale diverso. Chi poi volesse
trovare la ragione intima, per cui nel diritto civile romano il semplice
contratto può soltanto essere sorgente di obbligazioni, e non potè mai bastare
da solo al trasferimento della proprietà, dovrebbe probabilmente ricercarla nel
concetto in parte materiale, che il primitivo diritto erasi formato prima del
manci pium e poscia anche del dominium ex iure quiritium; avrebbe infatti
ripugnato alla logica giuridica, che un dominio, il quale aveva in se qualche
cosa di corporale, potesse trasferirsi senza es sere accompagnato da qualche
fatto esteriore, che mettesse la cosa acquistata a disposizione dell'acquirente.
Veniamo ora al testamento e cerchiamo di spiegare come mai anche un atto di
questa natura abbia finito per rivestire la forma dell'atto per aes et libram.
$ 4. La testamenti factio e la storia primitiva del testamento quiritario. 391.
Degli atti, che rimontano all'antico ius quiritium, il testa mento è certamente
quello, di cui ci pervennero in maggior quantità i dati per ricostruirne la
storia primitiva, e per seguire le trasfor mazioni, che ebbe a subire nel
passaggio dal periodo gentilizio alla vita cittadina. Non può dubitarsi
anzitutto, che le origini del testamento rimon tano ad un'epoca anteriore alla
fondazione della città, perchè noi sappiamo con certezza, che esso fin dagli
inizii della città esclusiva mente patrizia fu uno degli atti, che, al pari
dell'adrogatio, della detestatio sacrorum e simili, dovevano essere compiuti
coll'inter vento dei pontefici, davanti al popolo delle curie, riunito nei
comizii calati. Ciò dimostra, che esso già preesisteva presso le genti
patrizie, che concorsero alla fondazione delle città, le quali dovettero ser
virsene, comedi un mezzo per perpetuare la famiglia ed il suo culto. Si è
veduto infatti, che nella organizzazione delle genti italiche la famiglia,
ancorchè entrasse a far parte di un organismo maggiore, cioè della gente e della
tribù, aveva però già una propria esistenza, 505 un proprio culto, e un proprio
patrimonio (heredium ). Era quindi naturale, che essa tendesse a perpetuarsi, e
che perciò il capo di famiglia riguardasse. come una grande sventura la
mancanza di un erede, che continuasse in certo modo la sua personalità, e che
adem piesse all'obligo del sacrifizio domestico. Fu quindi per supplire alla
mancanza di un erede naturale, che noi troviamo essere in uso presso le genti
italiche l'adrogatio ed il testamentum: due istitu zioni, le quali, ancorchè in
guisa diversa, mirano in sostanza al medesimo intento, cioè alla perpetuazione
della famiglia e del suo culto. Intanto però, siccome l'una e l'altra
istituzione toccavano da vicino l'organizzazione gentilizia, cosi egli è certo,
che nel periodo gentilizio l'adrogatio e il testamentum non poterono compiersi
dal capo di famiglia, di sua privata autorità, ma dovettero invece essere
compiuti colla approvazione degli altri capi di famiglia, che appar tenevano
alla medesima gente o tribù (1). 392. Allorchè poi le due istituzioni vennero
ad essere trapiantate nella città patrizia, esse conservarono dapprima il
medesimo carat tere, e perciò apparirono come due negozi, i quali, avendo un
carat tere pubblico, non potevano operarsi di privata autorità, ma dovevano
essere compiuti nei comizii calati delle curie, convocati dai ponte fici. Che
anzi, se abbiamo da argomentare dalla formola dell'adro gatio, che ci fu
conservata da Gellio, conviene inferirne, che anche il testamento, in questo
periodo, dovette assumnere il carattere di una vera e propria legge (2 ).
Intanto però egli è evidente, che questo testamento nei comizii calati delle
curie dovette essere esclusivamente proprio delle genti patrizie, e che il
medesimo non ebbe certamente lo scopo di porgere al testatore un mezzo di
disporre a capriccio delle proprie sostanze; (1) Ho già toccato dell'attinenza
strettissima, che intercede fra l'adrogatio ed il testamentum nel periodo
gentilizio al nº 63-65, pag. 77 e segg. Cfr. in proposito il SUMNER -MAINE,
Ancien droit, pag. 184 e il CoQ, Recherches sur le testament per aes et libram
nella « Nouvelle Revue historique », 1886, pag. 536. Qui solo ag. giungerò, che
questa attinenza appare anche meglio nel diritto greco, e sopratutto
nell'ateniese, nel quale il primitivo testamento compare sotto la forma
dell'adozione. Cfr. il Jannet, Les institutions sociales a Sparta. Paris, 1880,
pag. 96 e segg.; e il Cocotti, La famiglia nel diritto attico. Torino, 1886,
pag. 69. (2) Questo carattere pressochè pubblico dell'adrogatio e del
testamentum in Roma non è mai intieramente scomparso, come lo prova il detto di
PAPINIANO, L. 4, Dig. (28-1): testamenti factio iuris publici est. Cfr. quanto
ho scritto a n ° 221, pag. 268 e seg. 506 - ma lo scopo invece di perpetuare la
famiglia ed il suo culto, e di impedire la divisione immediata del patrimonio,
come lo dimostra l'antica espressione romana « ercto non cito »; la quale ha
tutti i caratteri di una primitiva clausola testamentaria. Quanto alla plebe,
non avendo essa la organizzazione gentilizia, non poteva certamente possedere
un simile testamento; quindi è probabile, che il capo di famiglia plebeo,
quando rimaneva senza figliuolanza diretta, non avesse altro mezzo di disporre
delle proprie cose, che quello di ri correre all'istituto della fiducia,
affidando il suo patrimonio ad un amico, che ne disponesse nel modo da lui
indicato; modo questo di far testamento, che era una conseguenza naturale delle
condizioni economiche e giuridiche, in cui trovavasi la plebe, e che Gaio ci
indicherebbe come affatto primitivo, ed anteriore ancora a quella forma di
testamento, che a noi pervenne sotto la denominazione di testamento per aes et
libram (1 ). Di qui la conseguenza, che fin dagli esordii di Roma dovettero tro
varsi di fronte due forme di testamento; un testamento cioè, di origine
patrizia, fatto colla formalità di una vera e propria legge, nei comizii calati
delle curie, coll'intervento dei pontefici, diretto a perpetuare la famiglia ed
il suo culto e ad impedire la disper sione dei patrimonii; e l'altro, di
origine plebea, che compievasi colle forme stesse di quel fedecommesso, che
penetrò solo più tardi nel diritto civile romano, il quale non era che una
applicazione della fiducia, e aveva l'unico scopo di porgere un mezzo al capo
di famiglia per disporre delle proprie cose per il tempo, in cui egli avrebbe
cessato di vivere. 393. Fu soltanto allorchè la plebe entro eziandio a far
parte del populus, che potè svolgersi una forma di testamento, comune ai due
ordini, ed è sopratutto a questo punto, che l'esposizione di Gaio ci può venire
in sussidio per ricostruire la storia primitiva del testa mento civile romano
(2 ). Gaio ci parla di due forme primitive di testamento, cioè: di un
testamento, che compievasi in calatis comitiis, i quali si sarebbero radunati
due volte all'anno per la confezione dei testamenti; e del (1) Gaio, Comm., II,
107. Vedi a proposito di questo primitivo testamento della plebe, che era una
applicazione della fiducia e corrispondeva in certo modo a quel fedecommesso,
che fu accolto più tardi nel diritto romano, cid che ho scritto a n ° 149, pag.
184 e seg. Cfr. MUIRHEAD, Histor. Introd. (2 ) GAIO, II, 101 a 108. 507
testamento in procinctu, che facevasi invece davanti all'esercito già preparato
alla battaglia. Egli anzi sembra compiacersi nel notare, che queste due forme
di testamento corrispondevano a quel carat tere civile e militare ad un tempo,
che era proprio del popolo ro mano: « alterum itaque in pace et in otio
faciebant, alterum in praelium exituri » (1); ma intanto non dice, se i comizii
calati, a cui egli accenna, fossero i comizii delle curie o quelli delle
centurie. Sembra tuttavia ovvio l'osservare, che Gaio qui discorre già delle
due forme di testamento, comuni cosi al patriziato che alla plebe, allorché i
medesimi già erano entrati a far parte dello stesso populus, e che perciò la
sua distinzione non si deve riferire al popolo primitivo delle curie, ma bensì
al popolo plebeo-patrizio delle centurie; del quale sopratutto si poteva dire a
ragione, che mentre in pace co stituiva i comizii, in guerra invece costituiva
un esercito. Di qui la conseguenza, che il testamento in calatis comitiis, di
cui discorre Gaio, non è più il testamento proprio delle genti patrizie, che fa
cevasi nei comizii calati delle curie, coll'intervento dei pontefici: ma bensi
un testamento, già comune al patriziato ed alla plebe, che fa cevasi in quei
comizii calati, che noi sappiamo da Aulo Gellio essere stati eziandio proprii
delle centurie (2 ). Furono probabilmente questi comizii calati delle centurie,
che dovevano radunarsi due volte l'anno per la confezione dei testamenti:
mentre i comizii calati delle curie potevano convocarsi dai pontefici, ogni
qualvolta ne occorresse il bi sogno. Siccome poi in questo tempo il quirite,
come tale, appare già prosciolto dai vincoli dell'organizzazione gentilizia, ed
è già libero dispositore delle proprie cose, anche per atto di morte, come ebbe
a dichiararlo espressamente la legge decemvirale; così si può in durne, che il
popolo delle centurie, in questa fase del testamento quiritario, più non
intervenisse per approvare il medesimo con una legge, ma soltanto per prestare
la propria testimonianza, secondo la (1) GAIO, II, 101. (2 ) Gellio, XV, 27, 1
e 2, parlando dei co:nitia calata, scrive: « eorum alia esse « curiata, alia
centuriata. Curiata per lictorem curiatim calari, id est convocari; «
centuriata per cornicinem ». Egli dice poi, che in questi comizii si facevano i
testa menti, il che fa supporre che si facessero tanto nei comizii calati
curiati, che nei centuriati. Lo stesso autore V, 19, 6, parla un'altra ' volta
dei comizii calati, a pro posito dell'adrogatio, ma qui sembra alludere
soltanto ai comizii calati curiati. Sembra infatti che l'adrogatio, a
differenza del testamento, abbia continuato sempre a farsi davanti alle curie,
salvo che la medesima finì per compiersi davanti ai trenta littori, che la
rappresentavano. Cic., Adv. Rutt., II, 12. Cfr. Cuq, art. cit., p. 539. 508
formola, che poi ricompare più tardi nel testamento per aes et libram: « et vos,
quirites, testimonium mihi perhibitote ». Cid è confermato eziandio dalla
considerazione, che questi comizii calati non si sarebbero radunati che due
volte l'anno per la confezione dei testamenti, il che avrebbe reso pressochè
impossibile, che ognuno dei testamenti presentati nei medesimi avesse potuto
essere approvato con tutte quelle formalità di una vera e propria legge, che
erano richieste nei comizii calati delle curie primitive. 394. Di qui deriva,
che se questo testamento nei comizii calati delle centurie imitava ancora nella
forma esteriore il testamento pa trizio, che facevasi nei comizii calati delle
curie, nella sostanza pero già ne differiva grandemente: poichè nel medesimo
questo intervento di tutto il popolo convertivasi in una semplice formalità, in
quanto che il popolo non era più chiamato ad approvare il testamento,ma sol
tanto ad assistere al medesimo cometestimonio. Si comprende pertanto, che la
consuetudine popolare cercasse di sostituirvi qualche mezzo più semplice di
fare testamento, e che ricorresse percið alla manci patio familiae cum fiducia,
che è appunto la forma ditestamento, che Gaio ci descrive essersi introdotta
posteriormente al testamento in calatis comitiis (1). Questo testamento non era
in sostanza, che il testamento primitivo di origine plebea, salvo che esso era
già sottoposto alla forma quiritaria dell'atto per aes et libram, e ac
compagnato dalla fiducia. Era quindi un testamento, che era facile a
celebrarsi, ma che, al pari della fiducia iure pignoris, aveva dapprima
l'inconveniente di rimettere ogni cosa alla buona fede del familiae emptor, il
quale poteva anche abusare della fiducia, che il testatore aveva in lui riposta.
Fu allora, che i veteres iuris conditores sentirono la necessità, come dice
Gaio, di ordinare altrimenti il testamento per aes et libram, e modellarono
così quella forma di testamento, che penetrd con questa denominazione nel ius
quiritium o meglio nel ius pro prium civium romanorum, e che fu poi argomento
di uno svolgi mento storico non interrotto fino a Giustiniano. Questo
testamento (1) Fra gli autori, che distinguono la primitiva mancipatio familiae
cum fiducia, che ha quasi del fedecommesso, dal posteriore testamento per aes
et libram, quale è descritto da Gaio, II, 102, è da vedersi il MuIRHEAD, op.
cit., pag. 66 e 167, e sopratutto il Cuq, Op. e loc. cit., pag. 534 e segg., il
quale, dopo aver discorso prima della familiae mancipatio, passa a trattare
separatamente del testamento per aes et libram. 509 pertanto compare nel ius
quiritium molto più tardi, che non il nerum ed il mancipium, e viene ad essere
una artificiosa applica zione dell'atto per aes et libram, nell'intento di
porgere al quirite un mezzo per disporre del suo patrimonio per il tempo, in
cui avrà cessato di vivere. 395. Questo testamento, secondo la definizione di
Gaio e di Ul. piano, componevasi di due parti, cioè della mancipatio familiae e
della nuncupatio. La prima consiste in un atto per aes et libram, compiuto,
come al solito, davanti a non meno di cinque testimoni, cittadini romani, ed al
libripens, in cui si addiviene ad una « ima. ginaria venditio » delle sostanze
del testatore (familiae). È però a notarsi, che,mentre nella primitiva
mancipatio familiae il negozio seguiva effettivamente fra il testatore e
l'erede, di cui quello era il familiae venditor e questo il familiae emptor;
nel testamento invece per aes et libram, quale appare modellato in questo
secondo stadio, il familiae emptor non è più il vero erede, ma è piuttosto un
depositario e custode del patrimonio, accid il testatore possa disporne «
secundum legem publicam » (1 ). Cið appare dalla circostanza, che il familiae
emptor, dopo aver finto di comprare il patrimonio e di pagarne il prezzo, se ne
dichiara perd semplice depositario, ricorrendo alla formola seguente: « familia
pecuniaque tua endo mandatelam, custodelamque meam, quo tu iure testamentum
facere possis secundum legem publicam, hoc aere esto mihi empta » (2). (1)
Trovo alquanto singolare la interpretazione che il Cuq, art. cit., pag. 565,
verrebbe a dare a queste parole: « secundum legem publicam ». Egli ritiene, che
tutte le parole del testamento dovessero aversi come confermate da quella lex
publica, che era andata in disuso; mentre invece è evidente, che le parole
della formola: « quo tu iure testamentum facere possis secundum legem publicam
», mirano evidentemente a porre il familiae venditor in condizione di poter
fare il testamento approvato e riconosciuto dalla legge pubblica. Una prova di
cið l'abbiamo nella circo stanza, che questa stessa espressione « secundum
legem publicam », compare eziandio nella formola della nexi liberatio, in cui
si dice: « hanc tibi libram primam postre mamque tibi expendo secundum legem
publicam » (Gaio, III, 174 ), ove la medesima non può certo avere la
significazione, che vorrebbe attribuirvi il Cuq. La causa di questa erronea
interpretazione sta in ciò, che il Cuq considera il testamento per aes et
libram, come una modificazione di quello in calatis comitiis, mentre esso ha
un'origine affatto diversa, come ho cercato di dimostrare nel testo. (2) GAIO,
Comm., II, 104. Ho ricavato questa formola dall'ultima edizione curata dal
MOMMSEN, sull'Apographum Studemundianum, novis curis auctum, Berolini, 1884; la
quale presenta qualche notevole differenza dalle anteriori edizioni fatte dal
Dubois, dall'HUSCHKE e dal MUIRHEAD. 510 – Fin qui pertanto non havvi che una
imaginaria venditio, della quale Gaio dice espressamente, che viene compiuta
soltanto « dicis gratia, propter veteris iuris imitationem ». La sostanza
invece di questa forma di testamento consiste nella nuncupatio solenne, nella
quale il testatore, in presenza dei testimoni, istituisce il proprio erede, il
quale viene cosi già a distinguersi dal familiae emptor, ed indica eziandio i
legati, che saranno poi a carico dell'erede. Questa nuncupatio dapprima dovette
essere compiutamente orale; ma poscia potè essere fatta in doppia guisa, in
quanto che il testa tore – o dichiarava espressamente la sua volontà davanti ai
testi moni, - o presentava invece ai medesimi le sue tavole testamen tarie,
dichiarando solennemente, che queste contenevano la sua ultima volontà: « haec
ita, ut in his tabulis cerisve scripta sunt, ita do, ita lego, ita testor:
itaque, vos, quirites, testimo nium mihiperhibitote » (1). Di qui prorenne, che
già collo stesso testamento per aes et libram comincid a delinearsi la
distinzione, che acquistò più tardi grandissima importanza fra il testamento
nun cupativo e il testamento scritto. 396. Basta questa semplice descrizione
per dimostrare, che il testa mento per aes et libram è già informato ad un concetto
ben diverso da quello, a cui si ispirava il primitivo testamento delle genti
patrizie. Mentre infatti il testamento primitivo in calatis comitiis mirava a
perpetuare il culto domestico e ad impedire la dispersione dei patri monii:
quello invece per aes et libram tendeva senz'altro a sommi nistrare al quirite
un mezzo per disporre liberamente delle proprie cose. Ciò è dimostrato dalla
circostanza indicataci da Cicerone, che questo testamento deve considerarsi
come un'applicazione della di. sposizione delle XII Tavole: qui nexum faciet
mancipiumque, uti lingua nuncupassit, ita ius esto; ed è pur confermato dagli
antichi giureconsulti, i quali parlano di questo testamento, come di una va
rietà ed applicazione del nexum, o meglio dell'atto per aes et libram (2 ).
Così pure, mentre nel testamento primitivo si richiedeva (1) Gaio, loc. cit. e
Ulp., Fragm., XX, 2 a 10. Quest'ultimo sopratutto distingue nettamente le due
parti, di cui componesi il testamento per aes et libram, allorchè scrive al $ 9:
« In testamento, quod per aes et libram fit, duae res aguntur, fa miliae
mancipatio et nuncupatio testamenti »; e dopo viene senz'altro a parlare della
nuncupatio, come di quella, che veramente importa. (2 ) Cic., De Orat., I, 57,
§ 245. La stessa esposizione di Gaio, II, 102 e 103, dimostra, che il
testamento per aes et libram ebbe origine diversa da quello in - 511.
l'intervento dei pontefici, perchè in esso trattavasi di provvedere al
mantenimento del culto; il testamento invece per aes et libram viene ad essere
considerato come una esplicazione del ius commercii, ossia della facoltà del
quirite di disporre liberamente delle proprie cose, e quindi si attua mediante
un atto di carattere esclusivamente mercantile, quale era l'atto per aes et
libram, lasciando poi al ius pontificium di provvedere, quanto all'adempimento
dei sacra (1). Mentre infine nel testamento primitivo la volontà del testatore
era sottoposta all'approvazione del popolo; nel testamento invece per aes et
libram, la volontà del quirite appare indipendente e sovrana, e non è soggetta
a qualsiasi limitazione. Dopo ciò credo di poter conchiudere con fondamento,
che anche il testamento per aes et libram, quale compare nel ius quiritium,
deve già essere considerato come il frutto di una vera e propria elaborazione
giuridica, e comeuna conseguenza logica di quel potere illimitato e senza
confine, che appartiene al quirite di disporre delle proprie cose, non solo per
atto tra vivi, ma anche per causa di morte. Non potrei quindi ammettere col
Sumner Maine, che questa forma di testamento importasse dapprima uno spoglio
immediato ed irrevocabile del testatore a favore del proprio erede: tanto più,
che questa congettura è in diretta opposizione con tutte le notizie, che a noi
pervennero del testamento romano, il quale appare essere stato fin dapprincipio
una attestazione solenne « de eo quod quis post mortem tuam fieri vult » (2 ).
calatis comitiis, poichè egli non dice già, che il medesimo sia stato surrogato
a quello in calatis comitiis, ma dice invece: « accessit deinde tertium genus
testamenti ». (1) Cic., De leg., II, 19, 47. Cfr. in proposito il Cuq, art.
cit., pag. 555, il quale pure osserva, che la mancipatio familiae, e quindi
anche il testamento per aes et libram più non aveva carattere religioso, pag.
553, nota 2. (2) È noto come il SUMNER Maine, Ancien droit, pag. 191, abbia
coll'autorità del suo nome resa accetta a molti l'opinione, che il testamento
per aes et libram fosse di origine plebea, e che esso importasse negli inizii
una spogliazione immediata ed irre vocabile del testatore a favore dei proprii
eredi. Tale opinione non può essere ac colta; poichè il testamento per aes et
libram, anzichè essere proprio della plebe, fu invece una creazione del ius
quiritium, e quindi, al pari di ogni altro negozio qui ritario, rivestà la
forma dell'atto per aes et libram. Il motivo poi, per cui esso ri vestì la
forma di una mancipatio non sta in ciò, che esso siasi veramente riguar dato
come una vendita immediata, ma bensì nella circostanza, che esso imponeva
all'erede una quantità di obbligazioni, e fra le altre anche quella di
provvedere alla continuazione dei sacra e al pagamento dei legati. A questo
motivo si aggiunge una causa storica, ed è che il testamento per aes et libram
era un rimaneggia mento della primitiva mancipatio familiae cum fiducia, la
quale, essendo un atto di carattere puramente fiduciario, figurava come un vero
atto fra vivi. 512 397. Una volta poi che questo testamento entrò a far parte
del diritto quiritario, esso ebbe a ricevere uno svolgimento storico e Ingico
ad un tempo, non dissimile da quello delle altre istituzioni quiritarie, senza
che mai si perdessero i caratteri essenziali, con cui era penetrato nel diritto
civile di Roma. Così, ad esempio, il testamento era stato accolto nel diritto
quiri tario sotto l'apparenza di un negozio, che seguiva fra il testatore, qual
familiae venditor, e l'erede, quale familiae emptor: or bene ancora all'epoca
di Giustiniano esso conserva questo carattere, come lo provano l'unità di
contesto, che è richiesta nel testamento, e la disposizione per cui quelli, che
dipendono dall'erede, non possono servire di testimoni nel medesimo (1). Cosi
pure il testamento, nel suo concetto primitivo, aveva per iscopo di perpetuare
nell'erede la personalità del testatore, donde la conseguenza, che
l'istituzione dell'erede venne ad essere considerata quale « caput et fundamen
tum testamenti»; il qual concetto continua pure a mantenersi fino alla più
tarda giurisprudenza. Parimenti il testamento, nel suo primo presentarsi, era
stato un negozio di carattere nuncupativo, uno di quei negozi cioè, in cui la
parola del testatore costituiva legge, e noi troviamo, che in tutto il suo
svolgimento posteriore esso continua ad essere uno degli atti solenni, in cui
giunge fino agli ultimi confini l'osservanza di un linguaggio esatto e preciso;
come lo provano le espressioni solenni e precise, con cui doveva farsi
l'istituzione di erede, la diseredazione, l'istituzione di erede cum cretione,
e simili. Sopratutto poi questo carattere nuncupativo del testamento si fece
palese nel tema dei legati, in quanto che nel diritto civile di Roma le varie
specie di legato vennero ad essere determinate dalle diverse espressioni, adoperate
dal testatore (2 ). Infine anche quel principio, secondo cui la volontà del
testatore costituiva legge, continud a mantenersi anche più tardi; dapprima
infatti si cercò con mezzi in diretti, quali sarebbero l'obbligo della
diseredazione e la querela di (1) Questo carattere del primitivo testamento per
aes et libram, per cui esso si presenta come un negozio fra il familiae emptor
ed il familiae venditor, è chiara. mente attestato da Gaio, Comm., II, 105 a
107 e da Ulp., Fragm., XX, 3 a 6. Questo carattere poi non si perdette mai
completamente, ed è ancora ricordato da GIUSTINIANO, Instit., II, 10, $ 10. È
nota la distinzione fra i legati per vindicationem, per damnationem, sinendi
modo, e per praeceptionem: in essi la volontà del testatore appare come una
vera legge, e viene ad essere analizzata e studiata come la parola stessa del
legislatore. V. Gaio, II, 192 e 222; Ulp., Fragm., XXIV. 513 inofficioso
testamento, di impedire che il testatore potesse abusare della libertà, a lui
consentita dal primitivo diritto, e fu solo con Giustiniano che si introdusse
una limitazione diretta all'arbitrio del testatore, attribuendo a certe persone
il diritto ad una porzione legittima (1). 398. Intanto, anche nella materia
testamentaria, è facile scorgere come accanto al diritto già formato siavi
sempre una parte, che continua ad essere in via di formazione. Quindi anche
qui, accanto al testamento civile, si esplica un te stamento pretorio; ma anche
questo appare modellato a somiglianza del primo. Per verità nel testamento
pretorio più non comparisce l'atto per aes et libram, ma debbono però
intervenire due nuovi testimoni, i quali si ritengono corrispondere al
libripens ed al fa miliae emptor: donde la necessità di sette testimoni, che
dånno au tenticità al testamento, apponendovi col testatore il proprio sigillo.
Allorchè poi il testamento pretorio è riuscito anch'esso ad avere una efficacia
giuridica, sopravvengono anche in questa parte le co stituzioni imperiali, le
quali tendono a fondere insieme le due forme di testamento, finchè si giunge al
testamento giustinianeo, il quale è ancor esso un coordinamento delle forme
anteriori. Esso infatti, secondo l'attestazione di Giustiniano, viene ad essere
costituito da un triplice elemento, cioè: dall'unità di contesto e dalla
presenza dei testimoni, che proviene dal diritto civile: dal numero di sette
testimoni e dall'apposizione del loro sigillo, che è di origine pre toria: e
infine dalla sottoscrizione del testatore e dei testimonii, che deriva dalle
costituzioni imperiali. Ciò però non toglie, che anche Giustiniano, per
imitazione dell'antico, continui a ritenere il testa mento come un negozio che
interviene fra il testatore e l'erede, nel che abbiamo una prova della logica
tenace, che è propria della giu risprudenza romana, e del metodo da essa
costantemente seguito di venire coordinando nel medesimo istituto gli elementi,
che si ven nero successivamente formando (2 ). (1) L'istituzione della
legittima ebbe presso i Romani una lunga preparazione prima nello stesso
diritto civile, poi nel diritto onorario, la quale non terminò che collo stesso
Giustiniano. A mio avviso, il motivo degli espedienti, a cui si appiglid il
diritto, prima di venire alla fissazione di una legittima, deve appunto essere
riposto in cid, che non volevasi porre una limitazione diretta alla volontà del
testatore. Quanto alla storia della legittima, è a consultarsi il Boissonade,
De la réserve héréditaire. Chap. IV, Paris, 1888, pag. 61–160. (2 ) Justin.,
Instit., II, 10, $ S 3 e 10. G. CARLE, Le origini del diritto di Roma. 33 - 514
399. A compimento di questa materia non saranno inopportune le seguenti
osservazioni intorno allo svolgimento storico del testamento: 1 ° Il testamento
in Roma è un atto, in cui il quirite si presenta col suo doppio carattere di
uomo di pace e di guerra ad un tempo, come lo dimostra il dualismo fra il
testamento civile ed il testamento militare, il quale, dopo essere cominciato
colla distinzione fra il te stamento in calatis comitiis ed in procinctu, non
solo si mantiene, ma si viene accentuando sempre più fino all'epoca
diGiustiniano; 2 ° Nella storia del testamento romano si presenta questo fatto
singolare, che si vede ricomparire più tardi sotto nome di fidecom messo, una
forma di testamento analoga a quel testamento fiduciario, che era stato il
testamento primitivo in uso presso la plebe. Cid significa, che, accanto al
testamento quiritario, dovette mantenersi nelle consuetudini la primitiva forma
di testamento, la quale non riesci ad ottenere il proprio riconoscimento, che
all'epoca di Au gusto. Questi poi, accordando efficacia al fidecommesso, fini
per ce dere alla forza della pubblica opinione, e alla nécessità di ovviare
agli abusi, a cui dava luogo l'inefficacia giuridica di un testamento, in cui
tutto dipendeva dalla buona fede di colui, a cui erasi affi dato il testatore
(1). Noi abbiamo così una prova, che alcune delle istituzioni, che penetrarono
più tardi nel diritto quiritario, come proprie del diritto delle genti, già
preesistevano nella comunanza plebea, salvo che non erano riuscite a penetrare
in quella rigida selezione, mediante cui erasi formato il primitivo ius
quiritium. Un altro carattere di questo svolgimento storico consisterebbe in
cid, che nel diritto civile romano non riescirono mai a mescolarsi insieme la
successione testamentaria e la successione legittima; ma questa singolarità
potrà essere più facilmente spiegata nel capitolo seguente, dopo aver discorso
di quel ius connubii, di cui era una conseguenza la successione legittima,
stata accolta dal diritto civile romano (2 ). (1) Che il fedecommesso sia sempre
vissuto, se non nel diritto, almeno nelle con suetudini del popolo romano, lo
dimostra il fatto, che Augusto si indusse a dargli efficacia giuridica per
l'abuso, che taluni avevano fatto della fiducia in essi riposta. Appena accolto
poi il fedecommesso apparve così popolare e trovò così favorevole ac coglienza,
che si dovette ben presto istituire un pretore apposito (praetor fideicom
missarius). V. Justin., Instit., II, 23, ss 1 e 2. (2 ) Rimando l'indagine
intorno alle cagioni storiche della massima « nemo pro parte testatus pro parte
intestatus decedere potest, al seguente capitolo V, $ 5; perchè la questione
non potrebbe essere risolta senza aver prima cercato i rapporti, in cui stavano
presso i romani la successione testamentaria e la legittima. Il ius connubii
nel primitivo ius quiritium e l'ordinamento giuridico della famiglia romana. $
1. - Sguardo generale all'argomento. 400. Più volte fu osservato dagli autori,
che la famiglia romana nella realtà dei fatti si presenta con caratteri molto
diversi da quelli, che si potrebbero argomentare dall'ordinamento giuridico di
essa. Mentre, sotto il punto di vista giuridico, la famiglia costituisce come
un'aggregazione, retta dispoticamente dal proprio capo, nel quale si vengono ad
unificare le persone e le cose, che entrano a costituirla; nella realtà invece
essa då origine ad una comunione di tutte le utilità domestiche, in cui trovano
campo a svolgersi la pietà, l'os sequio e la reciproca confidenza. Mentre,
giuridicamente parlando, havvi un unico padrone nella casa: « pater familias in
domu do minium habet »; nella realtà invece anche la moglie e i figli ap
pariscono comproprietarii del patrimonio paterno: « vivo quoque parente,
quodammodo condomini existimantur ». Mentre infine, in base al diritto, il
padre ha perfino il ius vitae ac necis sulle persone tutte, che da lui
dipendono, nel costume invece la famiglia è sopratutto governata dal sentimento
profondo dei doveri famigliari, dalla religione, dalla morale e dal civile
costume (1 ). Di fronte ad una opposizione di questa natura fra la famiglia
quale appare nel diritto, e quale si presenta nel fatto, non è certo (1) Ho già
accennato a questo contrasto, fra la configurazione giuridica della fa miglia e
la realtà dei fatti, al nº 94, pag. 119. Del resto gli autori sembrano essere
concordi in rilevare questa speciale caratteristica della famiglia romana.
Basterà citare fra gli altri il Savigny, Sistema del diritto romano attuale, I,
&$ 54 e 55; il JHERING, L'esprit du droit romain, trad. Meulenaere, tomo
II, SS 36 e 37, e specialmente da pag. 190 a 214; il Gide, Étude sur la
condition privée de la femme, 2a ed., par Esmein, Paris 1885, cap. IV e V; il
Voigt, XII Tafeln, II, $ 92, pag. 241 a 256; il MUIRHEAD, Histor, introd., pag.
24 a 34; il Brixi, Matrimonio e di vorzio, Bologna, 1886, parte 1“, passim, e
specialmente ai SS 21 e 22, pag. 87 a 110. Tra le opere poi, che si occupano
della famiglia romana in genere, ricorderò lo SCHUPPER, La famiglia secondo il
diritto romano, vol. 1°, Padova 1876; e il CE NERI, Lezioni su temi del ius
familiae, Bologna, 1881.; 516 il caso di ritenere, che i Romani ci abbiano
trasmesso nel proprio diritto una immagine non conforme alla realtà dei fatti;
ma piut tosto deve credersi, che essi, anche in questa parte del proprio di
ritto, abbiano cercato di isolare l'elemento giuridico da tutti gli elementi
affini, con cui trovavasi intrecciato, e siano cosi riusciti ad una costruzione
giuridica, che fini per attribuire alla famiglia romana una rigidezza ben
maggiore di quella, che esisteva real mente nel costume. Quindi il vero
problema, che presentasi al ri guardo, sta nel ricostruire il processo storico
e logico ad un tempo, che può aver condotto i romani ad accogliere un
ordinamento giu ridico della famiglia, il quale, a giudizio degli stessi
giureconsulti, si differenziava grandemente da quello di tutti gli altri
popoli. 401. A questo proposito vuolsi anzitutto premettere, che l'ordi namento
famigliare dovette certamente essere la parte del diritto primitivo, in cui
trovavansi a maggior distanza le istituzioni già elaborate, proprie delle genti
patrizie, e le istituzioni appena ab bozzate, proprie della plebe. Ciò è provato
da quel divieto dei connubii fra il patriziato e la plebe, che si protrasse fin
dopo la legislazione decemvirale; dalle lotte accanite, a cui diede origine
l'abolizione di questo divieto per opera della legge Canuleia; ed anche dal
disprezzo ostentato dai patrizii per le unioni della plebe, come pure dal culto
di una pudicizia propria delle matrone patrizie, a cui si contrappose più tardi
una pudicizia plebea. Così stando le cose, era anche naturale, che in questa
parte le istituzioni dei due ordini dovessero riuscire più difficilmente a
fondersi e a mescolarsi fra di loro. Da una parte eravi la famiglia patriarcale
delle genti patrizie, la quale, unificata sotto la patria potestà del padre, e
stretta insieme dal vincolo dell'agnazione, era sopratutto intesa a perpetuare
la stirpe ed il suo culto, costituiva una vera corporazione religiosa, e
conduceva alla comunione delle cose divine ed umane; mentre dall'altra eravi la
famiglia della plebe, la quale, costituita dall'unione consensuale di un uomo e
di una donna, fatta palese dalla loro coabitazione, unita dai vincoli della
affinità e della cognazione, aveva piuttosto per iscopo la procreazione della
prole, e di soppor tare insieme i pesi del matrimonio (1). (1) Quanto
all'organizzazione domestica delle genti patrizie, vedi libro I, cap. 3', § 2º,
pag. 28 a 34; quanto a quella della plebe, lo stesso lib. I, cap. 9, pagina 188
e segg. - 517 Dei due ordinamenti però, il più forte, il più elaborato, il più
coerente in tutte le sue parti, era certamente quello delle genti patrizie;
quindi non è meraviglia, se essé in questa parte siansi ri fiutate a qualsiasi
transazione ed accordo, e siano così riuscite a dare un'assoluta prevalenza
alle proprie istituzioni domestiche. La plebe quindi, quanto all'ordinamento
della famiglia, dovette cercare in qualche modo di imitare l'organizzazione
delle famiglie patrizie; il che dovette riuscire più agevole, allorchè la plebe
primitiva venne ad essere accresciuta da un largo contingente di famiglie di
origine latina, la cui organizzazione doveva già essere analoga a quella
propria delle genti patrizie. 402. Ne consegui pertanto, che l'ordinamento
domestico, adottato dalla comunanza quiritaria, fu quello della famiglia
patriarcale propria delle genti patrizie, e che anche in questa parte i veteres
iuris conditores seguirono quel medesimo processo, a cui si erano attenuti
nelle altre parti del diritto quiritario. Essi cioè trapianta rono nella città
quell'organizzazione domestica, che già preesisteva nel periodo gentilizio; la
isolarono cosi da quell'ambiente patriar cale, in cui erasi formata, il quale
serviva a temperarne la rigi dezza; la riguardarono come organizzazione tipica
della famiglia quiritaria e presero a svolgerla logicamente in tutte le sue
parti. Siccome pertanto i concetti informatori della famiglia, nel periodo
gentilizio, si riducevano essenzialmente all'unificazione potente della
famiglia nella persona del proprio capo, ed alla tendenza della me desima a
perpetuarsi e a conservare il proprio patrimonio; cosi questi concetti vennero
in certo modo a costituire il capo saldo, da cui prese le mosse l'elaborazione
del diritto quiritario, e spinti a tutte le conseguenze, di cui potevano essere
capaci, condussero logi camente a quell'ordinamento della famiglia, che ci fu
trasmesso dal diritto civile romano. Fu in questa guisa, che ogni famiglia, nel
diritto primitivo di Roma, fini per costituire un gruppo di persone e di cose,
ordinato sotto il potere del proprio capo, e disgiunto per modo da ogni altro
gruppo, che una persona, uscendo da una famiglia, per entrare in un'altra,
cessava di avere qualsiasi rapporto giuridico colla prima. Così pure la forma
tipica del matrimonio quiritario dovette essere dapprima il solo matrimonio cum
manu; perchè solo la conventio in manu, collocando la moglie in posizione di
figlia, poteva con durre alla unificazione della famiglia nella persona del
proprio capo. 518 Accolta poi questa unificazione giuridica della famiglia
nella per sona del padre, ne derivava eziandio che il vincolo, il quale univa
imembri della famiglia, non poteva più essere quello della cogna zione,ma
doveva essere quello dell'agnazione; il quale aveva appunto la sua radice nel
potere spettante al capo di famiglia, ed era cosi una conseguenza diretta della
preponderanza dell'elemento paterno nell'organizzazione della famiglia. Se poi
tutti i membri, che costi tuiscono il gruppo, sotto il punto di vista giuridico,
appariscono unificati nel proprio capo, viene pure a conseguirne logicamente,
che tutto quello, che essi facciano od acquistino, debba in diritto ritenersi
fatto od acquistato per il medesimo. Cid infine ci spiega eziandio, come, nel
diritto primitivo romano, mentre i figli possono rappresentare il padre, ed i
servi il padrone, questa specie di rap presentazione non sia invece ammessa,
quando trattasi di persone, che appartengano ad un gruppo diverso. Così pure
sarà una con seguenza logica di questo ordinamento giuridico della famiglia,
che la persona, la quale, per adozione o per matrimonio, venga ad uscire da un
gruppo per entrare in un altro, sotto il punto di vista giuri dico, cessi di
esistere per la famiglia, da cui esce, e pigli nella fa miglia, in cui entra,
quel posto, che le sarebbe spettato, quando fosse nata nel medesimo (1 ). 403.
È poi degno di nota, che quest'organizzazione giuridica della famiglia
quiritaria, la cui elaborazione già erasi cominciata nella città esclusivamente
patrizia, ebbe occasione di svolgersi, anche più rigidamente, mediante
l'istituzione del censo serviano. Con questo infatti la famiglia venne ad
essere staccata affatto da quel l'ambiente patriarcale, che in parte aveva
ancora potuto mantenersi nel periodo della città patrizia, in quanto che ogni
cittadino venne ad essere censito, come capo di famiglia, e dovette come tale
denun ziare le persone e le cose, che da lui dipendevano, e ne costituivano in
certo modo il mancipium. Fu quindi sopratutto sotto l'influenza del censo
serviano, che i diritti del padre sulla moglie, sui figli, sui servi vennero in
certo modo ad essere modellati sul concetto rozzo, ma preciso del mio e del
tuo, il quale aveva anche il vantaggio di essere, più di qualsiasi altro,
suscettivo di una vera e propria ela (1) Il concetto di quest'unità potente
della famiglia è uno dei più radicati nella coscienza dei primitivi romani. Si
può averne una prova nei passi di antichi autori, citati dal Voigt, Op. cit.,
II, $ 72, pag. 6 e segg., a proposito della domus fami liaque, considerata come
un'unità organica di persone e di cose ad un tempo. -- -- 519 berazione
giuridica. L'epoca serviana pertanto dovette essere il mo mento storico, in cui
la famiglia quiritaria cominciò ad essere mo dellata esclusivamente sul
concetto di proprietà, cosicchè le forme dei negozii, proprie del commercium,
poterono essere applicate eziandio per acquistare i diritti derivanti dal
connubium. Per tal modo la logica del diritto quiritario potè essere applicata
in tutto il suo rigore anche all'ordinamento giuridico della famiglia, e venne
così ad uscirne quella struttura giuridica della medesima, in cui tutto sembra
ridursi ad una questione di mio e di tuo (1 ). Quando poi si promulgò la
legislazione decemvirale, questa con tinud l'opera già iniziata di estendere
anche alla plebe l'ordina mento giuridico della famiglia patriarcale. Essa
infatti riconobbe la coabitazione, non interrotta per un anno, come un mezzo,
che poteva servire alla plebe per attribuire alle proprie unioni il carattere
qui ritario, e rese comune eziandio alla plebe quel sistema di succes sione
legittima, che era proprio dell'organizzazione gentilizia. Infine allorchè la
legge Canuleia tolse il divieto del connubio fra i due or dini, tutto
l'ordinamento giuridico della famiglia patriarcale venne ad essere accolto nel
ius proprium civium romanorum, salve al cune poche modificazioni, che erano
imposte dalle condizioni, in cui si trovavano le infime classi della plebe (2).
Fu da questo momento, che la famiglia quiritaria venne a costi tuire una
costruzione giuridica, organica e coerente in tutte le sue parti, i cui caratteri
non potrebbero essere compresi, quando si di menticasse, che la medesima è un
rudere dell'organizzazione genti lizia, trapiantato nella città, e svolto
logicamente in tutte le con seguenze, di cui poteva essere capace. È certo che
un processo di questa natura doveva finire per at tribuire alla famiglia
quiritaria un carattere rigido e pressochè inumano, perchè escludeva
dall'ordinamento giuridico di essa ogni traccia di sentimento e di affetto; ma
il medesimo ebbe anche il (1) Come il censo serviano abbia contribuito ad
isolare la famiglia dall'ambiente gentilizio, e a far considerare ciascuna
famiglia, come un gruppo separato e distinto da tutte le altre, fu dimostrato
nel libro III, cap. 3 °, e in questo stesso libro, cap. 1 ° e 2°, § 1º. (2)
Così, ad esempio, la legge decemvirale, pur cercando di estendere anche alla
plebe il matrimonio cum manu, fu tuttavia nella necessità di aprire l'adito fin
d'allora al matrimonio sine manu, accordando alla donna di sottrarsi al vincolo
della manus, mediante l'usurpatio trinoctii, ossia l'interruzione della
coabitazione per tre notti di seguito. 520 vantaggio di isolare ciò, che havvi
di giuridico nella famiglia, da ogni elemento estraneo, e di sottoporre così
all'elaborazione giari dica una istituzione, in cui le considerazioni religiose
e morali avrebbero ad ogni istante impedito l'applicazionedella logica propria
del diritto (iuris ratio ). Si aggiunga, che questa apparenza, pressochè
inumana, non produsse in realtà alcun inconveniente, poichè essa punto non
impedi, che il costume temperasse il rigore della costru zione giuridica; che
il iudicium de moribus, dalle XII Tavole affi dato al pretore, impedisse al
padre la dilapidazione del patrimonio famigliare; che il censore, vindice della
morale, punisse in effetto il padre, che abusasse de' proprii poteri; e che
infine il diritto stesso intervenisse a moderare i poteri spettanti al capo di
famiglia, al lorchè, per il corrompersi dei costumi, cominciò a sentirsi il
pericolo, che egli potesse abusare dei medesimi. 404. Intanto una importante
conseguenza di questo svolgimento storico fu anche questa, che, siccome
nell'organizzazione gentilizia tutto l'ordinamento famigliare metteva capo al
concetto del con nubium, cosi anche tutto l'ordinamento giuridico della
famiglia qui ritaria sembra essere derivato da quest'unico concetto. Quel
connubium infatti, che nei rapporti fra le varie genti aveva significato quella
facoltà di imparentarsi, che di regola era circo scritta ai membri delle genti,
che appartenevano allo stesso nomen, trasportato nel diritto quiritario, venne
a trasformarsi nel ius con nubii ex iure quiritium, ossia nel diritto di
addivenire alle iustae nuptiae, riconosciute dai quiriti, e di dare così
origine ad una fa miglia, organizzata ex iure quiritium, con tutte le
conseguenze, che potevano derivarne (1). Quindi è, che anche la famiglia ex
iure (1) Io parlo ancora qui di una famiglia ex iure quiritium: ma, a scanso di
equi voci, devo far notare, che siccome l'organizzazione della famiglia romana
non venne ad essere comune ai due ordini del patriziato e della plebe, che dopo
la legislazione decemvirale e la legge Canaleia, così l'espressione, solitamente
adoperata da Gaio e da Ulpiano relativamente al ius familiae, non è più quella
di ius quiritium,ma bensì quella di ius proprium civium romanorum; poichè in
quell'epoca il concetto del quirite già si era allargato in quello del civis
romanus, e per conseguenza il ius quiritium si era in certo modo travasato nel
ius proprium civium romanorum. Di qui consegue che mentre, per quello che si
riferisce al ius commercü, i giurecon sulti parlano, ancora sempre del ius
quiritium (Gaio, II, 40), trattandosi invece della manus (Id., I, 108 ) e della
patria potestas (ID., I, 55 ), parlano invece di un ius proprium civium
romanorum. 521 – quiritium, al pari del dominium ex iure quiritium, venne a
costituire una famiglia privilegiata, che può giustamente chiamarsi propria
civium romanorum, in quanto essa ha certi caratteri, che la contraddistinguono
da ogni altra: quali sono la manus delmarito sulla moglie, la patria potestas
del padre sui figli, l'agnazione, che stringe i varii membri di essa e che
viene a costituire il fonda mento della tutela e della successione legittima.
Del resto il concetto, che tutti i diritti di famiglia discendono in sostanza
dal connubium, ha eziandio un fondamento nella realtà; perchè è col connubio
che viene a costituirsi una nuova famiglia, la quale poi si esplica nella
figliuolanza: il qual concetto, trovasi mi rabilmente espresso da Cicerone,
allorchè scrive: « prima societas in coniugio, proxima in liberis; deinde una
domus, communia omnia » (1). Diqui derivò la conseguenza, che la famiglia
quiritaria, pur essendo il frutto di una lunga e lenta elaborazione giuridica,
fini in sostanza per modellarsi sulla realtà dei fatti, e per cogliere, per
cosi esprimerci, l'essenza giuridica di essi. Essa quindi costi tuisce un tutto
organico e coerente in tutte le sue parti, il cui svol. gimento può appunto
essere studiato, nei tre momenti essenziali, per cui passa l'organismo
famigliare, cioè: lº nella sua origine, ossia nella iustae nuptiae e negli
effetti giuridici che derivano da esse; 2 ° nel suo svolgimento, ossia nei
rapporti fra il capo di fami glia e le persone che ne dipendono; 3º e da ultimo
nel suo disciogliersi per la morte del proprio capo, scioglimento che dà
occasione alla successione ed alla tutela legittima, fondate sul vincolo
dell’agnazione. 405. Siccome poi in questa parte il diritto delle genti
patrizie riuscì a penetrare, pressochè intatto nel diritto civile romano, e ad
imporre a tutti i cittadini una organizzazione domestica, che era propria
soltanto di una minoranza, e che per giunta era una so pravvivenza di un
periodo anteriore di convivenza sociale; cosi, in tema di diritto famigliare,
venne a farsi manifesto,meglio che altrove, il conflitto fra le istituzioni,
che riuscirono a penetrare nel diritto quiritario, e quelle invece, che
continuarono a vivere nel costume. Questo conflitto, che può scorgersi in ogni
parte del diritto fami gliare, è sopratutto evidente nella lotta fra il
matrimonio cum manu (1) Cic., De officiis, I, 17, 54. 522 e quello sine manu;
in quella fra l'agnazione e la cognazione; e in quella fra la successione e
tutela legittima e la successione e tutela testamentaria; e più tardi anche
nella lotta fra l'hereditas e la bonorum possessio. Sono queste lotte, che
danno interesse allo svolgimento storico delle istituzioni famigliari, spiegano
le modifica zioni lente e graduate che si introdussero nelle medesime, e dimo
strano come anche in questa parte, alla parte del diritto già formato e
consolidato, se ne contrapponga costantemente un'altra, che tro vasi in via di
formazione, e che tenta di temperare il rigore delle primitive istituzioni
quiritarie. § 2. – Le iustae nuptiae e la storia primitiva del matrimonio
quiritario. 406. Anche nella parte, che si riferisce al matrimonio romano, gli
ultimi studii conducono al risultato, che il medesimo, al pari della proprietà
e del negozio giuridico, dovette incominciare da un concetto tipico, che è
quello del matrimonio cum manu. Non è già che in Roma primitiva non potessero
esistere altre forme più umili di matrimonio, sopratutto nelle costumanze della
plebe; ma il ius quiritium non si curò dapprima delle medesime, e non riconobbe
gli effetti quiritarii, che al matrimonio cum manu (1). Che anzi vi sono forti
indizii per supporre, che l'unica forma solenne, per contrarre il matrimonio
quiritario, stata riconosciuta finchè duro la città esclusivamente patrizia, fu
quella accompagnata dalla cerimonia re ligiosa della confarreatio, la quale
importava fra i coniugi la comunione delle cose divine ed umane. Cid sarebbe in
parte (1) Questa è la conseguenza, a cui giunse fra gli altri l'Esmein, nel suo
scritto: La manus, la paternité et le divorce dans l'ancien droit romain, nei «
Mélanges d'histoire du droit », Paris 1886, pag. 6. Una prova poi di
quest'antico diritto l'abbiamo in questo, che la moglie, in questo primo
periodo, chiamavasi materfami lias, e tale nell'antico diritto era soltanto la
moglie, quae in manu 'convenerat. Sono testuali in proposito le affermazioni di
CICERONE, Top. 3, il quale scrive: « genus est enim wor; eius duae formae: una
matrumfamilias, earum quae in manum convenerunt, altera earum, quae tantummodo
uxores habentur ». La cosa poi è confermata da Gellio, XVIII, 6, 9, ove dice: «
matremfamilias appellatam eam solam, quae in maritimanu mancipioque erat », e
da Nonio MARCELLO nel passo riportato dal BRUNS, Fontes, pag. 390. Sopratutto è
degno di nota, che l'espres sione di materfamilias è pur quella adoperata nella
formola dell'adrogatio, conser vataci dallo stesso Gellio, V, 19, 9. Cfr. in
proposito KARLOWA, Formen den rö mischen Ehe und manus, pag. 71, e il Brini,
Op. cit., pag. 37. 523 comprovato dalla circostanza, che le leggi regie,
ogniqualvolta ac cennano al matrimonio, si riferiscono in modo espresso al
matri monio per confarreationem. Così, per esempio, Dionisio attribuisce a
Romolo di aver richiamato alla pudicizia le donne romane, rico noscendo questa
sola forma di matrimonio, e parla anche di una legge attribuita a Numa, con cui
sarebbesi stabilito, che il figlio, il quale fosse addivenuto alle nozze
confarreate col consenso del ge nitore, non potesse più essere venduto dal
medesimo (1). Tutto ciò significa, che le genti patrizie, fondatrici della
città, presero senz'altro le mosse da una forma di matrimonio, che pree •
sisteva nel periodo gentilizio, e che il loro matrimonio continud nella città a
celebrarsi con una certa solennità religiosa e patriarcale; come lo dimostrano
l'intervento del pontefice e del flamine di Giove, la cerimonia simbolica per
cui i coniugi gustano insieme il pane di farro, ed anche la presenza dei dieci
testimonii, in cui si vollero ravvisare i rappresentanti delle curie, in cui
dividevasi la tribù, a cui appartenevano gli sposi. Non pud poi esservi dubbio
intorno al l'altissimo concetto, che queste genti patrizie avevano del
matrimonio, il quale, oltre all'essere strettamente monogamo, importava
l'unione perpetua de' coniugi, e la comunione fra essi delle cose divine ed
umane (divini et humani iuris comunicatio). Che anzi, a questo proposito,
sembra pure essere probabile, che questa forma primitiva di matrimonio non
potesse dapprima dar luogo al divortium, ma soltanto al repudium, il quale
doveva essere accompagnato dalla cerimonia religiosa della diffarreatio, e
poteva solo aver luogo nei casi, che erano determinati dal costume e dalla
legge (2). Cosi pure è a questo primitivo concetto del matrimonio presso le
genti pa trizie, che deve rannodarsi quel disprezzo per la donna che passi a
seconde nozze, di cui trovansi ancora le traccie nel diritto poste riore di
Roma (3 ). Ad ogni modo egli è certo, che questa forma di matrimonio, in (1)
Dion., II, 25 e 27. V. sopra lib. II, nº 268, pag. 329 e seg. (2) Cid sarebbe
attestato da PLUTARCO, nella Vita di Romolo, 22, in un passo, che è riportato
dal Bruns, Fontes, pag. 6. Una prova poi, che il matrimonio per confar
reationem doveva durare tutta la vita, si rinvien lle attestazioni di Gellio, X,
15, 23, e di Festo, vº Flammeo, dalle quali risulta, che alla moglie del
flamine di Giove, le cui nuptiae farreatae erano un ricordo del matrimonio
primitivo, non era consentito il divorzio. Cfr. Esmein, Op. cit., pag. 17. (3)
È a consultarsi in proposito il dotto lavoro del DELVECCHIO, Le seconde noeze
del coniuge superstite, Firenze 1885, pag. 12 a 15. 524 cui apparisce quel
carattere eminentemente religioso, che è proprio delle genti patrizie, non
poteva appartenere alla plebe. Per questa il matrimonio dovette avere più
un'esistenza di fatto, che una con. sacrazione di diritto, e consistere in una
unione fondata sul reci proco consenso, fatta manifesta mediante la
coabitazione dei coniugi, piuttosto che con cerimonie di carattere giuridico e
religioso ad un tempo. 407. Era frammezzo a queste due istituzioni, di
carattere compiu tamente diverso, di cui una era forse importata dall'antico
Oriente, mentre l'altra si ispirava alle tendenze spontanee dell'umana natura,
che dovette formarsi un diritto comune alle due classi. Questo fu il problema,
che dovette risolvere la legislazione decemvirale, e la cui difficoltà era
tanto più grande, in quanto è probabile, che le classi più infime della plebe
stentassero a comprendere un matri monio, come quello cum manu, che costituiva
la moglie in condi zione di figlia del proprio marito. Questo potere del
marito, il quale, corretto dal patriarcale costume, conduceva all'unificazione
della fa miglia patrizia, poteva invece cambiarsi in un dispotismo pericoloso,
allorchè fosse esteso a classi sociali, che non vi fossero preparate da una
lunga educazione civile. È questa speciale condizione di cose, che spiega i
singolari tem peramenti, che a questo proposito furono adottati dalla
legislazione decemvirale. In questa infatti i decemviri, mentre da una parte si
studiano di fornire alla plebe un facile mezzo per addivenire allo acquisto
della manus, e di dar cosi carattere giuridico al proprio matrimonio, collo
stabilire che basti perciò la coabitazione di un anno (usus), dall'altra si
trovano nella necessità di aprire l'adito ad un matrimonio sine manu,
accordando alla donna il mezzo di sottrarsi alla manus, coll'interrompere la
coabitazione per tre notti di seguito (trinoctium ) (1). 408. Colla
legislazione decemvirale non sembra essersi andato più oltre nella elaborazione
di un diritto comune ai due ordini; poiché (1) In base all'attestazione di
Gaio, I, 111, l'usus, qual mezzo di acquisto della manus, non fu che
un'applicazione della teoria dell'usucapione: la donna poi, che avesse voluto
sottrarvisi, doveva ogni anno interrompere la coabitazione per tre notti di
seguito. Questa parte della legge sarebbe dal Voigt, XII Tafeln, I, pag. 708,
assegnata al n° 1', tav. IV, e ricostrutta nei seguenti termini: « si qua
nollet in manu mariti convenire, quotannis trinoctio usum interficito ». - 525
sussisteva ancora il divieto dei connubii fra il patriziato e la plebe. Quando
invece il divieto fu tolto dalla legge Canuleia, si dovette sentire la
necessità di introdurre un modo essenzialmente quiritario per l'acquisto della
manus, che poteva essere comune al patriziato ed alla plebe. Fu allora, che si
ebbe ricorso a quell'atto per aes et libram, che era la forma solenne propria
del negozio quiritario, e si diede cosi origine alla coemptio, quale modo di
acquistare la manus (1). Non potrei quindi ammettere l'opinione, che considera
la coemptio, come la forma essenzialmente plebea del matrimonio cum manu, e
neppur quella, che ravvisa nella medesima una compra della moglie per parte del
marito. La coemptio in Roma non fu che un'applicazione dell'atto quiritario per
eccellenza, che era l'atto per aes et libram, e venne cosi ad essere un
espediente giuridico per esprimere l'acquisto di quel potere del marito sulla
moglie, che nel ius quiritium era indicato col vocabolo generico di manus (2 ).
(1) La questione della precedenza dei varii modi riconosciuti dal diritto
romano per l'acquisto della manus fu assai discussa in questi ultimi tempi.
Secondo il Mac LENNAN, Primitive marriage, 2me édit., 1876, pag. 71,avrebbe
preceduto l'usus, poscia sarebbesi introdotta la coemptio, e da ultimo sarebbe
venuta la confarreatio. Anche secondo il BERNHÖFT, Staat und Recht der
römischen Konigszeit, 1882, pag. 187, l'usus sarebbe più antico della coemptio:
mentre invece quest'ultima, secondo il Karlowa, Formen der römischen Ehe und
manus, pag. 59, avrebbe avuta la precedenza sull'usus. Per risolvere la
questione conviene bene intenderci. O si vuol fare la storia dei modi di
contrarre il matrimonio presso le primitive genti italiche, e in allora non
ripugna, che anche presso le medesime la moglie sia stata prima rapita e poscia
comprata; o si vuol invece determinare l'ordine, in cui queste varie forme
penetrarono nel diritto romano, e in allora, pur ammettendo, che i vocaboli del
primitivo diritto romano possano ancora richiamare uno stato ante riore di
cose, si può però affermare con certezza, che le varie forme di matrimonio,
adottate dal diritto romano, sono già il frutto di una vera e propria
elaborazione giuridica. Quanto all'ordine cronologico, con cui queste varie
forme furono accolte, esso non potè essere che il seguente, cioè dapprima fa
accolta nel ius proprium civium romanorum la confarreatio dei patres o patricii;
poscia fu riconosciuto l'usus di un anno per dar carattere giuridico alle
unioni della plebe; da ultimo, quando si comunicarono i connubii, comparve
anche la coemptio, la quale fu comune ai due ordini, e come tale finì per avere
la prevalenza su tutti gli altri modi di acquistare la manus. Cfr. ESMEIN, Op.
cit., pag. 8 e 9. (2) Non posso quindi accogliere l'opinione sostenuta da molti
autori, che la coemptio fosse di origine plebea, e che essa implicasse la
compra della moglie per parte del marito. Cfr. SCHUPFER, La famiglia nel
diritto romano; Voigt, XII, Tafeln, II, $ 159; BRINI, Matrimonio e divorzio,
pag. 50 e segg. La coemptio non fu invece, che una nuova applicazione dell'atto
per aes et libram, e perciò deve ritenersi come una creazione del diritto
quiritario, nell'intento di attri 526 Essa quindi, al pari di ogni atto quiritario,
componevasi di due parti, cioè: lº dell'atto per aes et libram, compiuto colle
solite formalità ed inteso ad esprimere l'acquisto della manus per parte del
marito; 20 e della nuncupatio solenne, le cui parole non ci sono perve nute, ma
la cui sostanza, secondo Servio e Boezio, consisteva in una reciproca
interrogazione, con cui lo sposo interrogava la sposa se volesse assumere a suo
riguardo la qualità di madre di famiglia, e questa interrogava lo sposo se
volesse assumere quella di padre di famiglia. Ciò intanto ci spiega, come la
coemptio, sotto un aspetto, abbia potuto essere descritta da Gaio come una
compra fittizia della moglie per parte del marito, e sotto un altro invece
colla sua stessa denominazione sembri indicare il reciproco consenso degli
sposi nel riconoscersi rispettivamente la qualità di padre e di madre di
famiglia (invicem se coemebant) (1). È poi probabile, che, come il vocabolo di
coemptio è certamente modellato su quello di confarreatio, cosi anche le parole
solenni, che accompagnavano la coemptio, fossero una imitazione di quelle, che
erano adoperate nella confarreatio, esclusi però i riti religiosi, che
accompagnavano quest'ultima. 409. Questo svolgimento storico deimodi,
riconosciuti dal diritto quiritario, per contrarre il matrimonio cum manu,
lascia abbastanza buire la manus al marito, e di attribuire carattere giuridico
al matrimonio romano. In esso quindi è già scomparsa qualsiasi idea di vendita
della figlia, sebbene non sia improbabile, che il vocabolo possa ancora
ricordare un' epoca anteriore, in cui la moglie fosse effettivamente comprata.
Cfr. MUIRHEAD, Op. cit., pag. 65, e sopratutto l'appendice sulla coemptio in
fine al volume, nota B, pag. 441. (1) Che l'essenza della coemptio fosse per
dir così simboleggiata in un reciproco acquisto, che facevano i due sposi, non
è solo comprovato dal vocabolo, ma è atte stato da Servio, in Aen., IV, 103
(Bruns, pag.402), allorchè dice: « Mulier atque vir inter se quasi coemptionem
faciunt; da Nonio MARCELLO, vº nubentes (Bruns, pag. 370); da Isidoro, Orig., $
24, 26 (Bruns, pag. 407); e sopratutto da Boazio nei commenti alla Top. di
Cic., dove, appoggiandosi all'autorità di Ulpiano, dice che il marito e la
moglie « sese in coemendo invicem interrogabant » (BRUNS, pag. 399). Solo
farebbe eccezione Gaio, I, 113, il quale dice, che nell'atto per aes et libram
« is emit mulierem, cuius in manum convenit »; ma la cosa si comprende, quando
si tenga conto che la coemptio componevasi di due parti, e quindi se nel l'atto
per aes et libram doveva certo figurare come compratore il marito, che acqui
stava la manus, nulla impedisce, che nella nuncupatio gli sposi apparissero
uguali, e reciprocamente si interrogassero se volessero assumere
rispettivamente fra di loro la qualità di pater e di materfamilias, V. in senso
contrario BRINI, Op. cit., pag. 51 e segg. 527 scorgere il contributo diverso,
che vi arrecarono il patriziato e la plebe. Non vi ha dubbio anzitutto, che la
confarreatio dovette essere di origine patrizia, come lo dimostrano il suo
carattere eminente mente religioso, e l'origine di essa, che rimonta ad
un'epoca ante riore all'ammessione della plebe alla cittadinanza romana. Che
anzi, egli è probabile, che, anche dopo, la confarreatio abbia continuato ad
essere usata di preferenza dalle genti originariamente patrizie, come lo
dimostra il fatto, che essa continud a sussistere anche sotto gli imperatori,
sopratutto per considerazioni di carattere religioso. Noi sappiamo infatti, che
i figli nati da tale matrimonio conserva rono più tardi certi privilegii
religiosi, che convengono assai bene ai discendenti dell'antico patriziato.
Essi soli infatti erano ammessi a certi sacerdozii; soli potevano figurare in
certe cerimonie reli giose, ed erano anche indicati coi nomi speciali di
patrimi e di matrimi. Così pure il matrimonio per confarreationem era il solo,
a cui potessero addivenire i flamini di Giove, di Marte e di Qui rino, i quali
negli inizii dovevano appartenere all'ordine patrizio (1). Per contro può
affermarsi con una certa probabilità, che l'usus, ossia la coabitazione non
interrotta per un anno, qual mezzo per fare acquistare la manus, non potè
essere che un mezzo per tras formare i matrimonii di fatto, proprii della plebe,
in matrimonii di diritto, che come tali erano produttivi della manus. Ciò
spiega come l'usus, quanto aimatrimonii, abbia potuto produrre lo stesso
effetto dell'usucapio, quanto all'acquisto della proprietà ex iure quiritium, e
come i decemviri abbiano applicato la stessa regola in argomenti, che pur erano
cosi compiutamente diversi (2 ). Da ultimo la coemptio vuol essere considerata
come il modo di contrarre il matrimonio cum manu, essenzialmente proprio dei
quiriti, e come tale dovette essere introdotto, quando già erano permessi i
connubii fra patrizii e plebei, cosicchè essa, fin dalle sue origini, dovette
essere comune agli uni ed agli altri. Noi troviamo (1) Gaio, I, 112. Nel passo
già citato di Boezio, in cui egli parla delle varie forme di matrimonio,
fondandosi sull'autorità di Ulpiano (Bruns, pag. 399), si dice espressamente
che « confarreatio solis pontificibus conveniebat ». Cfr. Esmein, Op. cit., pag.
7, nota 1. (2) La ragione fu questa, che tanto l'usucapio, applicata alle cose,
quanto l'usus, qual mezzo per acquistare la manus, si proposero il
medesimo'intento, quello cioè di cambiare una posizione di fatto in una
posizione di diritto. 528 infatti, che la coemptio viene ad essere la forma
dimatrimonio, che incontra maggior favore presso le varie classi dei cittadini;
cosicchè, nei rapporti di famiglia, essa sembra compiere quella funzione
stessa, che compie la mancipatio nel trasferimento della proprietà quiritaria.
Quindi al modo stesso, che accanto alla mancipatio effettiva abbiamo visto
svolgersi la mancipatio cum fiducia, così accanto alla coemptio effettiva, che
sottoponeva la moglie alla manus del marito, vediamo pure svolgersi quel
singolare istituto della coemptio fiduciaria, la quale serve come espediente
per sottrarre la donna alla tutela degli agnati, e per metterla in condizione
di poter fare testamento (1). Intanto perd la coemptio dovette avere per
effetto di attribuire un carattere essenzialmente civile almatrimonio, che
nella confar reatio aveva un carattere eminentemente religioso. Quindi viene ad
essere probabile, che colla introduzione di essa anche il matrimonio cum manu
abbia cominciato ad essere suscettivo del divorzio, il che non sarebbe
consentaneo col carattere religioso della confarreatio. Nella coemptio infatti
la manus viene ad essere l'effetto di un con tratto, e perciò può essere
risolta nel modo stesso, in cui ebbe ad essere acquistata, cioè mediante la
remancipatio (2 ). 410. Intanto il carattere e l'origine diversa dei varii modi
per contrarre il matrimonio cum manu, pud anche spiegare le sorti (1) GAIO, I,
114 a 116. (2) GAIO, I, 115 e 137. Se siammette che il matrimonio primitivo per
confarreatio nem non consentisse il divorzio, è un grave problema quello di
spiegare, come il mede simo abbia potuto essere introdotto anche nel matrimonio
cum manu, e persino essere esteso al matrimonio per confarreationem, il quale
doveva però ancor sempre essere accompagnato dalla diffarreatio. V. Festus, pº
diffarreatio; Bruns, pag. 336. Alcuni ritengono, che il divortium abbia cominciato
a svolgersi nel matrimonio sine manu, e poi da questo siasi anche esteso a
quello cum manu (Cfr. Esmein, Op. cit., pag. 23 e segg.); ma non parmi
probabile un'imitazione di questa natura. Piuttosto il cambiamento venne a
farsi, allorchè, accanto al matrimonio religioso per confar reationem, venne a
svolgersi il matrimonio civile per coemptionem. Fa in quella occasione, che al
rito religioso sottentrò l'idea del contratto, la quale rese applica bile il
divortium, anche al matrimonio cum manu. L'applicabilità poi di questo
divortium anche al matrimonio cum manu, e precisamente a quello contratto per
coemptionem, parmi che non possa essere posta in dubbio di fronte al passo di
Gaio,. I, 137, ove, paragonando la moglie ad una figlia di famiglia, dopo aver
detto che la figlia non può costringere il padre ad emanciparla, aggiunge
quanto alla moglie: « haec autem (virum ), repudio misso, proinde compellere
potest, atque si ei nun quam nupta fuisset ». 529 diyerse, che ciascuno di essi
ebbe nell'ulteriore svolgimento del diritto civile romano. Noi sappiamo
infatti, che l'usus, fra i modi di acquistare la manus, fu il primo a
scomparire, poichè secondo Gaio « hoc ius partim legibus sublatum est, partim
ipsa desuetudine obliteratum est» (1). Esso infatti era stato un espediente per
dar carattere quiritario ai matrimonii della plebe, che prima non l'avevano, e
quindi si com prende che le leggi e il costume tendessero ad abolirlo,
allorchè, mediante la coemptio, anche la plebe venne ad avere un mezzo di retto
per acquistare la manus. La confarreatio invece, colla introduzione della
coemptio, venne ad essere più circoscritta nel proprio uso, ma intanto fu
quella, che ebbe a perdurare più lungamente; provenisse ciò dalla tenacità con
servatrice, che era propria delle genti patrizie, o da considerazioni di
carattere religioso. Questo è certo, che Gaio parla della confar reatio, come
di cerimonia che era in uso ancora ai suoi tempi; poichè i flamini maggiori e
il rex sacrorum dovevano esser nati da nozze confarreate, e non potevano
contrarre altrimenti il proprio matrimonio. Noi sappiamo tuttavia da Tacito,
che il mantenere questa antica tradizione ebbe talvolta a dar luogo a
difficoltà, per trovare le persone, che potessero essere elevate alla dignità
di fla mini, il che sarebbe appunto accaduto al tempo di Tiberio, e che le
matrone ottennero in quell'occasione dal senato, che il matri monio per
confarreationem non dovesse più produrre gli effetti di un tempo, sopratutto
quanto ai diritti del marito sui beni della moglie (2 ) Infine la coemptio
diventò senz'alcun dubbio il modo più frequente per contrarre il matrimonio cum
manu, e non scomparve che cessare di questa forma di matrimonio; cessazione,
che venne ope randosi verso il finire dell'epoca repubblicana, più nel costume
che per opera di legge, stante la prevalenza sempre maggiore, che venne
acquistando il matrimonio sine manu (3 ). (1) Gaio, I, 111. (2 ) GAIO, I, 36;
Tacito, Ann. IV, 6. (3 ) La laudatio Thuriae scritta dal marito, Q. Lucrezio
Vespillone, console nel 735 di Roma, riportata dal BRUNS, pag. 303 e seg.,
dimostra che verso il finire della Repubblica il matrimonio sine manu già
cominciava a praticarsi anche nelle grandi famiglie. Tuttavia il fare un elogio
speciale di Turia per aver fatto a meno della conventio in manu, a differenza
della sua sorella, e per avere, malgrado di ciò, lasciato il suo patrimonio
all'amministrazione del marito, dimostra che un fatto (Un autore recente, il
Bernhöft, ebbe a considerare l'esten dersi e il prevalere del matrimonio sine
manu, come un segno di decadenza del primitivo costume di Roma (1 ). A me
parrebbe invece, che questa importantissima trasformazione dell'ordinamento
giuridico della famiglia romana, debba essere considerata come una conse guenza
necessaria dello svolgimento della vita cittadina, che veniva a poco a poco
cancellando le vestigia dell'anteriore organizzazione patriarcale. È ovvio
infatti lo scorgere, che la manus, mentre era una istituzione confacente
all'organizzazione gentilizia, perchè da una parte serviva ad unificare la
famiglia, e dall'altra era temperata dal patriarcale costume, trapiantata
invece nella città, ove le famiglie vivevano isolate le une dalle altre, poteva
essere sorgente di gravi pericoli, sopratutto nelle infime classi della plebe,
poichè lasciava la moglie priva di qualsiasi difesa, contro il potere dispotico
del proprio marito. Fu questo il motivo, per cui i decemviri, i quali pur
miravano, come si è veduto, ad estendere a tutte le classi dei cittadini l'or.
ganizzazione patriarcale della famiglia patrizia, si trovarono tuttavia nella
necessità di lasciar l'adito aperto ad un matrimonio sine manu, dando alle
donne il singolare diritto di interrompere l'usus, collo assentarsi dalla casa
maritale per tre notti di seguito. Fu poi una conseguenza di questo
provvedimento, che in ogni tempo in Roma, accanto al vero matrimonio ex iure
quiritium, venne ad esistere di fatto un matrimonio sine manu, che non
producera le conse guenze rigide del matrimonio cum manu. Il diritto civile non
si preoccupo dapprima di questa forma più umile di matrimonio, e quindi esso si
limitò a svolgersi come un matrimonio di fatto, di fronte al vero matrimonio ex
iure quiritium, che era il matri monio cum manu. Giunse però un tempo, in cui
lo svolgersi della vita cittadina finì per rendere grave il vincolo della
manus, anche per le donne, che appartenevano alle classi sociali più elevate, e
fu in allora che il matrimonio sine manu cominciò ad entrare nella pratica
comune, e dovette essere preso in considerazione anche dal diritto proprio dei
quiriti. Tutto ciò però accadde lentamente e gra datamente, per modo che lo svolgimento
del matrimonio sinemanu, simile costituiva ancora a quei tempi una eccezione
degna di nota nelle famiglie di condizione elevata. Cfr. De-Rossi, L'elogio
funebre di Turia, negli « Studii e do cumenti di storia e diritto ». Roma, 1880,
pag. 17. (1) BERNHöft, Op. cit., pag. 179. Cfr. Voigt, XII Tafeln, di fronte a
quello cum manu, presenta una singolare analogia collo svolgersi della
proprietà in bonis, di fronte alla proprietà ex iure quiritium. Quindi al modo
stesso, che la proprietà in bonis:i venne a poco a poco modellando su quella ex
iure quiritium, così anche il matrimonio sine manu venne delineandosi
lentamente sulmodello del matrimonio cum manu, per modo che esso fini per
assorbire ed assimilare in se medesimo il concetto etico, che ispirava il primitivo
matrimonio delle genti patrizie, che era il matrimonio cum manu. Quindi è, che
nel matrimonio sine manu scompariscono bensì le 80 lennità dirette all'acquisto
della manus, ma si mantiene la neces sità della deductio della sposa in domum
mariti, quasi ad indicare che essa abbandona la casa del padre per entrare in
quella del marito, la quale continua sempre a considerarsi come il domicilium
matrimonii. Così pure anche nel matrimonio sinemanu si trasfonde il concetto
altissimo del matrimonio cum manu, come lo dimostrano la maritalis affectio, e
la perpetua vitae consuetudo, di cui parlano i giureconsulti classici nella
definizione del matrimonio, al lorchè era già scomparsa la manus (1). 412. Cid
pero non impedisce, che dalla sostituzione delmatrimonio sine manu a quello cum
manu, siano derivati degli importantissimi effetti nell'ordinamento giuridico
della famiglia romana, che possono essere cosi riassunti: lº Accanto al
concetto della materfamilias, che era in certo modo assorbita nella personalità
del capo di famiglia, viene a deli nearsi la figura dell'uxor, la quale, senza
essere uguale al marito (vir ), comincia però già ad avere una propria
personalità giuridica, distinta da quella del marito; 2 ° La pratica del
divorzio viene ad essere più facile, poichè, più non essendovi l'acquisto della
manus, più non si dovette richie (1) Credo che questa analogia fra il processo
seguito dai Romani nello svolgere il diritto di famiglia e quello di proprietà
non apparirà come puramente fantastica, quando si tenga conto della
correlazione evidente fra il concetto dei matrimonii cum manu e sine manu coi
concetti del mancipium e del nec mancipium, e più tardi con quelli del dominium
ex iure quiritium e di quello in bonis; fra la fun zione, che compie la
mancipatio, in tema di proprietà, e quella che compie la coemptio, in tema
dimatrimonio; tra la mancipatio cum fiducia e la coemptio fidu ciae causa; e
infine la correlazione anche più singolare fra l'usus auctoritas, appli cato
all'acquisto dei fondi, e l'usus, applicato all'acquisto della manus sulla
moglie. 532 - dere per il divorzio, nè la diffarreatio, nè la remancipatio, ma
poté bastare il reciproco consenso del marito e della moglie; 3° Sopratutto poi
ebbe ad avverarsi un grave cambiamento nella posizione economica della moglie
di fronte al marito. Senza affermare infatti, che l'istituto della dote sia
veramente sorto col matrimonio sine manu, questo è certo, che la dote, qual
concorso della moglie a sostenere i pesi del matrimonio, non potè svolgersi che
col matrimonio sine manu; poichè un simile concorso non avrebbe potuto
avverarsi di fronte a quell'unificazione potente, che veniva ad essere
l'effetto della manus. Cid intanto ci spiega, come la dote, anche col
matrimonio sine manu, abbia cominciato dal di ventare proprietà del marito, e
siansi richieste stipulazioni speciali, perchè esso o i suoi eredi fossero
tenuti a restituirla (1). Non potrei invece ammettere, che il matrimonio sine
manu debba considerarsi come una causa della decadenza della corruzione del
costume romano. Basta perciò osservare, che il matrimonio sine manu, quale ebbe
ad esser concepito dai romani, poteva condurre ad un ideale più elevato dello
stesso matrimonio cum manu. In questo infatti l'unità della famiglia veniva ad
essere imposta dalla legge, mentre nel matrimonio libero la comunione delle
cose divine ed umane veniva ad essere il frutto del libero accordo e della con
fidenza reciproca (2). Non fu quindi il matrimonio sine manu, che O per (1 )
Sonovi autori, che vorrebbero rannodare l'origine dell'istituto della dote al
matrimonio sine manu, V. fra gli altri PADELLETTI, Op. cit., pagg. 172-73, e il
Cogliolo, Saggi di evoluzione, pag. 33. A questo proposito conviene intenderci.
O per dote si intende cid che la moglie o il padre di lei consegna al marito in
occa sione del matrimonio, e la dote in questo senso dovette rimontare anche
all'epoca del matrimonio cum manu, come lo dimostra l'esistenza di
un'antichissima dotis dictio e di un'actio dictae dotis. Cfr. Voigt, XII Tafeln,
II, pag. 486. dote si intende invece l'istituto già svolto, per modo che essa
venga ad apparire come il concorso della moglie a sostenere i pesi del
matrimonio ed attribuisca alla moglie una personalità distinta da quella del
marito, e questa non potè svolgersi col ma trimonio sine manu, perchè in quello
cum manu lo svolgimento dell'istituto era impedito dall'unificazione potente
della famiglia e del suo patrimonio nella persona del proprio capo. Intanto ciò
spiega la necessità di apposite stipulazioni, per la resti tuzione della dote,
intorno alle quali è da vedersi GELLIO, IV, 3, il quale dice, che la
opportunità di esse avrebbe cominciato a sentirsi dopo il divorzio di Spurio
Carvilio Ruga, seguito nel 523 dalla fondazione di Roma. (2 ) Cfr. in proposito
quanto scrive il Labbé nell'articolo intitolato: Du mariage romain et de la
manus, nella « Nouvelle Revue historique »
corruppe il costume, ma fu piuttosto il costume che abbassò l'altis.
simo concetto del matrimonio. $ 3. — Il pater familias e i poteri al medesimo
spettanti. 413. Fermo il concetto, che in Roma primitiva la famiglia, sotto il
punto di vista giuridico, costituisce un tutto organico, separato da ogni altro
ed ordinato sotto il potere del proprio capo, sarà facile il comprendere come
la logica quiritaria non scorgesse nella mede sima che un capo, il quale
comanda, ed un complesso di persone, le quali debbono obbedire. Da una parte
havvi il pater familias, che è l'unica personalità giuridica riconosciuta dal
primitivo ius qui ritium: dall'altra sonvi le persone, che dipendono da esso,
cioè la moglie, i figli ed i servi, che in antico dovettero tutte essere sot
toposte alla medesima manus, e furono perfino indicate col vocabolo generico e
comprensivo di familia od anche dimancipium. Il padre è quegli, che è padrone
nella casa, che figura nel censo colle persone e cose che da lui dipendono, che
risponde di tutti i suoi dipendenti di fronte alla comunanza quiritaria; perciò
i diritti, che a lui spet tano sulle persone componenti la famiglia, sono
modellati in tutto e per tutto su quelli, che a lui appartengono sul patrimonio
della medesima. Ciò tuttavia non deve essere considerato come un indizio, che i
romani confondessero il potere sulle persone col potere sulle cose; ma soltanto
che essi, nel modellare la costruzione giuridica della famiglia, si collocarono
al punto di vista del mio e del tuo, e una volta accolto il medesimo lo
spinsero a tutte le conseguenze, di cui poteva essere capace. Intanto se nella
concezione primitiva era unico il potere spettante al capo di famiglia sulla
moglie, sui figli e sui servi, viene pure ad essere probabile, che questo
potere sia stato indicato con un unico vocabolo, il quale con tutta
verosimiglianza dovette essere quello di manus, la quale designava in genere la
potestà giuridica spet tante al quirite (1). Fu poi nell'elaborazione
ulteriore, che in questo (1) L'autore, che ha recato incontestabilmente il
maggior numero di prove per dimostrare, che il vocabolo di manus indicò in
genere la potestà giuridica, spettante al capo di famiglia, è certamente il
Voigt, Op. cit., II, SS 79 e 80. Cid però non toglie che il vocabolo di manus,
pur indicando in senso largo la potestà spettante anche sulle cose, designasse
in modo più specifico il potere sulle persone, e fosse così pres sochè un
sinonimo di potestas. 534 concetto sintetico e comprensivo cominciò ad apparire
una prima distinzione, per cui mentre il vocabolo di manus, pur conservando in
qualche caso la sua significazione generica, fini per indicare più specialmente
il potere del marito sulla moglie, quello invece di po testas indico di
preferenza il potere del padre sui figli e sui servi, e venne cosi a
distinguersi in patria ed in dominica potestas. Quanto al vocabolo mancipium,
esso non scomparve, ma fini per restringersi ad indicare il complesso delle
cose spettanti al capo di famiglia, e qualche volta servi ad indicare il
complesso dei servi. Infine, siccome anche le persone libere potevano essere
date a mancipio, ed essere poste così transitoriamente in condizione di servitù;
cosi dovette pure aggiungersi la categoria giuridica delle persone « quae in
mancipii causa sunt » e che come tali « servo rum loco habentur.” Allorchè poi
questi aspetti diversi di un unico potere si furono differenziati gli uni dagli
altri, ciascuno potè obbedire al proprio concetto ispiratore, e ricevere cosi
uno svolgimento storico compiutamente diverso. Di questi poteri, quello, che
per il primo ebbe a sostenere un rude conflitto colle esigenze della vita
cittadina, fu la manus, ossia il potere del marito sulla moglie. Sopravvivenza
dell'organizzazione patriarcale, la manus appariva disadatta nella città, ove
non era più temperata dal patriarcale costume, e convertivasi in un potere
dispotico del marito sulla moglie. Se a ciò si aggiunga, che le donne, le quali
avevano da sottomettersi alla manus, dovevano prima consentirvi, e avevano per
giunta la protezione dei proprii genitori, sarà facile il comprendere come la
conventio in manu, dopo essere stata la regola, sia divenuta l'eccezione,
finchè fini per cadere com piutamente in disuso. Con ciò non deve già
intendersi, che il marito perdesse ogni autorità sulla propria moglie, ma solo
che la moglie non fu più assorbita nella personalità del capo di famiglia, ma
(1) Secondo Gaio, I, 52 e 55, il vocabolo di potestas comprenderebbe tanto il
potere sui servi, quanto quello sui figli; quello di manus, invece il potere
del ma rito sulla moglie (I, 109). Quando esso viene poi a parlare delle
personae, quae in mancipio sunt, I, 116 e segg., comincia dal premettere, che
anche i figli e la moglie mancipari possunt nel modo stesso, in cui lo possono
i servi: il che dimostre rebbe, che il vocabolo di mancipium,nella sua
significazione più larga, comprendeva eziandio tutte le persone soggette alla
potestà del padre. Quanto alle persone, quae in causa mancipii sunt, vedi lo
stesso Gaio, I, 138 e segg. 535 acquistò una certa indipendenza dal proprio
marito, sopratutto sotto l'aspetto economico (1). 415. Così invece non accadde
della patria potestas. Questa non ha più bisogno di essere volontariamente
accettata, come la manus, ma deve invece essere necessariamente subita, e sotto
un certo aspetto può anche apparire come una conseguenza del fatto della
nascita. Mancò quindi il principale motivo, che contribuì alla abo lizione
della manus del marito sulla moglie: donde la conseguenza, che la patria
potestà potè più a lungo conservare nel diritto romano le sue fattezze
primitive, e fu quindi un'istituzione, in cui la logica quiritaria ebbe campo a
spiegarsi in tutto il suo rigore. Il padre dal punto di vista giuridico si
appropria tutti gli acquisti, che siano fatti dai figli; pud vendere ed anche
uccidere i proprii figli; può rivendicarli, se gli siano sottratti; può dargli
a mancipio, se abbiano recato un danno, che egli non voglia risarcire. È però a
notarsi, che anche in questa parte la costruzione giuridica non risponde sempre
alla realtà dei fatti; poichè in sostanza i figli si ritengono compro prietarii
del padre, nè mostrano di lagnarsi di un potere, a cui il costume reca gli
opportuni temperamenti, e che loro non impedisce di aspirare e di giungere agli
onori e alle magistrature della città (2). Anche qui fu il corrompersi dei
costumi, che fece sentire il peri colo di un potere illimitato e senza confine,
e fu allora, che il di ritto civile romano, pur serbando integro il concetto
della patria potestà, venne attribuendo forma e carattere giuridico a quei tem
peramenti della medesima, che prima esistevano soltanto nel costume. Fu in
questa guisa, che il diritto romano, senza derogare alla supe riorità del
padre, fini per riconoscere una certa personalità giuridica anche al figlio, il
quale venne così ad avere un proprio caput, e un proprio status nel seno della
famiglia, ed introdusse eziandio dei temperamenti, sia quanto alla durata, che
quanto agli effetti della patria potestà. 418. Noi troviamo infatti, che,
mentre la patria potestà continud a durare per tutta la vita, venne formandosi
l'istituto dell'emancipa zione, in cui si assiste ad una singolare
trasformazione, per cui il potere, che al padre appartiene, di vendere il
proprio figlio, viene a (1) V. in proposito il precedente $ nella parte
relativa al conflitto del matrimonio cum manu e di quello sine manu, nn. 411 e
412, pag. 530 e segg. (2 ) Cfr. Voigt, Op. cit., II, SS 93 e 94. 536
convertirsi in un espediente per liberarlo dalla patria potestà. Anche qui
abbiamo una applicazione dell'atto quiritario, ossia dell'atto per aes et
libram, salvo che, in base alla letterale interpretazione delle XII Tavole, per
l'emancipazione di un figlio si richiedono tre man cipazioni, mentre,
trattandosi di figlie o di nipoti, basta una semplice mancipatio (1). Ed è
notabile eziandio, che questa emancipazione, pur attribuendo al figlio una
libertà ed indipendenza, che prima non aveva, continua pur sempre ad essere
considerata come una capitis diminutio; poichè sotto il punto di vista
giuridico, l'emancipato cessa di appartenere a quel gruppo famigliare, da cui
esce mediante l'emancipazione, e viene cosi a perdere quello status, che a lui
ap parteneva rimpetto alla medesima. Che anzi il rigore del diritto primitivo
si spinge fino al punto da escludere l'emancipato dalla successione per legge
alla morte del padre, e toccherà poi al diritto pretorio il cercare con mezzi
indiretti di ovviare a queste conse guenze, le quali, pur essendo conformi alla
logica giuridica, ripu gnano però ai naturali sentimenti ed affetti (2 ). Cosi
pure, mentre si mantiene sempre il concetto primitivo, che tutti gli acquisti
del figlio debbono sotto l'aspetto giuridico essere at tribuiti al padre, si
viene a poco a poco attribuendo carattere giu ridico all'istituzione dei
peculii. Non può infatti esservi dubbio, che i peculii già dovevano preesistere
nel costume, almeno sotto la forma di peculium profecticium, che era quel
piccolo patrimonio, di cui il (1) Gaio, I, 135. Si è molto disputato circa la
ragione probabile delle tre man cipazioni, che sono richieste per
l'emancipazione del figlio. Alcuni vogliono scorgere in ciò un indizio del più
forte vincolo, con cui il figlio intendevasi congiunto al proprio padre. A
parer mio, sembra invece molto più probabile, che questa triplice mancipazione
richiesta per i figli sia stata, come dice Gaio, I, 132, una conseguenza della
letterale interpretazione data alla legge delle XII Tavole, secondo cui « si
pater ter filium venum duit, filius a patre liber esto ». Per tal modo una
disposizione, che era evidentemente introdotta per impedire al padre di abusare
della persona del suo figlio,dandolo a mancipio più di tre volte, si cambiò in
un mezzo per emanciparlo. Negli altri casi invece, a cui non estendevasi la lettera
di questa disposizione, per trattarsi o di una figlia o di un nipote, potè
bastare una semplice mancipazione per produrre ilmedesimo effetto. Le
singolarità di questo genere si possono facilmente spiegare, quando si tenga
conto della lette rale osservanza della legge, che era un carattere della
primitiva iuris interpretatio. Questa interpretazione del resto trova un
appoggio in Dionisio, II, 27. (2) Vedi quanto all'emancipatio, in quanto
costituisce una capitis diminutio, ciò che si disse al nº 338, pag. 424, nota
4. Aggiungerò tuttavia agli autori colà ci tati il Voigt, Op. cit., II, $ 73,
presso il quale occorre una raccolta completa dei passi relativi all'argomento,
pag. 27 e 28, note 12, 13, 14. 537 padre concedeva una separata amministrazione
al figlio;ma ciò punto non impedi, che essi, solo assai tardi e
gradatamente,abbiano ottenuto il loro riconoscimento giuridico. Ed è notabile
eziandio l'ordine e il processo, con cui vennesi operando tale riconoscimento,
poichè si comincið dall' attribuire al figlio i guadagni, che egli avesse fatti
servendo nella milizia (peculium castrense ); poi si assomigliarono ai lucri,
da lui fatti in guerra, quelli fatti nell'esercizio delle pro fessioni liberali
(peculium quasi castrense); da ultimo si presero in considerazione tutti quegli
acquisti, che a lui fossero provenuti dagli ascendenti materni o in qualsiasi
altra guisa (bona adventicia ). Intanto, mentre si modellavano così le varie
specie di peculii, si introduceva ad un tempo una sapiente ed acconcia
graduazione per determinare a queste proposito i diritti, che appartenevano al
padre ed al figlio (1 ). Questi temperamenti tuttavia non tolgono, che la
patria potestà continuasse sempre ad essere il rudere meglio conservato dell'an
tica organizzazione della famiglia patriarcale, e quindi non è me raviglia se
ad operá compiuta gli stessi giureconsulti fossero colpiti dal carattere
particolare della patria potestà del cittadino romano, di fronte alle
istituzioni degli altri popoli. 417. L'importanza di questa unificazione della
famiglia sotto la patria potestà del padre viene a farsi anche più evidente,
quando trattasi di quelle istituzioni, che hanno per iscopo di supplire in
qualche modo al difetto di figliuolanza. Esse sono l'adrogatio, con cui si
viene a sottoporre alla patria potestà una persona sui iuris, e la semplice
adoptio, con cui un figlio ancora sottoposto alla patria potestà di una
persona, viene ad essere costituito sotto la patria potestà di un altra. Le
origini dell'una e dell'altra rimontano senza alcun dubbio all'organizzazione
della famiglia patriarcale, nella quale (1) L'antichità del peculium è
dimostrata dalla stessa etimologia della parola (a pecudibus). Del resto è
facile a comprendersi, che lo stesso accentramento della famiglia nel proprio
capo rendeva indispensabile la concessione di un certo peculio, così ai figli
che ai servi. Anche qui pertanto il ius civile non creò già l'istituzione; ma
la raccolse dalle costumanze, e diede alla medesima configurazione giuridica.
Quanto all'ordine, con cui furono accolte le diverse forme di peculia, cfr.
MUIRHEAD, Op. cit., pagg. 344 e 347; il PADELLETTI, Storia del dir. rom., ediz.
Cogliolo, pag. 187, nota 4; il SERAFINI, Istituzioni di diritto romano, $ 169.
Sono poi degne di nota, quanto all'istituzione dei peculii, le osservazioni del
SumnER MAINE, L'ancien droit, pag. 134. 538 si proponevano l'intento
importantissimo di perpetuare la famiglia ed il suo culto. Quella perd fra
esse, che produceva più gravi ef fetti, al punto di vista gentilizio, era
certamente l'adrogatio, come quella che sopprimeva in certo modo una famiglia
ed il suo culto, per rendere possibile la perpetuazione di un'altra (1). Essa
quindi, nella comunanza gentilizia, dovette probabilmente essere compiuta
coll'approvazione dei capi di famiglia, o degli anziani del villaggio; donde la
conseguenza, che quando fu poi trasportata nella città, essa fu uno di quegli
atti solenni, che, al pari del testamento, dovevano es sere compiuti in calatis
comitiis, coll'intervento dei pontefici, i quali dovevano vegliare al
mantenimento dei culti pubblici e privati, e colle forme di una vera e propria
legge. L'adoptio invece, riferen dosi a persona, che era ancora soggetta alla
patria potestà, suppo neva da una parte la rinunzia del padre al proprio
potere, il che facevasi col mezzo della mancipatio, applicando al solito l'atto
per aes et libram, e dall'altra la sottomissione del figlio alla patria po
testà dell'adottante, il che compievasi davanti al magistrato, me diante quella
finta rivendicazione ed aggiudicazione, che costituiva l'in iure cessio. 418.
Intanto qui viene ad essere evidente, che, siccome trattavasi di istituzioni di
origine esclusivamente patrizia, perchè era sopratutto nella famiglia patrizia,
che era viva ed efficace l'aspirazione a per petuare se stessa ed il proprio
culto, cosi lo svolgimento storico di queste istituzioninon ritiene le traccie
di un contributo diretto, che possa avervi recato la plebe. Le forme infatti,
che le accompagnano, o sono di origine patrizia, come quella relativa
all'adrogatio, o sono invece una elaborazione giuridica del diritto quiritario,
comequelle che circondano l'adoptio, senza che trovinsi le traccie di un modo
di adozione, che possa essere di origine plebea. Ciò però non tolse, che anche
l'arrogazione e l'adozione abbiano finito per diventare una istituzione comune
a tutti gli ordini sociali; ma intanto a misura che ciò accade, esse perdono
sempre più il loro carattere gentilizio, finchè finiscono per informarsi ad un
con cetto ispiratore compiutamente diverso. Esse infatti col tempo ces (1)
Questo effetto dell'adrogatio è efficacemente espresso da PAPIN., Leg. 11, § 2,
Dig. (37-11): « dando se in arrogando testator cum capite fortunas quoque suas
in familiam et domum alienam transfert ». Quanto alle origini dell'adrogatio
nel pe riodo gentilizio, vedi lib. I, n° 25, pag. 31. Le differenze poi fra
l'adrogatio e l'a doptio sono sopratutto poste in evidenza da Gellio, V, 19.
539 sano dall'essere un mezzo per perpetuare la famiglia ed il suo culto; ma si
limitano allo scopo di procurare le gioie della figliuolanza a coloro che siano
privi della medesima, per guisa che in contrad dizione col diritto primitivo,
anche le donne poterono adottare ed essere adottate. Così pure queste
istituzioni, che negli inizii stacca vano affatto una persona dalla sua famiglia,
per trasportarla in un'altra, finirono per modificarsi in guisa da contemperare
i diritti della famiglia naturale con quelli della famiglia adottiva (1). 419.
Rimane ora a dire brevemente del potere del padre di fa miglia sui servi. Anche
qui non pud esservi dubbio, che la servitù rimonta al periodo gentilizio, e che
essa non dovette essere propria delle genti italiche, ma comune a tutte le
genti; come lo dimostra il fatto, che i Romani non riguardarono mai la servitù
come istitu zione loro propria, ma comeuna istituzione del diritto delle genti
(2 ). La medesima sotto un certo aspetto era un compimento necessario della
famiglia patriarcale: perchè senza di essa questa non avrebbe potuto costituire
un gruppo, che potesse bastare a se stesso. È quindi naturale, che quando il
capo di famiglia entrò a parte cipare alla comunanza quiritaria, esso
comparisse nella medesima non solo colla moglie e colla figliuolanza, ma anche
coi servi, i quali vennero ad essere compresi nel suo mancipium, e costituirono
così una parte integrante della famiglia romana (3 ). Per tal modo i servi
diventarono in Roma gli strumenti intelligenti del cittadino romano, il quale
potè valersi di essi per esercitare qualsiasi ne gozio o commercio, senza
derogare alla sua dignità, ed anche per evitare ai proprii figli l'ignominia di
una eredità passiva, chia mandoli anche loro malgrado a succedergli, in qualità
di heredes necessarii (4). Si comprende quindi, che al punto di vista giuri
dico i servi fossero considerati come cose, anzichè come persone, e che il
potere del padrone sopra di essi apparisse illimitato e senza confine. Tuttavia,
anche qui la famigliarità dei rapporti fra il pa drone ed i servi, l'intimità
di vita, che eravi talora tra i figliuoli (1) Quanto all'ultimo stadio del
diritto civile romano nello svolgimento dell'ado zione, vedi Justin., Instit.
II, XI. (2 ) Fra gli altri Gaio, I, 52, dichiara espressamente, che la potestas
sui servi iuris gentium est. (3 ) Come i servi costituissero una parte
integrante della famiglia risulta ad evi. denza dai passi raccolti dal Voigt,
XII Tafeln, II, pag. 12 e segg., e note relative. (4 ) GAIO, II, 152; ULP.,
Fragm. XXII, 11 e 24. 540 - dell'uno e quelli degli altri, l'abnegazione
frequente dei servi per il loro padrone, e la necessità stessa, in cui fu la
legge di porre dei limiti alla facoltà di manomettere i proprii servi, sono
circo stanze che dimostrano, come anche la condizione effettiva dei servi,
sopratutto nei primi tempi di Roma, non corrisponda in ogni parte alla severità,
con cui essa ebbe ad essere governata sotto l'aspetto giuridico (1). 420. In
ogni caso è cosa fuori di ogni dubbio, che la condizione dei servi ebbe a
subire ancor essa una trasformazione profonda nel pas saggio
dall'organizzazione gentilizia alla città propriamente detta. Giuridicamente
parlando, il potere del padrone appare forse più rigido nella città, che non
nel periodo gentilizio; ma in essa il servo ha il vantaggio di poter essere
fatto libero, e di essere così elevato alla dignità di cittadino. Mentre
dapprima il servo manomesso do veva, per la stessa necessità delle cose,
cercare protezione e tutela nel gruppo, a cui apparteneva, e quindi col cessare
di esser servo doveva trasformarsi in cliente: nella città invece, sopratutto
dopo Servio Tullio, a cui si attribuisce di aver attribuita la cittadinanza ai
servi affrancati, il servo manomesso venne ad essere sotto la protezione della
pubblica autorità, e potè colla libertà acquistare anche la cittadinanza. Colla
manomissione pertanto viene a verifi carsi la più profonda trasformazione nello
stato giuridico, di cui ci porga esempio il diritto civile romano. Con essa il
servo, che era considerato come una cosa, viene a trasformarsi in una persona,
e colui, che non aveva nė libertà, nè cittadinanza, nè posizione nella famiglia,
viene ad acquistare tutte queste cose ad un tempo. Solo rimangono le traccie
dell'antico stato di cose nella istituzione del patronato, la quale deve perciò
essere considerata come una soprav vivenza dell'organizzazione gentilizia.
Malgrado di ciò, questa impor tantissima trasformazione nello stato di una
persona viene dapprima ad essere rimessa intieramente all'arbitrio del quirite,
il quale può manomettere i proprii servi vindicta, censu, testamento, ed ha
cosi potestà di accrescere indefinitamente il numero dei cittadini romani. (1)
Nota giustamente l'HÖLDER, Istituz., $ 42, pag. 117, che il servo, ancorchè sia
considerato come una cosa, non perde però la sua qualità d'uomo, poichè gli si
ri conoscono le facoltà, che lo distinguevano come uomo, prima dell'altrui
dominio. È questo il motivo, per cui il potere sullo schiavo chiamavasi
potestas, e gli atti acqui. sitivi da lui compiuti erano stati validi, come se
fossero stati compiuti dal suo padrone. 541 Anche qui fu solo più tardi, che
l'esercizio illimitato di questa po testà privata sembrò essere in conflitto
colle esigenze del pubblico interesse, e allora, mentre da una parte si cercd
di assicurare i di ritti del patrono sull'eredità dei liberti, dall'altra si
cerco di met tere dei confini alla manomissione dei servi, il che si ottenne in
parte coll'introdurre gradazioni diverse nella libertà, che era accor data ai
servi (1). Fu in questa guisa, che al concetto di un'unica libertà i
giureconsulti, interpretando le leggi Aelia Sentia e Junia Norbana,
sostituirono le categorie diverse dei latini, dei latini iu niani, e dei
dediticii, la cui libertà può essere migliore o peggiore, secondo che essa
lasci più facile l'adito alla cittadinanza romana: « pessima itaque, conchiude
Gaio, eorum libertas est, qui dediti ciorum numero sunt, nam ulla lege, aut
senatus consulto, aut con stitutione principali aditus illis ad civitatem
romanam datur » (2 ). 421. Da ultimo anche le persone libere, quae in causa
mancipii erant,dovettero pur esse avere un posto in questa costruzione
giuridica della famiglia romana, il che si ottenne collocandole nella posizione
di servi (servorum loco habentur), per tutto quel tempo per cui erano date a
mancipio. Tuttavia i giureconsulti stessi hanno cura di notare, che la
concezione giuridica non deve in questa parte essere confusa colla realtà, come
lo prova questa notevole proposizione di Gaio: « admonendi sumus, adversus eos,
quos in mancipio ha bemus, nihil nobis contumeliose facere licere; alioquin
iniuria rum actione tenebimur: ac ne diu quidem in eo iure detinentur homines,
sed plerumque hoc fit dicis gratia, uno mo mento, nisi scilicet ex noxali causa
mancipentur » (3 ). Con ciò parmi di aver abbastanza dimostrato, che la
rigidezza, con cui fu modellata nel diritto civile di Roma la potestà spettante
al capo di famiglia, trova la sua causa in ciò, che i Romani, anche in (1) È
notabile a questo riguardo, che il più antico diritto di Roma, come lasciava al
cittadino piena libertà dimanomettere i propri servi, così, in omaggio sempre
alla libertà del testatore,non aveva tutelato in nessun modo le ragioni del
patrono contro il testamento del liberto. Ciò viene attestato da Gaio, III, 40,
41, il quale, dopo aver detto, che « olim licebat liberto patronum suum impune
in testamento prae terire » aggiunge poi che il diritto pretorio e poscia la
legge Papia Poppea avevano cercato di riparare a questa iuris iniquitas. (2 )
Gaio, 1, 26; Ulp., Fragm., I, 5. (3 ) Gaio, I, 141. 542 questa parte,
trasportarono nella città il potere del capo di famiglia patriarcale; lo
isolarono dall'ambiente, in cui erasi formato e da ogni elemento estraneo al
diritto; e riuscirono così a dare una configu razione prettamente giuridica, ad
un potere, che in realtà conti nuava poi a trovare molti temperamenti nel
costume e nella morale. Questi caratteri della famiglia romana trovano poi una
conferma nel modo, in cui era governata la successione legittima, nel primi
tivo diritto di Roma. § 4. – La successione e la tutela legittima nel primitivo
ius quiritium. 422. L'ordinamento giuridico della famiglia primitiva in Roma
presenta eziandio questa singolarità, che mentre, vivo il padre, tutto sembra
unificarsi in lui, mancando invece il medesimo, senza aver disposto delle
proprie cose per testamento (si intestato moritur), ricompare una specie di
comproprietà famigliare fra le persone, che dipendono dalla sua patria potestà.
Queste persone infatti son chia mate a succedergli come heredes sui; non possono
respingerne la eredità (heredes sui et necessarii); che anzi, senza bisogno di
una vera e propria accettazione, sembrano essere direttamente investite dalla
legge stessa di quel patrimonio famigliare, di cui già prima apparivano
comproprietarie: « sui quidem heredes, dice Gaio, ideo appellantur, quia
domestici heredes sunt et vivo quoque parente quodammodo domini existimantur »
(1). Molti autori combatterono il concetto di questa comproprietà fa migliare,
dicendola in contraddizione colla unificazione potente della famiglia romana
nella persona del proprio capo (2). A nostro avviso invece questa specie di
comproprietà, che i giureconsulti pongono a fondamento della successione degli
heredes sui, può essere facil mente spiegata e conciliata coll'unità potente
della famiglia romana, (1) GAIO, II, 157. (2 ) Fra gli autori, che combattono
questa comproprietà famigliare, mi limiterò a citare il PADELLETTI, Op. cit.,
pag. 201, e il Cogliolo, Saggi di evoluzione nel di ritto privato, pag. 108 e
segg.; il quale, a pag. 111, in nota, fa pure un elenco degli autori, che
tengono per l'una o per l'altra opinione. Fra quelli, che ammettono questa
comproprietà famigliare, vuolsi aggiungere il DUBOIS, La saisine héréditaire en
droit romain, Paris, 1880, pag. 63, e il CARPENTIER, Essai sur l'origine et
l'étendue de la règle: nemo pro parte testatus, pro parte intestatus decedere
potest, nella « Nouvelle Revue historique », 1886, pag. 457 e segg. 513 quando
si ritenga che la famiglia quiritaria non è in sostanza, che la stessa famiglia
patriarcale, trasportata nella città, ed isolata dal l'ambiente gentilizio, in
cui erasi formata. La famiglia patriarcale infatti riuniva appunto due
caratteri, pressochè opposti fra di loro; quello cioè di apparire da una parte
unificata nella persona del padre, il che la rendeva unita e compatta per la
lotta, che doveva sostenere cogli altri gruppi, da cui era circondata; e quello
di sup porre dall'altra un'assoluta comunione di tutte le utilità domestiche,
il che produceva un'intima solidarietà fra le persone, che entravano a
costituirla. In questo senso potevasi dire di essa con Cicerone: « una domus,
communia omnia ». Questa solidarietà e compro prietà fra i membri del medesimo
gruppo famigliare viene ad essere dimostrata dai seguenti indizii: che il
primitivo heredium era di sua natura trasmessibile di padre in figlio; che il
padre trovava un ostacolo alla dilapidazione del patrimonio famigliare, nel
iudicium de moribus per parte del consiglio degli anziani della gens; che il
padre infine non poteva disporre delle proprie cose per testamento, nè
scegliersi un figlio adottivo senza l'approvazione degli altri capi di famiglia,
che appartenevano alla sua gente o tribù (1). Vero è, che tutti questi
temperamenti del potere patriarcale del capo di famiglia sembrano scomparire,
quando, col formarsi della città, la famiglia venne ad essere staccata dal
gruppo patriarcale, di cui entrava a far parte, e il capo di essa apparve così
investito di un potere illimitato e senza confini; ma ciò deve essere
considerato come un effetto di quella elaborazione giuridica, che tendeva ad
uni ficare la famiglia nella persona del proprio capo. Era quindinatu rale,
che, quando questa unificazione non era più possibile per la mancanza del capo,
risorgesse la primitiva comproprietà famigliare fra le persone libere, che
appartenevano allo stesso gruppo. Che anzi la stessa unificazione potente del
gruppo nel proprio capo do veva determinare una specie di comunione fra i
membri del gruppo, e condurre così alla conseguenza giuridica, che in questo
caso non si avverasse una vera successione, ma il dominio del padre conti
nuasse in certo modo nella persona dei figli; conseguenza, che ebbe ad essere
mirabilmente espressa dal giureconsulto Paolo: in suis heredibus evidentius
apparet continuationem dominii eo rem per ducere, ut nulla videatur hereditas
fuisse, quasi olim hi domini (1) Ho cercato di dimostrare questi caratteri
della proprietà famigliare nel pe riodo gentilizio nel lib. I, cap. 4, § 3º,
sopratutto pag. 70 e segg. 544 essent, qui, vivo etiam patre, quodammodo domini
existimantur. Itaque post mortem patris non hereditatem percipere videntur, sed
magis liberam bonorum administrationem consequuntur (1). Fu in questa guisa,
che la famiglia primitiva potè perpetuarsi nelle generazioni, e cambiarsi in un
organismo immortale e perpetuo, poichè i figli apparivano come i continuatori
della personalità del padre, e al modo stesso, che dovevano perpetuare il culto
domestico, così dovevano raccoglierne, anche loro malgrado, l'eredità. 423. Nè
si può ammettere, che questa specie di comproprietà, a cui accennano i
giureconsulti, sia un concetto penetrato più tardi nella classica
giurisprudenza, per spiegare il passaggio del patrimonio famigliare dal padre
nei figli (2 ): poichè questo intimo rapporto fra l'hereditas ed i sacra, è
certo un concetto, che rimonta all'an tichissimo diritto, come pure è a questo,
che deve farsi risalire quella posizione del tutto speciale, che gli heredes
sui assumono di fronte agli altri ordini di eredi. Questa distinzione infatti
già doveva esistere nella universale coscienza, all'epoca della legislazione
decem virale. In questa infatti non si fa menzione espressa della succes sione
dell'heres suus, ma solo vi si accenna come a cosa, che na turalmente accade, e
che quasi non abbisogna di speciale menzione; mentre è solo per il caso, in cui
non siavi un heres suus, che le XII Tavole determinano l'ordine della
successione per legge, chia mando alla medesima prima l’agnatus proximus, e in
mancanza del medesimo i gentiles: « si intestato moritur, cui suus heres nec
escit, adgnatus proximus familiam habeto; si adgnatus nec escit, gentiles
familiam habento » (3). Che anzi a questo proposito parmi di poter con
fondamento inol trare la congettura, che in occasione della legislazione
decemvirale le genti patrizie cercarono di trasportare nel ius proprium civium (1)
PAOLO, Leg. 11, Dig. X (28-2). V. nel CARPENTIER, Op. e loc. cit., una rac
colta di testi che confermano questa comproprietà famigliare. (2) Tale sarebbe
l'opinione del PADELLETTI, Op. cit., pag. 201. (3 ) Queste due disposizioni
delle XII Tavole, secondo il Voigt, Op. cit., I, pag. 704, sarebbero la 2a e la
3a legge della Tav. IV. A questo proposito poi il Voigt, Op. cit., II, pag.
387, sembra ritenere, che esistesse una comproprietà di fatto, ma non di
diritto. Convien però ammettere, che tale comproprietà producesse, dopo la
morte del padre, delle vere conseguenze di diritto, dal momento che faceva
considerare gli heredes sui, come continuatori della personalità del padre, e
li metteva anzi nella impossibilità di rinunziarvi. Vedi Gaio, I, 157. - 545
romanorum, e di rendere così comune a tutte le classi quel sistema di
successione ab intestato, che doveva già esistere nel loro costume durante il
periodo gentilizio. Noi sappiamo infatti dagli stessi giu reconsulti, che colle
XII Tavole soltanto ebbe ad essere introdotto il sistema di successione
legittima, e ne abbiamo anche una prova nella circostanza, che fu perfino
introdotto un ordine di eredi le gittimi, che era quello dei gentiles, il quale
non poteva certo appar tenere alla plebe, dal momento che questa non possedeva
le gentes. Per tal modo il patriziato, che già aveva trasportata nella comu nanza
quiritaria la propria organizzazione domestica, riusci eziandio a farvi
penetrare il proprio sistema di successione. Di qui la con seguenza, che anche
il sistema successorio dei romani deve essere considerato come una
sopravvivenza dell'organizzazione patriarcale della famiglia patrizia; come lo
dimostra la circostanza, che esso fondasi esclusivamente sull'agnazione, non
tiene alcun conto della cognazione, e si propone come scopo esclusivo di
perpetuare il pa trimonio nella famiglia agnatizia, e di farlo ritornare alla
gente, al lorchè siasi estinta la famiglia (1). Per tal modo, in base alla
legislazione decemvirale, noi veniamo a trovarci di fronte a tre ordini di
eredi, che sono: lº gli heredes sui, nei quali si comprendono la moglie, i
figli cosi maschi come femmine e gli altri discendenti nella linea maschile,
tutte le per sone insomma, che erano soggette alla patria potestà del capo di
famiglia; 2 ° gli agnati, cioè tutti coloro, che discendono per la linea
maschile da un comune autore, alla cui potestà sarebbero stati sog getti,
quando non fosse premorto; 3º e da ultimo i gentiles, ossia tutti coloro, i
quali, più non essendo compresi nella familia omnium agnatorum, hanno però
comune la discendenza da un medesimo (1) Che la successione e la tutela
legittima siano state introdotte dalle XII Ta vole, mentre queste non avrebbero
fatto altro, che confermare le successioni testa mentarie, è cosa a più riprese
affermata da ULPIANO, Fragm. XI, 3, e XXVII, 5. Di qui ilMuirhead avrebbe
perfino indotto, che i decemviri abbiano creato di pianta l'ordine degli
agnati, come tutori e successori legittimi (Op. cit., pag. 122 e 172 ). Ho già
dimostrato più sopra, pag. 39, nota 1", che questa opinione non può essere
accettata, perchè l'ordine degli agnati già esisteva nell'organizzazione
gentilizia, ed il concetto dell'agnazione stava a fondamento della medesima; ma
intanto questa sua opinione può essere accolta, quando sia intesa nel senso,
che i decemviri colle XII Tavole estesero anche alla plebe quel sistema di
successione legittima, che le consuetudini avevano già svolta presso le genti
patrizie. G. CARLE, Le origini del diritto di Roma. 35 546 antenato, e come
tali hanno ancora ilmedesimo nome e appartengono alla stessa gente. 424. È poi
degno di nota il modo diverso, con cui questi varii ordini di eredi sono
chiamati a succedere. Finchè trattavasi di heredes sui, essi, essendo soggetti
alla patria potestà della stessa persona, e come tali appartenendo almedesimo
gruppo, venivano in certo modo ad essere eredi di se stessi; esclu devano gli
emancipati, le figlie passate a matrimonio e cosi entrate in un'altra famiglia,
tutti coloro insomma, che erano già usciti dal gruppo; non abbisognavano di
vera accettazione dell'eredità, ma suc cedevano anche loro malgrado (heredes
sui et necessarii): non potevano essere spogliati dell'eredità mediante
l'usucapio pro he rede; infine succedevano per stirpe, ossia per
rappresentazione, perchè nella costituzione della famiglia primitiva i figli
rappresen tano il padre (1). Quando trattavasi invece di agnati, il patrimonio
doveva già uscire da un gruppo per passare ad un altro: quindi la legge, per
impedirne la suddivisione soverchia, si limitava a devolverlo allo agnatus
proximus, escludendone ogni altro. Questi però non può più essere considerato
come un heres suus, ma è già un heres extraneus, perchè più non appartiene al
gruppo famigliare nello stretto senso della parola. Egli quindi ha già facoltà
di accettare o di respingere l'eredità, e può vedersi usucapita l'eredità da
altre per sone. Nella interpretazione dei giureconsulti prevalse poi
l'opinione, che nell'ordine degli agnati non dovesse farsi luogo alla
successione per stirpi o per rappresentazione, forse perchè nel concetto romano
è solo nei limiti della stessa famiglia, che i figli appariscono come i
rappresentanti dei loro genitori. Quindi è, che l'agnato prossimo esclude tutti
gli altri agnati, e se egli non accetti o non possa ac cettare l'eredità,
questa viene ad essere devoluta all'altro ordine, ossia ai gentiles (2 ). (1 )
Gaio, III, 1 a 8; Ulp., Fragm., XXIV, 1 a 3. (2) GAIB, III, 9 a 15, Ulp., Fragm.,
XXIV, 1. L'enumerazione, che Gaio ed Ulpiano fanno degli agnati, confermano il
concetto, che ho svolto nel lib. I, pag. 38 e 39, secondo cui la cerchia degli
agnati sarebbe stata determinata da quella in divisione di patrimonio, che,
morto il padre, mantenevasi fra i fratelli e i loro di scendenti per la linea
maschile. Questo gruppo continuava in certo modo l'unità indivisa della
famiglia, e costituiva quella famiglia più grande, che fu chiamata 547 Qui però
l'espressione della legge cambia, in quanto che essa dice senz'altro: « si
agnatus proximus nec escit, gentiles familiam habento »; il che fa ritenere,
che i gentili non fossero chiamati a succedere come individui, ma in quanto
costituivano l'ente collet tivo della gens, cosicchè l'eredità sarebbe in certo
modo ritornata alla gente considerata nella propria universalità, e sarebbe
così ve nuta a ricadere in quell'ager gentilicius, da cui si erano staccati i
primitivi heredia delle singole famiglie. Era sopratutto in questa parte, che
erasi cercato di mantenere viva nella città l'antica orga nizzazione gentilizia:
ma l'istituzione non potè mantenersi a lungo come lo dimostra Gaio, il quale
parla di questo ius gentilicium, come di cosa andata da lungo tempo in disuso
(1). Non ha poi bisogno di essere dimostrato, che questo sistema di successione
per legge, desunto dall'antica organizzazione gentilizia, trovava il proprio
compimento nella disposizione, per cui la succes sione del cliente o del
liberto, che fosse morto senza testamento o senza eredi suoi, veniva dalla
legge ad essere devoluta al patrono, od ai figli di lui, od infine alla gente
del patrono: « si cliens in testato moritur, cui suus heres nec escit, pecunia
ex eius fa milia in patroni familiam redito » (2). omnium agnatorum. Quando poi
venne meno quest' indivisione del patrimonio, si chiamarono agnati tutti
coloro, che sarebbero stati soggetti alla patria potestà, quando il padre non
fosse premorto. Fra essi ULPIANO, loc. cit., comprende anzitutto quelli, che egli
chiama i consanguinei, « id est fratres et sorores ex eodem patre »; poscia,
quando questi manchino, gli altri agnati prossimi « id est cognatos virilis
sexus, per mares discendentes, eiusdem familiae, (1) Gaio, III, 17; UlP., Fragm.,
XXIV, 1. Noi abbiamo tuttavia CICERONE, De orat., I, il quale accenna ad una
causa di eredità, dibattutasi davanti ai Centum viri fra i Claudii patrizii ed
i Marcelli discendenti da un loro liberto, in cui dice che gli oratori delle
parti dovettero occuparsi « de toto stirpis ac gentilitatis iure ». Sembra
tuttavia, che anche all'epoca di Cicerone fossero già infrequenti le cause di
questo genere. (2 ) Ulp., L. 195, § 1, Dig. (50, 16). Nella ricostruzione del
Voigt, I, pag. 705, questa legge sarebbe la 4a della Tavola IV. Vedi ciò che
dice lo stesso Voigt, II, pag. 392 e 393, quanto alla successione del patrono
al liberto. Anche quanto alla successione del liberto si manifesta una specie
di antagonismo fra la successione testamentaria e la legittima; poichè,mentre
nella prima il liberto poteva nei primi tempi (V. Gaio, III, 40-41) dimenticare
impunemente il suo patrono, la seconda invece, introdotta eziandio dalle XII
Tavole, tendeva a richiamare il patrimonio del liberto alla famiglia del
patrono, quando il primo fosse morto senza eredi suoi. 548 425. Per contro è
assai degno di nota, che, unitamente al sistema della successione legittima,
dalla legislazione decemvirale fu eziandio introdotto il sistema della tutela
legittima. Di cid abbiamo l'espressa attestazione dei giureconsulti (1): ma la
prova più convincente vuolsi riporre nella circostanza, che il sistema della
tutela legittima, quale ebbe ad essere regolato dalle XII Tavole, é coordinato
con quello della successione legittima, ed obbedisce al medesimo concetto ispi
ratore. Per giustificare la cosa i giureconsulti più tardi misero in nanzi la
considerazione, che l'onere della tutela doveva cadere su coloro, che avevano
il vantaggio della successione: « ubi emolu mentum successionis, ibi onus
tutelae »; ma la causa storica deveessere cercata nel fatto, che tanto la
tutela, che la successione le gittima si informano ancora ai concetti
dell'organizzazione genti lizia, da cui furono desunte, e come tali mirano a
conservare il patrimonio prima alla famiglia agnatizia e pos cia alla
gente. Viene così a comprendersi, come nel sistema primitivo la tutela degli im
puberi ed anche la cura dei prodighi e dei furiosi, fosse affidata agli agnati
ed ai gentili; come le donne, anche perfectae aetatis, cadessero sotto la
tutela degli agnati; come infine le res mancipii, spettanti alle medesime e ai
pupilli, non potessero essere usucapite, quando non si fossero alienate col
consenso del tutore. Così pure viene a spiegarsi quel singolare carattere della
tutela primitiva del l'impubere, la quale mira piuttosto alla conservazione del
patrimonio, che non alla educazione della persona, la cui cura soleva essere
lasciata alla madre ed agli altri congiunti, i quali si ispiravano di
preferenza all'affetto del sangue, che all'interesse gentilizio di ser bare
integro il patrimonio famigliare (2). i 426. Chi tuttavia riguardi al
posteriore svolgimento del diritto civile romano, può facilmente inferirne, che
tanto il sistema della successione, quanto quello della tutela legittima, non
trovarono mai favorevole svolgimento nella opinione comune della cittadinanza
ro mana. Conformi al modo di pensare di quella minoranza patrizia, che si
atteneva strettamente alle tradizioni gentilizie, esse invece ripugnavano al
modo di sentire delle altre classi, i cui rapporti di (1) Ulp., Fragm., XI, 3.
(2) È da vedersi, quanto alla tutela legittima e ai suoi caratteri peculiari,
il Pa DELLETTI, Op. cit., pag. 188 e le note relative. 549 famiglia si
ispiravano di preferenza al vincolo naturale del sangue e della cognazione. A
misura poi, che le traccie dell'organizzazione gentilizia si venivano
dissolvendo sotto l'influenza della vita citta dina, questo sistema di
successione e di tutela apparve disadatto a quei magistrati stessi, che
dovevano applicarlo. È questo il motivo, per cui Gaio a questo proposito non
parla solo di sottigliezze del l'antico diritto, ma di vere iuris iniquitates;
alle quali cercò poi di riparare il diritto pretorio, introducendo, accanto
alla successione legittima, una successione pretoria, e creando, accanto ai
tutores legitimi, i tutores Atiliani o dativi. Fu pur questo il motivo, per cui
i giureconsulti mal potevano spiegarsi la tutela perpetua, a cui le donne erano
sottoposte nell'antico diritto, e vennero creando essi stessi degli espedienti
giuridici, quale fu quello veramente ca ratteristico della coemptio cum fiducia,
per liberarle da una tutela, le cui ragioni dovevano forse essere cercate in un
periodo anteriore di organizzazione sociale (1). In ogni caso poi una prova di
questa generale condanna del si stema di successione e di tutela legittima può
scorgersi eziandio nel largo sviluppo che presero in Roma la successione e la
tutela testamentaria, e nell'antagonismo che sembra esistervi fra le due
maniere di successione. $ 5. – Rapporti fra la successione legittima e la testamentaria
nel diritto primitivo di Roma. 427. È noto che in Roma la successione legittima
e la testamen taria non poterono mai fondersi insieme, e si mantennero anzi in
una specie di antagonismo fra di loro. Ciò è dichiarato espressa mente dal
giureconsulto, che scorge nelle due istituzioni un natu (1) Fra i
giureconsulti, che non sanno darsi ragione della tutela perpetua, a cui le
donne erano sottoposte, abbiamo Gaio, I, 190. È tuttavia a notarsi, che egli,
più sotto, I, 192, finisce per indicare la vera ragione, per cui anche le donne
erano sot toposte alla tutela dei loro agnati; la quale consiste in ciò, che
siccome gli agnati erano chiamati a succedere alle donne, che morissero ab
intestato, così essi avevano interesse a che esse, senza il loro consenso, non
potessero fare testamento, nè alienare le cose più preziose, che entravano a
costituire il patrimonio. Per tal modo la tutela degli agnati ebbe lo scopo
stesso della loro successione legittima, quello cioè di conservare il
patrimonio nella famiglia agnatizia; il qual concetto è per certo uno di
quelli, le cui origini debbono essere cercate nel periodo gentilizio. 550 rale
conflitto; è confermato dalla massima: nemo paganus partim testatus, partim
intestatus decedere potest; ed è provato eziandio da quella specie di
ripugnanza, che avevano i Romani a morire senza testamento: ripugnanza, che si
spinse fino a tale da ritenere pressochè disonorato chi morisse senza
testamento. Il fatto può quindi essere affermato con certezza; ma è tanto più
ardua la spie gazione di esso, come lo dimostra la varietà grandissima di
opinioni e di congetture, che furono emesse in proposito (1 ). Credo tuttavia,
che anche in questa parte possa condurci a qualche conclusione, forse nuova, lo
studio delle origini del ius quiritium. Questo studio infatti ci pone in grado
di affermare, che la succes sione legittima ed il testamento hanno avuto una
origine e uno svolgimento compiutamente diversi nel primitivo ius quiritium.
Mentre la successione e la tutela legittima, le quali soltanto colle XII Tavole
entrarono a far parte del diritto comune, sono istitu zioni di origine
prettamente gentilizia, ispirate al concetto di ser (1) L'origine storica della
massima « nemo paganus, ecc. » è una questione, che è lungi dall'essere risolta,
malgrado la ricchissima letteratura, di cui fu argomento. Fra autori, che la
esaminarono di recente, citero soltanto il RUGGERI, nei Documenti di storia e
di diritto; il CARPENTIER, nella Nouvelle Revue historique, 1886, pag. 449 a
474; il Padel LETTI, La istituzione di erede ex re certa (« Archivio giuridico
», vol. IV ). Anche l'ESMEIN, La manus, la paternité, ecc., pag. 4, nota 10.
accenno di passaggio ad una spiegazione di questa massima, dicendo che la
medesima proveniva da che il patrimonio si trasmetteva come l'accessorio di un
culto, e che siccome di un culto non si poteva disporre per una parte soltanto,
così non si poteva neppure lasciare un'eredità parte per testamento e parte per
legge. Parmi che questa non possa an cora essere la risoluzione definitiva:
poichè se un culto poteva dividersi fra più eredi legittimi, non vi può essere
ragione, per cui non si potesse anche dividere fra eredi legittimi e
testamentarii. Il CARPENTIER poi, nel suo dotto lavoro sopra citato, verrebbe
alla conseguenza, che questa massima fosse una conseguenza logica del concetto
romano, per cui tanto la successione legittima, quanto la testamentaria, do
vevano comprendere l'intiero patrimonio; ma anche qui si potrebbe sempre dire,
che quest'universum ius, come poteva dividersi fra gli eredi per legge e
testamentarii; così avrebbe potuto dividersi eziandio fra gli uni e gli altri.
Secondo il RUGGIERI, Op. cit., il motivo della massima starebbe in ciò, che
anche il testamento dapprima era una vera lex, e quindi doveva prevalere o la
lex publica o la lex testamenti,ma non potevano concorrere insieme; ma egli è
evidente, che questa ragione, se po trebbe valere per il testamentum in calatis
comitiis, non può certo applicarsi al testamentum per aes et libram, che non ha
più il carattere di una legge. Fu questo il motivo, per cui ho creduto didover
cercare la causa prima di questa mas sima nella stessa dialettica fondamentale,
a cui si informa il diritto primitivo di Roma. 551 - bare il patrimonio alla
famiglia agnatizia ed alla gente; il testamento invece, che prevalse nel ius
quiritium, non è più il testamento delle genti patrizie, ma è già
un'applicazione dell'atto quiritario per ec cellenza, ossia dell'atto per aes
et libram, che si ispira al prin cipo: uti legassit, ita ius esto. In quella
prevale ancora lo spirito conservatore dell'antico gruppo patriarcale: mentre
in questo già campeggia la fiera individualità del quirite, la cui volontà
solenne mente manifestata deve essere legge, anche per il tempo in cui avrà
cessato di vivere (1). A cið si aggiunge, che la successione legittima e la
testamentaria, nella struttura organica del ius quiritium, muovono da un con
cetto fondamentale compiutamente diverso. Mentre infatti la suc cessione
legittima prende le mosse dal ius connubii, ed è quindi una conseguenza
dell'organizzazione giuridica della famiglia romana, il testamento invece, che
prevalse nel diritto quiritario, fu un'ap plicazione del principio: « qui nexum
faciet mancipiumque, uti lingua nuncupassit, ita ius esto »; come tale, esso
prese le mosse dal ius commercii, e fu considerato come un mezzo di disporre
libe ramente delle proprie cose (2 ). Fu sopratutto questa circostanza del
l'essere le due istituzioni partite nella loro elaborazione giuridica da un
concetto fondamentale diverso, che impedì alle medesime di con fondersi e di
compenetrarsi insieme; poichè è un carattere della dialet tica quiritaria, che
gli istituti giuridici, una volta separati, obbediscano ciascuno al proprio
concetto ispiratore, nè sogliano mai confondersi con un altro, che si informi
ad un concetto compiutamente diverso. Tale sembra appunto essere la
significazione della celebre regola del giureconsulto Paolo: « ius nostrum non
patitur eundem in paganis et testato et intestato decessisse, earumque rerum
natu raliter inter se pugna est, testatus et intestatus » (3 ). Per verità (1)
Quanto al carattere diverso di queste due successioni vedi il cap. III, § 4, in
cui si discorre della successione testamentaria, ed il $ precedente relativo
alla successione legittima. (2) Questo carattere speciale del testamento per
aes et libram è attestato, ancorchè solo di passaggio, da Cic., De orat., I, 57,
§ 245; ma è poi dimostrato all'evidenza da ciò, che questo testamento ebbe ad
essere ritenuto come un negozio, che compie vasi fra testatore ed erede, e in
cui la volontà del testatore dominava sovrana. (3) Paolo, Leg. 7, Dig. (50-17).
Secondo il PadELLETTI, Storia del dir. rom., pag. 201, questa massima sarebbe
invece una conseguenza della superiorità esclusiva della successione
testamentaria sulla legittima; ma questo non è ancora un motivo adeguato per
impedire che le due eredità si confondessero fra di loro. 552 sarebbe stato
illogico, che quel diritto, il quale in tutto il suo svi luppo tenne sempre mai
distinte fra di loro le obbligazioni e i trasferimenti di proprietà, di cui
quelle erano partite dal concetto primitivo del nexum e questi da quello del
mancipium, avesse pui consentito, che concorressero insieme due istituzioni, le
quali muove vano da concetti fondamentali anche più distanti fra di loro.
Questo quindi fu uno dei casi in cui la logica quiritaria non volle piegarsi
alle nuove esigenze, e si limitò ad introdurre una eccezione a fa vore del
testamento dei soldati. 428. Qui intanto cade in acconcio di esaminare
brevemente un'altra gravissima questione, quella cioè della precedenza, che nel
diritto primitivo di Roma abbia avuto la successione legittima o la successione
testamentaria. Sull'autorità del Sumner Maine, suole essere generalmente
seguita l'opinione, che nella evoluzione storica del diritto romano dovette
precedere la successione ab intestato, poichè la possibilità del testa mento,
anche nel diritto romano, avrebbe cominciato dall'essere am messa soltanto in
quei casi, in cui non vi fosse figliuolanza, e poi sarebbe stata estesa anche
agli altri casi (1). Mentre ritengo, che questa opinione possa essere conforme
al vero, per quanto si rife risce al periodo gentilizio, nel quale il
testamento non dovette essere, che un mezzo per perpetuare la famiglia ed il
suo culto, per il caso in cui non vi fossero dei figli, crederei invece, che
essa non sia con forme all'evoluzione storica, che ebbe ad avverarsi nel ius
quiritium. Sonvi infatti degli indizii, che ci inducono ad affermare, che nel
ius quiritium penetrd dapprima il testamento, mentre la successione legittima
vi fu solo introdotta più tardi, e che il testamento ebbe fin dal principio una
prevalenza incontrastata sulla successione le gittima. È noto infatti, che
Ulpiano dice espressamente, che la suc cessione legittima fu introdotta dalle
XII Tavole, mentre queste invece avrebbero confermata la successione
testamentaria; il che indica appunto, che il testamento era già comune ai due
ordini, e aveva già subito l'elaborazione del ius quiritium, mentre la suc
cessione legittima non sarebbe penetrata nel diritto comune, che colla
legislazione decemvirale. Anteriormente a quest'epoca la suc cessione
legittima, per ciò che si riferisce agli agnati ed ai gentili, (1) SUMNER
MAINE, L'ancien droit, pag. 186. 553 doveva probabilmente essere esclusivamente
propria delle genti pa trizie, le cui consuetudini in quest'argomento erano
certo diverse dalle semplici costumanze della plebe (1). Appare poi fino
all'evidenza dalle espressioni stesse delle XII Tavole, che la successione
testamentaria ha una prevalenza indiscutibile sulla successione legittima, in
quanto che quest'ultima non può verificarsi, che quando manchi il testa mento
(si intestato moritur); il qual concetto perdurò poi per tutto lo svolgimento
storico del diritto civile romano (2 ). In cid abbiamo un'altra prova, che il
ius quiritium non deve essere considerato unicamente, come il frutto di
un'evoluzione lenta e graduata delle istituzioni giuridiche, a misura che ne
occorra il bisogno, ma piuttosto come il frutto di una selezione su materiali
giuridici preesistenti. In esso infatti istituzioni più antiche penetra rono
talvolta più tardi di altre, la cui formazione nella realtà dei fatti doveva
essere più recente. Così, ad esempio, la successione le gittima, che fu certo
la prima a svolgersi nell'ordine dei fatti, fu l'ul tima a penetrare nel ius
quiritium, mentre il testamento, che era stato ultimo a comparire, fu il primo
ad esservi accolto, come quello che meglio rispondeva a quella potente
individualità giuridica, che era il quirite. — Cid apparirà anche più evidente
trattando del si stema delle actiones, le quali, mentre furono le prime a
formarsi nell'ordine dei fatti, furono invece le ultime ad essere elaborate nel
primitivo ius quiritium. (1 ) ULP., Fragm., XI, 3; XXVII, 5; L. 130, Dig.
(50-16 ). (2) La prevalenza della successione testamentaria sulla legittima nel
diritto civile romano è provata da una quantità grande di passi di
giureconsulti, fra i quali mi limito a citaro i seguenti: « quamdiu possit
valere testamentum, tamdiu legitimus non admittitur » (Paolo, L. 89, dig. 50,
17); « quamdiu potest ex testamento adiri hereditas, ab intestato non defertur
» (Ulp., L. 39, dig. 29, 2). 554 CAPITOLO VI. Le legis actiones e la storia
primitiva della procedura civile romana. $ 1.- Le origini della procedura ex
iure quiritium. 429. Quella tecnica giuridica, di cui già si riscontrarono le
traccie nelle varie parti del ius quiritium, appare anche più rigida e se vera
nella parte, che si riferisce alla procedura delle legis actiones. È qui
sopratutto, ove l'elemento giuridico del fatto umano compare del tutto isolato
e disgiunto da ogni elemento estraneo, e ove l'ela borazione giuridica
dell'antico diritto ebbe a spingersi a tal punto di tecnicismo da rendere
difficile alle nostre menti il comprenderne i concetti direttivi, e la logica
inesorabile, a cui obbedi nella pro pria formazione. Alla difficoltà intrinseca
dell'argomento si aggiun sero poi altre cause, che contribuirono a mantenere in
questa parte una quantità di dubbii e di incertezze, la quale non potè del
tutto essere dileguata dalla scoperta delle istituzioni di Gaio, dalla
ricchissima letteratura, che in seguito alla medesima ebbe a svolgersi
sull'argomento (1). È noto infatti, in base alle attestazioni concordi degli
antichi au tori, che la parte dell'antico diritto, relativa alla procedura
delle legis actiones, ebbe ad essere custodita ed elaborata dal collegio dei
pontefici, anche dopo le XII Tavole, e continuò cosi ancora a co e (1) Anche
qui non mi propongo di dare una bibliografia completa: ma piuttosto di indicare
le opere, di cui ho potuto giovarmi per il punto speciale di vista, a cui mi
collocai in questo lavoro. Fra esse citerò lo ZIMMERN, Traité des actions,
trail. Etienne, Paris 1843; BONJEAN, Traité des actions chez les Romains, Paris
1845; il KELLER, Il processo civile romano e le azioni, trad. Filomusi-Guelfi,
Napoli 1872; BETHMANN-HOLLWEGG, Der röm. Civilprocess in seiner geschichtl.
Entwichelung, 3 vol., Bonn 1864-66, e sopratutto il primo, che tratta delle
legis actiones; BEKKER, Die Aktionen d. röm. Privatrechts, 2 vol., e sopratutto
il vol. I, pag. 18-74; KAR LOWA, Der röm. Civilprocess zur Zeit d.
Legisactionen, Berlin 1872; BUONAMICI, La storia della procedura civile romana,
Pisa 1886, e sopratutto il 1°, da pag. 15 a 86; JHERING, L'esprit du droit
romain, tome 36, pag. 312 a 343; MuiraEAD, Histor. Introd., pag. 181 a 235;
Zocco-Rosa, Le palingenesi della procedura civile romana, Roma 1887; WLASSAK,
Römische Processgesetze, Leipzig 1888. 555 stituire per qualche tempo un
segreto di professione e di casta. Pomponio infatti attribuisce ai pontefici di
aver modellate le legis actiones, in base alla legislazione decemvirale; egli
anzi dice con Gaio, che di qui sarebbe provenuta la denominazione di legis
actio nes, le quali poi per la prima volta sarebbero state rese di pubblica
ragione da Gneo Flavio, segretario di Appio Claudio (1). La notizia poi, che ci
pervenne di queste legis actiones, è molto imperfetta; poichè lo stesso Gaio,
che è forse il solo che ebbe a discorrerne di proposito, ci descrive il sistema
delle legis actiones nell'ultimo stadio del suo svolgimento, e quindi si limita
alla enu merazione ed alla descrizione dei varii modi o genera agendi, al
lorchè questi furono definitivamente formati, senza farci assistere alla
progressiva formazione di essi, salvo quel poco, che egli ci dice, circa la
introduzione della legis actio per condictionem. A ciò si aggiunge, che Gaio,
discorrendo di un sistema di procedura già andato in disuso ai suoi tempi, si
limita a cenni assai generali, i quali per giunta ci pervennero anche con
gravissime lacune, quali quelle relative alla iudicis postulatio, ed alla
condictio (2 ). 430. Da questa notizia, per quanto imperfetta, si possono
tuttavia ricavare alcune illazioni, che, per quanto generali, sono perd impor
tantissime per la ricostruzione della prima procedura quiritaria, che fu
senz'alcun dubbio quella delle legis actiones. È certo anzitutto, che anche in
questa parte il primitivo ius qui ritium non venne creando speciali procedure,
per i varii casi, che si presentavano; ma parti invece da certe forme tipiche
di proce dura, che i pontefici od il magistrato venivano poi accomodando ai
casi particolari, per guisa che le primitive legis actiones costitui scono,
secondo l'esatta espressione di Gaio, altrettanti modi o genera agendi, di cui
ciascuno poteva comprendere una varietà di azioni particolari (3 ). Noi
sappiamo in secondo luogo, che il sistema delle legis actiones è decisamente
informato al concetto, secondo cui la procedura per ogni controversia, che
percorresse tutti i suoi stadii, viene a divi dersi in due parti essenziali, di
cui una compievasi in iure, cioè (1) Pomp., Leg. 2, § 6, Dig. (1, 2 ); Gaio,
IV, 11. (2) V. Gaio, IV, 17, ove manca il foglio, in cui egli doveva trattare
dell'actio per iudicis postulationem, e passare poi a discorrere della legis
actio per condictionem. (3) Gaio, IV, 12, scrive:, lege agebatur modis quinque
etc. 556 davanti al magistrato, e l'altra invece seguiva davanti al giudice
singolo od al corpo collegiale dei giudici, al quale le parti potevano essere
rimesse dal magistrato. Mentre in iure si decideva, se in quel determinato caso
si potesse far luogo all'applicazione della legis actio, e si dava alla
fattispecie la configurazione giuridica delle me desima; in iudicio invece
giudicavasi della ragione e del torto fra le parti contendenti, in base alla
configurazione giuridica, che la controversia aveva assunto davanti al
magistrato (1). Ci consta infine, che le legis actiones si dividevano in due ca
tegorie, ispirate ad un concetto compiutamente diverso, in quanto che vi erano
quelle, che miravano a fissare il punto in questione e ad ottenere la decisione
del medesimo, e costituivano così la pro cedura, che potrebbe chiamarsi
processuale o contenziosa; e quelle invece, che miravano all'esecuzione del
giudicato, e costituivano così la procedura esecutiva. Nella prima categoria
noi troviamo la legis actio sacramento e la iudicis postulatio, alle quali
venne ad ag giungersi più tardi la legis actio per condictionem; mentre nella
seconda la vera procedura di esecuzione è costituita dalla manus iniectio, che
è diretta contro la persona del debitore condannato o confesso, poichè solo in
pochi casi, determinati dalla legge o dal costume, è accordata la pignoris
capio (2). (1) Ho già accennato altrove n ° 243, pag. 296 e seg., come la
distinzione fra il ius ed il iudicium debba considerarsi come una conseguenza
necessaria di ciò, che la pubblica giurisdizione del magistrato non estendevasi
dapprima a tutte le con troversie civili e penali, ma comprendeva soltanto
quelle, che eransi sottratte alla giurisdizione domestica e gentilizia, per
essere deferite alla giurisdizione del magi strato. Di qui la conseguenza, che
ogni controversia civile ed ogni accusa penale davano anzitutto luogo ad una
questione preliminare, da decidersi in iure, in cui trattavasi di vedere, se la
controversia, o se il delitto, di cui si trattava, potessero dare argomento ad
un iudicium. Di qui le espressioni di actionem dare, iudicium dare. Questa
distinzione pertanto, fra il ius ed il iudicium, non ha nulla che fare colla
separazione tra il fatto ed il diritto: ma mira in certo modo a sceverare le
questioni, che debbono essere lasciate alla giurisdizione domestica ed agli
arbitra menti privati, da quelle, che debbono essere giudicate a secundum legem
publicam ». (2) Questa distinzione fra la procedura contenziosa e la procedura
di esecuzione non è espressamente indicata in Gaio, il quale si limita a dare
come caratteristica delle legis actiones, che esse, ad eccezione della pignoris
capio, si compievano in iure, cioè davanti al magistrato; ma tale distinzione è
comunemente accettata e può dedursi dalla circostanza, che Gaio comincia in
effetto a discorrere delle azioni, che si potrebbero chiamare processuali, e
poi viene a parlare delle procedure esecu. tive, ancorchè queste fossero certo
più antiche della legis actio per condictionem. In questo stato di cose, la
questione fondamentale, che pre sentasi all'investigatore delle origini della
procedura quiritaria, sta in cercare, se il sistema delle legis actiones debba
ritenersi creato di pianta dopo la legislazione decemvirale ed in base alla
medesima, o se invece debba ritenersi costruito e modellato con materiali giu
ridici già preesistenti (1). A questo proposito ho cercato di dimostrare a suo
tempo, che già fin dal periodo regio, cosi nei giudizii penali come nei civili,
si possono trovare le traccie di quella separazione fra il ius ed il iudicium,
che venne poi ad essere fondamentale nel sistema delle legis actiones, e che
dovettero fin d'allora già esistervi delle pro cedure consuetudinarie,
certamente analoghe a quelle, che compa riscono più tardi col nome di legis
actiones. Che anzi abbiam visto eziandio essere probabile, che sopratutto
all'epoca serviana, in cui si cominciò ad elaborare un ius quiritium, comune al
patriziato ed alla plebe, e si modello l'atto quiritario per eccellenza, che
era l'atto per aes et libram, siasi pure iniziata la formazione di una
procedura propria per le questioni di carattere quiritario. Le prime origini di
tale procedura sembrano accennate dalla tradizione, che at tribuisce appunto a
Servio Tullio, di aver distinto i giudizii pubblici dai privati, e di aver
ritenuto per sè la cognizione delle contro versie di maggior importanza, mentre
avrebbe affidato a giudici scelti nell'ordine dei senatori, la risoluzione
delle controversie di minor importanza. È infatti questa tradizione, che unita
alla considerazione del grande movimento legislativo, che dovette ve rificarsi
in quell'epoca, rende assai verosimile l'opinione di co loro, che farebbero
rimontare a Servio Tullo l'origine del tribu che egli ci dice essere stata
introdotta per l'ultima. Cfr. BUONAMICI, Op. cit., pag. 19 e 20. (1) È questa
la questione, che fu di recente presa in esame dallo Zocco-Rosa, Palingenesi
della procedura civile romanı, Roma 1887. Egli ridurrebbe le teorie in
proposito enunciate a tre, cioè: 1) a quella che vuol fare uscire la primitiva
procedura dal seno stesso della religione e del ius sacrum; 2) alla teoria, che
egli chiama della preesistenza delle legis actiones alle XII Tavole; 3 ) e alla
teoria della discendenza delle medesime dalle XII Tavole. Egli viene alla
conclusione ammessa dalla generalità degli autori, che prima delle XII Tavole
moribus agebatur, mentre posteriormente lege agebatur. Passa poi a cercare le
origini della primitiva proce dura consuetudinaria presso i popoli di origine
Aria, e questa sarebbe ricerca di grande interesse; ma forse per ora non si
hanno ancora materiali sufficienti per giungere ad una conclusione definitiva) nale quiritario dei centumviri, quella dei
iudices selecti, ed anche la prima distinzione fra l'actio sacramento e la
iudicis postulatio; di cui quella avrebbe aperto l’adito al centumvirale
iudicium, e questa invece alla nomina di arbitri o di giudici, scelti dal
novero dei iudices selecti. Questi indizii tuttavia, che accennano alla for
mazione di una procedura quiritaria, anteriore alle XII Tavole, non impediscono
punto, che la medesima abbia dovuto subire un rima neggiamento in tutte le sue
parti, di fronte ad un avvenimento cosi importante per il diritto privato di
Roma, quale fu quello della le gislazione decemvirale. Non parmi quindi, che
possano essere respinte le attestazioni con cordi degli antichi autori, secondo
cui la procedura civile, se non creata, dovette almeno essere rimaneggiata, in
base alla legislazione decemvirale, per opera del collegio dei pontefici, e che
in quell'oc casione appunto le actiones, essendo state accomodate alla legge, abbiano
assunta la denominazione caratteristica di legis actiones. Che anzi da questo
fatto parmi si possa indurre con fondamento, che la parte del ius quiritium,
relativa alle legis actiones, dovette essere l'ultima ad essere elaborata dai
veteres iuris conditores, al lorchè già erasi formato un vero ius quiritium, e
che, ciò stante, questa parte, per essere sopraggiunta più tardi, quando le
altre già erano formate, non potè ridursi ad una semplice incorporazione di
consuetudini processuali già preesistenti, ma dovette già essere il frutto di
una selezione e di una elaborazione, a cui le medesime furono sottoposte. Nė
può ritenersi improbabile, che questa elabo razione abbia potuto essere l'opera
degli stessi pontefici, quando si ritenga, che essi da una parte erano i
custodi delle tradizioni delle genti patrizie e personificavano in certo modo
lo spirito conserva tore delle medesime, e dall'altra furono senz'alcun dubbio
i creatori della tecnica giuridica, e i primi maestri alla cui scuola si forma
rono i grandi giureconsulti della Repubblica e dei primi secoli del l'Impero.
Parmi anzi, che questa elaborazione dei pontefici, giure consulti e patrizii ad
un tempo, valga a spiegare quel doppio carattere dell'antica procedura romana,
la quale nelle proprie forme e nei proprii vocaboli richiama ancora
l'organizzazione patriarcale, mentre sotto un altro aspetto è già un capolavoro
di tecnica giuridica, che corrisponde mirabilmente alle altre parti del diritto
privato romano e al concetto del quirite, ispiratore del medesimo. A quel modo
in somma, che i veteres iuris conditores, trascegliendo fra le forme di
matrimonio e di negozii già preesistenti nelle consuetudini delle - 559 genti
italiche, riuscirono a sceverarne un connubium ed un com mercium ex iure
quiritium, e a richiamare l'uno e l'altro a certe forme tipiche e solenni, che
costituirono il diritto esclusivamente proprio della comunanza quiritaria: cosi
essi, operando una scelta fra i modi di procedere, che già potevano essersi
formati nei rap porti fra i capi di famiglia, e in quelli fra essi ed i loro
dipendenti, riuscirono a ricavarne una procedura tipica, che potè essere consi
derata come propria della comunanza quiritaria. Anche qui pertanto i materiali
certo erano preesistenti; ma il primitivo diritto romano non li accetto
senz'altro, quali esistevano, il che avrebbe dato ori gine ad una varietà di
procedure, analoga a quella che occorre presso gli altri popoli primitivi; ma
li sottopose invece ad una se lezione, riducendoli a quelle forme tipiche, in
cui tanto si compia ceva il genio giuridico romano, come lo dimostra il modo,
in cui fu rono modellate tutte le loro istituzioni giuridiche. Fu in questa
guisa, che si riuscì ad una procedura, la quale, mentre è adatta ad un popolo
agricolo e militare ad un tempo, quale era il popolo romano, porta perd le
traccie evidenti dell'organizzazione patriarcale, da cui usciva, e contiene
cosi un ricordo prezioso delle varie fasi, per cui passo lo stabilimento della
civile giustizia (1). 432. Noi abbiamo infatti veduto a suo tempo, come già
nella stessa organizzazione gentilizia, e sopratutto, allorchè al disopra della
gens venne a svolgersi la tribus, e colla riunione dei vici si formò il pagus,
già potessero sorgere controversie di carattere giu ridico fra i varii capi di
famiglia, ed anche fra essi ed i loro di pendenti, e come il bisogno di venire
alla risoluzione di tali con (1) Questa spiegazione intorno all'origine delle
legis actiones ha il vantaggio di mettere d'accordo fra di loro i passi di
antichi autori, relativi a quest'argomento, che pervennero fino a noi. Con essa
infatti può conciliarsi la vetustissimi iuris ob servantia, a cui accenna
Pomponio, coll'attestazione concorde dello stesso Pomponio e di Gaio, secondo
cui le legis actiones furono composte ed accomodate sulle parole stesse delle
XII Tavole. Questi due caratteri, pressochè in opposizione fra di loro, possono
conciliarsi fra di loro, quando si accetti la teoria, svolta più sotto, di
distin guere nella legis actio, come già nell'atto per aes et libram due parti,
cioè la parte mimica, e la verborum conceptio. È la prima, che costituisce una
vetustissimi iuris observantia, ed è un ricordo delle varie fasi attraversate nello
stabilimento della civile giustizia; ed è la seconda, che potè invece essere
accomodata e composta sulle parole stesse della legge. GAIO, IV, 11; POMP.,
Leg. 2, 8 6 e 24, Dig. (1,2). 560 troversie, abbia potuto dare origine a
certimodi di procedura, che col tempo dovettero acquistare una vera autorità
consuetudinaria (1). Da una parte si dovette formare una procedura fra i capi
di fa miglia, uguali fra di loro, che nella loro fiera indipendenza non
accettavano altro giudice, che quello che erasi fra loro concordato, il quale,
anzichè giudice diretto della controversia, lo era invece della scommessa, con
cui cercavano di rafforzare l'affermazione so lenne della propria ragione.
Questa è quella procedura, che presso i romani fu ridotta ad una forma tipica,
e denominata actio sacra mento, le cui traccie trovansi non solo fra le genti
italiche, ma anche fra le elleniche, e presso i popoli Arii dell'India (3).
L'altra invece fu una procedura, la quale ricorda ancora uno stato di privata
violenza, e che probabilmente dovette svolgersi nei rapporti fra i vincitori ed
i vinti, e più tardi nei rapporti fra la classe superiore dei padri, dei
patroni, dei patrizii, e quella infe riore dei servi, dei clienti e dei plebei.
Essa nelle proprie origini dovette essere una effettiva manus iniectio, ma
poscia fu richiamata ad una significazione giuridica, e significò l'esercizio
anche violento della potestà giuridica spettante a una persona, come lo
dimostra il fatto, che essa continuò anche più tardi ad essere adoperata dal
padrone sul servo, dal padre sul figlio, ed anche dal patrono sul liberto (3 ).
Or bene entrambe queste forme di procedere, che certo ricordano un periodo
anteriore di organizzazione sociale, entrarono nella com pagine del ius
quiritium, e vi furono modellate per modo da cor rispondere alle altre parti di
esso. La prima fu adottata come azione tipica, allorchè trattasi di istituire
un giudizio fra quiriti: come tale essa mira a serbare la più scrupolosa
imparzialità ed ugua glianza fra i contendenti, non sapendosi ancora chi possa
essere il vincitore e chi il soccombente. La seconda invece fu adottata come
azione tipica, allorchè trattasi di procedere all'esecuzione contro chi abbia
subita una condanna, o confessato il proprio debito. (1) Quanto alla primitiva
formazione delle actiones, nei rapporti fra i capi di fa miglia della stessa
tribù e in quelli fra i capi famiglia e i loro dipendenti, vedi ciò, che si è
detto nel lib. I, cap. V, § 3º, pag. 130 e segg. (2 ) V. in proposito lib. I,
nº 104, pag. 135, nota 14. Cfr. il SUMNER MAINE, Early history of institutions,
Lect. IX; e lo Zocco- Rosa, Op. cit., pag. 209 e seg. (3 ) V., quanto alle
prime origini della manus iniectio, lib. I, nº 106, pag. 137. Cfr. CAPUANO,
Storia del diritto romano, Napoli 1878; Cugino, Trattato storico della
procedura civile romana, pag. 116; BuonamiCI, Op. cit., pag. 58. - 561 433. Di
qui provennero i caratteri compiutamente diversi del l'actio sacramento e della
manus iniectio. Nella prima abbiamo una procedura fra eguali; quindi i con
tendenti sono in certo modo attori e convenuti ad un tempo: sono le persone,
fra cui si discute, che recansi dinanzi al magistrato. Esse fingono un
combattimento fra di loro; affermano con identiche parole il proprio diritto;
fanno le medesime scommesse di 50 o di 500 assi, secondo il valore della
controversia; sono ugualmente obbligati a dare garanzia (vindicias dare) se
siano ammessi al possesso della cosa, che forma oggetto della controversia. Lo
scru polo nel mantenere l'uguaglianza non potrebbe spingersi più oltre, ed è
uguale anche il pericolo per l'uno e per l'altro dei contendenti; poichè la
somma scommessa si perde dal soccombente, e mentre nell'epoca gentilizia era
forse consacrata ad usi religiosi, nel periodo storico deve andare invece a
benefizio del pubblico erario (1). L'altra procedura invece, rozza, violenta
suppone una assoluta disuguaglianza fra i contendenti. Quella stessa legge, che
procedeva titubante e quasi diffidente per il timore dioffendere l'indipendenza
dei contendenti, non teme invece di accordare diritti illimitati e pres sochè
senza confine al creditore contro il iudicatus ed il confessus. Essa non si
preoccupa dei beni di quest'ultimo, ma dà diritto al creditore di procedere
contro la persona del debitore, di imporre sopra di lui la sua manus, e di
trascinarlo avanti al magistrato per farsi aggiudicare la persona del debitore
stesso. Questi invece non ha diritto di reagire contro la violenza del
creditore (a se de pellere manum ) né di agere pro se lege; ma solo di nominare
un altro, che faccia valere le sue ragioni (vindicem dare) (2 ). Mentre l'actio
sacramento è come una rappresentazione simbolica (vis festucaria) di quel
combattimento effettivo (vis realis), a cui poteva dar luogo una privata controversia
fra capi di famiglia indipendenti e sovrani, dell'interporsi fra essi di un vir
pietate gravis, dell'affermazione scambievole della propria ragione, fatta dai
contendenti e rafforzata da una scommessa, della quale deve esser giudice
quegli a cui le parti si sono rimesse; la manus in (1) Tutti questi caratteri
della legis actio sacramento si possono ricavare dalla descrizione di
quest'azione fatta da Gaio, IV, 13 a 17, per quanto la medesima presenti molte
lacune, sia quanto all' actio sacramento in personam, che quanto all'actio
sacramento relativa agli immobili. (2 ) Gaio, Comm., IV, 21 a 26. G. CARLE, Le
origini del diritto di Roma. 36 562 iectio invece è la procedura del vincitore
contro il vinto, di colui, che ha il diritto, contro colui, il quale ne è
privo, di quegli, che può dettare la legge, contro colui, che deve subirla.
Anche la controversia è una lotta: quindi se durante la me desima deve essere
serbata l'uguaglianza, allorchè invece essa è finita, il vincitore può stendere
la propria mano sul vinto e questi è forzato ad arrendersi. Era poi naturale,
che la procedura di un popolo agricolo e militare ad un tempo, per cui l'asta
era il sim bolo del giusto dominio, venisse eziandio ad essere simboleggiata in
una specie di lotta e di conflitto. 434. È tuttavia degno di nota, che i
pontefici, nell'accogliere e nel modellare queste forme di procedura, si
attennero ad un processo del tutto analogo a quello, che abbiam visto essersi
seguito nel fog giare le forme dei negozii giuridici del diritto quiritario. Al
modo stesso, che nell'atto quiritario per aes et libram può ravvisarsi una
parte, che compievasi « dicis gratia, propter veteris iuris imitationem » e che
costituiva cosi un ricordo del passato, ed una parte veramente viva, che era la
nuncupatio, mediante cui un medesimo atto poteva accomodarsi ad una varietà
grandissima di negozii, anche di carattere compiutamente diverso; cosi anche
nella procedura primitiva, miri essa ad istituire un giudizio od alla
esecuzione di un giudicato, possono facilmente distinguersi due parti, che
compiono una funzione compiutamente diversa. Havvi anzitutto una parte, che
potrebbe chiamarsi mimica, che si presenta sempre uniforme ed uguale, la quale
è mantenuta evidentemente più come un ricordo del passato, che per l'utilità
effettiva, che si possa ricavarne; come lo dimostra la disinvoltura, con cui si
accettano gli espedienti, che mirano a semplificarla. Questa parte nell'actio
sacramento è rappresentata dal recarsi sul luogo, ove trovasi l'oggetto in
contestazione, se trattisi di immobile; dal portare davanti al magistrato la
cosa mobile o una particella di essa; dal simbolo della festuca, che
adoperavasi hastae loco; dalla finta manuum consertio, dalla mutua provocatio,
e dal sacra mentum. Nella manus iniectio invece essa è rappresentata dal fatto
di adprehendere manu qualche parte del corpo del proprio debitore. È questa
parte mimica, la quale, costituendo in certomodo una soprav vivenza, col tempo
divento pressochè incomprensibile, e potè talvolta essere posta in derisione,
anche da autori antichi e fra gli altri da Cicerone. E tuttavia a notarsi, che
lo stesso Cicerone, allorchè scrisse 563 nell'interesse del vero e non in
quello del cliente, non dubito di dichiarare, che era di grande diletto questa
impronta di vetusta, inerente alle legis actiones, e di affermare che: «
actionum ge nera quaedam maiorum consuetudinem vitamque declarant» (1). Queste
formalità infatti, conservateci da un popolo, che, più di qualsiasi altro,
seppe sceverare l'essenzialità del fatto umano dalle circostanze accidentali
del medesimo, sono anche oggidi un impor tantissimo documento del modo di
pensare e di agire. che era proprio delle primitive genti italiche. Intanto
perd, accanto a questa parte, il cui mantenimento era l'effetto dello spirito
conservatore del popolo romano, eravi eziandio la parte veramente viva ed
attuosa, e questa consisteva in quelle concezioni verbali, solenni e precise
(conceptiones verborum, verba concepta, certa verba ), che servivano a dare una
configurazione giuridica alle varie fattispecie e a farle entrare nella veste
rigida delle legis actiones (2). Era in questo modo, che, malgrado la va rietà
infinita delle fattispecie, si riusciva ad isolare l'obbiettività giuridica
delle medesime e a richiamarle tutte a pochissimi genera agendi. Questo era
l'ufficio, a cui attesero dapprima i pontefici, poi il pretore, e da ultimo i
giureconsulti, e fu con questo magistero che la sola actio sacramento fini per
essere accomodata a tutte le controversie di carattere quiritario, e la sola
manus iniectio poté bastare a qualsiasi procedura esecutiva. Vuolsi quindi
conchiudere, che queste due legis actiones costi tuiscono in certo modo il
nucleo centrale della procedura quiritaria. Esse sono quelle, in cui si può
leggere il modo di pensare e di agire del primitivo quirite, fiero,
indipendente, geloso del proprio (1) Co., Pro Murena, vol. 2, scherza
spiritosamente sull'actio sacramento, relativa alla proprietà di un fondo,
dimostrando come le forme primitive avessero complicata una procedura, che
avrebbe potuto essere semplice e pronta. Egli però nel De orat., I, riconosce
eziandio quanto possa essere di dilettevole e di utile in questo studio
dell'antico, allorchè scrive: « Nam si quem aliena studia delectant, plurima
est in omni iure civili, et in pontificum libris, et in XII Tabulis
antiquitatis effigies, quod et verborum prisca vetustas cognoscitur, et
actionum genera quaedam maiorum con suetudinem vitamque declarant. (2) A mio
avviso, la conceptio verborum nella legis actio tiene il posto stesso della
nuncupatio nell'atto per aes et libram. Ciò sarà meglio dimostrato più sotto,
nº 449, ed apparirà così la costanza e la coerenza dei processi, a cui suole
atte nersi il primitivo diritto romano. 564 diritto, finchè la sentenza non sia
pronunziata; umile, sottomesso, pronto ad abbandonare se stesso al proprio
creditore, allorchè sia stato soccombente nella lotta giudiziaria. Intanto
però, accanto a queste due procedure fondamentali, se ne vennero svolgendo
delle altre, che sembrano sussidiarne l'azione, e quindi importa di ri cercare
lo svolgimento storico, così della procedura contenziosa, che della procedura
esecutiva. § 2. – Lo svolgimento storico della procedura contenziosa nel
primitivo diritto. 485. Se l'actio sacramento costituisce il nucleo centrale
della procedura contenziosa nel sistema delle legis actiones, noi sappiamo
però, che attorno ad essa fin dai primi tempi si vennero svolgendo la iudicis
postulatio fra i cittadini, e la recuperatio fra cittadini e stranieri, e che
alle medesime più tardi venne ancora ad aggiun gersi la legis actio per condictionem.
Importa quindi di determinare la funzione, che questi vari genera agendi
esercitarono sulla pri mitiva procedura, e di ricercare eziandio l'ordine
progressivo della loro formazione. Delle antiche legis actiones, quella,
intorno a cui ci pervennero maggiori notizie, è certo l'actio sacramento. Noi
sappiamo della medesima, che generalis erat, in quanto che poteva essere
adoperata per tutte le controversie, per cui non fosse stata introdotta altra
speciale procedura, si trattasse di agere in rem, od anche di agere in personam.
Essa quindi sembra riportarci ad un'epoca, in cui non doveva esistere ancora la
distin zione fra l'azione in rem e l'azione in personam; il che però non
impedisce, che essa presentasse delle differenze nelle solennità e nelle
espressioni adoperate, secondo che trattavasi di agere in rem o di agere in
personam. Cosi pure in essa non vi è ancora la distin zione netta e precisa fra
l'attore ed il convenuto, ma i contendenti sono attori e convenuti ad un tempo,
come lo dimostra l'identità delle espressioni da essi adoperate. Infine essa
non conduce alla ri soluzione diretta della controversia, ma piuttosto a
giudicare quale dei due contendenti abbia affermato il vero e quale il falso, e
quale perciò debba essere soccombente nella scommessa fra i medesimi
intervenuta (utrius sacramentuin iustum, utrius sacramentum in iustum sit);
cosicchè in essa il soccombente, oltre al perdere in 565 - direttamente la lite,
corre anche il rischio di perdere la scom messa (1). Noi sappiamo poi, quanto
alle controversie che dovevano rivestire la forma di questa legis actio, che
essa costituiva un preliminare indispensabile per tutte le cause di carattere
veramente quiritario, le quali erano sottoposte al centumvirale iudicium, ed
anche per quelle relative alla verità ed allo stato delle persone (caussae
liberales), quanto alle quali noi sappiamo, che il sacramentum era solo di
cinquanta assi (quinquagenarium ), e che esse erano devolute ai decemviri
stlitibus iudicandis (2 ). Tutti questi caratteri imprimono un suggello di
vetustà all'actio sacramento, e ci richiamano a quella potente sintesi, che è
carat teristica del primitivo ius quiritium, in cui non distinguesi ancora fra
diritto personale e reale, fra attore e convenuto, fra la provo. catio e la
litis contestatio. Si comprende quindi, che la mimica, che la precede, sia come
un ricordo dei varii stadii, per cui passò lo stabilimento della civile
giustizia, fra i capi di famiglia, e che essa, trapiantata dall'organizzazione
gentilizia nella città, sia stata rico nosciuta come l'azione tipica del
diritto quiritario. Ciò spiega eziandio come essa, mentre è certamente la più
antica, sia stata anche la più duratura delle legis actiones; poichè, quando le
altre furono abolite, continud pur sempre ad essere mantenuta qual preliminare
al centumuirale iudicium, cioè davanti a quel tribunale dei cen tumviri, che
può essere considerato come il tribunale essenzial mente quiritario, sia per il
modo, in cui era composto, sia per le controversie, che gli erano sottoposte,
che erano appunto quelle, che riguardavano la posizione di ciascun cittadino
nel censo, e quindi anche nello Stato (3). (1) GAIO, IV, 13 a 17: Cic., Pro
Caecina, 33, ove dice, che in una causa da lui trattata per la libertà di una
certa Aretina fu deciso, che il suo sacramentum era iustum. Di qui le
espressioni: iusto sacramento contendere, iniustis sacramentis petere. (2) La
necessità della legis actio sacramento, per una causa da istituirsi davanti al
centumvirale iudicium, è dimostrata dal fatto che, secondo Gaio, IV, 31, anche
dopo l'abolizione delle legis actiones, fu ancora permesso di agire in questa
guisa: a domini infecti nomine, et si centumvirale iudicium futurum sit ». È
poi lo stesso Gaio, IV, 14, il quale ci attesta, che le cause di stato erano
precedute dall'actio sacramento, in quanto che egli afferma, che in base alle
XII Tavole il sacramentum per una questione di libertà era solo di cinquanta
assi. L'uso del sacramentum nelle caussae liberales è poi anche confermato da
Cic., Pro Caec. 33. (3) La competenza del centumvirale iudicium, per le cause
di carattere eminente. - 566 436. È invece ben poca cosa quello, che ci
pervenne intorno alla legis actio per iudicis postulationem. Dal palimpsesto di
Verona non si potè ritrarne, che il titolo, mentre da Valerio Probo si ricavo
la formola, che dovette adoperarsi per ottenere la nomina di un giudice o di un
arbitro: iudicem arbitrumve postulo uti des. Nelle XII tavole poi sono indicati
varii casi, in cui trattandosi di controversie di carattere indeterminato, che
suppongono una certa libertà di apprezzamento, e che talvolta sono anche
designate col vocabolo di iurgia, piuttosto che con quello di lites, si propone
la nomina di uno o più arbitri (1). Bastano tuttavia questi pochiindizii per
dimostrare le molte e gravi differenze, che la contraddistinguono dall'actio
sacramento. Essa in fatti già suppone la persona dell'attore distinta da quella
del conve nuto; suppone una amministrazione della giustizia già organizzata, in
cuiil magistrato procede alla designazione del giudice; conduce alla
risoluzione diretta della controversia; non trae più con sè, per quanto almeno
noi possiamo saperne, il pericolo di perdere una scommessa. Essa parimenti,
come lo indica la sua denominazione, non conduce più alla rimessione dei
contendenti avanti ad un tribunale collegiale, come quello dei centumviri e dei
decemviri; ma dà origine ad un iudicium privatum, nel vero senso della parola,
in cui il giudice o l'arbitro, secondo un antichissimo costume ro mano,
dovevano essere concordati fra le parti (2 ). Essa infine differisce eziandio
dall'actio sacramento per il ca rattere di indeterminatezza delle controversie,
che ne formavano oggetto, le quali supponevano una certa libertà di
apprezzamento 1 mente quiritario, è attestata dall'enumerazione fatta di tali
cause da Cic., De orat., I, 38. (1) I casi, in cui la legge decemvirale parla
di nomine di arbitri, sono quelli relativi al regolamento di confini: « si
iurgant de finibus, tres arbitros dato »; alla divisione dell'eredità fra i
coeredi (actio familiae erciscundae); all'apprezzamento del danno dato
dall'acqua piovana (arbiter aquae pluviae arcendae) e qualche altro caso
analogo. Vedi KELLER, Il processo civile romano, $ 7, pag. 25; ORTOLAN, Expli
cation historique des Institutes de Iustinien, Paris 1883, III, pag. 494. (2 )
Sebbene non si possa dire, che il centumvirale iudicium si contrapponga in
senso stretto al iudicium privatum, tuttavia occorrono passi di autori, in cui
i centumviri sono contrapposti al privatus iudex, come in Cic., De or., I, 38,
39; in Quint., Instit. or., 10, n ° 115, ove scrive: « alia apud centumviros,
alia apud iudicem privatum in iisdem quaestionibus ratio ». Cfr. ZIMMERN,
Traité des actions, pag. 36, nota 3 e 4. 567 - — nel giudice o nell'arbitro
chiamato a risolverlo; cosicchè, di fronte al iudicium directum, asperum,
simplex, che era istituito col l'actio sacramento, essa iniziava di preferenza
un iudicium od un arbitrium moderatum, mite, in cui cominciava ad essere
lasciata qualche parte a quell'equità e buona fede, che erano escluse dalle
forme rigide e precise del primitivo ius quiritium. Al qual pro posito vuolsi
eziandio notare, che quando si confronti la denomi nazione attribuita da Gaio a
questa legis actio, che è quella di iudicis postulatio, colla formola serbataci
da Valerio Probo, secondo la quale si domanda un giudice od un arbitro, è
lecito di inferirne, che in essa dovette avverarsi uno svolgimento storico.
Essa dapprima infatti dovette implicare soltanto la nomina di un iudex, sotto
il quale vocabolo si comprendeva anche l'arbiter. Più tardi invece, e
probabilmente in seguito alla legislazione decemvirale, la quale am metteva per
certe questioni anche la nomina di arbitri, essa dovette porgere occasione a
quella distinzione fra iudicium ed arbitrium, la quale presentava ancora tante
incertezze all'epoca di Cicerone. Questi caratteri presi insieme mi
condurrebbero alla conclusione, che la iudicis postulatio non presenti più quell'impronta
di vetustà, che è propria dell'actio sacramento, e non possa perciò considerarsi
come una procedura di carattere patriarcale, trasportata a Roma. Essa invece
dove già formarsi sotto l'influenza della vita cittadina, e dove probabilmente
essere una conseguenza della stessa formazione del ius quiritium. Siccome
infatti, secondo appare dalle leggi, che ne governarono la formazione, il ius
quiritium non costitui mai tutto il diritto di Roma, ma solo quella parte di
esso che corrisponde al concetto del quirite, e che primo era riuscito a
consolidarsi mediante il riconoscimento di una lex publica. Cosi ne consegui
necessariamente, che anche le controversie, che potevano sorgere fra i
cittadini, si divi [Cic., Pro Mur.,osserva, scherzando, che i giuristi non si sono
ancora potuti accordare circa l'uso delle parole di iudex o di arbiter. La
difficoltà di allora non è ancora scomparsa oggidì; poichè la distinzione fra
iudicium e arbitrium, fra il ius strictum e l'aequitas, fra la lis e il iurgium,
è una di quelle questioni di limiti, che non saranno mai definitivamente
risolte. Cfr. KELLER. Quanto alla differenza fra iudicium strictum e arbitrium,
mi rimetto al “De exceptionibus in iure romano” (Torino)] dessero naturalmente
in due categorie. Vi erano da una parte le controversie di carattere
eminentemente quiritario, relative al caput, alla manus, al mancipium, all'atto
per aes et libram, ai negozii rivestiti della forma del medesimo (nexum,
mancipium, testamentum ), all'eredità e alla tutela legittima; le quali, per
poggiare sopra una legge o sopra un atto od un negozio di carattere quiritario,
potevano ridursi in certo modo ad una affermazione o ad una negazione, ed
accomodarsi così alle forme rigide dell'actio sacramento. Vi erano invece
dall'altra parte quelle controversie, le quali, o per l'indeterminatezza del
loro oggetto, o per supporre una certa latitudine di apprezzamento in chi era
chiamato a giudicarle, o per dipendere più dalla consuetudine, che da una vera
legge, abbisogna vano in certo modo più di un arbitro, che non di un giudice,
nel significato ristretto, che ebbe ad assumere più tardi questo vocabolo.
Quest'ultime pertanto richiedevano una procedura più semplice, non accompagnata
dai pericoli dell’actio sacramento, in quanto che le parti contendenti possono
anche in parte essere nella ragione ed in parte essere nel torto. Quindi è
probabile, che siano state appunto queste controversie, le quali, al punto di
vista quiritario, hanno minor importanza, che Servio Tullio comincia a deferire
al iudex privatus, introducendo appunto per esse la iudicis postulatio. Così
pure non è punto improbabile, che nella precisione ed esattezza del linguaggio
le prime controversie di carattere quiritario si indicassero col vocabolo di
vere lites, mentre le altre fossero designate piuttosto col vocabolo di iurgia.
Siccome poi col tempo, una parte di quel diritto, che in certo modo esiste allo
stato fluttuante intorno al nucleo centrale del ius quiritium, fini per essere
attratto dal medesimo, e per entrare eziandio nelle forme rigide e precise del
diritto quiritario. Cosi si può comprendere, come col tempo la iudicis
postulatio, che dapprima ha un carattere sussidiario, puo entrare anch'essa a
far parte del sistema delle legis actiones. Ciò anzi dovette avvenire naturalmente,
allorchè la legislazione decemvirale accolge la iudicis arbitrive postulatio,
come lo dimostrano le controversie, [L'opinione qui svolta, circa i rapporti
fra l'actio sacramento e le iudicis postulatio, si avvicina a quella enunziata
da KARLOWA (“Der röm. Civilprozess”) per cui essa prescrisse al magistrato di
addivenire alla nomina di un giudice, o di uno o più arbitri. Da quel punto la
iudicis postulatio entra a far parte del sistema della procedura civile romana.
Costitui ancor essa una legis actio; che anzi, per il minor pericolo che
offriva ai contendenti, dovette acquistare un largo svolgimento, come lo
dimostra Voigt, il quale attribuisce un maggior numero di azioni alla iudicis
postulatio, che alla stessa actio sacramento. Questo svolgimento poi fu
sopratutto favorito dalla distinzione, che si opera nella stessa iudicis
postulatio, fra il iudicium e l'arbitrium, il quale ultimo, accompagnato dalla
clausola “ex fide bona”, fini, secondo l'attestazione di Cicerone, per essere
applicato, dopo la scomparsa delle legis actiones, in tutti quei negozii, in
cui domina la buona fede, quali sarebbero la società, la fiducia, il mandato,
la vendita, la locazione, e simili. Questi negozii infatti, negli inizii, sono
ancora esclusi dalla cerchia del ius quiritium, e come tali non potevano formar
tema dell'actio sacramento, ma solo della iudicis postulatio, alla quale
probabilmente dovette appartenere la clausola conservataci dallo stesso
Cicerone – “uti ne propter te fi demve tuam captus fraudatusve siem.” Pervenuto
a questo punto nella storia della primitiva procedura romana, parmi opportuno
di arrestarmi alquanto all'esame di un istituto, il quale, malgrado le sue
modeste apparenze, dovette tuttavia esercitare una potente influenza sullo
svolgimento della medesima. Esso è quell'antichissimo istituto, che è indicato
col vocabolo di “reciperatio”, ed al quale si rannoda senz'alcun dubbio quella
categoria di giudici, o di arbitri, che vengono sotto il nome di recuperatores.
Si è veduto in proposito, che nelle consuetudini delle genti italiche era
indicata col vocabolo di “reciperatio” quella clausola, che soleva aggiungersi
aitrattati di amicitia e di hospitium fra le varie genti o tribù, con cui
stipulavasi fra esse un diritto di reciproca actio, cosicchè i cittadini di un
popolo potevano chiedere ed ottenere ragione nel territorio e presso il magistrato
di un altro. Era con [Voigt (“XII Tafeln”) assegna alla iudicis arbitrive postulatio
ben XXXV azioni, di cui IX apparterrebbero agl’arbitria, e il rimanente ai iudicia
propriamente detti. Cfr. MUIRHEAD, Histor. introd., -- Cic., De offic.] questa
clausola, che la protezione giuridica, in base ad un trattato (foedus),
comincia ad oltrepassare la cerchia degli abitanti di un territorio per
estendersi a quelli di un altro, con cui si fosse in amichevoli rapporti. Essa
poi aveva questo di particolare, che pone in certo modo di riscontro i diritti
dei due popoli, e rendeva anche necessario il ministero di più recuperatores,
tolti anche da popoli diversi, in quanto che i medesimi doveno rappresentare
l'elemento cittadino e lo straniero ad un tempo. Quando poi si ritenga, che
Roma usci essa stessa dalla confederazione di genti di origine diversa, e fin
dalle proprie origini cerco di accrescere le proprie forze colle amicizie e
colle alleanze coi po poli vicini, sarà facile a comprendersi, come in essa la “reciperatio”
sia venuta a cambiarsi in una istituzione permanente, e ha col tempo assunto il
carattere di una procedura regolare, da applicarsi nei rapporti fra i cives ed
i peregrini. Cio è dimostrato dal fatto, che gl’antichi autori indicano talvolta
la “recuperatio” col vocabolo caratteristico di actio, e che in Roma i
recuperatores, dopo essere stati giudici fra i cives ed i peregrini, si
cambiarono in una categoria di giudici, che potevano essere nominati anche per
le controversie inter cives, e sopratutto dal bisogno sentito più tardi di
creare un “praetor peregrinus” “qui inter peregrinos ius diceret.” La reciperatio
s’applica anche al ius pacis, nei rapporti fra le varie genti. Se fosse lecito
di paragonare istituti, che si svolsero a distanza di migliaia di anni,direi
che la reciperatio, nel passaggio dall'organizzazione gentilizia alla città nel
mondo an tico, corrispose a quella istituzione, che pure ebbe a svolgersi nel
periodo di forma zione degli Stati moderni, e che si esplicò col nome analogo
di reciprocanza di diritto, la quale consisteva nell'accordare agli stranieri
quella stessa protezione di diritto, che fosse accordata ai nostri concittadini
nello stato, a cui gli stranieri ap partenevano. In quei tempi antichissimi la “reciperatio”,
come nei tempi moderni la reciprocanza, concorsero alla formazione dell'idea di
una comunanza di diritto fra i diversi popoli, che presso i romani prenderà il
nome di ius gentium, e che nell'età moderna e dal Savigny indicata col nome di
comunanza di diritto, la quale, secondo il grande fondatore della scuola
storica, dove essere posta a fondamento del diritto internazionale. V. Savigny,
“Traité de droit romain,” trad. Guenoux. Quanto ai rapporti poi, che
intercedono fra il concetto dell'antico ius gentium, e questa comunanza di
diritto fra gli stati moderni, mi rimetto ad altro mio lavoro col titolo, “La
dottrina giuridica del fallimento nel diritto internazionale private” (Napoli) come
pure all'opera, “La vita del diritto nei suoi rapporti colla vita sociale” (Torino).
Quanto all'influenza, che esercitarono in Roma la recuperatio ed i recupera [Queste
circostanze intanto rendono probabile la congettura, che in Roma, fin dai più
antichi tempi, dovettero trovarsi di fronte due forme di procedura. L'una,
propria dei quiriti, e perciò adatta al rigore del diritto quiritario; l'altra
invece, applicabile ai rapporti fra cittadini e stranieri, e percid più
semplice e spedita. Siccome pero uno stesso magistrato sovraintendeva dapprima
all'una e all'altra, cosi esso veniva ad essere posto nella posizione singolare
di proseguire da una parte l'elaborazione del ius quiritium e di sentire
dall'altra l'influenza del diritto degli altri popoli, e di potere cosi
giudicare dell'opportunità e del bisogno di trasportare nella procedura romana
certe semplificazioni, che sono invece proprie della reciperatio. Di qui una
scambievole influenza di queste due forme di procedura, la quale continua
ancora, allorchè l'accrescersi delle controversie condusse a dividere la
iurisdictio fra due pretori, che nella loro stessa denominazione di “praetor
urbanus” e di “praetor peregrinus” portano le traccie del dualismo, che essi
rappresentano. E questo il motivo per cui, a quelmodo stesso, che i
recuperatores finirono per essere accolti nelle categorie dei giudici fra i
cittadini, così certe procedure, che prima dovettero essere seguite nei
rapporti fra i cives e i peregrini, finirono, come più semplici e spedite, per
essere accolte eziandio nel diritto civile di Roma. Che anzi la coesistenza di
queste due procedure dovette, a mio tores, i quali diventarono col tempo una
istituzione romana e sono i modesti preparatori della maggior opera, che doveva
poi compiere il praetor peregrinus, istituito probabilimente nell'anno 512
dalla fondazione di Roma (KELLER, “Il processo civile romano”, ZIMMERN, “Traité
des actions,” JHERING, “L'esprit du droit romain”, KarLOWA, “Röm. Civil
prozess,” Bouché-LECLERQ, “Instit. rom.,” MUIRHEAD, Histor. introd., quanto
all'applicazione della recuperatio inter cives. Keller nota a ragione che il
riguardare la legis actio come propria soltanto dei cittadini romani, è una
asserzione più volte prodotta, ma non pienamente giustificata. Noi sappiamo
anzi da Gaio, che coll'actio sacramento poteva procedersi, anche davanti al
praetor peregrinus, al modo stesso che il praetor urbanus nomina dei
recuperatores, anche per cause inter cives; ma ciò venne appunto ad essere
l'effetto di questa esistenza contemporanea delle due procedure, la quale
condusse ad uno scambio fra di esse. Intanto qui non può esservi dubbio, che
negli inizii le cause relative allo stretto diritto quiritario, quali erano
quelle, che si recano davanti al centumvirale iudicium, non potevano essere che
assolutamente proprie dei cives romani o dei latini, o dei peregrini, a cui
fosse stato esteso il ius quiritium.] avviso, servire a preparare lentamente
certi effetti, chenegli avvenimenti posteriori appariscono pressochè repentini.
Cosi, ad esempio, essa dovette essere una delle principali cause, per cui,
accanto al concetto rigido del ius civile, si dovette venir gradatamente
delineando nella mente del pretore e dei giureconsulti, che lo circondavano, il
concetto più largo di un ius gentium, il quale, una volta formato, doveva poi
recare cosi profonde trasformazioni nel primo. Cosi pure egli è probabile, che
il pretore in questa procedura, non essendo vincolato ai terminidi una legge,
dovette avere una maggior libertà nel formolare giuridicamente la controversia,
il che lo pose in condizione di poter lentamente preparare, fin da quel tempo,
in cui fra i cittadini duravano ancora le legis actiones, quel sistema delle
formulae, il quale col tempo dove poi essere accolto dal ius civile. Infine,
per non spingere troppo oltre le induzioni, parmi eziandio probabile, che
quella “egis actio per condictionem,” che ultima comparve nel sistema delle
legis actiones, siasi modellata sulla condictio, che certo già esisteva nella
procedura della recuperatio. Noi sappiamo infatti, che questa era appunto
iniziata, mediante una condictio, in quanto che i contendenti condicebant diem,
ossia fis savano di comparire fra XXX giorni, avanti il magistrato, per ot
tenere la nomina dei recuperatores; come lo dimostrano le espres sioni, che
occorrono nelle XII Tavole, di « status, condictus dies cum hoste », il quale
doveva essere sacro per modo da essere un legittimo impedimento a comparire in
un giudizio fra cittadini. Sembra tuttavia, che vi fosse una differenza fra la
condictio nella procedura inter peregrinos, e la condictio come legis actio
inter cives; poichè, mentre nella prima era in certo modo concordato il giorno
di comparire avanti al magistrato, nella seconda invece, secondo la descri
zione di Gaio, era l'attore, che intimava al convenuto (actor adver sario
denuntiabat) di comparire fra trenta giorni avanti almagistrato ad iudicem
capiendum (2 ). (1) Quanto all' influenza del praetor peregrinus nel preparare
il sistema delle formole e dell'editto provinciale nell'estendere il concetto
del ius gentium è da ve dersi il Glasson (“Étude sur Gajus,” Paris). Cfr.
Carle, “L'evoluzione storica del diritto romano” (Torino). Secondo Voigt, XII
Tafeln, la legge II, Tav. II, fra le altre cause di legittimo impedimento a
comparire avanti il magistrato, accenna appunto lo status, condictus dies cum
hoste. Cfr. quanto alla “condictio cum hoste,” il MuruEAD]. Anche intorno alla
legis actio per condictionem ci per vennero notizie molto scarse, in quanto che
il manoscritto di Gaio si presenta manchevole in quella parte, in cui egli,
accingendosi a parlare della legis actio per condictionem, sembrava accennare
alle origini di essa. Da quel poco tuttavia, che egli ne dice, si può ricavare:
lº che la sostanza di questa legis actio consisteva nella condictio, o meglio
nella denuntiatio, che l'attore faceva al conve nuto di comparire fra XXX
giorni ad iudicem capiendum; 2º che nella medesima quella scommessa, che
occorreva nel sacramentum, appare surrogata dalla sponsio et restipulatio
tertiae partis, per cui il soccombente, oltre l'importo della controversia,
deve corrispondere al vincitore il terzo della medesima a titolo di pena; 3º
che infine essa fu introdotta prima da una lex Silia per le obbligazioni di una
certa pecunia e poi estesa dalla lex Calpurnia alle obbligazioni di una certa
res: leggi, che sogliono essere assegnate approssima tivamente al principio del
sesto secolo di Roma (anni 510 a 520 U. C.). Quanto alla causa, per cui la
condictio ha ad essere intro dotta, essa forma oggetto di discussione fra i
giureconsulti, i quali ha ad osservare, che per le controversie di questa
natura possono servire le anteriori legis actiones. Ricomponendo tuttavia
questi pochi indizii col resto, che sappiamo delle legis actiones, si possono
ricavare alcune importanti illazioni. È certo anzitutto, che la condictio non e
del tutto nuova, nè quanto al nome, nè quanto alla sostanza, e non è punto
improbabile, che fosse una imitazione della condictio, propria della procedura
inter cives et peregrinos. Essa poi e accolta nel sistema delle legis actiones
per le controversie, che volgevano o intorno ad una certa pecunia o intorno ad
una certa res. Quindi, riguardando obbligazioni relative ad un certum, essa
dovette restringere il dominio della [Gaio. Quanto alla stipulatio et restipulatio tertiae
partis essa non è accennata nel testo mutilato di Gaio, relativo alla legis
actio per condictionem. Ma noi possiamo indurne la esistenza da ciò, che egli
dice altrove, che questa stipulatio et restipulatio tertiae partis fa parte
dell’actio certae creditae pecuniae propter sponsionem. Ora l' “actio certae
creditae pecuniae”, nel sistema formolario, succedette alla legis actio per
condictionem. Quindi se essa ritiene questo carattere, che certamente sa di
antico, e richiama sott'altra forma la scommessa del “sacramentum”, dove certo
ereditarlo dalla medesima. È poi lo stesso Gaio accenna ai dubbi fra i
giureconsulti circa il motivo, per cui fu introdotta questa nuova legis action]
actio sacramento, anzichè quello della iudicis postulatio, la quale e propria
delle controversie di carattere indeterminato. Per tal modo, la condictio si
presenta come una semplificazione dell'actio sacramentu. Abolisce tutta la
parte mimica del sacramentum. Sostituisce, quanto alle obbligazioni aventi per
oggetto un certum, il giudice singolo al tribunale popolare dei centumuiri. Infine
surroga alla scommessa, che anda a beneficio dell'erario, la sponsio et
restipulatio tertiae partis, che va invece a benefizio del vincitore delle lite.
Quanto alla causa storica, che può aver determinata questa semplificazione
nella procedura relativa alle obbligazioni di un certum, essa deve certamente
essere cercata in qualche importantissima tra sformazione, che dovette
avverarsi nell'epoca della Lex Silia e Calpurnia, quanto alle obbligazioni di
carattere quiritario. Qui per tanto viene ad aprirsi un largo campo alle
congetture. Ma è possibile di giungere a qualche risultato probabile, se si
tenga dietro al processo storico del ius quiritium nella parte relativa alle
obbligazioni. A questo proposito si è dimostrato a suo tempo, che la forma
primitiva dell'obbligazione ex iure quiritium e quella del l'atto per aes et
libram, che piglia il nome di nexum. Colla medesima il debitore sottoponeva
senz'altro la sua persona a tutti i rigori della manus iniectio, per il caso
che non avesse soddisfatto il suo debito a scadenza. In questa parte però il
ius quiritium subi una trasformazione profonda, allorchè la Lex Poetelia tolse
di mezzo gl’effetti speciali del nexum, negando al medesimo l'efficacia di
un'esecuzione immediata contro la persona del debitore. Da quel momento il
nexum cessa di costituire quell'ingens vinculum fidei che prima e, e comincia a
cadere in disuse. Ma sottentrarono in suo luogo e vece altri modi,
esclusivamente proprii dei cittadini romani, per assumere l'obbligazione di una
certa pecunia, o di una certa res, quali furono ad esempio la “sponsio” o “stipulatio”,
la expensi latio o litteris obligatio, o infine la mutui datio, di cui formano
oggetto quelle cose “quae numero, pondere acmensura constant.” Per tutte queste
obbligazioni di un certum, non essendo più consentita la immediata manus
iniectio, che un tempo era con- [Cfr. in Keller e il Buonamici, “Proc. civ. rom.”]
-sentita per il nexum, non puo più esservi altra procedura, che quella
dell'actio sacramento, la quale, per il pericolo, che vi e inerente, non puo a
meno di riuscire grave per i creditori di una somma o cosa certa, il cui
credito risulta in modo solenne da atti riconosciuti dal diritto civile. Si
comprende pertanto, che prima la lex Silia, per una certa pecunia, e poi la lex
Calpurnia, per ogni certa res, abbiano sostituita all’actio sacramento la legis
actio per condictionem, in cui evvi ancora un vestigio dell'antica scommessa
nella sponsio et restipulatio tertiae partis, la quale tuttavia non va più a
benefizio dell'erario, ma è un compenso e come un indennizzo per il vincitore
ed una pena per il soccombente. Siccome poi nel diritto romano ogni istituto,
che riesce a pene trare nella compagine di esso, ben presto si rivendica il
posto, che gli compete, e riceve tutto lo sviluppo, di cui può essere capace;
così la condictio, appena fu ammessa come legis actio, essendo più semplice,
più spedita, meno pericolosa dell'actio sacramento, fini per richiamare a sè
stessa tutte le controversie relative all'obbligazione di un certum, mentre
l'actio sacramento si circoscrive a tutte quelle controversie, che hanno il
carattere di una vindicatio, intesa in largo senso. Di qui consegui col tempo,
che il vocabolo di “condictio”, nel linguaggio giuridico, divenne pressochè
sinonimo di “actio in personam”, mentre l'actio sacramento finì per significare
di preferenza l'actio in rem o la vindicatio. Ha quindi tutte le ragioni Gaio
di accusare di improprietà l'uso, che facevasi ai suoi tempi, del vocabolo di “condictio”
per indicare l' “actio in personam”, poiché l'essenza della primitiva condictio
non consiste tanto nel dari oportere, quanto piuttosto nella denuntiatio diei.
Ma ciò punto non toglie, che di fatto, in virtù di un lungo processo storico,
verificatosi nel sistema delle legis actiones, l'actio sacramento si riduce alle
sole vindicationes, mentre la condictio e in sostanza divenuta la forma, sotto
cui facevansi valere tutte le actiones in [(1) Cf. il nexum -- ove trattasi
appunto del comparire della mutui datio e della stipulatio, in surrogazione del
nexum primitivo, che anda in disuso. Anche il MUIRHEAD stiene un'opinione
analoga a quella proposta nel testo, come lo dimostra il fatto, che egli tratta
contemporaneamente della introduzione della stipulatio e della legis actio per
condictionem. Ho però già notato, come quest'autore ritenga col Leist la
stipulatio come importata dalla Grecia, opinione che non credo da ammettersi.] personam,
e quindi realmente veniva ad essere come un sinonimo dell'actio in personam. Intanto
dalle cose premesse può esser ricavato il seguente svolgimento storico della
procedura contenziosa nel sistema delle legis actiones. Le due procedure più
antiche, le quali rimontano probabilmente ad epoca anteriore alla fondazione
stessa di Roma, sono l'actio sacramento e la reciperatio. Quella è la procedura,
che e accolta come esclusivamente propria dei quiriti, per le questioni di
carattere quiritario, e quindi negli inizii dove essere la legis actio
fondamentale del ius quiritium, nello stretto senso della parola. Questa invece
si applica nei rapporti inter peregrinos ed anche in quelli inter cives et
peregrinos. Siccome però a Roma e continuo l'attrito fra i cives ed i
peregrini, e l'una e l'altra procedura segue davanti allo stesso magistrato,
così ne venne, che le due procedure finirono per esercitare scambievole
influenza l'una sull'altra. Cosicchè col tempo le forme più semplici e spedite
della procedura inter cives et peregrinos finirono talvolta per essere
trasportate ed accomodate alle esigenze del diritto civile romano. Così, ad
esempio, allorchè fra i cittadini, accanto alle vere lites di carattere
quiritario, che per la precisione ed esattezza di questo diritto, potevano
risolversi affermando o negando, si svolsero delle questioni di carattere più
indeterminato, che chiamavansi piuttosto iurgia, accanto all’actio sacramento,
che continua ad essere l'a zione tipica del ius quiritium, comincia a svolgersi
la iudicis postulatio, la quale fini colla legislazione decemvirale per entrare
eziandio nel novero delle legis actiones. Per tal guise, le controversie, che
hanno per oggetto un certum, si trattano coll'actio sacramento. Quelle invece,
che riguardano un incertum, danno argomento alla iudicis postulatio. Ognuna poi
di queste due legis actiones fini- [Gaio, dopo aver detto, che l'essenza
dell'antica legis actio per condictionem consiste nella denuntiatio diei,
aggiunge: « nunc vero non proprie condictionem dicimus actionem in personam,
qua intendimus dari oportere; nulla enim hoc tempore eo nomine denuntiatio fit.”
Gaio ha ragione dal suo punto di vista, perchè l'essenza dell'actio in personam
ai suoi tempi sta non più nella denuntiatio diei, ma nel dari oportere. Ma
storicamente lo scambio della parola si era operato, perchè nel sistema delle
legis actiones la condictio era divenuta la forma, sotto cui si proponevano
tutte le actiones in personam aventi per oggetto un certum.] per subire una
suddistinzione. Quando infatti, accanto all'actio sacramento, penetra la
condictio, la prima fini per restringersi alle vindicationes, e questa invece attire
a sè tutte le actiones in personam, che avessero per oggetto un certum, e
divenne quasi si nonimo di actio in personam. Cosi pure, allorchè nel diritto
civile romano penetra in parte la considerazione dell'aequitas e della bona
fides, nel seno della iudicis postulatio si opera pure una distinzione; poichè
essa puo dar luogo o alla nomina di un giudice o a quella soltanto di un
arbitro, secondo la larghezza maggiore o minore dei poteri, che era loro
affidata nell'apprezzamento della causa e nel tener conto delle considerazioni
di equità. Intanto però, mentre si ha questo svolgimento storico, è probabile,
che tanto la iudicis postulatio quanto la condictio, almeno in parte, imitano
delle procedure, che già si applicano nei rapporti inter cives et peregrinos.
Fu in questa guisa, che, già sotto la veste ferrea delle legis actiones, si
vennero preparando tutte quelle distinzioni di actiones, che poterono poi
acquistare un libero svolgimento col sistema delle formulae. Tali sono le
distinzioni fra la vindicatio e la condictio; fra l'actio in rem e l'actio in
personam; fra le actiones stricti iuris e bonae fidei; fra le actiones certae e
le incertae; fra l'actio nesin ius conceptae e le actiones in factum. Si può
quindi conchiudere che, anche in tema di procedura, tutte le varietà e
distinzioni delle azioni sembrano procedere da un'unica forma tipica, che è
quella dell’ “actio sacramento”, la quale fu il nucleo centrale, intorno a cui
si svolge la procedura contenziosa del diritto; ma che accanto alla medesima
fin dai primi tempi fuvvi la reciperatio per le controversie inter cives et
peregrinos, dalla quale dovettero essere mutuate certe procedure più semplici,
come quella della “condictio”. E poi eziandio in questa procedura, che dove
essere applicata dal praetor peregrinus, che comincia a prepararsi quel
concetto del ius gentium, e quel sistema delle formulae, che esercitarono poi
tanta influenza sul diritto civile romano. Mentre nella procedura contenziosa il
diritto cerca di mantenere la più rigorosa IMPARZIALITA fra i contendenti, esso
invece apre l'adito ad una procedura ben più decisiva, allorchè la lotta fra i
contendenti giunse al suo termine, e trattisi di procedere all'esecuzione
contro il soccombente. Anche il linguaggio giuridico sembra allora richiamare
un'epoca di violenza. Ciascuno e vindice del proprio diritto. Noi veniamo cosi
a trovarci di fronte alla manus iniectio e alla pignoris capio, di cui quella
sembra avere il carattere di una esecuzione contro la persona del debitore, e
questa invece il carattere di una pignorazione contro i beni del medesimo. È
tuttavia facile lo scorgere, che nella procedura quiritaria si preferisce
nell'esecuzione di procedere contro la persona del debitore, anzichè contro i
beni del medesimo. Infatti nel diritto il modo generale di esecuzione per le
obbligazioni viene ad essere la manus iniectio, che è diretta appunto contro la
persona. Mentre la pignoris capio riveste in certo modo il carattere di un
privilegium, e viene così ad essere ristretta a pochissimi casi, che furono
specificamente introdotti o dalla legge o dal costume, e determinati dalla
natura del credito. Intanto nell'una e nell'altra procedura già apparisce
evidente, che se i vocaboli richiamano ancora l'uso della forza, questa pero
viene già ad essere regolata dall'impero della legge; poichè è questa che
determina i varii casi, in cui può ricorrersi all'uno od all'altro modo di
esecuzione. Incominciando dalla manus iniectio, noi troviamo che la medesima,
nel ius quiritium, compare sotto forme diverse, che vogliono essere tenute ben
distinte fra di loro. Una prima forma di essa era la manus iniectio, a cui puo appigliarsi
il padrone col servo, che avesse cercato di sottrarsi al suo potere, e questa
era una conseguenza della podestà del padrone sul servo, di cui rimasero le
traccie nella “vindicatio in servitutem”. Un'altra forma era quella invece, a
cui dava origine l'obbligazione solenne del “nexum”, in base a cui il debitore,
che non paga a scadenza, poteva, anche senza l'intervento del magistrato,
essere trascinato nella casa del debitore, e quivi essere ridotto a condizione
pressochè servile, fino a che non avesse soddisfatto il proprio debito. Vuolsi
qui aggiungere, che Gaio accenna perfino al dubbio surto fra i giureconsulti,
relativamente alla natura della pignoris capio, che alcuni ritenevano non
essere una legis actio, in quanto che la medesima, sebbene si compiesse certis
verbis, a differenza tuttavia delle altre legis actiones, extra ius
peragebatur, e poteva perfino compiersi *in giorno nefasto*. Questa manus
iniectio rimonta certamente ad epoca anteriore alla legislazione decemvirale,
ed era una conseguenza del rigore dell’obbligazione quiritaria, contratta colle
formedell'atto per aes et libram. Questa e quella manus iniectio, la quale,
applicata sopratutto nei rapporti coi debitori plebei, da origine a quelle
dissensioni civili, a proposito dei nexi, a cui cercò di porre termine la Lex
Poetelia nel 428 di Roma. La Lex Poetelia però non e ancora una vera legis
actio, in quanto che non fondavasi sulla legge, ma derivava direttamente dal
rigore dell'obbligazione quiritaria, assunta colle forme del nexum, nella quale
la volontà manifestata dalle parti costituiva legge, ed implica la condanna del
debitore. Havvi infine quella manus iniectio, che occorre nella legislazione
decemvirale e che costituisce un modo generale di esecuzione contro coloro, che
avessero confessato il proprio debito (aeris confessi), o che avessero subita
una condanna giudiziale per il pagamento di una determinata somma (iudicati vel
damnati). A mio avviso, è solo a quest'ultima, che Gaio attribuisce il
carattere di una vera legis actio, e che egli indica col nome di manus iniectio
iudicati, sive damnati. La severità inumana, a cui poteva giungere la procedura
della [Gaio. L'opinione espressa nel testo fondasi sulla considerazione, che
Gaio restringe evidentemente la legis actio per manus iniectionem ai casi « de
quibus, ut ita ageretur, lege aliqua cautum est », e si limita a fare una
rassegna storica delle varie leggi, le quali, incominciando da Le XII Tavole, avrebbero
consentito questo mezzo di esecuzione. Nella sua esposizione pertanto non si
accenna più a quella rigorosa procedura, di origine pressochè contrattuale, a
cui dava origine il primitivo nexum; tanto più che la medesima era andata in
disuso fin dal tempo, in cui la Lex Poetelia ha tolte di mezzo le conseguenze
speciali del nexum. Non mi sembra quindi il caso di voler forzare le
espressioni di Gaio per far entrare i nexi nella espressione dei iudicati o dei
damnati, adoperata da Gaio. Piuttosto i nexi dell'antico diritto possono
ritenersi compresi negli aeris confessi di Le XII Tavole, dei quali non era più
il caso che Gaio si occupasse. Poichè, se con quel vocabolo si intendevano gli
obbligati col nexum, le disposizioni di Le XII Tavole sono state abrogate, e se
si intendevano gli in iure confessi, non era il caso di farne una categoria
speciale di fronte al principio – “in iure confessus pro iudicato habetur.” Questa
opinione intanto si differenzia da quella di coloro, che vorrebbero comprendere
i nexi nei damnati, di cui parla Gaio, fra i quali il MUIRHEAD, e da quella
eziandio di coloro, che appoggiati al testo di Gajo, il quale non parla dei
nexi, vorrebbero escludere gli obbligati col nexum dalla procedura della manus
iniectio, e porre imedesimi nella condizione di tutti gli altri debitori, come
Voigt e Cogliolo, nelle note al PADELLETTI, “Storia del dir. rom.,” il quale
pure ha adottato l'opinione del Voigt.] manus iniectio, e probabilmente una
delle cause, per cui la medesima col tempo diventa oggetto di investigazione
curiosa per gli stessi autori latini, i quali hanno cosi occasione di
tramandarci le espressioni testuali di Le XII Tavole a questo riguardo. Allorchè
altri aveva subito condanna per un proprio debito, gli era prima consentita una
specie di tregua (velut quoddam iustitium ), che durava XXX giorni, in cui
doveva avvisare almodo di pagare il debito (conquirendae pecuniae causa ).
Trascorsi i medesimi senza che egli pagasse, il creditore puo porre sopra di
lui la sua manus, condurlo davanti al magistrato, e quivi pronunziare la
formola solenne della manus iniectio. Né al debitore era lecito di depellere
manum a se, né di agere lege pro se, ma solo poteva nominare un vindex, che fa
valere le sue ragioni, dando sicurtà per il processo e per l'eventuale
pagamento del doppio nel caso in cui vincesse l'attore. Intanto il creditore puo
condurre il debitore nel suo carcere, e quivi metterlo in catene, con scelta al
debitore di alimentarsi del suo o di lasciarsi alimentare dal creditore. Questo
arresto durava LX giorni, e negli ultimi III giorni di mercato, compresi in
questo spazio di tempo, il creditore dove condurlo di nuovo davanti al
magistrato, e far pubblica la somma da lui dovuta accid qualcuno potesse pagare
per lui. Che se anche allora non si fosse fatto il pagamento, il creditore
poteva *ucciderlo* o venderlo al di là del Tevere (“capite poenas dabat, aut
trans Tiberim venum ibat”). Ed anzi, se più fossero i creditori, venivano le
famose espressioni conservateci da Gellio – “partis se canto: si plus minusve
secuerunt, se fraude esto.” L'autore, che ci ha serbata più particolare notizia
della procedura esecutiva nel diritto, conservandoci perfino le parole testuali
della legge, è Gellio, Noc. Att., -- dove introduce il giureconsulto Sesto
Cecilio Africano e il filosofo Favorino, a discutere intorno ad alcune
singolari disposizioni del diritto. Interessante discussione, poichè da una
parte abbiamo il giureconsulto, che, riportandosi alle opportunità dei tempi,
cerca di scusare il vigore del diritto. Dall'altra abbiamo il filosofo, il
quale, a nome della ragione, viene combattendone quelle disposizioni, che il
tempo aveva fatto apparire o irragionevoli od inumane. Intanto, a questa
discussione poi dobbiamo la maggior parte di quelle testuali disposizioni di Le
XII Tavole, che a noi siano pervenute, le quali composte insieme colle
informazioni dateci da Gaio, ci porgono le fattezze primitive della manus
iniectio. Si comprende come l'enormezza del potere, che la legge qui accorda al
creditore, lascia increduli gli antichi
ed anche i moderni. Di qui il tentativo recente di Voigt di interpretare la
legge nel senso, che il capite poenas dabat significasse la riduzione in schiavitù
del debitore, e che il partis secanto si riferisse alla ripartizione del prezzo
ricavato dalla vendita, per il caso in cui fossero più i coeredi del creditore.
Certo è, che se noi avessimo soltanto il testo della legge, questo potrebbe
forse consentire questa interpretazione, punto non ripugnando che la legge
attribuisse a quei vocaboli una significazione giuridica, anzichè letterale. Ma
noi, oltre al testo della legge, abbiamo anche il commento, che vi diedero gli
antichi. E questo è tale da escludere qualsiasi interpretazione più benigna.
Noi troviamo infatti presso Gellio, che il giureconsulto Sesto Cecilio, pur
tentando di spiegare il rigore della legge, punto non accenna alla possibilità
di tale interpretazione. Sesto Cecilio dice invece, che il legislatore,
nell'intento di tutelare la fede nei negozii,
introduce una pena, che, per la propria immanità, non puo essere
applicata, come in effetto non lo era mai stata. Voigt, “XII Tafeln”. Egli, ciò
stante, nella ricostruzione della legge VIII della Tav. III, aggiungerebbe alle
parole serbateci da Gellio. “Tertiis nundinis, partis secant” -- le parole “si
coheredes sunt” -- il che vorrebbe dire, che se il debitore era domum ductus da
uno dei suoi creditori, egli non poteva più essere soggetto alla manus iniectio
degli altri; ma intanto se fossero stati più i co-eredi del creditore, che
l'aveva domum ductus, i medesimi potevano, in base alle XII Tavole, procedere
contro di lui soltanto per la quota loro spettante di credito, e perciò
dovevano chiedere il riparto della somma loro dovuta. Questa supposizione è
ingegnosa. Ma è difficile di persuadersi, che una espressione larghissima,
quale e quella di Gellio, puo restringersi ad un caso abbastanza speciale, qual
e quello posto innanzi dal Voigt. Questa interpretazione letterale della legge,
di cui si tratta, non e solo attribuita
alla medesima da Gellio ma eziandio da Quintiliano e da TERTULLIANO -- ma con
parole alquanto vaghe, e coll'ag giunta,pur fatta da Gellio, che la storia non ricorda alcun caso di “sectio
corporis”. “Dissectum esse antiquitus neminem equidem neque legi, neque audiri.”
Parmi poi, che un argomento per questa letterale interpretazione siavi eziandio
in quell'altra disposizione delle XII Tavole. “Si membrum rupit, ni cum eo
pacit, talio esto” -- ove compare in certo modo la stessa tendenza di accordare
a colui che ha subìto un danno per colpa di un altro, una potestà
corrispondente sul corpo di lui. Questa letterale interpretazione ha pure ad
essere sostenuta, col sussidio della giurisprudenza comparata, dal Kohler (“Das
Recht als Culturerscheinung”, Vürzburg) il cui brano relativo è riportato dal
MUIRHEAD. Non può quindi essere il caso di dare alla legge una significazione
diversa da quella, che vi attribuirono gl’antichi, ma piuttosto di cercare,
come mai i decemviri possono giungere ad una disposizione di questa natura.
Tale spiegazione non deve essere cercata tanto nella rozzezza dei costumi
romani, quanto piut tosto in quella logica inesorabile, di cui già sonosi
trovate le traccie nelle varie parti del “ius quiritium”, e sopratutto nel
rigoroso concetto, che questo diritto ha a formarsi dell'obbligazione
personale. Al modo stesso che il diritto quiritario, nella sua logica rude,
trattandosi del dominio, immedesimò in certo modo la cosa, oggetto della
proprietà, colla persona a cui essa appartiene. Così pure esso, nel concepire
il diritto di obbligazione, vide nel medesimo un vincolo strettamente
personale, che stringe pressochè materialmente il debitore al suo creditore
(nexum), senza punto preoccuparsi dei beni, che appartenessero a quest'ultimo.
Se quindi il debitore condannato non soddisfi il debito, la logica del diritto
non si appiglie all'espediente di ripiegarsi sovra i beni del debitore. Procede
diritta per la sua via, e verrà così aggravando i mezzi di co-azione contro il
debitore che non paga, nell'intento di forzarlo ad eseguire il pagamento. Che
se le co-azioni di carattere giudiziale od estra-giudiziale non bastano, questa
logica, fissa nel carattere esclusivamente personale dell'obbligazione, puo
anche giungere fino al l'estremo di accordare al creditore il diritto di
vendere o di *uccidere* il debitore, al modo stesso, che attribuisce al
proprietario la facoltà di distruggere la cosa, che gl’appartiene (ius
abutendi). È tuttavia evidente, che il diritto, accordando simili diritti al
creditore contro il debitore condannato, non intende tanto di accordargli un
diritto reale ed effettivo, quanto piuttosto di attribuirgli efficaci e potenti
mezzi di co-azione. Ciò è dimostrato da tutta la procedura. Lo stesso Kohler
già erasi occupato della questione nel “Shakespeare vor dem Forum der
Jurisprudenz” (Vürzburg), di cui può vedersi un largo resoconto del GIRARD
nella “Nouvelle revue historique.” A compimento di questa notizia ricordo anche
l’interessante saggio di ESMEIN, “Débiteur privé de sépulture, nei « Mélanges
d'histoire de droit” -- ove il diritto del creditore prende un altro singolare
svolgimento, quello cioè di porre un sequestro sul cadavere del debitore, e di
rifiutare al medesimo il riposo della tomba, finchè i congiunti o gl’amici non
ne abbiano pagato il debito. Qui la co-azione adoperata s'appoggia
sull'opinione popolare che l’ANIMA del debitore non trova riposo, finchè il suo
CORPO non riposa nella tomba.] della manus iniectio, dalla necessità nei varii
stadii della medesima della presenza del magistrato, dall'obbligo imposto al
creditore di far pubblico il suo credito e di esporre sul mercato la persona
del debitore. Ed è questo il concetto, che ebbe ad esprimere, presso Gellio, il
giureconsulto Sesto Cecilio dicendo che i decemviri. “eam capitis poenam,
sanciendae fidei gratia, horrificam atrocitatis ostentu, novisque terroribus metuendam
reddiderunt.” Che anzi, prendendo alla lettera l'espressione di Le XII Tavole,
nella parte, che si riferisce alla spartizione del corpo del debitore, appare
perfino di impossibile attuazione, poichè vien dichiarato in frode il
creditore, che tolga dal corpo del debitore una parte maggiore o minore
diquella che gli sia dovuta, il che conferma eziandio l'altra espressione dello
stesso giureconsulto, secondo cui – “eo consilio tanta immanitas poenae
denuntiata est, ne ad eam perveniretur.” Del resto non è questo il solo esempio
di questa logica astratta, propria del diritto, che talora si spinge fino a
tale da non essere quasi più applicabile nel fatto. Il diritto infatti del
creditore sul corpo del debitore trova un riscontro nel diritto al talione,
spettante a colui, di cui fosse stato rotto un membro -- talione che, secondo
l'osservazione da Gellio attrituita al filosofo Favorino, non puo essere più facilmente eseguito che la
spartizione del corpo del creditore in proporzione dei crediti. Cosi pure esso
ha un altro riscontro nel ius vitae et necis, che giuridicamente parlando
spetta al padre sui figli, al marito sulla moglie, al padrone sullo schiavo,
ancorchè in questa parte sia certo, che il rigore del diritto trova dei
temperamenti nel pubblico costume. Non è quindi il caso di inferire da queste
disposizioni l'esistenza di costumi antropofagi presso i romani. Ma soltanto di
scorgere in ciò una nuova prova, che il loro “ius quiritium”, essendo il frutto
di una elaborazione giuridica, la quale mira ad isolare l'elemento giuridico da
ogni elemento estraneo, fini per essere governato da una logica inesorabile,
che tal volta appare non solo inumana, ma perfino inapplicabile nel fatto. Dice
infatti Favorino presso Gellio: “Praeter enim ulciscendi acerbitatem ne
procedere quoque executio iustae talionis potest; nam, cui membrum ab alio
ruptum est, si ipsi itidem rumpere per talionem velit, quaero, an efficere
possit rampendi pariter membri aequilibrium? in qua re primum ea difficultas
est inexplicabilis”. KOHLER dice scherzevolmente, che alla lista delle ipotesi
escogitate per spiegare questa disposizione, ne manca una sola, quella cioè che
i romani sono degli antropofagi. Dal momento poi che il primitivo ius quiritium,
nella sua procedura di esecuzione, ha preso di mira piuttosto la persona del
debitore, che non i beni, che ne costituivano il patrimonio, si comprende, che
esso, nella sua perseveranza tenace, stenta più tardi ad abbandonare la via,
che prima segue. Noi troviamo infatti, che nel posteriore svolgimento della
procedura esecutiva in Roma, mentre il diritto civile nello stretto senso della
parola continua sempre a dirigersi contro la persona, anzichè contro i beni del
debitore, e invece il ius honorarium, il quale soltanto molto più tardi riusci
ad organizzare una procedura esecutiva contro i beni, che costituivano il
patrimonio del debitore. L'una e l'altra circostanza è abbastanza comprovata
dalle atte stazioni di Gaio. Questi infatti, parlando delle legis actiones, ci
fa assistere allo svolgimento storico della manus iniectio nel diritto civile
di Roma, dimostrando, come, sul modello della manus iniectio iudicati, altre
leggi abbiano introdotto una manus iniectio pro iu dicato, ed altre abbiano poi
dato occasione ad una manus iniectio pura, la quale, a differenza delle altre
due, non impede che il debitore potesse “manum a se depellere et lege agere pro
se”, senza ricorrere all'opera di un vindex. Posteriormente poi, la legge
Vallia ristrenge di nuovo i casi, in cui non potevasi manum de pellere e pro se
lege agere, a quei due, che primierano stati introdotti, in cui si agiva o in
base a un giudicato, o contro una persona per cui altri aveva dovuto pagare
qual sicurtà. Di questo, secondo Gaio, rimane una traccia anche dopo
l'abolizione delle legis actiones in ciò, che anche ai suoi tempi colui, col
quale si agisce in base a un giudicato o per aver pagato per esso, «”iudicatum
solvi satisdare cogitur.” Lo stesso Gaio poi, sebbene alla sfuggita, dice
altrove, che l'introduzione della bonorum venditio sole essere attribuita a
Publio Rutilio, il quale dovette essere praetor nel 647 di Roma, e noi
sappiamo, che è appunto con questa bonorum venditio, che si introdusse in Roma
un concorso fra i creditori, non dissimile da quello, che ora ha luogo nella
procedura per fallimento. E solo più tardi, che anche il diritto civile, per
mezzo della lex Iulia de [Gaio. È notabile infatti come Gaio in tutta la sua
esposizione della procedura esecutiva non accenni mai alla esecuzione sui beni
del debitore. Gaio, IV, 35. Quanto a questa procedura contro i beni, vedi
KELLER, “Il processo civ. rom.” e quanto alle analogie, che questo con corso
dei creditori presenta col fallimento, cfr. Montluc, “La faillite chez les
Romains” – ] -cessione bonorum, accordo al debitore il mezzo di evitare
l'esecuzione personale, ricorrendo alla cessio bonorum. Ma anche allora questa
cessio bonorum dove essere consentita dallo stesso debitore, e costitui in
certo modo un benefizio, che gli venne accordato per cansare la esecuzione
personale e per evitare anche l'infamia, da cui questa era accompagnata. Quindi
neppur questa legge aboli intieramente l'esecuzione contro la persona, ma
piuttosto fece in guisa, che essa cadesse in disuso, essendosi introdotto un
mezzo per liberarsi da essa. Parmi poi, che questa preferenza indiscutibile del
ius quiritium per la esecuzione contro la persona del debitore, anzichè contro
i beni spettanti al medesimo, sia stata eziandio la ragione, per cui si
mantenne in così ristretti confini l'applicazione della pignoris capio. Essa
infatti si ridusse ad essere un privilegio per crediti di origine militare (aes
militare, hordearium, equestre), e per crediti di origine religiosa (il prezzo
di un hostia e il nolo di giumento allo scopo di un sacrificio, in dapem). Un
solo caso di pignoris capio lascia traccie durature nella storia delle
istituzioni giuridiche, e fu quello introdotto da una lex praediatoria o
censoria, a favore degl’appaltatori delle imposte, sui fondi che sono gravati
dalle medesime: privilegio di carattere fiscale, che ha un'analogia
incontrastabile col privilegio generale sugl’immobili, che ancora oggidi spetta
al fisco per le imposte dirette. Intanto però sta sempre il concetto, che nel
diritto di Roma è la persona, che risponde direttamente delle proprie
obligazioni, e che la missio in bona deve ritenersi soltanto introdotta dal
pretore. Che anzi è degno di nota, che anche questa procedura sembra negl’inizii
essersi forse introdotta fuori di Roma, come lo dimostra il fatto, che noi la
troviamo descritta dapprima nella “Lex Rubria” de Gallia Cisalpina. Una ragione
di questa preferenza [Quanto all'origine pretoria dell'esecuzione contro i
beni, vedi eziandio LENEL, “Das Edictum perpetuum”, La lex Rubria, Bruns,
Fontes, attribuisce la facoltà di accordare questa missio in bona al solo
pretore della città di Roma, come lo dimostrano le seguenti parole della legge “Praetor”
– “isve qui de eis rebus Romae iure dicundo praeerit, in eum et in heredem eius
de « eius rebus omnibus ius deiicito, decernito, eosque dari bona eorum,
possideri, « proscribique venire iubeto, etc. » Cfr. WLASSAK, “Röm.
Processegesetze”] dell'antico diritto per la persona, anzichè per i beni del
debitore, non potrebbe essa trovarsi nella considerazione, che tutto il
primitivo ius quiritium ha ad essere modellato sul concetto fondamentale del “quirites”,
in quanto era considerato come una individualità integra e completa sotto
l'aspetto giuridico, la cui parola dava origine al “nexum”, e la cui volontà
costituiva una legge, cosi nei negozii tra vivi come nel testamento? Non
abbiamo anche in questo una conseguenza dal punto speciale di vista, a cui
eransi collocati i modellatori del diritto? Basta ora ricomporre insieme queste
varie parti della procedura romana e metterle in movimento ed in azione, per
comprendere come il sistema della “legis actio”, anzichè essere, come
vorrebbero taluni, un complesso di solennità, escogitate dallo spirito sottile
e formalista dei romani, sia stato invece il mezzo più potente ed efficace,mediante
cui venne preparandosi l'elaborazione del diritto civile romano. La “legis actio”
e per cosi esprimerci, il crogiuolo mediante cui l'obbiettività giuridica del
fatto umano puo essere isolata da tutti gl’elementi estranei, ed essere ridotta
cosi a quello stato di purezza, che solo si rinviene negli scritti dei
giureconsulti romani. Siccome infatti ogni diritto, per poter affermarsi in
giudizio, dove passare per lo strettoio della “legis actio”: cosi ne venne, che
con questo sistema prima il pontefice, nel modellare la “legis actio”, poscia
le parti nell'adattare alle medesime la loro controversia. Quindi il magistrato
nel determinare i termini, in cui tale controversia dove essere giuridicamente
concepita. Infine i giudici, che doveno di necessità restringere la loro
decisione al punto di questione che e loro sottoposto, attendeno tutti ad un
medesimo lavoro, che e quello di spogliare una fattispecie da ogni elemento
etico (morale) o religioso, con cui si trovasse implicata, per ridurla ad una
configurazione e ad una formola ESCLUSIVAMENTE LEGALE O GIURIDICA. Siccome poi,
il giudice della controversia, o e tolto dalle varie classi o tribù, come i
centumviri e forse anche i decemviri, o scelto nel l'ordine dei senatori, come
i iudices selecti, o convenuto fra le parti, come gl’arbitri, od anche scelto
in parte fra i peregrini, come i recuperatores. Cosi ne veniva, che
l'elaborazione del diritto in Roma e un'opera collettiva, a cui concorrevano
tutti gl’ordini e le V classi, e che puo perfino sentire l'influenza del
diritto e della procedura, che applicasi dei rapporti fra i cittadini e gli
stranieri. Siccome parimenti tutto questo lavoro e unificato e coordinato per
opera del magistrato, che sovraintende all'amministrazione della giustizia, ed
e poi assecondato dall'opera dei giureconsulti, che venivano racchiudendo in
formole la varietà grandissima dei negozii giuridici. Cosi ne venne, che in
Roma fin dai suoi inizii si trova sapientemente organizzato un sistema di
mezzi, il quale mira ad isolare l'elemento giuridico del fatto umano dagl’elementi
estranei, a consolidare le consuetudini fluttuanti in una forma determinata e
precisa, a richiamare le varietà dei fatti umani a certe forme tipiche e generali.
E in questo modo, che puossono scomparire i contendenti e si sostituirono ai
medesimi dei nomi convenzionali -- Aulus Agerius e Numerius Negidius nella
formola processuale, Titius, Caius, Sempronius, etc. in quella contrattuale --;
che una controversia PARTICOLARE e richiamata a certa forma GENERALE; e che
intanto i concetti primordiali, da cui ha preso le mosse il diritto di Roma,
poterono con una logica perseverante e tenace essere spinti a tutte le
conseguenze, di cui erano capaci. E quindi sopratutto in Roma, che il diritto
potè essere l'espressione della coscienza giuridica di tutto un popolo, un
elemento organico della vita sociale, il frutto di un'elaborazione unica e
varia ad un tempo, la quale obbedisce costantemente a quei processi, i quali,
applicati prima dal pontifice, passarono poscia al praetor ed al giureconsulto,
e non furono neppure abbandonati sotto gli stessi principi. Per tal modo, quel
lavoro di selezione, che erasi in Roma iniziato mediante la legge, le quali,
trascegliendo fra le istituzioni delle varie genti, ne hanno ricavato un
diritto tipico, esclusivamente proprio del quirites, e perciò chiamato “ius
quiritium”, venne ad essere eziandio proseguito nella interpretazione della
legge e nell'amministrazione della giustizia, le quali si sforzarono dapprima
di fare entrare nelle forme determinate dalla legge la varietà sempre crescente
dei rap porti giuridici, a cui dava occasione la convivenza cittadina, e
vennero poi gradatamente ampliando e differenziando le forme stesse, allorchè
esse cominciavano ad essere inadeguate ai bisogni, a cui trattavasi di
provvedere. Per tal modo il “ius quiritium” si allarga ed amplia nel “ius
proprium civium romanorum”; poscia accanto a questo venne svolgendosi il “ius
honorarium”, il quale pur derogando al ius civile ed assimilando nuovi
elementi, li forza tuttavia ad entrare in forme analoghe a quelle già preparate
dal ius civile. È in questa guisa, che il diritto romano, dopo essere stato la
selezione più rigida dell'ELEMENTO ESCLUSIVAMENTE GIURDIICO E NON ETICO, che
presenti la storia, ed essere stato una produzione esclusivamente propria del
popolo romano, viene a poco a poco attirando nella propria cerchia le
considerazioni di equità e di buona fede, assimilando quelle istituzioni delle
altre genti, che potevano ricevere l'impronta del genio giuridico di Roma,
finchè non diventa tale da poter essere comune a tutte le genti, che avevano
somministrato i materiali, sovra cui erasi venuto elaborando. Può darsi ed è
anzi probabile, che i principii di questa grande opera di selezione sono dapprima
inconsapevoli, come gl’inizii di tutte le opere umane, e fossero determinati
dal modo di formazione di Roma, e dal genio eminentemente giuridico dei
fondatori di essa. Ma egli è certo eziandio, che essa non tarda a cambiarsi ben
presto in un'opera consapevolmente voluta e proseguita con una perseveranza
tenace, di cui non potrebbesi trovare paragone. Così, ad esempio,
dell'importanza della “legis actio” già dovette aver consapevolezza il
patriziato romano, allorchè, dopo avere in parte reso comune alla plebe il
proprio diritto, continua tuttavia a riservare al collegio dei suoi pontefici
la formazione della “legis actio”, e la cambia in un segreto di professione e
di casta; come pure dovette averne coscienza anche la stessa plebe romana, come
lo dimostra la sua riconoscenza a Gneo Flavio, il quale, secondo la tradizione,
ha resa di pubblica ragione la piu primitiva “legis actio”. Questa influenza
poi del sistema delle azioni venne ad essere anche maggiore, allorchè
l'abolizione della “legis actio” e l'intro duzione del sistema delle formole
attribui da una parte al magistrato libertà maggiore nella concezione giuridica
delle varie fattispecie, e dall'altra gli porse eziandio il modo di introdurre
nuove azioni, accanto a quelle, che si fondano direttamente sui termini della
legge. Fu in quest'epoca, che il medesimo, oltre al ius dicere, si [(Pomp.,
Leg. 2, § 7, Dig. (1, 2 ); Liv. IX, 46. Secondo la tradizione, Gneo Flavio e
dalla riconoscenza della plebe elevato alla dignità di *tribune* della plebe,
di senatore e di edile curule.] trova eziandio nella necessità di edicere,
ossia di pubblicare, entrando in ufficio, la norma, che avrebbe applicate
nell'amministrazione della giustizia; che accanto ai iudicia legitima si svolgeno
quelli imperio continentia; che, accanto alle “actiones legitimae”, quae ipso
iure competunt, se ne formarono eziandio di quelle, “actiones quae a praetore
dantur.”Da quel momento il “praetor” puo essere considerato come una “lex
loquens”, e venne in certo modo ad essere arbitro sovrano nell'amministrazione
della giustizia. Tuttavia l'abolizione della “legis action” e la sostituzione
del sistema delle formulae devono essere intese alla romana, il che vuol dire,
che l'abolizione è soltanto parziale e non impedisce la sopravvivenza dell' “actio
sacramento”, come preliminare del “centum. virale iudicium” e di quello “damni
infecti nominee”, al modo stesso che l'introduzione delle formulae, anzichè una
rivoluzione, è piut tosto il riconoscimento e l'adozione fatta per legge di una
pratica, che dove già essersi prima introdotta nel fatto. È infatti probabile che
il sistema delle formulae già puo esser applicato nella “procedura inter cives
et peregrinos”, nella quale non potevano essere applicate la “legis actio”, e
che in tal guisa una procedura propria della “recuperatio” sia penetrata nel “ius
proprium civium romanorum”, almodo stesso, che più tardi l'”actio sacramento” puo
eziandio essere proposta davanti al “praetor peregrinus”. Il sistema delle
formole e in certa guisa già contenuto in germe nel sistema della “legis actio”.
A quel modo, che la “stipulatio” riducesi in sostanza alla parte nuncupativa
del “nexum”, la quale, liberata dalla solennità del l'atto “per aes et libram”,
puo essere adattata alla varietà dei negozii [Gaio dice espressamente, che,
negl’esordii di questo sistema di procedura, “edicta praetorum nondum in usu
habebantur”. Era quindi naturale, che quando questi sono introdotti, accanto a
quella parte di diritto, che fondasi direttamente sulla legge, e che perciò da
origine alle denominazioni di “actus legitimus”, “actio legitima”, “iudicium
legitimum”, si svolgesse un diritto, che fondasi in certo modo sull'autorità
del magistrato, e che, come tale, “imperio continebatur”, il quale finì poi per
essere compreso sotto il concetto di “ius honorarium”. È poi Cic., pro
Cluentio, il quale ha a dire, che siccome la legge e al disopra del magistrato,
e questo è al disopra del popolo, “vere dici potest magistratum legem esse
loquentem -- legem mutum magistratum.” Quanto ai concetti di “actio legitima” e
di “iudicium legitimum”, vedi WLASSAK. Sull'influenza del “praetor peregrinus”
e dell'edictum provinciale sul sistema delle formulae, v. Glasson, “Étude sur
Gajus”] giuridici. Così, la formola consiste essenzialmente in quei “concepta
verba”, che già occorrevano nella “legis actio”, salvo che questa “verborum conceptio”,
liberata dalla parte mimica, da cui era accompagnata, e da quel rigore di
termini (“certis verbis”), che era propria della “legis actio”, puo acquistare
una duttilità e pieghevolezza, che la prima non ha. Noi trovammo infatti, che
già sotto la veste ferrea della “legis actio”, ogni modus agendi finisce per
abbracciare diverse azioni particolari. Queste azioni già cominciano a
distinguersi nelle “actiones in rem” in “actiones in personam”, in quelle, che
hanno per oggetto un certum od un incertum, e in quelle, che dano origine ad un
iudicium o ad un arbitrium. Or bene tutti questi materiali, che ancora erano
riuniti nella sintesi potente della legis actio, si trovano in certo modo
abbandonati a se stessi, e si cambiarono in altrettante azioni, autonome ed
indipendenti, aventi un nome specifico, una propria formola ed un proprio
contenuto, e diedero cosi origine a quello splendido ed opulento sviluppo, che
ebbe ad avverarsi col sistema delle formole. Quella libertà della formola, che
sarebbe stata pericolosa negl’inizii della elaborazione giuridica, venne invece
ad es sere opportuna, quando questa era già iniziata ed abbastanza progredita.
Le prime formole, essendo state preparate sotto la rigida disciplina della “legis
actio” e del “ius pontificium”, indicano abbastanza la via, in cui dove
mettersi il magistrato per continuare l'opera già incominciata. È questa la
ragione, per cui il “praetor”, malgrado la libertà apparente, che lo
appartiene, sia di introdurre nuove azioni, sia di modificare le formole già
ricevute, procede in cio molto a rilento, ed ama piuttosto di ricorrere a
finzioni e di forzare cosi fatti ad entrare nelle forme riconosciute dal
diritto, che non di alterare la forma che già e accolta. Per tal modo, il nuovo
trova sempre un addentellato nell'antico, anche allorchè mira ad introdurre una
modificazione al medesimo, e intanto ciò non impedisce, che una parte del diritto,
che vive fluttuante pelle consuetudini, accanto al vero ius civile, si venisse
ancor esso consolidando sotto forma di un ius honorarium, che è pur sempre
modellato sul primo. Così pure, nella opera progressiva del praetor
succedentisi l’uno all’altro, puo manifestarsi uno spirito di continuità, per
cui le azioni ed eccezioni introdotte opportunamente da alcuno di essi finirono
per costituire un ius translaticium, che passa al praetor successore, e serve cosi
a preparare i materiali, che raccolti e coordinati costituirono poi l'editto
perpetuo di Salvio Giuliano. In questa condizione di cose appare ad evidenza
l'importanza del sistema delle azioni, poichè ogni progresso pratico della
giurisprudenza romana viene ad esser introdotto, o per mezzo di una nuova
azione, che tuteli un diritto prima non riconosciuto, o per mezzo di una
eccezione, che neutralizzi l'effetto di un'azione già riconosciuta dal diritto
civile. Allorchè poi un'azione è accolta od un'eccezione è ammessa, essa viene
ad essere come un centro, intorno a cui si moltiplicano le formole per
abbracciare l'infinita varietà delle fattispecie, finchè si giunge a quella
ricchezza di formole, a cui accenna Cicerone, allorchè dice: -- “sunt formulae
de omnibus rebus constitutae, ne quis aut in genere iniuriae aut in ratione
actionis errare possit: expressae sunt enim, ex uniuscuiusque damno, dolore,
incommodo, calamitate, iniuria, publicae a praetore formulae, ad quas privata
lis accomodatur.” Le formole pertanto servirono anch'esse ad ampliare e a
compiere quel lavoro di selezione, iniziato sotto l'impero della “legis actio”.
Esse si accomodano alle varie fattispecie. Isolano l'elemento giuridico da ogni
elemento estraneo, gl’elementi essenziali del fatto umano dalle circostanze
accidentali: accolgeno quelle aggiunte, che sono rese necessarie dalla maggiore
varietà dei negozii; riassunggeno le varie fasi della controversia in guisa da
presentare come uno specchio ed un compendio dell'intiero giudizio. Queste
formole poi non furono qualche cosa di esclusivo alla procedura. All'epoca
stessa, in cui penetrarono in questa, si vennero eziandio esplicando nel contratto,
nei testamento, nei legato, e in ogni altra parte del diritto civile romano, e
vi portarono cosi dappertutto l’ESATTEZZA E LA PRECISIONE DELLA LOGICA DEI
CONCETTI GIURIDICHI, non disgiunta da elasticità e pieghevolezza alla varietà
infinita dei negozii. È quindi facile il comprendere come il pontefice, il pretore
e il giureconsulto, non credeno indegno del loro ufficio l'attendere alla
composizione delle formole, e come bene spesso l'invenzione di una formola ha reso
celebre e tramandato fino a noi il nome di un pretore o di un giureconsulto.
Basta perciò aver presente l'importanza grandissima e la larghissima
applicazione, che [Cic, Pro Roscio -- Cfr. WLASSAK. Occorrono delle notevoli
osservazioni sulla importanza delle formole nel diritto civile romano presso
LABBÉ-ORTOLAN, “Explication historique des Institutes de Justinien” (Paris)] ricevettero
le clausole “ex fide bona” “quando aequiusmelius” e “propter te fidemve tuam
fraudatus siem” -- le formole aquiliane de dolo malo ed altre, che sarebbe
lungo ricordare; le quali serveno a far penetrare nel diritto la considerazione
dell'equità e della buona fede, e a dare forma concreta e pratica applicazione
alle lente mutazioni, che si venivano operando nella coscienza giuridica del
popolo romano. E infatti per mezzo di una piccola aggiunta in una formola
contrattuale e giudiziaria, che le aspirazioni latenti della coscienza
giuridica popolare ricevevano applicazione pratica, e che il diritto fluttuante
nelle consuetudini venne ad ottenere la tutela e la sanzione dell'autorità
giudiziaria. Questa considerazione mi
porge opportunità di conchiudere questo saggio, spiegando un carattere del
tutto peculiare della giurisprudenza romana. Nostro tentativo di “ri-costruzione”
del primitivo ius quiritium quanto meno dimostra che il diritto civile romano,
anzichè essere il frutto di una incorporazione qualsiasi di consuetudini
preesistenti, operatasi a caso e lasciata in balia delle cir costanze, fu
invece governato, fin dai proprii inizii, da una logica fondamentale, che non
venne mai meno a se stessa. Esso può es sere paragonato ad un lavoro lento di
cristallizzazione, in virtù di cui gli elementi affini, fluttuanti in un
liquido, cominciano dal precipitarsi a poco a poco, e poi si compongono
insieme, atteggiandosi costantemente a quelle forme tipiche, che sono imposte
dalla legge, che ne governa la formazione. Se ciò è fuori di ogni dubbio,
vuolsi però anche ammettere, che questa dialettica fondamentale, la quale regge
tutta la formazione del diritto civile romano, sembra in certo modo essere
dissimulata nelle opere anche dei grandi giureconsulti. In tali opere, per quel
poco che a noi ne pervenne, i singoli istituti appariscono come autonomi ed
indipendenti gli uni dagli altri, go [Questa importanza delle formole appare
sopratutto nelle formole processuali, poichè ogni progresso
nell'amministrazione della giustizia lascia in certo modo le traccie nella
composizione della formola giudiziaria. Questo concetto ha ad esprimere, molti
anni or sono, in “De exceptionibus in iure romano” (Torino) -- colle seguenti
parole. “Neque vereor dicere, omnia quae in
iudiciorum ordine, progressione temporum et seculorum elaboratione,
invecta fuerunt ad corrigendam, producendam, emendandam et adiuvandam
antiquissimi iuris « formulam quodammodo adhibita fuisse.”] --vernati ciascuno
da una propria logica, senza che più si scorgano le commettiture, che possono
stringere un istituto cogli altri. Vero è, che considerando attentamente il
formarsi di ogni singolo istituto, facilmente si riconosce la mano di artefici,
educati tutti alla medesima scuola, cosicchè i varii istituti si possono
paragonare ad altrettanti cristalli foggiati sulla stessa forma. Ma intanto più
non si scorgono le traccie della legge, che ne governa la formazione. Era
questo disordine apparente dei giureconsulti, che torna grave alla mente FILOSOFICA
ed ordinata di Cicerone, il quale perciò giunse fino a dire, che i primi grandi
maestri cercano di dissimulare la propria arte. Ma se questo potè forse esser
vero, finchè la scienza del diritto – come la filosofia, dopo -- e un monopolio
della gente patrizia, o meglio del pontefice massimo, custode delle loro
tradizioni, non può più ammettersi per il tempo, in cui la casa del
giureconsulto e aperta a tutti coloro, che volevano consultarlo. Anche i plebei
furono ammessi a questo collegio dei pontefici e a professare giurisprudenza.
Non è quindi in una causa alquanto puerile e di carattere transitorio, che
vuolsi cercare il motivo di questa specie di contraddizione, che presenta
l'elaborazione della giurisprudenza romana. Ma questo e piuttosto il modo, in
cui venne in Roma operandosi l'elaborazione stessa. A questo riguardo vuolsi
aver presente, che i modellatori del primitivo diritto di Roma – “veteres iuris
conditores” – non hanno mai in animo di insegnare una scienza, ma piuttosto di
professare un'arte (“iuris prudentia”), che forma solo più tardi argomento di
scienza. Essi quindi non intesero punto di soddisfare alle esigenze didattiche,
nè di introdurre quell'ordine sistematico, che è proprio della scienza. Si
proposero sopratutto di soddisfare alle esigenze pratiche. Sono i casi, che si
venneno presentando, che loro offrivano occasione di applicare l'arte loro.
Siccome per tanto nella pratica era l' “actio”, che predomina, poichè era con l’
“actio”, che il diritto sperimenta se stesso. Così ne venne, che dapprima sono la
“legis actio” che costitue il punto di richiamo dell'elaborazione giuridica, e
determina l'ordine, a cui la medesima venne obbedendo. Quando poi la sintesi
potente della “legis actio” venne ad essere disciolta, e pullularono così
azioni e formole, molteplici e svariate, aventi ciascuna una propria vita ed
una propria funzione nella formazione dei negozii e nell'amministrazione della
giustizia, sono eziandio le actiones, l’”interdictum.” -- Cic., De orat., I. la
“exceptio” e simili, che costituirono il punto centrale, intorno a cui dovette
appuntarsi l'arte dei giureconsulti. Quindi è, che essi, per quanto ubbidissero
ad una dialettica fondamentale, trascurarono naturalmente di far scorgere i
fili, che componevano la trama. Cosicchè la girusprudenza apparisce come a
frammenti, e ravvicinano istituti, che non hanno attinenza, disgiungendone
altri, che sono in vece strettamente affini fra di loro. Di qui la conseguenza,
che la costruzione giuridica romana non segue il processo dei concetti
fondamentali, da cui parte, ma venne seguendo invece l'ordine, prima, di Le XII
Tavole, e, poscia, dell'Editto. Nè questo disordine apparente puo recare
imbarazzo agl’esperti, perchè l'arte in essi era viva e feconda. Puo invece
riuscire grave agl’altri, i quali, come Cicerone, cercano di inoltrarsi in
questo campo con un indirizzo mentale concettuale e filosofico – di
‘re-costruzione logica.’. Fu soltanto, allorchè la ricchezza dei materiali
comincia ad ingombrare il campo, che si senti il bisogno di introdurre questa o
quella distinzione sistematica, al modo del Liceo per genere e specie, ma anche
queste distinzioni non compariscono nelle opere di costruzione giuridica
propriamente detta, quali sono quelle dei classici giureconsulti, ma soltanto
nell’opere di carattere didattico o tutoriale -- donde la spiegazione
dell'ordine diverso, che occorre nelle Istituzioni di Gaio e di Giustiniano e
nelle Pandette. Siccome poi anche l'ordine sistematico, introdotto nelle
Istituzioni, ha naturalmente lo scopo pratico di coordinare la giurisprudenza
romana nello stato in cui si trova, anzichè di fare assistere alla formazione
progressiva di essa; cosi ne viene, che anche le distinzioni, che occorrono in
Gaio ed in Giustiniano, danno talvolta come contemporanei degl’istituti, che
possono avere avuto origine in epoca compiutamente diversa. Ne consegue, che la
giurisprudenza romana, quale a noi pervenne, colle sue proporzioni armoniche e
colla coerenza delle sue varie parti, cela in certo modo la trasformazione
lenta e graduata, che venne operandosi in essa, e la dialettica, che ne governa
la for [Ciò appare sopratutto nelle “Receptae sententiae” di Paolo Diacono.
Questo apparente disordine invece è alquanto minore nei cosidetti “Fragmenta”
di Ulpiano, in quanto che questo lavoro di Ulpiano segue già passo passo
l'ordine dei “Commentarii” di Gajo, abbreviandoli in qualche parte, e facendovi
altrove qualche aggiunta, che altera talvolta le armoniche proporzioni dei “Commentarii”
di Gajo. Questi ultimi poi, a parte l'originalità maggiore o minore del
giureconsulto, sono il nostro modello di ordinamento sistematico, fatto in un
intento didattico o tutorial per l’elite diriggente. Cfr. Huschke, Jurisp.
antijustin., ed i proemii da lui preposti alle opere sopra citate dei
giureconsulti] –mazione. Ma ciò punto non impedisce, che, penetrando sotto la
scorza di essa, tosto si incontrino le traccie di materiali e di ruderi, che
appartengono a sorgenti e ad epoche diverse, e rivelano cosi al l'investigatore
i diversi periodi e momenti, per cui passa la lenta e graduata formazione della
legislazione romana. Giunto al termine di questo faticoso lavoro di
ricostruzione, ritengo opportuno di riassumere a grandi linee quelli fra i
risultati a cui sono pervenuto, che possono cambiare in qualche parte il modo
comunemente seguito di spiegare la storia primitiva di Roma, nel l'intento
sopratutto di porre in evidenza quella mirabile coerenza organica, che sempre
si mantenne nello svolgimento storico delle istituzioni di Roma. Allorchè le
genti italiche si sovrapposero alle popolazioni già prima stanziate sopra quel
suolo, che più tardi e denominato “italic”, dove avverarsi un periodo di forza
e di violenza, non dissimile da quello, che si avvero più tardi all'epoca delle
invasioni barbariche, ed il maggior bisogno, che dove sentirsi allora dai
vincitori e dai vinti, e quello di uscire da quello stato di privata violenza. E
allora, che le genti sopravvenute, memori forse delle tradizioni, che portavano
dall'antico oriente, irrigidirono la propria organizzazione gentilizia,
cercando di attirare nella medesima anche le popolazioni dei vinti, e
costituirono così l'aristocrazia territoriale dei patres, dei patroni, dei
patricii, mentre i vinti sono organizzati nella classe inferiore dei servi, dei
clienti, e infine dei plebei. Questa organizzazione, malgrado le differenze nei
particolari, assunge pressochè dapertutto un carattere uniforme, non dissimile
da quello dell'organizzazione feudale nel Medio Evo. Essa organizzazione venne
cosi ad essere composta di familiae, di gentes e di tribus, strette in sieme
dal vincolo di discendenza reale o fittizia da un medesimo antenato, le quali
risiedevano rispettivamente nella domus, nel vicus e nel pagus, mentre il
territorio da esse occupato era ripartito in heredia, in agri gentilicii, e in
compascua. Fu a questo stadio del proprio svolgimento, che le genti italiche
presero tutte a travagliarsi intorno alla grande opera del passaggio
dall'organizzazione gentilizia a Roma. Questa organizzazione ha sopratutto lo
scopo di assicurare la comune difesa e di fortificarsi nelle lotte pres sochè
quotidiane fra i varii gruppi. Roma comincia dall'essere un sito fortificato (“arx”,
“oppidum”, “capitolium” ) per servire di rifugio in caso di pericolo. Poi
diventa un sito per il mercato (“forum”) e un luogo di riunione dei capi di
famiglia delle varie comunanze confederate per la trattazione degli affari
comuni (“conciliabulum”, “comitium”). E posta sotto la protezione di un divino
– “dius,” “dius-piter” -- , comune patrono. Finchè da ultimo sotto la
protezione della comune fortezza cominciano eziandio a costruirsi le abitazioni
private. Non tutte le stirpi però sono pervenute al medesimo stadio di
svolgimento, nè tutte hanno seguito il medesimo indirizzo nella formazione di
Roma. Mentre gl’umbro-sabelli adereno ancora strettamente alla organizzazione
gentilizia, e gl’etruschi sono già pervenuti alla città chiusa e fortificata, i
Latini invece si trovano in uno stato intermedio. I latini sono pervenuti a
Roma di carattere federale, considerata come un centro della vita pubblica per
varie comunanze di villagio. È al buon seme latino, che s’attribuie l'origine
del nome di Roma. Roma comincia dall'essere lo stabilimento fortificato di un
nucleo di uomini forti ed armati – “vir”, “quirites”), staccatisi d’Alba per
cercare altrove sorti migliori, secondo una consuetudine comune delle genti
primitive, fidenti sopratutto nella forza del proprio braccio, ma non immemori
delle tradizioni proprie della stirpe, a cui appartenno. Le lotte di questo
nucleo di uomini di arme, stabilitosi sul Palatino, i quali, senza essere
ancora veri capi di famiglia, tendeno a diventarlo, colle comunanze di villagio
stabilite sulle alture circostanti dell'antico septimontium, lo conducenno
prima alla comunanza dei connubii e in seguito alla confederazione colle
medesime. Percorse due periodi compiutamente distinti -- cioè: il periodo della
città federale, in cui Roma è una città esclusivamente patrizia, ed è un centro
di vita pubblica fra varie comunanze gentilizie. Il secondo, quello in cui Roma,
esclusivamente patrizia associasi anche la plebe circostante delle periferii,
già pervenuta ad una certa agiatezza, nell'intento sopra tutto di provvedere
alla comune difesa, e chiude nelle proprie mura le primitive comunanze di
villagio, che entrano a costituirla. Nel
primo periodo, i cittadini di Roma sono i capi famiglia delle genti patrizie,
confederati in uno scopo di comune difesa, e la loro città, posta nel centro
delle varie comunanze di villaggio, rispecchia in se medesima le istituzioni
dell'organizzazione gentilizia, a quella guisa che un lago limpido rispecchia
le abitazioni e i villaggi, collocati sulle alture, che lo circondano. Essi
infatti trapiantano a Roma, centro della loro vita pubblica, le proprie
istituzioni gentilizie, salvo che le medesime, assumendo un intento
essenzialmente civile, politico e militare, cominciano a perdere alquanto il
proprio carattere patriarcale, e ricevono cosi uno svolgimento compiutamente
diverso. Roma esce cosi dalla confederazione e dal l'accordo dei capi di
famiglia (patres) e dei loro discendenti (patricii). Ma intanto assume un
carattere religioso, politico e militare ad un tempo, come le genti che
concorsero alla sua formazione. Sono i pontefici, che ne serbano le tradizioni
giuridiche e religiose ad un tempo. Gli auguri modellano gli auspicia publica
sugli auspicia, a cui già ricorrevano i capi di famiglia o delle genti. I feziali
serbano le tradizioni relative ai rapporti fra le varie genti. In questo
periodo la città serve ad operare la selezione della vita pubblica, che comincia
a spiegarsi nella città, dalla vita domestica e patriarcale, che continua a
svolgersi nelle varie comunanze di villaggio. L'urbs infatti designa l'orbita
sacra, in cui trovansi riuniti gli edifizii aventi pubblica destinazione, ed ha
nel proprio contro il tempio di Vesta e la domus regia. La civitas non
comprende ancora quelli rapporti soltanto che si riferiscono alla vita civile,
politica e militare. Il populus non comprende tutta la popolazione, ma quella
parte eletta della medesima che puo giovare alla res publica col braccio (“iunior”)
o col consiglio (“senior”). Per tal modo il grande intento della città in
questo periodo e quello di sceverare la vita pubblica dalla privata – “publica
privatis secernere” -- , di modellare il concetto della “res publica”, in
quanto essa ha un'esistenza distinta dalla “res familiaris”, e di architettarne
la costituzione politica, la quale venne cosi ad uscire dal concorso di tutti
gli elementi, che entravano a costituirla. La sorgente della pubblica potestà
risiede quindi nel “populus.” Ma in tanto la parte dovuta all'età e
all'esperienza nel provvedere all'interesse comune viene ad essere rappresentata
dal “senatus”, che è già elettivo ed è nominato dal “rex”; il quale alla sua
volta è l'eletto del “populus” e unifica in se medesimo l'”imperium”, che il
medesimo gli conferisce. Tutto cio, che riguarda l'interesse comune, si delibera
col concorso di tutti questi elementi, cioè essere proposto dal re, appoggiato
dal senato, votato dal popolo. Cosicchè, la legge assume la forma di una
pubblica stipulazione – “communis reipublicae sponsion”. Per quello invece, che
si riferisce alla vita domestica e privata – “res familiaris” --, essa continua
a svolgersi nel seno della “domus”, del “vicus”, del “pagus”, sotto la potestà
dei capi di famiglia o delle genti. Queste continuano a possedere le proprie
terre sotto la forma collettiva di “agri gentilicii” e di compascua, soli
eccettuati gli heredia, assegnati dalla gens od anche dal re, i quali
appariscono intestati ai singoli capi di famiglia. Anche la repressione dei
delitti continua ad essere lasciata al potere domestico e patriarcale, e le
pene conservano quel carattere religioso, che hanno nel periodo gentilizio. Solo
assumono carattere di delitti *pubblici*, e sono sotto posti alla giurisdizione
del re, temperata dalla provocatio ad populum, il parricidium e la perduellio,
di cui quello è come il germe del reato comune e questa il germe del reato
politico. Ma il diritto private continua in gran parte ad essere governato dal
costume (“mos”), il quale appare ancora circondato da un ' aureola religiosa (“fas”).
Cio tuttavia non impedisce, che fra le consuetudini e le tradizioni
preesistenti già ve ne sono di quelle, che sono sanzionate dala “lex publica”,
la quale è preparata dal pontefice, proposta dal re, e votata dal popolo; donde
la formazione della “lex regia”, nelle quali tuttavia le istituzioni giuridiche
serbano ancora quel carattere religioso, che era proprio delle istituzioni
delle genti patrizie. Nel frattempo quell'elemento plebeo, la cui formazione
già erasi iniziata nelle stesse comunanze di villaggio, prende un grandissimo
incremento collo svolgersi della città. Poichè, esso trovasi accresciuto dalle
popolazioni conquistate e da coloro che, spostati nell'organizzazione
gentilizia, vengono a stanziarsi nel territorio circostante alla città. Questa
moltitudine, che per essere composta di elementi di provenienza diversa e per
difetto di organizzazione chiamasi “plebes”, non entra ancora a formare il “populus”,
nè è ammessa alle curiae della città patrizia, ma abita nelle circostanze di
essa, e tiene cosi una posizione più di *fatto* che di diritto. Ai plebei, che
la compongono, solo dovette essere accordato, negli ultimi tempi della città
esclusivamente patrizia, il “ius nexi”, ossia il diritto di contrarre dei
prestiti, vincolando direttamente la propria persona, e il “ius mancipii”,
ossia il diritto di ritenere quello spazio di terra, sovra cui essi erano
stanziati colle proprie famiglie. È sotto l'influenza etrusca, che Roma comincia
a prepararsi ad un secondo stadio, a quello cioè di città chiusa e fortificata
nelle proprie mura, il che però non toglie, che essa continui ancor sempre ad
essere un centro di vita pubblica per le comunanze e le famiglie, che trovansi
stanziate nell'ager romanus, ma fuori del pomoerium della città. La
trasformazione, iniziata da Tarquinio Prisco, si compie, allorchè con Servio
Tullio Roma viene a comprendere nella propria cerchia non solo gli edifizii
pubblici, ma anche le abitazioni private, e in base alla sua costituzione viene
a formarsi accanto ai patres o patricii, un nuovo populus, composto di patrizii
e di plebei, ripartito in V classi ed in centurie, di carattere essenzialmente
militare, i cui membri hanno i loro diritti ed obblighi civili, politici e
militari determinati sulla base del CENSO. Da questo momento quel dualismo, che
esiste negl’elementi, che entra vano a partecipare alla medesima Roma, penetra
eziandio nelle istituzioni politiche. Per tal modo accanto ai veri magistrati
del popolo, comparvero il “tribune” della plebe. Accanto ai comizii delle curie
e delle centurie si formar il “concilium plebis”, il quale col tempo si
trasforma in comizio tribute. Da ultimo, accanto alla “lex” si svolge il “plebiscitum.”
Di qui lotte, che condussero a svolgere e in parte anche a modificare i
concetti fondamentali, che servivano di base alla costituzione primitiva di
Roma. Intanto Roma si è ingrandita. Nelle suemura non si esplica più soltanto
la vita pubblica, ma anche la vita domestica e private. Quindi la grande opera,
che si inizia in questo periodo, viene ad essere la formazione di un diritto
privato, comune ai due ordini, e la creazione di quell'arte, in cui i romani
dovevano essere maestri al mondo, cioè dell'”ars iura condendi.” Gl’elementi,
che dovevano convivere sotto la protezione di un comune diritto, sono due, cioè:
il patriziato, onusto di tradizioni religiose, giuridiche e politiche, e la
plebe la quale e un agglomeramento di elementi diversi, nuovo ancora alla vita
civile e politica. Quello ha l'organizzazione gentilizia fondata sul vincolo
civile dell'agnazione, e questa non conosce che la famiglia, stretta insieme
dal vincolo naturale della cognazione. Quella ha tante forme di proprietà,
quante sono le gradazioni dell'organizzazione gentilizia. Questa non ha in
certo modo che il possesso delle terre, sovra cui era stanziata (“mancipium”).
Qello ha il “fas”, il “ius”, l' “imperium”, l’ “auspicium”, il “mos veterum”. Questa
non conosce che l'”usus auctoritas”. Fu
la distanza stessa, a cui trovavansi collocati i due elementi, e il loro modo
di sentire e di pensare compiutamente diverso, in fatto di religione e di morale,
che resero necessaria la elaborazione di un DIRITTO, comune ai due ordini, il
quale FA COMPIUTAMANTE ASTRAZIONE DALLA MORALE E DALL RELIGIONE. Cosi pure è
questa distanza, che spiega la lentezza di questa elaborazione e la ricchezza
dei risultati a cui essa pervenne. Questa dove prendere le mosse dalle
istituzioni più elementari, comuni ai due ordini, e poi estendersi a poco a
poco a tutti i rapporti della vita civile. Per qualche tempo ciascun elemento
continua ad attenersi alle proprie consuetudini e costumanze. La convivenza dei
due ordini, pero, nelle stesse mura e l'attrito dei quotidiani interessi
finirono per determinare una specie di precipitazione del materiale giuridico,
fluttuante sotto la forma di tradizioni patrizie (“mos veterum”), o di
costumanze della plebe (“usus”). Si inizia così la più mirabile selezione
dell'elemento giuridico dagl’elementi affini, con cui trovasi implicato, che
siasi mai avverata nella storia dell'umanità; selezione, che da una parte
obbedisce alla legge naturali di formazione, e dall'altra è già l'opera di una
elaborazione, per parte sopratutto del pontefice, i quali, essendo i custodi
delle tradizioni delle genti patrizie, già sono in possesso di una vera tecnica
giuridica. Il nucleo centrale di questa formazione venne ad essere il concetto
del “quirites”, ossia dell'uomo, isolato da tutti gli altri suoi rapporti, per
essere riguardato esclusivamente come capo di famiglia e proprietario di terre,
quale appunto compariva nel censo. Il “quirites” viene cosi ad essere una
realtà ed una astrazione, un individuo e un capo gruppo, un soldato ed un
agricoltore ad un tempo. Ed il punto di vista, sotto cui si riguardano il “quirites”
nel reciproco rapporto, essendo determinato dal censo, viene ad essere quello
del mio e del tuo – “il nostro” --. Di qui consegue, che per essi ogni negozio
riducesi ad un trapasso dal MIO al TUO – il nostro -- , simboleggiato nell'atto
“per aes et libram”, e ogni procedura viene ad essere simboleggiata in una
specie di combattimento e di reciproca scommessa. Questo diritto, costituendo
un privilegio dei “quiriti”, viene ad essere denominato “ius quiritium”. I suoi
concetti fondamentali sono quelli vasti e comprensivi di caput, manus, mancipium,
commercium, connubium ed actio. Esso costituisce in certo modo l'ossatura
rigida di tutta la giurisprudenza romana. Siccome pero, attorno a questo primo
nucleo, che si vien precipitando e consolidando, si mantengono ancora sempre,
allo stato fluttuante, tanto le consuetudini e le tradizioni dei patres, quanto
gli usi della plebe; così il primitivo “ius quiritium” viene in certo modo
attraendo ed assimilando quelle istituzioni preesistenti, che potevano avere
qualche analogia col diritto già formato. Per tal guisa il medesimo,
arricchendosi di nuove forme, si viene gradatamente allargando nel “ius pro
prium civium Romanorum”, il quale può essere considerato come un proseguimento
di quella selezione, che erasi già incominciata col “ius quiritium”. Sono Le
XII Tavole, che danno forma scritta alle basi fondamentali di questo ius civile.
Quindi nelle medesime si possono scorgere le commettiture dei varii elementi,
che entrano a costituirlo. Infatti in qualsiasi istituzione di quel ius, che i
giureconsulti chiamano “proprium civium Romanorum”, può scorgersi una
formazione centrale, che è dovuta al “ius quiritium”, e due laterali, di cui
una suole essere di origine patrizia, e l'altra di origine plebea. Così, ad
esempio, fra le forme del matrimonio havvi da una parte la “confarreatio,” di
origine patrizia e dall'altra l'”usus” di origine plebea. La “coemption” sta
nel mezzo, ed è la forma essenzialmente quiritaria. Fra le forme del testamento,
le più antiche sono il testamento “in calatis comitiis”, propria del patriziato,
e la “mancipatio familiae cum fiducia”, propria della plebe, le quali poi,
pressochè componendosi insieme, dànno origine al vero testamento quiritario,
che è quello “per aes et libram.” Infine, fra i modi di acquistare e
trasmettere il dominio, il primo a formarsi è quello essenzialmente quiritario
della “mancipatio”, attorno a cui si vengono poi accogliendo l'”in iure cessio”
e l'”usucapion”. Intanto pero questa selezione non si arresta ancora colla
formazione di un “ius civile”, e quindi, accanto al medesimo, si esplica il “ius
honorarium”, il quale, pur derogando al primo, assimila nuovi elementi,
facendoli pero entrare in forme modellate a somiglianza di quelle già adottate
dal “ius civile”. È con questo meraviglioso processo che il diritto di Roma,
dopo aver cominciato dall'essere la *selezione* più rigida dell'elemento
giuridico, che ricordi la storia, ed una produzione esclusivamente romana,
venne a poco a poco attraendo nella propria orbita anche le considerazioni di
equità e di buona fede, ed assimilando quelle istituzioni delle altre genti,
che si acconciavano alla logica fondamentale, da cui era governato, finchè
divenne poi tale da essere considerato come un diritto universale, e da poter
essere accomunato a tutte le genti, da cui aveva tolti i materiali, sovra cui
erasi venuto elaborando. Il diritto romano riusci cosi ad essere una
costruzione eminentemente dialettica, la quale riunisce da sè gli opposti ed i
contrarii. Il diritto romano è antico nei materiali, che lo compongono, nuovo
per le applicazioni che se ne ricavano. Sotto un aspetto il diritto romano è
sempre fisso e fermo nei proprii concetti, sotto un altro è sempre in via di
formazione. Il diritto romano obbedisce ad una logica fondamentale, e intanto
lascia che ogni istituto proceda per proprio conto e segna un proprio concetto
ispiratore. Mentre il diritto romano è una produzione del tutto propria del
genio romano, assimila in se stesso le istituzioni di tutte le genti; è un'arte
ed una scienza ad un tempo. Esso infine, mentre obbedisce e si piega alle
esigenze pratiche, appare informato, come ben dice il giureconsulto, ad una
vera e propria FILOSOFIA, la quale non si abbandona alle speculazioni ideali,
mamedita sui fatti sociali ed umani, ne scevera l'essenza giuridica, la modella
in concezioni tipiche, e svolge le medesime in tutte le conseguenze, di cui
possono essere capaci. È questo il motivo, per cui le costruzioni giuridiche
dei giureconsulti romani sono sempre dei modelli, che difficilmente potranno
essere superati, poichè nella divisione di lavoro, che si opera fra i popoli
moderni, non ve ne ha certamente alcuno, che possegga in questa parte le
attitudini veramente meravigliose dell'ingegno romano per l'elaborazione
dell'elemento giuridico, e nessuno parimenti, che possa aver l'occasione, il
modo e il campo, che esso ebbe, per applicare la sua giurisprudenza alla
immensa varietà dei fatti sociali ed umani. Singolare destino quello di Roma. Come
le sue mura furono costrutte coi massi più solidi dell'epoca gentilizia; così i
concetti, che le servirono di base, furono la sintesi potente di tutto un
periodo di umanità, le cui vestigia si vengono ora discoprendo nelle necropoli
delle più antiche città italiche e nelle civiltà fossili dell'antico oriente.
Da questi ruderi di un periodo che può chiamarsi pre-istorico, essa seppe
ricavare uno svolgimento storico e logico ad un tempo, che basta ad organizzare
il mondo per tutto un grande periodo di civiltà. Senza essere ricca di concetti
proprii, essa ebbe però tanta forza ed energia assimilatrice da fare entrare
nei medesimi il lavoro di tutte le genti, con cui denne a trovarsi a con tatto.
Senza abbandonarsi a speculazioni ideali, essa riusci ad isolare l'essenza
giuridica dei fatti sociali ed umani, e a svolgerla in tutte le sue conseguenze
con una logica inesorabile e tenace. Quando poi i concetti, che stano a base
della sua grandezza, sono anch'essi esauriti, dalle loro macerie usce ancora la
grande idea della umanità civile, e la sua legge puo servire come punto di
partenza ad un nuovo periodo di cose sociali ed umane, Soltanto Roma, fra le
città dell'universo, puo personificare in se stessa quella legge di continuità,
che unifica la storia del genere umano. Le sue radici si perdono nella
preistoria, e le nazionalità moderne sono preparate da essa. Essa e l'erede e la
raccoglitrice paziente delle tradizioni del periodo gentilizio, e intanto pose
le basi, da cui presero le mosse, gli stati e le nazioni moderne. Inchiniamoci
a Roma. Quando si pretende di cambiarla in sede esclusiva del potere
spirituale, essa sa di nuovo rivivere alla vita civile. Quando si crede di
riguardarla come una specie di museo del mondo civile, colle sole sue memorie
essa coopera a ridestare a vita una giovine nazione. I dualismi, che ora
esistono in Roma, non ci debbono impaurire. Roma e sempre la città dei
dualismi. Punto non ripugna, che Roma e la sede del governo civile. Già altra
volta essa apprese l'arte di separare il potere religioso dal civile – “sacra
profanis secernere.” Non ripugna parimenti, che Roma continua ad essere la
città dei dotti e degl’eruditi, e che intanto sia la capitale di un giovine
stato. Roma ha tal copia di monumenti del passato da ricavarne la più splendida
passeggiata archeologica, e ha spazio che basta per fondare nuovi quartieri,
che possano corrispondere alle nuove esigenze ed ai nuovi bisogni. Ormai er tempo,
che essa un'altra volta arricchisse il nucleo ristretto della sua popolazione,
accordando nuovamente la sua cittadinanza alle popolazioni, che vi
concorsero da ogni parte dell'Italia. Lo stato federale non cerca di far
rivivere la tradizione civile e politica di Roma. Lasciamo ad altri di
combattere l'influenza della romanità. Noi, studiando fra i ruderi di Roma
antica, abbiamo nella grandezza del suo passato uno stimolo ed un incitamento
per l'avvenire; nè e inutile, che il giovine regno cerchi di educare il suo
senso politico e legislativo, studiando l'opera dei più grandi politici e
legislatori del mondo. La storia civile e politica di Roma e quella del suo
diritto non deve in Italia essere privilegio di dotti e di eruditi. Deve essere
parte dell'istruzione e dell'educazione civile e politica del popolo italiano.
È solo in questo modo, che si spiega la falange di giovani studiosi, che si
precipito sopra questo patrimonio, che deve essere nostro, allorchè lo studio
della storia del diritto romano e opportunamente chiamato a far parte
dell'insegnamento giuridico nell’università italiane. Credo infatti di poter
affermare, senza timore di essere contraddetto, che nessun nuovo insegnamento
provoca nel nostro paese cosi largo movimento di studii, come lo dimostrano le
pubblicazioni fattesi sull'argomento, gli istituti per lo studio del diritto
romano, che ora vengono sorgendo, e l'entusiasmo stesso, con cui non solo
l'Italia, ma tutta l’Europa partecipa alla commemorazione solenne di
quell'epoca, in cui l'iniziarsi degli studi sul diritto ro mano pone le
fondamenta dell'illustre ateneo di Bologna. L'importanza dogmatica del diritto
romano potrà forse diminuire colla pubblicazione del codice civile germanico,
il quale fa si che il diritto romano cessi di essere il diritto comune di un
grande Popolo. Ma la sua importanza storica venne per cio stesso ad essere
accresciuta, perchè si tratta pur sempre di determinare la parte, che nelle
moderne legislazioni deve essere attribuita alla grande in fluenza del diritto
romano. Ne è da farsi illusione, che questo gepere di studii possa ugualmente
mantenersi fuori della cerchia dell’università. Poichè, tanto in Italia che in
Germania, la scienza è nata e si è svolta nell’università, ed è in esse, che
deve essere tenuto vivo il focolare della medesima. È soltanto nell’università,
che la storia del diritto antico può cessare di occuparsi esclusivamente di
minute ricerche archeologiche, per cambiarsi in un sistema di concetti, che
possa essere succo e sangue per la giovine generazione. Giuseppe Carle. Diritto
romano. Keywords: implicatura, diritto romano, legge romana, concetto di legge
romana, natura romana Roman law often invoked nature to justify a legal ius –
the principle of individual ownership: JOINT position of a single object is said to be contra naturam. CONTRA NATVRAM
QVIPPE EST VT CVM ALIQVID TENEAM TV QVOQVE ID TENERE VIDARIS. SERVITVS EST
CONSTITVTIO IVRIS GENTIVM QVA QVIS DOMINIO ALIENO CONTRA NATVRAM SVBICITVR. Orazio.
Sat, Roma – filosofia antica – Luigi Speranza. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Grice e
Carle” – The Swimming-Pool Library.
Grice e Carlini: l’implicatura
conversazionale della filosofia fascista – filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza (Napoli).
Filosofo italiano. Grice: “I love Carlini, and Speranza loves him even
more, but then he is Italian! My
favourite is his “A brief history of philosophy,” especially the subtitle: “Da
Talete di Mileto a Talete di Mileto, con una postfazione di Talete di Mileto –
“Nel principio era l’acqua”!” – “Il primo filossofo – che cadde in un pozzo.”
Si laurea a Bologna (“l’unica universita italiana”) sotto Acri. Insegna a Iesi,
Foggia, Cesena, Trani, e Parma. E chiamato presso Pisa per sostituire Gentile,
trasferitosi a Roma, come titolare della cattedra di filosofia teoretica. Membro
dell’Accademia d'Italia. Inizia a farsi conoscere assumendo la direzione di una
collana edita da Laterza che inizialmente venne lanciata sotto il nome di “Testi
di filosofia ad uso dei licei”. Ad introdurlo nella Laterza è GENTILE,
conosciuto qualche anno prima, e CROCE, all'epoca ancora in rapporti col
filosofo di Castelvetrano. “Testi di filosofia ad uso dei licei” ha un scopo
divulgativo, ma divenne presto celebre per l'alto livello degli autori che
collaborarono in vario modo al suo interno, fra cui, oltre al C., anche Saitta
e lo stesso Gentile. Oltre al lavoro di direzione e coordinamento in qualità di
direttore responsabile, pubblica due saggi su Aristotele (in realtà raccolte
aristoteliche da lui curate, commentate e tradotte) cui fa seguito uno studio
su BOVIO che desta l'interesse di non pochi studiosi e l'approvazione di GENTILE,
considerato da C. suo tutore indiscusso. Pubblica due corposi volumi che
gli assicurarono un posto di assoluto rilievo nell’ambiente filosofico: un
esaustivo studio sul sense e l’esperienza, e soprattutto “Lo spirito”. In “Lo spirito” si inizia infatti chiaramente
a delineare il proprio pensiero: adesione alla dottrina idealista, vista come
sintesi fra il pensiero immanentista gentiliano (GENTILE è, fino alla propria
scomparsa, suo amico, oltre che tutore) e quello crociano. Il soggetto
attraversa un costante irto di dubbi ed angosce e un dialogo che riusciamo ad
instaurare con noi stessi, in un percorso critico dialettico, una conquista
realizzabile solo attraverso gli strumenti di una metafisica critica. La
centralità della teoria della conoscenza e sviluppata in “Lineamenti di una
concezione realistica dello spirito umano” e “Alla ricerca di noi stessi”,
“alla ricerca di tu”. Comprensibile appare pertanto l'interesse che nutre per
l'esistenzialismo, che però si espresse con una singolare preferenza verso Heidegger,
nelle cui speculazioni trovarono ben poco posto le istanze metafisiche, piuttosto
che nei confronti di Jaspers che su quelle stesse istanze aveva strutturato la
propria filosofofia. Commenta il pensiero logico di Heidegger, e Che cos'è la
metafisica? (“La nulla anihila”). Rende un commosso omaggio a Gentile con i
suoi Studi gentiliani, raccolta di scritti in massima parte già pubblicati
precedentemente, tesi a ricordarne la figura e le affinità intellettuali che un
tempo lo avevano legato al grande filosofo siciliano. “Bovio” (Bari,
Laterza); “Senso ed esperienza” (Firenze, Vallecchi); “Lo spirito” (Firenze,
Vallecchi); “Note a la metafisica d’Aristotele” (Bari, Laterza); “Filosofia” (Roma,
Quaderni dell'Ist. Naz. di Cultura); “Il mito del realism” (Firenze, Sansoni);
“Lo spirito” (Roma, Perrella); Filosofia (Roma, Ist. Naz. di Cultura); Il
problema di Cartesio, Bari, Laterza); Storia della filosofia, Firenze, Sansoni);
“La Fondazione Giovanni Gentile per gli Studi filosofici” (Firenze, Sansoni); Le
ragioni della fede, Brescia, Morcelliana); Michelino e la sua eresia” (Bologna,
Nicola Zanichelli). Dizionario biografico degli italiani. l'architrave 4
ala I ai Mi L. LL a cura di alberto schiavo Gy
giovanni volpe editore FUTURISMO E FASCISMO. Una fotografia inedita di
Marinetti mentre si esercita al poligona di tiro di Gorizia nel 1915.
Marinetti e Russolo si erano arruolati volontari nel « Battaglione
Lombardo Volontari Ciclisti » il 3 agosto 1914 per poi combattere da alpini
sul Monte Altissimo. In seguito Marinetti verrà assegnato ad un reparto
di autoblindate e poi servirà nei bombardieri. Sarà tre volte ferito e
tre volte decorato al valore. Tutti i diritti riservati. Giovanni Volpe
Editore in Roma, Via Michele Mercati. FUTURISMO E FASCISMO a cure
di ALBERTO SCHIAVO GIOVANNI VOLPE EDITORE FUTURISMO CON
E SENZA FASCISMO «A Giacinto Menotti Serrati allora direitore
del- l’Avanti, che si era recato in Russia per respirare aria
comunista. Lenin affermò: “Voi socialisti non siete dei rivoluzionari. In
Italia ci sono soltanto tre uomini che possono fare la rivoluzione:
Mussolini, Annunzio, Marinetti”. Il povero Menotti, inotridito, ritornò a
Milano precipitosamente. E. quando, paco dapo, un capo scarico con un
magistrale colpo di forbice gli tagliò di netto, per beffario, Ia
veneranda barba, reagì in questo modo: facendo proclamare nella grande
città lombarda lo sciopero generale. I milanesi orripilarono, è il
caso di dirlo, perché si sentirono da quel giorno appesi ai peli
del direttore dell'Avarti » EmiLio SErTIMELLI, Mille giudizi di statisti,
scrit- tori, giornalisti, scienziati, industriali di Cinquanta
Stati sulla personalità e misstone di Mussolini, Erre, Milano). Quale
futurismo? Il futurismo è ormai un fatto d’esportazione: italiano
d'origine pur se si è cercato di farlo passare per francese e russo poi
di acquisizione e di affermazione, è ormai alla ribalta
dell’esperimentazione artistica americana. Segno questo che il fenomeno è
vitale e ancora carico di prospettive, nonostante la « storicizzazione »
di un avvenimento che fu d'avanguardia. Ma quale avvenimento? Il
manitesto del futurismo fu pubblicato sul parigino Le Figaro. Si tratta di un
manifesto letterario di rinnovamento e di rivoluzione, se vogliamo, della
tradizione classicista e « passatista » {secondo un termine caro ai futuristi)
dominante. Gli aspetti politici non furono tuttavia estranei alla sua
volontà di rivolgimento letterario ed artistico. Ci sembra quindi giusto
prenderli in considerazione, eftet tuarne un esame. Anzi, è proprio di
questi che ci vogliamo occupare, del loro svolgersi, articolarsi 0,
comun- que, manifestarsi nel corso del tempo e della vita del futurismo.
Che, in fondo, ancora oggi è accettato o respinta, condiviso o negletto,
« approvato » o denigrato a seconda delle posizioni o degli intendimenti
politici del momento. Ma anche è ticonsiderato, tivisto e « rivisitato »
nel suo complesso, da tutte le parti, vicine e lontane, amiche ed
avverse, per la carica vitale e rinnovatrice che lo anima, suscitatrice
di nuovi spiriti e ancòra, in fondo, moderna. « La letteratura
esaltò fino ad oggi l'immobilità pen- sosa, l'estasi e il sonno »,
scriveva Marinetti in quel Mani festo di settanta e più anni fa. « Noi
vogliamo esaltare il movimento aggressivo, l'insonnia febbrile, il passo
di cor- sa, il salto mortale, lo schiaffo ed il pugno». E non è già
atteggiamento letterario « aggressivo », ma anche di rinnovamento,
questo? Non è, come si suol dire ancora, « fare politica »? Al settimo
punto del Manifesto, Marinetti così continuava: «Non c'è più bellezza, se
non nella lotta. Nessuna opera che non abbia un carattere ag-
gressivo può essere un capolavoro. La poesia deve essere concepita come
un violento assalto contro le forze ignote, per ridurle a prostrarsi
davanti all’uomo ». Per conclu- dere poi con l'undicesimo: « Noi
canteremo le grandi folle agitate dal lavoro, dal piacere o dalla sommossa;
can- teremo le maree multicolori e polifoniche delle rivolu- zioni
nelle capitali moderne; canteremo il vibrante fer- vore notturno degli
arsenali e dei cantieri incendiati da violente lune elettriche; le
stazioni ingorde, divoratrici di serpi che fumano; le officine appese
alle nuvole. E tutto questo cantava e diffondeva da Parigi, da uno dei
più gloriosi quotidiani della capitale francese; ma cio- nonostante «
...è dall'Italia, che noi lanciamo pel mondo questo nostro manifesto di
violenza travolgente e incen- diaria, col quale fondiamo oggi il
“Futurismo”, perché vogliamo liberare questo paese dalla sua fetida
cancrena di professori, d’archeologi, di ciceroni e di antiquari. Un
grido così coinvolgente e totale non può, in fon- do, non trascinare
ancora gli osservatori della cultura, A
non invitarli almeno a prendere posizione, poco importa se
favorevole o contraria. Non si può rimanere indiffe- renti ancora negli
Anni Ottanta, non sentirlo tutt'ora pre- sente nei suoi contenuti «
prospettici » e attuali. Ecco perché tutti lo hanno ripreso,
riconsiderato o « riabilita- to» alla loro dimensione storica: liberali e
comunisti, socialisti e conservatori, cattolici e radicali, fino alla nuova
destra. Anche noi, vorremmo quindi riesaminarlo a distanza non però per
riappropriarcene, ma solo per ve- dere la sua origine, il muoversi
storico e la collocazione politica nel corso della sua esistenza, che in
fondo, è ancora incerta e anche, in parte, controversa. Si è
parlato d’irrazionalismo filosofico, di decadenti- smo o di romanticismo
letterario, di surrealismo con evi- dente errore di collocazione, di
nietschianesimo natural mente, o di bergsonismo ecc. ecc. Ma non sta a
noi que- sto compito, perché siamo convinti che rutto si potrebbe
dite, o comunque tutto si potrebbe adattare in buona combinazione di
purpurie filosofica, o di pensiero. E in- vece è il futurismo che
vorremmo considerare nella sua realtà storica, nella sua entità e valenza
« politica », di fianco o a distanza di quel fascismo con cui bene o
male si è accompagnato. Anche se ciò non basta certamente per avere
un'idea chiara e precisa della sua effettiva por- tata e del suo valore «
storico ». Perché il futurismo va visto sì nel suo tempo, che non è poi
tanto passato, pur se non è più momento dell’oggi; ma va visto anche
nella sua prosecuzione e nella sua proiezione al tempo presen- te,
sia pure per quel che riguarda la « dimensione d’arte ». Il
futurismo oggi non è più un fatto politico, ma è tuttora fatto culturale,
e diverse manifestazioni e pubbli cazioni lo dimostrano ancora. Quando
nacque, fu espres- sione rivoluzionaria di un paese giovane e « nuovo »
mos- so dalla felice conclusione dei fermenti unitari, i quali — è
ovvio — comportano sempre semi di sconvolgimen- to e di rinnovazione. L’«
Italia di Vittorio Veneto » sancità definitivamente ed epicamente il
ciclo dell’unità e segnerà così anche, nel l'immediato dopoguetra, il
momento di temperatura massima del « futurismo politico », che vedremo poi
ricadere in seguito completamente a zero. Oggi, in tempi di
riflusso dopo una guerra perduta anche se ormai lontana, il futurismo
risulta meno com- prensibile e meno « attuale » alla nostra capacità
d'in- tendimento storico. Ma a ben osservare possiamo ancora
intravvederlo, per intendere poi anche meglio il futurismo artistico e
letterario, che del tutto estraneo a quello « po- litico » proprio non
è. La cultura è un fatto del presente, ma anche dell’av-
venire. Come tale è o dovrebbe essere giovane, perché vissuta, voluta, «
creduta » e quindi guardata in prospet- tiva nella visione dell’oltre,
nell'ottica di uno sguardo lon- tano. Il futurismo si pone in questo
«taglio » di visuale sull'inizio del secolo, e si focalizza in tale
dimensione. Vuole aprire una nuova strada e vuole porgere un'indi-
cazione, una proposta. Erano i tempi del progresso, dello sviluppo
della scien- za e dell'industria, del nascere della velocità dei
nuovi suoni e dei nuovi rumori, quelli delle scoperte e delle invenzioni,
del cinema e dell'aviazione. Marinetti percepì tutto questo e lo
espresse. E fondò il futurismo, pose le sue basi e cantò la sua prima
voce. Nessuno forse s’aspettava o s'immaginava che potesse riuscire a
trovare ascolto. Marinetti però viveva a Parigi a quel tempo, e
seppe approfittare dei contatti che aveva con la cultura rancese per
lanciare il Manifesto: fu un'occasione, e fu anche un lancio
sicuro. 2. Futurismo e « passatismo » Esiste ancora
oggi il « passatismo », quello di mari- nettiana memoria. E se è pet
questo c'è ancora il futu- rismo. Proprio per tale suo aspetto, dunque,
il futurismo è ancora attuale: la decadenza della cultura o il suo
in- vecchiamento, e la sua inadeguatezza ai tempi; il preva- lere
per contro dell'accademia, della pedanteria, del vec- chiume cattedratico
sono sempre all'ordine del giorno. ® Il futurismo,
quindi, non ha esaurito il suo compito, ov- vero non è riuscito nel suo
intento. E allora dovremo dire che non è morto ed è tuttora attuale. Ma
prima di aprire un'ipotesi di «nuovo futurismo », dovremmo
esaminare quello passato, fattosi movimento d'avanguardia, e ormai
da ridefinirsi vera e propria avanguardia storica, solo ed
esclusivamente. Il « passatismo » può essere oggi solo un « fatto
di ritorno », o esser rientrato ad occupare il suo campo d'’ori-
gine, ma il futurismo settanta anni fa aveva già conosciu- to quello di
allora, tanto da indicarlo e da definirlo, con una sua caratteristica
espressione: passatismo, appunto. E non si trattava anche allora di una
cultura ripetitiva e monocorde, puntualizzatrice e pedante, noiosa e
inat- tuale? Allora come oggi: una cultura fuori dal tempo, sterile
e ferma. E il futurismo aveva voluto muoversi a rinnovarla, a darle nuova
spinta vitale. Ecco allora le sue invettive contro l’accademismo o il
professorume, i suoi appelli alla distruzione di musei, archivi,
biblioteche. Si trattava di appelli squisitamente letterari, ma
sono stati presi il più delle volte alla lettera o in senso lette-
rale, per farne atto d'accusa al futurismo e alla sua anti- cultura.
Leggendo al di là delle righe, invece, dovremmo capire la portata o la
dimensione del messaggio, rivolto agli uomini più che ai musei e alle
accademie, o almeno a certi uomini capaci di rappresentare solo ed
esclusiva- mente cultura da museo. Sulla spinta di questo
stimolo « ideologico », era fatale che il movimento trovasse più facili
accoglienze 0 acco- stamenti con le parti politiche d’azione, quelle
dell'inter vento prima della Grande Guerra, e dell’arditismo prima
durante e dopo il conflitto. La guerra veniva ormai intesa sola ed unica
«igiene del mondo », ed era logico che i futuristi si accostassero a lei,
come ad una forza capace di debellare ed estirpare il tanto inviso «
passatismo ». I futuristi quindi furono interventisti accanto ai
naziona- listi (D'Annunzio) ed ai socialisti di Corridoni e di Mus-
solini. La ineluttabilità della storia accosta spesso e vo- lentieri i «
differenti ». Furono vicini nei comizi, nelle manifestazioni, nella
propaganda per l’intervento. E poi partirono, praticamente tutti 1
futuristi, volontari per il fronte di una guerta che avevano inteso e
visto aggressiva, purificatrice e moderna. Una guerra al passo coi
tempi, si direbbe oggi, una guerra insomma « futu- rista ». Partì
Martinetti e partì Boccioni, partirono Funi e Sitoni, partì Sant'Elia,
che lasciò i suoi 23 anni in trin- cea sulle colline del Carso. Erano
entrati tutti e cinque « compatti » in quel glorioso battaglione ciclisti,
che tan- to fece patlare di sé, e che Funi rittasse in un famoso
quadro. Anche Boccioni morirà in ospedale a Verona. La vita fu forse la
massima offerta all’« igiene » di una guetra tanto desiderata.
Il futurismo in quanto fermento rinnovatore di una lotta nazionale
che concluse il Risorgimento, potrebbe es- sere inteso come un epigono
del Romanticismo. Fu in- vece di più e di meglio, visto in altra
dimensione o in altro significato. Perché fu avanguardia, anzi il primo
ve- to e proprio movimento d’avanguardia culturale del nuo- vo
secolo. E l'avvento del fascismo in senso politico, di- mostra in fondo
che lo sbocco di tutto quel rivolgimento innovativo 0 avanguardistico che
tutti sentivano e « avevano nel sangue », era diventato una ineluttabile
necessità del momento. L’irreggimentazione del fascismo è un
fatto successiva, indipendente dal futurismo. Il fascismo-regime, per
dirla con De Felice, è un'esito autonomo e « solitario » di Mus-
solini e del potere. Il fascismo-movimento invece, sempre per dirla alla
De Felice, no. I) fascismo-movimento è una realtà più complessa,
articolata e multiforme, più sentita e partecipata. Ed in essa entra il
futurismo, che « vive » il fa- scismo ma anche lo anima, che Jo vuole in
parte, ma anche lo informa. Il « passatismo » doveva essere
stroncato: e in un primo momento, con l'avvento di Mussolini, languì.
La cultura subì uno svecchiamento non indifferente ed il fer- mento
del nuovo portò sulla scena uomini « giovani » ac- cantonando | «
vecchioni » dell'accademia libera!socialista. Balla, Carrà, Soffici,
Funi, Sironi, Prampolini si afferma- rono col vento futurista che stava
soffiando. Ed ebbero spazio nelle mostre, almeno in un primo momento,
aper- tura nei musei, apprezzamento all’estero, dove vennero
accolti, ammirati, imitati. Il futurismo ebbe una grande forza vitale
sua, autonoma e individuale. Senza per que- sto imporsi e schiacciare la
« concorrenza », anzi. I fu- turisti accettatono nuove esperienze ed
accolsero scambi con avanguardie straniere (come l'astrattismo), che
vol. lero mutuare in reciprocità l’influenze. Il fascismo fu
l’avan- guatdia collaterale politica del futurismo, che tuttavia
que- st'ultimo cronologicamente precedette e « ideologicamente »,
almeno in parte, ispirò. La lotta al « passatismo » diven- ne così quasi
simbolo del fascismo, che si fece portaban- diera del rinnovamento e
della nuova rivoluzione nazio- nale. I « professori », non
avendo messaggi originali da con- trapporre, rimasero in disparte.
Marinetti divenne acca- demico d’Italia a fascismo avanzato e, forse, suo
malgra- do. Tuttavia « usò » l'Accademia per promuovere ed ap-
poggiare i « suoi » futuristi, per dar loro spazio nelle di- verse manifestazioni
d’arte e di cultura. Il filosofo Croce, « professore ad honorem », era
stato proposto alla presi- denza dell’Accademia, ed era stato proposto da
parte fa- scista, quando ancora da Napoli applaudiva a Mussolini:
ebbe invece più consensi la presidenza Marconi, lo scien- ziato, e Croce
si ritirò nell’antifascismo, forse mi litante, della sua incensurata
e liberissima Critica. Croce fu « pas- satista », 0 tortò ad essere tale
dopo una parentesi {od un tentativo di rivolgimento innovativo), che non
lo sot- trasse tuttavia dalle « carte » della sua più o meno im-
mobile filosofia. 3. Futurismo e politica La comparsa
« politica » del futurismo fu praticamente contemporanea alla sua nascita
«artistica: infatti avvenne in occasione delle elezioni del 1909, quando
Marinetti lanciò il suo Primo Manifesto Politico, che così si
rivol- ge agli « Elettori Futuristi »: « Noi Futuristi invochiamo da
tutti i giovani ingegni d’Italia una lotta ad oltranza contro i candidati
che patteggiano coi vecchi e coi preti ». Posizione confermata nel marzo dello
stesso anno in un famoso Discorso ai Triestini tenuto al Politeama
Rosset- ti, della città giuliana, dove così sottolinea: « In
politica, stamo tanto lontani da] socialismo internazionalista e
an- tipatriottico — ignobile esaltazione dei diritti del ven- tre —
quanto dal conservatorismo pauroso e clericale, simboleggiato dalle
pantofole e dallo scaldaletto ». Sono le premesse del famoso
anticlericalismo marinettiano, che sfocerà poco dopo nello « svaticanamento
» tanto predi- cato per la salvezza nazionale. Nel 1910,
dopo la nascita del futurismo politico, vie- ne fondato il Partito
Nazionalista Italiano, antidemocra- tico ed antiborghese. Nel 1913 nasce
Lacerba, cui diede- ro vita a Firenze Soffici e Papini, la rivista che in
pra- tica divenne ben presto organo ufficiale del futurismo /ato
sensu. Sempre nel 1913 sorgeva a Napoli un’altra rivista futurista,
diretta da Ferdinando Russo e intitolata Vele Latina, che si ergeva in un
primo tempo a voce di pa- sizioni morigerate e tranquille, e poi dal 1915
più spinte nella mischia dell'intervento. Ancora del ’13, e
dell'11 ottobre per l'esattezza, è la pubblicazione del Programma
politico futurista a firma di Marinetti, Boccioni, Carrà e Russolo, per
le elezioni dello stesso anno. « Questo programma vincerà », s'in-
dica al margine inferiore del foglio, «il programma cle-
rico-moderato-liberale » e «il programma democratico-re-
pubblicana-socialista ». Cosa che poi in realtà non avvenne. Il 12
dicembre dello stesso anno Marinetti pronun- ciava un discorso al Teatro
Verdi di Firenze, dove sao- stiene la volontà di appoggiare l'impresa
libica ed il suo felice compimento. Il discorso viene immediatamente
ri- preso e pubblicato da Lacerba, nel numero del 15 dicem- bre (n.
24, anno I): « Si convincano i socialisti che noi rappresentanti della
nuova gioventù artistica italiana com- batteremo con tutti i mezzi e
senza tregua i loto vigliac- chissimi tentativi... » iniziava il discorso;
e così concludeva, a rafforzamento delle sue inconciliabili posizioni: «
Noi siamo dei nazionalisti futuristi e perciò ferocemen- te avversi
all’altro grande pericolo imminente: il clerica- lismo con tutte le sue
propaggini di moralismo reaziona- sio, di repressione poliziesca, di
professoralismo archeo- logico e di quetismo rammollito o affatismo di
partito ». Ormai la collocazione del movimento è quanto mai chia-
ra e inequivocabile. 4. Futuristi e « fiorentini. Che i futuristi
fossero « milanesi » è problema tutto da vedere, anche se è vero che
Marinetti abitava a Mi- lano e che dopo la fondazione del movimento a
Parigi fu a Milano il suo centro di spinta e di irradiazione. Ma i
legami con Firenze furono ben presto agganciati, e determinanti. Scrive
Luciano De Matia: « Fsiste un fu- turismo milanese (con Marinetti e
Boccioni in simbio- si); esiste un primo futurismo fiorentino lacerbiano,
che assimila, elabora in modo nuovo, creativo, le istanze mi- lanesi;
esiste un secondo futurismo fiorentino (la « pattu- glia azzurra »; i
giovani de L'Italia futurista) psicologico, occultista, predadaista e
presurrealista. E potremmo con- tinuate nelle differenziazioni »”.
Ma non è tanto per questo tipo di differenziazioni che ci interessa
il futurismo fiorentino, quanto per la dimen- sione « politica » dei
personaggi che vi aderirono, diversa da quella di Marinetti e degli altri
futuristi milanesi o degli altri politici che a Milano operavano e si
muove- vano (Boccioni, Sant'Elia, Balla; più tardi poi, Vecchi e
Mussolini). Milano era già città d'avanguardia e alla guida
dell’industrializzazione settentrionale: questo non va dimenticato.
Firenze era ancora « passatista », accademica e salot- tiera;
legata comunque ad una cultura d’indagine e di ! Tuciano De Maria,
Palazzeschi e l'avanguardia, Mondadori, Milano, 1968, pag.
31. riesumazione di un passato ricco e glorioso, ma ormai ri-
petitivo e sclerotizzato. Firenze tuttavia era anche la terra feconda del
primo Novecento, delle nuove riviste, dei tentativi di rivisitazione di
una cultura pur sempre na- zionale, e di lancio dell'avanguardia sullo
scorcio del nuo- vo secolo, che andava creato e costituito, Il Leonardo
apre le sue tirature il 4 gennaio 1903, per chiuderle poi nel-
l'agosto del 1907. Era stato Papini a fondarlo, ma c’era già anche
presente Prezzolini (Giuliano il Sofista). Che poi mise in piedi La voce
nel 1908: uno dei migliori ten- tativi di collegamento delle forze
intellettuali e di fon- dazione di un minimo denominatore comune,
letterario e politica {idealismo e sindacalismo socialistico di tipo
so- reliano). Papini continuò la « collaborazione ». Ma vi fu- rono
anche, sulle pagine de La Voce, Amendola e Sal vemini, Soffici e De
Robertis, oltre che il futuro fonda- tore de Il Popolo d’Italia e del
Fascismo. La Voce chiudeva però i battenti nel 1912 senza
ec- cessiva eco politica immediata. Papini non aveva condi- viso
certe alleanze del suo amico Giuliano il Sofista, come non condivideva
l'intento didascalico e divulgativo della Voce su qualsiasi argomento
artistico e sociale, come an- che « idealistico ». Si unì a Soffici di
cui condivideva gli atteggiamenti, ed insieme fondarono Lacerba (il 1°
gen- naio del 1913, sempre a Firenze). « Non si volge chi a stella
è fisso! », portava come motto il Leonardo sotto la testata. Volendo dare
tono battagliero a Lacerbae, Pa- pini forse ancora seguiva le prospettive
d’arte e di cul- tura del Leonardo. Anche se in una dimensione « attiva
» che già i « leonardiani » avevano inteso fondare nell’uti-
lizzazione del pragmatismo come « strumento di poten- za ». (« In quegli
anni tutti vollero sapere che cosa fosse il pragmatismo »). Lacerba
riprende l’impostazione di battaglia, tipica di Papini, e ritotna
all’orientamento spe- cifico dell’arte. ? Vedi
anche Giovanni Papini, Pragmatismo, Firenze, Vallec- chi, 1927.
14 In questo contesto è evidente che non poteva man-
care l’incontro col futurismo. La scazzottatura dei futuristi con
Soffici e i vociani nel 1911° non poteva aver contribuito all'incontro?
Potrebbe darsi, anche se Papini non vi aveva partecipato, come Marinetti
stesso asserisce in una sua lettera a Pra- tella. Sta di fatto che col 15
marzo del 1913, cioè col suo sesto numero, Lacerba diventa futurista. Con
un articolo proprio di Papini dal titolo Contro il futurismo che dal
famosa attacco iniziava così: « Il futurismo italiano ha fatto ridere,
urlare e sputare. Vediamo se potesse far pen- sare». Segue un passo di
Boccioni sul «fondamento plastico della scultura e pittura futurista».
Proprio Boccioni che ave- va investito Soffici col suo celebre pugno,
poco più di un anno prima a Firenze. E che continuerà a pubblicare
articoli sul numero del 1° di aprile e su quello del 1° di agosto e poi
sul primo numero del 1914, ecc. Per non parlare di Carrà, Marinetti,
Russolo, Sant'Elia, Auro d'Al- ba, ecc., che porteranno continuamente i
loro contributi. Il 15 ottobre del ’13 Lacerba pubblicherà
addirittura il citato Programma politico futurista in occasione
delle elezioni generali. Il manifesto politico compare in prima
pagina con tutti i crismi d'appoggio o di affiancamento della rivista.
Papini ne dà un commento più che « sod- disfacente ». E lo stesso Papini il
1° dicembre dello stes- so anno uscirà poi con un lungo articolo
intitolato Perché son futurista. Sarà l’atto di accettazione definitiva
del fu- turismo, od il suo accoglimento più completo, e « globale
». 1 Su La Voce Soffici pubblica la sua Ri- cetta di Ribi
Buffone. Vi si elencano gli ingredienti del neonato futurismo: « Un chilo
di Verhaeren, 200 gr. di Alfred Jarry, cento di Laforgue, trenta di
Laurent Tailhade, cinque di Viélé Griffin, un pugno di Morasso..., una
presa di Pascoli », aggiungendovi poi « una pila di undici automobili,
sette aetoplani, quattro treni, due carghi, due biciclette, diverse
batterie elettriche e qualche candela arden- te». Sempre su La Voce
Soffici pubblicherà poi nel ‘10 e nell’11 dei rendiconti negativi sulle
opere futuriste esposte a Venezia e a Milano, per cui sarà decisa la
spedizione punitiva a Firenze da par- te dei fuiuristi, Non
molti giorni dopo, il 12 dicembre (lo ab- biamo già visto), si tenne al
Teatro Verdi a Firenze una « grande serata futurista », di cui riporta il
« reso- conto sintetico » il numero 24 della rivista (del 15 di-
cembre 1913). Non molto tempo dopo, però, il 15 febbraio del
’14, appare sul quarto numeto del nuovo anno I! cerchio si chiude,
che avvia inesorabilmente al declino della colla- borazione. Autore ne è
ancora una volta Giovanni Papini, che chiuderà definitivamente il «
colloquio » sull'ultimo numero dell’anno insieme a Soffici, cofirmatario
de Il Fu- turismo e Lacerba. E’ l'atto di chiusura di un « perio-
do »: quello, appunto, del futurismo lacerbiano. Rispon- derà Boccioni il
1° di marzo sul numero 5 con Il cerchio non si chiude; ma sono solo
sussulti, e anche sugli ultimi numeri dell'anno della rivista
compariranno solamente i cosidetti « canti del cigno ». Il
cerchio era ormai già chiuso. E non molto dopo chiudeva anche Lacerba,
nonostante i suoi ultimi tenta- tivi interventisti di rivivificazione
(1915) e le sue discri- minazioni tta futurismo c marinettismo, che ne
sarebbe stata la versione deteriore‘. 1l marinettismo sarebbe pra
ticamente già morto secondo «i fiorentini », mentre il futurismo avrebbe
potuto tendere a mete migliori. Dopo pochi mesi in realtà morirà
definitivamente anche Lacerba. 5. Il futurismo e la guerra
Nel 1929 Marinetti ricordava così l’inizio della sua « carriera
interventista »: « Nel settembre 1914 dutante la battaglia della Marna e
in piena neutralità italiana, noi futuristi organizzammo le due prime
dimostrazioni contro l’Austria e per l'intervento. Bruciammo il 15
settembre nel Teatro Dal Verme e il 16 settembre in Piazza del
4 Cfr. Palazzeschi, Papini, Soffici, Futurismo e
Marmnettismo, in Lacerba, anno III, n. 7, 14 febbraio 1915, pp.
49-50. Duomo e in Galleria undici bandiere austriache ». Poco prima
di quegli avvenimenti, Mussolini aveva fondato il suo nuovo quotidiano,
I{ Popolo d’Italia. Contemporanea- mente, sotto l'auspicio e il favore di
Corridoni, i gruppi rivoluzionari di sinistra, già pronunciatisi a favore
della guerra, si stavano organizzando per sostenere anch’essi
l'intervento. Come ricorda De Felice, «il 5 ottobre il Fascio
Rivoluzionario d'Azione Internazionalista avreb- be lanciato il suo primo
appello ai lavoratori italiani in questo senso » * L'incontro tra futuristi
e rivoluzionari di estrema sinistra si stava verificando e « stringendo
», anche se già confortato da reciproche simpatie per le uni. voche
posizioni anticlericali ed antiborghesi. Mussolini scriveva dalla
direzione de Il Fopolo d'Italia una lettera a Buzzi, che riportiamo
interamente: « Caro Buzzi, Boccioni vi avrà detto — se mai vi avrà
parlato di me — che tutte le mie simpatie sono — anche nel dominio
dell’arte — per i novatori e i demolitori: per i “futuristi”. Inattesa,
e perciò gradita, mi giunge la vostra lettera riboccante di
simpatia. E’ questo uno dei momenti più amari della mia vita. Ma vincerò.
Vincerò. Lo sento. F' necessario. Ho messo nel gioco tutta me stesso.
Credetemi. Vostro Mus- solini ». L’amarezza gli è data
probabilmente dall’espulsione dal Partito socialista proprio per la
posizione da lui assun- ta a favore dell'intervento. La conoscenza da
parte di Mussolini, di Boccioni e del movimento d’arte d’avanguar-
dia di Marinetti, risultava sino a poco tempo fa inesistente. La lettera,
unica del genere, conferma la precedenza del futurismo politico rispetto
al fascismo ancora da sorgere, che poi mutuerà da esso idee, elementi e
programmi. Le simpatie si manifestano per il dominio dell'arte,
al dire di Mussolini, ma non solo; c'è un « anche », che indica
chiaramente dell'altro e un'apertura, forse politi ca, possibile nei
confronti degli innovatori e dei « demo- Renzo De Felice,
Mussolini il Rivoluzionario, Einaudi, Tori. litori », vale a dire per i
futuristi. Che ancora il 9 dicembre di quell’anno organizzano le prime
manifesta- zioni interventiste all’Università di Roma, sotto la
guida di Marinetti, Balla, Cangiullo e Depero. Qualche mese dopo,
nel ’15, le autorità di governo fermano Marinetti, Cangiullo, Balla e
Depero che avevano indetto una manifestazione interventista un’altra volta a
Roma, in Piazza Venezia. E' il primo « fermo politico » di Marinetti.
Sia- mo quasi alla vigilia della guerra. Il 12 aprile 1915
si mette in piedi la « terza grande dimostrazione interventista » davanti
alla Camera dei De- putati. E' presente anche Mussolini e si verifica uno
dei maggiori « momenti d’incontro » tra futuristi e Mussolini sul
terreno dell’intervento. Balla, Corra, Settimelli, Ma- rinetti e lo
stesso Mussolini vengono attestati. Tutti gli sforzi ormai, tutte le
volontà e tutte le energie sono con- centrate verso un'unica e suprema
meta: quella della guer- ra. A Messina esce il nuovo periodico La Balze,
e Ma- rinetti pubblica il manifesto Guerra sole igiene del mon- do,
mentre il poeta futurista Auro d'Alba « lancia » a Mi- lano per le
Edizioni Futuriste di « Poesia » (« sostenute » da Marinetti) il volume
Baionette. Con l’entrata in guerra nel maggio, a Fitenze
Lacerba interrompe — come si è visto — le pubblicazioni. Una guerra
che avevano tutti quanti, in un certo senso, pre- parato con interventi,
discorsi, giornali, manifestazioni e pubblicazioni. Fra questi non va
dimenticato il manifesto del Teatro futurista sintetico, firmato da
Martinetti, Corra e Settimelli, nel quale, fra l’altro, così si legge: «
Aspettan- do la nostra grande guerra tanto invocata noi Futuristi
al- terniamo la nostra violentissima azione artistica sulla sen-
sibilità italiana, che vogliamo preparate alla grande ora del massimo
pericolo ». E più avanti: « Perché I’Italia impari a decidersi
fulmineamente a slanciarsi, a sostenere ogni sforzo e ogni possibile
sventura non occorrono libri e riviste... La guerta, futurismo
intensificato, ci impone di marciare e di non marcire nelle biblioteche e
nelle sale di lettura. No: crediamo dunque che non si possa oggi
influenzare guerrescamente l'anima italiana, se non median-
18 te il teatro ». E in effetti, a partire dal gennaio del
'15, i futuristi avevano iniziato una serie di « Tournées di tea- tro
futurista interventista » per sostenere la necessità del- l’intervento
con un mezzo di comunicazione ben più po- polare e « circolante » della
letteratura. Anche la «serata futurista », per esempio, è un
al tro canale o strumento di « incoraggiamento » dell'inter- vento.
Si tratta di una sorta di riunione o ritrovo di arti- sti futuristi, uno
dei quali sollecita gli intervenuti (pubbli- co) danda uno spunto, e
proponendo un tema, o aggre- dendo qualche aspetto dell'arte del passato,
da cui nasce lo stimolo alla creazione e alla lotta del nuovo 0 del
futu- ro, e anche lo stimolo alla guerra che lo conduce sino alle
ultime conseguenze. Ma sentiamo Marinetti come la defi- nisce quando si
rivolge agli studenti in un altro manifesto, di poco precedente a quello
« teatrale », intitolato Im que- st'anno futurista, rivelto agli «
studenti italiani » e datato 29 novembre 1914. Laddove si esortano i
giovani alla guerra così si afferma: «... il futurismo segnò
appunto l’irrompere della guerra nell’arte, col creare quel fenome-
no che è la Serata futurista (efficacissima propaganda di coraggio). Il
futurismo fu la militarizzazione degli artisti novatori ». E
la guerra arrivò, come A biamo visto, e per molti versi fu vera e propria
« guerra futurista ». In luglio par- tiva il gruppo più consistente di «
volontari »: Marinetti, Boccioni, Russolo, Sant'Elia, Bucci, Carlo Erba e
Funi. Ma ci saranno al fronte anche Carrà e Sironi, fattosi futu-
rista nello stesso anno, e Piatti e Fortunato Depero. Alla fine
dello stesso anno Boccioni, Russolo, Sant’E- lia, Sironi e Piatti, sempre
sotto l'egida di Marinetti, firmano un altro manifesto futurista, quello
dell’Orgoglio italiano, con cui si promettono pugni, schiaffi e
fucilate a quelli degli italiani che avessero manifestato in sé «la
più piccola traccia del vecchio pessimismo imbecille, deni- gratore e
straccione che ha caratterizzato la vecchia Italia di mediocristi
antimilitaristi (tipo Giolitti), di professori pacifisti (tipo Benedetto
Croce, Claudio Treves, Enrico Ferri, Filippo Turati), di archeologi, di
eruditi, di poeti nostalgici. Sant'Elia muore al fronte, e Boccioni, una
settimana dopo, per una caduta da cavallo durante un'esercitazione militare a
Orte. Nasce a Firenze la nuova rivista L'Italia futurista. Prampolini
fonda con Fol- gore il foglio d'avanguardia Awvenscoperta. Nel ’17 nasce
il periodico Deda, che tanto dovrà nell’ispirazione al no- stro
futurismo. I) 18 è ormai l'anno della vittoria. Depe- ro realizza i suoi
nuovi «balli plastici ». Bruno Corra pubblica a Milano con i tipi dello
Studio Editoriale Lom- bardo Per l'arte della nuova Italia. Siamo infatti
nell’Ita- lia della vittoria. 6. Il Partito politico
futurista Nella nuova realtà del dopoguerra il futurismo
cerca una sua nuova collocazione politica più « pacifista », se il
termine non è nella fattispecie una contraddizione. Ai fasti
dell'intervento e della militarizzazione, succede un nuovo intento
programmatico di realizzazione. La prima espressione di questa volontà è
ancora una volta dovuta a Marinetti che pubblica nel febbraio del ’18 un
Manifesto del Partito politico futurista, l'adesione al quale era
libera ed aperta a tutti coloro che avessero accettato i principî
del suo programma, indipendentemente dalle concezioni dell’arte o dal
consenso all’« estetica futurista ». E questo indica una presa di
posizione più ponderata e meno « di rottura », almeno in senso
sociale. Il documento esprime, negli intenti, il desiderio di
rinnovamento di quelle fasce del combattentismo inter. ventista, comprese
fra i mussoliniani, i sindacalisti tivo- luzionari, i socialisti e i
repubblicani di sinistra, che avreb- bero poi dato vita alla formazione
dei Fasci di Combatti- mento, quelli cui futuristi ed arditi avrebbero
infuso la prima linfa vitale. Si possono considerare punti
essenziali del nuovo programma l'estensione del suffragio universa-
le, comprendente anche le donne, la socializzazione della terra con
assegnazione ai reduci, la tassazione progressi- va, l'abolizione
dell'esercito e la sua professionalizzazione (volontariato), la
giustizia gratuita, la libertà di sciopero e stampa, le otto ore
lavorative e Î contratti collettivi di lavoro, l'assistenza e la
previdenza sociale, la « tecnicizzazione » clel parlamento e l’introduzione del
divorzio. A diffondere le idee del nuovo partito era destinato il
perio- dico Roma futurista, fondato a Roma da Marinetti, Mario
Carli ed Emilio Settimelli, che vedeva la luce il 20 set- tembre 1918 e
portava come sottotitolo « Giornale del Partito politico futurista ».
. « Roma futurista », racconta Marinetti nel suo libro
Futurismo e Fascismo (1924) « nacque un mese e mezzo prima
dell’armistizio, cioè il 20 settembre 1918, e porta- va nel suo primo numero
tre scritti importantissimi dei suoi tre direttori: Mario Carli,
Marinetti, Settimelli. Scri- veva Settimelli: “Il Futurismo che fino ad
oggi esplicò un programma specialmente artistico, si propone una
inte- grale azione politica per collaborare a risolvere gli urgen-
ti problemi nazionali. Coloro che ci accusarono di squili- brio dovranno
ricredersi. I] preconcetto di serietà pedan- tesca e quietista imposto
alla vecchia Italia dai profes- sori rammolliti, dai preti anti-italiani
e dagli affaristi gio- littiani, cercò di svalutare la nostra genialità
di giovani audaci e novatori. Ma la vera Italia non può rimanere e
non rimarrà neppure parzialmente nelle loro mani inca- paci. La guerra ha
rivelato le vere forze italiane. Sono for- ze giovani, violente,
antitradizionali e ultra-italiane” ». Il primo numero di Roma
futurista (decadario, poi settimanale) pubblicava il programma del
giornale mede- simo ed anche il manifesto di quel Partito Politico
Futu- rista che si doveva ancora fondare. Partito che, nell’inten-
dimento di Settimelli, doveva essere « più che altro una tendenza
psicologica », una « fusione di realtà e di scon- (inamento, di praticità
e di lirismo », che avrebbe contri- buito a creare un nuovo tipo
d'italiano. Ma ecco ancora come si esprime «la volontà» di fondazione del
movimento: « Il Partito politico futurista che noi fondiamo e che
or- xanizzeremo dopo la guerra, sarà nettamente distinto dal
movimento artistico futurista. Questo continuerà nella sua opera di svecchiamento
e rafforzamento del genio creatore italiano... Potranno aderire al partito
politico futu- rista tutti gli Italiani, uomini e donne d’ogni classe e
di ogni età... Questo programma politico segna la nascita del
partito politico futurista invocato da tutti gli italiani, che si battono
oggi per una più giovane Italia, liberata dal peso del passato... ». La
firma è di Roma futurista, cioè, come si presume, del direttore, o anzi
di tutti i tre direttori. Ecco alcuni punti del
manifesto-programma del par- tito: « 4) Trasformazione del Parlamento
mediante un'equa partecipazione di industriali, di agricoltori, di
ingegneri e di commetcianti al Governo del Paese. Il limite minimo
di età per la deputazione sarà ridotfò a 22 anni. Un mi- nimo di deputati
avvocati {sempre opportunisti) e un mi- nimo di deputati professori
(sempre retrogradi)... Aboli- zione del Senato... Unica religione,
l'Italia di domani... 10) ...Svalutazione della pericolosa e aleatoria
industria del forestiero... Difesa dei consumatori... Svalutazione
dei diplomi accademici e incoraggiamento con premi della iniziativa
commerciale e industriale... ». Le adesioni all'iniziativa si
fecero subito sentire da diverse parti: ci furono vecchi futuristi come
Auro d'Alba, Rosai e Rocca, reduci dalla guerra come Bolzon e
Bottai (che avrebbe poi rivestito un ruolo di primo piano nel-
l'ambito del nuovo regime fascista) e Massimo Bontempel- li, secondo il
quale il programma fondamentale del futu- rismo politico sarebbe stato
quello di sostituire «la gio- vinezza alla vecchiaia nelle funzioni
direttive ». E non sarebbe stato poco. Sarebbe stato uno dei tentativi,
anche se non del tutto riuscito, dell’insorgente fascismo.
Nel dicembre dello stesso anno 1918, quasi ad esito naturale della
formazione del nuovo partito, poco orga- nizzato e poco «costituito »,
s'istituirono invece i « Fasci politici futuristi », più attivi e vitali
particolarmente in diverse città dell'Italia centrale e settentrionale,
la prima ossatura su cui si sarebbero appoggiati e sarebbero cre-
sciuti i muovi « Fasci di combattimento », voluti e pro- mossi da
Mussolini quattro mesi dopo. Nel febbraio del '19 i Fasci futuristi erano
già una ventina, tra quelli di Roma (Balla, Carli, Bottai, d'Alba e
Chiti), Milano (Mari- netti, Buzzi, Somenzi e Bontempelli), Firenze
(Settimel- li, Rosai, Marasco), Perugia (Dottori), Genova (Depero),
Torino (Azari), e poi ancora Bologna, Palermo, Napoli, Fiume, Messina,
Ferrara, Piacenza, Venezia, Taranto, Mo- dena, Stradella, ecc. I
futuristi avevano quindi accolto con entusiasmo l'iniziativa e vi si
erano immersi fino a determinare una prima ossatura: l’organizzazione. E
Mus- solini a sua volta aveva visto di buon occhio e seguìto la
formazione dei Fasci politici futuristi, sino a « scopri re » in essi un
punto d'appoggio per la sua campagna combattentistica ed antisocialista
che si concretizzerà nei suoi Fasci di combattimento (quelli di Piazza
San Sepolcro). Carli, come condirettore di Rowza futurista e dietro
spinta di Marinetti stesso, caldeggiava da tempo, anche dalle colonne del
suo nuovo periodico, l’avvicen- damento e l'annessione degli arditi al
partito politico, di cui sul primo numero del giornale si pubblicava il
rivolu- zionario programma: era il 20 settembre 1918. Dieci
giorni dopo, il 30 settembre 1918, le proposte politiche si fanno più
tecniche, più « specializzate », più particolari. Volt firmerà un testo «
dinamico » per dichia- rare: « Sostituiremo il Parlamento con le
tappresentan- ze dei sindacati agricolo-industriali ed operai. La
rappre- sentenza sindacale sarà la base dello “Stato tecnico” futu-
rista ». Ma allora di quale rappresentanza sindacale si ttat- rerà e
quale sarà riconosciuta dallo Stato nella sua veste di personalità
giuridica? Sono tutti problemi che già Volt si pone e così, a suo modo, «
risolve », e continua: «To credo non si debba tener conto del numero
degli iscritti al sindacato, ma della importanza della funzione
economica che esso esercita nel Paese ». Ed ancora, prosegue ad in-
terrogatsi: « Quali saranno i limiti posti all'esercizio del potere
dell'assemblea eletta mediante la rappresentanza sindacale? La competenza
dell'assemblea dovrà essere li- mitata alle questioni prevalentemente
economiche, che so- no del resto le più importanti in politica. Le
questioni di famiglia, di politica estera, ecc. dovranno esser
risolte II! 'EUE vu SS it: _gLZffkfkzstllEaAaz:F:=+”sx«x:®(
'81‘daoiaaiA'.°’°à0‘@e ra —- in parte mediante il referendum
popolare diretto ed in parte attribuito alla competenza del potere
esecutivo ». Gli arditi venivano poi sciolti nel gennaio del
’19 dai loro reparti di ufficiali, sottufficiali e truppa, perché
considerati provocatori di disordini e di incidenti nella vita civile.
L'iniziativa era stata ovviamente criticata dai diretti interessati come
manovta socialista-giolittiana atta a disconoscere i loro meriti di guerra.
Ed anche Marinetti aveva appoggiato dalle colonne di Roma futurista 1’«
uni- ficazione » (ira futuristi ed arditi), Alla fine di
novembre del ’18 Mario Carli fondava, a conclusione di questa « campagna
», l’« Associazione fra gli Arditi d’Italia », che fu un po’ l’altra
faccia del Partito politico futurista. In breve, l'associazione atrivò a
racco- gliere circa diecimila iscritti, la maggior parte, forse,
degli ex «reparti militarizzati ». Futurismo e arditismo
Ormai anche gli arditi, nonostante lo scioglimento del- la loro
organizzazione paramilitare, hanno una consistenza civile ed in certo
modo un loro peso politico. Tanto da poter fondare un loro organo di
stampa che prende a uscire a Milano dall’11 di maggio 1919: il
settimanale L’Ardito, edito dall’Associazione nazionale, e
condiretto da Ferruccio Vecchi e, non a caso, da Mario Carli. Nello
stesso periodo altre furono le voci di stampa allineate su analoghe
posizioni: Armando Mazza, per esempio, fondò a Milano I remici d'Italia,
settimanale « antibolscevico »; il più importante di questi giornali «
minori » fu però L’Assalto, pubblicato a Bologna come voce
dell’arditismo, e diretto da Nanni Leone Castelli. Marinetti ed i
futuri- sti non potevano a questo punto non vedere negli arditi dei
nuovi futuristi politici, così come Mussolini non po- teva non vedere in
loro dei potenziali simpatizzanti e allea- ti. La pronta adesione di
molti di essi ai Fasci di combat- timento lo dimostrerà
definitivamente. Arditismo e futurismo furono dunque componenti
es- dd senziali del nuovo insorgente fascismo. Almeno
dal punto di vista ideologico, o formativo del suo nascere.
Mussoli- ni aveva, per così dire, « abiuraro » il suo vecchio
socia- lismo e aveva bisogno di una forza nuova, una forza idea- le
o di pensiero che gli permettesse il suo «slancio in avanti ». Il
futurismo gliela porgeva già bell'e pronta, o quasi, mentre il precedente
socialismo gli alimentava certi spunti sociali, in parte, almeno, già
presenti nel futurismo. L'arditismo, ancora, gli comunicava una spinta,
una forza di aggressività e di « assalto », che forse gli sarebbe
man- cata, o non sarebbe stata, senza di esso, tanto irruente.
L'11 gennaio il futuro « duce » partecipava a Milano ad una «
serata futurista » contro Bissolati, alla Scala, con- tribuendo in parte
al suo « siluramento ». C'era anche Marinetti e, forse, non fu un caso, e
si trattò di un incon- tro importante. II 23 marzo dello
stesso anno in una riunione milanese a Piazza San Sepolcro, presieduta da
Ferruccio Vecchi, Ma- rinetti tenne un discorso alla presenza di Dessy e
di altri arditi e futuristi, per la fondazione dei Fasci di
combatti- mento, decisa da Mussolini. Questi propose come pro-
gramma ai nuovi raggruppamenti l'abolizione del Senato, il suffragio
universale, il sindacalismo nazionale, ricona- scendo «le rivendicazioni
d'ordine materiale e morale » agli ex-combattenti e rimproverando al
partito socialista di essere stato « nettamente reazionario,
assolutamente conservatore », col negargli così qualsiasi possibilità
di « mettersi alla testa di un'azione di rinnovamento e di
ricostruzione ». La conclusione del discorso, antimassima- lista ed
antitotalitaria, era in fondo quanto mai « futu- rista ». Così terminava
il Mussolini: « Noi conosciamo soltanto la dittatura della volontà
e dell’intelligenza ». Al termine della riunione si nominava un comitato
centrale dei Fasci di combattimento di cui facevano parte anche
Vecchi e Marinetti. Il 1° di aprile Marinetti venne nominato
insieme a Mussolini membro della commissione di lavoro nazionale
per Ia propaganda e la stampa. Ancora in aprile a Milano nuclei di
futuristi, arditi e « principianti » fascisti assali- tu
rono la sede del quotidiano socialista Avanti! Il giorno dopo i «
fattacci » del 15 aprile, visto il mancato inter vento delle forze
dell’ordine nel prender provvedimenti contro i promotori dell'azione,
Vecchi e Marinetti emise- ro un « proclama agli italiani » a nome dei
futuristi, degli arditi e dei fasci: « Nella giornata del 15 aprile
avevamo assolutamente deciso, con Mussolini, di non fare alcuna
controdimostrazione perché prevedevamo il conflitto e ab- biamo orrore di
versare sangue italiano. La nostra con- trodimostrazione si formò,
spontanea, per invincibile vo- lontà popolare. Fummo costretti a reagire
contro la pro- vocazione premeditata degli imboscati. Col nostro
inter- vento intendiamo di affermare il diritto assoluto dei quat-
tro milioni di combattenti vittoriosi, che soli devono diri- gere e
dirigeranno ad ogni costo la nuova Italia ». La « controdimostrazione »
si riferisce ad una manifestazione socialista all'Arena, cui seguì la «
battaglia di Via Mer- canti », dove furono chiari, secondo i reduci,
alcuni mo- menti di provocazione nei confronti del combattentismo
{da qui, l'assalto all’Avanti!). Sempre nell'aprile del *19 esce a
Milano per i tipi del- l’Editore Facchi un volume politico di Marinetti,
forse il suo più importante: si tratta di Democrazia futurista, che
porta come sottotitolo « dinamismo politico ». E' una rac- colta di
articoli apparsi su Roma futurista e che appari ranno sul nuovo giornale
di Vecchi, L’Ardito, generoso sempre di spazio per Marinetti. Questi
definisce il suo « concetto democratico » in un altro articolo edito in
apri- le sempre dall’Ardito: « Vogliamo dunque creare una vera
democrazia cosciente e audace che sia la valutazione e l'esaltazione del
numero poiché avrà il maggior numero di individui geniali. L'Italia
rappresenta nel mondo una specie di minoranza genialissima tutta
costituita di indivi- dui superiori alla media umana per forza creatrice,
inno- vatrice, improvvisatrice. Questa democrazia entrerà natu-
ralmente in competizione con la maggioranza formata dal- le altre
Nazioni, per le quali il numero significa invece massa più o meno cieca,
cioè democrazia incosciente ». Certo, si tratta di una nuova cancezione
di democrazia, 26 che con quella tradizionale, anche
attuale, non ha niente a che vedere. E' una lotta di democtazie, o una
demo- crazia di lotta, il che alla fin fine non è poi molto
diverso. E’ una vera e propria concezione dinamica. Che, tanto per
tener conto del suo opposto si mette a confronto, a dire di Marinetti,
così: « Arturo Labriola definisce la de- mocrazia "come sentimento
dei diritti concreti della mas- sa sullo Stato e sulla Economia“... Noi
intendiamo la de- mocrazia italiana come massa di individui geniali,
divenu- ta petciò facilmente cosciente del suo diritto e natural
mente plasmatrice del suo divenire statale. La sua forza è fatta di
questo diritto acquisito, moltiplicata dalla sua quantità valore, meno il
peso delle cellule morte (tradi. zione), meno il peso delle cellule
malate (incoscienti, anal- fabeti). La democtazia italiana è per noi un
corpo umano che bisogna liberare, scatenare, alleggerire per
accelerar- ne la velocità e centuplicarne il rendimento... ». Come
potrebbe essere più futurista e avanzata questa nuova con- cezione
democratica « progressiva »? Che così, giustamen- te, si conclude e si
definisce: «La democrazia futurista è ormai pronta ad agire, poiché sente
vibrare tutte le sue cellule vive ». E’ il punto d'arrivo,
logico e conseguenziale, di una concezione « d’assalto ». E per la
definizione ulteriore del- le posizioni e dei concetti, il 27 aprile 1919
ancora, sulle pagine di Roma futurista, un testo di Mario Carli
(Non chiamatela reazione) afferma: «Non è per l’ordine, non è in
difesa dell’autorità costituita o della borghesia vile, non è in appoggio
alla così detta “benemerita” che noi ci siamo battuti a Milano, e ci
batteremo altrove, se se ne presenterà l’occasione. Ma è per un'idea, per
un princi- pio: è per l’idea di patria, è per il principio di
progresso, che noi crediamo realizzabile con mezzi e con metodi op-
posti a muelli dei rivoluzionari russi ». Ciò nonostante Gramsci e
Lunaciarsky, al TI Congres- so dell'Internazionale comunista, difendono i
futuristi ita- liani e li considerano veri e propri « rivoluzionari ».
E Lenin medesimo dità a Giacinto Menotti Serrati, che, co-
DI A me direttore dell’Avanti!, si era
recato a Mosca a respi- rare il nuovo comunismo: «In Italia ci sono
soltanto tre uomini che possono fare la rivoluzione: Mussolini,
D'Annunzio e Marinetti ». Mentre a proposito di questo ultimo, cioè di
Marinetti e del suo movimento futurista, Gramsci così annotava in un suo
articolo pubblicato su Ordine nuovo nel 1921: « Distruggere, in questo
campo, non ha lo stesso significato che nel campo economico...
significa non avere paura della vanità e delle audacie, non avere paura
dei mostri, non credere che il mondo caschi se un operaio fa errori di
grammatica, se una poesia zoppica, se un quadro assomiglia a un
cartellone... I futu- risti hanno svolto questo compito nel campo della
cultura borghese... hanno avuto cioè una concezione nettamente
rivoluzionaria ». E continuava a migliore definizione del concetto: «
...Quando i socialisti si sarebbero spaventati al pensiero che bisognava
spezzare la macchina del potere borghese nello Stato e nella fabbrica, i
futuristi, nel loro campo, nel campo della cultura, sono rivoluzionari:
in que- sto campo, come opera creativa, è probabile che la classe
operaia non riuscirà per molto tempo a far di più di quan- to hanno fatto
i futuristi! » L'11 luglio del '19 Marinetti otteneva un biglietto
d'’in- vito alla Tribuna di Montecitorio. Andò con Ferruccio
Vecchi, gran capitano, ad aspettare un momento opportu- no per l’«
intervento ». L'occasione fu data alla fine del discorso di un deputato
socialista (Lucci). Martinetti si sporse e, rivolto a Nitti, gridò: « A
nome dei Fasci di Combattimento, dei futuristi, e degli intellettuali,
prote- sto per la vostra politica e vi urlo: Abbasso Nitti! Morte
al Giolittismo! Dichiaro che non può sussistere il Mini- stero dei
sabotatori della Vittoria, degli schiaffeggiatori de- gli ufficiali, un
ministero che si difende coi carabinieri e coi poliziotti!..
Vergognatevi! La gioventù italiana, per bocca mia, vi urla: Fate schifo!
Fate schifo! ». Vecchi an- cora inveisce a voce alta contro Nitti, mentre
Marinetti lotta con usceri e carabinieri, come descrive egli stesso nel
suo Futurismo e Fascismo di cinque anni dopo. L’indoma- ni avrebbe
ricevuto da D'Annunzio la presente missiva: 2R « Mio
caro Marinetti, bravo per il grido di ieri, coraggioso come ogni vostro
atto. Vorrei vedervi. Se potete, venite. Il vostro Gabriele D'Annunzio ».
In settembre Mario Carli, con Mino Somenzi ed altri futuristi,
partecipano con D'Annunzio alla presa di Fiume (11 del mese): vi si
recheranno anche Vecchi e Marinetti a tenere discorsi ai legionari. Anzi,
i due personaggi sembra fossero considerati, a dire di De Felice «
facinorosi sovver- sivi » o addirittura in qualche caso « bolscevici »,
per il loro atteggiamento intransigente ed estremistico.° Tanto che
si era detto fossero stati espulsi da Fiume, mentre erano stati solo
richiamati da Paselia, segretario politico dei Fasci, che aveva bisogno
di loro per l'organizzazione, forse, del primo congresso fascista.
All'inizio di ottobre, infatti, Marinetti partecipa a Firenze al I
Congresso dei Fasci di Combattimento dove, dopo l'intervento di
Mus- soltni, parla a futuristi, arditi e fascisti sostenendo la ne-
cessità dello « svaticanamento »: « Noi dobbiamo doman- dare. volere,
imporre », dice fra l’altro il capo del futu- rismo, « l’espulsione del
papato, o meglio ancora, per usa- re un'espressione più precisa, lo
“svaticanamento” ». Nel novembre le elezioni generali vengono
condotte a Milano all'insegna del « blocco fascista » con lista
autono- ma di Mussolini, Marinetti (secondo), Toscanini, Podrec- ca
e Bolzon. Comizi elettorali si tennero a Milano in Piaz- za Belgioioso
(10 novembre) e in Piazza S. Alessandro e a Monza, dove parlarono sempre
« accoppiati » Marinetti e Mussolini. Dopo il 16 novembre, giorno delle
votazioni, in seguito ad incidenti coi socialisti, Marinetti, Vecchi
e Mussolini furono atrestati sotto l'accusa di attentato alla
sicurezza dello Stato ed organizzazione di bande armate, come afferma
ancora il De Felice. Breton e Aragon, direttori della rivista
Littersture, or- ganizzano a Parisi una manifestazione di solidarietà a
Ma- tinetti: sono i momenti di affermazione del dadaismo e del
muoversi, lento, verso il surrealismo. Renzo De Felice, Mussolini
i! Rivoluzionario, Gli incontri e gli scontri, oltre che gli incidenti,
tra socialisti e futuristi non etano cosa nuova. E la « battaglia
di Via Mercanti » del 15 aprile fu solamente il punto di arrivo di una
vecchia e lunga polemica. Già negli anni prebellici il futurismo si
era scontrato col socialismo neutralista (Turati), che non poteva
andar d’accordo con un movimento intrinsecamente interventista.
Lacerba, per esempio, entrava nella polemica affiancandosi al futurismo e
pubblicando, il 15 ottobre del ’13, quel famoso Programma politico
futurista, esaminato in pre- cedenza. La postilla di Giovanni Papini non
fa altro che convalidare, sia pure con riserva, la sostanza del
pro- gramma. A proposito di socialismo interviene poi nel '14
sempre sv Lacerba, Ardengo Soffici, affermando nel suo articolo Per
la guerra che « l’idea che i socialisti si fanno del mon- do è questa: un
capitalista borghese e sfruttatore alle prese con un magro popolano
sfruttato. La cultura, le scienze, le arti, la bellezza, i sentimenti,
gli amori, le passioni — tutto ciò insomma che fa la vita così
terribilmente com- plessa, così colorita, così varia, multiforme,
incoetcibile — non è nulla per loro. Tutto è grigio, e l'universo intero
una specie di ragnatela squallida senza confini né orizzonti,
eterna, in mezzo alla quale un ragno cetca di succhiare una mosca alla
quale Karl Marx ha insegnato che non deve lasciarsi succhiare ». Sicché,
conclude Soffici, i socia- listi nemmeno capiscono che si combatte una
guerra per difendere anche, magari, le loro stesse idee, o il mondo
dove l’idea socialista è nata e cresciuta, contro i nemici medesimi del
socialismo e dei socialisti: i tedeschi. Ma questo non ha nessuna
importanza, « giacché, ed eccoci alla mentalità di codesto partito, ogni
buon socialista non vede nella guerra, qualunque essa sia, se non una
lotta di capitalisti e banchieri contro capitalisti e banchieri i
quali si servono del proletariato per liquidare le loro partite ».
La polemica continua com'è logico, dopo la guerra. Il primo ad
accenderla è Mario Carli su Roma futurista con un articolo del 13 luglio
1919, che ha un titolo signi- ficativo: Partiti d'avanguardia: se
tentassimo di collabora- re? Laddove si considera « partito d'avanguardia
», ovvia- mente, anche quello socialista, che tanta parte ha
esercita- to nella storia d'Italia. « Ho esaminato seriamente
l'ipo- tesi », esordisce Carli, « di una collaborazione fra noi
{futu- risti, arditi, fascisti, combattenti, ecc.) e i Partiti
cosiddetti d'avanguardia: socialisti ufficiali, riformisti, sindacalisti,
re- pubblicani... Il terreno comune c’è... E' la lotta contro le
attuali classi dirigenti, grette, incapaci e disoneste, si chia. mino
borghesia e plutoctazia o pescecanismo o parlamen.- tarismo... sono una
casta che deve cadere e cadrà », E cad- de infatti, come sappiamo, però
non certo per merito di quei socialisti con cui Carli stava cercando di
trovate un punto di contatto, sia pur rendendosi conto che la
collabo- razione sarebbe stata difficile per non dire impossibile
o, peggio, inutile. Ciò nonostante Giuseppe Bottai farà eco
alla sua tesi con un paio di lunghi articoli: uno del 9 novembre e
l'al. tro del 21 dicembre 1919 entrambi col titolo Futurismo contro
socialismo, il cui succo riesce già evidente. « Noi siamo contro il
socialismo », afferma Bottai, « perché astra- zione filosofica senza
possibilità di contatti vitali. Simbolo che si agifa nel mondo da secoli,
e di cui mai si è trovato, e mai si troverà la formula di traduzione in
positivi sviluppi di masse sociali... Noi siamo contro l’idea socialista perché
sosteniamo la necessità della diseguaglianza... Siamo con- tro il
socialismo perché idea generatrice di vigliaccheria ». Ii 14
dicembre sempre del 1919, tuttavia, certo Man- narese, avversario,
pubblica un articolo per espotre l’impos- sibile intesa fra le due
avanguardie, o l'impossibilità di ac- cordo in unione d’intenti e di
lavoro. Il Mannarese sotto- linea l'identità di socialismo e masse
proletarie con loro relative e legittime aspirazioni. Romza futurista non
gli ne. sa spazio, ospitandolo apertamente e liberamente. Ci
pensa Bottai a rispondere e confutare Mannarese col suo secondo articolo
preciso ed aggressivo. Il titolo: Insisto: futurismo contro socialismo;
la data, 21 dicembre dello stesso anno. La posizione polemica si
specifica e si SAI puntualizza: « Prima
caratteristica del futurismo è questa, libera, sciolta sfrenata
spregiudicatezza: e se il salumaio ci crede oggi difensore dei suoi
salami, delle sue salsicce, poco male! ciò potrà darci la prova della sua
minchioneria, non già infirmare l'esattezza del grido “futurismo contro
socialismo” ». L’intonazione antibotghese è evidente e forse si
spo- sa, per così dire, con quella antisocialista, essendo l'una
complementare all'altra, e viceversa. Non si può essere antisocialisti
senza essere antiborghesi, e viceversa non si può essere antiborghesi
senza essere antisocialisti, sembra quasi che dica Giuseppe Bottai, e
l’invettiva contro il sa- lumaio non ha nient'altro che questo
sapote... L'equazione « socialismo-proletariato », sostenuta
dal Mannarese, è vacua e falsa, dice Bottai, e bisogna distin-
guere, perché va da sé, afferma, che «il socialismo è uno dei tanti
sistemi, i quali, da che il mondo è mondo, si accaniscono sulla disparità
di condizioni delle classi ». Lo esempio dato poi, del fenomeno
dell’arditismo, è quanto meno sufficiente e significativo a smentire una
tesi tanto inutile. Infatti, « in parecchi mesi di convivenza con
le fiamme nere mi son trovato attorno solo contadini, ope- rai,
lavoratori-proletari! »; e gli arditi non erano certo so- cialisti, anzi.
Tuttavia l’autore è ben consapevole della « portata economica » del
socialismo e nello stesso tempo delle esigenze dei ceti umili o dei
proletari, e degli scompen- si derivanti da queste esigenze anche per la
loro « cattura » da parte di un socialismo ignorante e incapace.
L'individuazione dell'errore di dimensione del sociali smo è
evidente, nonostante i successi già conseguiti. Tanto che, concludeva il
Botrai, nel cogliere le possibilità della formazione di un letale
assolutismo, con la postulazione del- la differenziazione futuristica da
esso, intesa nella diffusione di programmi e di rimedi economici: « Noi
siamo per la elevazione del popolo, e non per l'assolutismo di esso
». Dove « il nai », è evidente, si riferisce ai futuristi ed al
loro movimento. « Tirando le somme », alla fine, si postula
petsino un programma, quasi, nei rapporti col socialismo, di cui i
32 punti più interessanti sono il secondo ed il quarto,
cioè l'ultimo. Il secondo postilla una « possibile comunanza di
vedute economiche: il che non implica nessuna fusione »; l'ultimo
sostiene e ribadisce, sottolineandolo tutto in maiu- scolo: « CONTRO IL
SOCIALISMO NON VUOLE DI- RE CONTRO IL PROLETARIATO ». La
miopia del socialismo nella considerazione dei futu- risti appare
evidente e inequivocabile. E si parla del so- cialismo dei primi del
secolo, quello storicamente più « ca- pace » di quanto non lo sia
l'attuale, e consono ad una realtà « epocale » ad esso, tutto sommato,
più favorevole. L’esito del socialismo italiano, confluito in massima
parte nel fascismo, non fa che confermare l'opinione o l’ipotesi
dei futuristi, che avevano saputo vedere la sua « minima portata » da
inserire, eventualmente, nel panorama di una prospettiva ben più vasta e
diversificata. A Fiume Gabriele D'Annunzio dà alla luce la sua «
Carta del Carnaro ». Siamo agli inizi del ’20 e la nuova proclamazione statutaria
sarà base fondamentale per la suc- cessiva politica sindacale fascista
(si veda la Carta del La- voro ad esempio). Sempre a Fiume Mario Carli
dirige il nuovo foglio di vita istriama La Testa di Ferro, sulle
cui colonne (la seconda, per l'esattezza, della prima pagina) ;l 12
settembre esce un riquadro firmato da Marinetti. Che così commenta la
Prima vittoria della quindicesima batta- glia, come dice il titolo della
pagina: « Nell’applaudite oggi D'Annunzio, liberatore di Fiume, penso che
questo mera- viglioso genio riassuntivo della nostra razza, uscito
dalle alcove del Pizcere... dopo aver esplorato le profondità del
la lussuria... ha logicamente... strappato Fiume all’imperia- lismo
europeo e americano, ed ora deve, seguendo la linea della sua fortuna
inesauribile, logicamente, con genio sem- pre più rivoluzionario e
futurista, liberare Roma dal Pa- pato e dalla Monarchia, e creare la
grande Repubblica Ita- liana ». Siamo di fronte aul'« ittedentismo
integrale » che i futnristi sostenevano contro l’« irredentismo mutilato »
di Bissolati, favorevole al Patto di Londra. Di cui il movimento
per contro chiedeva un’« estensione », oltre che una modi- ficazione del
Patto di Roma in modo che si potesse favo- rire l’inserimento italiano
sulla costa dalmata e garantire all'Italia l'egemonia sull’Adriatico. Il
Trattato di Rapallo, poco dopo, dichiarerà Fiume «città libera » ed
assegnerà Zara all'Italia. 11 24 e 25 maggio dello stesso
anno si tiene a Milano il IX Congresso dei Fasci di Combattimento, che
segna una svolta del movimento o anche — si potrebbe dire — una sua
conversione in senso « conservatore ». Si assiste ad un parziale ma
consistente ricambio del nucleo dirigente fa- scista. Solo 10 membri su
19 del comitato centrale eletto a Fitenze vengono riconfermati: tra essi
Marinetti e Ferruc- cio Vecchi. Mussolini sostiene un nuovo
indirizzo: l'accordo fra proletariato e borghesia produttiva, tipico di
quel fascismo « provinciale » che stava prendendo il sopravvento. Mari-
netti reagisce confermando la sua intransigenza antimonar- chica ed
antipontificia. I Fasci di Combattimento, come riporta ancora il De
Felice, avrebbero dovuto, secondo Marinetti, iniziare « una politica
decisa in difesa delle ri- vendicazioni proletarie, appoggiando e scioperi
e agitazio- ni che siano fondati o formulati su un principio di
giu- stizia ». Mussolini aveva cercato di replicare che i Fasci «
hanno anzi aiutato gli scioperi che avevano un chiaro contenuto economico
», ma aveva sottolineato di non po- ter accettare la pregiudiziale
antimonarchica e: « Quanto al Papato, bisogna intendersi: il Vaticano
rappresenta 400 milioni di uomini sparsi... Io sono, oggi,
completamente al di fuori di ogni religione, ma i problemi politici
sono problemi politici. Racconta lo stesso capo del futurismo nel
suo volume Futurismo e Fascismo pubbli cato quattro anni dopo, «
Marinetti e alcuni capi futuri- sti escono dai Fasci di Combattimento,
non avendo potuto imporre alla maggioranza fascista la loro tendenza
antimonarchica e anticlericale ». Gli altri «capi futuristi» sono Mario Carli e
Neri Nannetti, appena eletto a Milano come membro del comitato centrale
per Firenze. Ferruccio Vecchi si allontanò dai Fasci poco dopo,
anche per la crisi interna che stava attanagliando l’« Associa-
zione fra gli Arditi d’Italia ». La spaccatura risulta evidente
all'uscita dell’opuscalo Al di là del comunismo, pubblicato in agosto da
Marinetti, per giustificazione alle sue dimissioni ed in risposta allo
svuotamento della portata rivoluzionaria, o futurista, dei Fasci di
Combattimento. Al di lè del Comunismo sarà la sua seconda opeta politica
(dopo Democrazia futurista, del ’19), quella più ricca di spunti e di
idee: quella, in- somma, sua fondamentale. L'opera è dedicata
sul colophox « Ai futuristi francesi, inglesi, spagnoli, russi,
ungheresi, rumeni, giapponesi »: it che esprime già tutto un programma.
Fra le sue tesi, dd esempio queste: « Noi futuristi abbiamo stroncato
tut- te le ideologie imponendo dovunque la nostra nuova con- cezione
della vita, le nostre formule d’igiene spirituale, il nostto dinamismo
estetico, sociale, espressione sincera dei nostri temperamenti d’italiani
creatori e rivoluzionari... L'umanità cammina verso l'individualismo
anarchico, me- ta e sogno di ogni spirito forte. Il Comunismo invece
è una vecchia formula mediocrista, che la stanchezza e la paura
della guerra riverniciano oggi e trasformano in mo- da spirituale... La
storia, la vita e la terra appartengono agli improvvisatori. Odiamo la
caserma militarista quanto la caserma comunista. Il genio anarchico
deride e spacca il catcere comunista ». Fu questo passo a
provocare la reazione dell’Ardito? Che ben presto si fece sentire, a più
riprese, per deni- grare il volumetto marinettiano, mentre al contrario
La Testa di Ferro ad opera di un gruppo di futuristi fiumani (e di
Mario Carli, ardito a sua volta) elogiava pubblica- mente ed ardentemente
il nuovo testo. Bottai, già futu- tista, interverrà ben presto (sul n. 35
dell’Ardito) con una «lettera aperta a F.T. Marinetti » per mettere in
ri- salto la sua posizione critica all’atteggiamento anarchicheg-
piante dello scritto, inconciliabile con qualunque espressione di potere, sia
pur di tipo « tecnico », come quello a suo tempo proposto dallo stesso «
padre » del futuri smo. L'attacco di Bottai è senz'altro il più
autorevole e i] più significativo. L'ideologia del
fascismo-regime (da parte di un mini stro in pectore come Bottai)
cominciava già a farsi sen- tire. E si chiudeva, ovviamente, almeno sul
terreno sto- rico della prassi politica, l'ideologia del
fascismo-movi- mento, quello dell’intransigenza e del fervore mistico,
del libertarismo e dell'avanguardia, dell'anarchismo e dell’an-
tiautoritarismo verso la monarchia ed il papato. Il pos- sibilismo
politico e il realismo tattico per la conquista del potere subentrano e
il fascismo-regime si muove or- mai, anche se lentamente, sotto la guida
del suo abile e « compromesso condottiero ». A Marinetti non
restano che le dimissioni, e dopo il suo « canto del cigno » politico (Al
di là del comunismo), il ritorno alla letteratura. 10. La
dimensione futurista Nel 1921 esce a Piacenza per i tipi
dell'Editore Porta il volume di Francesco Flora Dal Romanticismo al
Fu- turismo. Il giudizio più interessante è senz’altro quello di
Luigi Russo, che così si esprime al proposito: «Il Flora, mentre vi grida
il superamento sillogistico dell’ar- te decadente, la guarigione del suo
spirito dal generale futurismo, passa poi egli stesso a fare troppo
rumorosa e compiaciuta mescolanza con quell'arte e con quel futu-
rismo ». Pirandello pubblica nello stesso anno I sei per- sonaggi in
cerca d'autore. Marinetti sostiene che sono ispirati al futurismo e al
suo spirito creatore. Il con- gresso socialista di Livorno si spacca, e
dalla scissione si forma il neonato partito comunista. A Catania
vede la luce la nuova rivista futurista Heschisch. Nel 1922
il fascismo salirà definitivamente al potete. Marinetti fonda una nuova
rivista, I{ Futurismo, che di- rige in prima persona. A Berlino sarà poi
tradotta in edizione tedesca (Der Futurismus), a cura di Ruggero Va-
sari. Bragaglia fonda a Roma il Teatro Sperimentale de- gli Indipendenti,
primo teatro stabile italiano, da Ivi di retto fino al ’36: metterà in
scena duecento opere d'’avan- guardia fra quelle di autori italiani e
stranieri. A_ Monza si crea l’Istituto Superiore delle Arti decorative,
trasfor- mato poi in Biennale e dal ’30 definitivamente in Trien-
nale, con sede nel palazzo di Milano (al parco, arch. Mu- zio).
Mussolini, dopo la marcia su Roma del 28 ottobre, forma il governo con
radicali e liberali, e istituisce il Gran Consiglio del Fascismo.
Giuseppe Prezzolini, come sempre lucidamente, poco prima del «
grande ritorno » del futurismo al fascismo, metteva ancora una volta in
risalto «come possa l'arte futurista andare d'accordo con il Fascismo
italiano, non si vede. C'è un equivoco, nato da una vicinanza di per.
sone, da un’accidentalità d’incontri, da un ribollire di forze, che ha
portato Marinetti accanto a Mussolini. Ciò andava bene durante il periodo
della rivoluzione. Ciò stona in un periodo di governo. Il Fascismo
italiano non può accettare il programma distruttivo del Futuri smo,
anzi, deve, per la sua logica italiana, restaurare | valori che
contrastano al Futurismo. La disciplina e la gerarchia politica sono
gerarchia e disciplina anche lette- raria. Le parole vanno all’aria
quando vanno all'aria le gerarchie politiche. Il Fascismo, se vuole veramente
vin- cere la sua battaglia, deve ormai considerare come as- sotbito
il Futurismo in quello che il Futurismo poteva avere di eccitante, e di
reprimerlo in tutto quello che esso consetva ancora di rivoluzionario, di
anticlassico, di indisciplinato dal punto di vista dell’arte » (da I/
Secolo, 3 luglio 1923). Nel marzo dello stesso 1923
s'inaugura alla Galleria Pesaro di Milano una mostra dell'« Arte del
Novecento ». Si trattava di un gruppo formatosi alla fine del ’22
in- torno alla medesima galleria milanese, che affiancava la nuova
tendenza del regime in senso conservatote, già san- cita dal 2° Congresso
Fascista (Milano, maggio 1920). L'animatrice del nuovo movimento « Arte
del Novecen- 37 to» era Margherita Sarfatti. Il
gruppo fu accolto, nean- che due anni dopo dalla sua costituzione, alla
Biennale veneziana del ’24, e si affermò definitivamente attraverso
due ulteriori mostre: una del '26 al Palazzo della Perma- nente a Milano,
e l'altra del ’29 alla Galleria Pesaro, sempre a Milano. I futuristi
invece, rimasti esterni al regime e aderenti ancora, in fondo,
all'avanguardia, fu- rono ammessi alla Biennale solo nel ’26, e fuori dal
pa- diglione italiano additittura. All'inaugurazione della Biennale,
Marinetti si rivolge al Re, a Venezia in visita ufficiale, e gli
de- nuncia gridando «l’incapacità senile e antitaliana della
Direzione, che massacra i giovani artisti italiani ». L’in- tervento di
Marinetti suscita scandalo. Tuttavia nello stes- so anno 1924 si verifica
anche un cetto riavvicinamen- to tra futurismo e fascismo, e forse anche
tra Marinetti e Mussolini. L’occasione viene data dall’edizione
della terza ed ultima opera politica del capo futurista, che, co-
me già detto, s'intitola Futurismo e Fascismo, ed esce a Foligno per i
tipi dell'Editore Campitelli. Ancora nello stesso anno escono
diverse altre signifi- cative testate, futuriste ma anche fasciste. Mino
Maccari fonda I! Selvaggio (organo del fascismo strapaesano) ed
Enzo Benedetto a Reggio Calabria pubblica il foglio fu- turista
Originalità, da lui stesso direrto: compaiono fra i suoi collaboratori
Marinetti, Jannelli, Nicastro e Sanzin, Quest'ultimo scrive un saggio su
Marinetti e il futurismo. Gerardo Dottori, altra collaboratore di
Originalità, crea le prime aeropitture, che si affermeranno in seguito
come espressioni del « secondo futurismo ». A Milano si
tiene il Primo congresso futurista e So- menzi vi organizza le onoranze
nazionali a Marinetti. Siamo al 23 di novembre 1924, ore 10, al Teatro
Dal Verme di Milano. Mino Somenzi legge il telegramma di Mussolini:
« Considerami presente adunata futurista che sintetizza 20 anni di grandi
battaglie artistiche politiche spesso consacrate col sangue. Congresso
deve essere punto di partenza, non punto di arrivo. Credi mia cordiale
ami- cizia e ammirazione ». Alle 16 parla Marinetti, che conclude i
lavori del congresso, così rivolgendosi all’indirizzo del « duce »: «I
futuristi italiani, primi fra i primi in- terventisti nelle piazze e sui
campi di battaglia, e primi fra i primi diciannovisti più che mai devoti
alle idee ed all'arte, lontani dal politicantismo, dicono al loro
vecchio compagno Benito Mussolini: Con un gesto di forza ormai
indispensabile liberati dal parlamento. Restituisci al Fa- scismo ed
all'Italia Ia meravigliosa anima diciannovista, disinteressata, ardita,
antisocialista, anticlericale, antimo. narchica. Concedi alla Monarchia
soltanto la sua provvi- sotia funzione unitaria, rifiutale quella di
soffcare o mor. finizzare la più grande, la più geniale e la più giusta
Italia di domani. Non imitare l’inimitabile Giolitti, imita il
Grande Mussolini del diciannove. Pensa sempre all’Italia immortale ed al
Carso divino. Schiaccia l'opposizione cle. ricale antitaliana di Don
Sturzo, l'opposizione socialista antitaliana di Turati e l'opposizione
mediocrista di A’ bertini con una ferrea dinamica aristocrazia di
pensiero armato che soppianti l’attuale demagogia d’armi senza
pensiero. Tu puoi e devi fare ciò, noi dobbiamo volerlo e lo vogliamo ».
Lo vollero, ma non lo realizzarono. La volontà può essere bella, ardita,
ispira ai più alti sensi di giustizia, anche se non sempre la
realizzazione le tiene dietro. Come in questo caso. Mussolini
telegrafa ancora il 1° marzo del ’25 ad un banchetto « romano » offerto
da Carli e Settimelli a Ma: rinetti: « Sono dolente di non poter
intervenire al ban: chetto ofterto a F.T. Marinetti. Ma desidero che vi
giun- ga la mia fervida adesione che non è espressione formale ma
vivo segno di grandissima simpatia per l’infaticabile e geniale assertore
di Italianità, per il poeta innovatore che mi ha dato la sensazione
dell'oceano e della macchi- na, per il mio caro vecchio amico delle prime
battaglie fasciste, per il saldato intrepido che ha offerto alla Pa
tria una passione indomita consacrata dal sangue ». Ma. rinetti si era
già trasferito a Roma con Benedetta. La capitale diveniva così anche
centro del futurismo. In que. sta stessa occasione Marinetti dichiarava,
un'altra volta inascoltato: « Vi sono in Italia forze che osteggiano
la nostra idea imperiale, combattiamole, non dimenticando però fra
queste la più segreta e la più antitaliana: il Vaticano! ».
Un discorso di Mussolini alla Camera (3 gennaio 1925) dà inizio al
vero fascismo-regime. A Tortino si tiene a Palazzo Madama un'esposizione
nazionale futurista. La tendenza al riavvicinamento ira i due movimenti è
già indicata nella dedica di Futurismo e Fascismo: « Al mio caro e
grande amico Benito Mussolini ». Il che dimostra, in fondo, una certa
volontà di non troncare i contatti: ma anche gli scritti raccolti, gli
articoli e le tesi sostenute sono di tipo più che altro conciliativo.
Mussolini vi è definito « meraviglioso temperamento futurista »: e
non risuoni però ad adulazione, perché il tentativo di recu- pero
del futurismo in senso artistico e letterario (o cul turale in senso
lato) è evidente, nonostante l'occasionale « dimensione » del movimento
nell'attività e nell'impegno politico. Non senza motivo, il volume prende
inizio con queste parole: «Il Futurismo è un grande movimento
antiflosofico e anticulturale di idee, intuiti, istinti, pu- gni... ». E
subito dopo: « Fra le tante definizioni io predi- ligo quella data dai
teosofi: “I futuristi sono i mistici dell’azione”. Infatti i futuristi
hanno combattuto e com- battono il passatismo... ». Il nuovo regime e la
portata storica di realizzazione di quello che si considera il
patri- monio del futurismo è così giudicato: « Vittorio Ve- neto e
l'avvento del Fascismo al potere costituirono la realizzazione del
programma minimo futurista ». Dove si dimostra in fondo la connessione
inscindibile tra futuri. smo e fascismo, ma nello stesso tempo il
distacco, in questa realizzazione « minimale »; comunque la
mancanza di coincidenza totale delle entità ideali dei due blocchi.
« Questo programma minimo », specifica ancora Ma- rinetti, «
propugnava l'orgoglio italiano... la distruzione dell'impero
austro-ungarico, l’eroismo quotidiano, l'amore del pericolo... ». Ma,
alla fine, quello che più conta è che «il Futurismo italiano, tipicamente
patriottico, che ha generato innumerevoli futurismi esteri, non ha
nulla a che fare coi loro atteggiamenti politici, come quello bolscevico
del Futurismo russo, divenuto arte di Stato ». Il futurismo italiano fu
sempre italiano, non mai italiano di Stato. « Il futurismo »,
afferma ancora il nostro, «è un mo- vimento artistico e ideologico. Interviene
nelle lotte po- litiche soltanto nelle ore di grave pericolo per la
Nazio- ne », E un'altra volta a migliore definizione della posi-
zione concettuale o della sua immagine: « Il Fascismo nato
dall'interventismo e dal Futurismo si nutrì di prin- cipî futuristi... Il
Fascismo opera politicamente... Il Fu- turismo opera invece nei domini
infiniti della pura fan- tasia, può dunque e deve osare osare osare
sempre più temerariamente. Avanguardia della sensibilità artistica
ita- liana, è necessariamente sempre in anticipo sulla lenta
sensibilità delle masse ». La consapevolezza della difficoltà del
consenso è più che sentita, ed è convinzione al tempo stesso che il
fa- scismo sia più capace di farsi accogliere o di comunicare certe
necessità, e certi principî. E la convinzione implica la coscienza che
sia il fascismo ad aver raccolto © mutuato idee e « posizioni » dal
futurismo, solo ed esclusivamente. Senza che mai sia avvenuto il
contrario. Ed appare evi- dente, perché non viene mai fatto cenno a
questa secon- da ipotesi: che cioè sia stato il futurismo ad
attingere al fascismo. Anche se affiora l’« autocritica »,
l’interroga- zione, il domandarsi sotterraneo della coscienza...
« Il lettore domanderà: “Ci sono idee futuriste su- perate o da
scartarsi, oggi?” Nulla da scartare. Le idee vittoriose tengano
fermamente le posizioni conquistate. Per esempio questo principio: “Noi
vogliamo glorificare la guerra, sola igiene del mondo... le belle idee
per cui si muore e il disprezzo della donna”, fu una pietrata fe-
roce ma necessaria nel pantano letterario di sentimenta- lismo
dannunziano sulle cui rive singhiozzavano i gio- vani malati di luna e di
donne fatali ». La condanna della decadenza di un romanticismo
fiac- co e sdolcinato che ha irretito la realtà della Penisola è
quanto mai chiara ed evidente. E la volontà di scuoterla per una
necessità di spirito, per una volontà di resurrezione, per una coscienza ancora
viva di grandezza e di capacità creativa e rinnovatrice, porta
inevitabilmente allo scontro e alla conflagrazione, quella della guerra,
che è guerra di sentimento e di volontà, prima ancora che di
occasione politica. « Oggi », continua Marinetti, « l'Italia è
piena di gio- vani forti e sportivi. Ma molti purtroppo sacrificano
ad una donna la loro volontà di conquista e l'avventura... Dopo
Vittorio Veneto io predicai la necessità per ogni combattente di
diventare un cittadino eroico... Oggi esi- ste uno Stato fascista che
tutela il diritto individuale. Ma bisogna alimentare ancora lo spirito
del cittadino eroi- co, amico del pericolo e capace di lotta, poiché
occorretà improvvisare domani gli indispensabili volontari della
nuo- va guerra. Questa, lo ripeto, è certa, forse vicina. Perciò è
sempre vivo il grido futurista: glorifichiamo la guerra sola igiene del
mondo! Il Futurismo interprete delle for- ze telluriche, il Futurismo,
manometro della nostra pe- nisola (caldaia bollente!), odia i macchinisti
incapaci. Si palesano tali i culturali d’Italia che verniciati di patriot-
tismo parlano oggi d’Impero, con un'anima pacifista pron- ti ad
imboscarsi al minimo pericolo. Essi ignorano che Impero significa guerra.
Votrebbeto conquistarlo con una lezione sulla Roma Imperiale! ». Ecco,
ancora, la coscien- za di cui parlavamo prima: quella della curiosità
anti- quaria di una cultura d’accatto non più in grado di te- nere
il passo della storia e di muovere lo spirito della giovinezza
vittoriosa. Marinetti lo coglie e lo esptime in una testimonianza, ancora
una volta, di vita e di speran- za, che è vita perché è speranza del
futuro. « Noi futuristi parliamo d’Impero convinti e lieti
di batterci domani... Parliamo d’Impero perché è venuto per
l’Italia il momento di prendere le tetre indispensabili... IÎ programma
politico futurista lanciato l’11 ottobre 1913 che propugnava una politica
estera cinica astuta e aggres- siva è più che mai di attualità. Le idee
vittoriose tengano fermamente le posizioni conquistate. Le nuove idee
si slancino all'assalto. Marciare non matcite! ». Firmato: F.T.
Marinetti. 42 Il futurismo ha dimostrato di voler
procedere sulla strada del nuovo: il fascismo lo ha accolto ed ha
accon- disceso, almeno fino a un certo punto, al suo messaggio.
Oltre è stato frenato, forse, non solo dal « borghesismo », ma anche da
quel socialismo, che avanti non è mai stato capace di andare e che di
nuovo ha portato solamente vuote formule e fantasmi. Non così il
futurismo, ben ade- rente al reale, e capace di ritirarvisi anche, nel
caso di inadempienza (o di mancanza di corrispondenza) della realtà
ai suoi messaggi. Marinetti docet, proprio con quel fascino che
aveva voluto, o con cui aveva marciato, e in cui aveva creduto
senza marcire mai, nemmeno nell’auge del regime, quan- do avrebbe potuto
sedersi sulle comode poltrone di un otmai «arrivato » futurismo di
«destra ». Ma il futuri- smo per Marinetti era e rimaneva comunque
movimento d'avanguardia artistica e culturale, nonostante gli
agganci più 0 meno politici, più o meno di regime, e nonostante
l'amicizia con Mussolini, che poteva anche essere un « fu- turista », ma
era e doveva essere prima di tutto il capo dello Stato e il « duce del
Fascismo ». E il fascismo ave- va preso e doveva tenete ormai una certa
linea, molte volte non gradita, o valida, per il futurismo, ed anzi
pro- prio al contrario. La gloria di Roma rievocata nel
monumentalismo classicheggiante, il novecentismo ricalcante vuoti
modelli di un fasullo rinnovamento filotradizionale, la riesumazio-
ne del mito della storia come copia di grandezza e no- vella misura di
falsa gloria, erano tutti temi aborriti da Marinetti proprio perché segni
ed indici di « passatismo », messaggi sterili di una mentalità ferma e
statica, incapace di dare alcunché di vitale all'Italia in movimento.
Ma- rinetti era invece, e rimaneva, anche nel fascismo e no-
nostante il fascismo, « futurista », come lui amava defi- nirsi, e come
lo rimanevano anche altri, non tutti però, anzi forse troppo
pochi. Marinetti, quindi, futurista, e futurista nonostante tut- to,
fu forse fascista solo ed esclusivamente per quel che il futurismo poteva
consentirgli di essere. Ma fu anche grande oratore Marinetti, e fu
oratore d’arte, oratore di genio letterario e improvvisatore della
parola, più 0 me- no libera o in libertà che fosse. Mussolini
fu oratore politico e parlava, anche, nella ricerca del consenso.
Marinetti invece fu poeta, e parlava per stimolare la curiosità, per
muovere l'incanto del- l'espressione. La sua oratoria fu
essenzialmente artistica, il suo discorso fu culturale e poetico.
Mussolini forse in parte la imitò, sempre attenendosi all’oratoria
politica e trasformando il messaggio letterario in presenza ideo-
logica e in colloquio « popolare ». Forse qui sta inoltre la differenza
fra i due movimenti: il futurismo avanguar- dia di rottura e il fascismo
sistema di potere. Anche se il primo l’aveva spinto e sorretto nella sua
azione di con- quista. Il fascismo è allora per un suo aspetto
futurista, e non invece il contrario. E' la realizzazione di quel « pio-
gramma minimo futurista » che abbiamo già esaminato. E Mussolini si può
dire fosse stato anche futurista, o comunque molto vicino al movimento di
Marinetti. E gli era stato anche amico, o c’era stata una reciproca
comunanza di sentimenti, che non esula dall’amicizia. Ma Mussolini
era stato anche socialista, anzi lo era sta- to davvero e « fino in fondo
». Che fosse anche per que- sto che i futuristi non potevano essere
completamente fascisti? O non si potevano identificare
completamente nel regime? Almeno i futuristi autentici, quelli più «
idea- listi ». Il futurismo era stato sempre e comunque
antisocia- lista, in modo integrale, totale come si è visto. E lo
era stato dall’inizio antisocialista, per la sua posizione cultu-
rale, per il suo intendimento antimilitaristico ed antiegua- litario, per
il suo slancio antipassatista di svecchiamento. Lo schiaffo ed il
pugno, la velocità e l’aggressione, la lotta e la vittoria erano tutti
temi o motivi antisocia 44 listi. Il
fascismo, nonostante tutto, era meno antisocia- lista. In primo luogo per
le origini del suo capo, per la sua formazione-estrazione, per i suoi
intendimenti di visuale che non si erano spenti del tutto, ma si
erano solo attenuati e modificati: e si erano travasati, anche,
nella novità del futurismo. Comunque, e malgrado questo, il
fascismo rimase e resta agli atti della storia un «movimento di massa
», una « realtà sociale », un fenomeno popolare, un sistema del
numero in scala comunitaria e nazionale: questo è acquisito, ed è
incontestabile. E non può essere confutato dagli storici seri. Mussolini
lo volle e lo promosse que. sto « popolarismo » e, se vogliamo anche,
riuscì lenta. mente e gradatamente ad «imporlo ». Ma non volle mai
l'uguaglianza o il livellamento, e cercò sempre di favo. rire la
distinzione dell’individualismo. Lo stimolo stesso alla competizione nel
campo dell’arte e l’amicizia con l’amico-nemico Marinetti ne sono
garanti. L’amicizia fra i due personaggi non fu esclusivamente un fatto
episo- dico o della prima ora; fu un fatto profondo e vitale, forse
inalienabile ed « assoluto ». E durò, a controprova del vero, fino alla
morte. Quando Marinetti, reduce dalla guerra di Russia per
cui si era arruolato volontario (malgrado i suoi 64 anni), aderiva alla
Repubblica Sociale Italiana dopo i tragici fatti dell’armistizio,
dimostrava sino all'ultimo fede ad un’ami- cizia e ad un'idea, comunque e
nonostante tutto. Mari- netti era partito per la Russia all’insegna della
coerenza, non potendo contraddire il suo messaggio della guerra «
sola igiene del mondo ». Messaggio che anche il « duce » aveva sentito,
forse tragicamente e forse fuori tempo. Ma lo aveva comunque sentito, e
l’amicizia con Marinetti e la sua nomina ad Accademico d'Italia lo
dimostra. Quan- do avrebbe benissimo potuto « bruciarlo ». E aveva
an- che sentito che il nuovo secolo richiedeva un cambiamen- to,
che si doveva in qualche modo maturare. Volle promuoverlo e
accelerarlo (da « futurista »?), in- tervenite e spingere l'avanzata fino
all'assurdo. Ne rimase coinvolto e definitivamente « inghiottito ».
Marinetti si era salvato, e con se stesso aveva salvato la poesia.
La guerra (leggi: politica) non poteva averla distrutta. In età
avanzata era rientrato a vivere brevemente, a lot- tare fino all’ultimo
per consegnare a Venezia un messag- gio, quello vitale e ineliminabile «
verso il futuro ». I suoi discepoli lo accolsero come un testamento e qualcuno
lo trasmette ancora per testimonianza. Nonostante la trasmu-
tazione dei tempi e le difficoltà del presente. Lo docu- menta ancora per
la verità storica e per la risonanza del- l'oggi. E, forse, per un nuovo
futuro di domani. 12. Sindacalismo futurista II
fascismo aveva creato la « Carta del Lavoro », che ricalcava a sua volta
quella ptima espressione originale di emissione statutaria d’impronta
sociale, che era stata la dannunziana « Carta del Carnaro ». Ma già prima
i futuristi avevano inteso una «loro » sindacalizzazione in senso artistico,
ed avevano ancora una volta concepito un manifesto. Si tratta del
manifesto al governo fascista del 1° maggio 1923 intitolato I diritti
ertistici propugnati dat futuristi italiani. I diritti
rimasero in gran parte sulla carta, ma l’in- tenzione era evidente:
quella di creare una specie di « car- ta sindacale » per la costituzione
dei « sindacati artistici futuristi », atti alla difesa ed all'assistenza
degli artisti eventualmente bisognosi. Oggi quel poco che offre il
sin- dacalismo dell’arte è dovuto per lo più al sindacalismo
futurista e, in parte, a quello fascista. Ma l'idea del mu- tuo soccorso
e della solidarietà del lavoro era già pre- sente nella mentalità
futurista, orientata sempre verso giustizia (in questo caso, giustizia
dell’arte). Il proleta- riato delle rappresentanze artistiche è fatto ben
noto, e non da oggi: non ne furono esenti i futuristi, che anche in
questo senso furono rivoluzionari veri e propri, e cercatono comunque il
rinnovamento. E vollero un’istituzio- ne che li garantisse dalla loro
precarietà, dalle loro dif- ficoltà e dalla loro miseria. La
«Banca di Credito» per artisti fu iniziativa di Marinetti, in seguito
approvata e patrocinata dal « duce ». Che così rispose per l’occasione
all'amico futurista: « Mio caro Marinetti, approvo cordialmente la tua
iniziativa per la costituzione di una Banca di Credito specialmente
per gli Artisti. Credo che saprai sormontare gli eventuali osta-
coli dei soliti misoneisti. Ad ogni modo questa lettera può servirti di
viatico. Ciao, con amicizia. Mussolini ». Si trattava di una vera €
propria forma di « assicu- razione del denaro » che doveva favorire gli
artisti, o sod- disfare le loro necessità. Ma non solo Îa costituzione
della Banca di Credito chiedeva il manifesto del ’23, firmato da
Martinetti « per la direzione del movimento-futurista e per tutti i
gruppi futuristi italiani ». Si volevano anche realizzare: 1) Difesa dei
giovani artisti italiani novatori in tutte le manifestazioni artistiche
promosse dallo Stato, dai Comuni e private... 2) Istituti di credito
artistico ad esclusivo beneficio degli artisti creatori italiani [dove
si propone l’apertura d’istituti di credito per la sovvenzio- ne di
artisti, manifestazioni artistiche ed Istituti d'arte. Tali istituti si
manterrebbero con la buona volontà degli aderenti, se privati, o con
imposte sui redditi di guerra, pet esempio, se statali. Le opere d'arte
depositate co- stituirebbero valorizzazione fruttifera per l’artista
medesi- mo, ecc., n.d.r.]... 8) Agevolazioni agli artisti [tramite
il riconoscimento legale dei diritti d’autore, la riduzione del 75% della
tariffa per i viaggi degli artisti e il tra- sporto delle loto opere,
l'abolizione delle tasse doganali nell’importazione ed esportazione delle
opere d’atte, il catico sull’assicuratore delle spese per lettere di
cambio o assicurazioni delle opere d’arte, ecc..., n.d.r.]. Come si
vede i futuristi guardavano sì al futuro, ma stavano ben calati nel
presente e cercavano di opetare e di agire di; presente pet migliorare e
per rendete più giusto il uturo. Col « ritorno all’ordine », come si
definisce dagli sto- rici l'affermazione del fascismo e la sua lenta
istituziona- lizzazione in regime, si parla anche di modifica del
futu- rismo 0 di suo adeguamento ad una nuova realtà siste- matica
e organizzativa, conseguita al periodo rivoluziona- rio; e si chiacchiera
ancora di «secondo futurismo ». Anche se il futurismo, primo o secondo
che fosse, non ha mai avuto a che fare con l'istituzionalizzazione
del l'arte nell’« ordine fascista ». Dice il critico Enrico Cri-
spolti in un suo saggio, e lo asserisce in modo catego- rico e
definitivo: « In questo senso è politicamente inam- missibile e
culturalmente scorretta una liquidazione del Secondo Futurismo in quanto
collusivo out court con il fascismo »’. Ma come si atriva a
questa seconda definizione del movimento? E poi eventualmente alla sua «
demonizzazio- ne » 0 « fascistizzazione » in senso politico?
Avevamo già visto nel ’24 Gerardo Dottori « prova- re» le sue prime
aeropitture. Nel frattempo i futuristi continuano a scambiarsi esperienze
ed a lavorare intensa- mente. È ad esporre spesso e volentieri, anzi
velocemen- te e freneticamente, « alla futurista ». Nel 1926
vengono invitati diversi futuristi italiani alla International
Exhibi- tion of Modern Art di New York. Nello stesso anno alla IX
Biennale d'Arte di Reggio Calabria espongono Depero, Tato, Benedetto,
Rizzo, Fillia e Dottori. A_Mi- lano intanto al Palazzo della Permanente
si allestisce la seconda mostra, che abbiamo già visto, del
Novecento, ormai in auge e prossimo ad assurgere ai fasti della
glo. ria del potere. C'è anche la dichiarazione ufficiale del neo-
costituito « Gruppo 7» di architettura, composto da Ter- ragni, Libera,
Frette, Figini, Pollini, Rava e Larco. Nel 1928 i futuristi
partecipano finalmente alla XVI Biennale di Venezia. A Torino,
all'Esposizione Nazionale, ? Enrico Crispolti,
Appunti riguardanti i rapporti fra futurismo e fascismo, in Arte e
Fascismo in Italia e Gertania, Feltrinelli, Mi- lano 1974, pag.
54. si allestisce un padiglione di architettura futurista, con opere
di Sant'Elia, Sartoris, Balla, Fillia, Prampolini e Chiattone.
Nel 1929, 33 futuristi espongono ancora alla « Pesa: ro » di Milano
(Balla, Farfa, Benedetto, Lepore, Dottori, Marasco, Tato e Prampolini).
Azari pubblica il suo Primo dizionario aereo; Balla, Fillia, Depero,
Marinetti, Tato, Somenzi, Benedetto, Rosso, Prampolini e Dottori
lancia- no il famoso Manifesto dell’Aeropittura. Terragni termi. na
2 Como la costruzione di Novocomum, nuovo edificio residenziale
periferico. Marinetti è ‘accolto il 18 matzo nell'Accademia d’Italia,
insieme a Fermi e Pirandello, su istanza personale di Mussolini.
Esce per le Edizioni di Augustea, Roma-Milano, il volume Marinetti
e il Futurismo, quarta ed ultima espres- sione di letteratura politica
del capo futurista. L’opera ricalea in termini ancor più encomiastici e
«di suppor- to» il già « conciliante » Futuriszzo e fascismo
(1924). Il volume esce ancora dedicato « Al grande e caro Benito
Mussolini », definito questa volta già nella prima pagina « temperamento
esuberante, strapotente, veloce. Non è un ideologo. Se fosse un ideologo,
sarebbe incatenato dalle idee che sono spesso lente, e dai libri che
sono sempre morti. Egli è invece libero, scatenatissimo. Fu
socialista e internazionalista, ma soltanto in teoria. Rivolu- zionario
sì, ma pacifista mai ». Il che equivale a dire « futurista ».
Del socialismo di Mussolini abbiamo già parlato, e della sua
portata teorica, a questo punto effettivamente e « praticamente »
confermata. Del futurismo « fascista » di Marinetti si sono scritti fiumi
d’inchiostro e sproloqui di parole. La dimostrazione più lampante della
sua parte- cipazione estetna al fascismo e della sua continua
difesa del futurismo e delle avanguardie è data dal rifiuto di
onorari e prebende: unica « accettazione » per contto, quella
dell'Accademia d’Italia, che gli servì poi per di- fendere il fututismo e
per «lanciarlo » meglio in Italia ed all’estero. Nel 1930
Terragni realizza un monumento a Como su un disegno di Sant'Elia (che era
stato totalmente rie- laborato da Prampolini) in occasione delle «
Onoranze Nazionali all'architetto futurista Sant'Elia », che viene
commentato anche alla « Pesaro » di Milano. Marinetti pubblica Futurismo
e Novecentismo. Molti futuristi par- tecipano alla IV Mostra delle Arti
Decorative di Monza ed alla XVII Biennale di Venezia. Nello stesso anno
Ma. rinetti pubblica a Torino sulla Gazzetta del Popolo i) Ma-
nifesto dell’Aeropoesia, che fa eco a quello dell'Aeropit- tura del *29.
E’ il « momento» dello sviluppo aereo e dell’aeronautica: è giusto che il
futurismo si muova nella direzione del progresso e senta, ritragga e
proietti la nuo- va dimensione aerea dello spazio verso il futuro.
Nel 1931 esce a Roma il nuovo quotidiano L’'Impe- to. Nel 1932 la
Galleria « Pesaro » allestisce una mostra vera e proptia, ed esclusiva,
di « aeropittura ». Fortunato Depero ottiene che gli venga concessa una
sala « perso- nale » alla XVII Biennale veneziana. Prampolini erige
un plastico a ricordo di Marconi a Roma per la Mostra della
Rivoluzione Fascista. La partecipazione futurista è segno della nuova
collaborazione politica. Ciò non toglie che le realizzazioni esprimano
intenti d'avanguardia. L’Istitu- io Editoriale Italiano pubblica per la
prima volta i Ma- nifesti del Futurismo, in quattro volumi.
Fillia fa uscire il periodico Le Città Nuova e Sartoris il volume sugli
Elementi dell’Architettura funzionale; Terragni comincia la costruzione
della Casa del Fascio di Como. Mino Somenzi fonda il nuovo periodico
Futurismo, definito «settimanale dell’artecrazia italiana ».
Cambierà poi titolo in Atfecrazia. Nel 1933 Hitler sale al
potere e sconfessa l’arte mo- derna (l'espressionismo, nella
fattispecie). Vasari organiz- za con Marinetti una mostra futurista a
Berlino nel ten- tativo di promuovere, e di far recepire le avanguardie
al nuovo regime. Nel settembre dello stesso anno il Congres- so
nazista di Norimberga condannerà « al rogo » l’« arte degenerata ». Esce
la rivista Diamo futurista, diretta da Depero; il periodico di
architettura Casebella è invece di- retto da Pagano, mentre Bardi e
Bontempelli pubblicano Quadrante. Prampolini progetta una stazione per
aero- porto civile al padiglione futurista della V Triennale di
Milano, mentre al Castello Sforzesco si organizzano le onoranze nazionali
a Boccioni, con la presenza di Paul Klee, Piet Mondrian, Pablo Picasso,
Vassily Kandinsky ed Ezra Pound. Nel 1934 Depero lancia un
nuovo manifesto dell’Aero- plastica, sempre sulla falsariga di quello
dell’Aeropittu- ra. Fillia e Prampolini pubblicano a Torino la nuova
ri- vista Stile futurista, dalle cui colonne Prampolini attacca
Hitler per le posizioni naziste sull’arte espresse a Norim- berga. I
futuristi partecipano ancora alla XIX Biennale di Venezia. Ad Amburgo
Ruggero Vasari e Marinetti di- fendono l'avanguardia in occasione della
mostra « Aero- pittura futurista italiana », organizzata appositamente
in polemica alle censure naziste. A Lipsia ancora Vasari pub- blica
Aeropittura, arte moderna e reazione, che dimostra la voce della nuova
avanguatdia italiama improntata ai progressi aeronautici ed in polemica
contro i soliti passa- tisti « censoti ». Marinetti nel ’35
parte volontario per la guerra di Etiopia. A Parigi viene organizzata una
mostra futurista. A Roma i futuristi partecipano alla II Quadriennale.
Ma- rinetti pubblica l’Aeropoema del Golfo della Spezia, che
ispirerà poi ancora molti aeropittori. Nel 1936 Prampalini realizza un salone
da riunioni per municipio alla VI Triennale di Milano. I futuristi
partecipano alla XX Biennale di Venezia. Muore Fillia esponente del «
primo futurismo ». Mussolini proclama l’Impero. Nel giugno
1937 la mostra di Monaco attacca e de- nuncia l’« arte degenerata » con
esemplificazioni e « di- mostrazioni ». Viene messa in luce per contro, o
in risal- to, l'arte « sana » nazista. Cominciano le polemiche e le
divisioni di fronti. Il fascismo ufficiale e « d'ordine » at- tacca, e
nuove violente polemiche scuotono l'avanguardia. Il Popolo d'Italia e IL
Perseo, diretto da A.F. Della Porta, muovono guerra al futurismo.
Quest'ultima rivista aveva già polemizzato, insieme a Il regime fascista
di Farinacci, con l’architettura razionalista di Bardi e Terragni: «
Noi siamo dell’opinione », si legge su Il Perseo del 15 giugno 1937,
« che il Fascismo ha tutto da perdere da un’allean- za col Futurismo e
sia pure da una semplice connivenza ». Risponde il periodico Artecrazia
di Somenzi che contrattac- ca in prima persona a sostenere l'avanguardia
e il futu- rismo. Difendo il Futurismo è la raccolta dei testi di
So- menzi pubblicati sulla rivista. Editi nel '37, sono l’opera più
coraggiosa e significativa della polemica per la lotta
dell’avanguardia. 14. Futurismo di destra e futurismo di
sinistra L’avanguardia, del resto, è sempre eterogenea e
sfac- cettata. Ecco perché si parla di « destra » e di « sinistra »
all'interno del futurismo nella fase della « maturità » (il cosiddetto «
secondo futurismo »). Destra e sinistra sono termini abusati e «
inflazionati », buoni per tutto. Se ne fa spesso uso eccessivo ed
improprio, semplicistico e gra- tuito. D'altra parte, poiché avviene
ancora e soprattutto oggi, non si vede perché non dovesse avvenire
allora, quando anche si parlava, al tempo, di fascismo di « de-
stra » e di fascismo di « sinistra ». Il « centro », almeno nelle
avanguardie, non ha ten- denze, o ne ha molto pache e solo per qualche
momento. Il « centro» ha poche tensioni, pochi impulsi vitali, di
rinnovamento. Il « centro », quindi, risulterebbe amorfo, inutile, privo
di idee 0 spirito di catatterizzazione. L’avan- guardia allora sta a «
destra » 0 a « sinistra »: non è mai al « centro », o almeno è difficile
che lo sia. Il futurismo fu forse un’avanguardia di « destra » se intendiamo
per « destra » una certa qual spinta ideale d'impronta bergso-
niana o nietzschiana: poteva però essere anche di « sini- stra » per le
sue istanze sociali. O poteva essere al di là della « destra » e della
«sinistra », per ricalcare una espressione del pensatore tedesco.
Sta di fatto che il futurismo non fu mai di « centro ». Ma se si
vuole dar credito a quello che comunemente si intende otmai per « destra
», si deve anche accogliere un 52 futurismo di «
destra », o rivolto verso « destra »: se è vero che a «destra » sta la
conservazione, lo spirito borghese, il richiamo all’ordine ecc. ecc. E se
è vero per contro che a « sinistra » sta la spontaneità o lo
spontanei- smo, la sincerità, la schiettezza, l'onestà e quindi
anche la miseria e la « rivoluzione »: ecco, allora, esiste anche
il futurismo di « sinistra ». Com'è possibile? La polemica, anche
se non sembra vero, fu proprio di quegli anni. Comincia Bruno Corra con
un « fondo » di prima pagina su Futurismo, diretto dal Somenzi, n.
27 del 12 marzo del 1932, anno I e X dell’« Era Fascista ». Il
titolo è già sintomatico: No: futuristi di destra. Anche se Corra aveva
usato il termine « destra » con le attenua- zioni del caso, affermava che
«l'essenza del Futurismo è e non può non essere rivoluzionaria ». E
ancora, a spe- cificare meglio il concetto: « ... Bisogna dire che nel
no- stro movimento i termini di sinistra e destra non si op-
pongono, perdono cioè il loto significato convenzionale. La mentalità
futurista supera il contrasto fra il sovvetti- mento e la conservazione,
in quanto si libera di continuo in uno slancio creativo », tanto per la
precisione dei ter- mini e la puntualizzazione del linguaggio. E siccome
il linguaggio ci investe di una « sua » moralità, ecco che è bene
tenerne conto quando ancora il Corra così sottoli nea: « Mi pare che qui
si tratti, prima di tutto, di una questione di moralità. Dare al
Fututismo quel che al Fu- tutismo appartiene: e non truccare il proprio
ingegno con un'etichetta di convenienza. Chi si dichiara
avanguardi- sta ma non futurista, sputa nel piatto dove ha man-
giato ». E fin qui è tutto chiaro e conseguenziale. Ma ve- diamo come
ancora il Corra continua: « Poi, lo stabilirci questo principio; che il
privilegio di poter restare nella sfera magnetica del Futurismo pure
affermando, nella pro- pria opera un temperamento realizzatore di destra,
debba accordarsi soltanto a coloro che han dimostrato di sapere
essere — integralmente — futuristi. E reclamerei il diritto di sedermi a
destra, per mio conto, in nome della mia effettiva collaborazione al
Futurismo più rivoluzionario... ». Insomma, essere stati di « sinistra »
per poter essere poi di « destra », o aver fatto i rivoluzionari in
gioventù, per poter pai sedere tranquillamente sugli « scanni » del
concreto o nella comodità del reale (di quando, cioè, x
si è « arrivati »). Può darsi sia vero, pur se non proprio
giusto 0 cor- retto il ragionamento, ma concreto sì ed anche, che
ci piaccia o meno, realistico. La polemica inizia ed. è un
susseguirsi di botte e risposte. Fra tutte vediamo come « replica » Paolo
Buzzi su un altro «fondo» di prima pagina dello stesso Futuriswo n. 30,
anno II, del 2 aprile 1933. Il titolo è anche questa volta
emblematico, Estrema sinistra, puntualizzato poi meglio nell’« occhiello
»: Non c'è che un futurismo: quello di estrema sinistra. Dove si
sancisce la necessità dell'avanguardia a « sinistra », e la «sinistra »
del futurismo, l’unica possibile. « Questo, e non altro, è il vero
futurismo. Perché dovrei sedermi a destra, proprio io? Mi sembrerebbe di
tradire la causa di Aeroplani, di Ellisse e la Spirale, di Cavalcata
delle verti. gini... ». E ancora: « Questo è futurismo: e di ultra
estre- ma sinistra. Le mie autonomie sintetiche di anime e di
sensi, le mie aeropitture di tipi e di paesaggi, i miei co- smopolitismi
spaziali e i miei intimismi votticosi, stanno per una intransigenza
etico-estetica che costituisce, or- mai, la gioia (ed, un pochino, anche
la gloria) della mia lunga carriera di vomo che ha sempre fatto dell'Arte
come il sacerdote celebra messa. Aviatore sempre, adunque: fan- te
o stradino, non mai ». E conclude poi, con patole un po’ altisonanti e
troppo, forse, di effetto: «I giovani, quelli veramente degni di questo
nome primaverile, sanno che al di fuori e al di sopra d'ogni inevitabile
chiasso letterario, la parola “futurismo” risponde alla sola unica
vera “idea forza” che oggi esista nella sfera ideale del mondo: e che è
in grazia di essa, unicamente di essa, se oggi la Poesia della miracolosa
Italia fascista vive e vi- vrà ». Dove si dimostta ancota una volta, come
se non ba- stasse, il collegamento tra futurismo e fascismo, almeno
nella loro spinta « spontaneistica » e rivoluzionaria. Dobbiamo comunque
tenere conto del tempo della pubblicazione di questi articoli, nel °32 e
'33, in pieno ed affermato regime. Ecco, quindi, anche, il senso di
una « destra » e di una «sinistra », di un futurismo ancora giovane
ed esuberante, e di un altro futurismo per contro già assiso sugli allori
della gloria o sul comodo giaciglio della meta raggiunta e della calma
del riposo. Quando cioè il fascismo, movimento politico rivoluzionario,
eta di- ventato « regime », ed aveva, per così dire, assunto le sue
caratteristiche sembianze (almeno fino a un certo punto). Perché il
futurismo, così come era sotto, in fondo si era voluto mantenere. AI di
là dei tentativi di conglobamento o di «cattura » della sua entità
esercitati dal regime o da singole personalità fasciste, alcune delle
quali, magari, erano state futuriste o vicine al futurismo. Tuttavia
era e restava, il futurismo, in fondo, quello di sempre: solo ed
esclusivamente un movimento d'avanguardia. 15. Futurismo ed
ebraismo « Innumerevoli differenze separano il popolo russo
dal popolo italiano, oltre a quella tipica che distingue un po-
polo vinto e un popolo vincitore. I loro bisogni sono di- vetsi e
opposti. Un popolo vinto sente morire in sé il suo patriottismo, si
rovescia rivoluzionariamente e plagia la rivoluzione del popolo vicino.
Un popolo vincitore co- me il nostro vuol fare la sua rivoluzione, come
un aera- nauta getta la zavorra per salire più in alto... Non
esiste in Italia antisemitismo. Non abbiamo dunque ebrei da re-
dimere, valutare o seguire », sosteneva Marinetti nel 1920: e lo diceva
nella sua opera già esaminata A! di là del Co- munismo. Lo riportiamo non
tanto per rilevare le diffe renze fra rivoluzione futurista e rivoluzione
bolscevica 0 spirito comunista, quanto per far rilevare quale era
la posizione di Marinetti nei confronti degli ebrei già nel 1920.
Gli ebrei da « redimere, valutare o seguire » sono evidenti: Marx ed
Engels. Il problema invece si affaccia, come tutti sappiamo, sul volgere
del '38 e all'alba del °39. Il Manifesto del Razzismo italiano, quello
degli scien- ziati del 14 luglio ’38, e la Carta della Razza del 6-7
ottabre dello stesso anno, cui fanno seguito le leggi razziali del
novembre sulla falsariga dell’antisemitismo tedesco, danno buon gioco
alla cultura dell’« ordine », quella più direttamente sostenitrice o
affiancatrice del regime. Secondo Crispolti «il tentativo della
cultura legata alla destra reazionaria fascista di profittare della
campa- gna antisemita per promuovere un'edizione italiana della
operazione nazista dell’“arte degenerata” è un aspetto no- tevole
dell’azione pubblicistica che precedette e accompa- gnò quei
provvedimenti » ®. L'azione pubblicistica era con- dotta da Telesio
Interlandi in prima persona, che attacca- va spesso e volentieri
Marinetti, il futurismo e le avan- guardie attraverso il suo periodico:
dal Quadrivio, setti manale romano ad impronta razzista, al quotidiano
roma- no Il Tevere, a La difesa della razza. Oltre a Interlandi si
distinguevano Giovanni Preziosi con il mensile La wite italiana, e
Roberto Farinacci con Il regimze fascista, quoti- diano di Cremona.
« L'arte moderna è un tumore che deve essere tagliato non che si
debba esibire come una gloria nazionale sol perché piace a Marinetti »,
aveva affermato I/ Tevere del 24-25 novembre 1938, pubblicando
un’antologia di esempi d’« arte degenerata » italiana. Quadrivio aveva
a sua volta proposto un referendum contro l'arte moderna
considerata in blocco « bolscevizzante e giudaica », ma senza alcun
successo. Marinetti rispondeva con una manifestazione
indetta il 3 dicembre 1938 da lui e Somenzi al Teatro delle Atti di
Roma. E Somenzi stesso lo accompagnava con un « fon- do » polemico su
Arfecrazia, n. 117 del 3 dicembre, dal titolo Razzismo. Ad esso facevano
seguito sul n. 118 del- l'11 gennaio 1939 due articoli (Arte e... razzia,
e Italianità dell’arte moderna), ancora in posizione di attacco,
aspro e violento. Quest'ultimo, firmato « Artecrazia » pottò
a determinare la chiusura stessa del giornale. Non è escluso
* Enrico Crispolti, Appunti riguardanti 1 rapporti fra
futurismo e fascismo, cit., pag. 58. 56 che lo
avesse scritto proprio lo stesso Marinetti (con Somen- zi). Il pretesto
di voler colpire con l’antigiudaismo l’arte moderna era messo all'indice
dell'accusa. Si dimostra così ancora una volta lo spirito d'avanguardia
con cui il futu- rismo e i futuristi operavano, sia pur sotto le bandiere
del regime, ma in fondo in opposizione a una cultura d’or- dine e
di conservazione, priva di spunti nuovi e originali, o addirittura chiusa
ai contatti e alle avanguardie europei sotto il pretesto
dell'antigiudaismo, che non poteva certo essere aperto a nuove
esperienze. Nel 1940 entta in guerra l’Italia. Marinetti parla «
Per l’italianità dell’arte » e tiene un discorso al Teatro delle
Arti a Roma sulla « bellezza aeropoetica della guerra mec- canizzata ».
Intervengono Radice e Terragni a difendere l’arte moderna. Declatmano
Marinetti, Farfa, Scrivo, Mo- nachesi e Berardi. La rivista Autori e
Scrittori pubblica il manifesto Nuova estetica della guerra. A Genova
Mari. netti parla su «La poesia e la guerra » nel Salone dei
Professionisti e degli Artisti, dove si declamano poesie di Mazzotti e
Balestreri. Nel 1941 Renato Di Bosso lancia il nuovo
Manifesto dell’Aerosilografia. Nel 1942 Marinetti pubblica
Carto eroi e macchine della guerra mussoliniana. Poi parte vo-
lontario a raggiungere le truppe italiane in Russia. Rien- trerà nel ’43
malato, e già intaccato nella salute. Mussolini cade il 25 luglio e
Marinetti si trasferisce a Venezia, dopo l'8 settembre. Il fascismo è
finito, ma il futurismo an- cora continua. 16. Il futurismo
tra ieri e oggi Dopo la morte di Terragni a Como (1943) per
ma- lattia contratta sul fronte russo, Marinetti aderisce nel 44
alla neo-costituita Repubblica Sociale Italiana. A_Ve- nezia riceverà gli
ultimi futuristi, rimastigli fedeli nono- stante il « declino »: Crali
(ancora vivente) e Andreoni (recentemente scomparso). A loro vorrà
consegnare il fu- turismo perché non muoia con lui. Si trasferisce poi
a Cadenabbia sul lago di Como e muore a Bellagio nella notte fra il
2 e il 3 di dicembre, per crisi cardiaca (i fu- nerali di Stato
porteranno le spoglie a Milano, al Cimitero Monumentale). Postuma a lui e
alla fine del fascismo (repubblicano) si pubblicherà la sua ultima opera,
che così inizia: « Salite in autocarro aeropoeti... » Si tratta del
Quarto d'ora di poesia della X Mas, in cui l’invoca- zione
all'avanguardia alita uno strano ed inevitabile sen- so di morte,
violento ed inesorabile. Ma l'avanguardia è, pare, ineliminabile,
tant'è che il futurismo continua come espressione artistica almeno,
an- che se ormai non più politica. I suoi epigoni lo sosten- gono
ancora, «con le parole e con le opere». Crali Primo Conti a Milano e a
Firenze, Sartoris a Losanna, Di Bosso ed Anselmi a Verona, Enzo Benedetto
a Roma portano ancora avanti il suo programma d'avanguardia. Con
parole e con scritti, con opere e con progetti, col messag- gio dell’arte
sempre e comunque. I seguaci di Marinetti si rifanno a lui e sostengono
con vivacità e con brio la vitalità di una prospettiva che si vuole
sempre rinnovare. Questo è ancora, malgrado tutto, il valore
attuale del futurismo. Quello di un'avanguardia italiana aperta
alle avanguardie europee, ma avanguardia comunque e valo-
rizzatrice in ogni caso dell'arte. Che dev'essere libera e moderna, nuova
ed attuale, viva e presente ai suoi tempi. Per questo deve ancora
schiacciare le pastoie dei vecchiu- mi « passatisti », deve smuovere il
conservativo e assa- lire i fantasmi di prolungamento di polverosi e
sclerotici retaggi. Deve insomma comunque essere avanguardia. Il
messaggio futurista, in questo senso, è ancora attuale. Ce lo dicono
Crali e Benedetto, fra gli altri, con le loto testimonianze. Che ci
aiutano a tivedere la « dimensio- ne » del futurismo: una dimensione «
presente » in tanta odierna penuria di originalità nel moderno, presente
al- meno come forza dinamica nella prospettiva di migliori, più
aperti, e più geniali futuri. ALBERTO SCHIAVO 58
SOFFICI, MARINETTI, BOCCIONI, RUSSOLO SANT'ELIA, SIRONI,
PIATTI FUTURISMO E « GUERRA SOLA IGIENE DEL MONDO. Ben
presto si manifesta l'interesse dei futuristi per la politica. Nel 1911
Marinetti pubblica giò un mani festo « politica », che sarà la sua prima
espressione di intervento nelle cose pubbliche. «Tyripoli Italiana
» vuol dire presenza dell’Italia e primato dell’Italia; vuol dire
guerra ed espansione, allargamento del vita- lismo italiano, e vittoria.
Il « panitalianismo » si espri- me e si dichiara apertamente, per la
prima volta. L'avanguardia politica deve accompagnare
l'avanguar- dia artistica. E il primato italiano in arte st deve
ma- nifestare anche in politica, nella forza dell'espansione del
genio (al tempo, di arbizione coloniale). Poco dopo la Libia, è la
volta dell'Austria. L’amo- re della guerra non può che portare a voler
V'inter- vento. Ci sembra significativa la penna di Soffici su
Lacerba del ‘14, dove si osa dire la verità e mettere in luce la finzione
del moderatismo neutralista (cat- tolico o socialista che sia).
Il manifesto della fine del 1915, dedicato all'« or- goglio
italiano », è già un manifesto di guerra. Per questo lo riportiamo
interamente, a dimostrazione del- la fiducia e dell’ottimismo degli
artisti combattenti, la loro convinzione della forza attiva e dello
funzione battagliera dell’arte PER LA GUERRA
Valvola Essere italiano (mi piace ripeter qui che adoro il
popolo italiano) non è in generale gran fatto entusia- smante, in questa
nostra epoca. Ìn questi ultimissimi tem- pi, confesserò che per conto mio
mi vergogno un poco di portar questo nome. E’ un sentimento che si è
andato sviluppando leggendo i giornali, e posso anche ammettere che
una tale causa non meriterebbe di produrre un tale ef- fetto; ma i
giornali son tutta la nostra vita ormai e pur- troppo. E. dai giornali
italiani si alza e si propaga un tal lezzo d'abbiezione e d’imbecillità
che chi ha un po' di cuore e di spirito non può fare a meno di sentirsene
sof. focato. E' una gara in cui corrispondenti, redattori ordina-
nati e straordinari, politicanti e governo fanno del loro meglio per
sorpassarsi a vicenda. Non che siano espliciti nei loro articoli e nei
loro comunicati, ma la bassezza tra spare e offende. Sono reticenze
abbiette, raccomandazioni infami, voltafaccia vergognosi, silenzi più
vergognosi anco: ra. Si sente che il calcolo idiota comanda e regola
tutti questi spiriti subalterni. La guerra? Le mani in mano? Questo
enimma terribile non è affrontato a viso aperto, ma una battaglia vinta o
persa lontano detta il tono ed il catattere (anche tipografico) della
notizia, del commento o della nota ufficiosa. Dà il là all’elucubrazione
insulsa del machiavello rimbastardito. La stampa italiana è opgi
come oggi l’indizio della più ripugnante psicologia e mentalità che
possa avere una nazione. Davanti al mondo che com- Tralasciamo i
paragrafi: Toccami il naso, Grandezzate, e Subli- mità, che ci sembrano
poco significativi dal punto di vista politico, per riprendere con
Socialismo, molta più denso e pregnante. 61 batte e
soffre, accanto a una civiltà che difende le sue — le nostre — ricchezze
dal sacrilegio di un'orda senza stotia, noi siamo il leguleio diseredato
di viscere, solle- cito della sua trippa mediocre che occhieggia le
fortune dei popoli, e risponde di sbieco o tace aspettando dietro
lo schermo della sua neutralità. Non hanno il coraggio questi figuri di
dirla una buona volta ta verità. Ditelo che siete i più ignobili
rappresentanti di un paese che è mise- rabile perché non vi calpesta come
cimici. Ditelo che vi mancano il cuore e i testicoli. Ditelo che avete
paura. O confessate almeno che dietro la vostta prudenza c'è la
vostra impotenza, la verità che ci buttano in faccia i nostri alleati
quando fra una batosta e l'altra voglion levarsi il gusto di pigliarci
per il bavero. Che cioè l’Italia non ha quattrini, non ha armi, non ha
munizioni e che i suci magazzini son vuoti come la badia di
Spazzavento. E ci sono infine i socialisti. Io non ho un'esagerata
antipatia pet i socialisti. Trovo che la loro cravatta rossa, il loro sol
dell’avvenir, i loro discorsi in piazza, e gene- ralmente tutto ciò che
li caratterizza, così a occhio e croce, sono un tantino ridicoli; ma le
case popolari, l'au- mento delle mercedi operaie e tutto ciò che il
proleta- riato deve loro di miglioramenti per la vita di tutti i
giorni sono cose ottime e sante. Ciò non toglie che una cosa mi stupisce
straordinariamente ogni volta l'intravedo e mi stupirà in eterno: la loro
mentalità. Si rivela spes- sissimo in questi giorni, e sempre a proposito
della neutra- lità italiana. I socialisti l'’ammettono, non solo, ma la
vo- gliono perpetua. « Io sono e resto un fautore ogni giorno più
convinto della neutralità per la pace » ha dichiarato in un referendum
uno di loro. E voleva forse dire (giac- ché è difficile immaginare una
neutralità per la guerra) che lui e il suo partito sono per la pace a
ogni costo. Giacché, ed eccoci alla mentalità di codesto partito,
ogni buon socialista non vede nella guerra, qualunque essa sia,
62 se non una lotta di capitalisti e banchieri contro
capita- listi e banchieri i quali si servono del proletariato per
li- quidare le loro partite. Ammettiamo che in ogni guerra ci sia
un sostrato d'interessi; ma non c'è altro? Per i so- cialisti non c'è
altro. L'idea che i socialisti si fanno del mondo è questa: un
capitalista borghese e sfruttatore alle prese con un magro popolano
sfruttato. La cultura, le scienze, le arti, le delicatezze, l’eleganze, i
raffinamenti, le filosofie, la bellezza, i sentimenti, gli amori, le
passioni -— tutto ciò insomma che fa la vita così terribilmente
com- plessa, così colorita, così varia, multiforme, incoercibile
non è nulla per loro. Tutto è grigio, e l’universo intero una
specie di ragnatela squallida senza confini né orizzonti, eterna, in
mezzo alla quale un ragno cerca di succhiare una mosca alla quale Karl
Marx ha insegnato che non deve lasciarsi succhiare. Così,
nella guerra presente, che cosa importa se intere nazioni difendono una
civiltà che è la nostra, le libertà conquistate — le idee stesse dei
socialisti — contro i nemici che sono gli stessi nemici dei socialisti?
Per i compagni di Filippo Turati non si tratta che della solita altalena
dei capitali sulle povere spalle del popolano e bisogna aste-
nersi. E parlo espressamente degli « ufficiali » ex cattedra, giacché
agli altri, a quelli del colloquio coll’emissario tede- sco, dobbiamo
l’atto forse più nobile e generoso che si sia compiuto in Italia in
quest'ora di straordinaria bassezza. Il trionfo della merda
La cieca incoscienza dei socialisti ufficiali e l’untuosa malafede
dei cattolici alla Meda (ecco un uomo cui manca indicibilmente l’erre!)
si possono anche capire in un mo- mento come questo, chi consideri la
speciale mentalità di codesti gruppi e la messa in giuoco violenta dei
prin- cipî e degli interessi di tutti. I primi, i socialisti,
non d'altro solleciti che di vuote teoriche malamente idealistiche, non
possono vedere nella guerra se non un fatto inquietante, uno di quei
fatti che afferrando tutto l’uomo ne mettono in mato ogni energia
vitale il che è sempre a scapito certo delle ideologie uni- laterali, e
credono l’'opporvisi con tutte le loro energie una coerente difesa dell’«
idea » mentre non si tratta in fondo che di un semplice istinto di
conservazione. I se- condi, i cattolici, sanno benissimo che un nostro
interven- to nel conflitto attuale favorendo il trionfo di popoli
tut- t'altro che asserviti alla secolare imbecillaggine papale, si-
gnificherebbe un indebolimento considerevole della loro compagine, e
maschetano di prudenza pattiottica il loro desiderio di vedere ancora
l’Italia ribadir con la sua neu- tralità incondizionata i vincoli che la
fanno setva e com- plice del bigottismo e dell’inciviltà eutopea.
Contro gli uni e gli altri, se si può usar del disprezzo, non
sarebbe dunque logico indignarsi. Ma c’è una massa dei nostri
connazionali che nessuna collera, nessuna abo- minazione potrà mai
bollate con l’infamia che merita la sua straordinaria abbiezione. E' Ja
massa oscura, anemica informe degli irresponsabili, dei disamorati, degli
abulici: dei parassiti della società e della vita. Non vedendo
nulla più di là della lora piccola tranquillità presente, del loro
affare meschino, del loro affetto senza energia; rincantuc- ciati nel
loro buco momentaneo al sicuro dalla burrasca che gli sgomenta soltanto a
intravederla nelle corrispon- denze del loro mediocre giornale, essi
credono che nulla possa essere più profittevole del prolungare, sia pure
a co- sto di ogni mortificazione, questo stato d’incolumità rumi-
nativa nell'ombra e in margine alla storia. Chè se domani la
preponderanza in Europa di una razza di pachidermi violenti, chiusi a
ogni luce di vera intelligenza, conculcherà ogni espressione geniale di
vita; se i popoli cui si lega una comunanza di cultura, di ricordi e di
tradizioni, saranno mortificati e asserviti a un’etica da ingegnere
belligero e spia; se le nostre stesse fortune intellettuali, morali e
ma- teriali saranno manomesse e asservite, che cosa importa a
questi miopi sdraiati nella loro flaccidezza quietoviven- te? A costoro
importa che l’oggi sia senza strepiti e senza pericoli, che il tran tran
dell’esistenza seguiti: felici se l'Ita- lia potrà uscire dal rotto della
cuffia — e sia magari verso 64 l'abisso. Così nessuno
si affida con più sicurezza di loro alle decisioni del nostro governo. Il
govetno italiano che fino ad oggi s'è dimostrato come la quintessenza di
questa materia fiscale, perché non d -*ebbe divenirne anche la
stella fatale? L’ospizio degl lidi della Consulta è il faro naturale di
questa marea ».ercoraria che monta. Poi ché essa monta, trionfando. Ogni
giorno che passa nella passività, ogni occasione perduta, ogni ambizione
abdi- cata, ogni nuova difficoltà creata servono ottimamente al suo
incremento e alla sua propagazione. Siamo già a buon punto. Dopo aver
impedito con tutto il suo peso ri- pugnante ogni movimento, questa massa
pestifera ha già una voce per dire che muoversi ora è troppo tardi.
An- cora poche settimane e sarà forse vero, e tutti saremo sommersi
per sempre. Amici! Noi abbiamo parlato e scritto: abbiamo
propu- gnato tutto il calore delle nostre anime per oppotci alla
vigliaccheria inaudita di una bella parte dei nostri con- cittadini.
Credo che il momento di una lotta più diretta e dura stia per giungere.
Le armi della mente e del cuore stanno per esaurirsi. Bisognerà ricorrere
alle altre, se non vogliamo che l’Italia piombi al livello della più
vergognosa fra le nazioni. Un paese che abbia per scrittori dei
Pao- lieri e la Nazione come giornale ufficiale. Arvenco
SOFFICI [da: Lacerba, n. 18, 15, settembre 1914; e n. 19, 1° ottobre
1914] L'ORGOGLIO ITALIANO Il 13 Ottobre, nella prima
perlustrazione fatta da me agli ordini del capitano Monticelli e del
sergente Visconti in terreno nemico, a 6 Km. dalle nostre trincee, fra
le alte roccie a picco, nelle boscaglie e nelle pietraie dell'A]
tissimo, dopo esserci incontrati con una pattuglia austria
65 ca che ci voltò le spalle e fuggì, constatammo con gioia
la superiorità enorme della nostra artiglieria, i cui tiri meravigliosi,
passando su di noi e sul lago, sostenevano la nostra avanzata in Val di
Ledro. Nella seconda perlustrazione fatta da me, dai miei amici
futuristi Boccioni e Sant'Elia e dal pittot Recci, esplorando e
occupando la trincea delle Tre Piante, constatammo con quale gioconda
disinvoltura dei giovani pittori e poeti italiani possano trasformarsi
in audaci, rudi, instacabili alpini. Durante l'avanzata,
l'assalto e la presa di Dosso Ca- sina, compiuta dai Volontari ciclisti
lombardi e da un battaglione di alpini, vedemmo le truppe austriache
sgo- minate dalla baldanza di pochi italiani diciassettenni e
cinquantenni, non allenati alla guerra in montagna. Dopo aver matciato
per 7 giorni in un foltissimo nebbione, con vestiti quasi estivi malgrado
la temperatura di 15 gradi sotto zero, i Volontari ciclisti
pernacchiavano allegramen- te alle migliaia di sbrapne!s prodigati loro
da 5 forti austria- ci. I nuovi raccoglitori di bossoli e di schegge
micidiali facevano finalmente dimenticare gli stupidissimi e senti-
mentali raccoglitori di edelweiss. Constatammo che degl'italiani,
già operai, impiegati o borghesi sedentarii, sapevano vincere in astuzia
qualsiasi pattuglia di Kazserjigers. Constatammo che un corpo di
300 valontati ciclisti improvvisati alpini sapeva strategi- camente
manovrare su per montagne ignote, con tale abi lità che il nemico si
credette accerchiato da migliaia d’uo- mini. Constatammo che uno studente
italiano, trasforma- to in ufficiale, può comandare tutta l'artiglieria
d'una zona e sfondare coi suoi tiri 6 o 7 forti austriaci,
scientificamen- te preparati alla difesa in 20 o 30 anni.
Constatammo come il popolo italiano, sotto la direzione geniale di
Ca- dorna, abbia saputo improvvisare in pochi mesi la prima
artiglieria dei mondo e vincere di continuo nella più spa- ventosa e
difficile guerra che sia mai stata combattuta. Singhiozzammo di gioia
all’udire dalla viva voce di 20 o 30 giornalisti esteri, quali Jean
Carrère e Serge Basset, che l'esercito capace di vincere e di avanzare sul
Carso è si- curamente il primo esercito del mondo. Dopo aver
visto il popolo italiano, « il più mobile di tutti i popoli », liberarsi
futuristicamente, con una scrol- lata di spalle, dalla lurida vecchia
camicia di forza giolit- tiana, vediamo ora nelle vie milanesi fervide di
lavoro, come il popolo italiano, che sembrava avvelenato di paci-
fismo, sa guardare con fierezza questa nobile, utile e igie- nica
profusione di sangue italiano. Tutto questo ci conferma una volta
di più che nessun popolo può uguagliare: 1. - il genio
creatore del popolo italiano; 2. - l'elasticità improvvisatrice di
cui sempre danno prova gl’italiani; 3. - la forza, l’agilità
e la resistenza fisica degl'’italiani; 4. - l'impeto, la violenza e
l’accanimento con cui gli italiani sanno combattere: la pazienza, il metodo e il calcolo
degl'italiani nel fare una guetra; 6. - il firismo e la
nobiltà morale della nazione italiana nel nutrirla di sangue o
denaro. ITALIANI! Voi dovete costruire l'Orgoglio italiano sulla
indiscutibile superiorità del popolo italiano în tutto. Questo orgoglio
fu uno dei principii essenziali dei nostri manifesti futuristi
dall’origine del nostto Movimento, cioè da 6 anni fa, quando primi e soli
(mentre l’irredentismo agonizzava e il partito Nazionalista non era
ancora nato) invocammo violentemente, nei teatri e sulle piazze, la
guer- ra come unica igiene, unica morale educatrice, unico velo- ce
motore di progresso. Eravamo allora sicuri di vincere l’Austria e
di centu- plicare il nostro valote e il nostro prestigio
vincendola. Eravamo soli convinti della prossima conflagrazione
gene- rale, che tutti giudicavano impossibile in nome di due
pseudo-fatalità: lo sciopero delle Banche e lo sciopero dei proletariati.
Eravamo convinti che coll’Inghilterra, la Fran- cia, la Russia, noi
dovevamo utilizzare le nostre inesauribili forze di razza e il nostro
genio improvvisatare, collabo- 67 rando allo
strangolamento del teutonismo, fatto di balor- daggine medioevale, di
preparazione meticolosa e d’ogni pedanteria professorale.
Apparve allora il mio Monoplan du Pape, visione pro- fetica della
nostra vittoriosa guerra contro l’Austria. Infat- ti noi soli fummo
profetici ed ispirati, perché, più giovani di tutti, più poeti, più
imprudenti, più lontani dalla poli- tica opporttunistica e quietista,
traemmo la visione del fu- turo dal nostro temperamento formidabile, e
pur consta- tando intorno a noi la vecchia mediocrità italiana,
credem- mo fermamente nell’avvenite grande dell’Italia, semplice-
mente perché noi futuristi eravamo Italiani. ITALIANI! Voi dovete
manifestare dovunque questo orgoglio italiano e imporlo in Italia e
all'estero colla pa- rola e colla violenza, come facemmo noi in Francia,
nel Belgio, in Russia, nelle nostre numerose conferenze bat-
tagliere. Merita schiaffi, pugni e fucilate nella schiena
l'italiano che non si manifesta spavaldamente orgoglioso d’essere
italiano e convinto che l'Italia è destinata a dominare il mondo col
genio creatore della sua arte e la potenza del suo esercito
impareggiabile. Merita schiaffi, pugni e fucilate nella schiena
l'italiano che manifesta in sé la più piccola traccia del vecchio
pes- simismo imbecille, denigratore e straccione che bha carat-
terizzata la vecchia Italia ormai sepolta, la vecchia Italia di
mediocristi antimilitari (tipo Giolitti), di professori pa- cifisti (tipa
Benedetto Croce, Claudio Treves, Entico Ferti, Filippo Turati), di
archeologhi, di eruditi, di poeti nostal- gici, di conservatori di musei,
di albergatori, di topi di biblioteche e di città morte, tutti
neutralisti e vigliacchi, che noi, primi e soli in Italia, abbiamo
denunciati, vilipesi come nemici della patria, e veramente frustati con
abbon- danti e continue doccie di sputi. Merita schiaffi,
calci e fucilate nella schiena l’artista o il pensatore italiano che si nasconde
sotto il suo inge- gno come fa lo struzzo sotto le sue penne di lusso e
non sa identificare il proprio cotgoglio coll’orgoglio militare
della sua razza. Merita schiaffi, calci e fucilate nella schiena l’artista o il
pensatore italiano che vernicia di scuse la sua viltà, dimenticando che
creazione artistica è sinonimo di eroismo morale e fisico. Merita
schiaffi, calci e fucila- re nella schiena l'artista o il pensatore
italiano che, fisica- mente valido, dimostrando la più assoluta assenza
di va- lore umano, si chiude nell’arte come in un sanatorio o in un
lazzaretto di colerosi e non offre la sua vita per ingi- gantire
l’Orgoglio italiano. Mentre altri futuristi fanno il loro dovere
nell’esercito regolate, noi futuristi volontari del Battaglione lombardo,
dopo essere stati semplici soldati in 6 mesi di guerra, ed aver preso
cogli alpini la posizione austriaca di Dosso Casina, aspettiamo
ansiosamente il piacere di ritornare al fuoco in altri corpi, poiché
siamo più che mai convinti che alle brevi parole devono subito seguire i
pronti, fulminei e decisivi fatti. La sensibilità e l'acume politico «
d'avanguardia » dei futuristi non potevano rimanere indifferenti di
fron- te ai loro avversari 0 alla «controparte » dell'avanguar-
dia, quella socialista. La reciprocità dell'opposizione al potere
liberalborghese, a « passatista» per dirla alla Marinetti, era motivo di
accostamento, forse, 0 per lo meno di attenzione da ambo le parti. E
sappiamo dal De Felice che molti « proletari » o esponenti dei ceti
umili osservavano con attenzione e seguivano il movi mento di Martinetti
con calore di simpatia. Marîo Carli, fra i più sensibili esponenti
certo del futurismo «d'assalto », si accorge della presenza di ele-
menti comuni nelle avanguardie, e lancia un appello da Roma futurista #
13 /uglio del ’19 nel tentativo forse di un avvicinamento. L'avvertimento
della necessità di rovesciare la classe dirigente corrotta e impreparata
of- fre una base comune all'intento di collaborazione per il
sostegno del proletariato, operaio od ex combattente che sia. La polemica
continua sulla stessa testata, nel numero del 92 novembre dello stesso
anno con un arti colo di Giuseppe Bottai dal titolo Futurismo
contro Socialismo. L'immpossibilità di collaborazione è già vista
dal Bottai con tutta la sua evidenza, ed è vista per ragioni
squisitamente ideologiche, rifacentesi gi presup- posti filosofici del
socialismo e del socialismo italiano, in particolare. Il 14 dicembre
ancora del ’19, entra nella polemica un socialista, certo Moannarese, cui
ven- gono aperte le colonne di Roma futurista @ fargli so- stenere
più o meno la stessa tesi di Bottai, anche se vista da angolazione
marxista, dogmatica e inequivoca bile. L’impossibilità della
collaborazione è data dalla ostrattezza del futurismo secondo Manmarese,
e dal suo scarso od insufficientemente risaltante contenuto
sociale, che esula dall'unico e imprescindibile metodo possibile:
quello della lotta di classe. L'ultima battuta è ancora del Bottai ed
esce la settimana dopo, sul numero del 21 dicembre ‘19 dello stesso
periodico. La puntualizza zione degli argomenti e la precisazione dei
temi e delle tesi di pensiero son lutte protese a dimostrare lo
sin- cerità filo-popolare del futurismo e la falsità democra- tica
del socialismo per cui è quasi necessario essere contro il socialismo, ed
indispensabile, se si ama il po- polo italiano, quello dei proletari
arditi con cui anche Bottai aveva combattuto nelle trincee al fronte
della prima guerra. « Noi siamo per l'elevazione del popolo, e non
per l'assolutismo demagogico di esto», sottoli neava l'autore,
concludendo a grandi caratteri « Contro il socialismo non vuol dire
contro il proletariato ». Ho esaminato seriamente l'ipotesi di una
collaborazione fra noi (futuristi, arditi, fascisti, combattenti, ecc.) e
i Partiti cosiddetti d'avanguardia: socialisti ufficiali, rifor-
misti, sindacalisti, repubblicani. A parte il fatto che, in realtà,
essi siano assai meno precursori ed audaci di quanto a parale vogliano
far cre- dere, io mi sono preoccupato esclusivamente di cercare il
terreno comune nel quale si possa, noi e loro, associa- re gli sforzi e
marciare d'intesa verso lo stesso obiettivo. Il terreno comune c'è.
Ed è quanto di più nobile e attraente possa offrirsi a degli spiriti
sinceramente aman- ti del progresso e della libertà. E' la lotta contro
le at- tuali classi dirigenti, grette, incapaci e disoneste, si
chia- mino borghesia o plutocrazia o pescecanismo o parlamen-
tarismo. Non è possibile lasciar loro più oltre la potenza del denaro e
il potere governativo e amministrativo; sono una casta che deve cadere e
cadrà. E’ questa caduta che noi dobbiamo affrettare, con tutti i mezzi e
con tutte le fotze disponibili. Or ora, l'esperimento del «
caro-viveri » in tante città d’Italia, ci ammonisce che di fronte a
problemi gravi e pressanti, non c’è odio di parte né antipatia
sentimentale che tenga. Noi possiamo ben dare (e l'abbiamo data)
una valida mano ai pussisti per impedire che il popolo sia
affamato. Non pottebbero i socialisti vedere nel nostro gesto
disinteressato e leale una prova della nostra sim- patia per il popolo,
si chiami combattente o si chiami operaio, e riconoscere che la nostra
azione tende, quanto e più forse della loro, ad equiparare le classi
sociali? Esiste un Marifesto del Partito Futurista, ed un
libro di Marinetti dal titolo « Democrazia futurista », dove è
condensato quanto di più moderno, di più progredito, di più spregiudicato,
di più audace e rivoluzionario si può oggi pensare nel campo politico. Ma
i partiti pseudo- 75 avanguardisti e
pseudo-rivoluzionari ostentano di ignora. re e manifesto e libro, né mai
hanno fatto il più timido gesto di simpatia o d'interesse verso idee o
remperamenti ai quali dovrebbero sentirsi attratti per istinto!
Perché? Eppure noi siamo libertari quanto gli anarchici, demo-
cratici quanto i socialisti, repubblicani quanto i repubbli- cani più
accesi. Si tratta dunque di mala fede? Pare di sì, perché, se
non fossero in mala fede, costoro dovrebbero inginoc- chiarsi davanti a
noi e chiamarci come loro capi. Se la loro lotta politica fosse sincera e
convinta (parlo special mente dei pussisti), dovrebbero ammirate senza
riserve il nostro spirito rivoluzionario che, dopo aver schiantato
quella fetida cancrena del passatismo europeo che si chia- mava Impero
d’Asburgo e contribuito a umiliare il tra- cotante militarismo tedesco,
vuole oggi demolire a colpi di bomba i vecchi sistemi, i regimi
decrepiti, i focolai di putredine che costituiscono la grande cloaca
politica ita- liana. Se fossero in buona fede, dovrebbero
riconoscere che noi soli, uomini di guerra che non ignoriamo il
piombo e l’acciaio laceratore di carni, sapremo, a tempo debito,
scatenare e condurre una rivoluzione, non già dal Quartier Generale di
una qualsiasi Camera del Lavoro, ma alla testa delle moltitudini in
marcia. Se fossero in buona fede, sapete che cosa dovrebbero
dire questi organizzatori di masse a scopi elettorali? Ci direbbero —
Venite qua, futuristi, arditi, fascisti, com- battenti tutti: voi che
siete più rivoluzionati di noi, più audaci di noi, più liberi di noi, voi
che amate il popolo più sinceramente di noi! Venite qua, uomini d'azione
e di comando: a voi il guidare le masse verso la libertà e la
ricchezza! a voi il rovesciare i vecchi sistemi, i vecchi dogmi e le
vecchie tirannidi! noi ci ritiriamo nei ranghi. Perché non lo
fanno? Perché questi falsi socialisti che scrivono in
giornali luridamente borghesi come Il! Tempo e La Stampa, per ché
pagano bene, si sfiatano a chiamarci reazionari della borghesia,
carabinieri più dei carabinieri, a diffamarci imbecillescamente? Perché hanno
respirato di soddisfazione al- l'avvento del reazionarissimo gabinetto
Nitti e complici? Perché hanno lanciato dalle colonne dell’Avanti
pochi giorni fa, un grido d'amote alla censura che se n’andava,
promettendole di richiamarla con tutti gli onori non ap- pena il
socialismo ufficiale fosse salito al potere? Perché tentano di far
credere ai soldati che gli uf- ficiali combattenti costituiscono una «
casta » borghese, quando i soldati ricordano ancora il loro tenentino
che in trincea si adagiava nello stessa fango, mangiava nella
stessa gavetta, correva gli stessi rischi, buscava le stesse ferite, come
ciascuno di loto? Perché non si decidono a riconoscere che la
guerra ha liberato il mondo dall'incubo dell'imperialismo germa-
nico e ha impresso alle conquiste ideali e materiali dei popoli un ritmo
di fantastica velocità, che, senza di essa, non si sarebbe neppure
sognato? Perché seguitano a confondere guerra rivoluzionaria
con militarismo, socialismo con bolscevismo, popolo con pagliacci
tesserati? Perché combattono gli Arditi, che pure sono usciti
dal popolo, e del popolo rappresentano la parte più vi- gorosa e
combattiva? Perché si ostinano a ripetere con tediosa
monotonia che la guerra è stata voluta dalla borghesia, attribuendo
dunque a questa classe un vanto che certo non le spetta? Ho
lanciato l’invito. Ho mostrato ai nostti avversari il terreno sul
quale potremmo intenderci, e le pregiudiziali antipatiche che
c’'impediscono un avvicinamento. Sapranno essi spogliarsi di queste
pregiudiziali che sono altrettanti errori gravissimi?
Sapranno a loro volta dirci una patola onesta e schiet- ta di
simpatia disinteressata? Se capiranno che è assurdo e bestiale continuare
una campagna diffamatoria contro una guerra che si è chiusa
vittoriosamente e che, malgrado tutto, ha giovato enormemente al
proletariato, se capi- ranno che noi pur amando fieramente l'Italia, non
abbia- mo nulla a che fare con i nazionalisti reazionari, codini
Fb) e clericali, essi ci tenderanno la mano e
ci aiuteranno a spezzare tutte le schiavitù che ancora ci
sovrastano. Dopo, potremo tornare a divorarci, se sarà necessario.
Marro CARLI {da: Roma futurista, 13 luglio 1919) Bisogno, ad
ogni sosta, di guardare attorno. Vedere un po' come va la vita, la cui
visione precisa, a volte, si perde nel martellamento sanguigno della
lotta. Misu- rare i compagni e gli avversari. Riprendere le
distanze. Ci teniamo molto, via via che più si ingarbuglia il
fascio di forze e di tendenze del mondo politico italiano, a rittovare i
nostri contorni. Pulirli. Indurirli sì che si rimbalzi sopra qualunque
tentativo di penetrazione im- pura. La lotta di partiti, nel
suo svolgimento poco netto, si traduce rispetto a noi futuristi,
assertori del predomi. nio della genialità italiana, in un lavoro di
isolamento. Le scorie cadono. La marcia viene schizzata via dalle
contrazioni atletiche della nostra carne sana. Solitudine
splendida. Nella costituzione organica dei vari aggregati di
parte noi siamo il cetvello possente che domina, e comanda alle tre
membra funzioni del tutto subordinate. In questa immagine somatica, il
partito socialista ufficiale rappre- senta, rispetto a noi, l'intestino
retto, maceratore e scari- catore d'ogni feccia. Un compito
troppo importante, come bene ha detto l’amico Settimelli, per poterlo
disprezzare. Ci vuole. Solamente è bene che non si dimentichi mai
la sua posizione assolutamente accessoria. La nostra
antipatia per il socialismo in genere, pet 76
il socialismo italiano in particolare, ha delle ragioni pro- fonde
balzanti dall'istinto della nostra razza di cui noi siamo i
rappresentanti più interiori, con tutti i suoi di- fetti se si vuole, ma
anche con tutte, t44te, le sue doti di energia, di intelligenza, di
ardimento. E distinguiamo ciò che sempre si può giustificare nel quadro
infinito della vita, l'idea, da ciò che, appunto perché nella vita, si
ha il dovere di discutere e di espellere, quando ne arresti il
libero svolgimento. Idee e uomini. Socialismo e
socialisti italiani. Noi siamo contro il socialismo perché
astrazione fi- losofica senza possibilità di contatti vitali. Simbolo
che si agita nel mondo da secoli, e di cui mai si è trovata, e mai
si troverà la formula di traduzione in positivi svi- luppi di masse
sociali. Meditazioni di uomini respinti dalla vita calda e vibrante, per
un ingranaggio disgraziato della loro mente incapace di aderire alla
bellezza appas sionante del mondo. La riforma che l'idee
socialiste propugnano, non na- sce da noi, dalla nostra maniera di
essere, dalla nostra natura di uomini, dal nostro modo di riunirci e
dividerci. Cala dall'alto, da cieli metafisici. Ha l’impotenza
caratte- ristica di tutte le religioni meditate, ragionate,
logiche, e non create dallo slancio lirico di un'anima d'uomo.
Marx ed Engels hanno costituito delle sopra realtà gigantesche che
tutti hanno dichiarato magnifiche, ma che nessuno ha avuto il coraggio di
criticare, appunto perché la critica umana non si può esercitare su delle
con- cezioni prive di umanità. Boris d’Ysckull, uno di quei
mistici slavi capaci di bere ogni miscela più insipida, ha confessato di
non aver mai compreso quasi niente di simili esposizioni domma-
tiche, e di essere stato attirato solo per la loro oscurità affascinante.
Chi, italiano, può così rinunziare alla vulca- nica e solate natura da
itrigidirsi in questi mondi sen- z'aria, non può che trovarsi
nell’identica posizione del- l’illustre imbecille surricordato. Le
prime utopie della Città, mantenentesi allo studio di immaginose e
dilettose 15; invenzioni nei primitivi —
Platone, Tommaso Moro Campanella — passando a peggior vita nelle scatole
cra. niche dei tedeschi, si sono meccanizzate in modo da di venire
delle cose perfettamente anti-geniali, anti-latine e, soprattutto
anti-italiane. Noi fututisti, che abbiamo violentato il vuoto e
so- gnante torpore italiano riempiendolo di idealità fatte di vita,
intessute di nervi sensibili, calde di sangue rossis- simo, vogliamo una
penetrazione a fondo nel blocco psi- cologico della nazione: ivi è la
direttiva unica delle tra- sformazioni che il nostro destino esige.
Noi siamo contro l’idea socialista perché sosteniamo la necessità
della diseduguaglianza. Diseduguaglianza di valori, che bisogna esaltate,
lievitare, mantenere ad ogni costo. Un piano uguale di esistenza, una
distribuzione ar- monica dei beni, una soppressione assoluta di
privilegi — ma su questo livellamento di condizioni materiali
l’esplicarsi diverso, individualissimo delle singole capacità. II
socialismo, pretendendo distruggere la molteplicità innata di un popolo
non può, in via logica, che discen- dere dalla nazione alla città alla
famiglia, dalla famiglia all'individuo, e quindi alla creazione di tanti
individui identici, a stampo, senza differenze di tipi. Il comunismo,
ch'è la forma più in voga, non può tradursi, a meno di negatsi, che in un
monismo esasperante, monotono e inerte. La Russia ce ne dà la
prova: la massa oppone al ten- tativo di numerazione, che offre appena
una pallida idea, per il carattere più pacato e passivo di quel popolo,
di ciò che avverrebbe da noi. L'Italia è tutta un magnifico
inno di incoerenza, dal l'Alpi alla Sicilia. Follemente varia. Ogni
provincia un mondo. Popolazioni dolci come le sue pianure,
laboriose come i suoi fiumi, divampanti come i suoi vulcani.
Noi non possiamo pensare che tutto ciò si riduca a un uniforme
impasto. Noi futuristi opponiamo la neces- sità assoluta di un
decentramento che mantenga, esalti, vivifichi fino al culmine ogni caratteristica,
ogni genialità, ogni attitudine delle singole regioni: l’unità italiana
sarà allora una valorizzazione completa di sufta i'Ttalia.
78 Siamo contto il socialismo perché idea generatrice di
vigliaccheria. Della gente che riuscisse davvero ad attuare la distribuzione
economica dello Stato socialista, dovreb- be basarsi su un concetto di
mutualità cooperativistica. Cooperativa a mutuo soccorso vuol dire
la sicurezza matematica di non rimaner mai al verde quindi abolita
ogni situazione di Jotta, reso campletamente inutile lo sviluppo e il
gusto del rischio. Spatizione di coraggio. Se ciò è immaginabile su
piccola scala, perché gli ef- fetti malefici sarebbero ridotti così al
minimo da essere cancellati dai vantaggi, non si può pensare cosa
sarebbe mai una nazione sottoposta a tale regime, soppressa ogni
difficoltà di cartiera, butocratizzata Ja conquista della vita, scomparso
ogni pericolo, ogni ansia, ogni tensione. Non trovando nulla di
vario nei suoi sirzili, non tro- vando nulla di divertente nella sua
esistenza logica, a ore, a mansioni fisse, l'uomo socialista finirebbe
col rientrare in sé stesso. Cercare in sé l'interesse che il mondo
non gli offre. Alla forza di diffusione dei popoli geniali, si
sostituirebbe quella di egoismo egocentrico dei popoli cal
colatori. Da simili mondi la generosità fugge taccapricciata,
non può distribuire i suoi insegnamenti di grandezza: è come andare
a vendere ombrelli in un paese dove non piove mai — a che serve esser
generosi con della gente che è tutto misurato, tutto il
necessario?... La morale che tali ambienti possono produtre è
ma- rale di egoismo e di vigliaccheria. Noi opponiamo la
morale della generosità, lucidamen- te affermata da Balilla Pratella,
quotidianamente da noi vissuta in una dedizione senza calcolo, in una
aderenza spontanea e intellipente alle tramutanti necessità della
Patria. Queste le tre ragioni fondamentali che ci dividono
dal socialismo — idea —: la astrazione filosofica e inu- mana della
formula, la sua azione di parificazione moni- stica, la derivazione
logica di antigenerosità = vigliac- cheria, egoismo. Altre ragioni
particolari ci sono, che ci porterebbero ad una disanima troppo lunga —
ragioni, del resto, che non sono specifiche della nostra differenza dal
socialismo, ma che possono essere anche di altri partiti. Esempi:
l'assurdità della soppressione dello Stato come potere cen- trale, la
sciocca concezione di una pace eterna, ecc. ecc. * o *
I socialisti italiani. Sono, indubbiamente, dei buoni
socialisti perché han- no già, in pieno regime borghese lo stadio mentale
senza calore e senza colore del socialista di domani. Non sen-
tiamo il bisogno di spenderci molte parole, né di pas- sarli in rivista
uno ad uno. Dirigenti: dittatura di vomini che hanno la mira
pre- cisa di diventare qualche cosa, un'autorità, una persona
importante. Non c'è tra loro neppure un mistico esaltato che interessi.
Calcolatori. Cinici. Seguaci: massa la cuì concezione più alta è
questa: bisogna distruggere il caroviveri. Gente che cerca di met-
tersi a posto. Invidia il horghese, quindi ha desiderio di divenire il
borghese. Le loto qualità principali sono:
inintelligenza: non hanno ancora capito che il sociali smo è diverso da
popolo a popolo: commerciale nel- l'America del Nord, conservatore
in Inghilterra, filosofico in Germania, mistico in Russia. Non hanno
capito che il socialismo in Italia può, caso mai, balzare dalle
nostre istituzioni rurali; inattualità: sano coerenti in una
maniera fantastica, tant'è vero che le idee invecchiano e loto seguitano
ad usarle. Credono d’essere all'avanguardia, e lo sono come il
gambero, il cui traguardo è sempre alle spalle, dietro: vigliaccheria:
oltre la vigliaccheria propria della idea hanno una viltà tutta propria,
personalissima, originale: inutile parlarne: chi interviene ai comizi
elettorali ne sa qualcosa. Il futurismo è il mondo più
lontano dal socialismo. 80 Il futurismo è veramente
il senso di una religione nuova, che si dirige alle anime, agli spiriti,
ai cervelli, e non si interessa del corpo che per fortificarne i
muscoli, farne strumento di agilità audacissime e di voluttà sane.
Generato dal cervello di un attista ha tutta l'umanità di una idea
italiana, sempre profumata di buona terra fer- tile anche quando si
esalti fino ai più puri orizzonti. Attività poliedrica, il
futurismo è lo sfruttamento com- pleto di tutte le penialità italiane,
manuali e cerebrali. Ridarà all'Italia i suoi magnifici artieri, maestri
d'ogni sotta di lavoro, come lo à dato e lo darà ai suoi artisti
più grandi. I suoi vomini non hanno deficienza: danno la loro vita in una
proteiforme attività prodigiosa. Poeti e soldati, sogno e vigilanza, idea
e azione. Non c’è possibilità di contatto tra la nostra
morale e quella socialista, tra i nostri uomini e i loro. E’
assurdo ogni pensiero di collaborazione. FUTURISMO CONTRO
SOCIALISMO. SEMPRE A QUALUNQUE COSTO! GiusePPE BOTTAI
{[da: Roma futurista.Noi e i borghesi Non una polemica, ma una
discussione calma e pa- cata. Polemica no, per non arrivare fino a quella
anima- zione un po’ acre e impetuosa, che annebbia le idee e
deforma la realtà. Ci tengo, a questa dichiarazione preliminare,
perché l'amico Mannarese, nel suo lucido articolo, pur mante-
nendosi in una linea di cortese serenità, devia in punta- tine ironiche,
che non èànno ragione di essere, se vera- 81
mente egli ci vuole aiutare, nella demarcazione esatta della nostra
individualità politica. Trovo ad esempio molto strano, per un
futurista, l'os- servarsi che la mia formula (adopto la parola
formula, per attenermi alla dizione dell'amico, per quanto essa ab-
bia un senso storico, che mi ripugna) abbia potuto rin- galluzzir di
saverchio, con la sua violenza: “futurismo con- tro sociglismo, sempre, a
qualungue costo” qualche buon borghesetto. Questo non mi preoccupa, e
direi, anzi non ci preoccupa. Noi esprimiamo liberamente le nostre
idee, le gettiamo nel mondo, tta la gente; e i casi sono due, come
sempre: o la gente non le capisce e allora non c’è nulla da fare: o le
capisce, le approva, ci si interessa, c le apprezza nel giusto valore, e
allora poco ci importa che tale gente sia proletaria o borghese, destra o
sinistra, e, anche, ambidestra. Noi non sosterremo mai,
com'un certo avvocatino di nostra conoscenza fece in una recente seduta
del Fascio di Combattimento romano, che la guerra ha distrutto agni
distinzione tra destra e sinistra; ma non vogliamo di tali logiche e necessarie
e salutari differenziazioni (?) fare il nostro spaventacchio. Chè, pet
questa via, si giunge alla grossolana affermazione di Adriano Tilgher
(Tempo, 7 dic., pag. 3, Piccoli borghesi al bivio): essere il
furore antisocialista degli atditi originato dall’appartenere
costo- ro, quasi tutti alle classi medie; e pensare che in parec-
chi mesi di convivenza con le fiamme nere mi son trovati attorno solo
contadini, operai, lavoratori-proletari! Prima caratteristica del
futurismo, è questa, libera, sciolta sfrenata spregiudicatezza: e se il
salumaio ci crede oggi difensori dei suoi salami, delle sue salsicce,
poco ma- le! ciò potrà darci la prova della sua minchioneria, non
già infirmate l’esattezza del grido « futurismo contro so- cialismo
». Socialismo non è proletariato L’amico Mannarese fa
un’identificazione pericolosissi- ma, e non rispondente alla realtà
positiva dei fatti. Egli 82 pone sullo
stesso piano socialismo e proletariato, stabili- sce senz'altro questa
identità matematica: socialismo = pro- letariato. Ciò spiega
perché tanto si accanisca contto la finale del mio articolo. Alle parole
« contro socialismo, sempre a qualunque costo » è dato il valore di
un'affermazione di questo genere: « contro le aspirazioni del popolo,
contro i diritti dei poveri, ecc., ecc... ». Orta, mi ribello
assolutamente. Non in nome mio sol tanto, ma di tutti i futnristi, e
anche, di tutti i nostri amici fascisti. Distinguere
bisogna. Una cosa è quello che l'amico chiama: «/o sforzo
vio- lento, l’oscura irresistibile aspirazione della massa verso un
regime di maggior giustizia economica » e un'altra cosa è il socialismo.
Le aspirazioni proletatie sono fatto imma- nente, istintivo, fatale, non
pensato ma sorto da sé, il so- cialismo è uno dei tanti sistemi, i quali,
da che il mondo è mondo, si accaniscono sulla disparità di condizioni
delle classi. Se io mi pongo contro il socialismo o contro i
socia- listi, mi dichiaro contrario ad un sistema filosofico, giu-
ridico, economico, morale ed ai suoi sostenitori (filosofi, demagoghi e
procaccianti che siano), ma non è detto ch’io voglia attaccare l’oggetto
di tale sistema che è il prole- tariato. Non debbo, quindi,
rettificare in nulla la mia incri- minata frase, ch'era un grido, un appello
conclusivo del mio articolo, limitatosi ad una valutazione di idee, e
non aveva la pretesa d’essere un caposaldo, un domma, un punto
cardinale, ed altri simili paroloni che noi lasciamo agli oratori da
comizio. L'affermazione: « Noi non siamo contro il
socialismo, ma contro gli uomini, i metodi e la filosofia socialista
» del Mannarese è un non-senso, perché appunto: socialismo è
flosofia sostenuta da wormini con determinati metodi. Quella che il
Mannarese chiama sostanza (eh! queste parole che otribili titi
giuocavano, a volte) ossia: «la guerra per l'indipendenza economica dei
poveri contro i R3 ricchi » non è
privativa assoluta del socialismo, è solo l'obiettivo dei suoi studi, dei
suoi tentativi, come essa fu obbietto della favola di Menenio Agrippa, e
delle teorie di Fenelon, e della scuola di Saint Simon, e del
sistema di Grace Baboeuf e Roberto Qwen, e così pure della filosofia di
Marx ed Engels. Anche il nazionalismo, anche il partito popolare, tutti
anno affermazioni solenni: « qui è l'unico infallibile specifico per il
dolore del po- palo » e io posso essere contro questi modi da
cerratani senza mai essere né contro il popolo né contro le sue
sacre e legittime aspirazioni economiche I programmi
economici All'amico Mannarese è forse sfuggito nel mio
articolo questo periodo: « Un piano eguale di esistenza, una di-
stribuzione armonica di beni, una soppressione assoluta di privilegi ma
su questo livellamento di condizioni mate- viali l’esplicarsi diverso, individualissimo
delle singole ca- pacità ». Qui, evidentemente, si
dice: « noi passiamo essere d'accordo nelle finalità economiche del
socialismo ». Quelle tre proposizioni del programma politico futurista di
Ma- tinetti, Carli e Sertimelli, che il Mannarese dice troppo
generiche, anno il merito di poter domani assorbire in sé, senza
contrasto, qualunque ardimento consono allo spi- rito dei tempi.
Hanno un’intenzione pragmatista, che non deve sfug- gite.
Il programma di riforme economiche, lanciato ai po- poli come
panacèa, è cosa vecchia di tutti i tempi e di tutte le genti. Ogni scuola
politica è per prima cosa inal- berata questa insegna molto attraente.
Tutti i programmi ben definiti, schematizzati, rigidi, anno sempre
atteso, con grande pazienza, che le cose del mando si incanalas-
sero ne’ fossati, canali e zenelle da loro tracciati, ma le cose del
mondo anno dimostrato, a lume di storia, di procedere per via di
approssimazioni successive, le quali avvengono non già pet magnetizzazione
esetcitata cai suddetti programmi, ma per madificazioni addotte, nel
blocco fisiopsicologico di una collettività, dal sistema di educa-
zione, dalle idee di morale circolanti, dalla rinnovatasi coscienza
giuridico-sociale. Se oggi, per ragioni ovvie, il problema
economico è venuto in primo piano, non bisogna dimenticare che la
parte veramente essenziale di un sistema politico non è già il disegno di
un futura assestamento economico, ma è il metodo con cui saprà,
attraverso uno studio positivo dello stato presente e dei caratteri
permanenti della so- cietà in genere (meglio ancora di una data parte di
so- cietà) creare tutt'un’atmosfera spirituale intellettuale psi-
cologica, che renda possibile l’attuazione di quel dato or- dinamento
economico, che nel momento è bene limitarsi a definire
desiderabile. I socialisti italiani sanno che il popolo italiano
non à neppure iniziata l'evoluzione sociale che permetta l’av-
vento, ad esempio, del comunismo. Ora essi, scavalcando completamente ogni
lavoro di educazione, sventagliano i loro proclami di rivendicazioni
economiche. Il popolo risponde, è naturale: è Bengodi con i suoi
meravigliosi panorami. Ma ciò non significa aver creata una società
comunista, come non è fare un signore aristocratico d'un villanzone
qualsiasi il riempirgli le tasche di denaro. Sotto il punto di
vista della potenzialità vera di un partito il valore di tali programmi è
nullo. Hanno un valore pratico di specchietto per gli allocchi, e se
l'amico Mannarese ci avesse detto che, abbondando gli allocchi, è
bene ch’anche noi abbiamo il nostro specchietto, gli avremmo dato piena
ragione. Il nuovo imperialismo Non ci deve, quindi,
affligere di soverchio, la man- canza di formulazioni teoriche, di
programmi economici. Noi futuristi non siamo mai stati assenti quando
questio- ni positive siano in tal senso nate. Né il trionfo
socialista deve farci perder la resta così da correr subito ai
ripari. No. La nostra posizione è netta, e possiamo guardarci
85 tranquillamente intorno: il germe della morte del
socia- lismo è appunto localizzato nel suo sistema di rivendica-
zioni economiche, aggravato dal fatto di essete così iso- lato da ogni
altra considerazione d'ordine superiore da divenire il segno folle di un
nuovo imperialismo. Non è possibile nessun contatto tra due
sistemi così opposti come sono quello socialista e quello
futurista. E’ l’anima differente. E' il cervello
diverso. Se anche noi potessimo conglobare per intero nel
no- stro ordine di idee ogni aspirazione economica del socia-
lismo, rimarrebbe la differenza profonda, incancellabile di indole, di
origine e di finalità. Noi siamo per l'elevazione del popolo, e non
pet l’as- solutismo demagogico di essa. Tirando le
somme E riassumiamo, perché la discussione non rimanga uno
sterile battibecco. L'amico Mannarese m’à offerto il modo di delineare
meglio la nostra situazione innanzi al socia. lismo: 1)
posizione di ostilità per indole spirituale diversa; 2) possibile
comunanza di vedute economiche: il che non implica nessuna fusione;
3) condivisione di alcune idee (come ad esempio il divorzio ecc.
ecc.) che non sono prerogativa socialista, € che non possono, quindi,
render omogenee due sostanze diverse. CONTRO IL SOCIALISMO NON VUOL
DIRE CONTRO IL PROLETARIATO. GiusePPE BOTTAI [da:
Roma futurista, 21 dicembre 1919] La lentezza delle democrazie, le
pastoie burocrati che dei procedimenti parlamentari. il vecchiume
paro- laio dei barbuti senatori non possono essere ben visti dai
futuristi. La velocità, il dinamismo, la lotta, la competizione, l’azione
mal si addicono agli organismi pingui e sclerotici delle democrazie,
quella italiana in particolare. Già nel 1910 Marinetti lo mette in
rilie- vo ed indica nel suo manifesto «Contro l'amore e 3
parlamentarismo », sintomo ed espressione di questa sua antipatia e di
guesta sua avversione Persino l'amo- re e le donne in senso romantico
sono indici e stru menti di « rallentamento », e come tali da evitare tran-
ne che per una loro ben precisa ed organica funzione vitale. Le donne
andrebbero invece bene pei parlamen ti, dove dovrebbero entrare con le
loro chiacchiere e la loro prodigiosa e altisonante facoltà di
falsificazione. Ma non è solo Marinetti a inveire contro il
parla mentarismo: c'è Tavolato che uddirittura « bestemmia contro
la democrazia » in un suo articolo apparso con questo titolo su Lacerba
del 1° febbraio 1914, ricco di espressione e carico di colore linguistico
e letterario. I 30 dicembre dello stesso anno un altro futurista,
Volt, tuona dalle colonne di Roma fututista: Abolia- mo il parlamento! In
sua sostituzione si propongonna le rappresentanze dei sindacati per la
formazione dello «Stato tecnico » futurista. E si entra nel merito
della personalità giuridica dei sindacati e della loro forza rap-
presentativa in base all'importanza della loro funzione economica. Non in
base numerica, per cui si rientrereb- be nella concezione democratico-parlamentare.
Non più onorevoli quindi sulle assise delle due camere, ma la-
voratori. E sono tutti concetti che ritroveremo nella concezione
corporativa fascista e nella suu Carta del Lavoro Dopo la
guerra Marinetti intervtene su Roma futu- rista mel maggio del '19 per
ribadire la sua.« concezione futurista della democrazia », come
s'intitola il suo scrit- to, che era già apparso um mese prima, più 0
mena analogo, su L'Ardito. Vi si sostiene la democrazia tipi
camente italiana dei geni: una sorta di minoranze di individui superiori
alla media, destinati a entrare. in competizione con le altre, definite
democrazie incoscien- li, come prodotta numerico « d’inetti e di
sconclusiona- ti». La forza della nuova democrazia dovrà essere na-
turdimente violentissima data l'accelerazione e il ren dimento degli
individui geniali. La sua « conclusione » sarà logica e conseguenziale: «
La democrazia futurista è ormai pronta ad agire, poiché sente vibrare
tutte le sue cellule vive ». L'azione sarà condotta da Mussolini,
ma il presupposto è già comunque e totalmente presente.
BESTEMMIA CONTRO LA DEMOCRAZIA Tre spanne sotto il cervello io
nutto un odio, un odio contro la presunzione del lavoro, un odio contro
il puzzo cosciente, un odio contro l’imbecillita evoluta. Tre
spanne sotto il cervello si spenge ogni polemica. I de- mocretini
rinunzino alla discussione. I democretini s’ada- gino sopra i loro luoghi
comuni, perché il mio piede pos- sa calpestarli. Via, batbe
comiziesche che mi nascondete il sole. Via, mani a ventola e cravatte a
bandiera. Fermati, passo de- mocratico sotto cui trema la terra offesa.
Arrestatevi, la- mentele filamentose, voci incristianare, zuccherose
o pe- pate. Via, spade di legno, trombe sfiatate, via,
inesistenti barricate. Smontate, uomini di paglia, uomini di stoppa
uomini di cartastraccia. Nascondetevi, ceffi di cera, ma- scheratevi,
faccie rinfisecchite, sparite, ghigne insolenti. Sgonfiate, protobischeri
pastori di popolo. Aria ci vuole, e luce e calore e solidità, o anima
mia. Abbasso la de- mocrazia! Fumano d'orgoglio, le gran fave. Fumano,
questi strac- cioni e stronzoni, questi mangiasputi e fiutarutti,
questi tinconi, questi turabuchi, questi scotticapidocchi, questi
merdaioli, questi caconi, questi galoppini, questi pagnot- tisti, questi
biasciconi, questi lumaconi, questi minchioni, questi balordi gonzi e
gralli, questi coglioni appuzzoni e cittulli, questi sussurroni
caccoloni, questi satraponi vir- tuosoni. Già tutto il paese fuma,
smerdata com'è da que- ste pecore matte. Pulizia, pulizia, pulizia!
Abbasso la de- mocrazia! Bischeri sollevatissimi, bischeri
smargiassi, bischeri ventosi, bischeri girandoloni, bischeri soppiattoni,
bische- ri politicanti, bischeri economicizzanti, bischeri vani,
bi- scheri solenni, bischeri tronfi, bischeri crespi, bischeri cal.
losi, bischeri pensosi, bischeti pacifisti, bischeri leghisti, bischeri
classisti, bischeri marxisti, bischeti riformisti, bi- scheri
collettivisti, bischeri revisionisti, bischeti comunisti, bischeri credenti,
bischeri fetenti, bischeri ufficiali, bische- ri legali, bischeri di
cartapecora, bischeri del braccio, bi- scheri del cervello, bischeri
antilibici, bischeri internazio- nalisti, bischeri democratici — BISCHERI
DI TUTTO IL MONDO UNITEVI! La vostra individualità non ha
importanza. Unitevi! Amalgamatevi! Confondetevi in mel- ma! Anche la
melma dei bischeri, come ogni melma, s'in- crosterà. E sotto le croste ci
sarà il gelo della morte. Così sia. Abbasso la democrazia!
Accidenti alla democrazia, impero delle bestie da so- ma, regno degli
schiavi, padronanza dei servi, supremazia degli impiegati! Democrazia,
sostegno degli sfiaccolati, trionfo dei cimiciosi, glotia dei piattolosi,
arma dei bro- dolosi; democrazia, orchestra di miasmi, concerto di
sputi, convegno di sudori, sistema di muffe; democrazia, vitto- ria
dei muscoli e disfatta dei nervi, esautorazione dell’arte e imposizione
del mestiere, vita del debole e agonia del forte; lurida, sudicia, tetra
democrazia, cloaca dove affo- gano fantasia, ingegno, energia, e tutte le
soavità; pro- terva asineria, fessa stivaletia: abbasso la
democrazia! E rovini Ia mediocrità! Fuoco al tugurio
dei democretini! I democretini è la lanterne! La
libertà soltanto a chi sa cosa farsene, a chi sa vi- verla.
Agli altri il giogo, la sferza e la schiavitù. EVVIVA LA FORCA, o
amici, per la libertà vostra e per la libertà mia! ABBASSO
LA DEMOCRAZIA. TAVOLATO [da: Lacerba,Firenze] Aboliamo
pure il Parlamento — si domandano mol- îi — ma cosa metteremo al suo
posto? La risposta è pronta. Soszituiremo til Parlamento con
le rappresentanze dei sindacati agricoli industriali ed ope- rai.
La rappresentanza sindacale sarà la base dello « Stato tecnico »
futurista. AI « collegio » elettorale, circoscrizione fittizia ed
ar- bitraria, entità che sembra creata apposta per l'esercizio del
broglio, sostituiremo il sindacato, espressione organica delle forze
economiche che danno effettivamente forma alla società. AI posto dell’«
onorevole » deputato, dema- gogo costretto all’accattonaggio sistematico
del voto e feu- datario di una nuova feudalità peggiore dell'antica,
man- deremo a governare il paese ingegneri, commercianti ed operai,
gente che sa il suo mestiere e conosce i bisogni reali della propria
classe. Invece di un’Assemblea di in- ttiganti, di chiacchieroni e di
incompetenti, avremo un corpo tecnico adatto allo scopo di dirigere, con
conoscen- za di causa, la grande azienda dello Stato. In
pratica l'idea della rappresentanza sindacale si tro- va di fronte a
difficoltà serie ma non insopportabili. Vati problemi ci si
presentano. 1) A quali sindacati concederà lo Stato la
personalità politica? Si tratterà di determinare le categorie di
pto- duttori che avranno diritto a una rappresentanza nel corpo
legislativo. L'iscrizione ai sindacati sarà obbligatoria per tutti
i cittadini? A me sembta che sia più logico lasciare che esercitino i
diritti politici coloro che ne hanno la volontà e coscienza.
Coloro che resteranno volontariamente fuori dei sin. dacati
cortisponderanno in parte alle masse degli astenuti nelle odierne
elezioni a suffragio universale. In base a quale criterio si misurerà il
numero di voti da attribuirsi a ciascuna categoria di sindacati? E’
la questione più scottante. Il criterio più semplice è quello
numerico. Ma così si ricade nell'atomismo individualistico del suffragio
universale. Io credo che non si debba tener conto del numero
degli iscritti al sindacato, ma della importanza della fun- zione
economica che esso esercita nel Paese. Quindi un sindacato di industriali
metallurgici avrà una rappresen- tanza eguale a quella di un sindacato di
lavoratori del ferro benché questi ultimi siano molto più numerosi.
E ciò perché l’importanza delle due funzioni si con- trobilancerà
nell'economia nazionale. L'amico Settimelli dirà che questo è un
criterio poco democratico. Me ne infischio. 4) Quali saranno
i limiti posti all'esercizio del potere dell'assemblea eletta mediante la
rappresentanza sindacale? La competenza dell'assemblea dovrà essere
limitata alle questioni prevalentemente economiche, che sono del
resto le più importanti in politica. Le questioni di
famiglia, di politica estera ecc. dovran- no esser risolte in parte
mediante il « referendum » popo- lare diretto ed in parte
attribuite alla competenza del po- rere esecutivo. Non ho
fatro che accennare le principali questioni. In- vito tutti i giovani
futuristi ad inviarmi le loro soluzioni ai quattro problemi che ho posta,
senza avere la pretesa di risolverli definitivamente. Ma mi sembra che la
que- stione sia matura per lo studio. E poi per noi futuristi «
studio » deve significare già un principio di esecuzione. E’ l’ora di
finirla col Parlamento. Abbiamo fatto la guerra senza bisogno del
Parlamento. Senza il Parlamento sapre- mo fare la pace. E' ora di
sbarazzare l’Italia dalle 508 incompetenze che spadroneggiano a
Montecitorio. VOLT [da: Roma futurista, DEMOCRAZIA
FUTURISTA L’orgoglio italiano non deve essere, non è
imperialismo che spera imporre industrie, accaparrare commerci,
inon- dare di prodotti agricoli. Nai difettiamo di materie prime, e
siamo una potenza di ricchezza agricola mediocre. Il nostro orgoglio
italiano è basato sulla superiorità nostta come quantità enorme di
individui geniali. Voglia- mo dunque creare una vera democrazia cosciente
e audace che sia la valutazione e Ja esaltazione del numero poiché
avrà il maggior numero di individui geniali. L’Italia rappresenta nel
mondo una specie di minoran- za genialissima tutta costruita di individui
superioti alla media umana per forza creatrice innovatrice
improvvisatri- ce. Questa democrazia entrerà naturalmente in
competizio- ne con la maggioranza formata dalle altre nazioni, per
le quali il numero significa invece massa più o meno cieca, cioè
democrazia incosciente. Su 1000 slavi vi sono due o tre
individui. L'ultima fulminea nostra vittoria ha dimostrato che
non vi è gruppo di italiani (20, 30 o 40) che non contenga al- meno
10 o 15 individui capaci di iniziativa e di direttiva personale
Abbiamo ancora da sgombrare e da bonificare le zone morte
dell’analfabetismo. Questo compito molto arduo con un nemico minaccio- so
alle porte è oggi compito facile e senza pericoli per la unità e
indipendenza nazionale. Nazione ricca di individui geniali,
democrazia intelli- gentissima. Quantità di personalità tipiche, massa di
tipi unici, democrazia che non vuole imporsi bancariamente,
industrialmente, colonialmente, ma può e deve dominare il mondo e
dirigerlo con la sua maggiore potenzialità ed altezza di luce.
Noi crediamo che l'ora è venuta di tentare tutte le ri- voluzioni
per liberare il popolo italiano da tutti i pesi morti e da tutti i ceppi
(matrimonio e famiglia Cattolica soffocatrice, pedantismo professorale,
elettoralismo, menta- lità pessimistica, provinciale mediocrista e
quietista). Liberata dal giogo della vecchia famiglia
tradizionale, dal dogma dell'anzianità, l'Italia manifesterà finalmente
la sua potenza di 40 milioni d’individui italiani tutti intelli-
genti e capaci di autonomia. Concezione assolutamente apposta alla
cretinissima concezione germanofila che voleva svalutare i 40 milioni di
individui italiani per organizzarli meccanicamente. Su]
palcoscenico della razza italiana dobbiamo mette- re in luce 40 milioni
di ruoli diversi perché in questa luce possa perfettamente svolgersi il
valore tipico d'ognuno.(Censura) Noi non abbiamo la nevrastenica pigrizia,
la neghittosi- tà, il misticismo, il boiantismo ideologico, l’ossessione
teo- rificatrice della Russia. Siamo pieni di senso pratico, di
tenacia costruttrice, di ingeniosità inesauribile, di eroismo bene
impiegato. Possiamo dunque dare tutti i diritti di fare c disfare al
numero, alla quantità, alla massa poiché da noi numero quantità e massa
non saranno mai come in Germa- nia e in Russia numero quantità o massa
d’inetti e di sconclu- sionati, Arturo Labriola definisce la
democrazia « come senti. mento dei diritti concreti della massa sullo
Stato e sulla Economia ». Noi futuristi consideriamo la
democrazia non in astrat- to ma bensì la « democrazia italiana ».
Parlare di democrazia in astratto è fare della retorica. Vi sono
numerose democrazie, ogni razza ha la sua de- mocrazia, come ogni razza
ba il suo femminismo. Noi intendiamo la democrazia italiana come
massa di individui geniali, divenuta perciò facilmente cosciente
del suo diritto e naturalmente plasmatrice del suo divenire
statale.La sua forza è fatta di questo diritto acquisito, molti- plicata
dalla sua quantità valore, meno il peso delle cellule malate
(incoscienti, analfabeti). La democrazia italiana è per noi un corpo umano
che bisognerà liberare, scatenare, alleggerire, per accelerarne la
velocità e centuplicarne il rendimento. La democrazia italiana si
trova oggi nell'ambiente più favorevole al suo sviluppo. Ambiente di
rivoluzione-guerra nel quale è costretta a risolvere tutti i suoi
casi-problemi insoluti, le cui soluzioni possono esercitare una
influenza sul suo avvenire. Necessità igienica di continua
ginnastica trasformattice, improvvisatrice. Il governo si
allarma oggi nel vedere formarsi innume- revoli associazioni di
combattenti. Se non fosse un governo di miopi reazionari tremanti di
paura accaglierebbe favo. revolmente questo nuovo ritorno di vitalità
italiana. La guerra ha semplicemente svegliate le coscienze di
4 o 5 milioni di italiani che tornano oggi dalla guerra, atric-
chiti di una personalità politica. E’ la prima volta nella storia
che più di quattro mi. ltoni di cittadini di una nazione hanno Ja fortuna
di subire in soli 4 anni un'educazione intensiva e completa con le-
zioni di fuoco, di eroismo e di morte. Spettacolo meraviglioso di
tutto un esercito partito per la guetra quasi incosciente e
ritornato politico e degno di governare. La democrazia
futurista è ormai pronta ad agire, poiché sente vibrare tutte le sue
cellule vive. Naturalmente ha un bisogno urgente di spalancare
le porte e di uscire all’aperto. I) governo si allarma, reprime e
trema, come la nonna leggendaria teme che il nipotino pigli un
raffreddore. Fuori l’aria è frizzante e salubre. Il sole,
spalancato, be- ve il mare di liquido quasi solido saporito azzurro,
tutto spumante di raggi, tutto da bere fino all'ultimo sotso.
F.T. MARINETTI fda: Roma futurista, un EMILIO
SETTIMELLI F. T. MARINETTI FUTURISMO E PRIMO FASCISMO
Emilio Settimelli commenta il Congresso di Firenze su 1 nemici d'Italia
(« settimanale antibolscevico diret to da Armando Mazza ») del 10 ottobre
del 1919. I discorso di Meorinetti al congresso apparirà su
L'Ardito del 26 ottobre dello stesso anno, ma era già apparso tre
giorni prima su I nemici d’Italia (23 ottobre). Del discorso e della
«necessità dello svaticanamento » ab- biamo già parlato. Ma si
postula anche l'ipotesi di un eccilatorio di giovanissimi capaci di
sostituire il semato dei vecchi, ormai da abolire. Al suo posto un
«consi glio tecnico » andrebbe sollecitato e stimolato da gio vani
sotto i trent'anni, a moto continuo Si parla poi di un
proletariato dei geniali, quello degli artisti d’Italia, più o meno a
nascosti od esclusi », che andrebbero favoriti o promossi da iniziative
pub. bliche atte all'aiuto della loro espressione. L'origine della
proposta da parte di una «mente d'artista » ri. sulta evidente. Marinetti
è definito, al caso, « ardito della poesia». La definizione è sempre di
Settimeth, che sostiene inoltre Marinetti sia «uscito » dal Con
gresso in «trinonmio» con Mussolini e D'Annunzio. quello del « dopo Fiume
»: un'alleanza politica mei fino ad allora verificatasi. Ed
è ancora Settimelli, a questo proposito, a inneg- giare ai due personaggi
(Marinetti e Mussolini) in un suo scritto, già pubblicato su I nemici
d'Italia # 4 set tembre 1919. Lo riportiamo perché ci sembra
significa tivo di un legame e di un rapporto. Non è vero che l'arte
debba essere estranea alla politica, vi si sostiene. Anzi, è proprio
l'artista a darle una sua interpretazione od un suo connotato, un suo
«travestimento », od usa sua immagine fanto più nuova, quanto più
ardimentose ed « ardita». Mussolini è stato capace di recepirlo, e
il fascismo è un fenomeno nuovo praprin per questo, e
d'avanguardia. La tesi di Settimelli è tipica del «futurismo
delle origini » o classica di un momento rivoluzionario, 0 di
rinnovamento. Ma anche Armando Mazza pubblica un «fondo » il 30 Ottobre
dello stesso anno sulla mede- sima testata (I nemici d'Italia). L'articolo
non è fir- mato, ma è inserito sotto il titolo a quattro colonne:
Fascisti, a noi!, con un commento alle prospettive elet- torali, un
trafiletto in commemorazione della vittoria nella’ ricorrenza annuale, e
una colonna intestata: Ciò che ci divide. Vi si spiegano 1 motivi di
disaccordo e distacco da tutte le altre forze politiche, quelle
ew-neu traliste e quelle del passatisma MUSSOLINI E IL
FASCISMO Pensare col proprio cervello originale, liberare
comple- tamente il proprio temperamento, essere gli annunciatori e
i fondatori di una nuova mentalità: sofferenza di tutti i momenti.
Mantenere la provria posizione di avanguardia, è cosa da
giganti. Parteciparvi per qualche tempo è da tutti. À
un certo momento rimani quasi solo: la gran parte degli amici si arrende,
brutta e spregevole nella sua viltà mascherata di scetticismo, oppure non
crede più, sopraf- fatta dalla vecchia e comoda mentalità. Disertano,
perdono ogni ritegno, ti attaccano. Si vendicano di averli resi —
sia pure per un anno — intelligenti, credono di poter me- nomare la
saldezza del tuo accizio, ti fanno recedere con i loro atteggiamenti di
commendatoria superiorità: cafoni ad- domesticati, provinciali
inguaribili. Vivi in un ambiente pericoloso e stancante perché
sen- ti che è creato per l’« altra gente »1 mediocre, podagrosa.
Ti urti della continua ostilità. Ti trovi dinanzi ad un
avversario senza spirito, mono- tono, insistente. Un avversario
indegno che ha la bruttezza goffa del rinoceronte e il rompiscatolismo
della zanzara. Hai delle donne. Tentano di tutto per convincerle
a rinsavire e ti denigrano in mille modi cercando di portarle a
qualche mediocre ronzino o a qualche nobilissimo eunuco lucroso 0
decorativo. Lavori. Il tuo lavoro ba sempre qualche parte che
esorbita. Mai delle amicizie, ti seguono fino ad nn certo punto. Non
possono capirti a fondo. Sei fatto per un mondo di eroismo, di
forza, di bellez- za, di temerità. Le tue grandi ali t’impediscono di
cammi- nare come il gabbiano di Baudelaire. (eTe)
Tutto questo è atroce, ma di colpo una vittoria ti ripaga di
tutto. Aver avuto ragione, aver visto lontano, aver costruito
un nuovo pezzo della vita, sia pure un piccolo pezzo, avere anche per un
attimo e per un millimetro contribuito allo allargamento del mondo ti fa
vibrare per la gioia dei ver- tici. Oggi ho questa gioia e
la divido con quei pochi che da dieci anni lavorano con me alla formazione
di un am- biente intellettuale italiano libero dai professori, dai tradi.
zionali, dai gottosi (non alludo ai seguaci del romanziere
Salvator!). E Ia nostra gioia diviene frenetica quando
constatiamo che da un'altra parte, dalla politica ci veniva incontro
un uomo formidabile, nuovo come noi, libero come noi. E' la gioia
dei minatori che s'incontrano finalmente dopo aver forata la montagna. Un
«evviva », una manata di terra sulle facce ebbre, sopra i sudori riganti
e una stretia di mano che è una prova del cuore e dei garretti.
Mentre con Marinetti e con gli altri amici lavoravamo il campo
artistico, dall'altro si muoveva Mussolini lavo- rando il campo politico.
Ci dovevamo incontrare. Un gi- gante questo magnifico Mussolini! Con la
forza ma anche col peso di un grande ingegno, di un'anima vasta, di
un temperamento spaccafore, figlio di un fabbro ferraio si tira su
a suon di muscoli, di ingegno e di fegato. Supera la più massacrante
battaglia: quella contro la miseria, quella che non potrà mai esser
capita da chi non l’ha provata. Chi è nato ricco non potrà mai essere
completamente den- tro la realtà e non avrà mai il collaudo delle sue
energie. Domina le folle, organizza, sbaraglia Turati, Treves, Rai-
mondo. Galvanizza il partito socialista. Scoppia la guerra, capisce che
la neutralità sarebbe contro il socialismo € per il medioevo autocratico.
Tenta di persuadere. I mediocri ne approfittano per liberarsi della sua
grandezza. Si forma la imbecillocrazia dell’Avanzi! Mussolini lascia il
partito che rimane acefalo e si divincola in movimenti balordi e
vili. Intanto i piedi ridono soddisfatti per essersi liberati della
100 testa. Nasce così il Popolo d'Italia. Il primo
quotidiano veramente moderno e veramente italiano. Un ritrovo di
energie vive, spregiudicate, temerarie. Il lievito di questo buon pane
italiano nato dalla guerra. In esso tutti i vivi si incontrano:
Futurismo, Arditismo, D'Annunzio. E' una punta sensibile e perforante, è
l'effervescenza della grande coppia italica, è il primo nucleo per una
Italia nuova. Ma il quotidiano non basta a Mussolini. Uomo
d'azio- ne ha bisogno di concretare, vuol raccogliere ciò che semi-
na giornalmente. Nasce il fascismo. Fenomeno degno della più grande
ammirazione e del più appassionante esame. Più che un partito è una
mentalità. Non si basa sulla promessa di un certo paradiso futuro, si
muove problematicamente passo per passo alternando transigenza a
intransigenza, idealismo a realtà, arte a pratica concreta. Gli avversari
del Fascismo sono le vecchie anime che marciano solo dietro promesse
iperboliche e utopistiche, che scambiano incoe- renza con duttilità, che
non vivono dentro la vita vera e vibrante, ma fra gli schemi arrugginiti
di una mentalità libera. TI Fascismo raccoglie gli italiani
più intelligenti e più moderni con la sua ferrea ossatura di
concretamento fa- sciato da una atmosfera di sensibilità, di cordialità
idea- listica, di eleganza e di colore. Rende possibile la politica
anche per i temperamenti più contrari ad essa. Per esem- pio gli artisti
e gli ironici. L'Italia abbonda di artisti e di ironici, anzi essi
formano la sua parte migliore, intellettual. mente. Mussolini
ha avuto il grande pregio di creare un’atmo- sfera politica che non
ripugna a questi scelti, a questi « mi. gliori ».
L'intelligenza disinteressata si allontana dalla politica quando
essa s'imperna sulla falsa promessa di un paradiso certo, sul settarismo,
sulla gretteria animale. Si sta preparando in Italia quella rinascita
totale, ba- sata sull’arte che tra le più feroci ironie e gli
scetticismi più assoluti amnnunciai nella « Inchiesta sulla vita italiana
». SETTIMELLI (da: 1 nemici d'Italia, Milano, SOGNO UN
GOVERNO DI TECNICI, ECCITATO DA UN'ASSEMBLEA » Cari
Fascisti! Cari Arditi! V'invito ad acclamare un valoroso fascista
assente, che sarebbe qui con noi se il Governo anti-italiano di
Nitti non l’avesse condannato a tre mesi di fortezza Mario
Carli, (Grida unanimi di: Viva Mario Carli! e applausi). Il
futurista Mario Carli è sfuggito alla polizia di Al- bricci e gode
l'atmosfera igienica di Fiume italiana. Ha brillato così una volta di più
l'elasticità veramente futu- rista di questo poeta che sa tutti i viaggi
più pericolosi dello spirito, le esplorazioni più sottili della
psicologia, i razzi più colorati ed anche la strategia delle strade
in tumulto e il governo delle assemblee popolari. A Mario Carli,
poeta delle Notti filtrate, si deve la fondazione del Fascio di
combattimento romano, e, insieme con Setti- melli, del Partito politico
futurista, e del giornale Rome futurista. Egli capeggiò tutte le
dimostrazioni violente per Fiume italiana, per la Dalmazia italiana e per
la difesa della vittoria, contro il bolscevismo rosso e nero,
rinun- ciatario e nittiano. V'invito a gridare ancora: Viva il fu-
turista Mario Carli! (Quazione, applausi). Lo «svaticanamento
». Io approvo incondizionatamente, in nome del futuri smo e
dei futuristi italiani, tutto il programma dei Fasci di combattimento,
che vi è stato esposto dal mio amico Fabbri. Trovo però in questo
programma delle lacune gravi, sulle quali richiamo tutta la vostra
attenzione. Fascisti! Non c'è maggior pericolo, per l’Italia, del
pe- ricolo nero. Il popolo italiano, che ha saputo osare, vo- lere
e compiere l’immane sforzo eroico e vittorioso della 102
grande guerra, decidendo, con la sua vittoria, la vittoria del
futurismo elastico, geniale, sul passatismo teutonico, cubico e
professorale, fallirebbe alla sua missione se non sapesse energicamente
liberare la bella penisola, agile e palpitante di vita, dalla lue mortale
del papato. Noi dob- biamo domandare, volere, imporre, l'espulsione del
papato, o meglio ancora, per usare una espressione più precisa, lo
« svaticanamento ». (Applausi, ovazione) L'« Eccitatorio ».
Continuando nell'analisi del Programma dei Fasci di combattimento,
trovo l'abolizione del Senato, al quale si sostituirebbe un Consiglio
nazionale tecnico. Ebbene: io vi dichiaro che il concetto di tecnicità è
importantissimo, ma non basta. Il Senato rappresenta nella storia dei
po- poli un costante ossequio alla saggezza dei vecchi, chiama- ti
intorno al potere per frenarlo, maturarne i propositi, dirigerne le
decisioni. La concezione del Senato, simile a quella del coro nella
tragedia greca, ha singolarmente appesantito, imbrogliato, buroctatizzato
e ritardato il pro- gresso spirituale e materiale delle razze.
I legislatori hanno sempre sognato di frenare il pote- re del
Governo. Essi ignoravano dunque che potere si- gnifica frenare. Essi ignaravano
che un Governo è sem- pre più o meno un carabiniere. Nulla di più assurdo
che il porre un carabiniere a sorvegliarne un altro. Mettiamo: gli
al fianco, piuttosto, un sovversivo, un rivoltoso, un eccitante. Ed ecco
nata la concezione dell’Eccitatorio, or- gano animatore, semplificatore e
acceleratore, che in una razza come la nostta, piena di precoci geniali,
sarà Ja mi- glior difesa della gioventù e la migliore garanzia del
pro- gresso e di alta spiritualità. Io sogno in Italia un Gover- no
di tecnici eccitato da un’assemblea di giovanissimi, al posto
dell’attuale Parlamento di oratori incompetenti € di dotti invalidi, che
si fa moderare da un Senato di mo- ribondi. Il Consiglio
tecnico che rimpiazzerà il Senato dovrà dunque essere composto di
giovanissimi, non ancora tren. 103 tenni. Insisto su
ciò, poiché in Italia si usa invitare i gio- vani al potere e si
considera poi virile e giovanissimo un uomo di 55 anni. Salandra grida:
Avanti i giovani! Ma tutti con lui temono i giovani, mettono in
quarantena un quarantenne come un coleroso, un cinquantenne come un
dinamitardo, e considerano un sessantenne come un au- dace quasi maturo
per il governo d’Italia!.. Occorre un Eccitatorio di giovanissimi,
per evitare un Consiglio tecnico di vecchi, che dopo aver tenuto
inuti- lizzato per molto rempo il loro ingegno tecnico non san- no
più che tecnicamente morire. La vita italiana si riduce ancora ad
una convivenza cretina di quadri d'antenati senza autorità e senza
presti- gio, che spandono intorno, in una penombra tediosa, pes-
simisino, pedantismo, austerità professorale, verbalismo pa- triottico e
polvere di Roma antica, e in mezzo ai quali si aggira sporca, taccagna,
provinciale, brindellona, la ser- vaccia che fa tutto male, tiene
malissimo la casa, non vuo! migliorare nulla, perde la giornata a
verificare i con- ti di cucina, ha sempre paura di spendere e di
rovinarsi, ed è tronfia perché sa fare una minestra non troppo sa-
lata che costa poco. T quadri d’antenati si chiamano Boselli e
Salandra: la servaccia si chiama Giolitti o Nitti. (Quazione)
Contro i quadri d'antenati e la servaccia, poi propo siamo un
eccitatorio di studenti e di Arditi futuristi. Arditismo. — Scuole
di coraggio fisico e patriottismo. Una terza lacuna io trovo nel
programma dei Fasci di combattimento, e riguarda la scuola. L'amico
futuri sta Fabbri ha precisato genialmente la grande e necessa ria
riforma completa della scuola. To credo petò che tutto si potrebbe
ottenere, e forse anche un al di là meraviglioso che superi il tutto
sogna. ta, mediante un'imposizione assolutamente ferrea, dirò
meglio feroce, della ginnastica nelle scuole. Si deve giungere
anche presto, oltre che a tutte le for- me d'insegnamento pratico e
tecnico, nelle officine e nei 104 campi, alle scuole
viaggianti, 0, per meglio dire, viaggi d'istruzione, e a dei veri corsi o
scuole di coraggio fisico e di patriottismo. Bisogna ogni
giorno, nella giocondità di una vita al- l'aria aperta, con un predominio
assoluto del giuoco sul- la lettura, parlare dell'Italia divina ai
ragazzi italiani, in- segnare loro, accanitamente, il coraggio fisico e
il disprez- zo del pericolo, e premiare dovunque l'audacia
temeraria e l'eroismo. Le scuole di coraggio fisico e di
patriottismo devono rimpiazzare nelle scuole gli oramai preistorici e
troglodi. tici corsi di greco e di latino. Noi futuristi
siamo convinti di preparare così quel tipo di cittadino eroico che saprà
difendersi da sè, vera- mente capace di libero pensiero e di libero
cazzotto, e che renderà assolutamente inutile l'esistenza delle
polizie, delle questure. dei carabinieri e dei preti.
Ferruccio Vecchi. Il mio amico futurista Mario Carli, capitano
degli Ar- diti, e il capitano Vecchi, capi dell'Associazione degli
Ar- diti, hanno sentito come me, nascere dal futurismo e dal- la
guerra, l'Arditiswo, nuova sensibilità di patriottismo e- roico e
rivoluzionario. ]l giornale L'Ardito, diretto dal capitano Vecchi, il
celebre sfasciatore dell’Avanti! è un forte giornale che si deve
consigliare ai giovani italiani. {Qvazioni) Verrà forse un
giorno in cui avremo in Italia quelle scuole di pericoli che io proponevo
dieci anni fa nei pri- mi manifesti futuristi e che furopo realizzate
durante la guerra nelle esercitazioni quotidiane degli Arditi
(avanza- ta carponi sotto un tiro radente di mitragliatrici;
aspetta- re senza chiudere gli occhi il passaggio radente di una
trave sospesa sulla testa, ecc.). Il proletariato der geniali Ed
ora voglio colmare un'altra lacuna dei program- ma, parlandovi del solo
proletariato veramente dimenticato ed oppresso: l'importantissimo proletariato
dei ge- niali. E’ indiscutibile che Ia nostra razza supera tutte
Je raz- ze per il numero stragrande di geniali che produce. Nel più
piccolo nucleo italiano, nel più piccolo villaggio, vi sono sempre sette,
otto giovani ventenni che, fremono d’ansia creatrice, pieni di un
orgoglio ambizioso che si manifesta in volumi inediti di versi e in scoppi
di elo- quenza sulle piazze, nei comizi politici. Alcuni sono dei
veri illusi, ma sono pochi. Non potrebbero giungere al vero ingegno. Sono
però sempre dei temperamenti a fon- do geniale, cioè suscettibili di
sviluppo e utilizzabili per accrescere l’intellettualità geniale di un
paese. Il movimento artistico futurista, da noi iniziato 11
anni fa, aveva precisamente per scopo di svecchiare bru- talmente
l'ambiente artistico-letterario, esautorarne e di- struggerne la
gerontocrazia, svalutare i criteri e i profes- sori pedanti, incoraggiare
tutti gli slanci temerari dell’in- gegno giovanile, per preparare una
atmosfera veramente ossigenata di salute, incoraggiamento ed aiuto a
tutti i giovani geniali d'Italia. Incoraggiarli tutti,
centuplicarne l'orgoglio, aprire davanti a loro tutti i varchi,
diminuire al più presto, così, il numero dei geniali italiani
falliti e stroncati. Il futurismo radunò molti di questi
giovani geniali. Fra di loro, nella vampa futurista, ingigantirono e
brilla rono: Boccioni, Russolo, Buzzi, Balla, Mazza, Sant'Elia,
Pratella, Folgore, Cangiullo, Mario Carli, Funi, Sironi, Chiti, Jannelli,
Nannetti, Cantarelli, Rosai, Baldassari, Gal- li, Depero, Dudreville,
Primo Conti, i geniali creatori del Teatro Sintetico: Bruno Corra e
Settimelli, e i valorosi scrittori futuristi di Roma futurista, Rocca,
Bottai, Fede- rico Pinna, Volt e Rolzon, altissima bandiera
d'’italianità in America. Con meravigliosa elasticità
passando dall'arte all’azio- ne politica, questi giovani furono con me
dovunque nelle nostre primissime dimostrazioni contro l’Austria durante
la battaglia della Marna, in prigione per interventismo e sui campi di
battaglia. Propongo che in ogni città siano costtuiti dei palazzi
che avranno una denominazione sul genere di questa: Mostra libera
dell'ingegno creatore. Tn tali palazzi: 1° Verrà esposta per un
mese un’opera di pittura, scultura, plastica in genere, disegni di
architettura, dise- gni di macchine, progetti di invenzioni. Verrà
eseguita un’opera musicale, piccola o gran- de, orchestrale o pianistica
di qualsiasi genere, di qual: siasi forma, di qualsiasi dimensione.
3" Verranno letti, esposti, declamati poemi, prose, scritti
di scienza di ogni genere, d'ogni forma, d'ogni di- mensione.
4° Tutti i cittadini avranno diritto di esporre gratui-
tamente. Le opere di qualsiasi genere o valore apparente anche se
apparentemente giudicate assurde, cretine, pazze, immorali, saranno
esposte o lette senza giuria. Con queste mostre libere e gratuite
del genio creatore, noi futuristi ci opponiamo a un pericolo gravissimo:
quel lo di vedere nella marea delle ideologie che rissano intor- ne
alle formole del comunismo e della dittatura del pro- lerariato, il naufragio
dello spirito. Difendiamo il cervello! Vi sono
fenomeni dovuti alla stanchezza prodotta dal la guerra, alla manîa
plagiaria, alla miopia provinciale, alla verbosità giornalistica e alla
vigliaccheria conservatrice. Si tenta dovunque di divinizzare il
lavoratore manuale e d'innalzarlo al di sopra del lavoratore
intellettuale, No, italiani: il futurismo politico si opporrà
accanita. mente ad ogni volontà di livellamento. Tutto, tutto sia
107 concesso al proletariato manuale, salvo il sacrificio
dello spirito, del genio, della gran luce che guida. Alle classi
oppresse, ai lavoratori che stentano, sia sacrificata tutta la
plutocrazia parassitaria del mondo. Voi fascisti interventisti
sapete che la nostra grande guerra rivoluzionaria è stata osata, voluta,
imposta e te- nacemente portata alla vittoria finale da una
minoranza di intellettuali. Erano i migliori, i meno tradizionali,
i più futuristi. Mentre tutto il popolo era ancora immerso nella
quiete pacifista, essi videro la necessità di guerra, si separarono
brutalmente da altri intellettuali, da quelli che dello spirito altro non
hanno che le qualità negative, pedantesche, culturali, reazionatie,
quietiste. Contro e so: pra il piombo del vecchio intelletrualismo
professorale e vigliacco dei Benedetto Croce e dei Barzellotti, contro
l’in- tellettualismo cavilloso e avvocatesco dei Treves e dei Tu-
rati, si scagliarono gli spiriti veramente puri, lirici e crea- tori, per
segnare la via da seguire. Fra questi, Gabriele D'Annunzio, che
volò su Vienna e regalò Fiume all'Italia. Fra questi Benito Mussolini,
il grande Fututista italiano, che impavido nel campo trince- rato
del suo Popolo d’Italia ha difeso alle spalle noi com- battenti al fronte
contro le ondate dei nemici interni, por- tando le città italiane dal
lurido episodio di Caporetto alla storia ideale di Vittorio Veneto
(Applausi). Gli artisti faranno finalmente del governo un’arie
di- sinteressata, al posto di quello che è ora, cioè una pedan- tesca
scienza del furto e della vigliaccheria. eri Io credo
che le istituzioni parlamentari siano fatalmen- re destinate a perire.
Credo anche che la politica italiana sia destinata a un inevitabile
fallimento, se non si nutrirà di questa forza viva: gl’ingegneri creatori
d’Italia, sbaraz- zandosi di queste due malattie italiane: l'avvocato e
il professore. Genio creatore, elasticità artistica,
praticità sintetica, velocità improvvisatrice ed entusiasmo fulmineo:
ecco le belle forze che spiegano la vittoria del 15 giugno sul Pia-
ve e quella di Vittorio Veneto (Applausi). Artisticamente
improvvisando tutto, e con genio crea- tore, la mia bella autoblindata
dell'ottava Squadriglia al comando del capitano Raby guadava come una
torpedi- niera i torrenti gontiati. Poi si slanciava giù dalle
monta. gne carniche col tuffo frenetico fulmineo di un pugnale
d'Ardito nella smisurata pancia idropica dell'esercito au- striaco
disfatto, e schizzava fuori dalla schiera contro Vienna.
Artisticamente, il genio creatore di D'Annunzio con- quistò Fiume
italiana. In Fiume italiana, io provai recentemente il più
acu- to spasimo di guida della mia vita, nel gualcire un pacco di
corone austriache deprezzate a pochi centesimi dalla no- stra
vittoria. Gioia forsennata di stritolare così finalmente il
cuore finanziario, militare, passatista del nemico ereditario, fra
le mie mani ancora frementi della vibrazione della mia mitragliatrice di
Vittorio Veneto! (Ovazione). MARINETTI [da: L’Ardito, MARINETTI
MARIO CARLI MINO SOMENZI « SECONDO FUTURISMO » E
FASCISMO-REGIME ll 1923 è un po' l'anno di apertura del
futurismo — dopo la ritirata e il distacco dal fascismo del II
Congresso di Milano — al nascente fascismo-regime (se- condo la
definizione di De Felice), quello dell’assesta- mento o dell'e ordine»
(che si consoliderà il 3 gen naio 1925). Marinetti si accosta in un certo
senso al nuovo governo con una richiesta in forma di « mani festo
al Governo Fascista» del 1° maggio 1923. Col manifesto e con
l'affermazione di un certo qual futurismo «mussoliniano », 0 nel
sottolineare la rea- lizzazione di un « programma minimo » futurista da
par- te del fascismo, Marinetti cerca di porsi in buona luce
e di far accettare le sue proposte al governo fascista. ll programma fu
in linea di massima approvato da Mussolini. Quel Mussolini che comincerà
a venir illu- strato e celebrato anche dai futuristi, forse molte
volte in buona fede per l'effettiva sua vicinanza alle tesi ed al
dinamismo tipico di Marinetti e delle sue teorie. Tuttavia Mario Carli
nel '26 pubblica nel suo li bro Fascisma intransigente wn articolo a suo
tempo se questrato e che risuona echi di « sinistri miraggi ».
S'in- titola Natale senza luce e si riferisce probabilmente al
Natale del ‘21, dopo l'impresa di Fiume cui Carli aveva ben ardentemente
partecipato: si augurava inutilmente il Carli che l'impresa di Mussolini
(la marcia su Roma) continuasse quella breve esplosione innovatrice
della nuova Italia della Vittoria (la marcia su Ronchi). Ma le
«vecchie pance» e le «vecchie barbe» tengono invece «il canzpo della vita
nazionale » e «la manovra parla mentare domina ancora tutto il congegno
di governo ». Marinetti sul numero 9 del 2-11-1932 del « nuo- vo »
Futurismo, esprime aminirazione ed esalta lo spirito rivoluzionario della
Mostra nel decennale della Rivolu- zione (svoltasi a Roma). Intitola
Varticolo Stile futuri- sta e vuole commemorare in certo senso uno stile
degli anni d'oro dello spirito interventista e rivaluzionario da
cui è nato il fascismo, quello così detta « antemarcia ». Nel 1934 al 1°
di febbraio, sul terzo numero di SunWElia, che è secondo titolo di
Futurismo, generoso tuttavia di perticolare spazio cd attenzione at problemi
dell'architettura, Mino Somenzi intitola un suo pezzo a IT Duce e il
futurismo, e vi sostiene la necessità di Mussolini, come capo del
governo, di non essere né futurista né passatista. Per il superiore
equilibrio sulle parti che la sua posizione richiede. Tuttavia le
simpatie di Mussolini non possono non andare ai futuristi, dice
Somenzi, quali novatori e sostenitori dell'arte d'avan- guardia italiana.
In questo sensa i futuristi non possono non guardure a lui come ad un
appoggio e ad un so- stegno, come del resto egli medesima più volte si è
di- mostrato. E qui forse, in questa tesi, vediamo tutta la
posizione ed il carattere del « secondo futurismo ». Ancora sulla stessa
testata del 4 aprile ’34, n. 64. un grande intervento centrale di prima
pagina su Ven- titre marzo futurfascista, mette in rilievo i caratteri
co- muni di futurismo e fascismo, anche quelli per cui molti
fascisti non st identificano con i futuristi ed anzi simmedesimano nel
loro contrario essendo dei « rimor- chiati » che non hanno assorbito lo
spirito diciannovi sta e rivoluzionario delle « origini ». I DIRITTI
ARTISTICI PROPUGNATI DAI FUTURISTI ITALIANI Manifesto al
governo fascista Mio caro Marinetti, approvo cordialmente la
tuu iniziativa per la costituzione di una Banca di Credito
specialmente per gli Artisti. Credo che saprai sor- montare gli eventuali
ostacoli dei soliti misoneisti. Ad ogni modo questa lettera può
servirti di via- tico. Ciao, con amicizia,
MUSSOLINI Vittorio Veneto e l’avvento del Fascismo al potere
co- stituiscono la realizzazione del programma minimo futuri- sta
lanciato (con un programma massimo non ancora rag- giunto) 14 anni or
sono da un gruppo di giovani audaci che si opposero con argomenti
persuasivi all'intera Nazione avvilita da un senilismo e da un
mediocrismo paurosi dello straniero. Questo programma minimo
propugnava l’orgoglio ita- liano, la fiducia illimitata nell’avvenire
degli italiani, la di- struzione dell'impero austroungarico, l’eroismo quotidiano,
l’amore del pericolo, la violenza riabilitata come argomento decisivo, la
glorificazione della guerra sola igiene del mon- do, la religione della
velocità, della novità, dell’ottimismo e dell’originalità, l'avvento dei
giovani al potere contro lo spi- rito parlamentare, burocratico,
accademico e pessimista. La nostra influenza in Italia e nel mondo
è stata ed è enorme. Il Futurismo italiano, tipicamente patriottico,
che ha generato innumerevoli futurismi esteri, non ha nulla a che
fare coi loro atteggiamenti politici, come quello bolsce- vico del
Futurismo russo divenuto arte di Stato. Il Futurismo è un movimento
schiettamente artistico e ideologico. Interviene nelle lotte politiche
soltanto nelle ore di grave pericolo per la Nazione. Fummo primi
fra i primi interventisti; in carcere per interventismo a Milano durante
la Battaglia della Marna; in carcere con Mussolini nel 1919 a Milano per
attentato fascista alla sicurezza dello Stato e organizzazione di
bande armate. Abbiamo creato le prime associazioni degli
Arditi e molti tra i primi Fasci di combattimento. Divinatori
e lontani preparatori della grande Italia di oggi. Noi
futuristi siamo lieti di salutare nel non ancora qua- rantenne Presidente
del Consiglio un meraviglioso rempera- mento futurista. Da
futurista, Mussolini ha parlato così ai giornalisti esteri:
« Noi siamo un popolo giovane che vuole e deve crea re e rifiuta d'essere
un Sindacato di albergatori e di quar- diani di museo. Il nostro passato
artistico è ammirevole. Ma, quanto a me, sarò entrato tutt'al più due
volte in un MIUSCO ». Recentemente Mussolini ha pronunciato
questo discor- so tipicamente futurista: « Il Governo che ho
l'onore di presiedere è Governo di velocità, nel senso che noi abbreviamo
tutto ciò che significa ristagno nella vita nazionale. Una volta la
buro- crazia si addormentava sulle pratiche emarginate. Oggi tut-
to deve procedere con la massima rapidità. Se tutti proce- deremo con
questo ritmo di forza e di volontà e di alle- grezza, supereremo la
crisi, la quale, del resto, è già in parte superata. lo sono lieto di
vedere il risveglio anche di questa Roma che offre lo spettacolo di
officine come questa. lo atfermo che Roma può diventare centro
indu- striale. 1 romani devono essere i primi a disdegnare di
vivere soltanto sulle loro memorie. Il Colosseo, il Foro romano sono
glorie del passato: ma noi dobbiamo costrui- re le glorie del presente e
del domani Noi siamo la gene- razione dei costruttori che col lavoro e
con la disciplina del braccio e intellettuale vogliono raggiungere il
punto estremo, la meta agognata della grandezza della Nazione di
domani, la quale sarà la Nazione di tutti i produttori e non dei
parassiti ». Con Mussolini il Fascismo ha ringiovanito l'Italia.
Spetta a Lui l'aiutarci nel rinnovamento dell’ambiente artistico
ove permangono uomini e cose nefaste. La rivoluzione politica deve
sostenere la rivoluzione artistica, cioè il futurismo e tutte le
avanguardie. DOMANDIAMO: 1° DIFESA DEI GIOVANI
ARTISTI ITALIANI NOVATORI in tutte le manifestazioni artistiche
promos- se dallo Stato, dai Comuni e private. Esempi: a)
Alla Biennale di Venezia furono invitati avanguar- disti e futuristi
stranieri {Archipenko, Kokoschka, Campen- donk), mentre non furono mai
invitati i futuristi italiani (creatori di tutti i futurismi). Bisogna
sradicare questa igno- bile antitalianità sistematica! c) Al
Teatro della Scala {che ha la funzione di rive- lare, glorificandoli, i
nuovi musicisti italiani) si danno ogni anno due opere di Wagner e
nessuna (o quasi nessuna) di giovani italiani. Si preferiscono cantanti
stranieri infe- riori ai nostri, Bisogna sradicare questa ignobile
antitalia- nità sistematica! d) Il Teatro di Siracusa non
può essere riservato alla gloria dei classici greci! Domandiamo che,
alternativamente alle rappresentazioni delle opere classiche, si svolga
un con- corso per un dramma moderno pittoresco adatto all'aria
aperta di un giovane siciliano da premiarsi e incoronarsi so- lennemente
nel teatro stesso. (Proposte Marinetti, Prampo- lini, Jannelli, Nicastro,
Carrozza, Russolo, Mario Carli, De- pero, Cangiullo, Giuseppe Steiner,
Volt, Somenzi, Azari, Matasco, Dottori, Pannaggi, Tato, Caviglioni,
Paladini Ra- citi, Mario Shrapnel, Raimondi, G. Etna,
Sportino-Bona, Cimino, Soggetti, Rognoni, Masnata, Mortari, Piero
Illari, Rizzo, Soldi, Leskovic, Buzzi, Casavola, Clerici, Caprile,
Scirocco), ISTITUTI DI CREDITO ARTISTICO ad esclu- sivo beneficio
degli artisti creatori italiani. Come si aprono delle Banche di
credito a favore delia industria e del commercio, similmente si dovranno
creare 115 appositi Istituti che sovvenzionino
manifestazioni artistiche o Istituti d'arte industriale o anticipino
denaro agli artisti per il loro lavoro (manoscritti, quadri, statue,
ecc.) i loto viaggi di isttuzione o di propaganda. Tali
Istituti di credito potranno avere carattere pri- vato (Società anonime
per azioni) o governativo (enti e fondazioni). Nel primo caso la nascita
di tale Istituto è legata alla maggiore o minore buona volontà e
mumero degli aderenti. Nel secondo caso il capitale necessario sa-
tebbe sicuramente e prontamente realizzabile solo che lo Stato decretasse
un'imposta od una ritenuta anche minima, ma estesissima, sui redditi di
guerra, sui patrimoni, ecc., o mediante una sottoscrizione nazionale ad
iniziativa sta- tale. L'Istituto agirebbe poi come una Banca
per gli artisti, accetterebbe depositi di opere d'arte, e in base alla valuta-
zione reale darebbe sovvenzioni od aprirebbe crediti. L’opera
d’arte giacente costituirebbe un deposito frut- tifero per il depositante
e per l’Istituto stesso che promuo- verebbe iniziative artistiche,
vendite, ecc. Così l'artista e l'opera d’arte sarebbero valorizzati.
Questi Istituti potrebbero intraprendere concessioni di mutui a
favore d’'industrie artistiche e ottenere l’uso di palazzi per adibirli
ad abitazioni di artisti, d’istituzioni arti- stiche od aprirvi
periodiche mostre. (Proposta Prampolini, Marinetti, Russolo, Cangiullo,
Depero, Settimelli, Mario Carli, Buzzi, Matasco). DIFESA
DELL’ITALIANITA'. Italianizzazione obbligatoria immediata degli alberghi
(tutte le diciture, insegne, liste delle vivande, conti, ecc., in lingua
italiana), dei negozi e della corrispondenza commerciale. Mezzi automatici per
propagare la lingua italiana senza spese. (Proposta Marinetti, Russolo,
Buzzi, Folgore, Mario Carli, Settimelli, Depero, Cangiullo, Somenzi,
Mara- sco, Rognoni). B) Italianizzazione della nuova
architettura contro l'uso sistematico di plagiare le architetture
straniere. Cominciare questa italianizzazione in tutti gli edifici
statali, specialmen- te nei paesi redenti. (Proposte Virgilio Marchi,
Depeto, 116 Russolo, Buzzi, Somenzi, Azari, Marasco,
Prampolini, Fol- gore, Volt). C) Italianizzazione
obbligatoria delle edizioni e dei ca- ratteri tipografici. (Proposta
Frassinelli, Rampa-Rossi). ABOLIZIONE DELLE ACCADEMIE (Istituti di
Atte e Scuole professionali). Gli attuali sistemi
d'insegnamento nan corrispondono al- le esigenze estetiche
dell'evoluzione dell’arte attraverso i tempi. L'arte non si insegna. Gli
attuali diplomati non sono né tecnici competenti né artisti.
Abolizione delle Accademie di Belle Arti e Professio- nali senz’altre
sostituzioni. (Proposta Marasco). PROPAGANDA ARTISTICA ITALIANA
ALL'ESTERO mediante un Istituto Nazionale di propaganda ar- tistica
all’estero che tuteli glì interessi artistici ed econo- mici degli
artisti italiani. Questo Istituto dovrà essere diretto da giovani
artisti stimati all’estero e che propugnino con italianità il genio
novatore italiano Avrà commissioni permanenti riguarda ti le varie arti e
uffici di corrispondenza nei principali centri artistici esteri. Agirà
mediante conferenze, concerti, esposizioni e pubblicazioni periodiche di
propaganda. (Pro- posta Prampolini, Russolo, Buzzi, Volt,
Marasco). CONCORSI LIBERI D'ARTE. Utilizzare una parte del
denaro che lo Stato spende attualmente per l'arte in concorsi di poesia,
plastica, ar- chitettura, musica, riservati ai giovani non ancora
venti- cinquenni, da premiarsi mediante un referendum popo- lare.
(Proposta Balla, Marinetti, Marasco). AFFIDARE L'ORGANIZZAZIONE DELLE
FE. STE NAZIONALI E COMUNALI (cortei, gare sportive, ecc.) ai
gruppi d’artisti d'avanguardia italiani, i quali han- no ormai provato in
modo incontestabile la loro genialità innovatrice, fonte di
quell’ottimismo che è indispensabi- le alla salute della Patria.
(Proposta Depero, Azari, Mari- netti, Marasco). AGEVOLAZIONI AGLI
ARTISTI. Riconoscimento legale da parte del Governo dei diritti
d'autore per gli artisti delle arti plastiche, sul mag- gior prezzo
raggiunto dalle opere loro, attraverso le ven- dite successive, mediante
una istituzione simile alla « So- cietà degli Autori ». d)
Abolizione delle tariffe doganali internazionali sia riguardo le
importazioni che le esportazioni delle opere d’arte moderna. (Proposta
Prampolini, Depero, Azari, Ma- rasco, Marinetti, Volt). 9°
CONSIGLI TECNICI CONSULTIVI formati da artisti ed eletti fra artisti con
una rappresentanza propor- zionale delle tendenze d'avanguardia. Questi
Consigli Tec- nici consultivi avranno lo scopo di tutelare gl’interessi
de- gli artisti nei rapporti con le istituzioni statali, comunali,
private e gli artisti stessi. {Proposta Prampolini, Mara- sco, Marinetti,
Volt) RAPPRESENTANZA PROPORZIONALE. Le avanguardie
artistiche italiane dovranno essere in- vitate a partecipare con una rappresentanza
proporzionale a tutte le manifestazioni e cariche artistiche statali,
co- munali e private. (Proposta Prampolini, Marasco, Marinet- ti,
Volt). CONSORZIO INTERNAZIONALE per la tute. la degli interessi
artistici ed economici degli artisti d'avan- guardia. Questo Consorzio
dovrebbe proporsi l’accentra- mento delle migliori istituzioni artistiche
di avanguardia, per la solidarietà, la difesa e la propaganda artistica
ed economica. (Proposta Prampolini, Marasco, Marinetti,
Volt). Per la Direzione del Movimento Futurista e per tutti i
Gruppi Futuristi ltaliani MARINETTI NATALE SENZA
LUCE sequestrato). Chi fu legionario di Fiume non potrà mai
dimenti- care le rosse giornate natalizie di quattro anni fa, con
le quali si conchiudeva tragicamente e desolatamente una breve ma non
ingloriosa epopea. Il ricordo ha poi un valore particolare per chi lo
avvicini al pensiero della situazione politica odierna, che ha qualche
vaga analogia con quella che segnò la fine di un generoso sforzo
della nuova Italia. Il sangue fraterno di quelle Cinque
Giornate non è stato ben vendicato. Pareva a molti di noi che la
Marcia su Roma dovesse continuare quella di Ronchi per dare alla
nostra grande Patria una nuova fisionomia di po- tenza e per vivificarla
di un nuovo afflusso di giovi- nezza. Ma la spinta rinnovatrice della
generazione di Vit- torio Veneto si è, ahimé, fiaccata nel labirinto
delle vec- chie pance e vecchie barbe che tengono tuttora il campo
della vita nazionale. E sul tempo d’arresto che oggi fa segnare il passo
alle orgogliose avanguardie d'impero, la sagoma «immortale » del cavalier
Giolitti si profila — come quattro anni fa — a rassicurare il mondo che
l’Ita- lia è ancora quella mediocre, umile nazioncella di molte
chiacchiere innacue ma di pochi fatti pericolosi, e che agni tentativo di
virilizzarsi e impennarsi in alati eroismi, è destinato al più pietaso
insuccesso. Sembra — a ben considerare i più recenti
avvenimen- ti — che il sogno di una politica più alta, più rettilinea,
più forte, sia una morbosa fantasia di cervelli malati; e che una sola
specie di politica sia possibile: quella che ha nome Giolitti. Vale a
dire: quella basata sull’intrigo, sul compromesso, sulla pattuizione,
sull’arte di farsi ricat- tare. La manovra parlamentare
domina ancora tutto il con- gegno di governo. E’ pacifico che non si
governa coi parlamenti, poiché essi sono l’antigoverno per
eccellenza: ma è altrettanto pacifico che questo popolo italiano
119 rabbiosamente ingovernabile non vuol rinunciare al suo
bravo Parlamento, fonte di ogni male, serbatoio di ogni decadenza.
Contro questa massima cloaca nazionale (parlo, s’in- tende,
dell'Istituto, non degli uomini) il Fascismo è an- dato a impantanarsi
pazzescamente. Il Fascismo ha com- messo questo gravissimo errote
iniziale: di non saltare a pié pari il Parlamento. Viceversa vi si è
sentito attratto, ha voluto saggiarne le delizie, ha voluto conquistare
que- sta quota a colpi di scheda — mortificando la sua anima
guerriera — quando avrebbe dovuto farla saltare a colpi di bomba. E certi
errori sono troppo gravi perché non si debbano scontare.
Tuttavia, non si potrà negare a noi irriducibili anti- parlamentari, a
noi rimasti fuori dell'aula per volontà pre- meditata, e quindi immuni da
interessi e da schiavitù elettorali, it diritto di tener fede ai principi
per quali s'ini- ziò la battaglia, e soprattutto alla nostra accesa
spiritua- lità di italiani #4ovi: nuovi nella mente, nel tempera-
mento, nell’educazione, nella passione. Anche se tutto crollasse attorno
a noi, e il nostro sogno trilustre, perse- guita con appassionata
tensione di nervi e di cervello, do- vesse ridursi in polvere di macerie,
noi non rinunzierem- mo ad essere quelli che fummo e che siamo: cittadini
di una Patria più grande, più eroica, più possente, più do-
minatrice. Mai non rinunceremo — lo sappiano bene i nostri
nemici — alla nostra sete d’impero, alla nostra fiamma di grandezza, che
odia la vita democratica, l’egualitarismo ipocrita, il pietismo
umanitario, l’eunuco calamento di bra- che. A noi conviene la formula
maschia di Silla, che per disciplinare la repubblica in dissoluzione e
prepararla all'impero, chiedeva tutti i poteri, il controllo sui
tribu- nali civili e militari, la giurisdizione eccezionale, la
legi- siazione di gabinetto da sovrapporre a tutte le leggi ante-
riori, il diritto di battere moneta, di convocare il popolo, di
sospendere e punire i funzionari dello Stato, e infine, di mettere fuori
della legge i cattivi cittadini. A noi piace infinitamente Ja salutare
ferocia di questo Dittatore-mo 120 dello, che, mentre
il Senato discute se conferirgli o no la potestà dittatoria, fa giungere
nell'aula il fiero ululato dei seimila prigionieri di Porta Collina,
sgozzati al suo segnale, e che incide sulla tabella i nomi dei
Senatori vetanti contro di lui, per ricordarsene a tempo e luogo.
Il Fascismo è venuto al potere più attraverso la spa da di Silla
che l’oratoria di Cicerone. Perché dimenti- carsene? II Fascismo non ha
nulla da sperare da una sua politica di debolezza conciliatrice. I suoi
nemici lo vogliono polverizzato e disperso, e tale lo avranno se si
continuerà a ceder loro in ogni occasione. Dal 10 giugno in poi, si può
dire che l’Italia è stata governata dall'om- bra dell’Aventino. Tutto
questo è contro natura, contro storia, contro giustizia. Non sono le
ombre che possano aver diritto al comando, bensì le energie luminose.
Quan- do ci scrolleremo di dosso tutte le ombre importune che ci
soffocano come ali di corvacci e di vampiri? Mario CARLI
[da: Fascismo intransigente, Bemporad, Firenze 1926, pag. 253-256]
Con la Mostra della Rivoluzione si risolve finalmente, e in modo
favorevole, il grave problema della militariz- zazione della fantasia
creatrice mediante temi fissi da im- porre agli artisti.
Molti fra i pittori, scultori e architetti, invitati a rea- lizzare
questa Mostra grandiosa, furono indubbiamente turbati dal prestigio di
queste gloriose parole che domi- nano ormai nella nuova storia d’Italia:
interventismo, Vit- torio Veneto, Mussolini, e Popolo d'Italia,
Diciannove, battaglia di via Mercanti e incendio dell’Avanti!, covo
di via Paolo da Cannobio, Casa Rossa, Lodi, Palazzo Accur- sio,
Marcia su Roma. Legati tradizionalmente ai noti motivi idilliaci
cittadi- nì o rurali, tramonti melanconici e ritratti statici, que-
sti artisti sentirono subito la necessità di capovolgere il loro spirito
per disegnare nell'aria un tuffo perfetto nel mare della novità.
Da tempo il Futurismo italiano, con il suo seguito di avanguardie
estere più o meno originali, gridava per in- segnare l'invenzione a ogni
costo. Quattro mesi fa il Du- ce, con la sua bella parola imperiosa e
veloce, ordinò che si evitasse il passatismo della palandrana di Giolitti.
Suggestionati poi dal dinamismo aggressivo colorato e tragico della
Rivoluzione, essi abbandonarono la loro sta- ticità e la classicità
placida. Gli architetti incaricati di dare una faccia nuova al vecchio e
brutto Palazzo dell’Esposi- zione, sentirono l’assurdità di qualsiasi
decorativismo sim- bolico, floreale, mitologico o grazioso.
Le loro prime linee gettate sulla carta, rizzandosi ascen-
sionalmente, presero lo slancio aggressivo, guerriero e mi- naccioso di
altissime torri di acciaio o ciminiere naviganti. A me ricordano
simpaticamente i geniali fasci di ascen- sori dell'architettura di
Antonio Sant'Elia, il grande e com- pianto padre futurista
dell’architettura moderna. Logicamente andò determinandosi lo
stile della Mostra per virtù della Rivoluzione e del suo ritmo mobile
ag- gressivo. Si ricorda l’intero profilo d’uno squadrista. Un
dettaglio basta. Di quell’autocarro schiacciato dal peso dei fascisti
come un tino stracarico di giganteschi grappo- li neri io ricordo
soltanto il mosto rosso a terra e l’acu- tissimo odore di benzina. Quindi
sintesi, dinamismo e in- tersecazioni di piani. Visibilità aggressività
giocondità. Questa Mostra della Rivoluzione, che tutti gli
squadristi augurano non effimera ma duratura, stabilisce la gloria del
Fascismo con uno stile rivoluzionario italiano che ha avuto pet primi
maestri Sant'Elia e Boccioni. E’, secondo le parole di Edmondo Rossoni
dettemi questa mattina, il trionfo dell’arte futurista. F.T
MARINETTI [du: Fuiuriszo, Nel fervore della polemica pro e contro il
Futurismo molti si chiedono: come la pensa il Duce? A questo in
terrogativo i nostri avversari rispondono arbitrariamente come saremmo
ugualmente arbitrari noi volendo asserire l'opposto di ciò che loro
affermano. Per la verità il Duce non può essere dall’una o dall’altra
parte (passatismo © futurismo) ma nella sua specifica qualità di Capo
della Nazione non può essere passatista e futurista nello stesso
tempo. Che Egli prediliga come certuni pretendono cor- renti intermedie
lo esclude il suo temperamento nemico di tutti gli oscillamenti e di ogni
mezzo termine. Prefe- risce le posizioni diritte anche le più azzardate e
non è detto quindi che si compiaccia trattenersi ad ammirare le
varie denominazioni che si dànno alla strada nel corso di così lungo e
complicato cammino com'è quello dell'arte. Egli tende alla meta: L’arte
fine a se stessa. Passatismo e Futurismo: due colossi che se non
esistessero Musso- lini li avrebbe creati apposta non fosse altro, per }a
gioia patriottica di vedere scaturire dal cozzo di queste mentalità
opposte, nuove faville di luminosa genialità italiana. I piccoli mondi
che rotolano ai margini di questa battaglia sono frammenti o scorie
staccatesi, nell’urto, dal corpo dei titani: hanno una vita effimera e
quelli che precipitan- do come valanghe trascinano nella loro scia deboli
detriti superficiali, se sopravvivono, sono sempre alimentati dal-
l'atmosfera incandescente generosa che emana il corpo che li ha creati.
Passatismo e Futurismo rimangono inamo- vibili l'uno di fronte all'altro:
impossibile conciliare il concetto conservatore tradizionale del primo
col principio rivoluzionario rinnovatore del secondo. Chi sia il più
forte non è facile stabilite: dipende da determinate condizioni
intellettuali e spirituali di tempo. Oggi però — in que- sto secolo
fascista — più che le biblioteche e i musei si moltiplicano scuole
avanguardiste, impressioniste, raziona- liste, novecentisie, moderniste
in genere, tutte volenti o nolenti generate dal futurismo. Volenti o
nolenti: non ha 123 valore il fatto che molti
sconfessano la loto origine. E' fatale; anzi vorremmo dire storico.
Probabilmente tra cin- quant’anni il mondo fascistizzato considererà
Mussolini un utopista e ogni nazione vanterà il merito di avere
instau- rato per prima il nuovo regime politico. Di queste infa-
mie la storia è... maestra; solo dopo qualche secolo si rende giustizia
alla verità. Tornando al nostro argomento, è fuori dubbio che Mussolini,
valotizzatore delle gloriose conquiste del passato, sprona i capaci a
superarle sul tra- guardo del più fulgido domani. Quindi il futurismo
rap- presenta infatti quell’eroica generosa pattuglia d’assalto che
trascina l’esercito degli artisti alla conquista del nuo- vo. Questo
fatto in sé eloquente e inconfondibile, unico nella storia dell’arte, ha
rapporti precisi in campo poli- tico con la gloriosa epopea mussoliniana.
L'inesauribile ottimismo futurista si identifica così con il concetto gene-
roso originale ardito del fascismo vittorioso. Senza citare fatti e
particolari di cui sono ricchi i nostri ricordi per- sonali, in tema «
Mussolini e il futurismo » basterà ri- cordare giacché l'occasione è
opportuna queste tre date significative: Boccioni vi avrà detto che
tutte le mie simpatie sono, anche nel dominio dell’arte, per i novatori e
i distruttori e per i futuristi... » Mussolini. 1924: «... presente
adunata futu- rista che sintetizza vent'anni di grandi battaglie
artistiche politiche spesso consacrate col sangue. Congresso deve
essere punto di partenza non punto d'artivo... » Mussolini. ...Dopo di avere
concesso il suo alto patronato per le onoranze nazionali al futurista Boccioni, Mussolini offre il PRIMO generoso
contributo ma- teriale per il trionfo della grande rassegna dell’arte
futu- rista italiana. A questo punto, dopo quanto abbiamo
detto, ulteriori considerazioni sono superflue come sarebbe superfluo
ri- cordare ancora una volta l'influenza patriottica esercitata dal
futurismo sulla gioventù italiana prima durante e dopo la guerra e il
fattivo isolato contributo dei futuristi al fascismo nel 1919
(...). Mino SOMENZ2I (da: Sant'Elia, n. 3, anno II, 1°
febbraio 1934] Allorché quindici anni or sono, nel palazzo di
Piazza San Sepolcro, Mussolini gettò le fondamenta di quello
edificio colossale che doveva essere il Fascismo, se nel manipolo degli
intervenuti individuò degli artisti, questi erano soltanto ed
esclusivamente artisti futuristi. Appena creati i Fasci di
combattimento, i primi gruppi che cotseto ad ingrossare le schiere che
cominciavano a formarsi furono i gruppi politici futuristi, prima, e
gli arditi di guerra e i legionari fiumani, poi, sempre per me-
rito esclusivo dei futuristi. Il nostro Movimento diede quindi al
Fascismo un apporto qualitativo e un apporto quantitativo: inoltre
die- de alla creazione mussoliniana un conttibuto gigantesco di
fede cieca, di entusiasmo eroico. Vogliamo indagare il perché di
questa spontanea sim- patia, di questo irresistibile trasporto del
Futurismo verso il Fascismo; il perché della meravigliosa, totalitaria
cor- rispondenza fra una cemcezione eminentemente politica ed una
concezione eminentemente artistica? Prima di tutto, troviamo che
il Fascismo e il Futu- rismo hanno alla loro origine dei germi comuni:
l’amore disperato alla propria terra, la necessità di moto e di
azione. Dell’intervento nella grande guerra uno fece il punto di partenza
per la sognata rivalorizzazione della patria; l’altro, lo sbocco
conclusivo di quei fatti e di quel- le idee che possono riassumersi nei
tre principii futuristi: « Tutti 1 diritti, meno quello di esser
vigliacchi ». « La parola Italia deve prevalere sulla parola libertà ». «
La puerta, sola igiene del mondo », Dalle piazze affollate
d'Italia si passò alle trincee in- sanguinate d'Italia: interventisti
intervenuti: identico en- tusiasmo: identici sacrifici: identica volontà
di far ger- mogliare il bene della Patria dal martirio e dalla
morte dei suoi figli. E questa è già molto per dimostrare la
straordinaria 125 affinità sentimentale, di origine e
di scopi esistente tra Fascismo e Futurismo. Ma v'è di più.
Infatti, passando dal campo delle con- cezioni teoretiche a quello delle
espressioni pratiche, noi vediamo il Fascismo disdegnoso di adagiarsi nei
ricordi del passato, ansioso di sciogliersi dai vincoli del
presente, protesa con gli spuardi e con tutte le energie alla
conqui- sta del domani. Avanti, avanti sempre, incita il Duce;
raggiunta una mèta, mille altre se ne profilano: occorre raggiungere
anche queste: ogni sosta è un tradimento: ogni indugio è un
delitto. Non sona questi i principii stessi cui s’informa il
Futurismo? E il Futurismo è tutto azione e vita: nelle sue
schie- re accoglie la più bella e sana gioventù d'Italia: gioven-
tù d'anni, ma anche di spiriti. I suoi artisti creano con la stessa
generosità, con lo stesso dispregio di ogni premio e di ogni
riconoscimento, con i quali ! nostri soldati scattavano all’assalto: loro
uni- co orgoglio, lora unica aspirazione è di poter contribuire a
che il nome d’Italia sempre più alto e sonoro e sempre niù in estensione
squilli nel mondo. E non è Fascismo, questa? Ma non è
soltanto ciò quello che ci spiega come, fatto mai verificatosi nella
storia dell'umanità, una concezione esclusivamente morale ed artistica
abbia potuto così bene assorbire ed assorbirsi in una concezione
esclusivamente politica e sociale Il fatto straordinario che
oggi non può non riempirci di legittima se pur meravigliata
soddisfazione, è questo: un colosso della politica che pensa, agisce,
crea, con la ispirazione e la chiaroveggenza luminosa di un poeta:
un poeta che vive la sua arte come una battaglia politica per la
gloria della Patria sua. Né le due espressioni, fino ad oggi antitetiche,
politica e arte, s'urtano o si contrastano: anzi si può ben dire che esse
hanno così informato di sé medesime le due personalità che concepirle in
diversi at- teggiamenti spirituali ci sarebbe impossibile.
Come spiegare questo fatto così nuovo e così fuori 126
del comune, se non riferendoci ad una forza incoerci- bile,
misteriosa, ma che tuttavia sussiste, a quella for- za cioè che crea in
alcuni privilegiati quegli speciali stati d'animo per cui il Genio,
attraverso l'adamantina lumi- nosità di un pensiero superiore,
giganteggia e s’infutura? E’ indubbiamente questa forza contro la
quale noi nulla possiamo che fa di Mussolini un futurista della
stessa tempra di Marinetti e di Marinetti un fascista, de- gno seguace di
Mussolini. E' sempre questa forza che avvicinando i due crea-
tori, avvicina conseguentemente le loro due creature: è perciò che come
non potrebbe comprendersi un futurismo non fascista così non si potrebbe
concepire un fascismo conservatore e passatista. E’ perciò
ancora che i futuristi e i fascisti, se veri ambedue, s’intende, non
possono distinguersi: l’italiano nuovo è un miscuglio — nel valore che la
chimica dì a questa parola — di fascismo e di futurismo: essi
costi- tuiscono i due elementi inscindibili e insostituibili di un
tutto organico. Chi ha detto ai nostri giovani di chiamarsi
/uturfasci- sti? Nessuno: eppure essi, generalmente, così amano de-
finirsi. Inconscio, spontaneo riconoscimento di una gran- de verità che
non può discutersi e non si distrugge. Come altrettanto vero è che
i fascisti autentici sono ottimi futuristi. e non potrebbe essere
diversamente data l'essenza dinamica, generosa, novatrice, ottimista
nella quale il Duce vuole plasmati i nuovi italiani. Ma come
avviene, allora, che anche tra i fascisti sono molti i contrati al
Futurismo? Perché molti sono i rimrorchiati che pur vestendo
in camicia nera e ostentando il distintivo, parlando (e pur- troppo
parlando solo) fascisticamente e mettendosi sem- pre in prima fila nei
cortei, han tuttavia conservato l’ani- ma italiana di anteguerra, pavida,
gretta, piccina. Molti altri poi, pur sentendo nel loro intimo
tutto ciò che di bello e di buono ha il Futurismo, per un sen- so
invincibile di borghesisma, per timore di essere ridicolizzati e per desiderio
di essere tenuti e rispettati quali persone serie, dicono e non dicono,
ammettono e smen- tiscono, concedono e negano, opportunisti rammolliti,
bor- ghesi, vigliacchi. Ma ciò che prima o poi capiterà a
costoro, che noi sentiamo di odiare profondamente, molta ma molto
di più dei nemici nostri aperti e leali, che almeno rispet- tiamo,
lo ha detto chiaramente il Duce nel suo recente magnifico discorso all'Assemblea
quinquennale. Per essi non si tratta né di Fascismo né di Futurismo: si
tratta di vigliaccheria, e basta. Non han diritto neppure a
chiamarsi italiani. Né escludiamo da questa ignominiosa
schiera quei gio- vani d'anni che han conservato intatta l’anima dei bisa-
voli: che gridano doversi l’arte rinnovare e si impuntano come muli
riottosi dinanzi al futurismo: che accettano e sì prosternano ad ogni
novità che ci proviene d'oltre confine, anche se figlia di genitori
futuristi italiani, e fanno i disdegnosi, gl’incontentabili, i
superuomini verso il nostro movimento che gli stranieri stessi ammirano
co- me un’altra delle tante glorie italiane. Anche questi
così detti giovani non possono e non po- tranno mai essere fascisti sul
serio, giacché essi non hanno del Fascismo né compreso né assimilato
quelle ca- ratteristiche di spiccato futurismo che sono il
rinnovamen- to, la velocità, il dinamismo, il continuo superarsi, la
mat cia ininterrotta verso la perenne conquista. E lo stesso
diciamo di quei critici che si fermano a vivisezionare un'opera d’arte,
isolandola dal vasto am- biente donde essa ttae la sua ragione di vita;
che fanno l'anatomia di un nostro artista senza riflettere che esso
è soltanto un membro di un corpo gigantesco. Essi dimo- strano di
aver perduto o di non aver mai posseduto quella somma virtù latina,
fascista e futurista insieme, che è la virtù della sintesi soffocata in
loro dalla fredda pesantez- za anglo-sassone dell’analisi. Ma costoro
sono i compri- matii, le comparse della nostra vita e abbiamo di
già concesso loro troppo onore di discussione. Su tutto e su
tutti restano le idee: nel campo politi 128
co-sociale, l'idea fascista; nel campo artistico-spirituale. l’idea
futurista. Ambedue han detto al loro mondo una parola non an-
corta udita; ambedue hanno tracciato, ognuna nei propri confini, la via
nuova da seguire per giungere alla salvezza: tanto l’una che l’altra si
sono dimostrate possenti dina- mo, generatrici di forza, di fiducia in
noi stessi, dì ottimi- smo. di passione, di entusiasmo.
L'una, nel campo politico, ha raccolto infiniti proseliti ovunque,
e ciò in relazione ai numerosi problemi d’indole contingente di cui ha
trovato o propone le soluzioni; l'al- tra, nel campo più ristretto dell'arte,
ha egualmente susci- tato energie, ridestato gli addormentati, incitato i
pigri, rincuorato i pavidi, persuaso i dubbiosi. Se qui
dovesse attestarsi l’opera vitale sia dell'una che dell'altra idea, già
tutti i diritti esse avrebbero acqui- stati per l'imperitura riconoscenza
della civiltà. Ma ambedue continuano nella loro marcia
ascensio- nale: e i critici che affermano essere il Futurismo supe-
rato ci fan lo stesso effetto di quei pochi e sparuti anti. fascisti che
affermano aver il Fascismo esaurito il suo compito. Idee come
queste nostre non possono né sostare, né esaurirsi, né esser superate: la
loro essenza stessa di con- tinua marcia, di continua ascesa, di continua
conquista non lo permette. Un uomo, a idea, una opera
potranno esser supe- rati: ma non l'Uomo, non l’idea, non l’opera.
Ed ora che conclusione trarremo dalla dimostrata iden- tica
struttura spirituale del Fascismo e del Futurismo, dal- la dimostrata
perfetta corresponsione fra loro di scopi e d’intenti? La
conclusione è la solita: ripetiamo ancora una volta e confermiamo che il
solo artista capace di riprodurre in tutta la sua ampiezza, in tutta la
sua luce e in tutta la sua gloria la vita nuova dell’Italia di Mussolini
è l'artista futurista e che il Futurismo è la sola espressione
d'arte degna e capace di tramandare ai posteti la vitalità, la po-
tenza, la dinamicità dell’éra fascista. Questo diritto che noi accampiamo
ci proviene da quel- l'identità di spirito, di tendenze, di sensibilità
che fa del Fascismo e del Futurismo un unico, perfetto blocco e che
nessuna scuola, nessuna tendenza, nessun'altra forma di arte può
vantare E noi teniama al riconoscimento di questo nostro di-
ritto: non perché ci spingano meschini interessi o poco nobili ambizioni
ma perché, forti di un infinito amore per la patria nostra e di una
dedizione cosciente e completa di tutta la nostra spiritualità alla
sovrumana potenza di un'idea, al fascino gigantesco di un Genio
universale, vo. gliamo che non abbia soste il cammino trionfale che
l’Ita- lia rinnovata sta compiendo verso le sue più alte mète,
sotto il comando romano di Benito Mussolini. FuTURISMO [da
Sant'Elia, n 64, anna III 4 aprile 1934] La polemica accesasi negli Anni
Trenta tra futuristi rivoluzionari e futuristi sostanziali o di destra, è
già espressione di quel «secondo futurismo», che abbia mo visto e
detto essere momento collaterale del fa- scismo-regime. O tentativo
piuttosto di conservare la avanguardia nell'ambito di un sistema che come
tale era più propenso ad un suo ordine intrinseco e im-
prescindibile da mantenere 0 da continuare. In questo senso il futurismo
«di destra», come lo definisce il sansepolcrista Bruno Corra nel marzo
del ‘32 su Fu- turismo, vorrebbe un po’ essere quello degli « arri.
vati », di chi si asside sulle comode poltrone della fine della carriera,
pur cercando di mantenere uno Spirito 4 precedente », giovanile e
innovatore, che non può essere venuto meno in chi ha giù combattuto
e si è esposto per una causa di rinnovamento. Gli fa eco Corrado
Gawvoni riprendendo il discorso e pun- tualizzando il concetto stesso di
futurismo, senza che gli si debba o gli si voglia nulla rubare, come è
staio fatto da tutte le parti, e a riconoscergli invece la sua
portata e i suoi risultati. Solo una settimana dopo ribatte Paolo
Buzzi sul numero del 26 marzo sempre di Futurismo con un violento
attacco ai «futuristi di destra » e il sostegno 4 un ritorno alle estrema
sinistra », come già dice nel titolo. L'’avanguardia, in quanto
avanguardia e se vuol rimanere avanguardia, non può che esercitare
una funzione di vottura per il rinnovamento ed il rivolgi- meuto
del vecchio e del passato. Come tale l'aver guardia non può che essere e
rimanere di « estrema sinistra », sC il futurisito si ritiene ancora
uvangaar dia 0 vuole mantenersi e vivere. Resta però forse una voce
isolata quella del Buzzi, rincalzato ancora il 2 aprile, sul numero della
settimana dopo, da Remo Chiti che postula un futurismo sostanziale in cui
tutto si annulla, destra e sinistra, nel momento stesso in cuni tt
futurismo diviene ercativo e vu libera dvi con- formismi e delle
convenzioni. Ancora «all'Avanguardia » dedicava un quinto ed
ultimo articolo Luciano Folgore, sempre su Futurismo dello stesso anno
(1933). Il futurismo di destra e quello di sinistra st superano oramai
nell'avanguardia che ancora continua e sì muove nell'avanzata
dell'en- tusiasnio. E l'ottintismo continua in effetti fino al’ul-
timo, anche con la fine del fascismo, anche con la morte di Marinetti,
anche con la sconfitta nella guerra « sola igiene del mondo », continua
ancora nelle ulti me gencrazioni e nel messaggio dell'ultimo
manifesto, quello del «futurismo-oggi », che vive e crea nel pre
sente. NOI FUTURISTI DI DESTRA Quando si riunirà in
Roma il primo grande congresso dei futuristi di tutto il mondo, io andrò
a sedermi — vicino a Buzzi, a Notari, a Folgore, a Govoni — ad un
banco dell’estrema destra. Ma esiste dunque, può esiste- te un Futurismo
di destra? I due termini non fanno a pugni? Un movimento rivoluzionario
può contenere in sé tendenze conservative? E, infine, l’espressione «
futuri- sta di destra» non val quanto « futurista annacquato e
prudente » non s'identifica con l’ambigua parola « nove- centista
»? Mi pare che qui si tratti, prima di tutto, di una que-
stione di moralità. Dare al Futurismo quel che al Futuri smo appartiene:
e non truccare il proprio ingegno con una etichetta di convenienza. Chi
si dichiara avanguardista ma non futurista, sputa nel piatto dove ha
mangiato. Poi, io stabilirei questo principio: che il privilegio di poter
restare nella sfera magnetica del Futurismo pure affermando, nel-
la propria opera matura un remperamento realizzatore di destra debba
accordarsi soltanto a coloro che han dimo- strato di saper essere «
integralmente » futuristi. E recla- merei il diritto di sedermi a destra,
per mio conto, in no- me della mia effettiva collaborazione al Futurismo
più ri- voluzionario: Teatro Sintetico; Cinema futurista; e due
opete di audacissima narrazione fututista (La donna ce duta dal cieln —
Sam Dunn è morto). In realtà, fermo restando che l’essenza del
Futurismo è e non può non essere rivoluzionaria, bisogna dire che
nel nostro movimento i termini sinistra e destra non si oppongono,
perdono ciaè il loro significato convenzionale. La mentalità futurista
supera il contrasto fra il sovverti- mento e la conservazione, in quanto
si libera di continuo in uno slancio creativa. Perciò un eventuale
Congresso fu- turista dovrebbe assumere una configurazione non
oriz- zontale ma verticale: fututisti di cima e futuristi di base,
133 aviazione e fanteria. E soltanto per ragioni di comodo,
io qui mi son servito della parola destra. Ma diciamo pure i
fanti, i pontieri, i costruttori di stra- de del Futurismo, e avremo
indicato il carattere e spiega- to la necessità di questo settore nel
nostro movimento: l'aderenza al terreno pratico. Come l'architettura,
come la decorazione, l’arte narrativa adempie a una funzione in
gran parte pratica: da ciò l'obbligo per essa di equili- brarsi tra il
dovere del rinnovamento artistico e l’impe- rativo degli scopi vitali ai
quali la sua natura la destina. Un romanzo illeggibile equivale a una
casa senza finestre per vederci o a una stazione dove i treni non possono
cir- colare. Ora il Futurismo vanta la proptia aderenza al tem- po
attuale anche nel senso della praticità. Le case futuriste vogliono essere
le più comode: la struttura delle città futu- riste mira ad assicurare i
massimi vantaggi alle moltitudi- ni che devono abitarle. Allo stesso modo
il narratore fu- turista ambisce di garbare alle folle dei giovani,
traendone e in esse trasfondendo gli ideali tipici del nostro
tempo, per via di una tecnica intonata alla sensibilità moderna,
tutta nitidezza brevità sintetismo. Va da sé che il buon narratore
futurista dovrà ogni tanto lasciare la sua bisogna terrestre, per
collaudare ed eccitare nell’ebbrezza di un volo lirico la propria tempra
di novatore. Questa nota velo- ce non intende di risolvere l'importante
problema al qua- le si riferisce: ma soltanto di proporre lo studio ai
came- rati futuristi. Bruno CorRrA Sansepolcrista
[da: Futurismo -- Con il suo articolo « Noi futuristi di destra » uscito
nell'ultimo numero di Futurismo, Bruno Corra ha oppor- tunamente aperto
una tempestiva discussione intorno al movimento futurista che, secondo
me, va allargata e approfondita da una serie di perentorie domande —
argo- menti che, investendone in pieno la vita e la vitalità, ri-
chiedono altrettante risposte urgenti e risolutive, Quali sono le
origini e le funzioni del movimento fu- turista in Italia.
Quanti e quali sono i movimenti artistici e letterari succedntisi
in questi ultimi venti anni in Europa, che accusano sinceramente una
netta derivazione dal Futu- rismo. Individuazione dei
movimenti artistici e letterari che rappresentano una deviazione e una contraffazione
del Futurismo e dei movimenti che, o fingendo d’ignorarlo, o
ammettendolo furbescamente solo attraverso la propria attenuazione,
continuano a pompargli generoso sangue e a servirsene di veicolo
sull’allegro esempio della comoda simbiosi di Bernardo l’Eremita.
Quali sono Je vere umane ragioni per cui elementi di primissimo
ordine si dispersero e si distaccarono dal movimento futurista dopo
averne fatto parte, o. dopo aver- ne attraversata l’esperienza (cito
alcuni nomi: Palazzeschi e Carrà; Soffici e Papini). In che
cosa consista e came vada intesa il cosidetto « contenuto polemico » che,
seconda certa critica nostra- na, costituirebbe il peso morto e il punto
d'arresto del Fututismo. Quale fondamento abbia l'accusa
spesso rivolta al Fu- tutismo di essere un movimento difettoso e caduco
per- ché nato senza una dottrina estetica che lo giustifichi.
Espansione influenza e fortune del Futurismo in tut- to il mondo e
suo riconoscimento in Italia. Sono tutte domande che hanno bisogno
per una con- veniente risposta, di lunghe e minuziose trattazioni.
Ed è più che naturale e logica la irresistibile tendenza dei nostri
connazionali a sbarazzarsene con una sola pa- rola. Questa
parola la conosciamo troppo bene: Marinetti! Ma conosciamo troppo bene
anche il grossolano trucco, Si accarezza Marinetti (fino ad
un certo punto, e il più nascostamente che sia possibile: è bene non
compro- mettersi troppo!), per negare poi il Futurismo e massacra-
re i futuristi. Da troppo tempo si pratica ormai l'iniquo
inganno per non sperare che abbia finalmente a fruttare un ri-
sultato vittorioso e definitivo! E’ il trucco indegno tentato dagli
antifascisti contro il fascismo quando si cercava di mettere in mora il
fa- scismo proclamando il Mussolinisma, nell’assurda cana- gliesca
mira di dividerli, per batterli poi con più comada separatamente.
Mussolini anche a quei tempi era trappo Duce per non avvertire la
subdola insidia e sventarla. Marinetti! Chi più di noi l’ha più fedelmente
amato ed ammirato? Per conoscere quali prodigiosi tesori di
amore e di energia egli possieda, bisogna vederlo all'estero.
Bisogna sentire allora con che fuoco egli è capace di affrontare i
pubblici più paurosi per numero e distinzione, più ostili ad ogni cosa
che abbia la nostra impronta di quanto non st creda, e per mentalità, per
gelosia e furore d'inferiorità; bisogna sentirlo dominare a poco a poco
col suo impeto irresistibile gli spiriti o avversi o diffidenti, e,
mentre fa giganteggiare nelle assemblee stipate l’ombra magnani- ma
del Duce, vederlo a trascinarle all’'entusiasmo e co- stringerle a
riconoscere la poesia italiana come una cosa caduta dal cielo: bisogna,
dico, vedere quest'Uomo straor- dinario all’estero, per capire che
instancabile affascinante ambasciatore d'italianità nel mondo noi abbiamo
in lui. Se l’attività di Marinetti presenta una debolezza,
que- sto avviene proprio in casa nostra. E' una debolezza che è
forse il suo più alto titolo di gloria. E ritorneremo sul- l'argomento.
Ma approfitrarsene come troppi fanno, è un mostruo- so
delitto. Che cosa volete allora?, ci domanderà qualche impru-
dente con un sorriso allusivo. No, no, non invidiamo il puzzo di
benzina, state tran- quilli: a questo volevate alludere. Ma troppe volte
ricevia- 136 mo in faccia la cenciata dell'insolente
puzzo di benzina per non sentirci offesi e disgustati nella nostra
rassegnata povertà. La ragione del nostro malcontento è che
da troppo tempo noi andiamo seminando e falciando per quelli che ci
seguono e allegramente raccolgono senza nemmeno ri- volgerci un pensiero
di ringraziamento. Amici cari, se ci fermassimo un po’, se ci
voltassimo un pochino indietro anche noi? Se pensassimo anche noi
di raccogliere un pugno di quelle spighe, da portarcele a casa se non
altro per ricordo e testimonianza della lunga fatica compiuta?
Ma se lasciamo ancora correre un poco, ho paura che ci negheranno
anche questo piccolo premio di consolazio- ne; e se ci destineranno un
posto {bontà loro!), questo non sarà che per il museo, tra le mummie di
coloro che st prodigarono e sactificarono per una fede e un ideale
e che Alfredo Panzini già propose di raggruppate in una sola classifica
con la denominazione di collezione di fessi... CorRrADO
GovonI [da: Futwrismo, ESTREMA
SINISTRA E non vorrei altro aggiungere. Le distinzioni, «i
pun- ti fermi», Îe categorie anagrafiche non contano. Si sa che,
per taluni, l'età del « destino » futurista è passata da un pezzo. Pure,
quando la febbre della creazione non è discesa e, soprattutto, quando il
traguardo tremendamente astrale della proptia Opera non è raggiunto, ci
si sente, ogni mattina, l'età — magari — di Vittoria, di Ala e di
Luce Marinetti...! Questo, e non altro, è il vero futurismo. Perché
dovrei sedermi a destra, proprio io? Mi sembre- rebbe di tradire la causa
di « Aeroplani », di « Ellisse € la Spirale », di « Cavalcata delle
vertigini », di « Popolo canta così! » di « Dannazioni » e di tutto il
mio Teatro inedito, ma ultra violetto, che ha forse, a suo tempo,
spa- ventato anche i genii scenici sovversivi di Petrolini e di
Bragaglia. Soprattutto, mi sembrerebbe di tradite le mie
Opere fantasticamente audaci di domani: « Beatitudini »
(affret- tati mio caro Campitelli: perché l'aeroplano-razzo deve
partire per le stelle!). « Canto quotidiano », dove vedrete il Poema
attimistico del 1932 (la « Prora », lo sta stam- pando); e «Nostra
Signora degli Abissi »: dove, fina] mente, la Motte sarà vinta e le onde
cosmiche impaste- ranno da pari loro la nuova genesi delle radiazioni
inter- planetari. Questo è futurismo: e di ultra estrema
sinistra. Le mie anatomie sintetiche di anime e di sensi, le
mie aeropitture di tipi e di paesaggi, i miei cosmapolitismi spa-
ziali e i miei intimismi vorticosi stanno per una intransi- genza etico
estetica che costituisce, ormai, la gioia (ed, un pochino, anche la
gloria) della mia lunga carriera di uomo che ha sempre fatto dell'Arte
come il sacerdote celebra messa. Aviatore sempre, adunque: fante e
stradino, non mai. Lo so che i miei romanzi (appunto perché sempre
ed esclusivamente poemi) non hanno trovato che editori san- ti,
martiri ed eroi. Ma anche questo è un segno nobile del- le cose e degli
uomini e degli eventi. In quanto alle mie opere di Poesia pura, ho avuto
la soddisfazione recente di trovarmele analizzate e comprese e discusse
ed evidente- mente — quindi — amate da una Rivista di giovanissime
menti e di ardentissimi cuori: dico, la « Penna dei Ragaz- zi » diretta
da Vittorio Mussolini, edita in Roma. I giovani, quelli veramente
degni di questo nome pri- maverile, sanno che, al di fuori e al di sopra
d’ogni inevi- tabile chiasso letterario, la parola « futurismo »
risponde alla solo unica vera «idea forza» che oggi esista nella
sfera ideale del Mondo: e che è in grazia di essa, unica- mente di essa,
se oggi la Poesia della miracolosa Italia fascista vive e vivrà.
Naturalmente io dico ai giovani, anche e specie se 138
coronati dal casco d'alluminio in pieno cielo: « lavorate » non
accontentatevi di quattro parole intonate all’onoma- topea del motore: la
Poesia italiana ha ben altri diritti ed impone ben altri doveri! guardate
dalle finestre di Palazzo Venezia, la Via dell'Impero! e cantate i nuovi
« Carmi de- gli Augusti e dei Consolari », se ne siete capaci! Il
Duce vi premierà. PaoLo BUZZI [da: Futurismo, FUTURISMO SOSTANZIALE « Non c’è
che un futurismo: quello di estrema si- nistra », ha affermato Paolo
Buzzi. Ma questa generosa intransigenza che parrebbe volere ammettere un
unico modo di manifestarsi — contro la premessa di Bruno Cor- ra
circa il riconoscimento o meno d'un futurismo di destra « aderente al
terreno pratico » — rimane una questione poetica e individuale di fronte
agli argomenti che le ter- ranno dappresso: 1) Il futurismo
non è formalista; non si crea né si lascia creare barriere dalle
definizioni; pago della pro- pria influenza, lontano da ripulse
d’ortodossia vendicati- va, riconosce per suo anche quello che è tale
sull’altro name. Del resto Corra aveva scritto: « fermo
restando che l’essenza del futurismo è e non può non essere rivolu-
zionaria, bisogna dire che nel nostro Movimento i termi- ni sinistra e
destra non sì oppongono, perdono cioè il loro significato convenzionale.
La mentalità futurista supera il contrasto fra il sovvertimento e la
conservazione, in quanto si libera di continuo in uno slancio creativo
». Le centinaia di migliaia di aderenti al Movimen- to non si
compongono di un solo tipo di futurista. La convinzione può essere unica;
ma l'ispirazione e i tem- peramenti saranno naturalmente diversi. Così
uno stesso tema, di sentimento futurista, verrà espresso in stili
di- versi. Si dovrebbe scartare i meno intensi? Fino a quel
pun- to? E come negarne la sostanza futurista? 3) La varietà
di tipi, che documenta l’importanza sociale del fenomeno futurista, è
assoluta; e va dai poeti ai militari, dai pittori agli industriali,
ecc. Bisogna presupporne quindi una gradazione di realiz.
zatori; gradazione intimamente connessa alle diverse si. tuazioni
ambientali o tecniche in cui i tipi si trovano. Non si tratta qui di
temperamento o di mentalità più o meno ardenti. Si tratta di concezione e
di azione che devono spesso basarsi sul comune « campo pratico » dove
s'in- contrano il numero o la psicologia, cioè i mezzi materiali
negli scambi del pensiero e del lavoro (p. e, i giornalisti,
gl'ingegneri). Io penso che Marinetti, quando parla nei convegni
e alle inaugurazioni, faccia — con istintiva attenuazione del- la
sua anima inquieta — del futurismo di destra. Perché allora è sul terreno
« pratico ». E buon testimone potrebbe esserci Mino Somenzi
stes- so, uomo ardito, pittore d'incendi, cervello intransigente,
che pure fu l'organizzatore, modesto e alacre del I. Con- gresso
futurista a Milano, 1924, riuscendo con l'intelli- gente accoglienza a
dare alla manifestazione una luce di concordia, rara nelle ancor più rare
grandi adunate di artisti e di caratteri spiccatissimi; Somenzi stesso
che fon- dò questo giornale indispensabile alle rivendicazioni di
con- quiste artistiche e ideali misconosciute ed alla continua-
zione della tenace opera di ringiovanimento, ed accolse dopo, con
larghezza d'intenti, l'ingegno d'ogni età e d'ogni fama purché attratto
da poli positivi. Dunque, se si dovesse affermare l'essenza d’un
solo futurismo bisognerebbe dire: « futurismo sostanziale », che è
poi quello del 1909, di oggi e dell'avvenire: umano, illi- mitato,
ascendente. Le idee vitali sono al disopra degli stessi uomini
che le divinano e le dettano. Esse formano il « tempo », mi.
racolosamente, quasi contro tutte le volontà. Corrado Govoni, a
seguito della discussione aperta da Bruno Corra, proponeva di riesaminare
la posizione del tuturismo fra le correnti nostrane ed estere. Dei sette
que- siti presentati, una richiamava l’attenzione su l'accusa mos-
sa dal culturalismo circa una pretesa assenza di dottrina giustificante
l'estetica futurista. Anche il Fascismo fu accusato di assenza di
dottrina: - e non dai soli avversari. Quale dottrina, quando
la critica ufficiale vede attra- verso la cultura, divenuta una seconda
natura? Remo CHITI (da: Faturismo, n. 30, anno II, 2 aprile
1933] Mi ricordo che Umberto Boccioni propendeva per un movimento chiuso
e voleva che i giovani artisti, i quali si dichiatavano futuristi e
aspitavano ad entrare nel nostro gruppo, subissero un lungo periodo di
quarantena. Secondo Boccioni non bastava proclamarsi novatore
per esserlo, in realtà; non era sufficiente una adesione più o meno
entusiastica per avere ingresso libero in un mo- vimento che si proponeva
di attuare nell'arte e nella vita un nuovo ordine di cose.
Dal suo punto di vista, puramente artistico, il crea- tore del «
dinamismo plastico » non aveva torto. Il dono della originalità non è
largito che a pochi. Per superare il già fatto, mettersi in armonia coi
propri tempi e pre- vedere i lineamenti estetici del futuro occorre
un’intelli- genza ardita, geniale e di largo respiro. Ma
contro l’esclusivismo boccioniano insorgeva la vi 141
brante liberalità di Marinetti, che più futurista di ogni altro intuiva
la necessità di creare un clima, di generaliz- zare una tendenza, di
suscitare una vasta atmosfera spiri- tuale in cui si dovessero respirare
continuamente il senso e il desiderio della novità. Ecco la
ragione profonda del suo proselitismo, della sua accettazione, quasi
incondizionata nel movimento, di tutti quei giovani e giovanissimi che
avessero fede nel futurismo. Tale generosità non fu e non
sarà mai faciloneria. Nel fervore del diciottenne c'è sempre
qualcosa di vivo e di sacro che è impossibile trascurare. Ognuno di
noi sa per esperienza che è la primavera, anche con le sue
intemperanze, la stagione che prepara i germi e i frutti di domani. E non
bisogna aver paura che gli entusiasmi sbol- liscano presto. Basta che la
fiaccola timanga accesa e che trascorra di mano in mano agitata e
sollevata continua- mente da qualcuno che ha fiducia nell’eterna
giovinezza della nostra arte e della nostra vita. Futurismo
di destra? Futurismo di sinistra? Non cre- do che sia il caso di
parlarne. In quanto alle benemerenze e al sacrifici, talvolta eroici, dei
primi banditori del futu- tismo essi appartengono ormai alla
storia. L'amico Govoni vorrebbe che i futuristi della vigilia
fossero promossi al grado di santoni e avessero quel tribu- to di
applausi e di ricompense che essi giustamente meri- tano. Ma ciò
equivarrebbe a una giubilazione e noi ri- schieremmo di diventare dei
sopravvissuti. Il piedistallo e l’altare non sono il nostro posto
di combattimento. In prima linea sempre e all'avanguardia ad
ogni co- sto! Anche a costo di essere eternamente in contrasto con
il gusto del pubblico che è per sua natura ritardatario e accetta
soltanto il futurismo di seconda mano, addomesti- cato dagli abili
profittatori del nostro movimento. Questo disprezzo del rendiconto
e del caso personale, questa ferma volontà di essere più giovani dei
giovani è un segno di vitalità e quindi di ottimismo. Di
quell’otti- mismo che molti pseudo-avanguardisti aborrono perché
so- 142 no nati con la barba nel cervello, non hanno
avuto mai vent'anni e non arrivano a comprendere che soltanto nel-
l'entusiasmo assoluto e nella fede cosciente ma senza mez- zi termini c'è
il lievito di ogni grandezza futura e d’ogni poesia nuova. Chi ha il
torcicollo nostalgico non può guar- dare dititto innanzi a sé e andare
oltre speditamente. Chi nega l'ottimismo nega lo slancio vitale che
si per- petua nel tempo e nello spazio perché ricco di speranze
istintive e fornito da madre natura del vero e genvino senso
dell'immortalità. Avanti dunque coi giovani e giovanissimi. Il
clima fu- turista dev’essere sopratttuto un clima primaverile e
acerbo. Luciano FOLGORE [da: Futurismo, -- Abbiamo raccolto
quattro testimonianze futuriste, è sul futurismo. Una è di Alberto
Sartoris, architetto, una di Tullio Crali, pittore, una di Curto Belloli,
eri- tico d'arte, e una di Enzo Benedetto, pittore e giorna- lista.
Tre furono e sono futuristi: il quarto (Carlo Bel. loli) è un esperto,
studioso ed interprete del futurismo. Ci sono sembrati interventi
significativi e ittdispensa- bili alla puntualizzazione dell'argomento, visto
che si tratta di personaggi viventi, che hanno partecipato al
futurismo e che ancora oggi lo sostengono e cercano di dargli alito o di
vivere futuristicamente a tutt'oggi in un mondo, forse, ricaduto nel «
passatismo ». Crali con l'aeropittura e la sassintesi ha continuato
l'avan- guardia, cui aveva aderito col futurismo che sempre l'aveva
sostenuta, al di qua e al di là del fascismo. Benedetto con un manifesto
{Futurismo oggi) e poi con un foglio periodico «operativo »,
capace di pro porci il futurismo di ieri e anche quello di oggi.
Sar toris con un'ottività artistica professionale volta 4 con-
timuare, anche se in oltre direzioni n con altri strumen- ti di vicerca,
la prima avanguardia cui aveva aderito entusiasta. Belloli puntualizza e
sancisce criticamente con la profondità dell’evperto certi. rapporti e
certe « colleganze », troppo spesso volutamente dimenticate 0
accantonate. La critica deve essere seria e intellettual. mente, n
«ideologicamente », corretta. E° quello che abbiamo cercato di fare.
Anche con la pubblicazione di questo testimonianze Carlo
Belloli, critico, poeza « visuale » di sperimen tazione futurista, e
docente nelle università svizzere di estetica {Basilca) e storia della critica
d'arte (Strasbur- go) Nato nel 1922, vive a Milano e Basilea. E'
colla boratore de La Martinella di Milano, già del Roma di Napoli,
e della rivista Les Arts di Parigi Organizza come consulente le mostre di
numerose gallerie d'arte di Milano. Enzo Benedetto,
pittore e scrittore, futurista « da sempre » (1923). E' nato a Reggio
Calabria nel 1905, vive a Roma, dove ha lo studio e pubblica
Futurismo aggi, che esce dal ‘69, bimestralmente, con saggi e ri
produzioni di opere futuriste. Fu anche autore del l'omonimo manifesto
nel dopoguerra (1967). ‘Tullio Crali, pittore futurista e
aeropittore. E' nato nel 1910 a Igalo, in Dalmazia. Vive a Milano dove
ha lo studio e il più importante archivio del futurismo attualmente
esistente. Futurista dal '29 e creatore della camicia anticravatta e
della giacca antibavero (nel '33), é firmatario nel ‘58 del manifesto
futurista sulla « Sas- sintesi ». Sarà uno degli ultimi a vedere
Marinetti nel ‘4d, prima della morte, a Venezia e e concordare can
lui la continuità del futurismo dapo la guerra Alberto Sartoris,
architeito e professore dll'Univer sità di Losanna. Futurista e amico di
Terragm e di Le Corbusier, E' nato a Torino nel 1901. Vive a
Cossonay Ville, vicino a Losanna, Aderì al futurismo nel 1920 e nel
‘28 sarà con Prampolini e Fillia nel gruppo torinese. Nel ’36 fonda il
gruppo degli astrattisti a Como, dove collabora con Terragni nel progetto
della città operaia di Rebbio. ('39-40). Sua opera fondamentale è il
li bro Gli elementi dell’architettura funzionale (1932), pilastro
teorico del razionalismo architettonico italiano (introdotto da Le
Corbusier) FUTURISMO-FASCISMO: OSMOSI DI DUE MOVIMENTI
DELL'ITALIA CONTEMPORANEA Dal futurismo confluirono al
fascismo, o viceversa, al- cuni letterati e pittori, qualche pensatore,
di singolare auto- nomia espressiva. E' il caso di Mario
Carli, Emilio Settimelli ed Arman- do Mazza letterati e giornalisti di
non trascurabile inci- denza che dalla originaria militanza futurista
estrassero dialettica, argomentazioni autonome e maturazione spiri-
tuale, per assumere nel giornalismo fascista più avanzato ruoli
protagonisti. Mario Carli, ufficiale degli Arditi nella prima
guerra mondiale e poi legionario fiumano, fondò con F.T. Ma-
rinetti l'Associazione degli Arditi d’Italia e il periodico Roma
Futurista dalle cui colonne trovarono sistematica divulgazione il teatro
sintetico, le pratiche parolibere dei poeti futuristi e le prime prove
versoliberiste di Giuseppe Bottai che ne fu redattore. In
quel 1919 anche il generale Luigi Capello si avvi- cinerà ai futuristi
per esporre alcune tavole parolibere di accertata ingegnosità, alla «
Grande Esposizione Naziona- le Futurista » nella galleria centrale d'arte
di Palazzo Co- va a Milano, mostra successivamente presentata a
Firenze e a Genova. Mario Carli con la raccolta di versi
liberi e parole in libertà Caproni, pubblicata a Milano nel 1925,
precorse l’aeropoesia futurista degli Anni Trenta. Alla
prosa poetica, Carli, aveva dedicato Le notti fil- trate, singolare repertorio
lirico pubblicato nel 1918 e ri- stampato a Roma, nel 1923 per i tipi di
Giorgio Berlutti che dirigerà quella Libreria del Littorio, editrice di
mo: numenti e documenti dell'era fascista. Il suo debutto di
prosatore era avvenuto nel 1909 con un seguito di novel- le, Seduzioni,
cui seguirà, nel 1915, il suo primo romanzo, Retroscena. All’attività
letteraria e giornalistica Mario Carli alternerà quella politica e
diplomatica. Nel 1926 pubblicherà a Firenze Fascismo
Intransigente, con prefazione di Roberto Farinacci, che inaugurerà la
ten- denza più oltranzista del fascismo. Nel 1925 Carli era
stato nominato Console d’Italia in Brasile, per essere in seguito
trasferito a Porto Alegre nel 1927, anno in cui Bernardo Attolico
assumerà la reg- genza dell'Ambasciata d’Italia a Rio de Janeiro.
La tournée brasiliana del fondatore del futurismo a Rio de Janeiro,
Porto Alegre, San Paolo e Santos, nel maggio del 1926, troverà Mario
Carli a fianco di Mari- netti per arginare le polemiche causate in
Brasile dalla aperta posizione fascista dell’inventore delle parole in
li bertà. Dalla ribalta dei teatri brasiliani Carli prenderà
la parola con Marinetti ricordando che il fascismo dei-futu- risti
non aveva impedito di condurre ricerche nuove nelle arti e nell'estetica
alle quali la poetica futurista aveva aperto liberi orizzonti
precisamente influenzando il « mo- dernismo » sudamericano.
Emilio Settimelli, poeta, scrittore di teatro e giorna- lista,
aveva debuttato nel gruppo futurista toscano nel 1915 e con F.T.
Marinetti e Bruno Corra aveva curato la prima antologia del Teatro
Sintetico Futurista, edita da Umberto Notati, a Milano in quel medesimo
anno, nella collezione dei « Breviari Intellettuali » del suo Istituto
Editoriale Italiano. Nel 1917 Settimelli pubblicherà a Firenze
Maschera- te e, nel 1918, I capricci della Duchessa Pallore, edito
a Milano dalle Messaggerie Italiane. Settimelli risulta pre-
cursote di un periodare scarno e telegrafico, serrato e dia- lettico,
inttoducendo la pratica di neologismi sociopolitici che avranno fortuna
nel linguaggio governativo e giorna- listico italiano degli Anni Venti e
Trenta. Il teatro sin- tetico di Settimelli si differenzia da quello
degli altri auto- ri futuristi per lucida imprevedibilità di azioni-stati
d’ani- mo simultanei. Nel fascismo anche Settimelli appartenne alla
corrente più revisionista e le sue Sassate, pubblicate 148
a Roma-Firenze nel 1926 dalla Casa Editrice Italiana, col: piranno
più di un gerarca in posizione moderata e con- formista.
Filippo Tommaso Marinetti redigerà nel 1921 con Emi- lio Settimelli
e Mario Carli il manifesto Che cos'è il Futu- rismo | Nozioni elementari,
dove vengono considerati « fu- turisti nella politica » coloro che amano
il progresso del- l'Italia più di loro stessi, quelli che vorranno
liberare l'Italia dal papato, dalla monarchia, dal senato, dal
parla- mento, dal matrimonio, precorrendo molti, successivi, pro- positi
del fascismo. Così la volontà di perseguire un governo tecnico
di giovani, senza parlamento, « vivificato da un consiglio ec-
citatorio di giovanissimi », la determinazione di « espro- priare
gradualmente tutte le terre incolte e malcoltivate, preparando la
distribuzione della terra ai suoi lavoratori » e l'abolizione di ogni
forma di parassitisma burocratico, industriale e capitalistico,
diventeranno tipicamente na- zionalfasciste e fasciorepubblicane.
Il manifesto considera, poi, « futurista nella vita » chi « sa dare
a tempo un cazzotto e uno schiaffo decisivo », chi « agisce con energia
pronta e non esita per vigliacche- ria », come chi « fra due decisioni da
prendere preferisce la più generosa e la più audace, sempre che sia
legata al maggiore perfezionamento e sviluppo dell'individuo e del-
la razza... »: medesima l'etica fascista di alcuni anni dopo. Nel
1922 Emilio Settimelli aveva dedicato un saggio critico all'opera di
Marinetti, edito a Milano con | tipi di Gaetano Facchi, che può essere
considerato il primo ten- tativo di analizzare la letteratura
marinettiana al di sopra del clamore scandalistico e della propaganda
futurista. Nel 1927 Settimelli pubblicherà a Roma, nelle
Edizioni d'Arte e di Critica, Come combatto che raccoglie i suoi
più polemici scritti apparsi sul quotidiano romano L’Irm- pero, diretto
con Mario Carli. Verso la fine degli Anni Trenta, Settimelli,
subirà al. cuni anni di confino di polizia causati dalla sua
intransi- genza critica verso alcuni personaggi-chiave del regime.
Di Armando Mazza, che ci fu dato di personalmente 149
conoscere e frequentare, il futurismo si avvaleva per pre- sentare
le prime, contestate, serate propagandistiche nei teatri della
Penisola. Eccellente declamatore di versi, tonante dicitore
di manifesti tecnici futuristi, Mazza possedeva un fisico atle-
tico di lottatore greco-romano. Marinetti affidava, quindi, a Mazza la
protezione della ribalta dagli attacchi passatisti, mentre Îa sua voce
tonante sovrastava i fischi e il vociare degli oppositori.
Singolare poeta parolibero, Mazza, sarà il primo ad organizzate un
movimento anticomunista, fondando nel 1919 a Milano, il settimanale
politico I wmemzici d'Italia, organo antimarxista, nazionalista e
prefascista. Nel 1918 Mazza aveva pubblicato dall'editore Gaetano Facchi
di Milano 10 Liriche d'Amore, seguito di altrettanti poemi in versi
liberi stampati come cartoline postali raccolte in contenitore di carta
crespata. Queste cartoline poetiche so- no il primo esempio rilevabile e
significativo di quella che negli Anni Settanta verrà definita Ma:l Art,
« Arte po- stale », assegnando alla comunicazione poetica il canale
inabituale della spedizione a domicilio del messaggio este- tico. Già nel
1917, Armando Mazza, aveva introdotto l’uso delle « Cartoline Postali di
Guerra », edite dallo Stabi- limento Tipografico Taveggia di Milano, di
cui Vedetta (cm. 13,7 x 19) resta la più curiosa ed esteticamente
de- terminante. Ai poemi postali faranno seguito Due morti. liriche
pubblicate nel 1919. Nel 1920 Mazza pubblica Firmamento / con una
spie gazione di F.T. Marinetti sulle Parole in Libertà, edito a
Milana dalle Edizioni Futuriste di Poesia. Si tratta di una pregevole
sequenza di parole in libertà dove la com- ponente tipovisuale
dialettizza le scelte semantiche, tal- volta enfatiche ed irruenti con
frequenti ricorsi ad ana- logie non sempre depurate. Poi Mazza verrà
totalmente assorbito dal giornalismo e dall’attività politica
Sarà direttore di importanti periodici come La grande Italia e di
quotidiani: L'Arena di Verona, I! Giornale di Genova, Il Resto del
Carlino di Bologna. Ricordiamo i grandi occhi azzurri di Armando
Mazza 150 farsi ancora più liquidi e trasparenti
quando ci parlava del Manifesto dell’Antitradizione Futurista dalle righe
del qua- le Apollinaire gli inviava, nel 1913, fiori, « rose »,
riser- vando « merde » ai conservatori e ai romantici. Mazza aveva
frequentato Guglielmo Apollinaire a Parigi e Grasa Aranba a Rio de
Janeiro, Benedetto Croce a Napoli, ai tempi de La Diana e Giovanni
Gentile a Milano, proprio mentre il filosofo stava orientandosi verso il
fascismo. Amicissimo di Umberto Boccioni, che aveva aiutato nei
primi anni del soggiorno milanese, Mazza, era stato di- pinto dal maestro
futurista in un esemplare pastello di rara fattura e di deflagrante
cromaticità, che pubblicam- mo nel 1977 fra le opere inedite di
Boccioni. Sarà Mazza a favorire l'attitudine di Boccioni per
la critica d'arte, presentandolo ad Umberto Notari, editore del
quotidiano, poi settimanale, Gli Avvenimenti dove il pittore reggerà per
qualche tempo la rubrica d'arte. Il fascismo di Armando Mazza restò
sempre moderato e la sua coerenza politica gli causerà nel dopoguerra
1940-1945 il più completo ostracismo, impedendogli di continuare la
attività giornalistica di cui ebbe profonda nostalgia sino agli ultimi
giorni di vita. Il forzoso silenzio pubblicistico ricondusse Mazza
alla poesia alla quale apporterà non trascurabili contributi in
versi liberi pubblicati, fra il 1948 e il 1959, presso editori
inadeguati. Fra i più importanti poeti del futurismo con- fluiranno al
fascismo, assumendovi incarichi di alta re- sponsabilità, anche Auro
d'Alba (Umberto Bottone) che, a Roma, diventerà capo dell'ufficio stampa
della M.V.S.N. (Milizia Volontaria per la Sicurezza Nazionale) e
Paolo Buzzi che, a Milano, assumerà la carica di Segretario Ge-
nerale della Deputazione Provinciale. Altri futuristi di minore rilievo,
come il poeta Federico Pinna-Berchet, au- tore delle Liriche d’Assalto,
pubblicate a Roma nel 1930, il poeta parolibero giuliano Bruno Sambo e
Ferruccio Vecchi, prosatore e capitano degli Arditi, aderiranno al
fascismo svolgendovi ruoli anche decisivi. Sambo diventerà federale di
Addis Abeba, mentre Pinna-Berchet e Vecchi ricopriranno alte cariche
corporative. Così il genovese Bolzon, poeta-pittore futurista dal 1919 e
battagliero giornalista, sarà Sottosegretario alle Colonie nel 1928,
poi Consigliere di Stato e autore, fra il 1920 e il 1930, di saggi
di critica sociale e di teoria fascista pubblicati dalle edizioni Alpes
di Milano. Anche il grande invalido di guerra Giuseppe
Steiner, piacentino, poeta parolibero e autore di quei fondamentali
Stati d'Animo disegnati, editi nel 1923, che precorsero la « poesia
grafica » di Pino Masnata e la « poesia visiva » dei giovani fiorentini
negli Anni Sessanta, sarà nominato Consigliere Nazionale fascista. Dal
futurismo si oriente- ranno verso il fascismo anche il poeta-aviatore
Guido Kel- ler, legionario fiumano e autore del lancio aereo di un
pitale su Montecitorio a monito di Francesco Saverio Nitti, il « cagoia »
del « Natale di sangue » fiumano; e la Me- daglia d'Oro ferrarese Olao
Gaggioli, poeta parolibero fu- turista e pluridecorato ufficiale del
XXIII Battaglione di Assalto dei Bersaglieri sul Podgora.
Nan va, infine, dimenticato il giornalista Ernesto Da- quanno, poeta
parolibero e cofondatore a Milano del pe- riodico I Principe, organo fascista
difensore della « Mo- narchia integrale ». Daquanno, che nel 1925 aveva
pub- blicato Now c'è poesia, saggi sul risveglio dell’artigianato
italiano, diventerà nel 1927 capo ufficio stampa della Federazione
Fascista delle Comunità Artigiane. Un riferimento, poi, al poeta
parolibero e autore di teatro sintetico Guglielmo Jannelli, messinese,
che dai «Fa- sci Futuristi », di cui era stato promotore nel 1918
con Marinetti, passerà ai « Fasci di Combattimento Siciliani »
assumendovi compiti determinanti. Nel 1924 Jannelli pub- blichetà a Messina,
per i tipi delle Edizioni della Balza Futurista un polemico saggio
dedicato a La crisi del Fa- scismo in Sicilia, dedicato in frontespizio «
A Emilio Set- timelli e Mario Carli, miei fratelli nella avanguardia
arti- stica e politica della nuova Italia e anime capaci di ren-
dere pienamente la sincerità che mi ha mosso a compiere queste franche
pagine obbiettive ». Questo scritto di Jannelli conferma
l’esistenza di una autocritica nell’ambito del fascismo, di una volontà
revt- con 1acusaro adagio. «..,
oDbDedienza pronta, cieca, aSS0- luta... ». Così Jannelli vede il
fascismo nel 1924: «... il fascismo si è rotto in due pezzi: molta della
parte più buona è rimasta bloccata, impedita di agire; e l’altra
par- te trionfa esteriormente unita ma intimamente diversa, po- co
moderna, niente affatto veloce e qualche volta insi- gnificante...
». Anche Corrado Pavolini, poeta, autore teatrale, regi-
sta, critico d’arte e letterario, che si era avvicinato al mo- vimento di
Marinetti attraverso l’opera del pittore futuri- sta fiorentino Primo
Conti e aveva dedicato nel 1924 un saggio monografico al fondatore del
futurismo pet, infine, pubblicare nel 1927, a Bologna per i tipi dello
Zanichelli, quel fondamentale Cubismo Futurismo Impressionisnio,
ade- rirà al fascismo assumendo importanti incarichi nel diret.
torio del partito e al Ministero della Cultura Popolare. Dal fascismo
perverrà, invece, al futurismo il filosofo Fran- cesco Orestano, Accademico
d’Italia, che negli Anni Tren- ta dedica al movimento di Marinetti saggi
di teoria este- tica e di critica letteraria. Orestano aveva pubblicato
nel 1907 quegli importanti Valori Umani la cui struttura teo-
retica aveva particolarmente influenzato il giovane Ma- rinetti.”
Anche Paolo Orano, scrittore, storico della filosofia e
sindacalista sorelliano, che fu Deputato fascista per la Sardegna alla
XXVI legislatura e per la Toscana alla XXVII e al quale venne affidata
nel 1926 la prima cattedra di storia del giornalismo nella facoltà di
Scienze Politiche dell’Università di Perugia, si orienterà verso il
futurismo. Nella raccolta di saggi critici I Contemporanei,
pubblicata a Milano da Mondadori nel 1928, Orano riserverà a Ma-
rinetti una esegesi determinante, del tutta favorevole al futurismo
considerato estetica nuova di apertura inter- nazionale. Dalla pittura
futurista si muove, invece, verso il fascismo Antonio Marasco, senz'altro
il più impegnato e coerente politico fra tutti gli operatori plastici del
futu- rismo. Calabrese di nascita, Marasco, ebbe parte
rilevante nelle squadre d'azione fasciste di Firenze dove si era
tra- sferito prima ancora di arruolarsi volontario per la guerra
1915-1918, in cui verrà gravemente colpito da gas di ipri- te sul Piave e
dopo essere stato promotore con Marinetti dei « Fasci Futuristi ».
Nel 1914 Marasco aveva accompagnato Marinetti nel suo secondo
viaggio in Russia, a Mosca e a Pietroburgo, dove avrà modo di conoscere
Velimir Klebnikow e Wla- dimir Mavakowsky e di dedicare fisiosintesi di
estrema inventività grafica al medico-pittore Nicolaj Kulbin,
al pittore Nikolaj Burliuk, alla poetessa Elena Guro, al poe-
ta-aviatore Kamensky, al poeta-scrittore B. Livshits, al mu- sicista A.
V. Lurié e al regista Tairow. La pittura di Ma. rasco presenterà sempre
componenti sperimentali, non con- dizionata da temi fascisti o da enfasi
dell'aviazione mili- tare e civile che, purtroppo, sviliranno molta parte
della neropittura futurista degli Anni Trenta. Antonia Matasco
precorre il cosiddetto « astrattismo » delineatosi nell’am- bito della
milanese Galleria del Milione dei fratelli Ghi- ringhelli e può essere
considerato uno dei pionieri del costruttivismo e del concretismo
internazionali. Particolarmente affezionati a Marasco avevamo
avuto modo, negli Anni Sessanta, di presentare la sua prima mostra
personale a Milano, di carattere antologico, attra- verso la quale il più
vasto pubblico riuscì a scoprire le sue ricerche preastratte e
protoconcretiste realizzate a Fi- renze fra il 1923 e il 1930
Marasco restò sempre legato al futurismo e il suo fa- scismo ebbe
coerenza di adesione alla Repubblica Sociale Italiana dove ricoprì
importanti incarichi nella rinnovata Direzione Generale delle Belle Arti
e dei Beni Culturali del Ministero della Cultura Popolare. Questo
magistrale pittore svolse anche attività di scrittore e di critico
d’arte e un suo libro, pubblicato a Firenze nel 1935, Parrorami
allo Zenit, risulta anticipatore dell’attuale science-fiction.
Nell'ambito del movimento futurista, Marasco, pro- mosse i « Gruppi
Futuristi Indipendenti », attivi a Firen- ze fra il 1925 e il 1958, che
rivelarono personaggi della importanza di Cesare Augusto Poggi,
architetto razionalista, tecnologo del cemento armato e ideatore di
singolari costruzioni civili per la difesa bellica. Quando, nella
se- conda metà degli Anni Trenta, s'inasprirà la campagna fa-
scista contro il futurismo, accusato di difendere l'arte « astratta »
considerata « giudea e massonica », Matasco sarà a fianco di Marinetti
per chiarire i termini di indi- pendenza dell’« astrattismo » plastico da
ogni motivazio- ne di razza, da qualsivoglia matrice israelitica o
mura- toria. Se disponessimo di maggiore spazio per analizzare
compiutamente questo pericoloso momento dei rapporti fu- turismo-fascismo
ne risulterebbe la conferma di una pre- cisa interdipendenza di propositi
e di azione fra i due movimenti. Il futurismo non condizionò mai le
proprie libertà espressive, i propositi di rinnovamento, di costan-
te evoluzione spirituale, alle esigenze agiografiche del fa- scismo che,
del resto, non considerò il futurismo come arte di Stato, riservando
questo pericoloso privilegio al movimento del Novecento, celebrarore di
miti romanistici e imperiali, istigarore del ritorno al neoclassicismo,
pur mascherato da un malcompreso funzionalismo. Antonio
Marasco morirà a Firenze, nel 1975, alla so- glia degli
ottant'anni. Dopo un Jungo soggiorno romano aveva dipinto,
sino all'ultimo, cromostrutture dinamiche e inoggettive di auto-
noma soluzione cinevisuale. Puntualmente ci inviava let- tere di accorata
italianità, preziosi appunti di teoria pla- stica che, un giorno, dovremo
pur raccogliere e pubblicare come contributi fondamentali alla storia del
costruttivismo e del concretismo internazionali. Noi giovanissimi non
era- vamo disposti ad anteporre la dogmatica della mistica fa-
scista alle libertà espressive promosse e favorite dal futu- rismo, né ci
si potrà accusare di aver posto le nostre pri- me ricerche futuriste al
servizio dell'apologia di regime. Così le nostre Parole per la
Guerra, pubblicate nel mar- zo del 1944 dalle edizioni dî Futuristi in
Armi, sovven- zionate e dirette da F.T. Marinetti, non rinviano ai
canoni conformisti dell'aeropoesia futurista di guerra di quegli
an- ni ma anticipano, piuttosto, modalità di poesia concreta
e visuale, come è stato ampiamente rilevato dalla critica
internazionale più obiettiva e attenta. Il nostro poema Bimba /
bomba, del 1943, può essere, infatti, considerato il primo esempio
esistente di poesia concreta a struttura semantica reversibile e a
susseguenza ottica alternata, dove l'uso della parola-chiave è già
seria- listico. Il nostro fascismo eta quindi disarticolato
dalle pra- tiche dell’estetica futurista, proprio come si era
verificato per gli iniziatori del futurismo: F.T. Marinetti, Paolo
Buz- zi, Armando Mazza, Auro d’Alba, Luciano Folgore. In- fatti
anche i nostri Testi-Poemzi Murali, pubblicati nel 1944 dalle Edizioni
Etre (Repubblica) con un «collaudo » di Martinetti, piuttosto di
risolversi nell'abituale apologia guetresca di quel periodo, introducono
un modo nuovo di poetare inaugurando le problematiche di quella «
poesia visuale » che, solo negli Anni Cinquanta, troverà consensi
internazionali sino a farsi scuola di poesia avanzata. L’ideo- logia
politica di Marinetti, le teorie del suo particolare na- zionalismo «
prefascista » sono raccolte in due volumi pub- blicati in tempi diversi.
Democrazia Futurista, edita a Mi- lano nel 1919 da Gaetano Facchi, è la
sintesi delle posi- zioni politiche assunte da Marinetti nell'immediato
dopo- guerra 1915-1918. Vi si ripercorre l'atmosfera in cui
nel 1918, dopo Ca- poretto, Marinetti fonda i « Fasci Politici Fututisti
» con Giuseppe Bottai, Emilio Settimelli, Mario Carli, Gugliel- mo
Jannelli, Antonio Marasco, i pittori Gino Galli, Gia- como Balla, Ottone
Rosai, Fattunato Depero, il poeta-pit- tore cremonese Enzo Mainardi, lo
scrittore Remo Chiti, il poeta Luciano Nicastro, Massimo Bontempelli, il
chirur- go Giovanni Masnata, poi Senatore del Regno, padre del
poeta parolibero stradellino Pino Masnata, ai quali aderi- Sta settanta
intellettuali e uomini di varia estrazione cul- turale. I
«Fasci Politici Futuristi » si trasformeranno, poi, gradualmente in «
Fasci di Combattimento » confluendo nel. lo squadrismo fascista. Così,
quando i fascisti partecipe- ranno per Ja prima volta alle elezioni
politiche del 1919, 156 rinetti, Piero Bolzon, il poeta-aviatore
Giacomo Macchi, Baseggio e Podrecca. Futurismo e Fascismo,
pubblicato da Franco Campi. telli, editore in Foligno, nel 1924, indica,
invece, la per- sonale interpretazione della dottrina fascista praticata
da Marinetti e da molti artisti futuristi, come dai numerosi
affiancatori e propagandisti del movimento futurista. Con il manifesto
L'Impero Italiano / A Benito Mussolini - Ca- po della Nuova Italia
redatto nel 1922 da F.T. Marinetti, Mario Carli ed Emilio Settimelli, il
futurismo, già in que- gli anni, istigherà il fascismo alla fondazione
dell'Impero, precorrendo una realtà che, negli Anni Trenta si
concluderà con la conquista dell'Etiopia. Marinetti scriverà
nel 1924: «... il Fascismo, naro dall’interventismo e dal futurismo si
nutrì di principi fu. turisti... » Una storia parallela dei
due movimenti, ancora da scri- vere, dovrà tener conto della mai
rinunciata indipendenza futurista che non condizionò le esigenze di
libera ricerca espressiva alla necessità della politica
dominante. Innanzi tutto confesso che sono nato alla vita sociale
prima come fascista e dopo come futurista. Avevo sedici anni quando
nel 1921, proprio in corti. spondenza del mio compleanno, sottoscrissi
una domanda di ammissione ai « Fasci di Combattimento ». La doman-
da fu avvallata da due miei amici di maggiore età, come soci
presentatori, i quali compirono coscientemente un pic- colo falso
alterando di due anni la mia data di nascita al fine di consentire la mia
ammissione come socio ad ogni effetto. Così diventai a pieno titolo uno
dei pochi iscritti della Sezione di Reggio Calabria dei « Fasci di
Combat- timento », che aveva allora sede in una baracchetta per i
bagni di mare, in disuso. Perché questo sedicenne studente del
Liceo aveva ascoltato e risposto ad un richiamo politico certamente
pericoloso? A mio avviso, furono determinanti, l’amore per la Patria,
nato dentro durante fa guerra sull’esempio di un avo materno che ne aveva
avuto, forse, di troppo; l'entusiasmo per la vittoria e la conseguente
indignazione per quanto accadde subito dopo con l’attività dei
cosid- detti progressisti del momento, ostili ai reduci, in con-
trasto con la spavalderia ed intraprendenza di questi ul- timi.
Il mio apptoccio con il Futurismo avvenne, invece, due anni dopo,
con la scoperta di Zang iumb tuumm e l’incontro con F.T. Marinetti
Questo essere prima fascista e poi futurista, mi sem- brò una
particolarità personale e la confessai un giotno — dopo tantissimi anni
-— a Mario Dessy, e lui mi disse che gli era accaduto lo stesso benché
avesse cinque anni più di me. Comunque è chiaro che nel periodo fra il
1919 ed il 1922 vi fu un rapporto di identità ideale fra queste due
forze, anche se vi furono dissensi spesso di carattere costruttivo, E’
difficile — infatti — che possano andare in tandem per lungo tempo
movimenti di carattere poli- tico e movimenti di carattere intellettuale
o culturale. Le ragioni mi sembrano evidenti: un movimento
culturale, anche se basa la propria forza nelle realtà della vita
(come il futurismo), ha il suo fulcro nella idea-base che difende
con ortodossia e non è disponibile per transazioni ideolo- giche. Il
movimento politico, invece, pet propria natura, specie quando atrivi alla
gestione del potere, diviene dut- tile e transigente al fine di mantenere
è consolidare la proptia forza concreta, allargando la base dei
consensi. Il Futurismo prima della guerra mondiale si
caratteriz- za artisticamente con l'invenzione dei grandi temi di
rin- novamento nei settori di tutte le arti e, in veste politico-sociale,
nell’esaltazione dell’Italia, fantasticando per que- sta, una nuova
organizzazione anti-demo-liberale ed anti- clericale. Un nuovo mado di
vivere. Uno Stato industriale ed agricolo tecnicamente progredito, che si
progettava astrattamente, certamente irrealizzabile. Qui i tentativi
di un’azione politica che non aveva, però, un valido autonoma
sviluppo organizzativo. Come pretenderlo da poeti ed ar- tisti?
Nel tempo in cui Marinetti iniziò il « Movimento », le forze che
affermavano di voler realizzare un nuovo svi- luppo sociale al fine di un
miglioramento della situazione economica delle classi più disagiate e
trascurate, trovava- no una sede formalmente appropriata nelle spinte del
sa- cialismo deamicisiano; ma tale situazione ebbe durata bre- ve
perché questo socialismo si sviluppò in senso interna- zionalista
apatriottico collettivista antindividualista e fu sconfitto dagli eventi
della prima guetra mondiale. Tanto è vero che dal suo seno, a guerra
conclusa, prosperarono il comunismo ed altre scissioni e nacque il
fascismo. Sono noti e possono essere facilmente consultati i
do- cumenti delle manifestazioni spiccatamente politiche del
movimento futurista che precedettero la Fondazione dei « Fasci di
Combattimento ». Intendo rifetirmi al « Pro- gramma Politico Futurista »
dell'11 ottobre 1913, firma- to da Marinetti Boccioni Carrà Russolo,
all'azione politi- ca svolta da La Balza Futurista fondata da Di
Giacomo Jannelli e Nicastro del 1915, e dei «Fasci Interventisti
Siciliani », di Roma Futurista e dei relativi gruppi, nati nel 1917-18,
del Partito Politico Futurista sempre del 1918 che concretizzava un suo
programma nel libro Democrazia Futurista di Marinetti, eccetera eccetera.
Tutte queste for- ze si concentrarono nel movimento fascista nel 1919,
sia aderendo direttamente all'assemblea di fondazione di Piaz- za
San Sepolcro in Milano, sia successivamente anche per forza
d'inerzia. Il fatto è che — di solito — quando si parla di
par- tecipazione politica dei futuristi, ci si richiama soltanto al
ricordo dell’attività degli artisti che militarono con la qualificazione
di « futuristi ». Vale a dire dei poeti, scrittori, pittori, limitandosi ovviamente
ad esaminare il con- tributo di coloro che hanno raggiunto maggiore
notorietà, trascurando i « minori ». Ma questi ultimi erano in nu-
mero stragrande e molto attivi. Senza tenere inoltre conto che i maggiori
spesso presi del tutto da altre attività, non erano altrettanto validi e
disponibili in campo politico. In verità, il « Futurismo » di quel tempo
è stato un movi- mento a larga partecipazione di giovani, di tantissimi
gio- vani. Non tutti poterono — ovviamente militare nel campo
dell'Arte e maturare tanta notorietà da essere ri- cordati anche oggi. Ma
tutti furono politicamente attivi e furono a migliaia i militanti di
futurismo che partecipa- rono ad episodi fascisti negli anni precedenti,
o appena suc- cessivi, alla marcia su Roma. Non credo di
sbagliare se affermo che nelle cosiddet- te schiere dello « squadrismo »
molte furono le partecipa- zioni futuriste. Azione lotta e coraggio erano
proposizioni futuriste. Basta ricordare la prima azione di Marinetti
e Ferruccio Vecchi nel 1919 (16 aprile: Piazza Mercanti Mi- lano) e
ricordare i tanti nomi dei militanti futuristi che ebbero più spicco in
campo politico che in quello dell’arte. Alla fondazione dei Fasci,
confluirono nel fiume che diventò principale, molteplici rivoli di
pensiero (come ho già accennato) movimenti di ogni genere che avevano
un minimo comune denominatore nella volontà di rinnovare in qualche
modo l’Italia che, pur vittoriosa nella guerra, si dimenava in serie
difficoltà ed era incapace ad affron- tare la svolta storica che la
vittoria aveva aperto. Anche i Fasci Interventisti Futuristi Siciliani,
che avevano preso forza dalla volontà di Jannelli e Nicastro (il prima
con capacità ed intendimenti politici ed il secondo come lette-
rato e poeta), ma dei quali non si è ancora scritta la storia, né
accertato la reale efficienza, vi aderirono. Come aderì Marinetti con
tanti altri futuristi che risultano elen- cati nella schiera dei
cosiddetti « sansepolcristi ». In seguito, quando il fascismo andò
al potere, ai futu- risti sembrò che finalmente sarebbero stati
realizzati nel- l’arte gran parte dei propositi del futurismo. In
questa illusione fummo cullati da alcuni elementi: la impostazio-
160 ne altamente patriottica dei propositi, la
valorizzazione del combattentismo e del volontarismo, l'amore per il
nuovo ed il rischio, il pragmatismo attivo dimostrato immedia-
tamente con i primi atti di governo, eccetera. Va anche rammentato ai
giovani di oggi, frastornati da affermazioni non rispondenti alla realtà
di allora, che la personalità di Mussolini era molto al di sopra non solo
di quella dei suoi collaboratori politici, ma sovrastava la media dei
cer- velli politici di quel periodo. Tanto è vero che furono ap-
punto gli avversari a votargli subito i « pieni poteri » che gli
consentirono l'avvio della prima gestione governativa. Questo fatto
rilevante, gli consentì di attrarre dapprima le simpatie collettive ed —
in seguito — a conquistare una enorme fiducia, non solo da parte dei suoi
sostenitori di un tempo, ma anche da parte di ex avversari e simpa.
tizzanti e — nei periodi più floridi — perfino dai nemici del sistema
politico che egli cercava di sviluppare. Quando il fascismo s’insediò
al governo per realizzare la rivoluzione {a dire dei fascisti), o perché
chiamato dalla debole monarchia (come dicono gli altri), subì
dapprima una sosta di aggiornamento dovuta alla urgenza de) pro-
blemi immediati dalla cui soluzione dipendeva il recupe- ro dell'ordine
econamico e politico. Per questo, Mussolini non si sbarazzò
immediatamente degli avversari che erano troppi e in gran parte si erano
dichiarati disponibili a collaborare per il meglio, pur costituendo nello
stessa tempo zone di resistenza alle innovazioni Così anche
nei fatti dell’Arte ovviamente meno pres- santi, ove non comparvero
personalità « nuove » che aves- sero seri propositi di rinnovamento e
disponibili a rivolu- zionare tutto, come i futuristi. I quali con a capo
Mari. netti e nella quasi totalità si convinsero che la « rivolu-
zione » potesse realizzarsi per pradi anche in Arte. Che la forza del
nuovo potesse penetrare per gradi nelle isti- tuzioni d’Arte e
trasfarmarle. Pura illusione. Illusione giu- stificata sul momento non
solo dal fascino personale di Mussolini al quale ho già accennato, ma
anche da certe sue caratteristiche gestuali (come la particolare
sintetica e precisa oratotia che andava direttamente allo scopo in
161 modo esplicito) che lo presentavano come un
congeniale capo futurista. Se si aggiunge inoltre l'amicizia
personale fra Mussolini e Marinetti, vicini anche in altre
precedenti azioni politiche, si comprende come il movimento rivolu-
zionario rappresentato in arte dal Futurismo, rimase a fian- co del
Fascismo (esso stesso ancora tivoluzionario alla ba- sel, anche se in via
di adattamento, questo, alle esigenze immediate dell'esercizio del potere
su una nazione che di rivoluzionari di qualsiasi tipo ne ha avuto — per
la veri- tà — sempre pochi, anche se gonfiati ad oltranza quando
occorre, in tutti i testi di storia antica e recente. I futuristi
costituirono una avanguardia nelle fila del fascismo e vi rimasero nella
quasi totalità. Basta citare i] messaggio che concluse il Congresso
futurista di Milano (L'Impero, 27 novembre 1924): « L'ultima
riunione del congresso futurista è stata de- dicata all'esame
dell'attuale momento politico. Marinetti espose alla numerosa assemblea
una dichiarazione prece- dentemente elaborata in accordo con i maggiori
futuristi politici, la lettura della dichiarazione fu
entusiasticamente approvata ed acclamata in ogni suo punto. Ecco Ja
dichia razione: «“I futuristi italiani, primi fra i primi
interventisti nella piazza e sui campi di battaglia e primi fra i primi
dician- novisti più che mai devoti alle idee ed all'arte lontani
dal politicantismo, dicono al loro vecchio compagno Benito
Mussolini: Primo: con un gesto di forza ormai indispen- sabile liberati
del parlamento. Secondo: restituisci al fa- scismo ed all'Italia la
meravigliosa anima diciannovista di- sinteressata ardita antisocialista
anticlericale antimonar- chica. Tetzo: Concedi alla monarchia
soltanto la sua prov- visoria funzione unitaria, rifiutale quella di soffocare
e morfinizzare la più grande, più geniale, più giusta Italia di
domani. Quarto:- non imitare l’inimitabile Giolitti, imi- ta il grande
Mussolini del ’19. Quinto: Pensa sempre al- l'Italia immortale ed al
Carso divino. Sesto: Schiaccia la opposizione socialista antitaliana di
Turati e l'opposizione mediocrista di Albertini con una ferrea dinamica
aristocra- zia di pensiero.«“Tu puoi e devi far ciò. Noi dobbiamo volerlo
e lo vo- gliamo. F.T. Marinetti - Capo del Movimento Futurista
Italiano”». Sono inoltre innumerevoli le manifestazioni dei
futu- risti in tanie occasioni, con opere scritti ed anche con la
partecipazione concreta alle guerre di quel periodo. Vo- glio ricordare,
però, un solo scritto di Fillia (morto nel 1930 e che adesso cercano di
passare per antifascista) il quale nel 19527 in occasione della
Quadriennale di Tori- no, così scriveva sulla sua rivista Vetrina
Futurista: «... Bisogna, però, giungere a “convincere” il
grosso pubblico, ingannato a nostro riguardo dalle false inter
pretazioni. Perché il favore organizzativo che oggi ci cir- conda, non
basta: è assurdo riconoscere il futurismo come manifestazione d'Arte ed
ammettere contemporaneamente le antiche manifestazioni. La vita può avere
individual mente, diverse interpretazioni, ma tutte devono essere
in- quadrate in una sola atmsofera sensibile, corrispondente alla
vita stessa. Non voglio con questo negare il diritto di esistenza a
intere categorie di pittori rimasti spititualmen- te arretrati: ma è
necessario preparare il pubblico alla loro graduale eliminazione dalla
vita artistica ufficiale, fino al riconoscimento del Futurismo “arte di
Stato” massimo ri- conascimento che lo caratterizzerà nella sua
importanza... ». Purtroppo però le autorità artistiche avevano il
so- pravvento favorendo a vele spiegate l’architettura di Pia-
centini e gli enormi pupazzi della scultura e pittura no- vecentista,
effettivamente arte del regime. E noi futuristi interpretavamo le isianze
di rinnovamento dell’arte senza alcun riconoscimento dal Regime che ritrovava
sé stesso nelle manifestazioni novecentiste. Questo, non mi
stanco di ripeterlo, negli Anni Venti. E poi? Poi nulla. Le
vicende, le difficoltà personali, gli entu- siasmi e le depressioni, gli
alti e i bassi, il lavoro e la mag- giore maturità. Ma non creda di
sbagliare se affermo che noi futuristi vivemmo quel tempo con spirito
indipendente e piena libertà fiduciosi che in fondo avremmo avuto
ragione. Anche se spesso sopportati e negletti dalle autorità artistiche
e subiti obiorto collo quando necessario. Poi andammo all'ultima
guerra, che fu sconvolgente per tutti. To ne vissi scrupolosamente la mia
parte con coeren- za. Fui costretto fuori a lungo. Pet un anno di guerra,
ne subii sei di prigionia e non conosco nei particolari ciò che è
avvenuto qui mentre ho già scritto delle mie esperienze. AI
ritorno, nel Natale del 1946, mi sembrò di sbarcare in un altro mondo al
quale non mi sono ancora completa- mente assuefatto. Ma ripresi a vivere
da zero e nell’aprile del ‘47 cominciai la mia nuova personale battaglia
per il futurismo con la mostra alla « Galleria di Roma » inaugu-
rata da Benedetta c dedicata a F.T. Marinetti. Continuai ancora e
vado avanti con i futuristi soprav- vissuti e con l'appoggio dei giovani
che comprendono e non disdegnano l’idea del futurismo che continua e si
rinnova attraverso le spiccate personalità dei suoi artisti. Crali,
lei è pittore ed è futurista Uno dei pochis. simi, oggi. Crede che il
futurismo sia ancora attuale? SÌ, ma non per merito dei futuristi. Ma ha
una sua attualità perché si è espresso, si è mosso, e ci parla
ancora. Ma non certo per chi ci ha mangiato sopra, per chi non è
mai stato futurista, ed ha espresso solamente « necrofilia », vera e
propria « necrofilia ».Il futurismo di prima, quello per cui lei aderì al
movimento, o vi st convertì, come la investì per così dire, o come la
ispirò? R. — Non mi sono affatto « convertito », perché non
c'era niente da convertite. Mi sono trovato di fronte al 164
futurismo come un’anima candida, che non sa e non è con- sapevole
di nulla. Mi sono ritrovato una simpatia incon- scia per alcuni quadri
riprodotti su Il Mazzino illustrato di Napoli. Mi sono piaciuti, mentre
ad un amico mio, che la pensava diversamente da me, non piacevano.
Cominciam- mo a litigare, e per litigare ad approfondite
l’argomenta ecc. ecc. Così ho cominciato ad essere interessata al
futu- rismo. E sono partito senza avere una preparazione di me-
stiere. Ho fatto rutto da solo, senza imparare a dipingere o disegnare,
anche se poi una specie di grillo della coscienza mi ha suggerito che
dovevo imparare a dipingere, sia pure da solo (anatomia, prospettive, ecc
). L’astratto e il figu- rativo erano | temi o le prospettive dominanti.
Ho cercato una « terza via », che fosse tutta mia, tutta personale:
una ia di mezzo fra il figurativo e l'astratto. Poi ho lasciato il
figurativo per la mia pittura futurista. Credevo di dover dire ciò che
altri non avevano detto. Così mi sono accostata a Marinetti nel '29,
quando gli scrissi per aderire al movi. mento. L'aeroplano era una
macchina nuova, un congegno del futuro, o, per allora, del « futuribile
». E fu una delle realtà che mi diedero più spunti, più ispirazione
(l'Idrovo- lante italiano, D’'Annunzia e il volo su Vienna, e il
campo di atterraggio vicino a Zara, dove io sono nato, ecc.). Così
sono diventato acropittore. E lo sono rimasto, ancora oggi. Marinetti,
invece, per quello che lo frequentò o poté essergli vicino, come lo
considera? Forse l’unico vero futurista, © forse solo un grande « maestro
»? R. — No, non lo considero un maestra, perché non ha mai
voluto essere un « maestro ». Ci ha sempre stimolato e spinto a lare,
senza mai dire però come dovevamo fare Era contrario ad ogni gerarchia
nel movimento del futuri. smo. E si opponeva sempre a Boccioni e
Prampolini, che volevano imporre la loro pittura. Voleva che ognuno
di noi fosse libero e indipendente. Prampolini invece voleva fare
il caposcuola. Marinetti voleva solo che ognuno fosse se stesso e non ha
creato nessuna scuola. Amava la sua libertà e la sua indipendenza a tal
punto che non poteva imporre insegnamenti. Fotse D'Annunzio lo aveva
influen- zato in questo senso, nella vita mandana libera, giovane e spregiudicata.
Io lo ricordo e lo ricorderò sempre con rico- noscenza. Quasi come un
padre. O come un fratello map- giore. E come l’unico vero futurista, come
ho sempre de! resto pensato. Gli altri hanno tutti « mollato ». Lui è an-
dato avanti fino all'ultimo. L'unico che può personificare il futurismo è
fui, l’unico che non ha rivestito patine di cul: turame
intellettvalistico, come hanno fatto invece molti al- tri (Soffici,
Conti, Palazzeschi, Papini, ecc.). Amava essere futurista sempre e comunque,
anche nel gusto del contra- sto. Amava la luna, e scrisse un manifesto «
contro il chia- ro di Juna ». « Uccidiamo il chiaro di luna », vi si
diceva, forse contro i poeti. Ma non era poeta? Predicava la guer-
ra, anche se non avrebbe fatto male a nessuno. Amava la madre e la donna
in assoluto, e ciecamente. Ma combatté la donna sul piano ideologico. In
questo è veramente futu- rista. E lo è solo lui. Gli altri non lo sono
mai stati. Il futurismo di Marinetti che accento o che an-
golazione aveva particolarmente: letteraria, artistica, filoso- fica 0
piuttosto politica? R. — Politica no, assolutamente e mai.
Filosofica nean- che, se non forse in senso attivo, ma allora « senza
pen- siero ». « Il futurismo entra in politica soltanto quando la
patria entra in pericolo », aveva detto Marinetti in un momento cruciale
della nostra storia nazionale. Il manifesto politico del fuuttismo è
conseguenza del fatto che esso sta movimento d'arte e di vita, e come
tale anche di vita poli- tica, tout court. Il manifesto politico è del
’13. Dopo Ja fine della guerra l'accostamento agli arditi o al
fenomeno dell’« arditismo » era inevitabile, e Marinetti si unisce
in vincolo d'amicizia, anche politica, con Mario Carli per esem- pio
(ardito) e con Mussolini. All’avvento del fascismo e allo accostamento di
Mussolini alla monarchia e alla chiesa Ma- rinetti si stacca. Abbandona
il partito e si ritrova pressoché in miseria, con moglie e figli. Aveva
grande ammirazione ed amicizia per Mussolini, che non credo fosse
ricambiata per una certa forma di invidia-gelosia mussoliniana nei
con- fronti di Marinetti. Il regime gli offriva incarichi 0 preben-
de, che continuò a rifiutare. Mussolini arrivò ad offrirgli la presidenza
dell’Associazione dei grandi alberghi italiani, pro- 166
prio a lui che disprezzava l’industria del forestiero. Accer- tò
solamente, e sollecitato, la segreteria dell'Associazione Italiana Autori
ed Editori, altrimenti forse destinata al solito « arraffone » di turno.
Tuttavia si tenne sempre in disparte e non fece mai politica attiva, non
partecipò mai direttamente al regime, che anzi forse osservava
contrariato, a parte solo qualche onesta e sincera manifestazione di
sim- patia per Mussolini. Nel ’35 si oppose alla presa di
posizione politica di Hit- ler contro l’arte moderna e d'avanguardia, che
si manifestò e sfociò nella censura e nella repressione dell'arte. E
nella stesso momento organizzò a Berlino una mostra di aero-
pittura futurista che creò non pochi problemi e suscitò non poche
difficoltà anche diplomatiche fra i due governi ira liano e tedesco.
Oltre che produrre una situazione difficile e imbarazzante per le
posizioni o i movimenti artistici e in- tellettuali della Germania dell’epoca.
In Italia fu l’unico in questa occasione a prendere posizione ed
esprimersi con- tra l’ingerenza politica e l'intervento del regime di
Hitler nella cultura e nell'arte. Nel ‘43 ero da Marinetti a
Roma: arrivava Marinotui (presidente della Snia Viscosa) che era stato da
Mussolini insieme ad altri « consiglieri regionali » del regime.
Ma- rinotti si era accinto a raccontate a Marinetti che tutti i
consiglieri avevano « relazionato » Mussolini e che nessu- no aveva avuto
il coraggio di dirgli che le cose andavano male, tranne uno, il consigliere
sardo, che aveva sostenuto la stanchezza della gente, la maldicenza, il
tradimento... Marinetti osservava che non era possibile che non si
sa- pesse... È Marinotti ribatté che lo si sapeva, ma che non era
possibile dirlo a Mussolini... Il giorno dopo ritornai da lui e mi
comunicò che il consigliere sardo era stato nomi- nato da Mussolini
ispettore generale per tutta l'Italia. Nel ‘44 poi si mosse da
Venezia e risalì verso la Lam- bardia, perché non se la sentiva di
starsene in disparte a « far l’antifascista »... L'ultimo suo poemetto in
versi, l'ul- tima sua espressione letteraria s'intitola appunto:
Musica di sentimenti per la X Mas. E vi si dice: « Io sono fato
167 di aeropoesia fuori tempo e spazio ». E' già
definizione sintomatica e totale dell'opera. D. — Ailora,
Marinetti fu fascista? E se lo fu, lo fu fino a che punto? O non lo fu, e
fino a che punto non lo fu per essere futurista? Marinetti è stato
sempre e comunque e saprattutto futurista. Questa è la mia impressione. Perché
ha se- guito la sua natura e la sua volontà. E nel suo essere futu-
rista non è mai entrata la faziosità di un genere che « entra in politica
». Non fu mai fazioso. Una volta eravamo a casa sua, in un gruppo di
amici, a parlar di Majakowski e di futurismo russo. Qualcuno obiettò: «
Ma Majakowski è un comunista ». Ed egli allora ribatté
immediatamente: « Non ha nessuna importanza. Perché Majakowski è
prima di tutto un grande poeta ». Nei suoi rapporti cal fasci- smo
si può considerare forse il fatto che fosse nato al l’estero, che fosse
educato in Egitto alla cultura francese, spesso pesantemente sprezzante
verso l'Italia. Sentì quindi una specie di aspirazione all’Italia 0, più
ancora, di nostal- gia della patria. Poi, volle rivendicare il futurismo
come fatto classicamente e squisitamente italiano. Così s'inimicò
tutta la cricca culturale parigina, ma volle sprovincializzare e dare un
certo orgoglio e una certa autonomia alla cultu- ra italiana. E pensò o
vide che Mussolini potesse essere l'uomo adatto per rifarla, l’Italia, e
per darle una sua nuo- va base, culturale ed artistica. Senza sapere,
alle origini o senza conoscere, quando era all’estero, ed anche a
Parigi, la furbizia, anche culturale degli Italiani. Lui fu in
buona fede. Dal fascismo ebbe l’Accademia d’Italia (con appan-
naggio onorario in un momento in cui era anche in disagi economici), ed
ebbe la Biennale di Venezia {come « una riserva indiana »). Il suo è un
fascismo di speranza o di desiderio, nella speranza di poter vedere
realizzato il suo futurismo. E' contrario al « Novecento » e al
classicismo « romano » alla Piacentini, che Mussolini invece
appoggia- va. Forse tutti i regimi, quando si affermano, cercano di
eliminare le avanguardie. Il fascismo non le appoggiò, men- tre il
nazismo e il comunismo le stroncarono. Sta di fatto che Marinetti
appoggiava Terragni a Como, e non appoggiò mai Piacentini. Alla Biennale, a
Venezia, il futurismo è stato accettato sì, ma mon con la considerazione
che Marinetti si sarebbe aspettato, e che sarebbe davuta spet- tare
all'unico movimento d'avanguardia esistente allora in Italia. E invece è
stato accolto sì il futurismo, ma quasi messo in disparte.
Nel ’26, all'inaugurazione della mostra, durante il di- scorso di
presentazione, Marinetti si alzò ed intervenne ad alta voce, presente il
Ministro dell'Educazione Nazionale, lamentando l'ingiustizia per
l'esclusione dell'unico movi- mento d'avanguardia dell'arte
italiana. L'anno dopo Mus- solini stesso gli concesse un padiglione di
riserva, che do- veva rimanere, ogni anno, a disposizione dei futuristi
(la « riserva indiana », già summenzionata). D. — Mussolini
invece, secondo lei, fu futurista? R. — E' stato un politico ed ha
appoggiato Marinetti per avere il futurismo dalla sua parte. Anche se il
futu- rismo aveva contribuito, pure, alla sua formazione. Che
avesse jspirato un regime al ritorno verso l'antica Roma nei suoi simboli
e nei suoi modelli, vuol dire tuttavia che era rimasto fuori dal futurismo.
D.— E allora il fascismo di Mussolini ed il futurismo di Marinetti
non hanno nessun punto in comune? O si possono, secondo lei, mettere in
relazione o in collega mento, e fino a che punto ciò è possibile? Per
Mussolini il fascismo è politica, per Mari- netti il futurismo è poesia.
Sono due posizioni completa- mente diverse. D. — Non si può
quindi parlare di futurismo fascista, nemmeno del primo, quello delle
origini? R. — Finché un movimento politico è in fase rivo-
luzionaria, le posizioni della « rivoluzione » culturale con quelle
politiche coincidono; poi però quando il movimento politico diventa
regime si burocratizza, e allora non può non scontrarsi con la cultura
che rimane sempre rivoluzio- naria e che non può assimilare come tale le
esigenze politi- che di un «partito». Ecco perché esistono punti di
contatro 169 o momenti di simbiosi tra affermazioni
marinettiane e fa- scismo politico dei primi anni, poi rallentati o
rilasciati quando si afferma l’« ordine romano », utile al regime,
ma speculare di un passatismo senza mezzi termini, e totale.
Marinetti tollera questa esigenza politica di Mussolini, ma non la
condivide od ammette in campo artistico e cultu- rale. Tuttavia Marinetti
era uomo che non confondeva ami- cizia ed ideologia: poteva combattere
con un amico per principi ideologici, anche violentemente, senza però
in- taccare l'amicizia, che rimaneva sempre e comunque. D. —
Resta oggi il futurismo? E resta come realtà artistica solamente, o anche
politica, nella sua dimensione d’espressione artistica? Senza fascismo,
che è finito ovvia- mente, e da tempo. Forse resta il futurismo, come
ten- sione di rinnovamento? R. — Sì, il futurismo resta,
credo, nella sua posizione di rinnovamento, o di indicazione nella
creazione di nuove forme, e di nuove idee, o di valori nuovi. Oggi si
contesta per distruggere senza dire quello che si vuole proporre in
sostituzione. Il futurismo aveva invece dato i suoi mani- festi. Volle
distruggere, ma propose ciò che voleva rico- struire. Anche oggi, per
quel che resta, il futurismo cerca un suo rinnovamento che si superi
continuamente. Oggi c'è molta saggistica, ma si vede poca poesia. Forse
manca l’entusiasmo, nonostante la grinta. Penso che esista an- cora
futurismo oggi, perché esiste ancora temperamento di novità, e di
rinnovamento. Perché esiste ancora una spinta vitale di « ossigeno ». E
l'opera deve avere un suo sangue, se si tratta d’opera d’arte. Un sangue
di cui deve vivere, o un sangue per cui possa vivere. É l’ossigeno è un
valore assoluto che resta, non si toglie, perché è ineliminabile.
Anche in bottiglia, nella plastica, rarefatto 0 alla luce del sole. Il
futurismo è un po’ come l'ossigeno, o l'anima o lo spirito del lavoro e
dell’opera, o della vita: è un po' il suo « entusiasmo ».
[Intervista u cura di Alberto Schiavo] Per quanto riguarda lo
svisceramento dei collegamenti fra Je correnti del futurismo indipendente
come movimen- ro artistico e culturale ed il fascismo come movimento
po- litico e sociale, particolarmente per quel che si riferisce al
carattere autonomo del futurismo torinese e al fascismo delle origini, è
ovvio che i tapporti intercotsi fra di loro furono lungi dall’essere
quelli di un matrimonio d'amore. Consistettero specificamente in taciti e
necessari accordi immaginati per pater dare vita a creazioni autentiche
che abbisognavano di un ambiente rispettoso dei motivi di una vera
rivoluzione (quella artistica e spirituale scatenata dal futurismo), in
un clima fascista che di rivoluzionario non ebbe in seguito che la sola
etichetta. Il futurismo torinese, nel tentativo di operare in
pie- na italianità, condivise nelia sua giusta misura taluni prin
cipî che il primo fascismo stabili quando provò a inte- grarsi nel campo
difficile della moderna civiltà europea. Alla stessa stregua e per
raggiungere gli stessi fini il futu- rismo piemontese trattò anche con
l’anarchismo e il co- munismo idealitario di Gramsci, sui quali ebbe una
consi- derevole influenza negli sviluppi dell’architettura.
Il senso altamente novatore di Fillia e la sua molte. plice
attività (stupefacente in una esistenza così breve) per: sonificano le
forme coerenti e concrete dei concetti più originali e più saldi delle
imprese del futurismo torinese. Figura rappresentativa dell’essere
istantaneo, Fillia non temporeggiava mai, viveva come una ruota, partiva
come una freccia. Propugnatore di quel futurismo mistico che per
ordinarie ragioni razionali ed estetiche militava in margine della Chiesa
cattolica apostolica e romana di quel l'epoca, egli affermava con rigare
di logica e con argomen- tazioni arditissime che la religione ha
relazione di somi- glianza con la geometria interna dell’arte. Misteri
dottri. nali da ricrearsi plastiicamente per dare forma concreta ai
nuovi concetti della pittura sacra erano per lui la Trinità,
171 la Redenzione e la Vergine. L’apostolato di Fillia
s'imme- desimava con quello del futurismo in cui si cercava una
forza di liberazione, e la trovava in quel movimento, cie- camente.
Originati da una geometria astratta superiore, i suoi dipinti
possiedono quella qualità rara di non essere visà, e perciò non ricavati
dal vero, ma di sorgere senza sha- vatura alcuna dal proprio io, e come
se l'artista non vi fosse per nulla, per cui aspettavamo ogni sua
scoperta con un senso di impazienza, di ansietà, perché Fillia non
ces- sava di inventare e di portare sempre più avanti i perfe- zionamenti
pittorici del futurismo. Tuttavia, una continui- tà è discernibile nella
sua arte che è, innanzitutto, di una grande purezza, di una grande
acconcezza, di una grande serenità. T colori si oppongono
l'uno all'altro e si sovrappon- gono con curve e frangie di corallo,
macchie di cielo, fan- tasticherie metafisiche, sogni astrusi. Opera di
contempla- tivo che accomuna sempre iutto e sempre con estrema
dolcezza, e dalla quale si spande una pace angelica che sembra
invalidare, apparentemente, taluni assiomi violen- ti della dottrina
futurista. Ma è invece la prova Iampante che il dinamismo di questa
scuola italiana non esclude quello stato di grazia dove i conflitti
diventano preghiere. Si tratta di fermare il nemico per ritrovare Ja
quiete, di combattere ferocemente per amare di un più grande amo-
re. Tale atteggiamento è proprio l’antitesi del sentimenta- lismo
romantico, dell’ebetismo della debolezza: esso con- voglia l’arte verso
quell'alta sfera mitica e visionaria che invade la mistica futurista.
Gli errori di pensiero che possono insinuarsi nella men- te di un
poeta come Fillia, che non può sempre ridurre tutto al controllo della
logica, non vanno interpretati nel lo stretto senso letterale. Il
movimento è irrefrenabile, talvolta irresistibile, porta oltre la matura
e si perde in un mondo di realtà fantasmagoriche. Nessuna
amarezza, nessuna amarezza siatene cetti si nascondeva in questa libertà
concettuale e della riflessione: vi era troppa gentilezza in questo cuore
di pittore e di poeta, troppa felicità per i suoi amici, perché si possa
at- tribuire un significato ironico alle sue composizioni sacre
come non hanno mancato di fare borghesi indirozzabili e bolsi dalle
maniche troppo lunghe, dalla mente inceppata. Ho buona speranza per
Fillia, per questo artista pen- satore che fu anche un provetto
artigiano; non mi rat- trista la sua morte prematura. Un suo misterioso
paesag- gio dell'ex raccolta Ferrari di Ginevra mi scopre un ci-
mitero e la scala rossa che lo vincolò in eterno con gli eroi: quello
stesso cimitero e quella stessa scala di Sant'E- lia. Distinguo la luna
bianca della sua grande dolcezza, e le cose della terra non reggono, sono
rovesciate su loro stesse. Le pitture religiose di Fillia sono un
richiamo allo spirituale puro, degli abbozzi di Paradiso. S’intende
che un tentativo di tal fatta non deve giungere al disprezzo della
cosa creata, dell’Incarmazione: ma non è il caso di Fillia le cui forme
della sua arte si disegnano, si creano e si distaccano dalla loro causa
prima. Tutto il lavoro dell’opera si riporta ad una giornata
ben definita della creazione dove gli uomini non sono ancora che allo
stato di abbozzo, ma dove la macchina respira già, dove i fantasmi girano
secondo una traietto- ria circolare, dove l'arcobaleno annuncia la
riconciliazione. Una siffatta pittura è infinitamente rispettosa,
il suo pudore è un perpetuo tremita davanti alla bellezza; essa
sprigiona cdelicatezze insospettate, scrupoli inauditi e non- dimeno una
audacia che le viene soffiata dallo spirito. Nonostante il suo atto
di fede nella macchina, Fillia è certamente un pittore spirituale. La
bellezza intrinseca del. le macchine corrispande ad un suo bisogno di
esattezza sovrumana, di perfezione nelle linee e negli spazi. E’
una dimostrazione pratica che consente all'uomo di disinca- gliare
la vera vita, di ricercare quegli elementi universali dell’arte che
scaturiscono nei momenti fecondi ed imperiali delle Nazioni e ne rendono
lo spirito eierno. Per non spappolarsi nella struttura, per non
sgreto- larsi alla radice, il futurismo è lui stesso alla ricerca
del- l'eterno. E’ ben vero che questa eternità non è sotto i nostri
passi, non è dietro di noi, ma davanti a noi, In questo senso tutti i
cristiani dovrebbero essere futuristi, diceva Fillia, perché meno legati
degli altri uomini al passato e al presente, e più ferventi
dell'avvenire. Questo richiamo ad una tradizione spirituale, questo
allenamento {secondo la felice definizione di Marinetti) non ha
nulla di necroforo, non intralcia lo sviluppo dell'arte ma stimo-
la, spinge in avanti, crea. Non si dimentichi perciò il con- tributo
molto importante di quella autentica tradizione che serve a ristabilire
l'equilibrio normale. Infatti, all’inizio Je forze novattici distruggono
talvolta, svelano uno sprezzo irragionevole del passato e di ciò che la
vera tradizione conserva pertanto di eternamente vivo. Un rifiuto
non controllato potrebbe anche andare a scapito del progresso
stesso e insabbiare per sempre l'incitamento che motiva nuove conquiste.
Non si negano gli elementi universali dell’arte passata perché non si
possono negare quelli del- l’arte nuova. L’opera di Fillia
rivela una tendenza perpetua verso il progresso nel senso più alto della
definizione. Trasfor- mandosi da una pitiura all’altra svolge senza
contraddi- zioni la sua sincerità primitiva. Un futurista non può
dunque negare la storia della sua opeta e tanto meno quel la del suo
movimento: egli porta il peso di un passato inventato che non può
rinnegare senza distruggersi. Questo passato inventato risale
certamente al di là del futurismo — che costituisce una specie di
dialettica dello spirito — e affre l’unica possibilità capace di
abbat- tere gli ostacoli. Il fiume precipita giù dalla cascata come
se vi prendesse nascita; in realtà la sorgente è al ghiacciaio. Il
futurismo ha radici italiane ed europee: il tempo aiuta a farle scoprire
senza remissione. Fillia è l'uomo intuitivo di una nuova era. Dalla
sua opera e dai suoi tentativi, come da quelli di Balla, di
Boccioni, di Prampolini, di Diulgheroff e di Benedetto, si stacca un’arte
pubblica universale che l'architettura fun- zionale rivela, contribuendo
efficacemente alla diffusione delle idee futuriste di Antonio Sant'Elia e
degli slanci del purismo di Le Corbusier. Nell’intento di realizzare ad ogni costo,
Fillia si ap- poggiò al Regime attraverso gli interventi efficaci di
Ma- rinetti. Però, non ho mai visto Fillia in camicia nera, ne lo
sentii mai parlare di politica nostrana. Parlava sol- ranto dell’Italia
che amava. Le due idee rispecchiano gli scopi e i metodi creativi di quel
movimento indipendente di buona lega che fu il futurismo torinese.
SARTORIS per conto dell'Editore Volpe dalle Arti
Grafiche Pedanesi Roma, Via Fontanesi, Luciano De Maria e Mauro Pedroni,
Aggiornamenti bibliografici sul futurismo, in Il Verri, Maria Drudi
Gambillo e Teresa Fiori, Archivi del futurismo, De Lu- ca, Roma
1959-1962, due volumi. Enrico Falqui, Bibliografia e iconografia
del futurismo, Sansoni, Firenze,Futurismo, a cura di Umbro Apollonio, Mazzotta,
Milano, I futuristi, a cura di Giuseppe Ravegnani, Nuova Accademia, Mi.
lano I manifesti del futurismo, Edizioni di « Lacerha », Firenze. I
manifesti del futurismo, Istituto Editoriale Italiano, Milano s.d.
{1919), quattro volumi. I nuovi poeti futuristi, Edizioni Futuriste
di « Poesia », Roma I poeti futuristi, Edizioni Futuriste di « Poesia »,
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italiana, a cura di Ruggero Jacobbi, Guarda, Parma Sintesi del futurismo:
storia e documsenti, a cura di Luigi Scrivo, Bulzoni, Roma 1968,
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di Mario Verdone, Officina Edizioni, Roma 1970. L'arte nella società.
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Feltrinelli, Milano Lucini e il futurismo, in Il Verri, Milano Alfieri e
Luigi Freddi, Catalogo della Mostra della Rivoluzione Fascista, P.N.F.,
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Belli, Kx, All'Insegna del Pesce d'Oro, Milano Fortune Bellonzi, Saggio sulla
poesia di Marinetti, Argalia, Urbino Bertolucci, I/ gesto futurista,
Bulzoni, Roma Birolli, Enrico Crispolti, Bernhard Heinz, Arte e fascismo
in Italia e Germania, Feltrinelli, Milano Bo, La rivoluzione mancata del
futurismo, in AA. VV., Staria della letteratura italiana, Garzanti,
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Trapani Cuomo, Alberto Sartoris e l'architettura italiana tra tragedia e
forme, Edizioni Kappa, Roma Felice, Mussolini il rivolazionario, Einaudi,
Torino Mussolini il fascista, Einaudi, Torino Intervista sul fascismo, Laterza,
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Milano. Cesare G. De Michelis, Il futurismo italiano in Russia, De
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liana, Volpe, Roma Eruli, Preistoria francese del futurismo, in Rivista di
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del fascismo, Laterza, Bari Giovanni Gentile, Origini e dottrina
del fascismo, Sansoni. Firenze Gregor, Il fascismo. Interpretazioni e
giudizi, Volpe, Roma Isnenghi, I{ mito della grande guerra da Marinetti a
Mala parte, Laterza, Bari Leeden, D'Annunzio a Fiume, Laterza, Bari
Lista, Marinetti et Tzara, in Les Lettres Nouvelles, Maltese, Storia dell’arte
in Italia Einaudi, Torino Marangoni, L'interventismo nella cultura.
Intellettuali e rivi ste del fascismo, Laterza, Bari Mariani, Il primo Marinetti, Le Monnier,
Firenze Martin, Fuzurist Art and Theory, Clarendon Press, Oxford
Ojetti, In Italia, Parte ha da essere italiana?, Mondadori, Milano Pavolini,
Cubismo, futurisma, espressionismo, Zanichelli, Bo- logna Pinottini, L'estetica
del futurismo. Revisioni storiografiche, Bulzoni, Roma Paggioli, Teoria
dell’arte d'avanguardia, 11 Mulino, Bologna, Prezzolini, Amici,
Vallecchi, Firenze Sanguinetti, Introduzione a Poesia del Novecento,
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cultura del Novecento attraversa le riviste, Eniaudi, Torino Siciliano,
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Milano Silva, Ideologia e arte del fascismo, Mazzotta, Milano Spagnoletti, Dal
« Leonardo » al futurismo, in Ulisse, feb- braio Poalazzeschi, Longanesi,
Milano Tallarico, Verifica del futurismo, Volpe, Roma Le «cento anime» di F.T.
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del Libro, Roma Vaccari, Vita e tumulti di Marinetti, Editrice Omnia,
Milano Verdone, Cinema e letteratura del futurismo, Edizioni di
Bian- co e nero, Roma Teatro del tempo futurista, Lerici, Roma Che cosa è
il futurismo, Astrolabio-Ubaldini, Roma Acquaviva, Le colonne d'Ercole della
modernità. Futurismo, Gastaldi, Milano Altomare, Incontri con Marinetti e il
futurismo, Corso, Roma Apollinaire, Lettere a Marinetti, All'Insegna del
Pesce d'Oro, Milano Benedetto, Futzrismo 100 x 100, Edizioni Arte Viva,
Roma Buccafusca, Studenti fascisti cantano così, Casella, Napoli
Paolo Buzzi, n e la Spirale, Edizioni fututiste di « Poesia », Ilano.
Francesco Cangiullo, Le serate futuriste, Ceschina, Milano, Carli, Fascismo
intransigente, Edizioni dell'Impero, Roma Corra, Sar; Dunn è morto, Einaudi,
Torino 1970. Fillia (Luigi Colombo), Il futurismo: ideologie,
realizzazioni e polemiche del Movimento Futurista Ttaliano, Sonzogno, Milano
Marinetti, Mafarka il futurista, Milano 1910. — Uccidiamo il chiaro
di luna, Milano La Battaglia di Tripoli,
vissuta e cantata, Milano Ll’aeroplano del papa, Milano. Guerra, sola igiene
del mondo, Milano. Otto anime in una bomba, Milano Democrazia futurista, Milano
Al di lè del comunitmo, Milano Lussuria velocità, Milano N tamburo di fuoco,
Milano. Gli indomabili, Piacenza. Futurismo e fascismo, Foligno Primo dizionario aereo, Milano Marinetti e il
futurismo, Roma Spagna veloce e toro futurista, Milano Il paesaggio e Vestetica
futurista della macchina, Firenze. Poemi simultanei futuristi, La Spezia. L'aeropoema
del golfo della Spezia, Milano. Il poema africano della Divisione «28 ottobre
», Milano. Mario Carli, proflo, Milano
Il poema di Torre Viscosa, Milano Patriottismo insetticida, Milano. ll
poema non umano dei tecnicismi, Roma L'esercito italiano, Roma. Cento uomini e
macchine della querra mussoliniana, Roma Quario d'ora di poesia della X Mas,
Milano Teoria e invenzione futurista,
Milano. La grande Milano tradizionale e futurista, Milano. Lettere ruggenti a
F. Balilla Pratella, Milano. Poesie a Beny, Torino. Gir RA l'esperienza
futurista Vallecchi, Firen- ze,Sanzin, fo e il futurismo, Istituto di
Propaganda Libraria, Milano 1976. Emilio Settimelli, Come
combatto, Edizioni d'arte e critica, Roma Ardengo Soffici, Primi
principi di un'estetica futurista, Vallecchi, Firenze Somenzi, Difendo il
futurismo, Edizioni A.R.T.E., Roma Tato raccontato da Tato, Zucchi, Milano. Futurismo
con e senza fascismo (A. Schiavo) 5 Soffici, Marinetti, Boccioni,
Russolo, Sant'Elia, Si- roni, Piatti, Futurismo e «guerra sola igiene
del mondo » 59 Carli, Bottai, Futurismo e socialismo 71
Tavolato, Volt, Marinetti, Futurismo e democrazia 87 Settimelli,
Marinetti, Futurismo e primo fascismo 97 Marinetti, Carli, Somenzi, « Secondo
futurismo » e fa- scismo-regime ili Corra, Govoni, Buzzi, Chiti,
Folgore, Futurismo di destra e di sinistra 131 Belloli, Benedetto,
Crali, Sartoris, Testizzonianze 145 Bibliografia 177 Armando
Carlini. Keywords: filosofia fascista, Bovio, Locke, senso, esperienza, il mito
del realismo, la categoria dello spirito, animus e spiritus, filosofia
italiana, storia della filosofia romana, l’ambasciata di Carneade a Roma, la
antichissima sapienza degl’italici, la scuola di pitagora, sicilia e la magna
grecia, geist, ghost, spirito, animo, spirito oggetivo, Bosanquet, testi di
filosofia ad uso dei licei, aristotele, il principio logico, Cartesio, il
problema di cartesio, senso ed esperienza, storia della filosofia, avvivamento
alla filosofia, i grandi filosofi – mondatori – the great and the minor -- Refs.:
Luigi Speranza, “Grice e Carlini” – The Swimming-Pool Library.
Grice e Carmando – Roma – filosofia italiana
(Roma). Charmander -- According to Seneca, Carmando wrote a book on comets.
Grice e Caro: l’implicatura
conversazionale dell’interpretare -- interpretante, interpretato -- filosofia
italiana – Luigi Speranza (Roma). Filosofo italiano. Grice: “Caro
likes ‘interpretant,’ I spent various tutorials going through Aquino’s
Commentarium’ on the ‘peri hermeneias’ – my tutees were fascinated by the fact
that while the Grecian hermeneias is figurative – after Hermes, some say –
‘inter-pretatio’ is not!” -- “I love Caro – he has philosophised on Davidson’s
philosophising, notably Davidson’s idea of the interpretant, an idea Davidson
borrowed – but never returned – from Peirce!” Insegna a Roma. Si occupa di filosofia morale, di libero
arbitrio, teoria dell'azione e storia della scienza. Ha difeso la teoria detta
" naturalismo liberale", già oggetto di discussione nelle letteratura
specialistica sull’argomento. È membro dei comitati scientifici delle riviste Rivista
di Estetica e Filosofia e questioni
pubbliche. Collabora con Il Sole 24 Ore, e ha scritto per The Times, La
Repubblica, La Stampa e il manifesto. Presidente della Società Italiana di
Filosofia Analitica (SIFA) dal al. È
vicepresidente della Consulta Nazionale di Filosofia. Ha condotto
ZettelFilosofia in movimento, programma televisivo RAI dedicato alla
filosofia. L'asteroide 5329 Decaro è
chiamato così in suo onore; “Dal punto di vista dell'interprete. La filosofia
di Davidson, Roma, Carocci); Il libero arbitrio, Roma-Bari, Laterza); Azione,
Bologna, Il Mulino); La logica della libertà, Roma, Meltemi); Normatività,
Fatti, Valori” (Macerata, Quodlibet); Scetticismo. Storia di una vicenda filosofica”
(Roma, Carocci). Siamo davvero liberi? Le neuroscienze e il mistero del libero
arbitrio (Torino, Codice). La filosofia analitica e le altre tradizioni (Roma,
Carocci). Bentornata Realtà: Il nuovo
realismo (Torino, Einaudi,. Quanto siamo responsabili? Filosofia, neuroscienze
e società” (Torino, Codice,. Biografie convergenti: venti ircocervi filosofici,
disegni di Guido Scarabottolo, Milano-Udine, Mimesis). Cos’è
il nuovo realismo [“What is the new realism”], Mimesis, Milano,
forthcoming.2) Azione [“Action”] , Il Mulino, Bologna, Il libero arbitrio. Un ’ introduzione [
“ Free Will. An Introduction ” ], Laterza, Roma-Bari); Dal punto di vista de
ll’int erprete. Il pensiero di Donald Davidson [ “ From
theInterpreter s Point of View. Donald Davidson s Thoug
ht”], Carocci, Roma
Interpretazioni e cause [“Interpretations and Causes”] , Doctoral
dissertation, Università diRoma. Editor (with M. Mori - E. Spinelli)
of La libertà umana: storia di un’id ea, Carocci,Roma,
forthcoming.2) Editor (with Lavazza – Sartori) of
Quanto siamo responsabili? Filosofia,neuroscienze e società, Codice,
Torino Marraffa) of La filosofia di Martino, special issue of
Paradigmi, Editor (with L. Illetterati) of a special issue of Verifiche
on “ Classical German Philosophy. New Research Perspectives between Analytic
Philosophy and the Pragmatist Tradition”) Editor (with S. Gozzano)
of a special issue of Rivista di filosofia on “The philosophy
ofconsciousness, ” Editor (with M. Ferraris) of Bentornata
realtà. Il nuovo realismo in discussione, Einaudi,Torino) Editor
(with S. Poggi), La filosofia analitica e le altre tradizioni, Carocci,
Roma) Guest editor, Naturalismo, special issue of
Rivista di Estetica, 44, 2010 (with C. Barberoand A. Voltolini)
Editor of The Architecture of Reason. Epistemology, Agency, and Science,
Carocci,Roma 2 (with Egidi) Editor of Siamo davvero liberi? Le
neuroscienze e il mistero del libero arbitrio,Codice, Torino) (with Lavazza and
Sartori).11) Guest editor of E’ naturale essere naturalisti?,
special issue of Etica e politica, (with C. Barbero - A.
Voltolini).12) Editor of Scetticismo. Storia di una vicenda
filosofia, Carocci, Roma ( Spinelli)
Editor of La mente e la natura, Fazi, Roma (Italian version of Naturalismin
Question ) (with D. Macarthur) Editor of the Italian version of H.
Putnam, The Fact/Value Dicothomy, Fazi, Roma) Editor of
Normatività, fatti, valori, Quodlibet, Macerata, 2003 (essays by G.H.
vonWright, J. Hornsby, R. Fogelin, et alii ) (with Rosaria Egidi and Massimo De
ll‟ Utri).16) Editor of Logica della libertà [ “ The Logic of
Free dom”], Meltemi, Roma) -- contains the Italian translation of essays
by A. Ayer, R. Chisholm, P.F. Strawson, P. vanInwagen, H. Frankfurt)
Guest editor of “ Libertà e Deter minismo” [ “ Freedom and
Determinism ” ], specialissue of Paradigmi, Presentazione” del numero
speciale di Paradigmi (25, 2013) dedicato a La filosofia di
Ernesto De Martino, “Machiavelli e Lucrezio ”, postface to A.
Brown, Machiavelli e Lucrezio. Fortuna elibertà nella Firenze del
Rinascimento, Carocci, Roma, 2 “Metafisica e naturalism o: una entente
cordiale? ”, Sistemi intelligenti, “Galileo e il platonismo fisico -
matematico”, in R. Chiaradonna (ed), Il platonismo e le scienze, Carocci,
Roma “Introduzione” (with R. Chiaradonna) to R. Chiaradonna (ed.), Il
platonismo e le scienze,Carocci, Roma Naturalismo nel mirino: ma quale
intendiamo? ”, Vita e pensiero, Autonomia della filosofia e neuroscienze,”
Rivista di Filosofia, “ Libero arbitrio e neuroscienze,” in A. Lavazza, G.
Sartori (a cura di), Neuroetica,Il Mulino, Bologna “ Filosofia della
mente,” in Dizionario della mente Treccani, Istituto de ll
EnciclopediaItaliana Italiana, Roma “Ne uro-mania e natura lismo”
(commento, su invito, a ll articolo target di CristianoCastelfranchi e Fabio
Paglieri) (con A. Lavazza), Giornale italiano di psicologia, “ Il migliore dei
naturalismi possibili Etica & Politica / Ethics & Politics, (with
A. Voltolini).14) “ Psicologia, intenzionalità, scopi: un punto di
vista filosofic o,” (invited commentary to atarget article by C.
Castelfranchi and F. Paglieri), Giornale italiano di psicologia, “ Libertà e
responsabilità mora le,” in Enciclopedia del Terzo Millenio,
Istitutode ll Enciclopedia Italiana, Roma
“ Le neuroscienze cognitive e l'enigma del libero a
rbitrio,” in M. Di Francesco – M.Marraffa (a cura
di), Il soggetto. Scienze della mente e natura dell ’ io,
Bruno Mondadori, Milano “ Neuroetica e libero a rbitrio,” in S.
Bacin (a cura di), Etiche antiche e moderne, Il Mulino,Bologna
Introduction to the Italian translation of John Dupré, Human Nature and
the Limits ofScience, Laterza, Roma-Bari, 2007 (with Telmo Pievani).12
) “ Temi scotistici nella discussione contemporanea sul libero a
rbitrio,” Quaestio “ Gazzaniga, Hauser e la fallacia dei cromosomi
mora li,” Micromega (“ Almanacco di scienz e” ) “ Filosofia, musica
e asc olto,” Rivista di storia della filosofia, “ Il ritorno dello
scientismo,” in M. Failla (a cura di) “B ene navigavi ”. Studi in onore
di Franco Bianco, Quodlibet, Macerata “ Il naturalismo scientifico
contemporaneo: caratteri e pr oblemi,” in P. Costa - F.
Michelini(eds.), Natura senza fine, EDB, Bologna Causazione mentale e plura lismo,”
Iride, (with MassimoMarraffa).18 ) “ Due concetti di libero
arbitr io,” in R. Calcaterra (ed.), Le ragioni del conoscere
ede ll’agire. Scritti in onore di Rosaria Egidi, Franco Angeli, Milano “
Scienza e libertà: due comuni fraintendimenti, SISSA NEWS, Quattro tesi su filosofia e scienza,”
Sistemi intelligenti, “ Frankfurt, Harry Gor don” “ Teoria de
ll az ione” “ Scetticismo moderno e contemporane o” (vol. 10, pp. 10115-
10119), in Enciclopedia filosofica di Gallarate, Bompiani, Milano Nozick,
Strawson e lillusione della libertà,” in G. Pellegrino - I.
Salvatore (eds.), Nozick . Identità personale, libertà e
realismo morale, LUISS University Press, Roma “ Questioni metafisiche: Dio e la libertà,”
in A. Coliva (ed.), Filosofia analitica. Temi e problemi, Carocci, Roma
with G. De Anna).24 ) “ Davidson sulla libertà umana,” Iride,
“ L'inscindibilità di fatti e valori in etica, in economia e nelle scienze
natura li,” in troductionto Fatto valore. Fine di una dicotomia (Italian
translation of H. Putnam, The Fact/Value Dicothomy ), Fazi, Roma “
Naturalismo e scetticismo: il caso del libero a rbitrio,” in R.
Lanfredini (ed.), Il problemamente-corpo, Guerini, Milano, “
Responsabilità e sce tticismo” in Egidi - De ll Utri - De Caro (eds.),
Normatività, fatti, valori, Quodlibet, Macerata “ Olismo e interpretazione
radica le,” in M. De ll Utri (a cura di), Olismo, Quodlibet,Macerata
2002, pp. 17-36.29 ) “ Il naturalismo fisicalistico: un dogma
filosofico?,” in P. Parrini (ed.), Conoscenzae cognizione, Guerini, Milano “
Teorie de l’int erpretazione e criteri di correttezza,” in C. Montaleone
(ed.), Parole fuorilegge. L’idiotismo linguistico tra
filosofia e letteratura, Cortina, Milano
“ Liber tà,” Paradigmi, 58, 2002, pp. 67-84.32
) “ Forme dello scetticismo e interpre tazione,”
Fenomenologia e società, “ Contro la
centralità delle regole: l esternalismo di Donald Da vidson,” in
Atti della Società Italiana di Filosofia del Linguaggio, Novecento, Palermo, Sui
presupposti sociali della responsabilità, «Filosofia e questioni pubbliche, “
Per un connessionismo non eliminazionista, ” Sistemi Intelligenti,
“ Varianti de llolismo. Aspetti della teoria analitica della traduz
ione,” Colloquium Philosophicum, “ Libertà metafisica e
responsabilità mora le,” Paradigmi, “ Prese ntazione,”
Paradigmi, “ Determinismo e
filosofia della mente contemporanea,” in M. Cini (ed.), Caso, necessità,
libertà, Cuen, Napoli “ Monismo anomalo ed epife nomenismo,” Il
Cannocchiale, “ Il lungo viaggio di Hilary Putnam,” Lingua e
Stile, XXXI, “ Epistemologia e interpretazione: l esternalismo di Donald Da
vidson,” Rivista di filosofia, “ Il platonismo di Ga lileo,”
Rivista di filosofia, “ La discriminazione tra la scienza e l'arte: un problema
per il relativismo epistemic o,” Paradigmi, Review of S.
Nannini, Naturalismo cognitivo. Per una teoria materialistica della mente,in
Iride, Review of L. Fonnesu, Storia dell'etica contemporanea. Da Kant alla
filosofia analitica,in Iride, Review of A. Massarenti, Il lancio
del nano e altri esercizi di filosofia minima, in Bollettino della
Società filosofica italiana, Review of M. De ll Utri, L’inganno
assurdo, in Epistemologia, Review of Carlo Montaleone, Don
Chisciotte o la logica della follia, in Bollettino della Società
filosofica italiana, Review of Mario Ricciardi - Corrado Del B o (a cura
di), Pluralismo e libertà fondamentali, in Iride, Review of
Giacomo Marramao, Minima temporalia, Iride, in Iride Review
of Donald Davidson, Subjective, Intersubjective, Objective, in Iride,
Review of Massimo Marraffa, Filosofia e psicologia, in Epistemologia,
Review of Nicla Vassallo, Teoria della conoscenza, in Epistemologia “
Wittgenstein su mente e linguagg io” [Review of R. Egidi (ed.)
Wittgenstein: Mind and Language ], in Rivista di filosofia, Review of
Mark Pickering (ed.), Science as Practice and Culture, in Archives
Internationale s d’ Histoire Des Sciences, Review of Marc De
Mey, The Cognitive Paradigm. An Integrated Understanding ofScientific
Development, in Archives Internationales d ’ Histoire
Des Sciences, 1Review of M. De ll Utri, Le vie del realismo. Verità,
linguaggio e conoscenza in Hilary Putnam, in Physis, Review of “ Il
naturalismo filosofico di Willard Van Orman Quine ” [review of:
W.V.O.Quine, La scienza e i dati di senso, Roma Tempo presente, Review of “ Scienza e
relativismo: un ossimoro? ” [review of: R. Egidi (ed.), La
svoltarelativistica nell'epistemologia contemporanea, Milano Tempo presente,
Review of “ E' ancora possibile una storiografia dell'arte? ” [review of:
H. Belting, La fine della storia dell'arte o la libertà dell'arte, Torino
Tempo presente,: Università della Calabria, Conference of Italian Association
of Philosophy ofMind. Commentator of the main speaker, Tim Crane.May 16, 2006:
participant in the debate on “ Semiotics and Phenomenology of the Se lf,” Roma,
Società Italiana di Filosofia.May 10, 2006: University of L Aquila. Lecture
on “ Free Will and Causal Determinism ”. Ravenna Scienza, “ Neurobiology
of Free Will: Is Our Will Free? ”.Invited speaker. Paper: “ The Philosophical
Mystery of Free W ill”. Roma, Auditorium “ Parco della Musica,”
Festival of Science. Lecture on: “ Gödel Theorems and Free will” (with
Rebecca Goldstein).: Reggio Emilia, Istituto Banfi. Conference “ Nature
and Free dom”; invited spekaer for the section “ The naturalization of free
dom” (commentators A. Benini eS.F. Magni). Nature and Free dom”. December
2, 2005: University “ Ca Fosca ri,” Venice. International
Conference, “ DonaldDavidson: Language - Meaning - Mind - Action ”; invited
speaker. Paper: “F reedom andInference to the Best Explanation ”.Sassari,
Sassari Association of Philosophy and Science. Lecture on “ Freedom and Scien
ce”. Vita – Salute “
San Raffae le” University, Cesano Maderno (Milano), First Meeting
of the Italian Association of Philosophy of Mind ; organizer and
chairperson. University of Genoa, International conference, “ Mental Processes
”;relatore invitato per la sezione “ Action and Rationality ” Hornsby).September 29-30, 2005: SISSA,
Trieste. Conference “ Neurophysiology and Free W ill”; invited
speaker. Paper: “ Etica e libero arbitrio ”. University of Trento,
International Conference, “ Agency and Causation in theHuman Sciences ”.
Invited speaker (paper: “F reedom and the Social Sciences ” ).June 1, 2005: “
Vita e Salute - San Raffae le” University, Milano. International
Conference, “ ADay for Freedom? An International Conference on Free W ill”.
Discussant di Hughes.May 12, 2005: University of Florence, International
Conference “ Philosophy, Neurophysiology and Free will” On the
compatibility of philosophy and scienc e”.Istituto di studi americani, Roma,
International Conference, “ Pragmatismand Analytic Philosophy: Differences and
Interac tions” (invited speaker). Paper: “B eyondScientific Natura
lism”. University of Piemonte orientale, Department of HumanisticStudies.
Three lectures on Freedom and Nature. November 26, 2004:
University of Florence - Department of Philosophy. Lecture on TheConcept of
Naturalism. November 16, 2005: University of Pavia – Giason
del Maino College. Lecture on TheContemporary Debate on Free Will .
University "Vita e Salute – San Raffae le,”
Milano. Lecture on Freedomand Nature. University of Piemonte Orientale,
Vercelli, Department ofHumanistic Studies, conference on “ Scientists and
Philosophers and the Study ofComplex Sy stems”. September 23-25: Genova,
VI International Conference of the Italian Society of AnalyticPhilosophy
(member of the scientific committee). Rome. International Symposium
"Questions on Naturalism"
Rome. “ Davidson on Human Free dom”. Conference on DonaldDavidson,
Department of Philosophy, Università Roma Tre (Rome. Discussant of Akeel
Bilgrami. Workshop at LUISS University.September 29, 2003, Florence. Paper: “
Metaphysical Libertarianism ”. Conference on Robert Nozick s philosophy,
Department at the University of Florence (speaker).September 15, 2003, Sassari.
Lecture on “ Logica e retorica ” [Logic and Rhetoric].Department of
Foreign Languages and Literatures, University of Sassari (invited lecturer).
May7, 2003, Siena. Paper on “ Naturalism and Free dom”. Workshop on
The Free Will problem. Department of Philosophy, Università di
Siena Sassari. Workshop on Skepticism and the Reemergence and the Self ,”
Department of Philoosophy, Università di Sassari, (discussant).October 12,
2002, Messina. Paper on “ Naturalism and Intentionality ”. Annual Meeting
of theItalian Society of Philosophy of Language (speaker).May 14, 2002,
Cosenza. Lecture: Memoria e identità [Memory and Identity].Department of
Philosophy, Università di Cosenza.May 6, 2002, Florence. Paper: “ Freedom and
Moral Responsibility: Mysteries orIllusions? ”. Florence Rome. Lecture La
teoria della conoscenza nel Novecento [TheTheory of Knowledge in the Twentieth
Century]. Italian Society of Philosophy (invitedspeaker)February 5, 2002, Rome.
Paper on Il fondamento filosofico dei diritti umani [ThePhilosophical
Foundation of Human Rights]. Conference “ The Question of HumanRights Today,”
Università di Roma “ La Sapienza ” (sp eaker).January 16, 2002, Pavia. Lecture
on Responsabilità e causalità: critiche a Strawson e Frankfurt [ “
Responsability and Causality: Some Criticisms of Strawson and Frankfur
t”]. Department of Philosophy, Università di Pavia (invited speaker). Cosenza.
Lecture on “ Ragioni e ca use” [ “ Reasons and causes ” Calabria ( Padua.
Lecture on “ Freedom and Naturalism,” Department of
Philosophy,Università di Padova (invited speaker).May 8, 2001, Milan. Paper on
“ Interpretations and Criteria of Correctness ”.Conference:
Interpretation and Correcteness, Università Statale di Milano (Bologna. Paper
on Causality and Naturalism. Annual Meeting of the ItalianSociety of Analytic
Philosophy, Università di Bologna (invited speaker).April 10, 2001, Rome. Paper
on Forms of Causation. Annual Meeting of the Italian Societyof
Philosophy, Università Roma Tre Siena.
What P.F. Strawson Hasn’ t Proved . Annual Conference ofthe Italian
Society of Analytic Philosophy (Rome. Paper on “ Freedom and the Self ”.
Conference: The Nature of theSelf, between Philosophy and Psychology,
Università Roma Tre Rome. Paper on “ Van Inwagen s Consequence Argument ”.Workshop:
Freedom and Necessity, Università Roma Tre Florence. Paper on “ What we should
mean with the Word Person” (with Maffettone). Conference Le
ragioni del corpo [The Reasons of the Body]. Istituto Gramsci Rome. Paper on “
Davidson on the Conceptual Schemes ”.Workshop: Talking with Donald Davidson,
Università Roma Tre (organizer and speaker).December 20, 1999, Rome. Speaker
with D. Donald Davidson at the presentation of the book M. De Caro (ed.),
Interpretations and Causes. New Perspectives on Donald Dav idson’s Philosophy,
Università Roma Tre Rome. Paper on “ Against an Alleged Refutation of Kripke
sSkeptical Argument ”. Conference: Facts and Norms, IV National
Conference of theItalian Society of Analitic Philosophy, Università Roma Tre
Palermo. Paper on “ Davidson on Following a Rule ”.Conference: The Linguistic
Rule. Conference of the Italian Society of Philosophy ofLanguage Rome. Paper
on Is Libertarianism About Free Will Scientifically Acceptable?.
Conference: Determinism and Freedom, Università Roma Tre(organizer and
speaker), Bologna. Paper on “ The Roots of Epistemic Skepticism ”.Conference:
Science, Philosophy, and Common Sense, III National Conference of theItalian
Society of Analitic Philosophy, Bologna (Rome. Lecture on Freedom and
Necessity. Seminar of theInterdipartimental Reasearch Center on Scientific
Methodology (invited speaker).October 17-19, 1996, Rome. Paper on “ G.H. von
Wright on the Mind-Body Proble m”. Conference The Study of Mankind in
George Henrik von Wright , Università RomaTre Rome. Paper on “ Davidson on
Holism and SemanticExterna lism”. Conference: Perspectives on Holism,
CNR Roma (organizer andspeaker). Rome. Paper on “ Galileo s method ”.
Conference: Philosophies of Nature from the Renaissance to the Twentieth
Century, Università Roma “ LaSapienza ” Rome. Paper on “ Davidson on
skepticism”. Davidson’s
philosophy, Università di Roma “ La Sapienza ” Lucca. Paper on
Logic and Philosophy of Science: Problems and Perspectives. Triennal Meeting of
Italian Society of Logic and Philosophy ofScience (speaker). November 30, 1991,
Rome. Paper on “ Perspectives of Rea lism”. Lecture at the Departmentof Philosophy,
Università di Roma “ La Sapienza ”Rome. Paper on “W ittgenstein and the
Philosophy of Mind ”.Conference: Wittgenstein on Mind and Language, Università
Roma Tre (speaker). Grice: “When we taught De Interpretation with
Austin, a tutee would ask ‘hermeneias’? Austin thought that Heidegger’s attempt
to link hermeneia (to interpret) with Hermes was far fetched, so we left it at
that!” Mario De Caro. Caro. Keywords: interpretare, Davidson, Putnam,
“derivative Old-World philosopher focusing on New-World philosophers like
Putnam or Davidson!”, interpretatione, peri hermeneias, Davidson on Grice –
Grice on Putnam on Grice ‘too forma’ – Davidson on Grice – ‘a nice derangement
of epitaphs’ Grice on Davidson on intending: conversational implicature theory
too social to be true: ‘intending’ ENTAILS belief, does not IMPLICATE it!
Pears, D. F. Pears. – P. F. Strawson and H. P. Grice on ‘free’ – Actions and
Events --.- Refs.: Luigi Speranza,
“Grice e Caro” – The Swimming-Pool Library.
Grice
e Caronda: all’isola -- Roma – filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza (Catania).
Filosofo italiano. According to Giamblico di Calcide, a Pythagorean, one of
those who studied with Pythagoras himself. He achieved a repulation as a
legislator. It is said that when he found out he had accidentally broken one of
his own laws, he committed suicide. Whether he was ever a Pythagorean at all is
now widely questioned. Substantial portions of a work on laws attributed to him
survive.
Grice e Carravetta: l’implicatura
conversazionale -- filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza (Lappano).
Filosofo italiano. Moved to the New World. Note
Peter Carravetta, Del postmoderno., by Alessandro Carrera iawa-West welcomes Peter Carravetta and
Marisa Frasca on Saturday, February 14,
at Sidewalk Cafe NYC IAWA’s Open
Reading Series Featuring Peter Carravetta & Marisa Frasca February 14, Filosofia Letteratura Letteratura Filosofo del XX secoloFilosofi
italiani del XXI secolo Poeti italiani del XX secolo Poeti italiani del XXI
secoloTraduttori italiani 1951 10 maggio. Grice: “Carravetta has been stealing
the Italian voice of Italian philosophers, or rather silencing it!” -- Pietro
Carravetta. Keywords. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Grice e Carravetta” – The
Swimming-Pool Library. Tractatus semeiotico-philosophicus – the opus magnum,
almost, of Grice – or Speranza. – The Swimming-Pool Library. Caravetta.
Grice e Carulli: l’implicatura
conversazionale di GIANO -- filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza (Bari).
Filosofo italiano. Grice: “I like Carulli – he philosophises on things we do
not philosophy at Oxford, such as menstruation – or piegaturi, as Speranza
prefers, since this is plural – ‘delle mestruazioni’.” Grice: “But Carulli has
also philosophised on some anti-Griceian themes: my ‘fiducia’ becomes his
‘sfiducia;’ my ‘ragione’ becomes his ‘sragione’! Delightful!” – Grice: “When I
philosophised on “Not,” or “Not I!” alla Beckett – I wouldn’t realise these are
negative implicatures – ‘negative implicatures of ‘not’ – Carulli speaks of
‘negative reflections on unaffirmation’!” “Genius!” – Grice: “Carulli can play
with word: ‘il ‘mito’ della inatualitta ‘ di X’ – is this equivalent or, as I
prefer, a mere vehicle for the cancellable implicature: ‘la attualita’ di X’?!”
– Grice: “Carulli knows how to subtitle: his ‘sfiducia e sragione’ is not just
that but a Spinozian double treatise, like Witters’s abhandlung – cfr.
Speranza’s “Tractatus semeiotico-philosophicus”. Studia a Bari, una città
tradizionalmente soggetta allo storiografismo, all'impegno cattolico e al
marxismo. Produce una filosofia aliena ai grandi inganni e refrattaria alla
celebrazione dei suoi miti -- la democrazia, i diritti, la socialità, il debolismo
-- con un'inconsueta attenzione alla forma, seguendo la scuola della cosiddetta
critica della cultura, da Nietzsche in poi, unendo gli epigoni di quello ai
moralisti. Partito da posizioni di anti-storicismo puro, culminato in un
Benjamin schiacciato sulla im-politicità di ritorno della sua filosofia in
“Oggettività dell'impolitico: riflessioni negative a partire da Benjamin”
(Genova, Il Melangolo). Così come da un'analisi eterodossa dell'ultimo
Schelling, De contemptu, Dello Schelling tardo (Genova, Il Melangelo) è giunto
ad esiti originali con “Metafisica delle mestruazioni” (Genova, Il Melangolo),
dove si sottrae il fenomeno femminile alle analisi socio-antropologiche per
riconsegnarlo alla sua radice metafisica. Il discorso sul cristianesimo ritorna
in “Sfiducia e sragione. Trattato teologico-politico” (Napoli, La Scuola di
Pitagora), dove si riprende inoltre la critica della democrazia. Il
cristianesimo è visto come una forma culturale stanca e abitudinaria, ma in
grado di reggere con la sua apatia allo scontro con l'Islam. Si affaccia la
verità ontologica del “ente” in diminuzione che non giungono mai
all'annullamento definitivo; una verità che lo distanzia dall'eternità dell’
“essente” come pure dai cultori dell'annientamento. La sua filosofia, centrata ossessivamente
sugli stessi temi, può essere idealmente divisa secondo un'altra direttrice,
volta alla ri-costruzione critica pionieristica di su amico Sgalambro. In
quest'ambito pubblica “Caro misantropo. Saggi e testimonianze per Sgalambro”
(Napoli, La Scuola di Pitagora); Introduzione a Sgalambro” (Genova, Il
Melangolo), e “La piccola verità. Quattro saggi su Sgalambro” (Milano,
Mimesis). Altre opere:“Lettera in La felicità? Prove didattiche di studenti
“tieffini” in formazione, Chiara Gemma, Barletta, Cafagna. Gianluca Veneziani,
Storia, verità e politica. Perché Benjamin non è un marxista, in Libero, De
contemptu, su alessiocantarella. Davide D'Alessandro, Alighieri, Harry Potter e
le mestruazioni: l'idea bellicosa di editoria di Regazzoni, su il foglio
Alessio Cantarella, Sfiducia e sragione, su alessiocantarella, Davide
D'Alessandro, Ratzinger, Bergoglio e l'Abitudine al Cristianesimo, su il
foglio. Pier Francesco Corvino, Religio
Medici. Andrea Comincini, Per una interpretazione di Dio e del Contemporaneo,
su scena illustrata.com. alessio cantarella. Sgalambro, un metafisico
distruttore, in La Sicilia. Corriere del
Mezzogiorno, Sgalambro, “impiegato di filosofia” contro i luoghi comuni, in Il
Mattino, Sgalambro, filosofo pessimista che sape come godersi la vita, in
Libero, Luca Farruggio, Una preziosa “Introduzione a Sgalambro” -- Davide
D'Alessandro, Cara “Italian Theory”, ricordati di Sgalambro, su il foglio,
Introduzione a Sgalambro su rai playradio. Alessio Cantarella, su
alessiocantarella. Alessandro, Uno Sgalambro non isolato, tra Cacciari e
Severino, su il foglio, convenzionali.wordpress.com, Sgalambro e le piccole
verità, su lgiornale. Sgalambro, l’esistenza e il peso di dio, su scena
illustrata.com. Sgalambro, il filosofo che ama la canzone, in La Gazzetta del
Mezzogiorno. Giano (latino: Ianus) è il dio
degli inizi, materiali e immateriali, ed è una delle divinità più antiche e più
importanti della religione romana, latina e italica. Solitamente è raffigurato
con due volti (il cosiddetto Giano Bifronte), poiché il dio può guardare il
futuro e il passato. Nel caso del Giano quadrifronte, le quattro facce sono
rivolte ai quattro punti cardinali. Busto di Giano conservato
presso i Musei Vaticani. Caratteristiche della divinità Modifica Etimologia
Modifica Quadrigato romano recante l'effigie di Giano. Circa 220 a.C. Già
gli antichi mettevano il nome del dio in relazione al movimento: Macrobio e
Cicerone lo facevano derivare dal verbo ire "andare", perché secondo
Macrobio il mondo va sempre, muovendosi in cerchio e partendo da sé stesso a sé
stesso ritorna[1]. Gli studiosi moderni hanno confermato questa relazione
stabilendo una derivazione dal termine ianua, "porta"[2], ma è con
Georges Dumézil che il senso si precisa: il nome Ianus deriverebbe dalla radice
indoeuropea *ei-, ampliata in *y-aa- con il significato di
"passaggio" che, attraverso una forma *yaa-tu, ha prodotto anche
l'irlandese ath, "guado"[3]. In passato non sono mancate tuttavia
ipotesi alternative, come quella che voleva il nome derivato da una più antica
forma *Dianus, da mettere in relazione con la dea Diana e quindi derivato
anch'esso dalla stessa radice del termine latino dies, "giorno"[4].
Dumezil nota anche l'appellativo di 'mattutino' con cui Orazio si rivolge al
dio in modo semiserio (Serm.). Tale appellativo tuttavia deporrebbe
indifferentemente a favore di entrambe le ipotesi etimologiche esposte. Il suo
nome in greco è Ιανός (Ianós). È il primo a portare il naso con profilo
romano (il classico naso a becco d'uccello). La figura del Dio Giano, come
appena accennato, è prettamente romana e la sua origine non si può far risalire
alla mitologia greca. Nella mitologia etrusca la divinità più prossima a Ianus
è Culsans[5], dio delle porte e dei passaggi[6][7], anch’esso bifronte, con un
nome simile ("ianua" significa porta in latino, come "culs"
in etrusco) e legato al concetto di passato e futuro, ma con caratteristiche
non del tutto sovrapponibili. Essendo pochissime le informazioni in nostro
possesso sui culti dell'Italia preromana non possiamo far risalire con certezza
Giano a qualche divinità italica. Una possibilità da tenere in
considerazione è che la figura di Giano sia stata ispirata da quella di Ušmu,
un dio sumero a due facce, altrimenti chiamato Isimud o, in piena età
babilonese, Ansar. Epiteti Modifica Asse con l'effigie di Giano e
la prora di una nave. Circa 240-225 a.C. Come tutte le divinità romane, Giano
era chiamato con diversi epiteti, che testimoniano la sua particolare rilevanza
all'interno del pantheon: Divum Deus (Dio degli Dei) Divum Claviger (Dio
Clavigero) Divum Pater (Padre degli Dei) Ianus Bifrons (Giano bifronte) Ianus
Cerus (Giano creatore) Ianus Consivius (Giano procreatore) Ianus Pater (Giano
padre) Pater matutinae (Padre del mattino) Ianus Vicilinus (Giano Vigilante)
Natura del dio Modifica Giano è una divinità esclusivamente romano-italica, la
più antica tra gli Dei nazionali, gli Di indigetes, invocata spesso insieme a
Iuppiter. Fu, insieme a Quirino, l'unico dio romano a non essere assimilato a
divinità ellenistiche. Il suo culto è probabilmente antichissimo e risale
ad un'epoca arcaica, in cui i culti dei popoli italici erano in gran parte
ancora legati ai cicli naturali della raccolta e della semina. È stato
sottolineato da più autori, fin dal secolo XIX (Vedi Il ramo d'oro), come Giano
fosse probabilmente la divinità principale del pantheon romano in epoca arcaica
ed anche Sant'Agostino nel suo De Civitate Dei (VII, 9) ricorda che “ad Ianum
pertinent initia factorum” e come perciò al Dio competa “omnium initiorum
potestatem”. In particolare rimarrebbe traccia di questo fatto nell'appellativo
Ianus Pater che permase anche in epoca classica. Giano nell'epoca arcaica
era semplicemente il dio legato ai cicli naturali, poi con il passare del tempo
il suo mito divenne sempre più complesso. Nei frammenti superstiti del
Carmen Saliare Giano è salutato con particolare enfasi come padre e dio degli
dei stessi: «divum +empta+ cante, divum deo supplicate» (IT)
«cantate lui, il padre degli dei, supplicate il dio degli dei»
(fragmentum 1) Tale dato è confermato dal fatto che per i romani Giano non era
figlio di alcun'altra divinità (ad esempio Giove è figlio di Saturno), ma,
proprio per la sua qualità di pater divorum, egli era sempre stato, immanente,
fin dall'origine di ogni cosa. Così è che Giano, come lo stesso ci racconta per
bocca di Ovidione i Fasti (I, 103 e s.s.), era presente allorché i quattro
elementi si separarono tra di loro dando forma ad ogni cosa. A tal
proposito Varrone riporta nel carmen anche l'epiteto di Cerus cioè
"creatore", perché come iniziatore del mondo Giano è il creatore per
eccellenza[8]. Il console e augure Marco Valerio Messalla Rufo scrive nel libro
sugli Auspici che Giano è colui che plasma e governa ogni cosa e unì,
circondandole con il cielo, l'essenza dell'acqua e della terra, pesante e
tendente a scendere in basso, e quella del fuoco e dell'aria, leggera e
tendente a sfuggire verso l'alto, e che fu l'immane forza del cielo a tenere
legate le due forze contrastanti[9]. Settimio Sereno lo chiama "principio
degli dèi e acuto seminatore di cose". Giano presiede infatti a
tutti gli inizi e i passaggi e le soglie, materiali e immateriali, come le
soglie delle case, le porte, i passaggi coperti e quelli sovrastati da un arco,
ma anche l'inizio di una nuova impresa, della vita umana, della vita economica,
del tempo storico e di quello mitico, della religione, degli dèi stessi, del
mondo, dell'umanità (viene infatti chiamato Consivio, cioè propagatore del genere
umano, che viene seminato per opera sua[10]), della civiltà, delle
istituzioni. Nella sua riforma del calendario romano, Numa Pompilio
dedicò a Giano il primo mese successivo al solstizio d'inverno, gennaio, che
con la riforma giulianadel 46 a.C. passò ad essere il primo dell'anno.
Una delle caratteristiche più singolari di Giano sta nella sua rappresentazione
come di un dio bicefalo, da cui l'appellativodi Giano bifronte. Questa
particolarità era connessa all'area di influenza divina che Giano assunse in
maniera specifica in epoca classica, dopo l'ascesa degli dei romani
"canonici": Giano era preposto alle porte (ianuae), ai passaggi
(iani) e ai ponti: ne custodiva l'entrata e l'uscita e portava in mano, come i
portinai, gli ianitores, una chiave e un bastone, mentre le due facce
vegliavano nelle due direzioni, a custodire entrata e uscita. Anche in
quest'epoca, comunque, Giano continuò a rappresentare il custode di ogni forma
di passaggio e mutamento, protettore di tutto ciò che riguardava un inizio ed
una fine. Miti Modifica Paolo Farinati, Giano bifronte con una
ninfa, 1590 circa, affresco, Villa Nichesola-Conforti, Ponton di Sant'Ambrogio
di Valpolicella (Verona). Nel mito Giano avrebbe regnato come primo Re del
Latium, fondando una città sul monte Gianicolo e donando la civiltà agli
Aborigeni, suoi originari abitanti. Con la ninfa Camese avrebbe generato
inoltre numerosi figli, tra i quali il dio Tiberino, signore del Tevere. È lui
ad accogliere il dio dell'agricolturaSaturno, spodestato dal figlio Giove,
condividendo con lui la regalità e consentendogli di portare l'età dell'oro.
Per l'ospitalità ricevuta, Giano ricevette dal dio Saturno il dono di vedere
sia il passato che il futuro, all'origine della sua rappresentazione
bifronte. Numerose sono le ninfe indicate come mogli o compagne di
Giano: Camese, dalla quale il dio ebbe tre figli: Tiberino, il dio del
Tevere; Camasena, Clistene; Venilia, citata da Ovidio, dalla quale avrebbe
generato: Canente; Carna, dalla quale avrebbe ricevuto il potere sulle porte;
Giuturna, dalla quale sarebbe nato: Fons, dio delle sorgenti, venerato ai piedi
del Gianicolo. Culto Modifica Al culto di Giano, a differenza delle altre
divinità maggiori, non era preposto uno specifico flamen. Le cerimonie a lui
dedicate venivano invece amministrate dallo stesso Rex e, in età repubblicana
dal particolare sacerdote che suppliva alle antiche prerogative regie, il Rex
Sacrorum. Egli apriva dunque per primo le processioni e le cerimonie religiose,
antecedendo anche lo stesso flamen Dialis, sacerdote di Giove. Nel suo
tempio si sacrificava spesso per avere vaticinisulla riuscita delle imprese
militari. Santuari Modifica Arco di Giano o Ianus Quadrifrons. A
Roma i principali luoghi consacrati a Giano erano: lo Ianus geminus, un
passaggio coperto consacrato secondo la tradizione da Numa Pompilio nel Foro e
precisamente nella parte più bassa dell'Argileto secondo Tito Livio, o ai piedi
del Viminale secondo Macrobio, e che veniva aperto in occasione di guerre e
chiuso in tempo di pace[11]; lo Ianus quadrifrons, un arco a quattro aperture
situato nel Foro Boario; il Tempio di Giano situato nel Foro Olitorio e
consacrato da Gaio Duilio nel 260 a.C. dopo la vittoria di Milazzo. Giano come
simbolo di città Modifica Scultura lignea di Giano ad Avezzano Secondo la
leggenda, Giano fondò la città di Gianicola, e fu proprio lui ad accogliere
Saturno nel Lazio. Esisteva una frazione della città di Roma denominata
Gianicolo e secondo alcuni mitologi Giano sarebbe il fondatore di uno dei
villaggi di Roma. Da notare che il Gianicolo affaccia su un lato del Tevere ove
è presente un guado naturale, quindi un passaggio. Giano viene assunto
dal Medioevo a simbolo di Genova, in relazione al suo nome antico di Ianua[12].
Come tale viene spesso accostato al Grifone, altro simbolo di questa città.
Troviamo effigi di Giano bifronte nel pozzo sacro di piazza Sarzano
(l'ermabifronte sulla cupoletta, proveniente da una fontana cinquecentesca
opera della bottega in Genova di Giacomo e Guglielmo della Porta); rappresentazioni
dei grifoni come ornamento dei pinnacoli delle volte vetrate di Galleria
Mazzini e nei lampadari ottocenteschi della stessa. Una rappresentazione
indubbiamente più moderna ed essenziale la troviamo nel palazzo azzurro sito in
Fiumara. Bisogna considerare Giano come dio adatto a sostituire i riti celtici
dediti alla venerazione del torrente, considerato come luogo ove convergono le
acque da affluenti che stanno a destra e a sinistra dello stesso corso d'acqua,
in quanto Giano aveva due facce ed era il dio dei passaggi, oltre ad avere
rapporti con le divinità delle acque. Oltre a Genova, Giano è il simbolo
di Tiggiano(provincia di Lecce), Subbiano (provincia di Arezzo), Selvazzano
Dentro (provincia di Padova) e Centro Giano (provincia di Roma), San Giovanni
Rotondo(Provincia di Foggia). L'immagine di Giano è presente nel gonfalone di
Tiggiano (provincia di Lecce)[13]perché secondo un'etimologia popolare il nome
del paese potrebbe derivare dal nome del dio Giano[14] (in realtà il toponimo è
un prediale costruito sul gentilizioromano Tidius[15].). In Basilicata,
presso Muro Lucano (PZ) è presente il toponimo Capo di Giano e Varaggiano,
mentre presso Melfi c'è Foggiano. A Pescopagano, in una nicchia sotto l'arco di
Porta Sibilla vi è una statuetta raffigurante Giano bifronte. L'immagine
di Giano è presente nel gonfalone di Subbiano (provincia di Arezzo)[16] perché
secondo un'etimologia popolare il nome del paese deriverebbe dal latino Sub
Janum condita ("fondata sotto [il segno di] Giano")[17], ma in realtà
il toponimo è un predialecostruito sul gentilizio romano Sevius[18]. Il
nome della città di Avezzano in Abruzzo stando ad un'ipotesi giudicata
inverosimile da storici ed archeologi deriverebbe da "Ave Jane",
un'invocazione posta sul portale di un tempio consacrato al dio Giano. Secondo
la leggenda attorno al tempio ebbe origine la borgata formata dai primi
agricoltori stanziati nell'area che originariamente circondava il lago del
Fucino[19]. Il monte Giano nell'Appennino centrale è situato nel comune
di Antrodoco, in provincia di Rieti. Il toponimo di Selvazzano Dentro di
origine romana parrebbe riportare alla presenza di un boschetto sacro al dio
Giano (selva di Giano), l'attuale stemma comunale riporta infatti un altare
dedicato al dio. Secondo delle supposizioni i toponimi di Vezzano, come
Vezzano Ligure in provincia della Spezia, deriverebbero dalla divinità
romana. Il nome del dio è invece all'origine dei due toponimi Giano
dell'Umbria e Giano Vetusto, non direttamente ma attraverso un nome di persona
latino Ianus (al quale sarà originariamente appartenuto il fondo sul quale è
sorto il centro abitato)[20]. A Reggio Emilia c'è un Giano su uno spigolo
di Palazzo Magnani in Corso Garibaldi. Nel comune di Maddaloni, in Provincia di
Caserta, esattamente dinanzi l'ospedale cittadino, sono ancora visibili i resti
di un tempio con l'iscrizione "Iano Pacifero". A Trieste vi è
una fontana con il volto bifronte del dio, posta all'inizio del Viale XX
Settembre. In quanto alla scelta del sito, va notato che nei primi anni
dell'Ottocento in quel punto si trovava un recinto con cancello, che segnava
l'uscita dalla città.[21]. Il toponimo di Camposano, in provincia di
Napoli, tra le tante interpretazioni, parrebbe derivare da un tempio dedicato
al dio Giano denominato Campus Iani. Nel pesarese, a pochi chilometri
dalla città di Fano, vi è la frazione di Monte Giano. Nei pressi del
comune di Montieri, tra Siena e Volterra, Alta Maremma, si trova una località
chiamata Prategiano, tradizionalmente legata alla divinità. Qui oggi si trova
un prato collinare, circondato da boschi. Vi ha sede un centro ippico di
rilievo, dal quale partono escursioni per numerose località naturali e
storiche. La zona è ricca di vestigia, tra le quali la Rotonda di Montesiepi,
con la Spada nella Roccia, ivi conficcata dal misterioso San Galgano nel XII
secolo, oggi ancora visibile sotto la cupola della rotonda. Note Modifica
^ Macrobio, Saturnalia, I, 9, 11 ^ ad esempio Herbert Jennings Rose in
Dizionario di antichità classiche, s.v. Giano. Milano, Edizioni San Paolo,
Dumézil, La religione romana arcaica,
Milano, Rizzoli, Ferrari, Dizionario di mitologia greca e latina, s.v.
Giano. Torino, UTET, Simon "Culsu, Culsans e Ianus" in: Atti Secondo
congresso internazionale - Tomo III - 1985 pag. 1271-81. ^ de Grummond, N.T.
& Simon, E. (eds.) (2006). The Religion of the Etruscans. University of
Texas, Austin.. ^ Daniele F.Maras, Monografie - La Religione Etrusca p.22, in
Archeo Monografie, 27 ottobre/novembre 2018. ^ Marco Terenzio Varrone, Della
lingua latina, VII, 26-27 ^ Macrobio, Saturnalia, I, 9, 14 ^ Macrobio,
Saturnalia, I, 9, 16 ^ Tito Livio, Storia di Roma, I, 19, 2 ^ Teofilo Ossian De
Negri. Storia di Genova. Firenze, Giunti, 2Stemma Comune di Tiggiano, su
comuni-italiani.it. Notizie generali sul Comune di Tiggiano, su japigia.com.
URL consultato Marcato. Tiggiano, in AA. VV. Dizionario di toponomastica.
Torino, UTET, Subbiano (Tuscany, Italy), su crwflags Subbiano in breve, su
comune.subbiano.Marcato. Subbiano, in AA.VV. Dizionario di toponomastica. ^
Giovanni Pagani, Il nome Avezzano, su avezzano.terremarsicane.it, Terre
Marsicane. Marcato. Giano dell'Umbria e Giano Vetusto, in AA. VV. Dizionario di
toponomastica. ^ In Viale una fontana con due mascheroni - Cronaca - Il
Piccolo, in Il Piccolo, 19 novembre Enciclopedia Britannica, Encyclopædia
Britannica, Inc. Portale Mitologia: accedi alle voci di Wikipedia che trattano
di mitologia. Falacer Saturno (divinità) divinità romanaell'agricoltura
Carna Wikipedia Il contenutoAntonio Carulli. Keywords: Giano, critica
della cultura, Nietzsche, De Contemptu, Schelling, impolitico, Benjamin,
menstruazione, Aligheri sulla mestruazione, ente, essente. Giano, e la
religione, paganesimo. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Grice e Carulli” – The
Swimming-Pool Library. Carulli.
Grice e Casalegno: l’implicatura
conversazionale -- il concetto d’implicatura nella filosofia linguistica del
Novecento – filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza (Torino). Filosofo
italiano Grice: “I like, indeed love, Casalegno; but then, he loves me!
Translating Griice, or me, is tricky – as Mommsen says of Garet translating
Cassiodoro,, “more than a translation, he provided a correction – and he tried
to prove that Cassiodoro was a Benedictine monk.’” Grice: “Casalegno does not
try to ‘translate’ Grice – let THAT to the technicians! As a philosopher, he
tries to ‘re-interpret’ Grice, if a re-interpretation is needed!” Si laurea a Pisa sotto Sainati con “Aspetti della
logica modernista”. Insegna a Milano, chiamato da Bonomi. Approfondizza diversi
temi all'interno della filosofia analitica, quali il concetto di verità, la
teoria degli insiemi, l'epistemologia della testimonianza, la teoria della
ricorsività. Altre opere: “Alle origini della semantica formale,” Cuem;
“Filosofia del linguaggio: un'introduzione,” Carocci, “Teoria degli insiemi,
un'introduzione, Carocci); “Brevissima introduzione alla filosofia del
linguaggio, Carocci, Verità e
significato. Scritti di filosofia del linguaggio, Carocci, (P. Frascolla, D. Marconi ed E. Paganini). Il
puzzle di Kripke, in Teoria, Sulla logica dei plurali, in Teoria; Tre
osservazioni su verità e riferimento, in Iride; Come interpretare l'argomento
antirealista di Dummett?, in Lingua e stile; Le proprietà modali della verità:
problemi e punti di vista, in Logica e teologia (Pisa, ETS). Un problema
concernente le condizioni di asseribilità, in Modi dell'oggettività, Milano,
Bompiani, Normatività e riferimento, in
Politeia. Chomsky sul riferimento, Monza, Polimetrica. Casalegno, il
maestro della filosofia del linguaggio, di Franco Manzoni, Corriere della Sera,
Archivio storico. Grice Logica e conversazione. In P.
Casalegno, P. Frascolla, A. Iacona, E. Paganini, M. Santambrogio (a cura di).
Filosofia del linguaggio, Milano, Raffaello Cortina. Il libro che vi presento
oggi appartiene alla collana “Bibliotheca” della casa editrice Raffaello
Cortina. Il titolo è Filosofia del linguaggio (come spesso accade tra i libri
di cui ho parlato in questo blog) e si tratta di una interessante e utile antologia
di testi, appartenenti alla tradizione novecentesca della filosofia analitica
del linguaggio. I curatori sono importanti docenti italiani, tra cui
Paolo Casalegno, Pasquale Frascolla, Andrea Iacona, Elisa Paganini e Marco
Santambrogio. I testi antologizzati consentono al lettore di farsi
un’idea (e non poco approfondita) sulle principali questioni e problematiche
inerenti al linguaggio umano, su cui si è dibattuto negli ultimi decenni in
ambito analitico. Ogni testo è preceduto da una introduzione dei curatori, in
cui è presentato il pensiero dell’autore, il contesto culturale e i concetti
chiave che emergono dalla sua opera. Apre il classico Senso e significato
di Frege (di cui avevo già parlato qui), seguono quindi Le descrizioni di
Bertrand Russell (testo che tratta delle descrizioni definite), Significato,
uso, comprensione di Ludwig Wittgenstein (tratto dalle sue Ricerche
filosofiche), Due dogmi dell’empirismo e Relatività ontologica di Quine, Nomi e
riferimento di Kripke, Significato, riferimento e stereotipi di Putnam,
Interpretazione radicale di Davidson, “Logica e conversazione” di Grice,
Dispute metafisiche intorno al realismo, di Michael Dummett, e si conclude con
l’interessante Linguaggio e natura, di Noam Chomsky. versazione – afferma Grice
- è un ' attività cooperativa alla quale i partecipanti devono contribuire in
maniera appropriata. A tale fine, bisogna che ciascuno si attenga a quattro “
massime ” che possono. Introduzione alla filosofia del linguaggio Paolo
Casalegno. Significato e condizioni di verità. Prendiamo in considerazione
un’idea del primo Wittgenstein: “Comprendere una proposizione vuole dire
sapere che accada se essa è vera” (Tractatus). Poiché comprendere una
proposizione equivale a conoscerne il significato, molti hanno concluso che
alla base di una teoria del significato si deve porre la nozione di verità.
Come sostenere la tesi wittgensteiniana? Un modo può
essere questo: usiamo il linguaggio per
descrivere la realtà. Una proposizione singola fornisce una
descrizione appropriata, anche se parziale, della realtà se le cose stanno in
un certo modo, una descrizione inappropriata altrimenti. Per comprendere una
proposi-zione dobbiamo sapere quali sono le circostante in cui la descrizione
della realtà che essa offre è ap-propriata, dobbiamo sapere come deve essere
fatto il mondo affinché essa sia vera. Possiamo anche esprimerci così: per
comprendere una proposizione dobbiamo conoscere le sue ‘condizioni di
veri-tà’. Evitiamo di fraintendere. Conoscere le condizioni di verità di
una proposizione è molto diverso dal sapere se essa sia, di fatto, vera o
falsa, e non bisogna dunque confondere le due cose. Inoltre, non bisogna assumere
che il conoscere le condizioni di verità di una
proposizione equivalga a sapere come si fa, in pratica, per
stabilire se essa è vera. La tesi wittgensteiniana sembra essere
ragionevole, e così anche la sua conseguenza più immediata: una teoria del
significato, ammesso che la si possa elaborare, deve essere imperniata sulla
nozione di verità. Le obiezioni che si possono però muovere a un siffatto modo
di vedere le cose sono moltepli-ci, concentriamoci su alcune di queste.
Le obiezioni possono essere, principalmente, di due tipi. Da un lato si può
concedere che compren-dere una proposizione equivalga a conoscerne le
condizioni di verità, ma respingere l’idea che la nozione di verità sia la
nozione centrale di una teoria del significato (ci sono espressioni per le
quali parlare di condizioni di verità sembra essere assurdo). Dall’altro lato,
si può più radicalmente soste-nere che il significato delle proposizioni non
può essere ridotto a un insieme determinato di condi-zioni di verità. Al
termine ‘proposizione’ preferiamo contrapporre un gergo leggermente più
tecnico, facciamo quindi uso del termine ‘enunciato’; ciò per riferirci a
quelle che talvolta si chia-mano ‘frasi dichiarative’: le frasi per mezzo delle
quali si può fare un’asserzione e delle quali ha sen-so chiedersi se siano vere
o false. La prima obiezione si basa sull’ovvia constatazione che
esistono espressione le quali, pur essendo dotate di significato, non
sono enunciati, e alle quali, di conseguenza, non sono sensatamente attribuibili condizioni
di verità. Ci sono espressioni
sintatticamente ben formate che non sono
frasi complete, parole singole o espressioni come ‘valigia
pesante’. Che queste espressioni abbiano un significato è
indubbio, ma che si possa parlare di condizioni di verità sembra essere
un’evidente for-zatura. In secondo luogo, ci sono frasi
complete come le interrogative e le imperative.
Inevitabil-mente, una teoria che voglia analizzare il significato di queste due
sorte di espressioni deve ricorre a nozioni diverse da quella di
verità. Sembra dunque impossibile che
proprio su questa nozione si fondi tutta quanta una
teoria del significato. Cosa si può rispondere a quest’obiezione? Si può voler
dire che la nozione di verità, sebbene non possa essere considerata l’unica
nozione di una teoria del significato, rimane in ogni caso la nozione centrale.
Si può sostenere che anche il significato delle espressioni che non sono enunciati
ha a che fare con la verità. Consideriamo il caso delle parole singole:
queste servono a costruire frasi complete, è di queste in-fatti che ci serviamo
per parlare, non di parole isolate (a meno che le parole singole non fungano
esse stesse da frasi complete). Ci interessa che le parole abbiano un significato
perché ci interessa che abbiano un significato le frasi complete in cui esse
figurano. Conoscere il significato di una pa- 1 rola, comprenderla, equivale in
definitiva a sapere qual è il suo contributo al significato delle frasi: in
particolare alle condizioni di verità degli enunciati. Non è possibile spiegare
in che cosa consista per una parola essere nome di qualcosa — e, più in
generale, che cosa sia il significato di una parola qualsiasi — se non
presupponendo la nozione di verità. Una teoria del significato deve fare
appello alla nozione di verità anche nell’analisi delle parole singole (questo
vale anche per frasi più complesse che tuttavia non sono frasi complete) (MAH).
Vediamo ora il caso delle frasi complete che non sono enunciati. Se ci si
riflette un po’ su, ci si rende conto che la nostra capacità di capire e di
usare correttamente frasi interrogative e imperative dipende dalla nostra
capacità di usare il linguaggio per descrivere il mondo, il che comporta che si
sappia quando una descrizione è appropriata e quando non lo è, il che ci
riporta, ancora una volta, alle condizioni di verità. Nel caso di domande molto
semplici, domande che esigono come risposta un ‘Sì’ o un ‘No’, ciò è evidente:
queste domande (come ‘E partito il treno per Udine’) corrispondono in modo
ovvio a un enunciato, ora è ovvio che ciò che vuole sapere chi formula la
domanda è sapere se questo enunciato sia vero o falso. É anche chiaro che il
rispondere ‘Sì’ alla domanda equivale al dire che è vero, e rispondere ‘No’ al
dire che è falso. A conclusioni analoghe si perviene riflettendo sui casi delle
interrogative che non richiedono una risposta nei termini di una negazione o
un’affermazione, e delle frasi imperative.
La centralità della nozione di verità
sembra così essere confermata. Della seconda
obiezioni esistono più varianti, potremmo
perciò formularla come segue. Concentrando l’attenzione
sulle condizioni di verità, si privilegia solo uno degli scopi cui il
linguaggio può essere adibito: la descrizione della realtà, la trasmissione di
informazioni su come è fatto il mondo. E questa è una mossa evidentemente
arbitraria. Se si decide di ignorare la straordinaria varietà degli usi cui gli
enunciati possono essere adibiti nelle circostanze concrete delle vita per
concentrarsi in modo esclusivo sul loro ruolo di veicoli di
informazione, ci si condanna ad offrire del linguaggio un’immagine
desolantemente impoverita. Del resto anche se si è interessati al linguaggio
come mez-zo per descrivere la realtà, bisogna convincersi che anche da questo
punto di vista le cose sono assai più complicate. In primo luogo, il fornire
informazione non può mai ridursi al proferire enunciati in modo casuale e
sconnesso: parlando dobbiamo sempre tener conto della situazione in cui ci
tro-viamo, delle informazioni di cui i
nostri interlocutori già dispongono, delle
loro aspettative ecc.; inoltre, ci sono regole precise di
costruzione del discorso, violando le quali ciò che diciamo potreb-be non esser
compreso o risultare folle. Per tutto questo le condizioni di verità non
bastano. In se-condo luogo, le condizioni di verità degli enunciati sono
concepite di solito come qualcosa di relati-vamente fisso e stabile. Di
conseguenza, se il contenuto informativo degli enunciati dipendesse per intero
dalle loro condizioni di verità, dovrebbe essere a sua volta stabile. Ma solo
fintanto che si con-templano gli enunciati prescindendo da ogni loro impiego
effettivo si può avere l’impressione che sia così. Ciò che si può
comunicare con un dato enunciato varia enormemente con il variare dei
contesti. La risposta abituale a questa obiezione consiste nell’evocare la
distinzione tra semantica e pragmati-ca, una distinzione che risale a un saggio
di Morris, secondo il quale lo studio di una lingua, o di un qualsiasi altro
sistema di segni, si compone di tre parti: sintassi, semantica e pragmatica. La
sintassi si occuperebbe dei segni in quanto tali, prescindendo dalla loro
interpretazione e dal loro uso, la semantica del significato dei segni, e la
pragmatica di ciò che con i segni si può fare, dei loro impieghi concreti.
Un’obiezione come sopra, si può dire, confonde semantica e pragmatica.
Qualcuno potrebbe però voler dire che questa risposta si riduce, nei fatti, ad
una mera stipulazione definitoria. Il problema è se un tale modo di
circoscrivere la semantica disgiungendola dalla prag-matica sia giustificato o
meno: se cioè la decisione di isolare le condizioni di verità da altre
dimen-sione del linguaggio rispecchi un’articolazione intrinseca della nostra
competenza di parlanti, iden-tifichi un livello realmente fondamentale, e possa
costituir una scelta metodica feconda. Due punti: né il filosofo del
linguaggio né il linguista sono tenuti a rendere conto di tutti gli usi
pos-sibili del linguaggio. Si è tenuti a rendere conto solo di quelli che
potremmo chiamare gli usi “lin-guistici” del linguaggio (MAH). Se focalizziamo
la nostra attenzione su questi usi, possiamo convin-cerci che l’idea di partenza
mantiene la propria plausibilità: sembra che la conoscenza delle condi-zioni
di verità degli enunciati svolga un ruolo essenziale
anche quando sono coinvolti fattori che non sono riducibili
alle condizioni di verità pure e semplici. Non solo è legittimo distinguere
seman-tica e pragmatica nel modo che si è detto, ma la pragmatica presuppone la
semantica (MAH). Ad esempio si è rilevato come gli enunciati siano usati spesso
per trasmettere un contenuto informativo 2 Questa pagina non è visibile
nell’anteprima Non perderti parti importanti! Questa pagina non è visibile
nell’anteprima Non perderti parti importanti! stato di cose che l’immagine
rappresenta. Tuttavia va notato che la nozione di forma è quanto mai elusiva,
come testimonia il gran numero di interpretazioni che ha subito da parte di
studiosi. Vi è poi una seconda complicazione. Una proposizione
rappresenta uno stato di cose solo attraverso la mediazione di un “pensiero”.
Il pensiero è esso stesso un’immagine: un’immagine mentale i cui elementi
sono “costituenti psichici”. Usando le
parole di Wittgenstein si può continuare
a dire, come faceva Frege, che ogni proposizione esprime un pensiero, ma
non si può più dire che il pen-siero espresso è il senso della proposizione: il
senso della proposizione è lo stato di cose di cui è il pensiero è immagine e
che la proposizione stessa, tramite il pensiero, rappresenta (?). Nel
caso del linguaggio ordinario, il rapporto fra una proposizione e il pensiero
che essa esprime è molto intricato. Il motivo è che il linguaggio ordinario è
logicamente imperfetto: “Il linguaggio trave-ste i pensieri. E precisamente
così che dalla forma esteriore dell’abito non si può concludere alla forma del
pensiero rivestito; perché la forma esteriore dell’abito è formata per ben
altri scopi che quello di far conoscere la forma del corpo” (Cfr. Ricerche
filosofiche). É ben difficile che la strutture di una proposizione elementare
del lin-guaggio ordinario rispecchi fedelmente la struttura del pensiero e
dello stato di cose corrispondenti. Quindi, fintanto che ciò cui ci si
riferisce è il linguaggio ordinario, dire che le proposizione elemen-tari sono
immagini significa dire qualcosa che è corretto solo approssimativamente. Una
proposizio-ne del linguaggio ordinario è un’immagine solo in via derivata, in
quanto associata a quell’immagi-ne vera e propria che è il pensiero. Il
pensiero è collegato da un lato allo stato di cose che rappre-senta in virtù
della sua natura di immagine, dall’altro alla proposizione attraverso una
“legge di pro-iezione” circa la quale il Tractatus non ci fornisce ulteriori
notizie. Una proposizione che rispecchi fedelmente la struttura
del pensiero espresso è detta da Wittgen-stein “completamente
analizzata”. Se si vuole evitare ogni travestimento del pensiero, bisogna
ricor-rere per forza ad un linguaggio artificiale costruito in modo da essere
esente da fallacie logiche. La convinzione che il linguaggio ordinario sia
logicamente imperfetto è alla base della concezione della filosofia che emerge
dal Tractatus. Per un verso, “il più delle questioni e delle proposizioni che
sono state scritte su cose filosofiche è non falso, ma insensato”, perché “si
fonda sul fatto che noi non comprendiamo la nostra logica del linguaggio”, che
ci lasciamo sviare dal modo ingannevole in cui il linguaggio ordi-nario esprime
i pensieri; per un altro verso, “scopo della filosofia è la chiarificazione
logica dei pensieri. La filosofia è non una dottrina, ma un’attività. […]
Risultato della filosofia non sono “proposizioni filosofiche”, ma il chiarirsi
di proposizioni”. Wittgenstein rinnegherà il Tractatus per intero, ma questa
concezione della filosofia resterà per lo più immutata. I nomi che
figurano in una proposizione completamente analizzata devono denominare oggetti
di tipo molto speciale: oggetti non identificabili con le entità che popolano
l’ontologia del senso comune (?) e quindi diversi dagli oggetti associati ai
nomi del linguaggio ordinario. Ciò che contraddi-stingue gli oggetti nominati
in una proposizione completamente analizzata dagli oggetti del senso
comune è il requisito della semplicità. L’oggetto
deve essere semplice, ma di questa semplicità il
Tractatus non da’ neanche un esempio. Leggendo i Quaderni che documentano in
parte la genesi del Tractatus, si scopre che una preoccupazione
ricorrente di Wittgenstein era proprio quella di non riuscire a fornire
degli oggetti semplici una caratterizzazione esplicita e diretta. Ne postulava
l’esi-stenza non perché ne avesse in mente esempi specifici, bensì
sulla base di considerazioni logiche astratte e generali. In effetti
un’argomentazione vera e propria Wittgenstein non la produce mai. Nel Tractatus
si in-contrano soltanto qua e là affermazioni piuttosto enigmatiche: “Gli
oggetti formano la sostanza del mon-do, perciò non possono essere composti”;
“Se il mondo non avesse una sostanza, l’avere una proposizione senso
dipenderebbe dall’essere un’altra proposizione vera”; “Sarebbe allora
impossibile progettare un’immagine del mon-do (vera o falsa)”. Possiamo
presumere che il ragionamento di Wittgenstein vada ricostruito come se-gue. (I)
Anzitutto, affinché una proposizione abbia senso, bisogna che a ogni nome che
figura in essa corrisponda un oggetto. Questo, come si è osservato sopra, segue
dall’idea che le proposizione elementari siano immagini. Se ai nomi
potessero corrispondere entità complesse, non ci sarebbe a priori nessuna
garanzia che ad un dato nome corrisponda davvero qualcosa.
Un’entità complessa consta di entità più semplici correlate in un certo
modo; ora, che sussista una tale correlazione è un fatto contingente. 5
stato di cose che l’immagine rappresenta. Tuttavia va notato che la nozione di
forma è quanto mai elusiva, come testimonia il gran numero di interpretazioni
che ha subito da parte di studiosi. Vi è poi una seconda complicazione.
Una proposizione rappresenta uno stato di cose solo attraverso la mediazione di
un “pensiero”. Il pensiero è esso stesso un’immagine: un’immagine mentale i cui
elementi sono “costituenti psichici”. Usando
le parole di Wittgenstein si può
continuare a dire, come faceva Frege, che ogni proposizione esprime
un pensiero, ma non si può più dire che il pen-siero espresso è il senso della
proposizione: il senso della proposizione è lo stato di cose di cui è il
pensiero è immagine e che la proposizione stessa, tramite il pensiero,
rappresenta (?). Nel caso del linguaggio ordinario, il rapporto fra una
proposizione e il pensiero che essa esprime è molto intricato. Il motivo è che
il linguaggio ordinario è logicamente imperfetto: “Il linguaggio traveste i
pensieri. E precisamente così che dalla forma esteriore dell’abito non si può
concludere alla forma del pensiero rivestito; perché la forma esteriore
dell’abito è formata per ben altri scopi che quello di far conoscere la forma
del corpo” (Cfr. Ricerche filosofiche). É ben difficile che la strutture di una
proposizione elementare del lin-guaggio ordinario rispecchi fedelmente la
struttura del pensiero e dello stato di cose corrispondenti. Quindi, fintanto
che ciò cui ci si riferisce è il linguaggio ordinario, dire che le proposizione
elemen-tari sono immagini significa dire qualcosa che è corretto solo
approssimativamente. Una proposizio-ne del linguaggio ordinario è un’immagine
solo in via derivata, in quanto associata a quell’immagine vera e propria che è
il pensiero. Il pensiero è collegato da un lato allo stato di cose che
rappre-senta in virtù della sua natura di immagine, dall’altro alla
proposizione attraverso una “legge di pro-iezione” circa la quale il Tractatus
non ci fornisce ulteriori notizie. Una proposizione che rispecchi
fedelmente la struttura del pensiero espresso è detta da
Wittgen-stein “completamente analizzata”. Se si vuole evitare ogni
travestimento del pensiero, bisogna ricor-rere per forza ad un linguaggio
artificiale costruito in modo da essere esente da fallacie logiche. La
convinzione che il linguaggio ordinario sia logicamente imperfetto è alla base
della concezione della filosofia che emerge dal Tractatus. Per un verso, “il
più delle questioni e delle proposizioni che sono state scritte su cose
filosofiche è non falso, ma insensato”, perché “si fonda sul fatto che noi non
comprendiamo la nostra logica del linguaggio”, che ci lasciamo sviare dal modo
ingannevole in cui il linguaggio ordi-nario esprime i pensieri; per un altro
verso, “scopo della filosofia è la chiarificazione logica dei pensieri. La
filosofia è non una dottrina, ma un’attività. […] Risultato della filosofia non
sono “proposizioni filosofiche”, ma il chiarirsi di proposizioni”. Wittgenstein
rinnegherà il Tractatus per intero, ma questa concezione della filosofia
resterà per lo più immutata. I nomi che figurano in una proposizione
completamente analizzata devono denominare oggetti di tipo molto speciale: oggetti
non identificabili con le entità che popolano l’ontologia del senso co-mune (?)
e quindi diversi dagli oggetti associati ai nomi del linguaggio ordinario. Ciò
che contraddi-stingue gli oggetti nominati in una proposizione completamente
analizzata dagli oggetti del senso comune è il requisito
della semplicità. L’oggetto deve essere
semplice, ma di questa semplicità il Tractatus non da’
neanche un esempio. Leggendo i Quaderni che documentano in parte la genesi del
Tractatus, si scopre che una preoccupazione ricorrente di
Wittgenstein era proprio quella di non riuscire a fornire degli oggetti
semplici una caratterizzazione esplicita e diretta. Ne postulava l’esi-stenza
non perché ne avesse in mente esempi specifici, bensì sulla base di
considerazioni logiche astratte e generali. In effetti un’argomentazione
vera e propria Wittgenstein non la produce mai. Nel Tractatus si in-contrano
soltanto qua e là affermazioni piuttosto enigmatiche: “Gli oggetti formano la
sostanza del mon-do, perciò non possono essere composti”; “Se il mondo non
avesse una sostanza, l’avere una proposizione senso dipenderebbe dall’essere
un’altra proposizione vera”; “Sarebbe allora impossibile progettare un’immagine
del mon-do (vera o falsa)”. Possiamo presumere che il ragionamento di
Wittgenstein vada ricostruito come se-gue. (I) Anzitutto, affinché una
proposizione abbia senso, bisogna che a ogni nome che figura in essa
corrisponda un oggetto. Questo, come si è osservato sopra, segue dall’idea che
le proposizione elementari siano immagini. (II) Se ai nomi potessero
corrispondere entità complesse, non ci sarebbe a priori nessuna garanzia che ad
un dato nome corrisponda davvero qualcosa. Un’entità
complessa consta di entità più semplici correlate in un certo modo; ora,
che sussista una tale correlazione è un fatto contingente. Pertanto, se ai
nomi potessero corrispondere entità complesse, non ci sarebbe a priori nessuna
garanzia che una data proposizione abbia un senso. Supponiamo che nella proposizione
P figuri il nome N: se a N potesse corrispondere un’entità complessa C, saremmo
sicuri che a N corri-sponde davvero qualcosa, e quindi che P ha
senso, solo se fossimo sicuri che C esiste: in altri termini, solo se
sapessimo già che è vera la proposizione P’ la quale asserisce che gli elementi
costituitivi di C sono correlati in quel certo modo. Come dice Wittgenstein,
“l’avere una proposi-zione senso dipenderebbe dall’essere un’altra proposizione
vera”. (IV) Ma questo sarebbe assurdo. Se una proposizione abbia senso oppure
no deve essere chiaro a priori. É inconcepibile che la sensatezza o
l’insensatezza di una proposizione possa essere “sco-perta”. Se, per essere
sicuri che una proposizione è sensata, dovessimo sempre aver stabilito pri-ma
la verità di un’altra proposizione, si genererebbe un regresso all’infinito, e
noi non potrem-mo mai sapere se, parlando, stiamo dicendo alcunché di
determinato. Non saremmo mai in gra-do di “progettare un’immagine del mondo
vera o falsa”. Devono esserci oggetti semplici e sono gli oggetti
semplici che devono corrispon-dere ai nomi del nostro linguaggio. NB. In
questo ragionamento, la corrispondenza tra entità complesse e oggetti semplici
viene fatta coincidere con quella tra entità la cui esistenza è un fatto
contingente ed entità la cui esistenza è in-vece necessaria e nota a priori. “É
manifesto che un mondo, per quanto diverso sia pensato da quello reale, pure
deve avere in comune con il mondo reale qualcosa — una forma —”; “Questa forma
fissa consta appunto degli oggetti”. La proposizione (I) non è dunque
un’immagine vera e propria: la sua struttura non rispecchia la struttura di uno
stato di cose perché i costituenti ultimi di uno stato di cose sono sempre
oggetti semplici, mentre Piero e Marco sono entità complesse. I termini ‘Piero’
e ‘Marco’ non sono nomi del tipo che a Wittgenstein interessa. Questo però non
implica che (I) sia priva di senso. Grazie alla mediazione del pensiero un
senso ce l’ha (?), ma per esplicitarlo adeguatamente bisognerebbe ri-correre a
proposizioni con una struttura del tutto diversa: a proposizioni completamente
analizzate. Si può finalmente comprendere perché ai nomi non si possa
attribuire, a suo avviso, un senso di tipo descrittivo come quello cui pensava
Frege. Identificare un oggetto attraverso una descrizione vuole dire
identificarlo riferendosi ad uno stato di cose di cui esso fa parte. Ma il
sussistere di uno stato di cose è sempre un fatto contingente, mentre la
correlazione di un nome con l’oggetto che ne costi-tuisce il significato deve
essere garantita a priori. Pertanto, ciò che istituisce la correlazione
nome/oggetto non può essere una descrizione dell’oggetto stesso.
Vediamo ora cosa Wittgenstein sostiene riguardo
le proposizioni complesse. La sua idea è
che le proposizioni complesse siano funzioni
di verità delle proposizioni elementari che
figurano come loro costituenti. Supponiamo che le proposizioni elementari
che figurano nella proposizione com-plessa P siano P1, …, Pn. Allora dire che P
è una funzione di verità di P1, …, Pn equivale a dire che il valore di verità
di P dipende esclusivamente dai valori di verità di P1, …, Pn (negazione,
congiun-zione, disgiunzione, condizionale…). Per visualizzare il modo in
cui il valore di verità di una proposizione costruita per mezzo di un dato
connettivo dipende dai valori di verità delle proposizioni costituenti,
Wittgenstein propone un artificio grafico: le cosiddette ‘tavole di
verità’. Tavola di verità della negazione: P¬ PT (1)F (0)F (0)T (1).
Tavola di verità della congiunzione: Tavola di verità della disgiunzione
(inclusiva): Wittgenstein osserva che le tavole di verità, così come
sono, potrebbero addirittura fungere da pro-posizioni complesse di
un linguaggio artificiale: ad esempio, le tre tavole di verità sopra
riportate potrebbero essere usate in luogo di ¬ P,(P ^ Q),(P ∨ Q). Se si seguisse questo
suggerimento si di-sporrebbe di un simbolismo autoesplicativo ma anche
enormemente ingombrante. Notiamo ora una grossa differenza tra Frege e
Wittgenstein nel modo di concepire i connettivi logici. Per Frege ogni
connettivo denota una certa funzione che associa valori di verità a valori di
verità (dove i valori di verità vanno pensati come oggetti). Frege avrebbe
dunque interpretato la tavola di verità per un connettivo come un modo per
descrivere la funzione da esso denotata. Per Wittgenstein, invece, i connettivi
non denotano nulla. Tutto quel che c’è da dire circa un connettivo è che esso
consente di costruire proposizioni complesse il cui essere vere o false
dipende, secondo certe modalità determinate, dall’essere vere o false le
proposizioni costituenti. Chiedersi che cosa denoti un connettivo è, per
Wittgenstein, come chiedersi che cosa denotino le parentesi. A queste
considerazioni circa le proposizioni complesse è strettamente collegata la
concezione wittgensteiniana della logica. Né Frege né Russell avevano
saputo spiegare che cosa contraddistingue una proposizione logica da una
proposizione di altro tipo, e questo era proprio uno degli obbiettivi di
Wittgenstein nella stesura del Tractatus. Se si pensa ancora una volta al
valore di verità di una pro-posizione complessa come
determinato dai valori di verità dei suoi costituenti
elementari, si può constare che ci sono due casi limite: quello in
cui una proposizione complessa risulta vera, e quello in cui una proposizione
complessa risulta essere falsa, per tutte le possibili combinazioni di verità
dei costituenti elementari. Una proposizione del primo tipo Wittgenstein la
chiama ‘tautologia’, una del secondo tipo ‘contraddizione’. Ciò che
Wittgenstein sostiene circa la natura della logica è che essa consta per intero
di tautologie. É l’essere una tautologia ciò che contraddistingue una
proposizione logica da qualsiasi altra. Una pro-posizione logica non è tale per
via del suo contenuto ma, piuttosto, perché non ha contenuto, per-ché non dice
nulla. Le tautologie non possono fornirci alcuna informazione sulla realtà. Il
loro inte-ressa sta nel fatto che, essendo vere in virtù delle sole regole del
linguaggio, esse ci mostrano come questo funzioni. Avevamo detto che il
senso di una proposizione elementare è lo stato di cose che la proposizione
rappresenta. Alle proposizioni complesse questa nozione di senso
non può essere applicata senza modifiche. Il motivo è che, se P è
una proposizione complessa, non c’è uno stato di cose di cui si possa
ragionevolmente dire che è rappresentato da P. Tuttavia, se Wittgenstein ha
ragione nel dire che tutte le proposizioni complesse sono funzioni di
verità dei loro costituenti proposizionali ele-mentari, l’essere P vera o falsa
dipende pur sempre dal sussistere o non sussistere di certi stati di cose. Ciò
che Wittgenstein dunque propone è di identificare il senso di P con quelle
combinazioni del sussistere e non sussistere degli stati di cose S1, …, Sn per
le quali P risulta vero. “Il senso della PQP ^ QTTTTFFFTFFFFPQP ∨ QTTTTFTFTTFFF 7 Questa
pagina non è visibile nell’anteprima Non perderti parti importanti!
Questa pagina non è visibile nell’anteprima Non perderti parti importanti! è
un'attività cooperativa alla quale i partecipanti devono contribuire in maniera
appropriata. A tale fine bisogna che ciascuno si attenga a quattro
“massime”: CASALEGNO “FILOSOFIA DEL LINGUAGGIO”:1.SIGNIFICATO E CONDIZIONI
DI VERITA’:-“TRATTATO LOGICO-FILOSOFICO” di Wittgenstein: CAPIRE UNA PROPOSIZIONE
SIGNIFICA SAPERE COSA ACCADE SE ESSA E’VERA(alla base deve esserci la nozione
di verità)-LINGUAGGIO: usato x descrivere la realtà, attraverso la PROPORZIONE
che fornisce una descrizione della realtà= X COMPRENDERLA DOBBIAMO SAPERE QUALI
SONO LE CIRCOSTANZE IN CUI LA PROPORZIONE E’ APPROPIATA,DOBBIAMO CONOSCERE LE
SUE CONDIZIONI DI VERITA’(circostanze in cui essa è vera) FRA INTENDIMENTI POSSIBILI:
CONOSCERE LE CONDIZIONI DI VERITA’ DI UNA PROPOSIZIONE E’ DIVERSO DAL SAPERE SE
E’ V O F Es: l’uomo + alto del mondo è bruno = NON SO SE E’ VERA MA CONOSCO LE
CONDIZIONI DI VERITA’ES: Napoleon was defeated by Nelson = E’ VERA,MA NON
CONOSCO L’INGLESE E NON CONOSCO LE SUE CONDIZIONI DI VERITA’ CONOSCERE LE
CONDIZIONI DI VERITA’ DI UNA PROPOSIZIONE EQUIVALE A SAPERE COME SI FA X
STABILIRE SE ESSA E’ VERAEs: La luna ha un diametro superiore ai tremila km=
CONOSCO BENE LE CONDIZIONI DI VERITA’,MA NON CONOSCO IL METRO X VALUTARE IL
DIAMETRO DELLA LUNA XCIO’ NON SO COME SI FA A STABILIRE SE ESSA E’ VERA- PROPOSIZIONE=FRASE
DICHIARATIVA(x mezzo della quale si può fare un asserzione e ha senso chiedersi
se è v o f) = ENUNCIATO*tesi è plausibile ma può essere soggetta a critiche,2
obiezioni:1.ESPRESSIONI DOTATE DI SIGNIFICATO,MA NON ENUNCIATI ALLE QUALI NON
HA SENSO ATTRIBUIRE CONDIZIONI DI VERITA’: espressioni sintatticamente ben
formate che non sono frasi complete-PAROLE SINGOLE, ESPRESSIONI COME “VALIGIA
PESANTE”, FRASI INTERROGATIVE ESCLAMATIVE(Dov’è l’ombrello?, Mi porti il
conto!*LA NOZIONE DI VERITA’ NON E’ L’UNICA MA E’ CENTRALE NELLA TEORIA DEL
SIGNIFICATO: anche nell’analisi delle PAROLE SINGOLE,ESPRESSIONI COMPLESSE E
FRASI COMPLETE CHE NON SONO ENUNCIATI, LA NOZIONE DI CONDIZIONE DI VERITA’ NON
E’ SUFFICIENTE X UN’ANALISI ADEGUATA DEL SIGNIFICATO DEGLI ENUNCIATI -
concentrando l’attenzione sulle condizioni di verità si privilegia la
descrizione della realtà, ma questo atteggiamento è arbitrario: UN INDIVIDUO
PUO’ PROFERIRE ENUNCIATI X + FINI E IN TUTTI I CASI NON HA MOLTA IMP SE
GLI ENUNCIATI SONO V O F parlando dobbiamo tenere conto della situazione in cui
ci troviamo, delle info che possiedono i nostri interlocutori, delle loro
aspettative e delle regole della costruzione del discorso -GLI ENUNCIATI HANNO
CONDIZIONI DI VERITA’ CORRISPONDENTI AL LORO “SIGNIFICATO LETTERALE”, MA
E’INSUFFICIENTE X CAPIRE CIO’ CHE QUELL’ENUNCIATO PUO’ VOLER DIRE UN PARLANTE
IN UN CONTESTO CONCRETO. Morri s= lo studio della lingua si divide in 3 parti: SINTASSI:
studia segni in quanto tali. SEMANTICA: STUDIO DEGLI ASPETTI DI SIGNIFICATO CHE
HANNO ACHE FARE CON LE CONDIZIONI DI VERITA PRAGMATICA: si occupa di ciò che
con i segni si può fare,dei loro impegni concreti*GRICE: - conversazione =
ATTIVITA’ COOPERATIVA ALLE QUALE I PARTECIPANTI DEVONO CONTRIBUIRE IN MANIERA
APPROPRIATA, dobbiamo rifarci a 4 massime:1.QUANTITA’ = giusta via di
mezzo 2. QUALITA’= non dire cs false 3. RELAZIONE = cose
pertinenti 4. MODO= parlare in modo chiaro e ordinato*massime
violate x comunicare qualcosa che va al di là del significato letterale=
IMPLICATURA CONVERSAZIONALE. FREGE:primo filosofo analitico-contribuisce alla
nascita della logica moderna -inventa IDEOGRAFIA: linguaggio formale
*Ritiene che alla base della filosofia ci sia la teoria del significato-è
diffidente verso il linguaggio ordinario, è strumento inaffidabile= x questo
crea l’ideografia-LA FILOSOFIA DEVE LIBERARE IL PENSIERO DAI VINCOLI DELLA
PAROLA-TEORIA SEMANTICA: riguardo alla natura del significato linguistico
generale 1. SINN: senso (OGGETTIVO,NOZIONE LOGICA)2.BEDETUNG:significato=
riferimentoEs: Aristotole= SIGNIFICATO è l’individuo Aristotele. La montagna +
alta al mondo = SIGNIFICATO è il Monte Everest TERMINI SINGOLARI nomi propri E’
ABBREVIAZIONE DI UNA DESCRIZIONE D. es:
Totò, Grazia, New York descrizioni definite= ARTICOLO DET SING + NOME
SINGOLARE es: IL marito di Luisa- UN NOME HA SENSI DIVERSI, x diversità
di parlanti e tempi differenti=difetto del linguaggio naturale -le espressioni
hanno un significato in virtù del loro senso senso diverso da rappresentazione =
E’ SOGGETTIVA,PRIVATA, NOZIONE PSICOLOGICA:IMMAGINI,SENSAZIONI,STATI D’ANIMO
CHE EVOCANO PAROLE -GLI ENUNCIATI HANNO CONDIZIONI DI VERITA’
CORRISPONDENTI AL LORO “SIGNIFICATO LETTERALE”, MA E’INSUFFICIENTE X
CAPIRE CIO’ CHE QUELL’ENUNCIATO PUO’ VOLER DIRE UN PARLANTE IN UN CONTESTO
CONCRETO. Morris= lo studio della lingua si divide in 3 parti:1.SINTASSI:
studia segni in quanto tali2.SEMANTICA: STUDIO DEGLI ASPETTI DI SIGNIFICATO CHE
HANNO ACHE FARE CON LE CONDIZIONI DI VERITA’3.PRAGMATICA: si occupa di ciò che
con i segni si può fare,dei loro impegni concreti*GRICE: -conversazione =
ATTIVITA’ COOPERATIVA ALLE QUALE I PARTECIPANTI DEVONO CONTRIBUIRE IN MANIERA
APPROPRIATA, dobbiamo rifarci a 4 massime. QUANTITA’=giusta via di mezzo
QUALITA’= non dire cs false 3. RELAZIONE = cose
pertinenti .MODO = parlare in modo chiaro e ordinato*massime
violate x comunicare qualcosa che va al di là del significato letterale=
IMPLICATURA CONVERSAZIONALE 2. FREGE: primo filosofo analitico-contribuisce
alla nascita della logica moderna -inventa IDEOGRAFIA: linguaggio formale
*Ritiene che alla base della filosofia ci sia la teoria del significato-è
diffidente verso il linguaggio ordinario, è strumento inaffidabile= x questo
crea l’ideografia- LA FILOSOFIA DEVE LIBERARE IL PENSIERO DAI VINCOLI DELLA
PAROLA-TEORIA SEMANTICA: riguardo alla natura del significato linguistico
generale1.SINN: senso (OGGETTIVO,NOZIONE LOGICA) BEDETUNG: significato =
riferimento Es: Aristotole = SIGNIFICATO è l’individuo Aristotele. La montagna
+ alta al mondo= SIGNIFICATO è il Monte Everest-TERMINI SINGOLARI: * nomi
propri = E’ ABBREVIAZIONE DI UNA DESCRIZIONE D. es: Totò,Grazia,New York
*descrizioni definite= ARTICOLO DET SING+NOME SINGOLARE es: IL marito di
Luisa-UN NOME HA SENSI DIVERSI, x diversità di parlanti e tempi
differenti=difetto del linguaggio naturale-le espressioni hanno un significato
in virtù del loro senso-senso diverso da rappresentazione= E’
SOGGETTIVA,PRIVATA, NOZIONE PSICOLOGICA:IMMAGINI,SENSAZIONI,STATI D’ANIMO CHE
EVOCANO PAROLE Questa pagina non è visibile nell’anteprima Non perderti parti
importanti! FILOSOFIA DEL LINGUAGGIO – PAOLO CASALEGNO +
DISPENSE.INTRODUZIONEPlatone, Socrate, Medioevo PREMESSA PARADIGMA
CLASSICOFrege Russell Wittgenstein Tarski Quine Putnam FREGE, “SENSO E
SIGNIFICATO”; ENUNCIATI DI IDENTITÀ (A=A/A=B) TERMINI SINGOLARI (NOMI PROPRI e
DESCRIZIONI DEFINITE) ENUNCIATIPREDICATIPRINCIPI (del CONTESTO, di
COMPOSIZIONALITÀ e di SOSTITUIBILITÀ) QUANTIFICATORI RUSSELLLE
DESCRIZIONIDESCRIZIONI INDEFINITEWITTGENSTEINSTATI DI
COSEIMMAGINEFATTORAFFIGURAZIONEFUNZIONI DI VERITÀCONNETTIVI PROPOSIZIONALI TAUTOLOGIE
CONTRADDIZIONI TAVOLE DI VERITÀ LA NOZIONE DI VERITÀ IN LOGICA. TARSKI LINGUAGGIO
OGGETTO e METALINGUAGGIO DEFINIRE LA VERITÀ CONVENZIONE V COSTANTI
(INDIVIDUALI, PREDICATIVE e LOGICHE) SIMBOLI AUSILIARI SODDISFACIMENTO PARADOSSI
VERITÀ RELATIVA AD UN MODELLO CARNAP DESCRIZIONI DI STATO ESTENSIONE e
INTENSIONE POSSIBILITÀ e NECESSITÀ LOGICHE KRIPKE VERITÀ LOGICA MODELLO K VERBI
DI CREDENZA DEISSI (o INDICALI) QUINE DUE DOGMI DELL’EMPIRISMOANALITICO /
SINTETICO RIDUZIONISMO REGOLE SEMANTICHE TEORIA DELLA VERIFICAZIONE. il
significato non può essere ridotto ad un insieme di CDV. OBIEZIONE. Essa si basa
sulla constatazione ovvia che esistono espressioni che, pur avendo significato,
non sono enunciati e quindi non gli si possono attribuire CDV. Tra di esse
troviamo:- espressioni ben formate che non sono complete, come ad ex. “Ogni
student che hanno superato la prova”- frasi complete come le INTERROGATIVE e le
IMPERATIVE, come ad ex. “Dov’è l’ombrello?” o “Mi porti il conto!”Cosa si può
rispondere a questa obiezione???Che la NDV di una teoria del significato ne
resta comunque la nozione centrale, poiché anche il significato delle
espressioni che non sono enunciatti ha a che fare con la verità. Inoltre, non è
possibile spiegare in cosa consista per una parola essere nome di qualcosa se
non presupponendo la NDV. Ancora, la teoria del significato deve fare in ogni
caso appello alla NDV nell’analisi delle parole singole.Questa linea argomentativa
risale a Frege e si può applicare anche alle espressioni complesse. Riflettedoci,
ci si può convincere che la nostra capacità di capire ed usare frasi interrogative
ed imperative dipende dalla nostra capacità di usare il linguaggio per
descrivere il mondo. E ciò comporta sapere quando una descrizione è appropriata
o meno. OBIEZIONE #2.Essa consiste nel sostenere che la nozione di CDV non è
sufficiente per un’analisi adeguata del significato degli enunciati. Concentrando
l’attenzione sulle CDV si privilegia uno solo degli scopi del linguaggio. Per
cui, se si decide di ignorare i vari usi cui gli enunciati possono essere adibiti
per concentrarsi sul loro ruolo di veicoli di informazione, il linguaggio
appare impoverito. Poi, però, bisogna convincersi che anche da questo punto di
vista le cose sono molto più complicate, per due motivi:- parlando, dobbiamo
sempre tener conto della situazione in cui ci troviamo. Ci sono regole precise
di costruzione del discorso e per sapere questo, conoscere le CDV non basta. -
le CDV sono considerate di solito come qualcosa di fisso e stabile. Se il
contenuto informativo degli enunciati dipendesse dalle CDV dovrebbe essere a
sua volta stabile. In realtà, varia col variare dei contesto. Restano aperte
solo due opzioni:- respingere la nozione di CDV- ammettere che gli enunciate abbiano
CDV che corrispondono al loro SIGNIFICATO LETTERALERISPOSTA = evocate la distinzione
tra SEMANTICA e PRAGMATICA che risale a MORRIS.Secondo Morris, lo studio di una
lingua si compone di:SINTASSI che riguarda i segni in quanto tali;SEMANTICA che
riguarda il significato dei segni;PRAGMATICA che riguarda gli impieghi concreti
dei segni. L’obiezione, dunque, sembra confondere SEMANTICA e PRAGMATICA. Siamo
nella direzione giusta, ma serve qualche integrazione. Qualcuno potrebbe ribattre
che tutto ciò si riduce ad una mera definizione. Il problema è se questo modo di
circoscrivere la semantica sia giustificato. Sottolineiamo due punti. Non si è
tenuti a rendere conto di tutti gli usi possibili del linguaggio - il
significato non può essere ridotto ad un insieme di CDV.OBIEZIONE #1.Essa si
basa sulla constatazione ovvia che esistono espressioni che, pur avendo
significato, non sono enunciate quindi
non gli si possono attrbuire CDV. Tra di esse troviamo:- espressioni ben
formate che non sono complete, come ad ex. “Ogni student che hanno superato la
prova”- frasi complete come le INTERROGATIVE e le IMPERATIVE, come ad ex.
“Dov’è l’ombrello?” o “Mi porti l conto!”Cosa si può rispondere a questa
obiezione???Che la NDV di una teoria del significato ne resta comunque la
nozione centrale, poiché anche il significato delle espressioni che non sono
enunciatti ha a che fare con la verità. Inoltre, non è possibile spiegare in
cosa consista per una parola essere nome di qualcosa se non presupponendo la
NDV. Ancora, la teoria del significato deve fare in ogni caso appello alla NDV
nell’analisi delle parole singole.Questa linea argomenativa risale a Frege e si
può applicare anche alle espressioni complesse. Riflettendoci, ci si può
convincere che la nostra capacità di capire ed usare frasi interrogative ed
imperative dipende dalla nostra capacità di usare il linguaggio per descrivere
il mondo. E ciò comporta sapere quando una descrizione è appropriata o meno.
OBIEZIONE #2. Essa consiste nel sostenere che la nozione di CDV non è sufficiente
per un’analisi adeguata del significato degli enunciate. Concentrando l’attenzione
sulle CDV si privilegia uno solo degli scopi del linguaggio. Per cui, se si
decide di ignorare i vari usi cui gli enunciati ossono essere adibiti per concentrarsi
sul loro ruolo di veicoli di informazione, il linguaggio appare impoverito.
Poi, però, bisogna convincersi che anche da questo punto di vista le cose sono
molto più complicate, per due motivi. Parlando, dobbiamo sempre tener conto
della situazione in cui ci troviamo. Ci sono regole precise di costruzione del
discorso e per sapere questo, conoscere le CDV non basta. - le CDV sono
considerate di solito come qualcosa di fisso e stabile. Se il contenuto informativo
degli enunciatti dipendesse dalle CDV dovrebbe essere a sua volta stabile. In
realtà, varia col variare dei contesto. Restano aperte solo due opzioni:-
respingere la nozione di CDV- ammettere che gli enunciate abiano CDV che
corrispondono al loro SIGNIFICATO LETTERALE RISPOSTA = evocate la distinzione
tra SEMANTICA e PRAGMATICA che risale a MORRIS. Secondo Morris, lo studio di
una lingua si compone di: SINTASSI che riguarda i segni in quanto tali; SEMANTICA
che riguarda il significato dei segni; PRAGMATICA che riguarda gli impieghi
concreti dei segni. L’obiezione, dunque, sembra confondere SEMANTICA e
PRAGMATICA. Siamo nella direzione giusta, ma serve qualche integrazione.
Qualcuno potrebbe ribattere che tutto ciò si riduce ad una mera definizione. Il
problema è se questo modo di circoscrivere la semantica sia giustificato. Sottolineiamo
due punti. Non si è tenuti a rendere conto di tutti gli usi possibili del
linguaggio è legittima la distinzione tra semantica e pragmatica e, anzi, la
pragmatica presuppone la semantica, Questo secondo punto è messo bene in luce
dalla TEORIA DELLE IMPLICATURE CONVERSAZIONALI di GRICE, secondo cui una
conversazione è un’attività cooperativa alla quale i partecipanti devono
contribuire in modo appropriato; per questo è necessario che ciascuno si avvnga
a massime sotto quattro categorie conversazionali (alla funzioni di Kant):
CATEGORIA CONVERSAZIONALE DELLA QUANTITÀ: fornire informazioni né minori né
maggiori di quanto richiesto al momento. FUNZIONE CONVERSAZIONALE DELLA
QUALITÀ: non dire cose che credi false o per cui non ci sono prove adeguate.
FUNZIONE CONVERSAZIONALE DELLA RELAZIONE: dire cose perttnenti. FUNZIONE
CONVERSAZIONALE DEL MODO: essere perspicuo -- parlare in modo chiaro ed
ordinato, evitando oscurità ed ambiguità - è legittima la distinzione tra semantica
e pragmatica e, anzi, la pragmatica presuppone la semantica. Questo secondo
punto è messo bene in luce dalla TEORIA DELLE IMPLICATURE CONVERSAZIONALI di
GRICE, secondo cui una conversazione è un’attività cooperativa alla quale i
partecipanti devono contribuire in modo appropriato; per questo è necessario
che ciascuno si attenga a 4 massime. CATEGORIA CONVERSAZIONALE DELLA QUANTITÀ:
fornire informazioni né minori né maggiori di quanto richiesto al momento. QUALITÀ:
non dire cose che credi false o per cui non ci sono prove adeguate3- RELAZIONI:
dire cose pertinenti. FUNZIONE CONVERSAZIONALE DEL MODO: essere perspicuo. parlare
in modo chiaro ed ordinato, evitando oscurità ed ambiguità. Paolo Stefano
Casalegno. Paolo Casalegno. Keywords: filosofia linguistica. Refs.: Luigi
Speranza, “Grice e Casalegno” – The Swimming-Pool Library.
Grice e Casanova: l’implicatura conversazionale
del desiderio omoerotico – filosofia veneziana – filosofia italiana – Luigi
Speranza (Venezia).
Filosofo italiano. Grice: “It is fascinating to analyse what Casanova calls
‘piegadura’, or ‘piegadure,’ in the plural – bendings – my implicatura is a bit
like his piegadura, only less acute!” -- Grice: “I would hardly call Casanova a
philosopher, but my wife hardly would not!” -- Giacomo Casanova ritratto dal
fratello Francesco Giacomo Girolamo Casanova (Venezia) avventuriero, scrittore,
poeta, alchimista, esoterista, diplomatico, finanziere, scienziato, filosofo e
agente segreto della Serenissima italiano, cittadino della Repubblica di
Venezia. Benché di lui resti una produzione letterariatra trattati e
testi saggistici d'argomento vario (s'occupò, nell'ampia gamma dei suoi
interessi, perfino di matematica) e opere letterarie in prosa come in
versivastissima, viene a tutt'oggi ricordato principalmente come un
avventuriero e, per via della sua vita amorosa a dir poco movimentata, come
colui che fece del proprio nome l'antonomasia del soave e raffinato seduttore e
libertino. A tutt'oggi un playboy viene spesso chiamato
"casanova". A questa sua fama di grande conquistatore di donne
contribuì verosimilmente la sua opera più importante e celebre: Histoire de ma
vie (Storia della mia vita), in cui l'autore descrive, con la massima
franchezza (pur non per questo privandosi d'anedotti romanzeschi e alcuni
abbellimenti), le sue avventure, i suoi viaggi e, soprattutto, i suoi
innumerevolissimi incontri galanti. L'Histoire è scritta in francese: tale
scelta linguistica fu dettata principalmente da motivi di diffusione
dell'opera, in quanto all'epoca il francese era la lingua più conosciuta e
parlata dalle élite d'Europa. Fra corti e salotti vari, si ritrovò a
vivere, quasi senza rendersene conto, un momento di svolta epocale della
storia, non comprendendo affatto lo spirito di fortissimo rinnovamento che
avrebbe fatto virare la storia in direzioni mai percorse prima; rimase infatti
ancorato fino alla fine dei propri giorni ai valori, precetti e credenze
dell'ancien régime e della sua rispettiva classe dominante, l'aristocrazia,
alla quale era stato escluso per nascita e della quale cercò disperatamente di
far parte, anche quando essa era ormai irrimediabilmente avviata al crepuscolo,
per tutta la propria vita. Tra le personalità eccelse dell'epoca che ebbe modo
di conoscere personalmente, e di cui ci ha lasciato testimonianza diretta, si
possono citare Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Voltaire, Madame de Pompadour, Wolfgang
Amadeus Mozart, Benjamin Franklin, Caterina II di Russia e Federico II di
Prussia. Dalla nascita alla fuga dai Piombi. Venezia, Calle della Commedia
(ora Malipiero) Giacomo Girolamo Casanova nacque a Venezia, in Calle della
Commedia (ora Calle Malipiero), nei pressi della chiesa di San Samuele, dove fu
anche battezzato, il 2 aprile del 1725. Molte opere enciclopediche o
letterarie recano erroneamente i nomi di battesimo Giovanni Giacomo, la cui
origine è sicuramente da ricercarsi nella pubblicazione dell'opera del 1835
Biografia degli italiani illustri nelle scienze, lettere ed arti del secolo
XVIII e de' contemporanei, Emilio De Tipaldo, in cui l'autore della voce
relativa al Casanova, Bartolomeo Gamba, intestò erroneamente la voce a un certo
Giovanni Giacomo Casanova. Successivamente, l'errore fu ripetuto nel 1931 nella
voce su C. dell'Enciclopedia Treccani e da allora è spesso riapparso. Si
può leggere il nome corretto nel documento relativo al battesimo del
Casanova. «Addì 5 aprile 1725 Giacomo Girolamo fig.o di D. Gaietano
Giuseppe C. del q.(uondam) Giac.o Parmegiano comico, et di Giovanna Maria,
giogali, nato il 2 corr. battezzato daGio. Batta Tosello sacerd. di chiesa de
licentiaComp. il signor Angelo Filosi q.(uondam) Bartolomeo stà a S. Salvador.
Lev. Regina Salvi.» (Storia della mia vita, Mondadori) Il padre, Gaetano
Casanova, era un attore e ballerino parmigiano di remote origini spagnole
(almeno stando alla dubbia genealogia tracciata dal Casanova all'inizio
dell'Histoire, gli avi paterni sarebbero stati originari di Saragozza, nell'Aragona[E
3]), mentre la madre, Zanetta Farussi, era un'attrice veneziana che, nella sua
professione, ebbe di gran lunga maggior successo del marito, dato che la
troviamo menzionata persino da Carlo Goldoni nelle sue Memorie, ove la definì:
"...una vedova bellissima e assai valente". La voce popolare lo
considerava frutto di una relazione adulterina della madre con il patrizio
veneziano Michele Grimani[E 4] e Casanova stesso affermò, seppur in maniera
criptica nel suo libello Né amori né donne, di essere figlio naturale del
patrizio. Ma ulteriori indizi a suffragio della tesi potrebbero derivare dal
fatto che, dopo la morte del padre, i Grimani si presero cura di lui con
un'assiduità che appare andasse oltre i normali rapporti di protezione e
liberalità che le famiglie patrizie veneziane praticavano nei confronti delle
persone che, a qualche titolo, avevano servito la casata. Il che troverebbe
conferma anche nel fatto che la giustizia della Repubblica, solitamente
piuttosto severa, non infierì mai particolarmente nei suoi confronti. Dopo la
sua nascita, la coppia ebbe altri cinque figli: Francesco, Giovanni Battista,
Faustina Maddalena, Maria Maddalena Antonia Stella e Gaetano Alvise.
Chiesa di San Samuele, Venezia Rimasto orfano di padre a soli otto anni
d'età ed essendo la madre costantemente in viaggio a causa della sua
professione, Giacomo fu allevato dalla nonna materna Marzia Baldissera in
Farussi. Da piccolo era di salute cagionevole e per questo motivo la nonna lo
condusse da una fattucchiera che, eseguendo un complicato rituale, riuscì a
guarirlo dai disturbi da cui era affetto. Dopo quell'esperienza infantile,
l'interesse per le pratiche magiche lo accompagnerà per tutta la vita, ma lui
stesso era il primo a ridere della credulità che tanti manifestavano nei
confronti dell'esoterismo. All'età di nove anni fu mandato a Padova, dove
rimase fino al termine degli studi; nel 1737 s'iscrisse all'università dove,
come ricorda nelle Memorie, si sarebbe laureato in diritto; la questione
dell'effettivo conseguimento del titolo accademico è molto controversa: infatti
Casanova descrive nelle Memorie gli anni passati all'Padova, sostenendo di
essersi laureato. Analoga affermazione risulta anche dalla dedica dell'opera
del 1797 a Leonard Snetlage, il cui frontespizio reca scritto A Leonard
Snetlage, Docteur en droit de l'Université de Gottingue, Jacques Casanova,
docteur en droit de l'Universitè de Padoue. Inoltre da documenti risulta che il
Casanova abbia lavorato nello studio dell'avvocato Marco Da Lezze, dal che si
era presunto che, compiuti gli studi e conseguita la laurea, fosse andato a
compiere il praticantato presso il Da Lezze. Nonostante queste fonti, il primo
a dubitare del titolo conseguito dal Casanova fu Pompeo Molmenti, ma ben presto
gli studi del Brunelli, il quale aveva reperito documenti che dimostravano in
modo certo l'avvenuta immatricolazione al primo anno e le successive
iscrizioni, convinsero tutti gli autori dell'effettivo conseguimento del titolo
accademico; in tal senso, tra i tanti, anche James Rives Childs (Casanova).
Successivamente Enzo Grossato pose nuovamente in dubbio il conseguimento del
titolo rifacendosi ai registri di laurea, i quali non menzionano il nome del
veneziano. Dello stesso avviso Piero Del Negro, il quale rilevò che, oltre ai
registri consultati dal Grossato, anche un ulteriore codice, il Registro
dottorati 1737 usque ad 1747, non riportava il nome del Casanova; inoltre egli
constatò che il Casanova non aveva mai parlato del titolo se non in epoca
tarda, quando ormai ricostruire la circostanza sarebbe stato difficile per
chiunque. Terminati gli studi, Giacomo Casanova viaggiò a Corfù e a
Costantinopoli, per poi rientrare a Venezia nel 1742. Nella sua città natale
ottenne un impiego presso lo studio dell'avvocato Marco da Lezze. La nonna
Marzia Baldissera morì. Con la morte della nonna, alla quale era legatissimo,
si chiuse un capitolo importante della sua vita: la madre decise di lasciare la
bella e costosa casa in Calle della Commedia[E 7] e di sistemare i figli in modo
economicamente più sostenibile. Questo evento segnò profondamente Giacomo,
togliendogli un importante punto di riferimento. Nello stesso anno fu
rinchiuso, a causa della sua condotta piuttosto turbolenta, nel Forte di
Sant'Andrea dalla fine di marzo alla fine di luglio. Più che l'applicazione di
una pena, fu un avvertimento tendente a cercare di correggerne il
carattere. Messo in libertà, partì, grazie ai buoni uffici materni, per
la Calabria, al seguito del vescovo di Martirano che si recava ad assumere la
diocesi. Una volta giunto a destinazione, spaventato per le condizioni di
povertà del luogo, chiese e ottenne congedo. Viaggiò a Napoli e a Roma, dove
nel 1744 prese servizio presso il cardinal Acquaviva, ambasciatore della Spagna
presso la Santa Sede. L'esperienza si concluse presto, a causa della sua
condotta imprudente: infatti aveva nascosto nel Palazzo di Spagna, residenza
ufficiale del cardinale, una ragazza fuggita di casa. Targa
commemorativa su Palazzo Malipiero Nel febbraio del 1744 arrivò ad Ancona, dove
era già stato sette mesi prima. Durante il primo soggiorno nella città era
stato costretto a passare la quarantena nel lazzaretto, dove aveva intessuto
una relazione con una schiava greca, alloggiata nella camera superiore alla
sua.[E 9] Fu però durante il suo secondo soggiorno ad Ancona che C. ebbe
una delle sue più strane avventure: si innamorò di un seducente cantante
castrato, Bellino, convinto che si trattasse in realtà di una donna. Fu solo
dopo una corte serrata che Casanova riuscì a scoprire ciò che sperava: il
castrato era in realtà una ragazza, Teresa (con cui avrà il figlio illegittimo
Cesarino Lanti), che, per sopravvivere dopo essere rimasta orfana, si faceva
passare per un castrato in modo da poter cantare nei teatri dello Stato della
Chiesa, dove era vietata la presenza di donne sul palcoscenico. Il nome di
Teresa ricorre spesso nel testo dell'Histoire, a testimonianza dei molti
incontri avvenuti, negli anni, nelle capitali europee dove Teresa mieteva
successi con le sue interpretazioni. Ritornò quindi a Venezia e, per un certo
periodo, si guadagnò da vivere suonando il violino nel teatro di San Samuele,
di proprietà dei nobili Grimani che, alla morte del padre, avvenuta
prematuramente, avevano assunto ufficialmente la tutela del ragazzo,
avvalorando la voce popolare secondo la quale uno dei Grimani, Michele, fosse
il vero padre di Giacomo. Nel 1746 avvenne l'incontro con il patrizio
veneziano Matteo Bragadin, che avrebbe migliorato sostanzialmente le sue
condizioni. Colpito da un malore, il nobiluomo fu soccorso da Casanova e si
convinse che, grazie a quel tempestivo intervento, aveva potuto salvarsi la
vita. Di conseguenza prese a considerarlo quasi come un figlio, contribuendo,
finché visse, al suo mantenimento. Nelle ore concitate in cui assisteva
Bragadin, Casanova venne in contatto con i due più fraterni amici del senatore,
Marco Barbaro[E 11] e Marco Dandolo; anch'essi gli si affezionarono
profondamente e, finché vissero, lo tennero sotto la loro protezione. La
frequentazione con i nobili attirò l'interesse degli Inquisitori di Stato e
Casanova, su consiglio di Bragadin, lasciò Venezia in attesa di tempi migliori.
Nel 1749 incontrò Henriette, che sarebbe stata forse il più grande amore della
sua vita. Lo pseudonimo nascondeva probabilmente l'identità di una nobildonna
di Aix-en-Provence, forse Adelaide de Gueidan. Su questa e su altre
identificazioni, i "casanovisti" si sono accapigliati per decenni. In
linea di massima, come è stato sostenuto da molti studiosi, i personaggi citati
nelle Memorie sono reali. Al più, l'autore potrebbe essersi cautelato con
qualche piccola accortezza: spesso, trattandosi di donne sposate, alcune sono
citate con le iniziali o con nomi di fantasia, talvolta l'età viene un po'
modificata per galanteria o per vanità dell'autore che non amava riferire di
avventure con donne considerate, con i criteri di allora, in età matura, ma in
generale le persone sono identificabili e anche i fatti riferiti sono risultati
corretti e riscontrabili. Innumerevoli identificazioni e notizie documentali
hanno confermato il racconto. Se qualche errore c'è stato, lo si deve
anche al fatto che, all'epoca in cui furono scritte le Memorie (dal 1789 in
poi), erano passati molti anni dai fatti e, per quanto l'autore si possa essere
aiutato con diari o appunti, non era facile incasellare cronologicamente gli
eventi. Ogni tanto l'autore si faceva però trascinare dalla sua visione
teatrale delle cose e non rinunciava a qualche "colpo di teatro", il
che peraltro contribuisce a rendere la lettura più piacevole. Il problema
dell'attendibilità del racconto casanoviano è tuttavia molto complesso: ciò che
è difficile o, in molti casi, impossibile da valutare è se i rapporti che Casanova
riferisce di aver intrattenuto con i personaggi siano rispondenti alla realtà
dei fatti. Taluni studiosi hanno ritenuto che nel corpus delle Memorie siano
stati inseriti dei passaggi totalmente romanzati e di pura invenzione, basati
comunque su personaggi storicamente esistiti ed effettivamente presenti nel
luogo e nel tempo della descrizione. Il caso più clamoroso è quello che
riguarda la relazione di Casanova con suor M.M.e i conseguenti rapporti con
l'ambasciatore di Francia De Bernis. Si tratta di una delle parti più valide
dell'opera dal punto di vista letterario e stilistico. Il ritmo del racconto è
serratissimo e la tensione emotiva dei personaggi di straordinario realismo.
Secondo alcuni studiosi il racconto è assolutamente veritiero e si è
ripetutamente tentata l'identificazione della donna, secondo altri il racconto
è di pura fantasia e basato sulle confidenze del cuoco dell'ambasciatore (tale
Rosier), che effettivamente Casanova conosceva molto bene. La diatriba tra le
varie tesi continuerà ma, comunque stiano le cose, il valore dell'opera non
cambia, perché ciò che perde il Casanova memorialista lo guadagna il Casanova
romanziere. Rientrato a Venezia nella primavera del 1750, nel giugno successivo
decise di partire per Parigi. A Milano si incontrò con l'amico Antonio Stefano
Balletti, figlio della celebre attrice Silvia, e con lui proseguì alla volta
della capitale francese. Durante il viaggio, a Lione, Casanova aderì alla
Massoneria.[E 17] Non sembra che la decisione fosse ascrivibile a inclinazioni
ideologiche, ma piuttosto alla pratica esigenza di procurarsi utili
appoggi. «Ogni giovane che viaggia, che vuol conoscere il mondo, che non
vuol essere inferiore agli altri e escluso dalla compagnia dei suoi coetanei,
deve farsi iniziare alla Massoneria, non fosse altro per sapere
superficialmente cos'è. Deve tuttavia fare attenzione a scegliere bene la
loggia nella quale entrare, perché, anche se nella loggia i cattivi soggetti
non possono far nulla, possono tuttavia sempre esserci e l'aspirante deve
guardarsi dalle amicizie pericolose.» (C., Memorie) Ottenne qualche
risultato: infatti molti personaggi incontrati nel corso della sua vita, come
Mozart[E 18] e Franklin erano massoni e alcune facilitazioni ricevute in varie
occasioni sembrerebbero dovute ai benefici derivanti dal far parte di un'organizzazione
ben radicata in quasi tutti i paesi europei. Giunti a Parigi, Balletti presentò
Casanova alla madre, che lo accolse con familiarità; la generosa ospitalità
della famiglia Balletti si protrasse per i due anni in cui visse nella capitale
francese. Durante la permanenza si applicò allo studio del francese, che
sarebbe divenuto la sua lingua letteraria oltre che, in molti casi, epistolare.
Ritornato a Venezia dopo il lungo soggiorno parigino e altri viaggi a Dresda,
Praga e Vienna, il 26 luglio 1755, all'alba, fu arrestato e ristretto nei
Piombi. Come d'uso all'epoca, al condannato non venne notificato il capo
d'accusa, né la durata della detenzione cui era stato condannato. Ciò, come in
seguito scrisse, si rivelò dannoso, poiché se avesse saputo che la pena era di
durata tutto sommato sopportabile, si sarebbe ben guardato dall'affrontare il
rischio mortale dell'evasione e soprattutto il pericolo della possibile
successiva eliminazione da parte degli inquisitori, i quali, spesso, arrivavano
a operare anche molto lontano dai confini della Repubblica. Questi magistrati
erano l'espressione più evidente dell'arbitrarietà del potere oligarchico che
governava Venezia. Erano insieme tribunale speciale e centrale di
spionaggio. Sui motivi reali dell'arresto si è discusso parecchio. Certo
è che il comportamento di Casanova era tenuto d'occhio dagli inquisitori e rimangono
molte riferte (rapporti delle spie al soldo degli Inquisitori) che ne
descrivevano minutamente i comportamenti, soprattutto quelli considerati
socialmente sconvenienti. In definitiva l'accusa era quella di
"libertinaggio" compiuto con donne sposate, di spregio della religione,
di circonvenzione di alcuni patrizi e in generale di un comportamento
pericoloso per il buon nome e la stabilità del regime aristocratico. Di fatto,
Casanova conduceva una vita alquanto disordinata, ma né più né meno di tanti
rampolli delle casate illustri: come questi giocava, barava e aveva anche delle
idee abbastanza personali in materia di religione e, quel che è peggio, non ne
faceva mistero. L'arresto di Casanova (illustrazione per Storia
della mia fuga) Anche la sua adesione alla Massoneria, che era nota agli
Inquisitori, non gli giovava, così come la scandalosa relazione intrattenuta
con "suor M.M.", certamente appartenente al patriziato, monaca nel
convento di S. Maria degli Angeli in Murano e amante dell'ambasciatore di Francia,
abate De Bernis. Insomma, l'oligarchia al potere non poteva tollerare oltre che
un individuo ritenuto socialmente pericoloso restasse in circolazione.
Tuttavia gli appoggi, di cui certamente poteva disporre nell'ambito del
patriziato, lo aiutarono notevolmente, sia nell'ottenere una condanna
"leggera" sia durante la reclusione, e forse addirittura ne
agevolarono l'evasione. La contraddizione è solo apparente, perché Casanova fu
sempre un personaggio ambivalente: per estrazione e mezzi faceva parte di una
classe subalterna, anche se contigua alla nobiltà, ma per frequentazioni e
protezioni poteva sembrare far parte, a qualche titolo, della classe al potere.
A questo riguardo va anche considerato che il suo presunto padre naturale,
Michele Grimani, apparteneva a una delle famiglie più illustri
dell'aristocrazia veneziana, annoverando ben tre dogi e altrettanti cardinali.
Questa paternità fu rivendicata da Casanova stesso nel libello Né amori né
donne e sembra che anche la somiglianza di aspetto e di corporatura dei due
avvalorasse parecchio la tesi. Dalla fuga dai Piombi al ritorno a Venezia
(17561774) Presunto ritratto di Giacomo Casanova, attribuito a Francesco
Narici, e in passato ad Anton Raphael Mengs o al suo allievo Giovanni Battista
Casanova (fratello di Giacomo) Appena riavutosi dallo shock dell'arresto,
Casanova cominciò a organizzare la fuga. Un primo tentativo fu vanificato da
uno spostamento di cella. Nella notte fra il 31 ottobre e il 1º novembre 1756
mise in atto il suo piano: passando dalla cella alle soffitte, attraverso un
foro nel soffitto praticato da un compagno di reclusione, il frate Marino
Balbi, uscì sul tetto e successivamente si calò di nuovo all'interno del
palazzo da un abbaino. Passò quindi, in compagnia del complice, attraverso
varie stanze e fu infine notato da un passante, che pensò fosse un visitatore
rimasto chiuso all'interno e chiamò uno degli addetti al palazzo il quale aprì
il portone, consentendo ai due di uscire e di allontanarsi fulmineamente con
una gondola. Si diressero velocemente verso nord. Il problema era
seminare gli inseguitori: infatti la fuga gettava un'ombra sull'amministrazione
della giustizia di Venezia ed era chiaro che gli Inquisitori avrebbero tentato
di tutto per riacciuffare gli evasi. Dopo brevi soggiorni a Bolzano (dove i banchieri
Menz lo ospitarono e aiutarono economicamente), Monaco di iera (dove Casanova
finalmente si liberò della scomoda presenza del frate), Augusta e Strasburgo,
il 5 gennaio 1757 arrivò a Parigi, dove nel frattempo il suo amico De Bernis
era divenuto ministro e quindi gli appoggi non gli mancavano.
Illustrazione da Storia della mia fuga Rinfrancato e trovata una
sistemazione, iniziò a dedicarsi alla sua specialità: brillare in società,
frequentando quanto di meglio la capitale potesse offrire. Conobbe tra gli
altri la marchesa d'Urfé nobildonna ricchissima e stravagante, con la quale
intrattenne una lunga relazione, dilapidando cospicue somme di denaro che lei
gli metteva a disposizione, soggiogata dal suo fascino e dal consueto corredo
di rituali magici. Il 28 marzo 1757 assistette, come accompagnatore di
alcune dame «incuriosite da quell'orrendo spettacolo» (mentre lui distolse lo
sguardo) e di un conte trevigiano, alla cruenta esecuzione (tramite
squartamento) di Robert François Damiens, che aveva attentato alla vita di
Luigi XV. Molto fantasioso, come al solito, si fece promotore di una
lotteria nazionale, allo scopo di rinsaldare le finanze dello stato. Osservava
che questo era l'unico modo di far contribuire di buon grado i cittadini alla
finanza pubblica. L'intuizione era talmente valida che ancora adesso il sistema
è molto praticato. L'iniziativa venne autorizzata ufficialmente e Casanova
venne nominato "Ricevitore" il 27 gennaio 1758. Nel settembre
dello stesso anno, De Bernis fu nominato cardinale; un mese dopo Casanova fu
incaricato dal governo francese di una missione segreta nei Paesi
Bassi.[26] Al suo ritorno fu coinvolto in un'intricata faccenda
riguardante una gravidanza indesiderata di un'amica, la scrittrice veneziana
Giustiniana Wynne. Di madre italiana e padre inglese, Giustiniana era stata al
centro dell'attenzione per la sua rovente relazione con il patrizio veneziano
Andrea Memmo. Questi aveva cercato in tutti i modi di sposarla, ma la ragion di
stato (lui era membro di una delle dodici famigliecosiddette apostolichepiù
nobili di Venezia) glielo aveva impedito, a causa di alcuni oscuri trascorsi
della madre di lei, e, in seguito allo scandalo che ne era sortito, i Wynne
avevano lasciato Venezia.[27] Giunta a Parigi, trovandosi in stato interessante
e di conseguenza in grosse difficoltà, la ragazza si rivolse per aiuto a
Casanova, che aveva conosciuto a Venezia e che era anche ottimo amico del suo
amante. La lettera con cui implorava aiuto è stata ritrovata[28] ed è singolare
la schiettezza con cui la ragazza si rivolge a Casanova, dimostrando una
fiducia totale in quest'ultimo,[29] tenuto conto dell'enorme rischio a cui si
esponeva (e lo esponeva) nel caso in cui il messaggio fosse caduto nelle mani
sbagliate. Casanova si prodigò per darle aiuto, ma incorse in una
denuncia per concorso in pratiche abortive, presentata dall'ostetrica Reine
Demay in combutta con un losco personaggio, Louis Castel-Bajac, per estorcere
denaro in cambio di una ritrattazione. Benché l'accusa fosse molto grave,
Casanova riuscì a cavarsela con la consueta presenza di spirito e fu
prosciolto, mentre la sua accusatrice finì in carcere. L'amica abbandonò l'idea
di interrompere la gravidanza e in seguito partorì nel convento in cui si era
rifugiata. Ceduti i suoi interessi nella lotteria, Casanova si imbarcò in una
fallimentare operazione imprenditoriale, una manifattura di tessuti, che
naufragò anche a causa di una forte restrizione delle esportazioni derivante
dalla guerra in corso. I debiti che ne derivarono lo condussero per un po' in
carcere (agosto 1759). Come al solito, il provvidenziale intervento della ricca
e potente marchesa d'Urfé lo tolse dall'incomoda situazione.[30] Gli anni
successivi furono un intenso continuo peregrinare per l'Europa. Si recò nei Paesi
Bassi, poi in Svizzera, dove incontrò Voltaire nel castello di Ferney.
L'incontro con Voltaire, il maggior intellettuale vivente all'epoca, occupa
parecchie pagine dell'Histoire ed è riferito nei minimi particolari; Casanova
esordì dicendo che era il giorno più felice della sua vita e che per vent'anni
aveva aspettato di incontrarsi con il suo "maestro"; Voltaire gli
rispose che sarebbe stato ancora più onorato se, dopo quell'incontro, lo avesse
aspettato per altri vent'anni.[31] Un riscontro obiettivo si trova in una
lettera di Voltaire a Nicolas-Claude Thieriot, datata 7 luglio 1760, in cui la
figura del visitatore viene tratteggiata con ironia. Lo stesso Casanova non era
d'accordo con molte idee di Voltaire («Voltaire [...] doveva capire che il
popolo per la pace generale della nazione ha bisogno di vivere nell'ignoranza»,
dirà in seguito), e quindi rimase insoddisfatto, anche se scrisse poi delle
parole di stima per il patriarca dell'illuminismo: «Partii assai contento di
aver messo quel grande atleta alle corde l'ultimo giorno. Ma di lui mi rimase
un brutto ricordo che mi spinse per dieci anni di seguito a criticare tutto ciò
che quel grand'uomo dava al pubblico di vecchio o di nuovo. Oggi me ne pento,
anche se, quando leggo ciò che pubblicai contro di lui, mi sembra di aver
ragionato giustamente nelle mie critiche. Comunque avrei dovuto tacere,
rispettarlo e dubitare dei miei giudizi. Dovevo riflettere che senza i sarcasmi
che mi dispiacquero il terzo giorno, avrei trovato tutti i suoi scritti sublimi.
Questa sola riflessione avrebbe dovuto impormi il silenzio, ma un uomo in
collera crede sempre di aver ragione.[31]» In seguito andò in Italia, a
Genova, Firenze e Roma.[33] Qui viveva il fratello Giovanni, pittore, allievo
di Mengs. Durante il soggiorno presso il fratello fu ricevuto dal papa Clemente
XIII. Nel 1762 ritornò a Parigi, dove riprese a esercitare pratiche
esoteriche insieme alla marchesa d'Urfé, fino a che quest'ultima, resasi conto
di essere stata per anni presa in giro con l'illusione di rinascere giovane e
bella per mezzo di pratiche magiche, troncò ogni rapporto con l'improvvisato
stregone che, dopo poco tempo, lasciò Parigi, dove il clima che si era creato
non gli era più favorevole, per Londra, dove fu presentato a corte.[34] Nella
capitale inglese conobbe la funesta Charpillon, con la quale cercò di intessere
una relazione. In questa circostanza anche il grande seduttore mostrò il suo
lato debole e questa scaltra ragazza lo portò fin sull'orlo del suicidio. Non
che fosse un grande amore, ma evidentemente Casanova non poteva accettare di
essere trattato con indifferenza da una ragazza qualsiasi. E più lui vi
s'intestardiva, più lei lo menava per il naso. Alla fine riuscì a liberarsi di
questa assurda situazione e si diresse verso Berlino.[36] Qui incontrò il re
Federico il Grande, che gli offrì un modesto posto d'insegnante nella scuola
dei cadetti. Rifiutata sdegnosamente la proposta, Casanova si diresse verso la
Russia e giunse a San Pietroburgo nel dicembre del 1764.[37] L'anno successivo
si recò a Mosca e in seguito incontrò l'imperatrice Caterina II,[38] anche lei
annessa alla straordinaria collezione di personaggi storici incontrati nel
corso delle sue infinite peregrinazioni. Merita una riflessione la
straordinaria facilità con cui Casanova aveva accesso a personaggi di
primissimo piano, che certo non erano usi a incontrarsi con chiunque.
Evidentemente la fama lo precedeva regolarmente e, almeno per effetto della
curiosità suscitata, gli consentiva di penetrare nei circoli più esclusivi
delle capitali. Un po' la questione si autoalimentava, nel senso che
in qualsiasi luogo si trovasse, Casanova si dava sempre un gran da fare per
ottenere lettere di presentazione per la destinazione successiva. Evidentemente
ci aggiungeva del suo: aveva conversazione brillante, una cultura enciclopedica
fuori del comune e, quanto a esperienze di viaggio, ne aveva accumulate
infinite, in un'epoca in cui la gente non viaggiava un granché. Insomma
Casanova il suo fascino lo aveva, e non lo spendeva solo con le donne.
Nel 1766 in Polonia avvenne un episodio che segnò profondamente Casanova: il
duello con il conte Branicki.[39] Questi, durante un litigio a causa della
ballerina veneziana Anna Binetti,[40] lo aveva apostrofato chiamandolo poltrone
veneziano. Il conte era un personaggio di rilievo alla corte del re Stanislao
II Augusto Poniatowski e per uno straniero privo di qualsiasi copertura
politica non era molto consigliabile contrastarlo. Quindi, anche se offeso
pesantemente dal conte, qualsiasi uomo di normale prudenza si sarebbe ritirato
in buon ordine; Casanova, invece, che evidentemente non era solo un amabile
conversatore e un abile seduttore, ma anche un uomo di coraggio, lo sfidò in un
duello alla pistola. Faccenda assai pericolosa, sia in caso di soccombenza sia
in caso di vittoria, in quanto era facile attendersi che gli amici del conte ne
avrebbero rapidamente vendicato la morte. Targa commemorativa del soggiorno di
Casanova a Madrid Il conte ne uscì ferito in modo gravissimo, ma non abbastanza
da impedirgli di pregare onorevolmente i suoi di lasciare andare indenne
l'avversario, che si era comportato secondo le regole. Seppur ferito abbastanza
seriamente a un braccio, Casanova riuscì a lasciare l'inospitale paese. La
buona stella sembrava avergli voltato le spalle. Si diresse a Vienna, da dove
fu espulso.Tornò a Parigi, dove, alla fine di ottobre, lo raggiunse la notizia
della morte di Bragadin, il quale, più che un protettore, era stato per
Casanova un padre adottivo. Pochi giorni dopo (6 novembre 1767) fu colpito da
una lettre de cachet del re Luigi XV, con la quale gli veniva intimato di
lasciare il paese. Il provvedimento era stato richiesto dai parenti della
marchesa d'Urfé, i quali intendevano mettere al riparo da ulteriori rischi le
pur cospicue sostanze di famiglia. Si recò quindi in Spagna, ormai alla
disperata ricerca di una qualche occupazione, ma anche qui non andò meglio: fu
gettato in prigione con motivi pretestuosi e la faccenda durò più di un
mese. Lasciò la Spagna e approdò in Provenza, dove però si ammalò gravemente
(gennaio 1769). Fu assistito grazie all'intervento della sua amata Henriette
che, nel frattempo sposatasi e rimasta vedova, aveva conservato di lui un
ottimo ricordo. Riprese presto il suo peregrinare, recandosi a Roma, Napoli,
Bologna, Trieste. In questo periodo si infittirono i contatti con gli
Inquisitori veneziani per ottenere l'agognata grazia, che finalmente giunse il
3 settembre 1774. Dal ritorno a Venezia alla morte. La narrazione delle
Memorie casanoviane cessa alla metà di febbraio del 1774. Ritornato a Venezia
dopo diciott'anni, Casanova riannodò le vecchie amicizie, peraltro mai sopite
grazie a un'intensissima attività epistolare. Per vivere, si propose agli
Inquisitori come spia, proprio in favore di coloro che erano stati tanto decisi
prima a condannarlo alla reclusione e poi a costringerlo a un lungo esilio. Le
riferte di Casanova non furono mai particolarmente interessanti e la
collaborazione si trascinò stancamente fino a interrompersi per "scarso
rendimento". Probabilmente qualcosa in lui si opponeva a esser causa di
persecuzioni che, avendole provate in prima persona, conosceva bene.
L'ultima abitazione veneziana di Casanova Rimasto senza fonti di
sostentamento, si dedicò all'attività di scrittore, utilizzando la sua vasta
rete di relazioni per procurare sottoscrittori alle sue opere.[49] All'epoca si
usava far sottoscrivere un ordinativo di libri prima ancora di aver dato alle
stampe o addirittura terminato l'opera, in modo da esser certi di poter sostenere
gli elevati costi di stampa. Infatti la composizione avveniva manualmente e le
tirature erano bassissime. Nel 1775 pubblicò il primo tomo della traduzione
dell'Iliade. La lista di sottoscrittori, cioè di coloro che avevano finanziato
l'opera, era davvero notevole e comprendeva oltre duecentotrenta nomi fra
quelli più in vista a Venezia, comprese le alte autorità dello stato, sei
Procuratori di San Marco in carica[50] due figli del doge Mocenigo, professori
dell'Padova e così via. Va rilevato che, per essere un ex carcerato evaso e poi
graziato, aveva delle frequentazioni di altissimo livello. Il fatto di far
parte della lista non era tenuto segreto, ma in una città piccola, in cui le
persone che contavano si conoscevano tutte, era di pubblico dominio; dunque le
adesioni dimostravano che, malgrado le sue vicissitudini, Casanova non era
affatto un emarginato. Anche qui è opportuna una riflessione sull'ambivalenza
del personaggio e sul suo eterno oscillare tra la classe reietta e quella
privilegiata. In questo stesso periodo iniziò una relazione con Francesca
Buschini, una ragazza molto semplice e incolta che per anni avrebbe scritto a
Casanova, dopo il suo secondo esilio da Venezia, delle lettere (ritrovate a
Dux) di un'ingenuità e tenerezza commoventi,[52] utilizzando un lessico molto
influenzato dal dialetto veneziano, con evidenti tentativi di italianizzare il
più possibile il testo. Questa fu l'ultima relazione importante di Casanova,
che rimase molto attaccato alla donna: anche quando ne fu irrimediabilmente
lontano, rattristato profondamente dal crepuscolo della sua vita, teneva una
fitta corrispondenza con Francesca, oltre a continuare a pagare, per anni,
l'affitto della casa in Barbaria delle Tole in cui avevano convissuto,
inviandole, quando ne aveva la possibilità, lettere di cambio con discrete
somme di denaro. Il nome della calle deriva dalla presenza, in tempi
antichi, di falegnamerie che riducevano in tavole (tole, in dialetto veneziano)
i tronchi d'albero. La calle si trova nelle immediate vicinanze del Campo SS.
Giovanni e Paolo. L'ultima abitazione veneziana di Giacomo Casanova è sita in
Barbarìa delle Tole, al civico 6673 del sestiere di Castello. L'identificazione
certa è stata ricavata da una lettera a Casanova di Francesca Buschini,
ritrovata a Dux (odierna Duchcov, Repubblica Ceca), datata 13 dicembre
1783.L'appartamento occupato da Casanova e dalla Buschini (di proprietà della
nobile famiglia Pesaro di S. Stae), affittato a 96 lire venete a trimestre,
corrisponde alle tre finestre del terzo piano situate sotto la soffitta che si
vede in alto a sinistra (vedi foto). La lettera in questione, spedita dalla
Buschini a Casanova ormai in esilio, faceva riferimento alla casa antistante
"È morto la molgie del maestro di spada che mi stà in fasa di me quela
casa in mezzo al brusà, giovine e anche bela la era..." (testo originale
tratto dall'edizione critica delle lettere di F. Buschini Marco Leeflang,
Utrecht, Marie-Françose Luna, Grenoble, Antonio Trampus, Trieste, Lettres de Francesca
Buschini à G. Casanova, 1996, cit. in bibl.) Poiché tutti i caseggiati
antistanti erano andati distrutti a causa di due successivi incendi, avvenuti
nel 1683 e nel 1686, l'area era rimasta praticamente priva di fabbricati e
destinata a giardino. L'unico fabbricato ancora esistente era quello dinanzi al
6673[53]. In seguito la situazione non ha subito modifiche di rilievo;
l'edificio in questione, antistante al 6673, si trova tra il ramo primo e il
ramo secondo "Del brusà" e quindi l'identificazione appare fondata e
verificabile[54]. Negli anni successivi pubblicò altre opere e cercò di
arrabattarsi come meglio poté. Ma il suo carattere impetuoso gli giocò un
brutto scherzo: offeso platealmente in casa Grimani da un certo Carletti, col
quale aveva questionato per motivi di denaro, si risentì perché il padrone di
casa aveva preso le parti del Carletti. Decise a questo punto di vendicarsi
componendo un libello, Né amori né donne, ovvero la stalla ripulita in cui, pur
sotto un labile travestimento mitologico, facilmente svelabile, sostenne
chiaramente di essere lui stesso il vero figlio di Michele Grimani, mentre Zuan
Carlo Grimani sarebbe stato "notoriamente" frutto del tradimento
della madre (Pisana Giustinian Lolin) con un altro nobile veneziano, Sebastiano
Giustinian.[55] Probabilmente era tutto vero, anche perché in una città
in cui le distanze tra le case si misuravano a spanne, si circolava in gondola
e c'erano stuoli di servitori che ovviamente spettegolavano a più non posso,
era impensabile poter tenere segreto alcunché. Comunque, anche in questo caso
l'aristocrazia fece quadrato e Casanova fu costretto all'ultimo, definitivo,
esilio. Tuttavia la questione non passò inosservata, se si ritenne opportuno
far circolare un libello anonimo, con cui si replicava allo scritto
casanoviano, intitolato "Contrapposto o sia il riffiutto mentito, e
vendicato al libercolo intitolato Ne amori ne donne ovvero La stalla ripulita,
di Giacomo Casanova".[56] Ritratto del 1788 Annotazione
della morte di Casanova nei registri di Dux Lasciò Venezia nel gennaio 1783 e
si diresse verso Vienna. Per un po' fece da segretario all'ambasciatore
veneziano Sebastiano Foscarini; poi, alla morte di questi,[57] accettò un posto
di bibliotecario nel castello del conte di Waldstein a Dux, in Boemia. Lì
trascorse gli ultimi tristissimi anni della sua vita, sbeffeggiato dalla
servitù,[58] ormai incompreso, e considerato il relitto di un'epoca tramontata
per sempre. Da Dux, Casanova dovette assistere alla Rivoluzione francese,
alla caduta della Repubblica di Venezia, al crollare del suo mondo, o perlomeno
di quel mondo a cui aveva sognato di appartenere stabilmente. L'ultimo
conforto, oltre alle lettere numerosissime degli amici veneziani che lo
tenevano al corrente di quanto accadeva nella sua città, fu la composizione
della Histoire de ma vie, l'opera autobiografica che assorbì tutte le sue
residue energie, compiuta con furore instancabile quasi per non farsi precedere
da una morte che ormai sentiva vicina. Scrivendola, Casanova riviveva una vita
assolutamente irripetibile, tanto da entrare nel mito, nell'immaginario
collettivo, una vita «opera d'arte». Morì il 4 giugno del 1798, si suppone che
la salma fosse stata sepolta nella chiesetta di Santa Barbara, nei pressi del
castello. Ma riguardo al problema dell'identificazione corretta del luogo di
sepoltura di Giacomo Casanova, le notizie sono comunque piuttosto vaghe, e non
ci sono, allo stato, che ipotesi non correttamente documentate.
Tradizionalmente si riteneva che fosse stato sepolto nel cimitero della
chiesetta attigua al castello Waldstein, ma era una pura ipotesi. Altre
opere: “Zoroastro, tragedia tradotta dal Francese, da rappresentarsi nel Regio
Elettoral Teatro di Dresda, dalla compagnia de' comici italiani in attuale
servizio di Sua Maestà nel carnevale dell'anno MDCCLII. Dresda); La
Moluccheide, o sia i gemelli rivali. Dresda 1769Confutazione della Storia del
Governo Veneto d'Amelot de la Houssaie, Amsterdam (Lugano). 1772Lana caprina.
Epistola di un licantropo. Bologna. 1774Istoria delle turbolenze della Polonia.
Gorizia. 1775Dell'Iliade di Omero tradotta in ottava rima. Venezia); Scrutinio
del libro "Eloges de M. de Voltaire par différents auteurs". Venezia.
Il duello; Opuscoli miscellaneiIl duelloLettere della nobil donna Silvia
Belegno alla nobildonzella Laura Gussoni. Venezia. 1781Le messager de Thalie.
Venezia); Di aneddoti viniziani militari ed amorosi del secolo decimoquarto
sotto i dogadi di Giovanni Gradenigo e di Giovanni Dolfin. Venezia. 1782Né
amori né donne ovvero la stalla ripulita. Venezia. 1784Lettre
historico-critique sur un fait connu, dependant d'une cause peu connu...
Amburgo (Dessau). Expositionne raisonée du différent, qui subsiste entre le
deux Républiques de Venise, et d'Hollande. Vienna. 1785Supplément à l'Exposition
raisonnée. Vienna); Esposizione ragionata della contestazione, che susiste trà
le due Repubbliche di Venezia, e di Olanda. Venezia. 1785Supplemento alla
Esposizione ragionata.... Venezia); Lettre a monsieur Jean et Etienne Luzac....
Vienna); Lettera ai signori Giovanni e Stefano Luzac.... Venezia); Soliloque
d'un penseur, Prague chez Jean Ferdinande noble de Shonfeld imprimeur et
libraire. 1787 -Histoire de ma fuite des prisons de la République de Venise
qu'on appelle les Plombs. Ecrite à Dux en Bohème l'année 1787, Leipzig chez le
noble de Shonfeld 1788. Historia della mia fuga dalle prigioni della republica
di Venezia dette "li Piombi", prima edizione italiana Salvatore di
Giacomo (prefazione e traduzione). Alfieri&Lacroix editori, Milano 1911.
1788Icosameron ou histoire d'Edouard, et d'Elisabeth qui passèrent quatre
vingts ans chez les Mégramicres habitante aborigènes du Protocosme dans
l'interieur de notre globe, traduite de l'anglois par Jacques Casanova de
Seingalt Vénitien Docteur èn lois Bibliothécaire de Monsieur le Comte de
Waldstein seigneur de Dux Chambellan de S.M.I.R.A., Prague à l'imprimerie de
l'école normale. Praga. (romanzo di fantascienza) 1790Solution du probleme
deliaque démontrée par Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, Bibliothécaire de Monsieur
le Comte de Waldstein, segneur de Dux en Boheme e c., Dresde, De l'imprimerie
de C.C. Meinhold. 1790Corollaire a la duplication de l'Hexaedre donée a Dux en
Boheme, par Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, Dresda. 1790Demonstration geometrique
de la duplicaton du cube. Corollaire second, Dresda. 1792 Lettres écrites au
sieur Faulkircher par son meilleur ami, Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, le 10
Janvier 1792. 1797A Leonard Snetlage, Docteur en droit de l'Université de
Gottingue, Jacques Casanova, docteur en droit de l'Universitè de Padoue.
Dresda. Edizioni postume: Le Polemoscope, Gustave Kahn, Paris, La Vogue.
1960-1962Histoire de ma vie, F.A. Brockhaus, Wiesbaden e Plon, Parigi. Edizioni
italiane basate sul manoscritto originale: Piero Chiara, traduzione Giancarlo
BuzziGiacomo Casanova, Storia della mia vita, ed. Mondadori 1965. 7 voll. di
cui uno di note, documenti e apparato critico. Piero Chiara e Federico
Roncoroni Giacomo Casanova, Storia della mia vita, Milano, Mondadori "I
meridiani" 1983. 3 voll. Ultima edizione: Milano, Mondadori "I
meridiani", 2001. 1968Saggi libelli e satire di Giacomo Casanova, Piero
Chiara, Milano. Longanesi & C. 1969Epistolario (17591798) di Giacomo
Casanova, Piero Chiara, Milano. Longanesi & C. Rapporti di Giacomo Casanova
con i paesi del Nord. A proposito dell'inedito "Prosopopea Ecaterina II
(1773-74)", Enrico Straub. Venezia. Centro tedesco di studi veneziani.
1985Examen des "Etudes de la Nature" et de "Paul et
Virginie" de Bernardin de Saint Pierre, Marco Leeflang e Tom Vitelli.
Utrecht, Edizione italiana: Analisi degli Studi della natura e di Paolo e
Virginia di Bernardin de Saint-Pierre, Gianluca Simeoni, Bologna, Pendragon, Pensieri
libertini, Federico di Trocchio (sulle opere filosofiche inedite rinvenute a
Dux), Milano, Rusconi. 1993Philocalies sur les sottises des mortels, Tom
Vitelli. Salt Lake City. 1993Jacques Casanova de SeingaltHistoire de ma vie.
Texte intégral du manuscrit original, suivi de textes inédits. Édition
présentée et établie par Francis Lacassin.
2-221-06520-4. Éditions Robert Laffont. 1997Iliade di Omero in veneziano
Tradotta in ottava rima. Canto primo. Riproduzione integrale del manoscritto a
fronte, Venezia, Editoria Universitaria. 1998Iliade di Omero in veneziano
Tradotta in ottava rima. Canto secondo. Riproduzione integrale del manoscritto
a fronte. Venezia, Editoria Universitaria. 1999Storia della mia vita,
traduzione Pietro Bartalini Bigi e Maurizio Grasso. Roma, Newton Compton, coll.
« I Mammut », Dell'Iliade d'Omero tradotta in veneziano da Giacomo Casanova.
Canti otto. Mariano del Friuli, Edizioni della Laguna. 2005Iliade di Omero in
veneziano. Tradotta in ottava rima. Riproduzione integrale del manoscritto a
fronte. Venezia, Editoria Universitaria,
Dialoghi sul suicidio. Roma, Aracne,
88-548-0312-X 2006Iliade di Omero in idioma toscano'. Riproduzione
integrale dell'edizione Modesto Fenzo. Venezia, Editoria Universitaria.
Histoire de ma vie, tome I. Édition publiée sous la direction de Gérard
Lahouati et Marie-Françoise Luna avec la collaboration de Furio Luccichenti et
Helmut Watzlawick. Collection Bibliothèque de la Pléiade, Gallimard.
Parigi. Histoire de ma vie, tome I.
Édition établie par Jean-Christophe Igalens et Érik Leborgne, Laffont,
Bouquins. Parigi. Histoire de ma vie,
tome II. Édition établie par Jean-Christophe Igalens et Érik Leborgne, Laffont,
Bouquins. Parigi. Histoire de ma vie,
tome II. Édition publiée sous la direction de Gérard Lahouati et
Marie-Françoise Luna avec la collaboration de Furio Luccichenti et Helmut
Watzlawick. Collection Bibliothèque de la Pléiade (nº 137), Gallimard.
Parigi. Histoire de ma vie, tome III.
Édition publiée sous la direction de Gérard Lahouati et Marie-Françoise Luna
avec la collaboration de Furio Luccichenti et Helmut Watzlawick. Collection
Bibliothèque de la Pléiade (nº 147).Gallimard. Parigi. Histoire de ma vie, tome III. Édition établie
par Jean-Christophe Igalens et Érik Leborgne, Laffont, Bouquins. Parigi. Icosameron, traduzione di Serafino Balduzzi,
Milano, Luni Editrice,,
978-88-7984-611-0 Istoria delle turbolenze della Polonia, Milano, Luni
Editrice, Valore letterario e fortuna dell'opera casanoviana Presunto
ritratto di Giacomo Casanova, attribuito ad Alessandro Longhi o, da
alcuni[62][63], a Pietro Longhi. Sul valore letterario e la validità storica
dell'opera di Giacomo Casanova si è discusso parecchio.[67] Intanto bisogna
distinguere tra l'opera autobiografica e il resto della produzione. Malgrado
gli sforzi fatti per accreditarsi come letterato, storico, filosofo e
addirittura matematico, Casanova non ebbe in vita, e tantomeno da morto,
nessuna notorietà e nessun successo.[68] Successo che arrise invece all'opera
autobiografica, anche se si manifestò in tempi molto posteriori alla morte
dell'autore. Disegno di un busto di Giacomo Casanova, ubicato
in origine a Dux, oggi al Museo delle Arti Decorative di Vienna La sua
produzione fu spesso d'occasione, cioè di frequente i suoi scritti furono
creati per ottenere qualche beneficio. Principale esempio è la Confutazione
della Storia del Governo Veneto d'Amelot de la Houssaye, scritta in gran parte
durante la detenzione a Barcellona nel 1768, che avrebbe dovuto servire, e
infatti così fu, a ingraziarsi il governo veneziano e a ottenere la tanto
sospirata grazia. Lo stesso si può dire per opere scritte nella speranza di
ottenere qualche incarico da Caterina II di Russia o da Federico II di Prussia.
Altre opere, come l'Icosameron, avrebbero dovuto sancire il successo letterario
dell'autore ma così non fu. Il primo vero successo editoriale fu ottenuto
dall'Historia della mia fuga dai Piombi che ebbe una diffusione immediata e
varie edizioni, sia in italiano sia in francese ma il caso è praticamente unico
e di proporzioni limitate a causa delle dimensioni dell'opera costituita dal
racconto dell'evasione. Sembra quasi che Casanova tollerasse le sue creature
autobiografiche e il loro successo, continuando a inseguire, con opere non
autobiografiche, un successo letterario che non arrivò mai. Questo aspetto fu
acutamente osservato da un memorialista suo contemporaneo, il principe Charles
Joseph de Ligne, il quale scrisse[70] che il fascino di Casanova stava tutto
nei suoi racconti autobiografici, sia verbali sia trascritti, cioè sia la
narrazione salottiera sia la versione stampata delle sue avventure. Tanto era
brillante e trascinante quando parlava della sua vita[71]- osserva de
Lignequanto terribilmente noioso, prolisso, banale quando parlava o scriveva su
altre materie. Ma sembra che questo, Casanova, non abbia mai voluto accettarlo.
E soffriva tremendamente di non avere quel riconoscimento letterario o meglio
scientifico a cui ambiva. Da ciò si può comprendere l'astio nei confronti
di Voltaire, che nascondeva una profonda invidia e una sconfinata ammirazione.
Quindi anche contro la volontà dell'autore, quasi invidioso dei suoi figli più
fortunati ma meno prediletti, le opere autobiografiche avrebbero potuto essere
un grande successo editoriale quando egli era ancora in vita. Ma ciò avvenne in
misura molto ridotta per vari motivi: principalmente perché questo filone fu
iniziato tardi. Si pensi ad esempio che la narrazione della fuga dai Piombi,
che costituì per decenni il cavallo di battaglia del Casanova salottiero, fu
pubblicata soltanto nel 1787. Inoltre l'opera "vera", cioè
quella in cui aveva trasfuso tutto sé stesso, l'Histoire, fu scritta proprio
negli ultimi anni di vita e il motivo è semplice: infatti lui stesso affermò,
in una lettera indirizzata a quel Zuan Carlo Grimani, da lui offeso molti anni
prima e che era stato la causa del secondo esilio: "... ora che la mia età
mi fa credere di aver finito di farla, ho scritto la Storia della mia
vita...". Cioè sembra che per mettere su carta tutto in forma definitiva,
l'autore dovesse prima ammettere con sé stesso che la storia era terminata e di
futuro davanti da vivere non ce n'era più. Ammissione questa sempre dolorosa
per chiunque, in particolare per un uomo che aveva creato una vita-capolavoro
irripetibile. Ma un altro aspetto, questo strutturale, ha ritardato la
fortuna dell'opera autobiografica: l'Histoire era all'epoca assolutamente
impubblicabile. Non è un caso che la prima edizione francese del manoscritto,
acquistato[73] dall'editore Friedrich Arnold Brockhaus di Lipsia nel 1821, fu
pubblicata, dal 1826 al 1838, però in una versione notevolmente rimaneggiata da
Jean Laforgue, il quale non si limitò a "purgare" l'opera,
sopprimendo passi ritenuti troppo audaci, ma intervenne a tappeto modificando
anche l'ideologia dell'autore, facendone una sorta di giacobino avverso alle
oligarchie dominanti. Ciò non corrispondeva affatto alla verità storica, perché
di Casanova si può dire che era ribelle e trasgressivo, ma politicamente era un
fautore dell'ancien régime, come dimostrano chiaramente il suo epistolario,
opere specifiche e la stessa Histoire. In un passo delle Memorie, Casanova
esprime chiaramente il suo punto di vista sull'argomento della Rivoluzione: «Ma
si vedrà che razza di dispotismo è quello di un popolo sfrenato, feroce,
indomabile, che si raduna, impicca, taglia teste e assassina coloro che non
appartenendo al popolo osano mostrare come la pensano.[75]» Per
l'edizione definitiva delle memorie si dovette attendere fino a quando la casa
Brockhaus decise di pubblicare, insieme all'editore Plon di Parigi, dal 1960 al
1962, il testo originale in sei volumi curato da Angelika Hübscher. Ciò fu
dovuto all'impianto generale dell'opera che era, a detta dell'autore e di
smaliziati contemporanei come de Ligne, di un cinismo assolutamente
impresentabile.[77] Quello che essi chiamarono cinismo sarà considerato, due
secoli dopo, modernità e realismo. Casanova è già uno scrittore di
costume "moderno". Non teme di rivelare situazioni, inclinazioni,
attività, trame e soprattutto confessioni che erano all'epoca, e tali rimasero
ancora più di un secolo, assolutamente irriferibili. Naturalmente il primo
problema, ma questo limitato a pochi anni dopo la morte dell'autore, fu quello
di aver citato personaggi di primissimo piano, con circostanze molto precise
del loro agire. Le memorie sono affollate all'inverosimile dagli attori
principali della storia europea del Settecento, sia politica sia culturale.
Probabilmente si farebbe prima a dire di chi Casanova non ha scritto, e chi non
ha incontrato, tanto vasto è stato il panorama delle sue
frequentazioni.[78] Ma questo, come si è detto, è marginale. L'altro
problema, questo insuperabile, fu la sostanziale "immoralità"
dell'opera casanoviana. Ma ciò deve intendersi come contrarietà alle abitudini,
ai tic, alle ipocrisie della fine del Settecento e, ancor di più, del
successivo secolo, ancora più fobico e per certi versi molto meno aperto di
quello che l'aveva preceduto. Casanova ha precorso i tempi: era troppo avanti
per diventare un autore di successo. E forse se ne rendeva perfettamente conto.
Nella lettera a Zuan Carlo Grimani, ricordata in precedenza, Casanova, parlando
dell'Histoire, scrive testualmente:... questa Storia, che verrà diffusa fino a
sei volumi in ottavo e che sarà forse tradotta in tutte le lingue... E poi,
richiede una risposta... perché io possa porla nei codicilli che formeranno il
settimo volume postumo della Storia della mia vita. Tutto questo è avvenuto
puntualmente.[79] Riguardo all'uso della lingua francese, Casanova vi
fece riferimento nella prefazione:
«J'ai écrit en français, et non pas en italien parce que la langue
française est plus répandue que la mienne.[80]» «Ho scritto in francese e
non in italiano perché la lingua francese è più diffusa della mia.» Certo
dell'immortalità della sua opera, se non al fine di garantirsela, Casanova
preferì utilizzare la lingua che gli avrebbe consentito di raggiungere il
maggior numero possibile di potenziali lettori. Molte opere minori, del resto,
le scrisse in italiano, forse perché sapeva bene che esse non sarebbero
divenute mai un monumento, come avvenne invece per la sua autobiografia. Carlo
Goldoni, altro celebre veneziano, coevo al Casanova, scelse allo stesso modo di
scrivere la propria autobiografia in francese. L'autobiografia del
Casanova, a parte il valore letterario, è un importante documento per la storia
del costume, forse una delle opere letterarie più importanti per conoscere la
vita quotidiana in Europa nel Settecento. Si tratta di una rappresentazione
che, per le frequentazioni dell'autore e per la limitazione dei possibili lettori,
riferisce principalmente delle classi dominanti dell'epoca, nobiltà e
borghesia, ma questo non ne limita l'interesse in quanto anche i personaggi di
contorno, di qualsiasi estrazione, sono rappresentati in modo vivissimo.
Leggere quest'opera è uno strumento importante per conoscere il quotidiano
degli uomini e delle donne di allora, per comprendere dal di dentro la vita di
ogni giorno. La fortuna dell'opera casanoviana, presso i protagonisti di
vertice della scena letteraria mondiale, è stata ristretta solo all'opera
autobiografica ed è stata vastissima. Iniziando da Stendhal, al quale fu
attribuita la paternità dell'Histoire, a Foscolo il quale mise addirittura in
dubbio l'esistenza storica del Casanova, Balzac, Hofmannstahl, Schnitzler,
Hesse, Márai. Molti furono solo lettori e quindi influenzati in modo inconscio,
altri scrissero opere ambientate nell'epoca di Casanova e di cui egli era
protagonista. Innumerevoli sono i riferimenti, nella letteratura moderna,
a questa figura che ha finito per diventare un'antonomasia. In Italia
l'interesse si è manifestato tra la fine dell'Ottocento e i primi del
Novecento. La prima edizione italiana della Historia della mia fuga dai Piombi
fu curata nel 1911 da Salvatore di Giacomo, il quale studiò anche i ripetuti
soggiorni napoletani dell'avventuriero e su questo argomento scrisse un
saggio.Seguirono Benedetto Croce[ e via via molti altri fino a Piero Chiara. Un
capitolo a parte andrebbe dedicato ai "casanovisti" cioè a tutti
quelli che si sono occupati e si occupano, più o meno professionalmente, della
vita e dell'opera del Casanova. Proprio a questa legione di sconosciuti si
debbono infinite identificazioni di personaggi, revisioni e importantissimi
ritrovamenti di documenti. Molto dell'opera casanoviana è ancora inedito,
Nell'Archivio di Stato di Praga rimangono circa 10 000 documenti che attendono
di essere studiati e pubblicati, oltre un numero imprecisato di lettere che
probabilmente giacciono in chissà quanti archivi di famiglia sparsi per
l'Europa. La grafomania dell'avventuriero fu veramente impressionante: la sua
vita a un certo momento divenne totalmente e ossessivamente dedicata alla
scrittura[91] Riguardo al mito del seduttore, Casanova, insieme a Don
Giovanni, ne è stato l'incarnazione. Il paragone è d'obbligo ed è stato tema di
numerose opere critiche. Le due figure finirono addirittura per fondersi,
benché ritenute antitetiche dai maggiori commentatori: a parte il fatto che il
veneziano era un personaggio reale e l'altro romanzesco, i due caratteri sono
agli antipodi. Il primo amava le sue conquiste, si prodigava con generosità per
renderle felici e cercava sempre di uscire di scena con un certo stile, lasciando
dietro di sé una scia di nostalgia; l'altro invece rappresenta il collezionista
puro, più mortifero che vitale, assolutamente indifferente all'immagine di sé e
soprattutto agli effetti del suo agire, concentrato unicamente sul numero delle
vittime della sua seduzione. L'interpretazione del suo mito sarebbe
fornita proprio dal libretto del Don Giovanni di Mozart, scritto da Lorenzo Da
Ponte, in cui Leporello, il servo di Don Giovanni, in un'aria notissima recita:
Madamina il catalogo è questo, delle belle che amò il padron mio... e prosegue
snocciolando le innumerevoli conquiste, diligentemente registrate. Il fatto che
alla redazione del libretto sembra abbia partecipato anche Casanovacome è stato
sostenuto basandosi su documenti trovati a Dux, sul fatto che Da Ponte e
Casanova si frequentassero e che l'avventuriero fosse sicuramente presente la
sera in cui a Praga andò in scena la prima dell'opera mozartiana (29 ottobre
1787)è tutto sommato marginale.[senza fonte] La partecipazione, comunque molto
limitata, di Casanova alla composizione del libretto di Da Ponte per l'opera
mozartiana Don Giovanni, è ritenuta molto probabile da vari commentatori.
L'elemento fondamentale è un autografo, rinvenuto a Dux, che contiene una
variante del testo che si è ipotizzato facesse parte di una serie di interventi
operati in accordo con Da Ponte e forse anche con lo stesso Mozart.[94] Quel
che è certo è che Casanova si misurò col mito di don Giovanni e ne costruì uno
ancora più grande, certamente più positivo e soprattutto reale. Mostre
1998 Praga, Palazzo Lobkowicz, "Casanova v Čechách" (Casanova in Boemia).
Catalogo: Casanova v Čechách, Praga, Gema Art 1998. 1998 Venezia, Ca' Rezzonico
"Il mondo di Giacomo Casanova". Catalogo: Il mondo di Giacomo
Casanova, un veneziano in Europa 1725-1798, Venezia, Marsilio, 1998. 88-317-7028-4
Francia "Casanova for ever, 33 expositions
Languedoc-Roussillon". Catalogo: Casanova For Ever, Emmanuel Latreille
(dir.), Parigi, Editions Dilecta, Parigi, Bibliothèque nationale de France
“Casanova, la passion de la liberté” (dal 15 novembre al 19 febbraio ). Catalogo: Casanova, la
passion de la liberté, Parigi, Coédition Bibliothèque nationale de France /
Seuil,. 978-2-7177-2496-7 (BnF) 978-2-02-104412-6 (Seuil) Stati Uniti d'America "Casanova: The
seduction of Europe", varie sedi: Museum of Fine Arts, Boston; Kimbell Art
Museum, Forth Worth; Fine Arts Museums, San Francisco. Catalogo: Casanova The
seduction of Europe MFA Pubblications Museum of fine arts, Boston. 978-0-87846-842-3. Filmografia su Casanova
Casanova (1918). Regia di Alfréd Deésy Il cuore del Casanova (Germania) Regia
di Erik Lund. Soggetto di Enrik Rennspies. Sceneggiatura di Bruno Kastner. Con
Bruno Kasner, Ria Jende, Rose Lichtenstein, Karl Platen. Casanovas erste und
letzte Liebe (Austria, 1920). Regia di Julius Szoreghi. Casanova (1927). Regia
di Alexandre Volkoff Les amours de Casanova (Francia, 1934). Regia di René
Barberis L'avventura di Giacomo Casanova (Italia, 1938). Regia di Carlo
Bassoli. Le avventure di Casanova (Les Aventures de Casanova) (Francia, 1947).
Regia di Jean Boyer. Il cavaliere misterioso (Italia, 1948). Regia di Riccardo
Freda. Con Vittorio Gassman, Gianna Maria Canale, María Mercader, Antonio
Centa. Le avventure di Giacomo Casanova (Italia). Regia di Steno. Con Gabriele
Ferzetti, Corinne Calvet, Marina Vlady, Nadia Gray, Carlo Campanini. Last Rose
from Casanova, titolo originale Poslední růže od Kasanovy, (Cecoslovacchia,
1966). Regia di Vaclav Krska. Infanzia, vocazione e prime esperienze di Giacomo
Casanova, veneziano (Italia). Regia di Luigi Comencini. Con Leonard Withing,
Maria Grazia Buccella, Tina Aumont, Ennio Balbo, Senta Berger, W.
Branbell, Clara Colosimo, C. ComenciniDe Clara, Silvia Dionisio, Evi
Maltagliati, Raoul Grassilli, Mario Scaccia, Lionel Stander. Cagliostro
(Italia, 1975). Regia di Daniele Pettinari. Con Bekim Fehmiu, Curd Jürgens,
Rosanna Schiaffino, Robert Alda, Massimo Girotti. (Casanova è uno dei
personaggi). Il Casanova di Federico Fellini (Italia, 1976). Regia di Federico
Fellini Con Donald Sutherland, Tina Aumont, Olimpia Carlisi, M. Clementi,
Carmen Scarpitta, C. Browne, D. M. Berenstein. Il mondo nuovo (Italia, 1982).
Regia di Ettore Scola. Con Jean Louis Barrault, Marcello Mastroianni, Hanna
Schygulla, Harvey Keitel, Jean-Claude Brialy, Andréa Ferréol, M. Vitold, A.
Belle, E. Bergier, Laura Betti. David di Donatello 1983 per la migliore
sceneggiatura, scenografia e costumi. Il ritorno di Casanova, titolo originale
Le retour de Casanova (Francia, 1992). Regia di Édouard Niermans Con Alain
Delon, Fabrice Luchini, E Lunghini. Goodbye Casanova (Stati Uniti, 2000). Regia
di Mauro Borrelli. Con G. Scandiuzzi, Y. BleethGidley, C. FilpiGanus, E.
Bradley. Il giovane Casanova (Francia, Italia, Germania, 2002). Regia di
Giacomo Battiato. Con Stefano Accorsi, Thierry Lhermitte, Cristiana Capotondi,
Silvana De Santis, Catherine Flemming, Katja Flint. Casanova (Stati Uniti,
2005). Regia di Lasse Hallström. Con Heath Ledger, Jeremy Irons, Lena Olin,
Sienna Miller, Adelmo Togliani. Historia de la meva mort (Spagna/Francia ).
Regia di Albert Serra. Con Vicenç Altaió, Lluís Serrat, Eliseu Huertas.
Casanova variations (Austria/Germania/Francia/Portogallo ). Regia di Michael
Sturminger, con John Malkovich, Fanny Ardant, Veronica Ferres. Zoroastro, Io
Casanova (Italia ) Regia di Gianni di Capua, con Galatea Ranzi Dernier Amour
(Francia ). Regia di Benoît Jacquot, con Vincent Lindon (Giacomo Casanova),
Stacy Martin (Marianne de Charpillon), Valeria Golino, (La Cornelys). Film solo
lontanamente ispirati alla figura di Casanova Casanova farebbe così! (Italia
1942). Regia di Carlo Ludovico Bragaglia. Le tre donne di Casanova (Stati Uniti
1944). Regia di Sam Wood. Casanova '70 (Italia 1965). Regia di Mario Monicelli.
Film comici La grande notte di Casanova (Stati Uniti 1954) Norman Z. McLeod.
Casanova & Company (Austria/Italia/Francia/Rft 1976). Regia di Franz Antel.
Tony Curtis, Marisa Berenson, Sylva Koscina, Britt Ekland, Umberto Orsini,
Marisa Mell, Hugh Griffith. Telefilm su Casanova Casanova (Regno Unito, 2005).
Regia di Sheree Folkson. Con David Tennant, Rose Byrne, Peter O'Toole, Laura
Fraser, Nina Sosanya, Shaun Parkes. Onorificenze Cavaliere dello Speron d'oronastrino
per uniforme ordinariaCavaliere dello Speron d'oro — Roma, 1760 Riguardo
l’onorificenza, Casanova nelle Memorie descrive l'incontro con il pontefice e
il successivo conferimento dell'Ordine (cfr. G. Casanova, Storia della mia
vita, Milano, Mondadori 2001, II pag.
925 cit. in bibl.). Si è dubitato anche in questo caso, come in altri, che il
racconto autobiografico risponda a verità. Per chiarire i dubbi sono state
compiute approfondite ricerche nell'Archivio segreto vaticano al fine di
ritrovare il breve papale di conferimento, sia nel periodo di cui parla
Casanova (dicembre 1760-gennaio 1761) sia in periodi precedenti e successivi,
senza alcun esito. Il che non significa che l’onorificenza non sia stata
effettivamente conferita, in quanto potrebbe essersi verificato un errore
burocratico, di trascrizione o altro. Sta di fatto però che intorno allo stesso
periodo furono conferite onorificenze ad altri personaggi come Piranesi, Mozart,
Cavaceppi e il breve relativo è stato ritrovato. Quindi manca, allo stato, un
riscontro oggettivo. Si aggiunga che il cavalierato dello Speron d’Oro era
all’epoca già piuttosto inflazionato, al punto da sconsigliare l’esibizione in
pubblico della decorazione. Lo stesso Casanova in un passo dell’opera
autobiografica Il duello scrive, riferendosi all’onorificenza, "il troppo
strapazzato ordine della cavalleria romana" (cfr. Il duello cit. in
bibl.).[95] Note Esplicative
Casanova visse a lungo in Francia e conobbe personalmente molti
protagonisti del movimento illuminista tra cui Voltaire e Rousseau. Inoltre, in
patria, frequentò membri dell'oligarchia aristocratica dominante appartenenti
all'ala progressista, come Andrea Memmo. In più aveva anche aderito alla
Massoneria, il che lo pose a contatto con tutta una serie di personaggi
portatori di idee progressiste. Malgrado tutto questo egli fu, e si definì
sempre, un conservatore, legato a doppio filo con la classe nobiliare cui, pur
non appartenendovi formalmente, riteneva d'esservi membro in pectore,
reputandosi a torto od a ragione il figlio naturale di Michele Grimani. Allo
scoppio della Rivoluzione francese e nel periodo alquanto turbolento che ne
seguì, scrisse numerosissime lettere (cfr. Epistolario P.Chiara cit. in ) in
cui deprecava in modo reciso l'accaduto e soprattutto non riconobbe mai, negli
eventi, la paternità culturale del movimento illuminista. Ad esso aveva
assistito come semplice spettatore, non avendone percepito mai la dirompente
potenzialità e non condividendone nessuna delle istanze che, ad esempio,
Montesquieu espresse nei confronti dell'iniquo sistema già dal 1721 (cfr.
Montesquieu, Lettres Persanes) e riteneva che, pur con qualche modifica, il
governo della classe nobiliare fosse il migliore possibile. Un esame attento ed
approfondito della posizione politica del Casanova è stato compiuto da
Feliciano Benvenuti (Casanova politico, atti del convegno: Giacomo Casanova tra
Venezia e l'Europa, 16.11.1998, Gilberto Pizzamiglio, fondazione Giorgio Cini,
Venezia, ed. Leo S. Olschki, 2001, pag. 1 e seg.) Il cognome Casanova è attestato appartenere a
nobile famiglia vissuta a Cesena, Milano, Parma, Torino-Dronero Casanova afferma che dalla città
spagnola il suo antenato, padre Jacob Casanova, a seguito del rapimento di una
monaca, Donna Anna Palafox, sarebbe fuggito, nel 1429, a Roma in cerca di un
rifugio dove, dopo aver scontato un anno di carcere, avrebbe ricevuto il
perdono e la dispensa dei voti sacerdotali da parte del pontefice in persona, potendo
così unirsi in matrimonio con la rapita. A questo riguardo è interessante la
tesi di Jean-Cristophe Igalens (G. Casanova, Histoire de ma vie, tome I.
Édition établie par Jean-Christophe Igalens et Érik Leborgne, Laffont, pag. XL,
op. cit. in Opere postume) il quale sostiene che la genealogia inserita dal
Casanova all'inizio delle Memorie sia del tutto fantasiosa. Si tratterebbe di
una sorta di parodia di ciò che facevano regolarmente i memorialisti
aristocratici dell'epoca i quali, all'inizio dell'opera, enunciavano il loro
antico lignaggio, quasi a ricercare una legittimazione per il fatto di esporre,
in un'opera letteraria, le vicende di cui erano stati protagonisti, almeno
quelle pubbliche, poiché le private rientravano nell'ambito dell'autobiografia.
La tesi appare fondata se si considera che la ricostruzione genealogica
proposta dal C. risale addirittura al 1428, cioè a tre secoli dalla sua nascita
ed è relativa a un cognome, praticamente un toponimo, estremamente comune. A conferma del fatto che la nascita
illegittima di Casanova fosse oggetto di chiacchiere, va citato un passaggio de
La commediante in fortuna di Pietro Chiari (Venezia 1755) in cui si tratteggia
un ritratto precisissimo di Casanova che chiunque era in grado di riconoscere
sotto le spoglie di un nome di fantasia, il Signor Vanesio "C'era tra gli
altri un certo Signor Vanesio dì sconosciuta e, per quanto dicevasi, non
legittima estrazione, ben fatto della persona, di colore olivastro, di
affettate maniere e di franchezza indicibile". Evidentemente il
riferimento a tratti somatici tipici e riconoscibili fa pensare che le dicerie
fossero suffragate da una notevole somiglianza fisica con Michele Grimani.
L'identificazione del Signor Vanesio con Casanova è pacifica, tra i tanti autori,
concordi sul punto, si veda: E.Vittoria Casanova e gli Inquisitori di Stato
cit. in bibl. pag. 25. (Immatricolazione
29 novembre 1737 col numero 122, iscrizione al secondo anno 26 novembre 1738,
fede di terzeria del 20 gennaio, 22 marzo e I maggio 1739. Fonte: Bruno
Brunelli, Casanova studente, in “Il Marzocco” 15 aprile 1923, pag 1-2) Il 2 aprile 1742 firmò un testamento in
qualità di testimone. Sull'ubicazione
esatta della casa natale di Casanova e di quella in cui trascorse l'infanzia
dal 1728 al 1743, anno della morte della nonna materna Marzia, si è discusso
moltissimo. Certo è che al momento del matrimonio Gaetano e Zanetta Casanova
non disponevano di un reddito tale da sostenere un spesa come quella
affrontata, dal 1728 in poi, di 80 ducati annui. Quindi molto probabilmente,
dopo il matrimonio avvenuto il 27 febbraio 1724, i coniugi andarono a vivere a
casa della madre di Zanetta, Marzia Baldissera, cheera vedova essendo mortole
il marito Girolamo Farussi poche settimane avanti il matrimonio della figlia. E
questa con ogni probabilità fu la casa in cui Casanova nacque il 2 aprile 1725
con l'assistenza della levatrice Regina Salvi. L'identificazione esatta della
casa natale è assai ardua, ma comunque è stata tentata. Il casanovista Helmuth
Watzlawick ha identificato la casa di Marzia Baldissera con l'attuale civico
2993 di Calle delle muneghe. Questa sarebbe dunque la casa natale di Casanova
(Fonte: Helmuth Watzlawick, House of childhood, house of birth; a topographical
distraction, in Intermédiaire des Casanovistes, Genève Année XVI 1999, pag. 17
e seg.). I coniugi Casanova si trasferirono nella casa di Calle della Commedia
al ritorno dalla fortunata tournée londinese quando rientrarono a Venezia col
secondogenito Francesco, nato a Londra il primo di giugno 1727. Tale abitazione
risulta essere stata di gran rappresentanza, su tre livelli, con un salone al
secondo piano che fu usato in occasione di feste. L'affitto di 80 ducati annui
era circa il doppio della media che veniva corrisposta nel vicinato per
appartamenti evidentemente meno lussuosi. A questo punto sembrerebbe tutto
chiaro, si tratta solo di trovare in Calle della commedia un'abitazione che
corrisponda alla descrizione: grandezza, salone al secondo piano e camera al
terzo, nonché corrispondenza con la proprietà che si sa essere stata con
certezza della famiglia Savorgnan. L'unica che potrebbe corrispondere alla
descrizione è quella sita nell'attuale Calle Malipiero (già Calle della
Commedia) al civico 3082. Ma su questo non tutti gli studiosi concordano, tanto
che la lapide apposta in calle Malipiero dice "In una casa di questa
calle, già Calle della Commedia, nacque il 2 aprile 1725 Giacomo Casanova"
senza alcun altro più specifico elemento. Alcuni sostengono che a causa di
rimaneggiamenti interni non è più possibile identificare la struttura
originaria. Uno studioso dell'argomento, Federico Montecuccoli degli Erri, ha
pubblicato (L'intermédiaire des Casanovistes, Genève Année XX, 2003, pag.3 e
seg.) un'analisi molto approfondita basata sulle cosiddette
"Condizioni" cioè sulle dichiarazioni dei redditi immobiliari che
venivano presentate dai proprietari. All'epoca, per verificare l'esattezza dei
dati dichiarati, si procedeva ad un'ispezione diretta casa per casa effettuata,
in ogni parrocchia, dal parroco. Egli procedeva con un certo ordine chiedendo a
ognuno il titolo di possesso. I proprietari dichiaravano il titolo di proprietà
e gli affittuari dovevano o esibire il contratto oppure giurare le condizioni
contrattuali. Poiché è stato ritrovato il documento in cui la madre di Zanetta,
Marzia, giurava per la figlia, nel frattempo trasferitasi per lavoro a Dresda,
che il contratto prevedeva un affitto di 80 ducati annui e che l'immobile era
di proprietà Savorgnan, conosciamo con certezza i dati contrattuali e la
residenza indicata sull'atto, cioè Calle della Commedia. Purtroppo le modifiche
urbanistiche e catastali intervenute non consentono con certezza
l'identificazione, anche perché all'epoca non esistevano dati catastali
precisi. Secondo lo studioso citato, l'abitazione è da identificarsi con la
casa al civico 3089 della Calle degli orbi che all'epoca potrebbe essere stata
designata come Calle della Commedia. Corrisponderebbero sia l'aspetto fisico
che la proprietà. Comunque tutte queste ipotesi si muovono entro un fazzoletto
di spazio di poche centinaia di metri; infatti è certo che i Casanova
abitavano, per motivi di lavoro, nei pressi del Teatro San Samuele, di
proprietà dei Grimani. Documento: Calle della Commedia 324|casa|Giovanna
Casanova comica al presente s'attrova in Dresda, giurò Marzia sua Madre|N.H
Zuanne e F.llo Co. Savornian|d.ti 80 (annui) Registro dell'anno 1740 Atti della
Parrocchia di S.Samuele. Non nel noto
lazzaretto del Vanvitelli, ma in quello in uso precedentemente. Si è mantenuta la cronologia quale risulta
dal testo delle Memorie. L'autore ha qui, come in altri casi, confuso le date o
fuso insieme più viaggi. In realtà la permanenza nel Lazzaretto era durata dal
26 (o 27) ottobre 1743 al 23 (o 24) novembre 1743. Quindi l'intervallo tra i
due viaggi è stato di tre mesi, non di sette. Come affermato dall'autore, il
soggiorno si svolse nel Lazzaretto "Vecchio", in quanto quello
"Nuovo", pur terminato nel febbraio del 1743, iniziò a funzionare
solo nel 1748 allorché la Reverenda Camera Apostolica se ne prese carico.
Sull'argomento si veda: Furio Luccichenti, Quattro settimane nel Lazzaretto in
L'Intermédiaire des Casanovistes Genève, Année XXVIII, anno pag. 711. In tale studio viene ricostruita la
situazione dei lazzaretti di Ancona e confrontato il racconto casanoviano con
le risultanze di archivio relative ai progetti e all'iconografia degli edifici
adibiti alle quarantene.La cronologia della permanenza è stata stimata
dall'autore nel periodo 26.10/23.11.1743. Un'altra cronologia differisce di un
giorno soltanto: 27.10/24.11.1743 (J. Casanova, Histoire de ma vie. Texte
intégral du manuscrit original, suivi de textes inédits. Editore Robert
Laffont, I, Cronologia, pag. XXX, cit.
in bibl.) Il progetto di ristrutturazione del Lazzaretto "Vecchio",
datato 1817, si conserva nell'Archivio di Stato di Roma (Collezione Mappe e
Piante, Parte I, Cart. 2, n° 87/I, II, III.). Esso consente di verificare lo
stato del fabbricato all'epoca della permanenza del Casanova. Il personaggio di Teresa/Bellino ripropone
una tematica ricorrente cioè la questione dell'aderenza alla realtà dei fatti
riportati nell'Histoire e il considerare il personaggio descritto come
realmente esistito. L'identificazione di Teresa con Angela Calori, nota
virtuosa, cioè cantante, di gran successo, si basa su ricerche effettuate già
dai casanovisti del passato, come Gustavo Gugitz, il quale però ritenne che il
personaggio fosse in realtà una costruzione letteraria. Teresa viene spesso
citata nell'Histoire sotto il nome fittizio di Teresa Lanti, maritata con
Cirillo Palesi, nome anch'esso fittizio. Ma molte delle notizie, date e fatti
riferiti nel racconto casanoviano non quadrano con quelli attribuibili alla
Calori. Quest'ultima è anche ricordata direttamente nell'Histoire allorché
Casanova riferisce di averla incontrata a Londra e di aver provato, vedendola,
le stesse sensazioni avute in occasione di un incontro, a Praga, con
Teresa/Bellino, il che ha indotto taluni a considerare questo fatto una prova
che la Teresa delle memorie fosse effettivamente la Calori. Molti studiosi (tra
gli altri Furio Luccichenti) propendono per l'assemblaggio d'invenzione, cioè
pensano che Casanova abbia costruito il personaggio di cui parla con elementi
derivanti da più persone diverse, il che non esclude che l'autore possa essersi
ispirato, in larga misura, anche alla Calori. Comunque gli studiosi non
demordono: Sandro Pasqual (L'intreccio, Casanova a Bologna, 2007, pag. 33 e
seguenti, cit. in bibl.) ha ipotizzato trattarsi non della Calori, ma di
un'altra famosa cantante bolognese, Vittoria Tesi, nota per il suo fascino
androgino e per aver interpretato spesso en travestie parti maschili. La
tendenza a romanzare del Casanova sarebbe in questo caso particolarmente
stimolata dall'ambiente e dai ruoli dei personaggi descritti. Egli ebbe sempre,
infatti, fortissimi legami col mondo teatrale, essendo figlio di attori e
avendo frequentato tutta la vita teatri e teatranti. Curiosamente, ogni volta
che rappresenta un personaggio femminile che ha a che fare col teatro, sia
cantante o ballerina, lo descrive, salvo rarissimi casi, in modo
particolarmente negativo; come se, pur attratto da quel mondo, ne disprezzasse
profondamente gli interpreti, attribuendo, soprattutto a quelli femminili, le
peggiori inclinazioni alla falsità, all'avidità e al calcolo. Teresa/Bellino è
una delle eccezioni, il che farebbe propendere per l'idealizzazione, cioè per
la non rispondenza alla realtà del personaggio, peraltro nascosto, come si è
detto, sotto un nome fittizio. Sul rapporto tra l'Histoire e il mondo del
teatro si veda, di Cynthia Craig, Representing anxiety. The figure of the
actress in Casanova's Histoire de ma vie. L'intermédiaire des casanovistes,
Genève, Année 2003 XX. Marco Barbaro (19
luglio 1688-25 novembre 1771), patrizio veneziano del ramo Barbaro di San
Aponal, figlio di Anzolo Maria, morto senza figli, lasciò a Casanova un legato
di sei zecchini al mese. (Fonte: Jacques Casanova de SeingaltHistoire de ma
vie. Texte intégral du manuscrit original, suivi de textes inédits. Editore
Robert Laffont cit. in bibl. I pag. 997,
che rinvia a Salvatore di Giacomo, Historia della mia fuga dai Piombi,
Milano) Marco Dandolo, patrizio
veneziano del ramo Dandolo di San Giovanni e Paolo. Documento: Testamento di
Marco Dandolo 28 marzo 1779 in Archivio di Stato di Venezia. Legato
testamentario "...Raccomando alla loro bontà la persona di Giacomo
Casanova, che mi fu in tutta la sua vita attaccato col cuore, e amoroso alla
mia persona, e che ha mostrato in ogni tempo la più comendabile gratitudine a'
miei pochi benefizj. Dichiaro che a lui appartengono tutti i mobili, che sono
nella stanza in cui dorme.......... Al suddetto Giacomo Casanova lascio il mio
orologio d'oro e le mie quattro possate d'argento" (Fonte:
L'Histoire de ma vie di Giacomo Casanova, Michele Mari, cit. in, pag.29 nota
104). L'identificazione di
"Henriette" insieme a quella di "Suor M.M." è stato uno
degli argomentipiù dibattuti dai casanovisti. Il motivo di tante accanite
ricerche è connesso con la centralità sentimentale di questi due personaggi
nella vita di Casanova. Il nome di Henriette ricorre di con tinuo nelle
Memorie e la sua identità è stata mascherata accuratamente dall'autore. Tra le
identificazioni che si sono susseguite quelle più autorevoli sono da ascrivere
a: John Rives Childs (1960), che sostenne trattarsi di Jeanne-Marie
d'Albert de Saint Hyppolite, nata il 22 marzo 1718, sposata a Jean-Baptiste
Laurent Boyer de Fonscolombe, nipote di Joseph de Margalet, proprietario del
castello di Luynes, che si trova nella zona descritta da Casanova come quella
di residenza di Henriette. Helmut Watzlawick (1989), che sostiene trattarsi di
Marie d'Albertas, nata a Marsiglia il 10 marzo 1722. Louis Jean André (1996),
che avrebbe identificato Henriette in Adelaide de Gueidan (1725-1786).
Quest'ultima ricostruzione è sostenuta da un apparato critico impressionante
che, attraverso una raccolta minuziosa di elementi (lettere, atti, iconografia,
topografia della zona), conduce a una notevole verosimiglianza dell'identificazione.
Immagini del castello di Valabre, residenza della famiglia De Gueidan, che
secondo André corrisponderebbe perfettamente alla descrizione datane da
Casanova senza nominarlo, sono visibili qui. Manca ancora però la prova
inoppugnabile, una lettera o un qualsiasi manoscritto del Casanova stesso che
consenta l'identificazione certa. Molti
studiosi hanno tentato l'identificazione di suor M.M. Lo studio più completo
sull'argomento si deve a Riccardo Selvatico, che la identifica con Marina Morosini
(R. Selvatico, Note casanovianeSuor M.M. Atti dell'Istituto Veneto di Scienze,
Lettere ed Arti T. CXLII (1983-84) pag. 235-266. Sul rapporto tra romanzo e autobiografia
nelle Memorie si veda tra gli altri L'Histoire de ma vie di Giacomo Casanova
Michele Mari, pag. 237 e seguenti, cit. in.
Balletti era il nipote della Fragoletta, l'attempata attrice amata dal
padre di Giacomo, Gaetano, al seguito della quale era arrivato in giovane età a
Venezia. (Fonte: Charles Samaran, Jacques Casanova, Vénitien, une vie
d'aventurier au XVIII siècle, Pag. 26, note 1,2,3. Cit. in bibl. con rinvio a
un passaggio delle Memorie di Goldoni)
Casanova fu iniziato nella loggia Amitié amis choisis, probabilmente su
presentazione di Balletti (Fonte: Jean-Didier Vincent, Casanova il contagio del
piacere, cit. in bibl. pag. 145, nota 35).
L'affiliazione di Mozart alla Fratellanza Massonica avvenne il 14
dicembre del 1784, nella loggia “Zur Wohltätigkeit” (Alla Beneficenza) di
Vienna (Fonte: Lidia Bramani, Mozart massone e rivoluzionario, pag. 56. Bruno
Mondadori, 2005). Nel novembre del 1750,
Casanova ricevette i gradi di Compagno e Maestro nella loggia di S. Giovanni di
Gerusalemme (cfr. Helmut Watzlawick, Chronologie, pag. LXIII e LXIV in
Casanova, Histoire de ma vie, tome I. Édition publiée sous la direction de
Gérard Lahouati,, cit. in bibl.)
Malgrado la diuturna applicazione, il fatto di aver avuto eccellenti
maestri come Crebillon e di aver potuto fare ampia pratica durante la
permanenza in Francia, il francese di Casanova non fu mai ritenuto
sufficientemente perfetto nella forma scritta, soprattutto a causa degli
“italianismi” che si riscontrano numerosissimi nelle Memorie. Casanova
riferisce con dovizia di particolari il suo incontro con Crebillon e la
successiva intensa frequentazione allo scopo di imparare la lingua. Ammette
anche i suoi limiti: infatti scrive: Per un anno intero andai da Crebillon tre
volte alla settimana ma non riuscii mai a liberarmi dei miei italianismi
(Fonte: G. Casanova, Storia della mia vita, Mondadori). L'imputazione e la sentenza: 21 agosto 1755
Venute a cognizione del Tribunale le molte riflessibili colpe di Giacomo
Casanova principalmente in disprezzo publico della Santa Religione, SS. EE. lo
fecero arrestare e passar sotto li piombi. Andrea Diedo Inquisitor. Antonio
Condulmer Inquisitor. Antonio Da Mula Inquisitor. L'oltrascritto Casanova
condannato anni cinque sotto li piombi. Andrea Diedo Inquisitor. Antonio
Condulmer Inquisitor. Antonio Da Mula Inquisitor. (VeneziaArchivio di
StatoInquisitori di StatoAnnotazioniB. 534245)
Riferte di Giovanni Battista Manuzzi, confidente degli Inquisitori di
Stato Incaricata la mia obbedienza dal Venerato Comando di riferire chi sia
Giacomo Casanova, generalmente rilevo ch'è figlio di un comico e di una
commediante; viene descritto il detto Casanova di un carattere cabalon, che si
fa profittare della credulità delle persone come fece col N.H. Ser Zanne
Bragadin, per vivere alle spalle di questo o di quello... Giovanni Battista
Manuzzi, 22 marzo 1755....Mi sovvenne allora che lo stesso Casanova parlato mi
avea ne' giorni passati della Setta de' Muratori, raccontandomi i onori e
vantaggi che si hanno ad essere nel numero de' confratelli, che vi aveva
dell'inclinazione il N.H. Ser Marco Donado per essere arrolato a detta Setta...
Giovanni Battista Manuzzi, 12 luglio 1755.
Secondo il casanovista Pierre Gruet, il motivo fondamentale dell'arresto
di Casanova è da ricercare proprio nella relazione con suor M.M. che, se l'identificazione
con Marina Morosini è corretta (sul punto si veda R. Selvatico, Note
casanovianeSuor M.M. Atti dell'Istituto Veneto di Scienze, Lettere ed Arti),
apparteneva ad una delle più potenti famiglie del patriziato veneziano. I
Morosini avrebbero quindi fatto pressioni sugli inquisitori per far cessare la
scandalosa situazione. Cfr. Jacques Casanova de SeingaltHistoire de ma vie.
Texte intégral du manuscrit original,....Ed. Laffont, cit. in bibl. Vol I, pag
1065. Bibliografiche Giacomo
Casanova, Histoire de ma vie, Wiesbaden-Paris, F. A. Brockhaus-Librairie Plon,
1960-62. Giacomo Casanova, Examen des
"Etudes de la Nature" et de "Paul et Virginie" de Bernardin
de Saint Pierre, 1788-1789127. Carlo
Goldoni, Memorie, Torino, Einaudi, 1967158.
Fonte: Helmut Watzlawick, Chronologie, pag. LVI in Casanova, Histoire de
ma vie, tome I. Édition publiée sous la direction de Gérard Lahouati,, cit. in
bibl. G.Casanova,Storia della mia vita,
Mondadori 2001, I, pag. 502 cit. in
bibl. (Fonte: P.Molmenti, Carteggi casanoviani) (Fonte E.Grossato, Un bizzarro allievo dello
Studio Padovano. Giacomo Casanova, in Padova e la sua provincia) (Fonte:
P.Del Negro, Giacomo Casanova e l'Padova, estratto da Quaderni per la storia
dell'Padova n°25, 1992) Aprile, maggio
1741 secondo la cronologia delle Memorie. Cfr. Helmut Watzlawick, Chronologie,
pag. LVIII in Casanova, Histoire de ma vie, tome I. Édition publiée sous la
direction de Gérard Lahouati,, cit. in bibl.
(Fonte: Helmut Watzlawick, Chronologie, pag. LXIII in Casanova, Histoire
de ma vie, tome I. Édition publiée sous la direction de Gérard Lahouati,, cit.
in bibl.) Helmut Watzlawick,
Chronologie, pag. LXIII e LXIV in Casanova, Histoire de ma vie, tome I. Édition
publiée sous la direction de Gérard Lahouati,, cit. in bibl. Fonte: Silvio Calzolari, Vita, Amori, Mistero
di un libertino veneziano, cit. in bibl. pag.32: Ma perché fu fermato? Non
aveva da scontare alcuna pena. L'arresto fu probabilmente organizzato dal Grimani
che voleva dargli una lezione per aver venduto di nascosto i mobili della casa
paterna e per aver maltrattato un suo incaricato, Antonio Razzetta, che doveva
occuparsi della questione. Si veda di
Furio Luccichenti, La prassi memorialistica di Giacomo Casanova,
L'Intermédiaire des casanovistes, XII (1995), pag. 27 e seguenti. Si veda di Pierre-Yves Beaurepaire, Grand
Tour', ‘République des Lettres' e reti massoniche: una cultura della mobilità
nell'Europa dei Lumi », in Storia d'Italia, Annali 21, La Massoneria, Gian
Mario Cazzaniga, Torino, Giulio Einaudi, 200632-49 cfr. Helmut Watzlawick, Chronologie, pag.
LXIII e LXIV in Casanova, Histoire de ma vie, tome I. Édition publiée sous la
direction de Gérard Lahouati,, cit. in bibl.
cfr. Helmut Watzlawick, Chronologie, pag. LXIII e LXIV in Casanova,
Histoire de ma vie, tome I. Édition publiée sous la direction de Gérard
Lahouati,, cit. in bibl, Fonte: Elio
Bartolini, Vita di Giacomo Casanova, pag. 140 e seguenti, cit. in bibl. Fonte: Bruno Rosada, Il Settecento veneziano.
La letteratura, Venezia, Corbo e Fiore, 2007, pag. 231, cit. in bibl. Riguardo alla paternità del quadro in
questione, la precedente attribuzione a Mengs (risalente a Johann Joachim
Winckelmann) è stata praticamente abbandonata dalla critica e, allo stato delle
ricerche, il quadro è probabilmente attribuibile a Francesco Narici, pittore di
origine genovese attivo a Napoli. La tela fu scoperta nel 1952 a Milano da un
restauratore di Bologna: Armando Preziosi, il quale sosteneva di aver trovato
tra la cornice, sicuramente coeva, e il quadro, un biglietto manoscritto che
recava le parole Jean-Jacques Casanova 1767. Il fatto che il soggetto
rappresentato possa effettivamente essere Giacomo Casanova, si basa su una
serie di dati che sono: l'osservazione delle fattezze, soprattutto il
naso; il fatto che essendo il quadro a grandezza naturale consenta di ipotizzare
trattarsi di un uomo della stessa statura di Casanova che è nota; il fatto che
i tratti assomiglino in maniera sorprendente all'altro quadro, di mano del
fratello Francesco, di sicura attribuzione, sia per l'autore che per il
soggetto. Inoltre l'insieme del ritratto: l'amorino, i libri, fanno pensare a
una simbologia molto affine al personaggio di Casanova che, pur nello stile di
vita brillante e mondano, teneva sempre a porsi come un letterato. Il quadro
passò, nel 1993, da Preziosi alla collezione privata del casanovista Giuseppe
Bignami di Genova. Per documentarsi sull'argomento si veda: Giuseppe Bignami,
Aggiornamenti e proposte sull'iconografia casanoviana, in L'intermédiaire des
casanovistes XI, 1994, pagg. 17-23. Il
mondo di Giacomo Casanova.... (catalogo della mostra a Ca' Rezzonico, 1998,
cit. in bibl.). Giuseppe Bignami, Casanova tra Genova e Venezia, La Casana, n°
3 luglio-settembre 2008, pag. 25-37. Una summa dell'iconografia casanoviana,
che si compone di nove opere di cui soltanto due di sicura attribuzione, è
consultabile in Casanova, la passion de la liberté, catalogo della mostra
organizzata dalla BNF,, Parigi, Coédition Bibliothèque nationale de France /
Seuil, pag.68-71 Marino Balbi
(1719-1783), monaco somasco. Era un patrizio veneziano appartenente a una
casata barnabota, cioè a una di quelle famiglie patrizie che avevano perso ogni
ricchezza e i cui membri erano ridotti a vivere di espedienti. Erano detti
barnabotti in quanto gravitavano intorno a Campo San Barnaba (Fonte: L'histoire
de ma vie di Giacomo Casanova, Michele Mari, pag. 22, citato in ). Si trattava di un certo Andreoli, custode del
palazzo, che il Casanova vide approssimarsi, da una fessura del portone,
"in parrucca nera e con un mazzo di chiavi in mano". Sul punto, per
maggiore approfondimento, si veda il commento di Riccardo Selvatico Cento note
per Casanova a Venezia, Furio Luccichenti, ed. Neri Pozza 1997, pag. 316. Sentenza di condanna a carico di Lorenzo
Basadonna, carceriere del Casanova Lorenzo Basadonna era custode delle Prigioni
de Piombi, che esisteva nei camerotti per difetti del suo ministero, da quali
ne provenne la fuga al primo novembre decorso da Piombi stessi delBalbi
somasco, e di Giacomo Casanova, che vi erano condannati, per tenui motivi di
contrasto con Giuseppe Ottaviani pur condannato ne' camerotti, ne commise la
interfezione. Presi dal Tribunale gl'essami per rilevare l'origine, e i modi
del non ordinario avvenimento, risultò infatti per la confessione stessa del
reo il caso per proditorio in ogni sua circostanza. Tutto che però meritasse il
supplizio maggiore, la clemenza del Tribunale con pieni riflessi di carità e di
clemenza è devenuta alla sentenza qui contro estesa''. Alvise Barbarigo Inq.r
Lorenzo Grimani Inq.r Bortolo Diedo Inq.r 175710 giugno. Lorenzo Basadonna sia
condannato ne' Pozzi per anni dieci. Alvise Barbarigo Inq.r Lorenzo Grimani
Inq.r Bortolo Diedo Inq.r Venezia, Archivio di Stato, Inquisitori di Stato,
Annotazioni, R. 535 c.83. Jeanne Camus
de Pontcarré marchesa d'Urfé 1705-1775, sposò nel 1724 Louis-Christophe de
Lascaris d'Urfé de Larochefoucauld marchese di Langeac, dal quale ebbe tre
figli. Rimase vedova nel 1734 (Fonte: G. Casanova Storia della mia vita, ed.
Mondadori 2001, II pag.1634 nota) G. Casanova, Historie de ma vie, Libro 2,
Volume 5, Capitolo 3 Molti commentatori
hanno avanzato dubbi sul racconto casanoviano relativo all'istituzione della
lotteria, che sarebbe servita a finanziare la costruzione della École
militaireprogetto che era sostenuto in modo pressante dalla Pompadoure su
particolari, relativi all'architettura dell'operazione ideata dai fratelli
Ranieri e Giovanni Calzabigi, così come esposti nell'Histoire. Comunque, vista
la rilevanza della documentazione, è indubitabile che Casanova abbia svolto un
ruolo chiave, probabilmente mettendo a disposizioni le sue forti entrature
politiche. Il che dimostrerebbe anche che il rapporto con de Bernis e il suo
entourage era molto solido. Sul punto si veda G. Casanova, Storia della mia
vita, Mondadori 2001 cit. in bibl. II,
Pag. 164 nota 1, in cui si puntualizza che la lista dei 28 ricevitori,
pubblicata nel febbraio 1758, non riporta il nome di Casanova in relazione alla
ricevitoria di Rue Saint Denis, citata nel racconto autobiografico. Secondo
Samaran, (Jacques Casanova ecc.. Cit. In bibl.) Casanova avrebbe diretto una
ricevitoria dal settembre 1758 a tutto il 1759, ma a Rue Saint Martin. Si veda
anche Jacques Casanova de SeingaltHistoire de ma vie…. Éd. Robert Laffont 1993
cit. in bibl. II, pag 21 nota 4
(con rinvio a C. Meucci, Casanova Finanziere, cit. in bibl. pag. 66 e seg.),
pag. 23 nota 2, (con rinvio a A. Zottoli, Giacomo Casanova) e Jean Leonnet, Les
loteries d'état en France aux XVIII e XIX siécles. Imprimerie nationale, 1963,
pag 15 e seg. Il decreto di fondazione della lotteria è un arrêt delConsiglio
di Stato del re Luigi XV, datato 15 ottobre 1757 (BnF, Departement des Manuscrit
Française 26469, fol. 198). Del viaggio
nei Paesi Bassi, come incaricato di una missione diplomatica descritto da
Casanova, vi è un riscontro obiettivo: il passaporto, ritrovato a Dux,
rilasciatogli il 13 ottobre 1758 da Matthys Lestevenon van Berkenroode
(1715-1797), ambasciatore della Repubblica delle Sette Province a Parigi dal
1750 al 1762 (Fonte: G. Casanova Storia della mia vita, ed. Mondadori). Il
documento originale è riprodotto in Jacques Casanova de SeingaltHistoire de ma
vie. Texte intégral du manuscrit original,.... Ed. Laffont, cit. in bibl. Vol
II, Appendice Documents pag. 1193 e seg.
Dopo il naufragio dei progetti matrimoniali di Giustiniana, la madre
Anna Gazini (che aveva sposato, dopo la nascita della primogenita, sir Richard
Wynne) decise di lasciare Venezia per evitare che i pettegolezzi danneggiassero
le altre due figlie, Mary Elizabeth, nata nel 1741, e Teresa Susanna, nata nel
1742. La partenza avvenne il 2 ottobre 1758 (Fonte: Andrea di Robilant, Un
amore veneziano, Milano, Mondadori, 2003, pag. 23 e seg. e pag. 120 e
seg.). La lettera autografa di
Giustiniana Wynne è andata all'asta all'Hôtel Drouot (Parigi) il 12 ottobre
1999. Il collezionista che l'ha acquistata, e che ha voluto mantenere
l'anonimato, ne ha però consentito la pubblicazione integrale (cfr. Helmut
Watzlawick, L'Intermédiaire des Casanovistes anno 2003 pag. 25) «...siete filosofo, siete onesto, avete la
mia vita nelle mani, Salvattemi se c'è ancora rimedio, e se potete...» G. Casanova, Storia della mia vita,
Mondadori, Edizione 2001, II, pag. 394,
cit. in bibl. Histoire, volume 15, capitolo XIX Nous avons ici une espèce de plaisant qui
serait très capable de faire une façon de Secchia Rapita, et de peindre les
ennemis de la raison dans tout l'excès de leur impertinence... (Fonte: Œuvres
complètes de Voltaire avec des notes... Parigi 1837, II pag. 91)
Fonte: Frédéric Manfrin in Casanova, la passion de la liberté, Parigi,
Coédition Bibliothèque nationale de France / Seuil,, Chronologie, pag.
221. G. Casanova, Storia della mia vita,
Mondadori 2001, II, pag. 1508 cit. in
bibl. Marie Anne Geneviéve Augspurger, detta
La Charpillon, (circa 1746-1778), nota cortigiana londinese (Fonte: G.
Casanova, Storia della mia vita, ed. Mondadori 2001, III pag.117 nota). Un riscontro del soggiorno di Casanova a
Berlino deriva da una annotazione nel diario di James Boswell, datata 1º
settembre 1764, in cui lo scrittore scozzese accenna all'incontro avvenuto da
Rufin, cioè alla locanda Zu den drei Lilien (Ai tre gigli) in Poststraße, dove
anche Casanova alloggiava. In particolare scrive: Ho mangiato da Rufin dove
Nehaus, un italiano, voleva brillare come grande filosofo e quindi sosteneva di
dubitare di tutto, a cominciare dalla sua stessa esistenza. Lo ritenni un
perfetto cretino. (A.Pottle, The Yale edition of the Private Papers of James
Boswell, London 1953, IV, pag. 67). Il
nome Nehaus è la traduzione di Casanova in tedesco (con un errore di grafia =
Neuhaus) e risulta che Casanova abbia usato il suo cognome tradotto, con
diverse forme. Ad esempio, in una lettera a lui indirizzata a Wesel, si legge
come destinatario comte de Nayhaus de Farussi, Farussi era il cognome della
madre del Casanova. (Fonte: Helmut Watzlawick, Casanova and Boswell, nota in
L'Intermédiaire des Casanovistes, XXIII 2006, pag 41). Fonte: Elio Bartolini, Vita di Giacomo
Casanova, cit. in bibl. Cap. XVII pag. 271. Casanova passò la frontiera russa a
Riga sotto il nome di Farussi, cognome della madre (cfr. Helmut Watzlawick,
Chronologie, pag. LXXIV in Histoire de ma vie, tome I. Édition publiée sous la
direction de Gérard Lahouati,, cit. in bibl.)
Fonte: Elio Bartolini, Vita di Giacomo Casanova, cit. in bibl. Cap. XIX
pag. 273, 274. Secondo quanto affermato nelle Memorie, Casanova incontrò varie
volte la sovrana, sottoponendole vari progetti, ma senza alcun risultato. Franciszek Ksawery Branicki, conte di Korczak,
(1730–1819). Sul contesto storico in cui si muoveva Branicki, che era un
rappresentante della nobiltà filorussa, la cui collusione con la potente
nazione vicina rappresentò un vero e proprio tradimento, si può consultare la
voce dedicata a Tadeusz Kościuszko, in particolare il paragrafo "Ritorno
in Polonia". Anna Binetti (cognome
di nascita Ramon) celebre ballerina, nota in tutta Europa. Sposò nel 1751 il
ballerino Georges Binet. Dopo il ritiro dalle scene (circa 1780) si dedicò
all'insegnamento della danza a Venezia (Fonte: G. Casanova, Storia della mia
vita, ed. Mondadori 2001, III pag.1183
nota) G. Casanova, Storia della mia
vita, Mondadori 2001, III, pag. 285 e
seguenti, cit. in bibl. La vicenda
sollevò un clamore notevole e fu riportata nelle cronache. Una descrizione dei
fatti, che ricalca sostanzialmente il racconto casanoviano e ne attesta la
veridicità, si trova in una lettera datata 19 marzo 1766, scritta da Giuseppe
Antonio Taruffi, segretario del nunzio apostolico Antonio Eugenio Visconti, e
spedita da Varsavia a Francesco Albergati Capacelli (Ernesto Masi, Ed.
Zanichelli Bologna, 1878. La vita i tempi gli amici di Francesco Albergati
pagg. 196 e seg. e nota 1 pag. 203.)
Fonte: Elio Bartolini, Vita di Giacomo Casanova, cit. in bibl. Cap. XIX
pag. 288. Fonte: Elio Bartolini, Vita di
Giacomo Casanova, cit. in bibl. Cap. XIX pag. 293. Cfr. anche, per la data di
morte di Bragadin e la data in cui la notizia fu appresa da Casanova (26
ottobre), Helmut Watzlawick, Chronologie, in Histoire de ma vie, tome I.
Édition publiée sous la direction de Gérard Lahouati,, cit. in bibl.) Fonte: Elio Bartolini, Vita di Giacomo
Casanova. I soggiorni romani di Casanova furono tre: il primo dal 1º settembre
1743 al 23 febbraio 1744; il secondo dal dicembre 1760 al 5 febbraio 1761; il
terzo dal 14 maggio 1770 a fine maggio 1771. I personaggi descritti,
numerosissimi, sono noti alle cronache del tempo e quindi è possibile ritenere
veridico il racconto che consente riscontri obiettivi. Uno dei riscontri è
costituito da un documento che certifica la presenza a Roma del Casanova
durante la Quaresima del 1771. Documento: Stato delle anime 1771, in Registri
parrocchiali di S.Andrea delle Fratte Piazza di SpagnaCasa del Conservatorio di
S.Eufemia Francesco Poletti anni 51 M. Angela moglie.anni 40 Margarita figlia
zitella anni 16 Tommaso figlio anni 20 Vincenzo figlio anni 14 Anna Proli serva
anni 40 Piggionanti Giovanni Nicolao Fedriani anni 22 Giuseppe
fratello anni 18 D. Giacinto Cerreti anni 37 Il signor Giacomo Casanova...anni
46 L'immobile in questione è quello, antistante l'Ambasciata di Spagna,
sito nella piazza all'attuale numero civico 32. L'abitazione del Casanova era
al secondo piano. (Fonte: A.Valeri Casanova a Roma cit. in bibl.) Si è a lungo discusso circa l'esistenza di
ulteriori capitoli che dovrebbe essere comprovata dal titolo originale
dell'opera: Histoire de ma vie jusqu'à l'an 1797, come risulta dalla prima
pagina della prefazione. Tuttavia ciò rimane solo un'ipotesi, perché non è
stato mai trovato un manoscritto riguardante il periodo successivo al 1774. Va
quindi considerato che, fino alla data in questione, la fonte primaria delle
vicende di Casanova sono le sue Memorie; dopo il termine temporale delle
medesime ci si è basati su epistolari o notizie di altro tipo: scritti di contemporanei,
registrazioni amministrative, notizie apparse su gazzette. Alcuni autori hanno
tentato una ricostruzione cronologica dei fatti utilizzando i documenti
disponibili, tra cui il Brunelli (Bruno Brunelli, Vita di Giacomo Casanova dopo
le sue memorie, cit. in bibl.) e il Bartolini (Elio Bartolini, Casanova dalla
felicità alla morte 17741798, cit. in bibl.). Evidentemente le notizie
riguardanti il periodo compreso temporalmente nelle Memorie sono enormemente
più numerose di quelle relative al periodo successivo. Circa l'attendibilità e
la precisione delle notizie riportate nelle Memorie, il dibattito è stato
amplissimo, ma numerosissimi riscontri ne hanno comprovato la sostanziale
veridicità. Il viaggio da Trieste a
Venezia iniziò il 10 settembre 1774; la data è verificabile da una notizia
apparsa sulla Gazzetta Goriziana “Sabato 10 corrente è passato per qua il
signor Giacomo Casanova di Saint Gall celebre per li diversi famosi incontri da
lui avuti, girando l'Europa; come non meno per le opere da lui stampate, fra le
quali abbiamo già annunziato in un nostro foglio la Storia delle vicende di
Polonia; ha egli inaspettatamente ottenuto il suo perdono e dopo venti anni si
è restituito a Venezia sua patria”. (fonte: Rudj Gorian Editoria e informazione
a Gorizia nel Settecento: la “Gazzetta goriziana”, Trieste, Deputazione di
Storia Patria per la Venezia Giulia, pag. 221-223). È da osservare che la notorietà del
personaggio era grande e che anche della sua attività di scrittore, oltre che
di avventuriero, si parlava molto, negli ambienti intellettuali, ancor prima
del suo rientro a Venezia. In una lettera datata Venezia Elisabetta Caminer,
rivolgendosi a Giuseppe Bencivenni Pelli, scrive "...È dunque costì quel
famoso Casanova che ha fatto tante pazzie e alcune cose buone? Io lo conosco
assai di nome, e mio padre lo conosce anche di persona. Ditemi, in che le sue maniere
sono diverse dalle vostre? Qual tuono è il suo? Voi già sapete la sua
prodigiosa fuga da' piombi di Venezia. Stampa egli codesta sua Storia della
Polonia? Avete voi letta la sua confutazione dell'opera di Amelot della
Houssaye?..." (Fonte: Rita Unfer Lukoschik, Lettere di Elisabetta Caminer, organizzatrice
culturale, Edizioni Think Adv, Conselve, Padova, 2006). Si tratta di Lorenzo Morosini, Alvise Emo,
Pietro Pisani, Nicolò Erizzo, Andrea Tron, Sebastiano Venier. L'elenco completo dei sottoscrittori è
consultabile in: G. Casanova, Storia della mia vita, ed. Mondadori 1965, Piero
Chiara, vol VII. (pag.293 e seg.) Delle
lettere di Casanova alla Buschini non resta nulla ma, poiché spessissimo la
Buschini, nel testo, ripete le notizie inviatele e le richieste di notizie
rivoltele, è facile ricavare, almeno in parte, il testo delle lettere ricevute.
A Dux sono state reperite da Aldo Ravà 38 lettere di Francesca Buschini che
coprono il periodo dal luglio del 1779 all'ottobre del 1787. Di queste, 33 sono
state riportate nel volume Lettere di donne a Giacomo Casanova Aldo Ravà,
Milano, Treves 1912 cit. in bibl. L'edizione critica più recente delle lettere
di Francesca Lettres de Francesca Buschini à G. Casanova, 1996, è stata edita
Marco Leeflang, Utrecht, Marie-Françose Luna, Grenoble, Antonio Trampus,
Trieste, cit. in bibl. La corrispondenza consente di ricostruire gli anni
successivi al secondo esilio di Giacomo Casanova. Attraverso esse si vive il
dramma umano della Buschini la quale, col passare degli anni, era sempre più
avvolta da una cupa povertà, da dolori familiari causati dal fratello, che
praticamente viveva alle sue spalle e dalla madre, che col tempo diveniva
sempre più intollerante. Quando Casanova dovette sospendere i suoi aiuti in
denaro, essendo ormai nell'impossibilità materiale di inviarne, la Buschini si
ritrovò letteralmente in mezzo alla strada, dovendo lasciare l'appartamento di
Barbaria delle Tole, non avendo più la possibilità di pagare l'affitto. Nessuna
notizia ulteriore ci è giunta, ma la sua testimonianza di lenta emarginazione è
oltremodo toccante. A.Ravà, Lettere di
donne a Giacomo Casanova, cit. in bibl. p.176 e nota. Fonte dell'ammontare del
canone: A.Ravà, J. Marsan, Sui passi di
Casanova a Venezia. Fonte: Elio Bartolini, Vita di Giacomo Casanova, cit. in
bibl. pag. 347 Fonte: G. Casanova,
Analisi degli studi sulla natura... G. Simeoni. Ed. Pendragon 2003, pag. 9. Il
testo del libello è stata oggetto di una pubblicazione a tiratura limitata
Furio Luccichenti, ed. Il collezionista 1981. Si è ipotizzato che il Grimani
abbia incaricato della redazione della replica Girolamo Molin, tuttavia il
libello non fu mai dato alle stampe all'epoca, ma fu fatto circolare in forma
manoscritta (Fonte: Bruno Brunelli, Vita di Giacomo Casanova dopo le sue
memorie, cit. in bibl. pag.68 nota 9).
Foscarini morì il 23 aprile del 1785.
Il conflitto con la servitù del castello divenne con gli anni sempre più
acuto, tanto da far giudicare insostenibile la permanenza al castello del
maggiordomo Georg Feldkirchner, che fu infatti rimosso dall'incarico. La
diatriba fu poi oggetto dell'opera Lettres écrites au sieur Faulkircher...
(vedi in ) nella quale Casanova trasfuse tutto l'astio accumulato per le
persecuzionia suo diresubite. Il
concetto è ripreso da un passo di Piero Chiara (cfr. G. Casanova, Storia della
mia vita, ed. Mondadori 1965, Piero Chiara, vol VII. pag.13, 14)...Ma il
Casanova è quello che è, e non vuole essere altro; vero eroe del suo tempo per
l'audacia, la sincerità con la quale lo visse, allo sbaraglio, senza temere i
colpi di spada o di pistola, il carcere o l'esilio, pur di consumare fino
all'ultimo l'avventura della sua esistenza in un'epoca in cui la vita era
un'opera d'arte e si poteva farne, con vera gioia, un capolavoro dei
sensi..... Il casanovista Helmut
Watzlawick ha pubblicato (cfr. L'intermédiaire des casanovistes, anno XXIII,
2006 pag. 38) una breve nota intitolata Lieu de sepolture de Casanova, in cui
riferisce la notizia, comunicatagli da uno studioso tedesco, Hermann Braun, di
una testimonianza sull'argomento individuata nell'opera di un memorialista e
storico coevo al Casanova: Johann Georg Meusel (1743-1820), professore di
storia a Erlangen. Meusel, nella sua opera Archiv für Künstler und
Kunst-Freunde (Dresda, 1805 I parte
seconda, pag. 172) fa il seguente commento: «L'aîne, Jacques Casanova, Docteur
en Droit de Padoue et bibliothécaire de Comtes de Waldstein-Warthemberg, à Dux
en Bohème, où il mourût aussi, immortalisé par un monument plein de goût que le
Comte lui a fait ériger dans son jardin, où il le faisait aussi enterrer selon
son propre désir.» Pare quindi evidente che la sepoltura fosse ubicata all'interno
del parco del castello e il conte vi avesse fatto erigere un monumento “pieno
di gusto” in memoria del suo bibliotecario. Il conte Waldstein aveva certamente
dell'affetto per Casanova, oltre al legame derivante dalla comune appartenenza
alla Massoneria, se è vero che gli conferì un incarico formale di bibliotecario
ma in pratica, visto lo scarso impegno che comportava, una pensione, che lo
mantenne per lunghi anni provvedendo a tutti i suoi bisogni e che spesso
dovette far fronte ai suoi debiti, talvolta cospicui, con gli editori. È quindi
più che logico che abbia deciso di onorarne la memoria con una sepoltura degna
e con un monumento funebre. Inoltre il Meusel è conosciuto come un biografo
scrupoloso e non avrebbe avuto motivo per inventare un dettaglio facilmente
verificabile da parte dei suoi lettori, tra i quali Francesco Casanova,
fratello minore di Giacomo e famoso pittore, al quale Meusel dedicò, nella
medesima opera, un contributo biografico e che era ancora in vita al tempo
della redazione dell'opera. Come sostiene Watzlawick, per avere la prova certa,
bisognerebbe revisionare la contabilità del castello al momento della morte del
Casanova, cercando la traccia dei pagamenti effettuati per la sepoltura e
l'erezione del monumento. Edizione in
tre tomi basata sul manoscritto conservato presso la BNF, con le varianti di
testo relative a passi rimaneggiati dall'autore. Attualmente () è l'edizione
critica di riferimento. Archivio
Alinari, su alinariarchives. Archivio
GrangerNew York Opere di LonghiCasanovaUbication:
Firenze Miti e personaggi della
modernità: Dizionario di storia, letteratura, arte, musica e cinema, edizioni
Bruno Mondadori,: «Nell'arte. Di Casanova esistono alcuni ritratti, tra cui un
dipinto giovanile a opera del fratello, uno di Lon ghi che lo raffigura
all'epoca della maturità (Collezione Gritti, Venezia), e un terzo attribuibile
a Mengs» (NDR: oggi quest'ultimo è attribuito a Francesco Narici) Il quadro, conservato un tempo nella
collezione Gritti di Venezia, poi a Firenze, e qua riprodotto in bianco e nero
in una fotografia o una stampa eseguita forse negli anni '30, sarebbe stato
eseguito presumibilmente nel 1774 allorché Casanova rientrò a Venezia
dall'esilio. Sembra si trattasse di un lavoro a olio su tavola di dimensioni
sconosciute donato dall'artista a un membro della famiglia Gritti.
Successivamente passò a Francesco Antonio Gritti di Treviso, zio materno
dell'avvocato Ugo Monis di Roma che lo ereditò dalla sorella di Francesco
Antonio, Maria Gritti Rizzi. Nel 1934 il quadro faceva ancora parte della
collezione di Monis. Molto dubbia l'identificazione del Casanova nel soggetto
ritratto che apparentemente non sembra superare la quarantina mentre, all'epoca
in cui dovrebbe essere stato eseguito il ritratto, Casanova era vicino ai
cinquant'anni. Una summa dell'iconografia casanoviana, che si compone di nove
opere di cui soltanto due di sicura attribuzione, è consultabile in Casanova,
la passion de la liberté, catalogo della mostra organizzata dalla BNF,, Parigi,
Coédition Bibliothèque nationale de France/Seuil, pag.68-71. Su Alessandro
Longhi si veda l'amplissimo studio di Paolo Delorenzi (consultabile su Ca'
Foscari online). In particolare a pag. 237 vengono riassunte le vicende del
ritratto con richiami bibliografici a Ver Heyden De Lancey C., Les portraits de
Jacques et de François Casanova, «Gazette des Beaux-Arts», Bernier G., Beau
garçon, Casanova?, «L‟OEil», La questione è stata oggetto di un cospicuo
dibattito sul quale spesso ha pesato il giudizio moralmente negativo circa la
personalità dell'autore. Soprattutto al primo apparire di opere critiche sulla
questione, cioè alla fine dell'Ottocento, primi del Novecento, si tendeva a
separare la indiscussa validità storica delle Memorie, nel loro complesso, dal
giudizio di riprovazione morale nei confronti dell'autore e dei passi delle
memorie ritenuti sconvenienti. Posizione questa ad esempio assunta da Benedetto
Croce il quale si occupò ripetutamente di personaggi e vicende casanoviane (si
veda: Personaggi casanoviani in Aneddoti e profili settecenteschi, ed. Sandron
1914) pur definendo le Memorie "un libro osceno" (B.Croce, Salvatore
di Giacomo e il canto del grillo in "la Critica"). Col tempo il
valore storico e letterario cominciò ad avere sempre più numerosi sostenitori,
come Ettore Bonora il quale scrisse...fissati i loro limiti. i Mémoires restano
un libro eccezionale, rappresentativo quant'altri mai del mondo settecentesco,
un libro che, per la sua stessa ricchezza di materiali quanto pochi altri, può
rivelare a un lettore paziente lo spirito della vecchia società che la
Rivoluzione doveva distruggere (E.Bonora Letterati, memorialisti e viaggiatori
del Settecento, pag 717, citato in ). Fonte: T. Iermano, Le scritture della
modernità, citato in. Emblematico a
questo riguardo è il caso del romanzo utopistico Icosameron (Praga, 1788) che
costituì un tale insuccesso editoriale da minare definitivamente la già non
florida situazione finanziaria del Casanova. Malgrado gli sforzi dei
volenterosi sottoscrittori, si accumulò una perdita di duemila fiorini, secondo
una nota autobiografica rinvenuta a Dux, di ottocento zecchini secondo una
lettera a Pietro Antonio Zaguri. Cifre comunque di grande rilievo che
costrinsero l'incauto scrittore e improvvisato editore a ricorrere a prestiti
usurari, dando in pegno i pochissimi beni residui e perfino capi di vestiario
(Fonte: Elio Bartolini Vita di Giacomo Casanova, ed. Mondadori 1998, pag. 389 e
seg.). Fonte: Elio Bartolini, Vita di Giacomo
Casanova. La redazione della Confutazione fu soltanto uno dei tanti elementi
della lunga strategia che condusse all'ottenimento del perdono da parte delle
autorità della Repubblica e il consenso al ritorno in patria dell'esule, il che
avvenne peraltro anni dopo. La pubblicazione dell'opera fu sicuramente
appoggiata da Girolamo Zulian il quale, pur privo di parentele influenti, stava
compiendo un percorso politico lusinghiero e attraverso il sostegno a Casanova
si aspettava di ottenere dai patrizi che lo appoggiavano, alcuni dei quali
molto influenti come i Memmo e il procuratore Lorenzo Morosini, di essere
aiutato a sua volta nel prosieguo della carriera. Zulian era anche vicino ad
ambienti massonici il che spiegava ulteriormente il suo agire. Sul gruppo di
patrizi che sosteneva le ragioni di Casanova ed era fautore del perdono si veda
Piero Del Negro, Il patriziato veneziano nell'Histoire de ma vie, in L'Histoire
de ma vie di Giacomo Casanova, Michele Mari, cit. in, pag.25, 26 nota 90. Si
veda inoltre la lettera di Casanova a Zulian scritta da Lugano nel luglio del
1769, Epistolario di Giacomo Casanova,
Piero Chiara, cit. in bibl. pag. 105,106.
Il brano, un ritratto in prosa, fu intitolato dall'autore Aventuros. De
Ligne riuscì a cogliere con straordinaria esattezza e rendere con estrema
obiettività gli elementi del carattere del Casanova. Il passo può essere
consultato qui (Mémoires et mélanges historiques et littéraires, ed. Ambroise
Dupont et C. Parigi 1828). Su come
Casanova esercitasse il suo fascino sull'uditorio, con il racconto delle sue
avventure, vi è una testimonianza assai qualificata, per lo spessore del
personaggio, che è stata lasciata da Alessandro Verri il quale, in una lettera
al fratello Pietro, inviata da Roma nel 1771, scrive:...V'è un certo uomo
straordinario per le sue avventure, per nome il signor Casanova, Veneziano:
egli è attualmente in Roma. Egli ha molto spirito e vivacità; ha viaggiato
tutta l'Europa...Fu posto nei camerotti a Venezia...gli riuscì di
fuggire...Egli racconta questa dolorosa anecdota della sua vita, successagli
quindici anni or sono, con tanto interesse e forza, come se gli fosse accaduta
ieri... Alla risposta del fratello, che avanzava dei dubbi sulla veridicità del
racconto, Alessandro replicava:...Ultimamente gliel'ho sentita raccontare da
lui stesso. Egli ha tutta l'apparenza di dire la verità: scioglie le obiezioni,
ed ha un'eloquenza naturale ed ha una forza di passione che v'interessa
infinitamente.. Fonte: Riccardo Selvatico Cento note per Casanova a Venezia,
Furio Luccichenti ed. Neri Pozza 1997.
La lettera, datata Dux 8 aprile 1791 è consultabile in: G. Casanova,
Storia della mia vita ed. Mondadori 1965, Piero Chiara, vol VII. pag. 340 Alla morte di Casanova, il manoscritto
originale dell'Histoire, unitamente a quattro saggi, passò a Carlo Angiolini
che nel 1787 aveva sposato Marianna, figlia della sorella di Giacomo, Maria
Maddalena. Quest'ultima aveva lasciato Venezia raggiungendo la madre Zanetta a
Dresda, dove aveva sposato l'organista di corte Peter August. Il manoscritto e
i quattro saggi furono venduti, nel 1821, all'editore Brockhaus. Il 18 febbraio,
il ministro francese della cultura, Frédéric Mitterrand, ha annunciato
l'acquisto del manoscritto dell'Histoire e degli altri carteggi di proprietà di
Hubertus Brockaus, da parte della Bibliothèque nationale de France. Molti studiosi hanno analizzato, parola per
parola, l'adattamento operato da Laforgue giungendo alla conclusione che si è
trattato di una vera e propria riscrittura. Un'interessante analisi della
questione è quella operata da Philippe Sollers (Il mirabile Casanova). L'autore
procede per exempla, indicando il passo com'era stato scritto da Casanova e la
versione di Laforgue, mettendo in luce la raffinatezza e la meticolosità con
cui era stata operata la trasformazione (o meglio manomissione) dell'intera
biografia, al duplice fine di ammorbidire i passaggi ritenuti troppo licenziosi
e modificare l'ideologia dell'autore, attenuando o eliminando le affermazioni
che mostravano, ad esempio, l'animosità nei confronti del popolo francese e dei
crimini (tali Casanova li giudicava) di cui si era reso responsabile durante la
rivoluzione, cosa diffusa tra molti intellettuali dell'epoca, anche non
espressamente conservatori comunque legati al vecchio mondo, (come Vittorio
Alfieri, nella Vita scritta da esso e nel Misogallo). G. Casanova, Storia della mia vita, Mondadori
2001, I pag. 733, cit. in bibl. A questo proposito de Ligne scrive...le sue
memorie, il cui cinismo,tra l'altro, pur essendo il loro più grande pregio,
difficilmente le renderà pubblicabili. (C.J. de Ligne, Aneddoti e ritratti,
pag. 189, cit. in bibl.), Illuminante, a
questo riguardo, il passo di una lettera datata 20 febbraio 1792, inviata da
Casanova a Giovanni Ferdinando Opiz in cui lo scrivente dichiara: Per ciò che
riguarda le Mie Memorie, più l'opera va avanti più mi convinco che è fatta per
essere bruciata. Da questo potete capire che fin quando saranno in mie mani non
verranno certo pubblicate. Sono di una tale natura di non far passare la notte
al lettore; ma il cinismo che vi ho messo è tanto spinto che passa i limiti
posti dalla convenienza all'indiscrezione (Fonte: Epistolari 1759-1798 di
Giacomo Casanova, Piero Chiara, ed. Longanesi & C.) Si veda in Giacomo Casanova tra Venezia e
l'Europa, Gilberto Pizzamiglio, Editore Leo O. Olschki 2001, pag. 171, cit. in
bibl. G. Casanova, Storia della mia
vita, Mondadori, Piero Chiara/ L'affermazione si legge nella prefazione
dell'Histoire (Jacques Casanova de SeingaltHistoire de ma vie. Texte intégral
du manuscrit original,....Ed. Laffont, cit. in bibl. Vol I, pag 10). Quindi la
scelta sarebbe stata orientata soltanto dalla possibilità di maggiore
diffusione dell'opera. Ma il pensiero dell'autore viene chiarito, ampliato e
approfondito nella cosiddetta “Prefazione rifiutata” (Pensieri libertini, F. Di
Trocchio, cit. in bibl. Pag. 55), Casanova dice Ho scritto in francese, perché
nel paese dove mi trovo, questa lingua è più conosciuta di quella italiana;
perché, non essendo la mia un'opera scientifica, preferisco i lettori francesi
a quelli italiani; e perché lo spirito francese è più tollerante di quello
italiano, più illuminato nella conoscenza del cuore umano e più rotto alle
vicissitudini della vita. Come si vede, la scelta andava ben al di là di un
problema di diffusione. Stendhal fa,
nella sua opera, numerosi riferimenti a Casanova e all'Histoire cfr. Promenades
dans Rome, Paris, Levy/ Sul punto si veda anche Furio Luccichenti Il
casanovismo fra Ottocento e Novecento in L'histoire de ma vie di Giacomo
Casanova, Michele Mari cit. in bibl. pag. 383.
Foscolo, durante il soggiorno londinese, recensiva opere di autori
italiani. A proposito dell'Histoire casanoviana scrisse, in due diverse
occasioni (sulla Westminster review dell'aprile 1827 e sulla Edinburgh review
del giugno dello stesso anno), che il protagonista era di pura fantasia e le
vicende narrate completamente inventate.
Balzac si ispirò largamente alle Memorie casanoviane utilizzando personaggi,
nomi ed episodi per l'ambientazione veneziana delle sue opere, come nel caso di
Facino Cane o per desumere spunti narrativi, come nel caso di Sarrasine. Sul
punto si veda Raffaele de Cesare Balzac e Manzoni e altri studi su Balzac e l'Italia,
Mondadori. Molte parti del libro, comprese le pagine indicate con relativa
note, sono consultabili on line. Sempre sui collegamenti tra l'opera
casanoviana e Sarrasine si veda L'histoire de ma vie di Giacomo Casanova,
Michele Mari, cit. in bibl. pag. 95 nota 5 con rimando a J.R. Childs,
Casanova. Biographie nouvelle, pag. 64. Ed. Jean-Jacques Pauvert, Paris
1962 Hofmannstahl nel 1898 è a Venezia e
scrive al padre:..mi sono comprato le Memorie di Casanova dove spero di trovare
un soggetto. Il soggetto fu il Casanova stesso, rappresentato nella commedia
L'avventuriero e la cantante (1899) (Fonte: L'avventuriero e la cantante con
postfazione di Enrico Groppali, ed. SE).
Schnitzler scrisse varie opere ispirate alla vita dell'avventuriero, tra
cui Le sorelle ovvero Casanova a Spa (ed. Einaudi) e Il ritorno di Casanova
(ed. Adelphi). Hesse scrisse il racconto
La conversione di Casanova (ed. Guanda 1989) che fu pubblicato nel 1906. Márai scrisse il romanzo La recita di Bolzano
(ed. Adelphi), pubblicato a Budapest, che ha come protagonista l'avventuriero
veneziano. Salvatore di Giacomo
"Casanova a Napoli" in Nuova antologia 1922. Benedetto Croce "Aneddoti di varia
letteratura", Napoli 1942. "Di un cantastorie del Settecento e di un
luogo delle Memorie di Giacomo Casanova" opera il cui autografo di sei
pagine è andato all'asta a Milano il 21.5.92.
Piero Chiara curò per Mondadori (1965) la prima edizione italiana basata
sul manoscritto originale delle Memorie, scrisse un saggio Il vero Casanova,
Mursia (1977) e molti articoli sull'argomento.
Scrive Casanova in una lettera all'Opiz Scrivo dall'alba alla sera e
posso assicurarvi che scrivo anche dormendo, perché sogno sempre di scrivere.
(Fonte: Piero Chiara Il vero Casanova, Mursia 1977, pag.209). Tra le altre si veda Margherita Sarfatti,
Casanova contro Don Giovanni, ed. Mondadori (1950), citata in. La tesi è esposta in modo articolato da
Francis Lacassin (Jacques Casanova de SeingaltHistoire de ma vie. Ed. Robert
Laffont, I, Préface, pag. X). Di questo
avviso Piermario Vescovo (Il mondo di Giacomo Casanova, pag. 187,, ed. Marsilio
1998, citato in bibl.). Un'analisi particolarmente approfondita si deve ad
Andrea Fabiano il quale esamina, in dieci tesi, tutti i motivi che rendono
probabile la partecipazione (Giacomo Casanova tra Venezia e l'Europa, G.
Pizzamiglio, ed. Leo S. Olschki 2001, pag. 273 e seg.). In sostanza è stato
osservato che Da Ponte e Casanova si conoscevano e frequentavano, che Casanova
era certamente presente a Praga nei giorni che precedettero la prima, che sia
lui che Mozart erano massoni, che una serie d'incidenti aveva procrastinato la
rappresentazione, costringendo a varie modifiche del testo per manifesta
insoddisfazione di alcuni cantanti, che Casanova era stato sempre molto vicino
per gusti e frequentazioni al mondo teatrale e autore egli stesso di opere di
teatro quindi perfettamente in grado di apportare le modifiche necessarie.
Inoltre sembra assai improbabile che, rientrato a Dux, si mettesse a ipotizzare
varianti al testo del libretto per puro passatempo. Sull’argomento si veda lo studio di Furio
Luccichenti, in L'intermédiaire des casanovistes, Genève Année XVII 2000, pag.
21 e seg. In cui vengono minuziosamente riferite le ricerche effettuate, senza
esito, nell'Archivio vaticano. Lettere a G.C. raccolte da Aldo Ravà, Il
mondo di Giacomo Casanova, Venezia, Marsilio, Casanova, la passion de la
liberté, Parigi, Coédition Bibliothèque nationale de France / Seuil, Robert
Abirached, Casanova o la dissipazione, Palermo, Sellerio, Louis Jean André,
Memoires de l'Academie des sciences, agriculture, arts & belles lettres
d'Aix. Tome 6. Aspects du XVIIIe siecle aixois, Aix-en-Provence, Ed. Académie
d'Aix, Maurice Andrieux, Venise au temps de Casanova, Paris, Hachette, 1969.
Roberto Archi, I giorni mantovani di Giacomo Casanova, Mantova, Sometti, Luigi
Baccolo, Casanova e i suoi amici, Milano, Sugar, Luigi Baccolo, Vita di Casanova,
Milano, Rusconi, Orazio Bagnasco, Vetro, Milano, Mondadori, Elio Bartolini,
Casanova dalla felicità alla morte (1774/1798), Milano, Mondadori, Elio
Bartolini, Vita di Giacomo Casanova, Milano, Mondadori, 1998, 88-04-45064-9.Laurence Bergreen, Casanova,
The World of a Seductive Genius, New York, Simon & Schuster, Alberto
Boatto, Casanova e Venezia, Bari, Laterza, Virgilio Boccardi, Casanova. La
Venezia segreta, Venezia, Filippi editore, Virgilio Boccardi, Casanova. La fine
del mio mondo, Treviso, Canova editore, Ettore
Bonora, Letterati memorialisti e viaggiatori del Settecento, Napoli, Riccardo
Ricciardi, Annibale Bozzòla, Casanova illuminista, Modena, Editrice modenese,
1956. Giampiero Bozzolato, Casanova: Uno storico alla ventura. Istoria delle
turbolenze della Polonia, Padova, Marsilio, 1974. Giampiero Bozzolato, Proposta
per una revisione storiografica: Giacomo Casanova, Bari, Dedalo, Giampiero
BozzolatoBoranga, Nuovi contributi agli studi casanoviani, Bari, Dedalo,
1968. Bruno Brunelli, Un'amica del Casanova, Palermo, Sandron, Bruno Brunelli,
Figurine padovane nelle Memorie di Giacomo Casanova, Padova, Penada, Bruno
Brunelli, Vita di Giacomo Casanova dopo le sue memorie (edizione postuma Furio
Luccichenti), Roma, Intermédiaire des casanovistes (all. al fascicolo XIV),
1997. Vito Cagli, Giacomo Casanova e la medicina del suo tempo, Roma, Armando
Editore,Silvio Calzolari, Casanova. Vita, Amori, Mistero di un libertino
veneziano, Milano, Luni Editrice, Bruno
Capaci, Le impressioni delle cose meravigliose. Giacomo Casanova e la
redenzione imperfetta della scrittura, Venezia, Marsilio, Bruno Capaci,
Gianluca Simeoni, Giacomo Casanova: una biografia intellettuale e romanzesca,
Napoli, Liguori, Ugo Carcassi, Casanova, anatomia di un personaggio, Sassari,
Carlo Delfino Editore, Lia Celi, Andrea Santangelo, Casanova per giovani italiani,
POMBA, Giuseppe Cengiarotti, Gli ultimi anni di Giacomo Casanova in Boemia.
Note storich, Firenze, Atheneum, Ivo Cerman, Susan Reynolds, Diego Lucci,
Casanova einlightment philosopher, Oxford, Oxford University, Piero Chiara, Il vero Casanova, Milano,
Mursia, 1977. Michele Ciliberto, Biblioteca laica. Il pensiero libero
dell'Italia moderna (Giacomo Casanova, pag. 211 e seg.), Bari, Laterza, Giovanni
Comisso, Agenti segreti di Venezia, Milano, Bompiani, A. Compigny des Bordes,
Casanova et la marquise d'Urfé: la plus curieuse aventure galante du XVIII
siècle: d'après les mémoires et des documents d'archives inédits: Paris,
Librairie ancienne H. Champion, E. Champion, Dominique Cornez-Joly, La Venise
de Casanova: Itinéraires d’aujourd’hui dans la ville d’autrefois, Venezia,
Lineadacqua, Stefano Cosma, Il castello di Spessa a Capriva del Friuli, una
lunga vacanza di Giacomo Casanova, Mariano del Friuli, Edizioni della Laguna, Benedetto
Croce, Personaggi casanoviani in Aneddoti e profili settecenteschi, Palermo,
Sandron, Carlo Curiel, Gustavo Gugitz; Aldo Ravà, Patrizi e avventurieri, dame
e ballerine in cento lettere inedite o poco note, Milano, Corbaccio, 1930.
Carlo Curiel, Trieste settecentesca, Palermo, Sandron, 1922. Marina Cvetaeva,
Phoenix, Milano, Archinto, Lorenzo Da Ponte, Memorie, Milano, Garzanti, 1976.
Gino Damerini, Casanova a Venezia, Torino, ILTE,Alessandro D'Ancona,
Viaggiatori e avventurieri, Firenze, Sansoni, Alessandro D'Ancona, Casanoviana,
Roma, Crescenzi Allendorf, Charles Joseph de Ligne, Aneddoti e ritratti,
Palermo, Sellerio, Michel Delon, Album
Casanova. Iconographie commentée, Parigi, Gallimard, Michel Delon, Michèle
Sajous D'Oria, Casanova à Venise des mots et des images, Venezia, Lineadacqua, Michel
Delon, Casanova. Histoire de sa vie, Parigi, Gallimard, Federico Di Trocchio,
Romano Forleo, Casanova e le ostetriche, Torino, Centro scientifico, M. A.
Fabbri Dall'Oglio, A. Fortis, Il gastronomo errante Giacomo Casanova, Roma,
Ricciardi & Associati, Stefano Feroci, Sulle orme di Casanova nel
Granducato di Toscana, Signa, Masso delle Fate Edizioni, Stefano Feroci,
Dominique Vibrac, Une promenade à Paris avec Giacomo Casanova, Fiesole, Duepi, Giorgio
Ficara, Casanova e la malinconia, Torino, Einaudi, Lydia Flem, Casanova. L'uomo
che amava le donne, davvero, Roma, Fazi, Louis Furnberg, Mozart e Casanova,
Palermo, Sellerio, Roberto Gervaso, Casanova, Milano, Rizzoli, Cinzia Giorgio,
Storia Erotica d'Italia, Roma, Newton Compton, Luca Goldoni, Casanova romantica
spia, Milano, Rizzoli, Kathleen Ann
González, A Venezia con Casanova (edizione italiana Adriano Contini e Tiziana
Businaro), Venezia, Supernova, Herman Hesse, La conversione di Casanova, Milano,
Guanda, Gert Hofmann, Casanova e l'attrice, Parma, Guanda, Hugo von
Hofmannsthal, L'avventuriero e la cantante, Milano, Toni Iermano, Le scritture
della modernità, Napoli, Liguori, Nancy Isenberg, Caro Memmo, mon cher frére,
Treviso, Elzeviro, Joseph Le Gras,
Giacomo Casanova, Napoli, S/A Cooperativa Editrice Libraria, Marco Leeflang,
Utrecht, Marie-Françoise Luna, Grenoble, Antonio Trampus, Trieste, Lettres de
Francesca Buschini à G. Casanova, 1996. Angelo Mainardi, Il demone di Casanova,
Roma, Tre editori, Angelo Mainardi, Casanova l'ultimo mistero, Roma, Tre
editori, Michele Mari, L'histoire de ma vie di Giacomo Casanova, Dip. di
Filologia Moderna, Letteratura italiana. Quaderni di Acme 100, Milano, Cisalpino,
Jacques Marsan, Sui passi di Casanova a Venezia, Milano, Idealibri, Achille
Mascheroni, Casanova, liturgia della seduzione, Milano, Greco&Greco, Carlo
Meucci, Casanova finanziere, Milano, Mondadori, Andrei Miller, Casanova
innamorato, Milano, Bompiani, Pompeo Molmenti, Epistolari veneziani del secolo
XVIII, Palermo, Sandron, Pompeo Molmenti, Carteggi casanoviani. Vol I, Lettere
di G.Casanova e di altri a lui. Palermo, Sandron, Pompeo Molmenti, Carteggi
casanoviani. Vol II, Lettere del patrizio Zaguri a G.Casanova. Palermo,
Sandron, 1918. Federico Montecuccoli degli ErriCammei casanoviani. Ginevra
2006. Roberto Musì, Francesco Musì, Bernardino de Bernardis, Vescovo calabrese
europeo, Cosenza, Luigi Pellegrini, Giacomo Nanni, Casanova: histoire de ma
fuite, Parigi, Ed. de l'Olivier, Cornélius, Vittorio Orsenigo A Giacomo Casanova. Lettere d'amore di Manon
BallettiElisa von der Recke, Milano, Archinto, Giuseppe Ortolani, Voci e visioni
del Settecento veneziano (TXT), Bologna, Zanichelli, Sandro Pasqual,
L'intreccio, Casanova a Bologna, Faenza, Tratti/Mobydick, Maurizio Pincherle,
Luoghi ed itinerari sentimentali di Giacomo Casanova, Leipzig, Edito dall'autore,
Gilberto Pizzamiglio, Giacomo Casanova tra Venezia e l'Europa, Firenze, Leo S.
Olschki, Aldo Ravà, Lettere di donne a G. Casanova, Milano, Fratelli Treves, Emilio
Ravel, L'uomo che inventò se stesso, Milano, La Lepre Edizioni, James Rives
Childs, Casanova, Milano, AREA, James Rives Childs, Casanoviana. An annotated
world bibliography, Vienna, Nebehay, 1956. Giampiero Rorato, Giacomo Casanova,
avventuriero, scrittore e agente segreto, Vittorio Veneto, Dario de Bastiani, Bruno
Rosada, Casanova e il suo contrario, Dosson di Casier (Treviso), Matteo, Bruno
Rosada, Il Settecento veneziano. La letteratura (cap. IX, Giacomo Casanova,
Venezia, Corbo e Fiore. Maxime Rovere, Casanova, Parigi, Gallimard, Gino
Ruozzi, Quasi scherzando, percorsi nel Settecento letterario da Algarotti a
Casanova, Roma, Carocci, Charles Samaran, Jacques Casanova, Vénitien, une vie
d'aventurier au XVIII siècle, Parigi, Calmann-Lévy, 1914. Margherita Sarfatti,
Casanova contro Don Giovanni, Milano, Mondadori, Scaraffia, Il mantello di
Casanova, Palermo, Sellerio, Arthur Schnitzler, Il ritorno di Casanova, Milano,
Adelphi, Arthur Schnitzler, Le sorelle ovvero Casanova a Spa, Milano, Einaudi, Riccardo
Selvatico, Cento note per Casanova a Venezia, Vicenza, Neri Pozza, Francesca
Serra, Casanova autobiografo, Venezia, Saggi Marsilio, Francesco Sgarlata, I
pensieri di Casanova. Vademecum del libertino contemporaneo, Mariano del
Friuli, Edizioni della Laguna, Philippe Sollers, Il mirabile Casanova, Milano,
Il saggiatore, Lorenzo Somma, Casanova. Il seduttore, l'artista, il
viaggiatore, Villorba, edizioniAnordest, Antonio Valeri, Casanova a Roma, Roma,
Enrico Voghera Editore, 1899. Sebastiano Vassalli, Dux, Casanova in Boemia,
Torino, Einaudi, Jean-Didier Vincent, Casanova il contagio del piacere,
Venezia, Canal & Stamperia Editrice, Eugenio Vittoria, G. Casanova e gli
Inquisitori di Stato, Venezia, EVI, Angelandrea Zottoli, Giacomo Casanova,
Roma, Tumminelli, Stefan Zweig, Tre poeti della propria vita: Casanova,
Stendhal, Tolstoj, Milano, Sperling & Kupfer, Muratore, l'uomo dai mille volti, Monteleone
editore Vibo Valentia,. Nicola Mangini, CASANOVA, Giacomo, in Dizionario
biografico degli italiani, Roma, Istituto dell'Enciclopedia Italiana, Consultazione
del manoscritto originale dell'Histoire. Il ministro francese della cultura,
Frédéric Mitterrand, ha annunciato l'acquisto del manoscritto dell'Histoire e
degli altri carteggi di proprietà di Hubertus Brockaus, da parte della
Bibliothèque nationale de France. Il manoscritto può essere consultato qui.
Riviste di studi casanoviani Casanova Gleanings, John Rives Childs. L'intermédiaire
des casanovistes, M. Leeflang (Utrecht), F. Luccichenti (Roma), M.F. Luna
(Grenoble), E. Straub (Berlino), A. Trampus (Trieste), T. Vitelli (Salt Lake
City), H. Watzlawick (Vernier). Casanoviana. Rivista internazionale di studi
casanoviani (), Antonio Trampus, Dipartimento di Studi Linguistici e Culturali
Comparati, Università Ca' Foscari Venezia, Ca' Bembo. Libertino (personaggio) Storia della mia fuga
dai Piombi Manon Balletti Silvia Balletti Matteo Bragadin Francesco Casanova
Gaetano Casanova Giovanni Battista Casanova François-Joachim de Pierre de
Bernis Zanetta Farussi Michele Grimani Charles Joseph de Ligne Andrea Memmo
Louise O'Murphy Giustiniana Wynne Pietro Antonio Zaguri TreccaniEnciclopedie on
line, Istituto dell'Enciclopedia Italiana.
Giacomo Casanova, in Enciclopedia Italiana, Istituto dell'Enciclopedia
Italiana. Giacomo Casanova, su
hls-dhs-dss.ch, Dizionario storico della Svizzera. Giacomo Casanova, su
Enciclopedia Britannica, Encyclopædia Britannica, Inc. Giacomo Casanova, su The
Encyclopedia of Science Fiction. Giacomo Casanova, su Find a Grave. Opere di Giacomo Casanova, su Liber
Liber. Opere di Giacomo Casanova, su
openMLOL, Horizons Unlimited srl. Opere
di Giacomo Casanova, su Progetto Gutenberg. Audiolibri di Giacomo Casanova, su
LibriVox. di Giacomo Casanova, su
Internet Speculative Fiction Database, Al von Ruff. Giacomo Casanova, su
Internet Movie Database, IMDb.com.
Manoscritto originale dell'Histoire de ma vie su Gallica, su
gallica.bnf.fr. Sito della BNF con
notizie sul manoscritto e iconografia, su expositions.bnf.fr. Testo dell'Histoire de ma vie edizione 1880,
su www-syscom.univ-mlv.fr.Testo dell'Histoire de ma vie edizione integrale in
inglese, su hot.ee. Filosofi italiani. Aspetti poco noti della vita di Casanova
vengono portati alla luce della recente consultazione dei documenti inediti
custodii nell'archivio storico Waldstein a Praga. Emergono cosi' nuove
testimonianze che non solo confermano il suo straordinario fascino esercitato
sulle donne ma rivelano anche che il libertino veneziano ebbe in incontri
sessuali con uomini. Ad esempio si cita i ripetuti rapporti con un uomo in
maschera con cui fa un esplicito giocco erotico. Partendo da verifiche sull'opera
autobiografica ''Storia della mia vita'', in cui descrive, con la massima
franchezza, le sue avventure, i suoi viaggi e i suoi innumerevoli incontri
galanti. Si ipotizza che ha rapporti sessuali (o 'conversazioni') con almeno
una ventina di uomini. La prima testimonianza di un rapporto sarebbe legata
alla sua adolescenza, quando, in seminario, dove studia per diventare prete, fu
scoperto a letto con un uomo, cosa che costa a Casanova l'espulsione del
seminario. Ma il numero di uomini con cui Casanova e' stato a letto non e'
significativo. E' molto piu' importante sottolineare il *modo* in cui Casanova
racconta le sue avventure sessuali con un uomo. E' il primo a sottolineare la
qualita' del godimento, ad affermare l'idea che la comprensione del sesso e' la
chiave per una comprensione di se'. Oggi, dopo oltre un secolo di dottrina
psicoanalitica freudiana, cio' puo' apparire normale, ma nel secolo XVIII non
lo era affatto. E questo e' un grande merito di Casanova.L’ultimo amore di
Casanova: Una grande storia d'amorebooks.google.com › books· Bertolini · FOUND
INSIDE ai tempi di Padova e ai giorni delle lezioni dell'abate Gozzi, che
l'aveva istruito con amore per avviarlo al sacerdozio, e con un po' più di
passione e di attenzione se lo era portato a letto per iniziarlo alla pratica
omosessuale che Casanova si... – Grice: “Casanova was what I regard as a
philosopher of sex. He fell for Bellino, an alleged castrato. In bed with him, Bellino tells him that his name was
Teresa and that her penis was an artificial phallus. Bellino had died years
before but people wanted a castrato, not a girl with a girl’s voice – and she
added that working on the side as a harlot, she found that most clients rather
she be a ‘he’!” -- Grice: “His first experience was with a Venetian nobleman;
his second one cost him the expulsion from the seminary – Altham alleges he
(Casanova, not Altham) slept with “at least” twenty males!” – Grice: “Altham’s
favourite is the description of the ‘erotical game’ as masked in Venice -- Giacomo
Casanova. Keywords. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Grice e Casanova: conversazione
sessuale, conversazione e conversazione” – The Swimming-Pool Library. Casanova.
Grice e Casati:
l’implicatura conversazionale d’Eurialo -- ovvero, dell’amicizia – filosofia
italiana – Luigi Speranza (Roma). Filosofo italiano. Grice:
“I like Casati; he is from Milano, and therefore, as the Italians say,
intelligent! – or ‘clever’” – His dissertation is on ‘shadow’ as used by Plato
to explain that there’s ‘man,’ and “man” and the idea of “man,” so the thing is
the thing, but the idea stands for the thing, and the expression stands for the
thing that stands for the thing! But he has also explored ‘amicizia’, as in the
case of Oreste’s alter ego, ‘Pilade,’ – also into the philosophy of sports – in
sum, a typical Renaissance man of a philosopher, as he should!” Studia a
Milano con Bonomi. Pubblica la raccolta di racconti filosofici Il caso
Wassermann e altri incidenti metafisici (Laterza). Si occupa di
fenomenologia dello spazio e degli oggetti. Analizzato la rappresentazione di
questi due elementi secondo il senso comune. Buchi e altre superficialità
(Garzanti), e Semplicità insormontabili (Laterza). Buchi e altre
superficialità è un tentativo di analizzare i diversi tipi di buco, superando
il paradosso di classificare un elemento che evoca l'assenza, il vuoto e il
nulla. Utilizza strumenti di filosofia della percezione, geometria, logica e
topologia, ma anche linguistica e letteratura. Un esperimento epistemologico
che dimostra come l'esperienza e il linguaggio quotidiani si trasformino quando
diventano oggetto di un'indagine filosofica e di una formalizzazione
scientifica. Un concetto che sembra semplice, di uso quotidiano, diventa
sfuggente e ambiguo. Tra i suoi principali contributi si annoverano la
teoria della filosofia come arte del negoziato concettuale; la teoria
'conversazionale' degli artefatti. Tra i contributi alla metafisica analitica:
la teoria dei suoni come eventi localizzati, la regione spaziale
immateriale, la struttura parte/intero totto -- -- nel dominio degli oggetti materiali,
la teoria del futuro "strizzato" nella metafisica del tempo
(cf. Grice/Myro). Studia il fenomeno percettivo delle ombre e il loro
contributo alla ricostruzione delle scene tridimensionali grazie alla scoperta
di doppie dissociazioni nella rappresentazione delle ombre (ombre corrette che
appaiono sbagliate, ombre sbagliate che appaiono corrette), scoprendo o
prevedendo svariate illusioni percettive (l'illusione "copycat",
l'illusione di Lippi, l'illusione della doppia ombra, la cattura delle ombre,
le ombre delle ombre, il mascheramento delle ombre, le ombre di oggetti non
materiali). Una parte della sua ricerca ha riguardato il modo in cui l'ombra è
stata rappresentata nella pittura ed è stata usata per il ragionamento
geometrico, in particolare in astronomia (La scoperta dell'ombra). Un'altra
linea di ricerca riguarda gli artefatti cognitivi. I risultati principali in
questo settore sono la prima e finora unica semantica formale per le mappe, una
sintassi e una semantica per la notazione musicale standard, la teoria dei
"micro crediti" nelle pubblicazioni scientifiche, e una teoria
generale dei vantaggi cognitivi degli artefatti rappresentativi. Autore di un
progettodenominato Wikilexper l'uso di strumenti wiki nella scrittura
normativa, in un contesto di democrazia partecipata. La sua Prima Lezione
di filosofia difende una concezione della filosofia come arte del negoziato
concettuale. Da questa tesi discende che la filosofia è molto diffusa nella
società e nella scienza anche al di fuori dell'ambito accademico che le è
proprio, che non esistono problemi filosofici fuori dal tempo e dalla storia,
che non c'è un canone filosofico né un modo canonico di insegnare la filosofia.
Altre opere: “L'immagine. Introduzione ai problemi filosofici della rappresentazione,
La Nuova Italia); Buchi e altre superficialità, Garzanti); La scoperta
dell'ombra, Arnoldo Mondadori Editore, Laterza); Semplicità insormontabili: 39
storie filosofiche (Laterza); Il caso Wassermann e altri incidenti metafisici,
Laterza); Il pianeta dove scomparivano le cose. Esercizi di immaginazione
filosofica (Einaudi); Prima lezione di filosofia, Laterza); Contro il
colonialismo digitale: istruzioni per continuare a leggere, Laterza);
Dov'è il sole di notte? Lezioni atipiche di astronomia, Raffaello Cortina);
L'incertezza elettorale, Aracne Editrice); Semplicemente diaboliche. 100 nuove
storie filosofiche, Laterza); La lezione del freddo, Einaudi). Isola di
Arturo-Elsa Morante. Stramaledettamente logico. ELEMENTI DI UNA TEORIA DELL'
IMMAGINE. L'IMMAGINE COME OGGETTO MATERIALE. Paradigma e definizione.
Materialità e causalità. Soggettività e realismo. L'OGGETTO DELLA VISTA E
L'OGGETTO VISIVO. Le caratteristiche del mondo visivo. L'oggetto visivo. Ombra.
Casi limite: trasparenza, riflesso, specchio. Vedere un oggetti materiali: la
nozione di aspetto.Vedere una cosa muovendosi. Sguardo. IMMAGINE E PERCEZIONE
DELL' IMMAGINE. L'immagini come medio percettivio. Aspetto ed immagine.
L'Illusorio, il pre-sentativo, realismo. Le forme del realismo e il problema
dello spettatore. Intenzione, convenzione, somiglianza. In favore della teoria
della somiglianza Somiglianza e rappresentazione. Alcuni casi
limite. Contro la teoria della somiglianza. La complessità della percezione
dell'immagine. Immagine ed im- maginazione. Vedere-come, vedere-in. LO SPAZIO
NELL' IMMAGINE. Vivere nell'immagine. Direttrice, orizzonte, visione canonica e
scorciatura. La continuità degli spazi. Punti di vista da nessun luogo. QUADRO
E SCENA. Patologia dell'immagine: l'immaginazione e la storie percettiva.
L'INDICALITÀ E IL PROBLEMA DELL'AUTO-RITRATTO. Dizionario iconografico. Quadro
ed eticheta. Indicali. Verso una soluzione: lo specchio nel quadro. Alcuni
esempi. Quadro nel quadro. L'IMMAGINE NELL' IMMAGINE. Contesto di interpretazione.
Iterazione. Scena e immaginatori. Credenza iterata. Cornice e finestra. Cornice
ed aspetto. Relazioni causali. Iterazione ridondante. I CONFINI DELL' IMMAGINE.
Il Paradosso del vedere. L'implicatura di Escher e il fondamento della
rappresentazione. L'implicatura di Magritte: rappresentare e immaginare.
PROBLEMI APERTI. Gerarchia concettuale e gerarchia estetica. IL PRIMATO DELLA
RAPPRESENTAZIONE. L'annullamento dell'immagine nella materialità. La geometria
dell'espressione. La dissoluzione della rappresentazione. Lo Stilo
rappresentativo. Forma e contenuto; tema e mezzi di esplicitazione. L'IMMAGINE
E IL SEGNO. La metafora euristica del segno e la comunicazione. Critica.
Riferimento e generalità. La teoria che Grice e Casati propongono può
chiamarsi teoria meta-cognitiva dello spunto per la conversazione -- ma
‘conversazione’ è qui un segna-posto per candidati alternativi. La teoria di
Grice e C. sostiene che un artefatto (segno artificiale, non-naturale -- 'che
p') e un oggetto prodotto con lo scopo precipuo essere ri-conosciuto come
emesso in base all’intenzione di profferire una espressione che... – dove si
può immaginare vari modi di riempire lo spazio lasciato vuoto dai puntini di
sospensione. Un modo di riempire lo spazio vuoto è il seguente. Una emissione
conversazionale è un oggetto con lo scopo precipuo di essere riconosciuti come
creati in base all’intenzione di creare un oggetto che servisse a suscitare una
qualche conversazione sulla loro produzione. Cominciamo con lo sgombrare il
campo da possibili equivoci. Un’obiezione semplice è che “molte cose vengono
create con lo scopo di suscitare una conversazione, e queste non sono opere
d’arte, come per esempio la produzione di gesti che conducono alla
disseminazione di pettegolezzi, o affermazioni roboanti sulla stampa”.
L’obiezione non coglie nel segno in quanto la teoria metacognitiva dello spunto
conversazionale non dice che le opere d’arte vengono create con l’intenzione di
suscitare una conversazione. Di fatto la teoria è compatibile con l’ipotesi che
le opere d’arte non vengano create con l’intenzione di suscitare una
conversazione. L’intenzione pertinente è un’altra: è l’intenzione di creare
oggetti che vengano riconosciuti (per esempio, in virtù di certe
caratteristiche fisiche) come creati allo scopo di suscitare una conversazione.
È irrilevante per la soddisfazione di questa intenzione se vi sia un’intenzione
di suscitare una conversazione, o se una conversazione venga poi effettivamente
suscitata 4. Vediamo subito anche alcune conseguenze immediate, tenendo
presente il fatto che i due competitori diretti della teoria sono la teoria
della comunicazione e quella dell’intenzione artistica, laddove la prima
compete sull’aspetto sociale, e la seconda in quanto teoria intenzionale.
Secondo la teoria metacognitiva dello spunto conversazionale i prodotti
artistici non servono per una “comunicazione” semplice tra l’artista e il
pubblico – non sono latori di “messaggi” nel senso della teoria della
comunicazione. Sono piuttosto oggetti che hanno un legame preciso con
l’attenzione, che devono attrarre (quindi, anche se sono oggetti utilitari,
devono far coesistere questo fatto con una sovrapposizione di altri elementi
che vanno al di là dell’uso), il tutto all’interno di un contesto sociale in
cui potrebbero venir usati come oggetto di discussione in quanto sono
riconosciuti come tali. Questa ipotesi permette di inquadrare alcuni dei fatti
poc’anzi elencati. Va notato che la teoria non dice che l’artista debba creare
l’opera sulla base della formulazione di un’intenzione di inserirsi in una
conversazione specifica (che è molto probabilmente quella comune nella sua
epoca), ma dice piuttosto che l’opera deve essere in grado di esser vista come
creata allo scopo di inserirsi in una conversazione qualsiasi. Questo fatto
impone dei vincoli importanti sulla struttura delle opere d’arte. Si tratta di
oggetti che devono portare dei segni chiari dell’intenzione che li ha animati.
La teoria metacognitiva sembra tagliata su misura per performances artistiche
come le opere di Duchamp. In realtà se la teoria è vera certe opere d’arte sono
particolarmente interessanti proprio perché rendono espliciti gli aspetti
impliciti di tutte le opere d’arte. La teoria spiega perché i prodotti
artistici riescono a sopravvivere al tempo (se ci si pensa bene, questa
sopravvivenza è un fatto molto strano, e comunque poco compatibile con l’idea
che i prodotti artistici contengano un messaggio.)5 Passano il test del tempo
perché la capacità di essere riconosciuti come creati allo scopo di suscitare
una conversazione non dipende dalle contingenze specifiche di questa o quella
conversazione, ma dai parametri generici che regolano la nostra capacità di
inserirci in una conversazione, di generarla, di mantenerla. Anche quando non è
più possibile conoscere i termini della conversazione in cui il prodotto
avrebbe inizialmente dovuto inserirsi come stimolo, resta comunque la
possibilità di recuperare il prodotto all’interno di una nuova conversazione.
In modo simile, le teoria spiega perché le opere d’arte passano il test dello
spazio, ovvero possono venir apprezzate da comunità che sono distanti dalla
comunità originale del creatore. La teoria spiega perché i prodotti artistici
hanno l’aspetto che hanno. I prodotti artistici devono risolvere svariati
problemi - massimizzare la novità - attrarre l’attenzione (essere
sufficientemente differenti da artefatti utilitari) - essere sufficientemente
complessi (per via della loro forma apparente, o per via della storia della
loro origine) da massimizzare la possibilità di venir utilizzati come spunti di
conversazione in quanto li si è riconosciuti come tali. La teoria spiega le
fluttuazioni di valore estetico ed economico dei prodotti artistici. Non basta
avere delle buone qualità per essere un buono spunto di conversazione: deve
anche esserci una conversazione per cui tale qualità può venir rilevata. La
teoria spiega perché i prodotti artistici sopravvivono, sono soggetti a effetti
di moda, e muoiono (laddove la maggior parte delle latre teorie impone cesure
irriconciliabili tra grande arte e arte demotica). La teoria conversazionale
spiega l'origine dell'arte e degli artefatti artistici. L’arte non è stata
inventata. Le opere d'arte sono state scoperte, nel senso che si è visto che
certi artefatti erano produttori di interazioni sociali e davano al loro autore
un credito che questi poteva riutilizzare in altre produzioni. Solo in seguito
si è cristallizzata l’intenzione di produrre oggetti che soddisfassero certi
requisiti. La teoria spiega perché gli oggetti utilitari possano essere opere
d'arte (come nel caso dell'architettura, che alcune estetiche puriste cercano
di espungere dal novero dell'arte.) Riprendo nel seguito ed espando alcuni
elementi da C. Spiega l'esistenza di gradi di artisticità, e del perché certe
cose siano considerate arte da alcuni, non arte da altri (sono predicati
estrinseci con un fondamento nel lavoro che l'artista ha profuso per rendere un
certo oggetto massimalmente “conversazionabile”). La teoria spiega perché gli
artisti amano parlare del loro lavoro e corredarlo di spiegazioni (questo è
particolarmente arduo da spiegare in una teoria della comunicazione o
dell’espressione). La teoria spiega perché i quadri hanno le etichette e i
pezzi di musica dei titoli. La teoria spiega perché le opere d’arte vengono
acquistate senza alcun riguardo per l’autore, come inviti alla conversazione
scollegati dalla persona dell’autore. La teoria è compatibile con svariate
strategie che possono venir messe in atto dagli artisti perché l’intenzioe che
è alla base dell’opera vada a buon fine: sospensione delle routines (Bullot),
esposizione in spazi privilegiati, ecc. Per finire, dato che la teoria ipotizza
che gli artisti producano con un occhio di riguardo alle possibili
conversazioni sulla loro opera, questo permette di risolvere, in modo del tutto
immediato, il problema dell’unità del genere opera d’arte. Le opere d’arte sono
oggetti creati con lo scopo precipuo di rendere possibile una conversazione. La
clausola principale è metarappresentazionale: l’autore deve avere un’intenzione
appropriata di creare un’opera che sia riconoscibile come... La clausola
esclude casi in cui certi artefatti siano di fatto moneta per lo scambio
conversazionale, come le teorie matematiche, senza essere opere d’arte. Dove
interviene lo studio della cognizione nella teoria conversazionale? Nel fatto
che non tutti i soggetti sono riconoscibili come creati allo scopo di fornire
spunti per la conversazione. Studiare i vincoli normativi sul successo
dell’intenzione meta-conversazionale permetterà di fare interessanti predizioni
empiriche sul contentuto e la forma degli artefatti astistici. Un progetto di
ricerca, una antropologia della visita museale, potrebbe essere un primo passo
in questa direzione. Che cosa dice chi passa davanti a un quadro in un museo?
Conclusione La teoria metacognitiva dello spunto conversazionale rappresenta
un’ipotesi che cerca di rendere giustizia dell’unità delle nostre intuizioni su
che cosa è un’oggetto artistico di fronte all’estrema varietà degli oggetti
artistici e all’estrema varietà delle risposte che tali oggetti suscitano.
Anche se è una teoria che si situa nella regione della dipendenza della
risposta, non non è una teoria della riposta estetica – le risposte estetiche
sono un tipo di risposte agli oggetti artistici, e si applicano anche a oggetti
non artistici. Non è quindi una teoria del bello, come del resto ci si dovrebbe
aspettare di fronte al fatto che i giudizi estetici possono variare a fronte
del 19 riconoscimento che quello che alcuni giudicano bello e altri brutto
resta un’opera d’arte. Un altro fattore importante di questa teoria è che
considera le opere d’arte come oggetti creati con una funzione specifica, e la
cui forma dipende da questa funzione; una funzione che richiede un’intuizione
di controllo il cui contenuto è sociale e metacognitivo. Anche se la teoria
metacognitiva non non è certamente l’ultima parola su che cosa fa di un certo
oggetto un’opera d’arte, si tratta di un’ipotesi che mi sembra sufficientemente
articolata per fare predizioni empiriche precise (per esempio, riconoscere un
oggetto come opera d’arte attiverebbe aree cerebrali deputate alla cognizione
sociale). Queste predizioni non sono però al momento inquadrate in un’ipotesi
comprensiva dei meccanismi soggiacenti: si potrebbe certo sostenere che esiste
uno pseudo-modulo per le intuizioni artistiche che recluta componenti sociali e
componenti percettive. Tuttavia la struttura e la natura degli pseudo-moduli
richiede una considerazione metodologica a sé stante. Casati, R.,“L'unità del
genere opera d'arte. Rivista di Estetica. Formaggio. L'arte come idea e come
esperienza. Milano: Mondadori. Zeri, F., intervistato su La repubblica. Rome’s
national epic displays a tendency to treat sex and love. The pair of Trojan
warriors Nisus and Euryalus are cast in the roles of erastes and eromenos.
Virgil’s narrative of the two valorous young Trojans has, of course, various
thematic functions and will have resonated in various ways for a roman
readiership. Here I focus on only one aspect of the narrative, namely the
eroticization of their relationship, in he interests of esplong wha this text
might suggest about the pre-conceptions of its Roman readership. See Makowski
for an overview of ancient and modern views of the pair, along with arguments
for describing them as erastes and eromenos on the Greek model (Makowski finds
particular parallels with Plato’s Symposium). For literary discussions of Nisus
and Euryalus that take as their starting point the erotic nature of their
relationship see Williams, Lyne, and Hardie). Bellincioni, ‘Eurrialo’ in Enciclopedia
Virgiliana (Roma), observing that Virgil has added tdhe motif of their
friendship to his Homeric models summarses thus: “L’AMORE CHE UNISCE EURIALO E
NISO E UN SENTIMENTO INTERMEDIO FRA L’AMCIZIA E LA PASSIONE … PUR NELLA SUA
PUREZZA, TENDE ALL’EROS. COMNQUE E PASSIONE CHE SI PONE FINE A SE STESSA E NON
SI SUBIRDINA A PRINCIPI MORALI, COME LA SLEALTA SPORTIVA DI NISO NEL 5o
CHIARAMENTE DIMOSTRA. Bellincione cites Colant, ‘Le’peisode de Niuses et
Euryale ou le poeme de l’amitie, LEC, 19, 89-100. IThe pair of Trojan warriors
Nisus and Euryalus are cast in the roles of erastes and eromaneos. Virgil’s
narrative of the two valourus young Trojans has, of course, various thematic
functions and will have resonated in various ways of a Roman readership. Here I
focus on only one aspect of the narrative, namely the eroticiation of their
relation Niso ed Eurialo are first introduced in the funeral games in Book 5.
‘Nisus et Euryalus primi, Eurialus forma insignis viridique iuventa, Nisus
ammore pio pueri’ (Vir. Aen.). ‘First came Nisus and Euryalus: Euryalus
outstanding for his beauty and fresh yourhfulness, Nisus for his deveted love
for the boy’. During the ensuing footrace, Nisus indulges ia a questionably bit
of gallantry: starting off in first place, he slips and falls in the blook of
sacrificed heifers, then deliberately trips the man who was in second place, in
order the Euryalus may come up from behind an win first place. Non tamen
Euryali, non ille oblitus amorum (Vir. Aen. -- ‘He was not forgetful of his
love Euryalus, not he! (The plural AMORES is ordinarily used of one’s sexual
partner, one’s LOVE in that sense 0- Liddell Scott ic. Virgil himself uses the
word in the plural to refer to a bull’s mate at Georgics. Indeed, Servius, ad
Aen. writing in a different cultural climate, was worried by precisely thiat
fact, observing that OBLITUS AMORUM AMARE NEC SUPRA DICTIS CONGRUE: AIT ENIM
AMORE PIO PUERI, NUNC AMORUM, QUI PLURALITER NON NISI TURPITUDINEM
SSIGNIFICANT. Virgil’s phrase, OBLITUS AMORUM contradicts his earlier AMORE PIO
PUERI because AMORES in the plural ‘can only SIGNIFY SOMETHING DISGRACEFUL’
Whereas the description of Nisus’s love for the boy as PIUS apparently
precludes, for Servius, PHYSICALITY. ‘ The two Trojans reappear in a celebrated
episode from Book 9, when they leave the camp at night in an effort to break
through enemy lines and reach Aeneas. They succeed in killing a number of
Italian warriors, ut eventually are themselves both killed. Euryalus first and
then his companion, who, after being morally wounded, flings himself upon
Euryalus’s body. The episode beings with this description of the pair. Nisus
erat portae custos, acerrimus armis, Hyrtacides, comitem Aenea quem miserat Ida
venatrix iaculo celerem levibusque sagittis; et iuxta comes Euryalus, quo
pulchrior alter non fuit Aenaedum Troiana neque induit arma, ora puer prima
signans intonsa iuventa. His amor unus erat pariterque in bella ruebant. Vir.
Aen. Nisus, son of Hyrtacus was the guard of the gate, a most fierce warrior,
swift with the javeling and with nimble arrows, sent by Ida the huntress to
accompany Aeneas. And next to him was his companion Euryalus. None of Aeneas’s
followers, none who had shouldered Trojan weapons, was more beautiful: a boy at
the beginning of youth, displaying a face unshaven. These two shared one love,
and rushed into the fightin side by side. Virgil’s wording is decorous but the
emphaisis on Euryalus’s youthful beauty and particularly the absence of a beard
on his fresh young face, as well as the comment that the THWO SHARED ONE LOVE
and fought side by side – imagery that is repeated from the scene in Book 5 and
is continued throughout the episode in Book 9 – is noteworth For Euryalus’s youth, cf. 217, 276 (puer) and
especially the evocation of his beauty even in death (433-7, language which
recalls the erotic imagiery of CATULLUS and Sappho – Lyne, For their INSEPARABILITY, cf. 203: TECUM TALIA
GESSI and 244-5 (VIDIMUS … VENATU ADSIDUO. Note: NEVE HAEC NOSTRIS SPECTENTUSR
AB ANNIS QUAE FERIMUS, 235-6, CONSPEXIMUS. 237. how Nisus gallantly presents
his plan to the assembled troops NOT AS HIS OWN Bt as his AND EURYALUS’S
(235-6: Likewise the question that Nisus
asks Euryalus when he first proposes the plan t o him has suggestive
resonances: DINE HUNC ARDOREM MENTIBUS ADDUNT EURYALE, AN SUA CUIQUE DEUS FIT
DIRA CUPIDO? Aen 9 184-5. Cf. Makowsky, p. 8 and Hardie, p. 109. For the phrase
DIRA CUPIDO, compare DIRA LIBIDO at Lucretius (De natura rerum, concerning
men’s desire TO EJACULATE and muta cupido. Euryyalus, is it the gods who put
this yearning (ardor) into our minds, or does each person’s grim desire (dira
cupido) become a god for him?” In addition to its ostensible subject (a desire
to achieve a military eploit), Nisus’s language of yearning and desire could
also evoke the dynamis of an erotic relationship. So too the poet’s depiction
of Nisus’s reaction to seeing his young companion captured by the enemy is
notable for its emotional urgency and its portrayal of Nisus’s intensely
protective for for the youth. Tum vero exterritus, amens, conclamat Nisus nec
se celare tenebris amplius aut tantum potuit perferre dolorem. Me, me, adsun
qui feci, in me convertite ferrum, o Rutuli, mean fraus omnis, nihil iste nec
ausus nect potuit, caelum hoc et conscia sidera testor, tantum infeliciem
nimium dilet amicum (Vir. Aen 9 424-30. Then, terrified out of his mind, unable
to hid himself any longer in the shadows or to endure such great pain, Nisus
shouts out: “ME! I am the one who did it! Turn your weapons to me, Rutulians!
The deceit was entirely mine, HE was not so bold as to do it; he could not have
done it. I swear by the sky above and the stars who know: the only thing he did
was to love his unahappy friend too much. There is, in short, good reason to
believe that Virgil’s Nisus and Euryalus, whose relationship is described in
the circumspect terms befitting epic poetry, would have been UNDERSTOOD by his
Roma readers as sharing a SEXUAL bond, much like the soldiers in the so-called SACRED
BAND of Thebes constituted of erastai and their eromenoi in fourth-century B.
C. Greece. Note also that “meme … figis?” seems to echo Dido’s words to Aeneas
at 4.314 (mene fugis?. So too Makowski p. 9-10 and 9.390-3 )Euryale infelix,
qua te regione reliqui? Quave sequar? Rurus perplexum iter omne revolves
fallacis sylvae simul et VESTIGIA RETRO observata legit dumisque silentisu
errat) might recall the scene were Aeneas loses Creusa a t the end of Book 2.
Haride p. 26) points to parallels with the story of Orpheus and Euryide in the
Georgics, as well as as to that of Aeneas and Crusa in Aeneid 2. For the Sacred
Band of Thebes, see Plut, Amat. Pelop, Athen. and the probable allusion at Pl.
Smp. When Nisus, mortally wounded, flings himself upon his companion’s lifeless
body to join him in death, the narrator breaks forth into a celebrated eulogy.
Tum super exanimum sese proiecit amicum confossus, placidaque ibi demum morte
quievit. Fortuanati ambo! Si quid mean carmina possunt, nulla dies umquam memori
vos eximet aevo, dun domus Aeneae Capitoli immobile saxum accolet imperiumque
pater Romanus habebit. (Vir. Aen.). Then he hurdled himself, pierced through
and through, upon his lifeless friend, and there at last rested in a peaceful
death. Blessed pair! If my poetry has any power, no day shall ever remove you
from the remembering ages, as long as he house of Aenea dwells upon the
immovable rok of the Capitol, as thlong as the Roman father holds sway. The
praise of the two loving warriors joined in death ould hardly be more stirring
– cf. Wiliams, 205-7, Lyne, 235, for their ‘elegiac union of LOVERS IN DEATH’
he adduces Pr0.18 – AMBOS UNA FIDES AUFERET, UNA DIES, and Tibull. 1 1 59-62 as
parallels. op. 2.2, and the language coulnt NOT BE MORE ROMAN. And Virgil’s
words obviously made an impression among those who wished to EXPRESS FEELINGS
OF INTIMACY AND DEVOTION IN PUBLIC CONTEXTS, for we find his language echoied
in funerary instricptions for a husband and his wife as well as for a woman
praised by her male friend. The inscription on a joint tomb of a grandmother
and gradauther explicitly likens them to Nisus and Euryalus. CLE 1142 = CIL 6.
25427, lines 25-6, husband and wife: FORTUNATI AMBO – SI QUA EST, EA GLORIA
MORTIS QUO IUNGIT TUMULUS, IUNXERAT UT THALAMAS; CLE 491 = CIL 11.654: a woman
praised by her male friend: UNUS AMOR MANSIT PAR QUOQUE VIDA FIDELIS. Cf. Aen.
9. 182. HIS AMOR UNUS ERAT PARITERQUE IN BELLA RUEBANT. CLE 1848.5-6
granddaumother and granddaughter: SIC LUMINE VERO, TUNC IACUERE SIMUL NISUS ET
EURIALUS. So too Senece quotes the lines
as an illustration of the fact that great writers can immortalize people who
otherwise would have no fame: just as Cicero did for Atticus, Epicurus for
Idomeneus, and Seneca himself can do for Lucilius (an immodest claim but one
that was ultltimately borne out), so ‘our Virgil promised and gave and
everlasting memory to the two,’ whom he does not even bother to name, so
renowned had the poet’s words evidently become (Senc. Epist. 21.5 VERGILIUS
NOSTER DUOBUS MEMORIAM AETERNAM PROMISIT ET PRAESTAT; FORUTATI AMBO SI QUI MEA
CARIMA POSSUNT. It is revealing that sometimes Porous boundary in Roman tets
between wwhat we might call friendship and eroticism among males – and overlaps
I hope to discuss in another context – that Ovid citest Nisus and Euryalus as
the ULTIMATE EMBODIMENT OF MALE FRIENDSHIP, putting them in the company of
THESEUS AND PIRITUOUS, ORESTES AND PYLADES ACHILESS AND PATROCLUS, Tristia
1.5.19-24, 1.9.27-34 but the relationship between ACHILEES AND PATROCLUS, at
least, was openly described as including a sexual element by classical Greek
writers (see n. 92), and with characteristic cluntness by Martial (11.43), wh
cjites the pair as an illustration of the special pleasures of anal
intercourse. The relationships between Cydon and CClytius, Cycnus and Phaethon,
and Juupiter and Ganymede (on Eneas’s shield) all demonstrate that pedersastic
relationships enjoy a comfortable presence in the world of the Aeneid. Niusus
and Euryalus are thus HARDLY ALONE. Some scholars have even detected an EROTIC
ELEMNET in Virgil’s depiction of the relationship between Aeneas and Evander’s
son Pallas. See e. g. Gillis, Putnam, and Moorton. Erasmo and Lloyd have
independently described erotic elements in the relationship between the young
Evander and Anchises, a relationship that, they argue, is then replicated in
the next generation, with Pallas and Aeneas.
But their relationship is more complex than the rather straightforward
attraction of Cydon for beautiful boys, of Cycnus for the well-born young
Phaethon, and even of Jupiter for Ganymede. For while those couples conform
unproblematically to the Greek pedrerastic model (one partner is older and
dominant, the other young and sub-ordinate), Nisus and Eurialus only do so AT
FIRST GLANCE. AS the poem progresses they are transformed from a Hellenic
coupling of Erastes and eromanos into a pair of ROMAN MEN (VIRI). The
valosiging distinctions inherent in the pederstaist paradigm seem to fade with
the Roman’s poet remark that the rwo rushed into war side by side (PARITER –
PARITERQUE IN BELLA RUEBANT Vir Aen 9. 182), and they certainly DISAPPEAR when
the old man Aletes, praising them from their bold plan, addresses the TWO as
VIRI (QUAE DIGNA, VIRI, PRO LAUDIBUS ISTIS, PRAEMIA POSSE REAR SOLVI, 252-3,
whe an enemy leader who catches a
glimpse of them shoults out, “Halt, men!” (STATE VIRI, 376), and most
poignantly, when the sight of the two “MEN’S” severed heads pierced on enemy
spears stuns the Trojan soldiers. SIMUL ORA VIRUM PRAEFIXA MOVEBANT NOTA NIMIS
MISERIS ATROQUE FLUENTIA TABO 471-2 . In other words, although Euryalus is the
junior partner in this relationship, not yet endowed with a full beard and
capable of being labeled the PUER, his actions prove him to be, in the end, as
much of a VIR, as capalble of displaying VIRTUS – as his older lover Nisus.
There is a further complication in our interpretation of the pair, and indeed
all the pederstastic relationships in the Aeneid. Virgil’s epic is of course
set in the MYTHIC PAST and cannot be taken as direct evidence for the cultural
setting of Virgil’s own day. Moreover, the poem is suffused with the influence
of Greek poetry. Thus, one might argue that the rather elevated status of
pedersastic relationships in the Aeneid is a SIGN merely of the DISTANCES both
cultural and temporal between Virgil’s contemporaries and the character s of
his epic. Yet, while the influence of Homer is especially strong in these
passages of battle poetry (Virgil’s passing reference to Cydon’s erotic adventures
echoes the Homeric technique of citing some touching details about a warrior’s
past even as he is introduced to the reader and summarily killed off), is is a
much-discussed fact that there are no UNAMIBUOUS, diret references in the
Homeric epics to pedersastic relationships on the classical model. The
relationship between ACHILLES AND PATROCLUS was understood by later Greek
writers to have a seual component see e. g. Aesch. F.r. 135-7 Nauck – from the
Myrmidons), Pl. Symp. 180a-b, Aeschin. 1.133, 141-50, Lyne, p. 235, n. 49,
crediting Griffin, adds Bion 12 Gow. But the test of the Iliad itself, while
certainly suggesting a passionate and deeply intense bond between the two, does
not represent them in terms of the classical pederastic model. See further,
Clarke, Achiles and Patroclus in Love, Hermes, v. 106 p. 381-96, Sergent,
250-8, and Halperin p. 75-87. Virgil might thus be said to ‘out-Greek’ Homer in
his description of Cydon. G. Knauer, Die Aeneis und Homer, Gottingen, cites no
Homeric parallel for these lines. And yet the pederastic relationships in the
Aeneid occur NOT AMONG GREEKS but rather among TROJANS AND ITALIANS, two
peoples who are strictly distinguished din the epic from the Greeks, and
who,more importantly, together constitute the PROGENTIROS of the roman race.
Cf. Turnus’s rhetoric based on sharp distinctions among the Trojans, Greeks,
ndnd Italians, and the weighty dialogue between Jupiter and June where it is
agreed that Trojans and Italians will become ONE RACE. Virgil’s readers found
pederstastic relationships ina n epic on their people’s orgins, and temporal
gap or no, this would have been unthinkable in a cultural context in which
same-se relationships were universally condemned or deeply problematized. But
is it still not the case that, since Nisus and Euryalus are freeborn Trojans,
Virus, and perhaps also Aeneas and Pallas. Significalntly, though, the arua of
a male-female relationship in the Aeneid, namely the doomed love affair of
Aeneas with the would-be univira Dido. In other words, while a MALE-MALE
relationship that corresponds to what would among among Romans of Virgin’s own
day be considered stuprum is capable of being heroized in the epic, a
male-female relationhship that th etet implicitly marks as a kind of stuprum is
not. This tywo types of relationships in the brates, even glamorizes, a
relationship that in his own day would be labeled as instance sos stuprum? Here
the gap between Virgil’s time and the mythis past of his poem has significance.
While, due toe o their freeborn status, analogues of to Nisus and Euryalus in
Virgil’s OWN DAY could not have found their relationship SO OPENLY CELEBRATED,
they did find HEROISED ANCESTORS IN NISUS AND EURYALUS, Cydon, and Clutis. And
perhaps also Aeneas and Pallas. Significantly, though, the aura of the mythic
past does not extend so far as to conceal the moral problematization of a
male-female relationship in the Aeneid, namely the doomed love affair of Aeneas
with the would-be univiria Dido. In other words, while a male-male relationship
that corresponds to what would among Romans of Virgil’s own day be considered
stuprum is capable of being heroized in thee pic, a male-female relationship
that the tect implicitly marks as a kind of stuprum is not. The issue is
complex. Dido is of course neither Roman nor Trojan, and thus at first glance
Aeneas’s relationship with her does not constitute stuprum. But since Dido’s
experiences are, in important ways, seen though a Roman filtre, above all, the
commitment to her first husband that makes her a prototypical univira, her
involvement with Aneas (aculpa 4 19, 172, constitutes an offense within the
moral framework poposed by the text in a way that the relationship between
Nisus and Euryalus does ot. This distintion revelas something about the
relative degrees of problematization of the two types of relationships in the
cultural environment of Virgl’s readership. ‘Blessed pair! If my poetry has any
power no day shall ever remove you from the remembering ages, as lon as the
house of Aeneas dwells upon the immommovable rock of the Capitol, as long as
the Romans father holds sway.’ One can hardly imagine such grandiose prise of
an adulterous couple ina Roman epic!” Grice: “Niso ed Eurialo are presented as
the epitome of friendship along with Achilles and Patroclus, Ercole e Idi, and
Oreste e Palade. Luigi Speranza, "Gilbert Proebsch e George
Passmore", Luigi Speranza, "Kosuth" -- Luigi Speranza,
"Keith Arnatt" -- Luigi Speranza, "Unità etica ed unità
emica" -- Luigi Speranza, "Fenomenologia" -- Luigi Speranza,
"Concettualismo". Roberto Casati. Keywords: Eurialo e Niso; ovvero,
dell’amicizia, “la conversazione come arte del negoziato”; teoria
conversazionale dell’artifatto, segno, comunicazione, imagine, intenzione,
Grice, Ricominiciamo da capo – logico, stramaledettamente logico – implicatura
come stramaledettamente logica -- Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Grice e Casati”
– The Swimming-Pool Library.
Grice e Casini:
l’implicatura conversazionale de naturismo – il concetto di natura a Roma -- filosofia
italiana – Luigi Speranza (Roma). Filosofo italiano.
Grice: “I like Casini – he takes, unlike me, physics seriously! But then so did
Thales, according to Aristotle! – At Clifton we did a lot of ‘physical’ rather
than ‘metaphysical’ education!” – Linceo. Studia a Roma sotto Nardi, Antoni, e
Chabod. Si laurea sotto Spirito (disc. Gregory) con “L'idea di natura”.
I suoi interessi di ricerca in storia della filosofia si sono
successivamente estesi all'intreccio tra filosofia e scienze sperimentali nel
Settecento, soprattutto attorno alla figura di Isaac Newton e alla diffusione
della sintesi newtoniana nella cultura filosofica europea, a proposito di
filosofi come D'Alembert, Buffon, Maupertuis, Clairaut, Eulero, non senza tener
conto dell'opera divulgativa di Voltaire, fino a collocare in tale contesto
Kant. Insegna a Trieste, Bologna, e Roma. Le sue ricerche
riguardano Diderot e la filosofia dell'illuminismo, i nessi tra rivoluzione
scientifica e riflessione filosofica, l'origine e diffusione della fisica di
Newton, le vicende del mito pitagorico tra "prisca philosophia" e
"antica sapienza italica", le dispute sorte attorno al
darwinismo. Altre opere: “Diderot "philosophe", Laterza);
Mecanicismo -- L'universo-macchina: origini della filosofia newtoniana,
Laterza); Rousseau, Laterza); Introduzione all'illuminismo, Laterza --
razionalismo); Newton e la coscienza europea (Il Mulino); “Progresso ed utopia”
(Laterza); “L'antica sapienza italica. Cronistoria di un mito” (Il Mulino);
“Hypotheses non fingo” (Edizioni di Storia e Letteratura); “Alle origini del
Novecento: "Leonardo", rivista filosofica di Firenze (Il Mulino); Il
concetto di creazione (Il Mulino). La lista di autorità e
l’accenno alla filosofia nazionale preludono al Platone. --Paolo Casini.
Si tratta di un saggio dedicato all'evoluzione del mito pitagorico nella
cultura europea. Senza cadere mai nella rassegna erudita, l'autore segue passo
passo le trasformazioni del mito dalla sua prima incarnazione nella cultura
romana alla riscoperta operata nel Rinascimento, alle discussioni
storico-archeologiche e alle strumentalizzazioni politiche del
Sette-Ottocento. Giuseppe Bottai o delle
ambiguità (Un'erma bifronte - Leader revisionista - Nella babele corporativa -
La guerra di Pisa - «Starci con la mia testa» - Apologia – Espiazione) - 2. Ugo
Spirito: «scienza» e «incoscienza» (Una teoresi postidealista - Teorico
dell'economia corporativa - Il «bolscevico» epurato - «Mutevolezza e
instabilità» - «Scienza», «ricerca», «arte» - Guerra e Dopoguerra - Alla
ricerca del padre) - 3. Camillo Pellizzi: il fascio di Londra e la sociologia
(Genius loci - Tra Roma e Londra - Pax romana in Albione - «Aristòcrate» -
Dottrina del fascismo - Il postfascismo e la «rivouzione mancata» - Verso la
sociologia) - 4. I doni di Soffici («Si parla» - «Scoperte e massacri» - Sguardi
retrospettivi: tragedia e catarsi - Docta ignorantia - «Commesso viaggiatore
dell'assoluto» - Genus irritabile vatum - Un dialogo tra sordi - Amici e
nemici) - 5. Un autoritratto (A metà ventennio – Riflessi - Tra casa e scuola -
Agrari in Toscana - I primi pedagoghi - L'Istituto Massimo sj - Vinceremo! - Il
passaggio del fronte – Dopoguerra - Scuola a Firenze - Al Liceo Tasso) - 6.
Studium Urbis (Gli anni Cinquanta - Nardi e Chabod - Eredità idealistiche -
Ideologie in crisi – Diderot - Roma, gli amici - Savinio, Carocci - La naja –
Intermezzi - Olivetti, Ivrea - La "cultura" della RAI – Let Newton Be
- Anni di prova) - Indice dei nomi Order Zoogonia e
"Trasformismo" nella fisica epicurea Giornale Critico Della Filosofia
Italiana 17 (n/a): 178. 1963. Like Recommend Bookmark L'universo-Macchina
Origini Della Filosofia Newtoniana Laterza. 1969. 1 citation of this work Like
Recommend Bookmark 10 Zev Bechler, Newton's Physics and the Conceptual
Structure of the Scientific Revolution. Boston Studies in the Philosophy of
Science 127. Dordrecht: Kluwer (review)
British Journal for the History of Science The "Enciclopedia
italiana". Fringes of ideology Rivista di Filosofia Political Theory Like
Recommend Bookmark Éléments de la philosophie de Newton (review) British
Journal for the History of Science Isaac Newton Like Recommend Bookmark
10 Rousseau e l'esercizio della sovranità Rivista di Filosofia Jean-Jacques
Rousseau Like Recommend Bookmark 9 Il momento newtoniano in Italia: un
post-scriptum Rivista di Storia Della Filosofia 2. 2006. Like Recommend
Bookmark 5 Newton in Prussia Rivista di Filosofia Newton 1 citation of
this work Like Recommend Bookmark 27 François-Marie Arouet de Voltaire,
Éléments de la philosophie de Newton, critical edition by Robert L. Walters and
W. H. Barber. The Complete Works of Voltaire, 15. Oxford: Voltaire Foundation,
Taylor Institution, British Journal for the History of Science 17th/18th
Century French Philosophy Like Recommend Bookmark Lo spettro del materialismo e
la "Sacra famiglia" Rivista di Filosofia Lumi e utopie in uno studio
di Bronislaw Baczko Rivista di Filosofia The New World and the Intelligent
Design Rivista di Filosofia Anti-Darwinist ApproachesDesign Arguments for
Theism Like Recommend Bookmark Scienziati italiani del Seicento e del
Settecento Rivista di Filosofia Kant e la rivoluzione newtoniana Rivista di
Filosofia Kant: Philosophy of Science Like Recommend Bookmark » Ottica,
astronomia, relatività: Boscovich a Roma; « Rivista di Filosofia Introduzione
All'illuminismo da Newton a Rousseau Laterza; Like Recommend Bookmark Newton e i suoi
biografi Rivista di Filosofia Diderot e Shaftesbury Giornale Critico Della
Filosofia Italiana L'iniziazione Pitagorica Di Vico Rivista di Storia Della
Filosofia; Like Recommend Bookmark Per
Conoscere Rousseau with Jean-Jacques Rousseau Mondadori. 1976. Jean-Jacques
Rousseau Toland e l'attività della materia Rivista di Storia Della Filosofia
British Philosophy, Misc L'eclissi della scienza' Rivista di Filosofia
Rousseau, il popolo sovrano e la Repubblica di Ginevra Studi Filosofici Il mito
pitagorico e la rivoluzione astronomica Rivista di Filosofia Newton, Leibniz e
l'analisi: la vera storia Rivista di Filosofia; Like Recommend Bookmark
13 Francesco Bianchini und die europäische gelehrte Welt um 1700 Early Science
and Medicine History of Science Like Recommend Bookmark L'antica Sapienza
Italica Cronistoria di Un Mito. 1998. Pythagoreans Like Recommend
Bookmark 16 Candide, Theodicy and the «Philosophie de l'Histoire» Rivista
di Filosofia La filosofia a Roma Rivista di Filosofia Vico's initiation into
the study of Pythagoras Rivista di Storia Della Filosofia Pythagoreans Topic
Order Teoria e storia delle rivoluzioni scientifiche secondo
Thomas Kuhn Rivista di Filosofia Il
problema D'Alembert Rivista di Filosofia Semantica dell'Illuminismo Rivista di
Filosofia Cheyne e la religione naturale newtoniana Giornale Critico Della
Filosofia Italiana Newton's Physics and
the Conceptual Structure of the Scientific Revolution (review) British Journal
for the History of Science Isaac Newton Like Recommend Bookmark 1 Diderot
and the portrait of eclectic philosophy Revue Internationale de Philosophie
Diderot Like Recommend Bookmark 6 "Magis amica veritas": Newton
e Descartes Rivista di Filosofia Isaac Newton Like Recommend Bookmark La Natura
Isedi. 1975. Like Recommend Bookmark Voltaire, la geometria della visione e la
metafisica Rivista di Filosofia Leopardi apprendista: scienza e filosofia
Rivista di Filosofia Studi stranieri sulla filosofia dei Lumi in Italia Rivista
di Filosofia Il metodo di Foucault e le
origini della rivoluzione francese Rivista di Filosofia Rousseau e Diderot
Rivista di Storia Della Filosofia Diderot « philosophe » Revue Philosophique de
la France Et de l'Etranger Continental Philosophy 1 citation of this work Like
Recommend Bookmark Newton: gli scolii classici Giornale Critico Della Filosofia
Italiana La ricerca embriologica in Italia da Malpighi a Spallanzani Rivista di
Filosofia L'empirismo e la vera
filosofia: il caso Scinà Rivista di Filosofia 8The Newtonian moment in Italy: A
post-scriptum Rivista di Storia Della Filosofia Classical Mechanics Like
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di Filosofia Freud Grean: Shaftesbury's philosophy of religion and ethics. A
study in enthusiasm (review) Studia Leibnitiana
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Filosofia Newton: the classical scholia History of Science; 1 reference in this
work 15 citations of this work Diderot et le portrait du philosophe éclectique
Revue Internationale de Philosophie Morte e trasfigurazione del testo Rivista
di Filosofia L'universo-Macchina Origini Della Filosofia Newtoniana Laterza.
Bechler, Newton's Physics and the Conceptual Structure of the Scientific
Revolution. Boston Studies in the Philosophy of Science 127. Dordrecht: Kluwer
(review) British Journal for the History of Science Éléments de la philosophie
de Newton (review) British Journal for the History of Science 2Isaac Newton Like
Recommend Bookmark 6 The "Enciclopedia italiana". Fringes of
ideology Rivista di Filosofia Political Theory Il momento newtoniano in Italia:
un post-scriptum Rivista di Storia Della Filosofia Rousseau e l'esercizio della
sovranità Rivista di Filosofia
Jean-Jacques Rousseau Topic Order 5 Newton
in Prussia Rivista di Filosofia saac Newton 1 citation of this work Like
Recommend Bookmark 27 François-Marie Arouet de Voltaire, Éléments de la
philosophie de Newton, critical edition by Robert L. Walters and W. H. Barber.
The Complete Works of Voltaire, 15. Oxford: Voltaire Foundation, Taylor
Institution, (review) British Journal
for the History of Science 26 (3): 360-361. 1993. 17th/18th Century French
Philosophy. Grice: “An assumption generally shared by those who wrote and read
the tests surveyed in Latin is that male desire can normally and normatively be
directed at either male of female objects. If this configuration is held to be
NORMAL or NORMATIVE, we might expect that it would also be represented as
NAATURAL, and it is thus worthwhile to consider the role played by the
discourse of NATURE in ancient representations of sexual behaviour. This
question is both hughe and complex.Important discussions include Boswell,
1Foucault, 1986, 150-7, 189-227, and Winkler, 20-1 36-7 114 8. but one thing is
clear: the ancient rhetoric of nature, as it relates to sexual practices,
displays significant differenct from more recent discourses. Boswell, for
example, observes that while “what is supposed to have been the major
contribution of Stoicism to Christian sexual morality – the idea that the sole
‘natural’ and hence moral use of sexuality is procreation, is in fact a common
belief of amny philosophies of the day’ at the same time, ‘the term UNNATURAL
was applied eto everything from POSTNATAL CHILD SUPPORT to legal contracts
between friends (Boswell). ‘The objection that homsosexuality is ‘unnatural’
appears, in short, to be neither scientifically nor morally cogent and probably
represents mnothing more than a derogatory epithet of unusual emotiona impact
due to a confluence of historically sanctioned prejudiced and ill-formed ideas
about ‘nature.’”Thus, as Winkler notes, the contrast between nature and
non-nature, when deployed in ancient writings simply ‘does not posess the same
valence that it does today’ Winkler, p. 20 Moreover, nearly all of the texts
that offer opinions on whether specific secual practice is in accordance with
nature are works of philosophy. The guestion does NOT seem to have seriously
engaged the writers of texts that directly spoke to and reflected popular moral
conceptions (e. g. graffiti, comedies, epigram, love poetry, oratory). For this
important distinction between the morallyity espoused by a philosopher and what
we might call popular morality, see the introduction and chapter 1. In short, as Richinlin warns us, the question
I ‘something of a red herring, since the concept of nature takes a larger and
more ominous form in our Christian culture than it did in AAncient Rome,
whetere itw as a matter for philosophers’.Richlin, p. 533. But it may
nonetheless be worthwhile to attempt a preliminary exploration of how the
rhetoric of NATURE was applied by some ROMAN PHILOSOPHERS to sexual practices,
particularly those between males.In other words. I would like to go a step or
two beyond that ‘nature’ is generally used by Roman moralists to justify what
they approve of’ (Edwards 88 n. 87). always bearing in mind, however, that to
the extent that it was mostly taken up by philsoeophers, the question of
‘natural’ sexual practice seems not to have played a significant role in most
public discourse among Romans. Nonphilosophical texts sometimes do deploy the
rhetoric of NATURE in conjunction with sexual practices, at least insofras they
as they offer representations of ANIMAL bheaviour, one possible component in
arguments about what is natural.2-6, and Win3, on Philo’s description of
crocodiles mating. kler, 2See for example Boswell, 137-43, 15 It will come as
no surprise that Roman writers images of animals’ sexual practices are
transparetntly influenced by their own cultural traditions. Thus in no Roman
text do we find an explicit appeal to animal bhehaviour in order to condemn
sexual practices between males as unnatural.Such an argument does occasionally
appear in Greek texts, such as Plato, Laws 836c (martua parag Omenos en ton
therios phusin kai deiknos pros ta toitauta oux aptomenon arena arrenos dia to
me phusei touto einai – and Lucian Amores 36. To Be sure, Musonius Ruffus’s
condemnation of sexual practices between males as para phusin might imply a
reference to animal practices, and it is possible that in some work now lost to
us the Roman Stoic followed in Plato’s footsteps in being explicit on the
point. A Juvenalian satire does make reference to animal behaviour in orer to
condemn cannibalism (claiming that no animas eat member s of their own species
Juv. 15 159-68. And in a passage discussed later in this appendix, Ovid has a
character argue that NO FEMALE ANIMAL experiences SEXUAL DESIRE for other
females. These claims are as unsupportable as the claim that sexual practices
between males do not occur anong nonhuman animals.This is obvious to anyone who
has spent time with dogs. With regard to the academic-study of the question,
the remarks of Wolfe, Evolution and Female Primate Sexual Behaviour, in
Understanding behaviour: what primate studies tell us about human behaviour
Oxford, p.are as illuminating as they are depressing. ‘I have taked with
several (anonymous at their request) primatologists who have told me that they
have observed both male and female homosexual bheaviour during field studies.
They seemed reluctant t publish their data,
however, either because THEY FEARED HOMOPHOBIC REEACTIONS (‘my
ccolleagues might thank that I am gay’) or because they lack a framework for
analysis (‘I don’t know what it means’). On the latter point Wolfe insightfully
comments that the same problem affects our attempts to understand ANY sexual
interactions among primates. ‘Because the alloprimates do not possess language,
it is impossible to inquir into their sexual eroticism. In other words,
homosexual and heterosexual behaviours can be observed, recorded, and analysed,
but we cannot infer either homoeroticism or heteroeroticism from such
behaviours (p. 131). But the fact that we do find animal behaviour cited by
Roman authors to CONDEMN such phenomena as cannibalism and same-sec desire
among females, but not SAME-SEX desire among males, merely proves the point.
These rhetorical strategies reveal more about ROMAN cultural concerns than
about actual animal behaviour. A poem in the Appendix Vergiliana introduces us
to a lover hhappyly separated from his beloved Lydia. In the throes of his
grief he cries out that this miserable fate NEVER BEFALLS ANIMALS: A bull is
never without his cor, nor a he-goat without his mate. In fact, sighs, the
lover: ET MAS QUACUMEQUE EST ILLA SUA FEMINA IUNCAT INTERPELLATOS SUMPAUQM
PLORAVIT AMORES CUR NON ET NOBIS FACILIS NAUTRA FUISTI CUR EGO CRUDELEM PATIOR
TAM SAEPE DOLOREM? (Lydia 35-8). The lover is melodramatically weepy and that
consideration partially accounts of his ridiculous claim that male animals are
never to be seen without their mates. Still, amatory hyperbole aside the verses
nicely illustrate the tendency to shape both natura and animal bheaviour into
whatever form is convenient for the argument at hand. Thus, Ovid,s suggesting
that the best way to appease one’s angry mistress is in bed, portrays sexual
behaviour among early human beings and animals s as the primary force that
effects RECONCILIATION (Ars 2 461-92. The poet offers a lovely panorama in
which animal behaviour is invoked as a POSTIIVE paradigm for specific human
practices: unting otherwise scattered groups (2. 473-80) and mollifying an
angry lover (2. 481-90). Less than two hundred lines later, the same poet
invokes animalas as A NEGATIVE PARADIGM, again in support of a
characteristically human concern: discretion in sexual matters. IN MEDIO
PASSIMQUE COIT PECUS HOC QUOQUE VISO AVETIT VULTUS NEMPE PUELLA SUOUS
CONVENIUNS THALAMI FURTIS ET IANUA NOSTRIS PARSQUE SUB INJIECAT VESTE PUDDAN
LATET ET SI NON TENEBRAS AT QUIDDAM NUBIS OPACAE QUAERIMUS ATQUE ALIQUID LUCE
PATENTE MINUS (Ovid, Ars, 2 615-20). Drawing his objets lesson to a close, Ovid
holds up his own behaviour as a pattern to follow. NOS ETIAM VEROS PARCE
PROFITEMUR AMORES TECTAQUE SUNT SOLIDA MYSTIFCA FURTA FIDE 639-40. And we are
reminded of the strategies of this pasage’s broader context. If you want to
keep your girlfriend happy, do not kiss and tell: that is the argument in
service of which animal behaviour is invoked as NEGATIVE paradigm. These to
Ovidian passages illustrate the utilyt of arguments from the animal world. Just
look ant the animals and see how much we resemble them; just look at the51-5. animals and see how far we have come.An
epigram by theGreek poet Strato gives the later poin an dineresting twist. We
huam beings, he writes, are SUPERIOR to animals in that, in addition to vaginal
intercourse, we have discovered ANAL INTERCOURSE, thus men who are dominated by
women are really no better than mere animals (A P 12 245 PAN ALOGON soon bivei
monon oi ligkoi de ton allon zoon tout exkomen to pleon pugizein eurotntes
hosoi de guanxi kratountai ton alogon zoon ouden exousi kleon. It all depends
on the eye – and rhetorical needs – of the beholder. OS it is that Roman
writers show how Roman they are through the picture they paint of sexual
practices among animals of the same sex. Ovid himself, in his Metamorphoses,
imagines the plight of young girl named Iphis who has fallen in love with
another girl. In a torrent of self-pity and self-abuse, she expostulates on her
passion, making a simultaneous appeal to NATURA and to the animals that is
reminiscent of Ovid’s sweeping review of animal bheaviour in the Ars amatorial
just cited. But this time the paradigm is an emphatically negative one. SI DI
MIHI PARCERE VELLENT PARCERE DEBUERANT SI NON ET PERDERE VELLENT NAUTRALE MALUM
SALTEM ET DE MORE DEDISSENT NEC CACCAM VACCA NEC EQUAS AMOR URIT EQUARUM: URIT
OVES ARIES SEQUITUR SUA FEMINA CERVUM SIC ET AVES COEUNT INTERQUE ANIMALIA
UNCTA FEMINA FEMINEO ONREPTA CUPIDINE NULLA EST (Ov. Met. 9. 728-34) As with
Lydia’s lover, so here we have the melodramatic expostulations of an unah[py
lover, and similarly her view of animal behaviour does not correspond to the
realities of that behaviour. Still, these arguments are pitched in such a way
as to invite a Roman reader’s agreement, and the sexual practices invoked as
natural and occurring among the animals demonstrate a SUSPICIOUS SIMILARTY to
the sexual practices and desired SEMMED ACCEPTABLE BY ROMAN CULTURE (the female
never leaves the male, heterosexual intercourse is a convenient and pleasurable
way of unting different social groups, and females never lust after females),
or to specifically HUMAN EROTIC STRATEGIES: we do not copulate in public, and
we should not kiss and tell if we want our to keep our partners happy. It
cannot be coincidental that, whereas Ovid invokes animal behaviour in the context
of a girl’s tortured rejection of her own passionalte yearnings for another
girl, the mythic compendium in which this natrratie is found is peppered with
stories involves passion and sexual relations between males. Both Orfeo (after
losing his wife Euridice) and the gods themselves (whether married or not) are
represented as ‘giving over their love to TENDER MALES, harvesting the BRIEF
springtime and its first flowers before maturaity sets in” Ov. Met. 10. 83-5
ORPHEUS ETIAM THRACUM POPULIS FUIT AUCTOR AMORET IN TENEROS TRANSFERRE MARES
CITRAQUE IUVENTAM AETATIS BREVE VER ET PRIMOS CARPERE FLORES. The stories that
Orfeo proceeds ts to relate include those of the young CYPARISSUS once loved by
Apollo Met 10.106-42 and the tales of Zeus and Ganumede, Apollo and Hyacinth
(Met 10 155-219 Consider also the beautiful sixteen yer old Indian boy Athis
and his Assyrian lover Lycabas (Met. 5 47-72. A passage which echoes of
Virgil’s lines on NISUS AND EURIALO discussed in chapter 2. And the remark that
the stunning but haughty young Narcissus, also in his sixteenth year, had many
admireers of both sexses (Met 3 351-5.None of Ovid’s characters arever
questions the NATURAL status of that kind of erotic experience or invokes the
animals in order to reject it. Aulus Gellius preserves for us some anecdotes
that further demonstrate the manner in which animal bheaviour could be made to
conform to human paradigms. Writing of (IMPLICITLY MALE) dolfns who fell in
love with beautiful boys (one oft them even died of a broek heart after losing
his beloved) Gellius exclaims that they were acing “in amazing human ways” 606C-D
and Plin N H 8 25-8 for this and other tales of male dolphins falling in love
with human boys. Gell 6 8 3 NEQUE HI AMAVERUNT QUOD SUNT IPSI GENUS SED PUEROS
FORMA LIBERALI IN NAVICULIS FORE AUT IN VADIS LITORUM CONSPECTOS MIRIS ET
HUMANIS MODIS ARSERUNS. Cf. Athen 13 Once again, the comment tells us more
about ‘human ways’ than about dolphins. The elder Plini, who alo relates this
story regarding the dolphin, introduces his encyclopeic discussion of elephants
by observing that they are nonly the largest land animals but the ones closest
to human beings in their intelligence and sense of morality. In particular,
they take pleasure in love and pride (AMORIS ET GLORIAE VOLUPTAS), and by way
of illustration of the ‘power of love’ (AMORIS VIS) among elephants he cites
two examples: ONE MALE FELL IN LOVE WITH A FEMALE FLOWER_SELLER, another with a
young Syractusan man named MENANDER who was in Ptolemy’s army. Likehise he
tells of a MALE GOOSE who fell in love with a beautiful young Greek MAN, and of
another who loved a female musician whose beauty as such that she alstro
attracted the attention of a ram. -4. NEC QUIA DESIT ILLIS AMORIS VIS, NAMQUE
TRADITUR UNUS AMASSE QUANDAM IN AEGYPTO COROLLAS VENDENTEM ALLUS MENANDRUM
SYRACUSANUM INCIPIENTIS IUVENTAE IN EERCITU PTOLEMACI DESIDERIUM EIUS QUOTIENS
NON VIDERET INEDIA TESTATUS 10.51 QUIN EST FAMA AMORS AEGII DILECTA FORMA PUERI
NOMINE OLENII AMPHILOCHI, ET GLAUCES PTOLOMAEO REGI CITHARA CANENTIS QUAM EODEM
TEMPORE ET ARIES AMASSE PRODITUR. Plin N H 8 1. MAXIMUM EST EPLEPHANS
PROXIMUMQUE HUMANIS SENSIBUS QUIPPE INTELLECTUS ILLIS SERMONIS PATRII ET
IMPERIORUM OBEDIENTIA, OFFICIOURM QUAE DIDICERE MEMORIA, AMORIS ET GLORIAE VOLUPTAS
8 13Turing to the concept of NATURA as it applied to sexual pracyices by
ancient writers, we being with basica basic problem. The very term NATURA has
various referents in those texts. Sometimes NATURA seems simply to refer to the
way things are or to the INHERENT nature OF something, sometimes to the way
things SHOULD be according to the intention ordictates of some transcendent
imperative. Thus Foucault speaks of ‘the ‘three axes of nature’ in
philosophical discourse. The general order of the world, the orgginal state of
mankind, and a behaviour that is reasonably adapted to natural ends.Fouctault,
p. 215-6. See also the discussions in Boswell, p. 11-5, where he distinguishes
between ‘realistic’ and ‘ideal’ notions of nature, Beagon, and Levy, “Le
concept de nature a Rome: la physique, Paris). The first two of these axes are
evident in a wife-variety of Roman texts. Departures from what is observably
the usual PHYSICAL constitution of various thbeings could be called NONNATURAL
or UNNATURAL even by nonphilosophical authors. The Minotuar, centaurs, a snake
with feet, a bird with four wings, and a sexual union between a woman (the
muthis Pasiphae) and a bull.snAnon De Differentiis 520 23 MONSTRUM EST CONTRA
NATURAM UT EST MINOTAURUS. Serv. Aen 6. 286 (centaurs) Suet Prata fr.
176.113-5 snakes with feet, birds with
four wings. Serv. Aen. 1. 235.11. Pasiphae and the bull. Te elder Plinty claims
that breech births are ‘against nature’ since it is ‘nature’s way’ that we
should be born head first.n N H 7 45 -6. IN PEDES PROCIDERE NASCENTEM CONTRA
NATURAM EST RITUS NATURAE CAPITE HOMINEM GIGNI MOST EST PEDIBUS EFFERRI. PLiQuintilian
argues that to push one’s hair back from the forehead in order to achieve some
dramatic effect is to act ‘against nature’.Quint I O 11 3 160 CAPILLOS A FRONTE
CONTRA NATURAM RETRO AGERE. and Seneca himself
opines that being carried about in a litter is ‘contra natural’a, since nature
has gives us feet and we should use them.Sen. Epist 55 ` LABOR EST ENIM ET DIU
FERI AC NESCIO AN EO MAIOR QUIA CONTRA NATURAM EST QUAE PEDES DEDIT UT PER NOS
AMBULAREMUS. Finally, the belief that physical disabilities and disease are
UNNAUTARAL, and thus, implicitly, that a healthy body displaying no marked
derivations from the form illustrates what nature designed or intended,
surfaces in a number of texts, arnign from Celusus’ mdical treatise to
Ciceroo’s philosophical works to declamations attributed to Quintilian, to a
moral epistle fo Seneca to the, to the Digest.2 1. 60 pr. MOTUS CORPORIS CONTRA
NATURAM QUAM FEBREM APPELLANT. Quint. Decld. Min. 298.12 WEAK AND MALFORMED
BODIES ARE IMPLICITLY CCONTRA NATURAM. Celsus Medic 3 21 15. On fluids that are
retained in the body contra naturam. Cic Off 3 30 MORBUS EST CONTRA NATURAM.
Gell. 4 2 3 Labeo defines morbus asHABITUS CUIUSQUE CORPORIS CONTRA NATURAM QUI
USUUM ETIUS FACIT DETERIOREM. Cf. D. 21 1 1 7. D. 4Along the same lines, some
ancient writers also suggest that to harm a healthy body with poisons and the
like is unnatural.Quint Decl. Min. 246.3 the plaintiff refers to a substance as
a venenum QUONIAM MEDICAMENTUM SIT ET EFFICIAT ALIQUID CONTRA NATURAM. Sen
Epist 5. 4. To torment one’s body and to eat unhealthy food is CONTRA NATURAM. As
for the third of the axes described by Foucault, anthropologists and others
have long observed that proclamations concerning practices that are in
acoordance with nature often turn out to reflect specific cultural traditions.
As Winkler puts it, for nature we may often read culture.Winkler p. 17. In the
same way Edwards p. 87-8 discusses a passage from Seneca (Epist 95.20=1)
discussed in chapter 5, having to do with women who violate their ‘nature.’ She
concludes that ‘Seneca was not reacting to naturally anomalous bheaviour. He was
taking part in the reproduction of a a cultural system.’ So too Veyne , p. 26.
‘When an ancient says that something is unnatural, he does not mean that it is
disgraceful (monstrueuse) that that it does not conform with the rules of
society, or that it is perverted OR ARTIFICIAL”. Roman sources of various types
certainly support that contention. Thus, for example, violations of traditional
PRINCIPLELS OF LANGUAGE AND RHETORIC which are surely among the most intensely
cutlrual of human phenomeno are SOMETIMES SAID TO BE UNNATURAL.Serv. Comm. Art
Don. 4 4 4 PLINIUS AUTEM DICIT BARBARISMUM ESSE SERMOVEM UNUM IN QUO VIS SUA
EST CONTRA NATURAM – Serv Aen. 4. 427. REVELLI NON REVULSI. NAM VELLI ET
REVELLI DICIMUS. VULSUS VERO ET REVULSUS USURPATUM EST TANTUM IN PARTICIPIIS
CONTRA NATURAM cf. Sen. Contr. 10, pr. 9 – tof the rhetorician Musa. OMNIA
USQUE AD ULTIMUM TUMOREM PERDUCTA UT NON EXTRA SANITATEM SED EXTRA NATURAM
ESSENT. One legal writer invokes the rhetoric of NATURA to justify the
principle of individual ownership (joint possession of a single object is said
to be CONTRA NATURAL.D. 41 2 3 5 CONTRA NATURAM QUIPPE EST UT CUM EGO ALIQUID
TENEAM TU QUOTE ID TENERE VIDEARIS. Interestingly, another jurist argues that
the principle underlying the institution of slavery – that one person can be
owned by another – is actually ‘unnatural’ (D. 1. 5. 4. 1. SERVITUS EST
CONSTITUTIO IURIS GENTIUM QUA QUIS DOMINIO ALIENO CONTRA NATURAM SUBICITUR. In
a Horatioan satire we read that NATURA sees it that no one is every truly the
‘master’ of the land that he legally owns, and Natura puts a limit on how much
one can inherit (Hor. Sat. 2. 2. 129-30, 2.3.178). Sallust describes the
violation of the cultural and more specifically philosophical tradition
priviliengy the SOUL over the BODY as UNNATRUAL.Sall. Cat. 2. 8. QUIVUS PROFECT
CONTRA NATURAM CORPUS VOLUPTATI, ANIMA OVERI FUIT. SALLUST. Likewise, practices
violating Roan ideologies of MASCULINITY are represented as INFRACTIONS NOT of
cultural tranditions s but of the natural order. Cicero’s philosophical tratise
DE FINIBUS includes a discussion of the parts and with some clarity functions
of the BODY that illustrates the relation between NATURE and MSASCULINITY with
some clarity Our bodily parts, Cicero argues, are PERFECTLY DESIGNED to fulfil
their functions, and in doing so they are in conformance with nature. But there
are certain bodily movesmesns NOT in accord with nature (NATURAE
CONGRUENTES> If a man were to walk on his hand or to walk backwyasds, he
would manifestbly be rejecgting his identity as a human and thuswould thus be
displayeing a ‘hattred of nature’ (NAUTRAM ODISSE). Cic Fin 5 35. CORPORIS
IGITUR NOSTRI PARTES TOTAQUE FIGURA ET FORMA ET STATURA QUAM APTA AD NATURAM
SIT APPARET. The claim that walking on one’s hand is unnatural nicely
illustrates the gap between ancient and more recent uses of the rhetoric of
nature – cfr. Dodgson). The next illustration Cicer o offers of bodily moveents
not in accord with natura concerns correctly masculine ways of deporing
oneself. QUAMOBREM ETIAM SESSIONES QUAEDAM ET FLEXI FRACTIQUE MOTUS, QQUALES
PROTERVORUM HOMINUM AUT MOLLIUM ESSE SOLENT, CONTRA NATURAM SUNT, UT ETIAMSI
ANIMI VITIO ID EVENIANT TAMEN IN CORPOMUTRAR MUTARI HOMINIS NATURA VIDEATUR
ITAQUE A CONTRARIO MODERATI AEQUABILESQUE HABITUS AFFECTIONS USUSQUE CORPORIS
APTI ESSE AD NAUTRAM VIDENTUR (Cic. Fin 5. 35-6. Deemed ‘agaist natture’ are
certain ways of carrying oneself that are ‘wanton’ and ‘soft,’ movements lthat,
like walking on one’s hand or stepping backwards, clasi the with thvident
purporse of the body’s various parts. Implicitly then, nature wills men’s
bodies to move and to function in certain ways. Men who violate these
principles of masculine comportment are acting BOTH EFFEMINATELY (as we saw in
chapter 4, militia is a standard metaphor for effeminacy) AND UNNATURALLLY.
Cultural traditions regarding masculinity – here, appropriate bodily gestures –
are identified with the natural order.Similar conddemnations of inappropriate
bodily comportment, marked as EFFEMINATE, abound: walking daintily, scratching
the hair delicately wih onefinger, and so on (see chapter 4 in general and see
Gleason for a general discussion of physiognomy and masculinity in antiquity. How,
then is the rheotirc of nature applied to same-sex practices? One scholar has
recently suggested that the elder Pliny describes men’s desires to be anally
penetrated as occurring ‘by crime against nature’ Taylor, p. 325. But that is
probably a misinterpretation of Pliny’s language. IN HOMINUM GENERE MARIBUS
DEVERTICULA VENERIS EXCOGIGATA OMNIA, SCLERE (or CCCELERE naturae FEMINIS VERO
AOBRTUS Plin N H 10 172. The phrase DEVERTICULA VENERIS which one might
translate (by-ways of sex’ or ‘sexual deviations’ is vague. There is no reason
to think that it refers to specifically, let alone exclusively, to the practice
of being anally penetrated. Moreover, the phrase SCELERA NATURA or SCELERE
NATURAE, rather than ‘crime against nature,’ is most obviously transated as
‘crime OF NATURE,’ that is, a crime perpetrated BY NATURE.This is indeed the
way Plinio uses the phrase elsewhere, noting that we ought to call earthquakes
‘moracles of the eart rather than crimes of nature’ (NH 2 206 – UT TERRAE
MIRACULA POTIUS DICAMU QUAM SCLEREA NATURAE. See Beagon, p. 29. In other words
(pace Taylor and Rackham Loeb Classical Library translation, I take the
genitive NATURAE to be subjective rather than objective. I have not found any
parallels for such an objective use of a genitive noun dependent upon scelus. In
any case, Pliny is not implying that all sexual desires or practices between
males are unnatural: in this same treatise, significantly called the HISTORIA
NAUTRALIS or Natural Investigations’ he reports the story of a male elephant
who fell passionately in love with a young man from Syractuse as an
illustration of the obviously natural power of love of love (amoris vis) among
elephants; likewise, he reports the story of a gosse who loved a beautiful
young man.Plin N H 8 13-4, 10.51More explicitly referring to those men who take
pleasure in being penetrated, the speaker in Juvenal’s second satire riducules
menwho have wilfully abandoned their claim on masculine status by weaking
makeup, participating in women’s religious festivals, and even taking husbands,
and notes with gratitude, that nature does not allow them gto give birth.Juv. 2
139 40. SED MELIUS QUOD NIL ANIMIS IN CORPORI IURIS NATURA INDULGET STERILES
MORTUNTUR. For Further discussion see Appendix 2. The orator Labienus decries
wealthy men who castrate their male prostitutes (EXOLETI, see chapter 2) in
order to render them more suitable for playing the receptice role in
intercourse. These men use their rinces in UNNATURAL WAYS (contra natural), and
the natural standard they they violate is apparently the principle that mature
males both should make use of the PENISES and should be IMPENETRABLE.Sen Contr.
10. 4 17. PRINCIPES VIRI CONTRA NATURAM DIVITIAS SUAS EXERCENT CASTRATORUM
GREGES HABENT EXOLETOS SUOS AD LONGIOREM PATIENTIALM IMPUDICITIAE IDONEI SINT
AMPUTANT. Firmicus Maternus refers to men’s desires to be penetrated as CONTRA
NATURAL (5. 2. 11), and Caelius Aurelianus’s medical wirtings also reveal the
assumption that men’s ‘natural’ sexual function is TO PENETRATE and not to be
penetrated.9 137. NATURALIA VENERIS OFFICIA. Cael. Aurel. Morb. Chron. 4 In
short, nature’s ditactes conveniently accorded with cultural traditions, such
as those discouraging men from seeking to be penetrated, or those deterring
them from engaging in sexual relations with other men’s wives: in a poem that
urges on its male readers the principle that NATURA places a limit of their desires,
Horace remocommends, as implicitly being in line with the requirement of
nature, that men avoid potentially dangerous affaris with married women and
stick to their own slaves, bh male and female.Hor. Sat. 1 2 111. NONNE
CUPIDINIBUS STATUAT NATURA MODUM QUEM … Se chapter 1 for further discussion of
this poem. Cf. Sat. 1. 4. 113-4: NE SEQUERER MOECHAS CONCESSA CUM VENERE UTI
POSEEM. In one of his Episles (122) Seneca provides a lengthy and revealing
discussion of ‘unnatural’ behavours that include a reference to sexual
practices among males. He beings, however, by despairing of ‘those who have
perverted the roles of daytime and nightime, not opening their eyes, weighed
down by the preceding day’s hangover, until night begins its approach. Sen
Epist 122 2 SUNT QUI OFFICIA LUCIS NOTISQUE PERVERTERINT NEC ANTE DIDUCANT
OCULOS HESTERNA GRAVES CRAPULA QUAM ADPETERE NOX COEPIT. These people are
objectionably not simply because of their overindulgence in goof and drink but
because they do not respect the proper function of night and day.Comparing them
to the Antipodes, mythincal beings who live n the opposite side of the globe,
he asks. Do you think these people know HOW to live when they don’t even know
WHEN to live? 122.3 HOS TU EXISTIMAS SCIRE QUEMADMODUM VIVENDUM SIT QUI
NESCIUNT QUANDO?and this pervesion of night and say, is, in the end,
‘unnatural’. INTERROGAS QUOMODO HAEC ANIMAO PRAVITAS FIAT AVERSANDI DIEM ET
TOTAM VITAM IN NOCTEM TRANSFERENDI? OMNIA VITA CONTRA NAUTRAM PUGNANT, OMNIA
DEBITUM ORDINEM DESERUNT (Sen Epist. 122.5). He then proceeds to tick off a
serioes of bheaviour that are similarly CONTRA NATURAM. First, people who drink
on an empty stomach ‘live contrary to nature’ Sen. 122 6 NON VIDENTUR TIBI
CONTRA NATURAM VIVERE QUI IEIUNI BIBUNT QUI VINUM RECIPIUNT INANIBUS VENIS ET
AD CIBUM EBRII TRANSEUNT. Young men nowadsays, Seneca continues, go to the
baths before a meal and work up a sewat by drinking heavily; according to them,
only hopelessly philistine hicks (patres familiae rustici … et verae volupatigs
ignari) save their drinking for after the meal.Sen Epist 122 6. ATQUI FREQUENS
HOC ADULESCENTIUM VITIUM EST QUI VIRES EXCOLUNT UT IN IPSO PAENE BALINEI LIMINE
INTER NUDOS BIBANT IMMO POTENT ET SUDOREM QUEM MOVERUNT POTIONIBUS CREBRIS AC
FERVENTIBUS SUBINDE DESTRINGAT POST PRANDIUM AUT CENAM BIBERE VULGARE ETS HOC
PATRIS FAMILIAE RUSTICI FACIUT ET VERA VOLUPTATIS IGNARI. The latter comment,
with its contrast between URBAN AND RUSTIC life, austerity and luxyry , is a
valuable reminder of us. The standard violated by those who drank betweofre
eating was what we would call a cultural norm. But for Seneca they were
violating the dicates of NATURE, abandoning the proper order (debitum ordinem)
of things. This important point bust be borne in mind as we turn to the next
practices that come under Seneca’s fire: NON VIDENTUR TIBI CONTRA NATURAM
VIVERE QUI OMMUTANT CUM FEMINIS VESTEM? NON VIVUNT CONTRA NAUTRA QUI SPECTANT
UT PUERITIA SPENDEAT TEMPORE ALIENO? QUID FIERI CRUDELIS VEL VISERIOUS POTEST?
NUMQUAM VIR ERIT, UT DIU VIRUM PATI POSSIT? ET CUM ILLUM CONTUMELIAE SEXUS
ERIPUISSE DEBUERANT NON NE AETAS QUIDEM ERIPIET (Sen. Epist 122. 7). The
concept of the proper order is very much in evidence here, and here again the
order shows unmistakable signs of cultural influence. Just as those who turn
night into day or drink wine before they eat a meal are engaging in unnatural
activities, so men who wear women’s clothes live contrary to nature – yet what
could be more cultural than the designation of certain kinds of clothing as
appropriate only for men and others as appropriate only for women? Moving on to
his next point, Senceca continues to focus on extermal appearance. Men who
attempt to give the appearance of the boyhood that is in fact no longer theirs
also ‘live contrary to nature’. Again the order of things has been disrputed.
Boys should be boys, men should be men. But these particular men want to LOOK
like boys in order to find older male sexual partners to penetrate them. Such
is the thenor of Seneca’s decorous but blunt phrase, ‘so that he may submit to
a man for a long time’ (ut diu virum pati possit’). If we filter out Seneca’s
moralizing overlay, this detail gives us a fascinating fglimpse oat Roman
realities. These MEN scorned by Seneca acted upon the awareness that MEN would
be more likely to find them desirable if their bodies seemed like those of BOYS
(not men): young, smooth, irless. Moreover, the very fact that these men made
the effort suggests that th actual age of the beautiful ‘boys’ we always hear
of may not have mattered to their loveers so much as their youthful APPEARANCE.Cf.
Boswell, p. 29, 81. All of this is very much a matter of CONVENTION, of
CULtURAL traditions concerning the ‘proper order’ of things, but Seneca
insistently pays homage to NATURA.Cf. Winkler, p. 21. “Contrary to nature means
to Senea not ‘outside the order of the kosmos’ but ‘unwilling to conform to the
simplicity of the unadorned life’ and, in the case of sex, ‘going AWOL rom
one’s assigned place in the social hierarchy’”. The importance of this order is
especially clear in the climactic illustrations of those who live ‘contrary to
nature’. These are people who wish to see see roses in winter and employ
artificial means to grow lilies in the cold season; who grow orchards at the
tops of towers and trees under the roofs of their homes (this latter proving
Seneca to a veritable outburst ofm moral indignation)., and those who construct
their bathhouses over the waters of the sea Sen. Epist 122 21 NON VIVUNT CONTRA
NATURAM QUI FUNDAMENTA THERMARUM IN MARI IACIUNT ET DELICATE NATARE IPSI SIBI
NON VIDENTUR NISI CALENTIA STAGNA FLUCT AC TEMPESTATE FERIANTUR. Finally Seneca returns to the example of
unnatural practices that sparked the whole discussion: those who pervert the
function of night and day aengage in the ultimate form of unnatural behaviour (Sen
Epist 122 9 CUM INSTITUERUNT OMNIA CONTRA NATURAE CONSUETUDINEM VELLE NOVISSIME
IN TOTUM AB ILLA DESCISCUNT LUCET SOMNI TEMPUS EST QUIES EST NUNC EXERCEAMUR
NUNC GESTEMUR NUNC PRANDEAMUS. That the practice ofs of growing trees indoors,
of building bathhouses over the sea, and of sleeping by day and partying by
night should be considered unnatural makes some sense in relation to notions of
the ‘proper order’ of things. Plants should e outdoors, buldings should be on
dray land, and people should sleep at night. But that thes practices should be
cited as the most egregious examples of unnatural bheaviour – they constitute
the climax of Seneca’s argument – demontrastes just how wide the gap is between
ancient moralists and their modern counterparts on the question of what is
natural. With regard to mature men who seek to be penetrated by men, the third
of Seneca’s examples of unnatural behaviour, Seneca makes in passing a
surprising remark. CUM ILLUM CONTUMELIAE SEXUS ERIPUISSE DEBUERAT NON NE AETAS
QUIDEM ERIPIET? 122.7. The clear implication is that a nature man certainly
ought to be safe from ‘indignity’ (here a moralizing euphemism for
penetration), but ultimately the very fact that he is MALE, REGARDLESS OF HIS
AGE, ought to protect him. With with one pointed sentence, then, Seneca is
suggesting that MALENESS IN ITSELF IS IDEALLY INCOMPATIBLE WITH BEING
PENETRATED, and since sexual acts were almost without exception conceptualized
as REQUIRING penetration, this amounts to positing the exclusion of sexual
practices BETWEEN MALES from the ‘proper order’. This is a fairly radical
suggestion FOR A ROAM MAN TO MAKE, and Seneca was no doubt aware of that fact.
He slips the comment quietly into his discussion, makes the point rather subtly
(it makight ake a second reading even to REALISE IT IS THERE), and then instantly
moves on to other, less controversial arguments. FOR as opposed to Seneca’s
suggestion that EVERY MALE, even a boy, should somehow be ‘rescued’ from ‘indignity,’
the usual Roman system of protocols governing men’s sexual behaviour required
the understanding that A BOY is different from A MAN precisely because they
COULD BE penetrated without necessarily forfeiting EVERY CLAIM to masculine or
male status (see especially chapter 5 on this last point). But Seneca, waxing
Stoic, here voices a dissenting opinion, as does the first century A. D. Stoic
philosopher MUSONIUS RUFUS, in one of twhose treatises we find the remark that
sexual practices BETWEEN MALES are ‘against nature’ (‘para-physical’) Muson,
Ruf. 86. 10 Lutz para phusin. The remark needs to be be put in the context of
Musonius’s philosophy of nature. According to Musonious, every createure has its own TELOS beyond the goal
of simply being aalive En a horse would not b e fully living up to its telos if
all it did was to eat, drink, and copulate (106.25-7 Lutz)., while the TELOS or
goal of a human being is to live the life or arete or VIRTUS. Thus, “each one’s
nature (phusis) leads him to his particular virtuous quality (arete), so that
it is is a reasonable conclusion that a human being is living in accordance
WITH nature NOT when he lives in pleasure, but rather when he lives in virtue” 108.1-3
Lutz). Elsewhere he opines that human nature (phusis – anthropine phusis,
natura humana, Hume, Human Nature) is not aimed at pleasure (hedone, 106.21.3
Lutz). Consequently, luxury (truphe) is to be avoided in EVERY way, as being
the cause of INJUSTICE (126.30-1 Lutz). By implication, then, eating, drinking,
and aopulating are not in themselves evil, but they can easily become sgns of a
life of luxury, and if those activities aconstitute the goals of our existence,
we are FAILING TO FULFIL OUR POTENTIAL AS A HUMAN BEING, namely, the practice
of virtue, or reason, and consequently, not living IN ACCORDANCE WITH NATURE,
but against her (paa phusin). Thus, as part of a regime of SELF-CONTROL
(MALENESS OR MASCULINITY AS SELF-CONTROL, not addictive behaviour or weakness
of the will) Musonius argues that a man should engage in a sexual practice only
within the context of marriage for the purpose of begetting children. Any other
sexual relation, even within marriage should be avoided. T”Those who do not
live licentiously, or who are not evil, must think that only those sexual
practices are justified which are consummated within marriage and for the
creation of children, since these pratcttices are licit (NOMIMA). But such
people must think that those sexual practices which hunt for mere pleasure are
unjust and illicit, even if they take place within marriage. Of Other forms of
intercourse, those committed in moikheia (I e. a sexual relation with a
freeborn woman under another man;s control) are the most illicit. No more
moderate than this is the INTERCOURSE OF MALES WITH MALES, since it is a DARING
ACT CONTRARY TO NATURE. As for those forms of intercourse with with females
apart from moikheia which are not licit (kaTa nomon) all of these are too
shameful, because done on account of a lack of self-control. If one utside to behave temperately (TEMPERANTIA,
CONTINENTIA) one would not dare to have relations with a courtesan, nor with a
free woman outside of marriage, nor, by Zeus, with one’s own slave woman
(Musonius Rufus, 86.4-14 Lutz). As I argued in chapter 1, Musonius’s final
remark reveals the extent to which the sexual morality that he is preaching is
at odds with mainstream Roman traditions. Nor is his suggestion that men should
keep their hans off prostitutes and their own slaves the only surprising
statement to be found in the treatises attributed to Musonius. He elsewhere
aargues against the obviously widespread practices of giving up for adoption or
even exposing unwanted children (96-97 Lutz), of EATING MEANT (here he
explicitly contrasts himself with the many hoi polloi who live to eat rather
than the other way around (118-18-20 Lutz) or SHAVING THE BEARD (128.4-6 Lutz),
of using wet nurses (42.5-9 Lutz), and most appositely, of allowing husbands
sexual freedoms not granted to wives (96-8 Lutz). Thus his condemnation of
sexual practices between MALES is issued in the context of a condemnation of
ALL SEXUAL PRATICES other than those between husband and wife aimed at
procreation (strictly speaking, vaginal intercourse when the wife is ovulating)
and also in the context of a a suspicion of all luxury oand of pleasures beyond
those relating to the bare necessities of life. Thus he condemns sexual
relations between males as contrary to nature (the implication being that the
two sexes ARE DESIGNED TO UNITE WICH EACH OTHER IN THE CONTEXT OF MARRIAGE),
while sexual relations between malesand female outside of marriage are
criticized as ‘illicit (para-noma) and as signs of lack of self-control. Here
Musonius is obviously manipulating the ancient contrast between law or
convention (nomos) and nature (phusis) and interprestingly procreative
relations within marriage are ultimately given his seal of approval not because
they are more ‘natural’ than tother sexual practices, but because they are
‘licit’ or ‘conventional’ (nomima), just as adulterious relations are most
‘illicit’ of unconventional (paranomotatai). In other words, Musonius invokes
the rhetoric of nature only by way of secondary support.. A male-male relation
is no more ‘moderate’ than a adulterious relationa dn anyway, he adds, they are
‘unnatural’. But a relation between a man and another man’s wife, while
implicitly ‘natural’,is in the end more ‘illicit’ than a male-male relation.
Even for the Stoic Musonious, NATURA may NOT be the ultimate arbiter.
Interestingly, when he describes sexual practices between males as being
against nature, Musonius does not appeal to animal bheaviour as does Plato in
his Laws (836c). Indeed, such an argument sould have ill-suited Musonius’s
argument elsewhere that humans are different from other animals and should not
takem them as a MODEL FOR BHEAVIOUR. Thus he argues that wise men ill not
attack in return if attacked – such revenge is the province of MERE ANIMALS –
78.26-7 Lutz) – and that, while among animals an act of copulation suffices to
procude offspring, human beings should aim for the lifelong union that is
marriage (88.16-17 Lutz). Finally, there is an important distinction to observe
between Musonius’s remark concerning sexual practices between males and later
Christian fulminations against ‘the unnatural vice’ which came to be a code
term for ‘sodomy’. On the one hand, Musonius did not go so far as to condemn
such relations as THE unnatural vice. Indeed, if we think about the
implications of his words, relations between MALES do not even constitute the
ULTIAMTE sexual crime. He declare that ADULTEROUS relations are ‘the most
illicit of all’ (paranomotatai) and thus clearly more ‘illicit’ than relations
between males which are howevery ‘equally immoderate’. Furthermore Musonius’s
approach to the problem of sexual behaviour differs from later Christian
moralists in a fundamental respect. As Foucault puts it, according to Musonius,
‘to withdraw pleasure from this form (sc. Of marriage, to detach pleasure from
the conjugal relation in order to propoeseother ends for it, is in fact to debase
the ESSENTIAL composition of the human being. The defilement is not in the
sexual act itself, but in the ‘debauchery’ that would dissociate it from
marriage, where it has its natural form and its rational purpose” Foucault p.
170. Cicero ro in a passage from one of this major philosophical works, the
Tusculan disputations, approaches the ascetic stance advocated by Seneca and
Musonius Rufus, although he nowhere makes an explicit commitment to the extreme
suggested by Seneca and preached by Musonius. Speaking in the Tusculan
Disputations of the detrimental effects of erotic passion, Cicero observes that
the works of Greek poets are filled with images of love. Focusing on those who
describe LOVE FOR BOYS (he mentions Alcaeus, Anacreon, and Ibycus), Cicero
notes thain an aside that ‘NATURE HAS GRANTED A GREATER PERMISSIVENESS (maiorem
liicnetial)” to men’s affairs with women. Cic. Tusc. 4. 71. ATQUE UT MULIEBRIS
AMORES OMITTAM QUIVUS MAIOREM LICENTIAL NATURA CONCESSIT QUIS AUT DE GANYMEDI
RAPTU DUBITAT QUID POETAE VELINT AUT NON INTELLEGIT QUID APUD EURIPIDEM ET
LOQUATUR ET CUPIAT LAIUS. The comparative (MAIOREM LICENTIAL is noteworthy.
NATURE has granted ‘greater’, not exclusive license to affais with women than
to affairs with BOYS. The Latter are evidently NOT FORBIDDEN BY NATURE.
Discouraged perhaps, but not outlawed. This is a BEGRUDGING ADMISSION, in
perfect agreement with the tenor of the whole discussion of sexual passion
which had opened thus. ET UT TURPES SUNT QUI ECFERUNT SE LAETITIA TUM CUM
FRUUNTUR VENERIIS VOLUPTATIBUS SIC FLAGITIOSI QUI EAS INFLAMAMATO ANIMO
CONCPISCUNT TOTUS VERO ISTE QUI VOLGO APPELATUR AMOR – NEC HERCULE INVNEIO QUO
NOMINE ALIO POSSIT APPELARI TANTAE
LEVITATIS EST UT NIHIL VIDEAM QUOD PUTEM CONFERENDUM. (Cic. Tusc. 4. 68). These
words disparage sexual passion as a whole – particularly a hot, inflamed desire
(QUI EAST INFLAMMATO ANIMO CONCUSPICUNT) whether indulged in with women or with
boys. NATURA, according to Cicero, makes it easier to indulge in this passion
with women, so that when men DO INDULGE
IN IT WITH BOYS, they show just who DEEPLY THEY HAVE FALLEN VICTIM TO LOVE –
that treacherous and destructive power, ‘te originator of disgraveful behaviour
and inconstanty (FLAGITTI ET LEVITATIS AUCTOREM (4. 68), as G. Williams notes. In
fact, remarkably enough, Cicero later claims that love itself is not natural.
Cic. Tusc. 4 76. If love were natural, everyone would love, they would always
love, and would love the same thing: one person would not be deterred from
loving by a sense of shame, another by rational thought, another by his satiety
– ETENIM SI NAUTRALIS AMOR ESSET ET AMARENT OMNES ET SEMPER AMARENT ET IDEM
AMARENT NEQUE ALIUM PUDOR ALIUM COGITATIO ALIUM SATIETAS DETERRERET. Cicero’s
remark on NATURA and sexual relations with women is in fact fact little more
than a a passing comment. Still, its implications deserve some consideration.
In what whays does NATURE grant ‘greater permisiveness’ to a relation with aa
woma than with a boy? Why does Seneca suggest that men’s MALENESS ought to
preclude them from being PENETRATED, and why does Musonius Rufus condemn ALL
SEXUAL PRACTICES BETWEEN MALES as unnatural? These philosophers’ comments seem
to rest on certain assumptions about the function of sexual organs. Certainly
Seneca emphasixes the notion of the proper order or debitus ordon, according to
which men should not drink wine before eating, grow roses in the winter, build
buildings over the sea, or PENETRATE MALES. In short, some kind of ARGUMENT
FROM DESIGN seems to lruk in the backgrounf of Cicero’s Seneca’s and Musoniu’s
claism. The penis is ‘designed’ to PENETRATE a vagina. TA vagina is deigned to
be penetrated by a penis. Similarly the passage from Phaedrus Fables 4 16
discussed in chapter 5 implies, whitout actually using the word NATURA, that
males who desire to be penetrated (molles mares) and females who desire to
penetrate (tribades) have A FLAWED DESIGN. When Prometheus was assuming these
people’s bodies from CLAY, he attached the genial organs of the opposite sex in
a drunken slip-up. But his more popularizing account only specifies that those
males who DESIRE to be penetrated are anomalous. It does not designate those
men who seek to penetrate other males as unnatural. On this model, a sexual act
in which a master penetrated his UNWILLING MALE slave is NOT UNNATURAL. By contrast, according the
philosophers discussed here (Musonius most expliclty) this act would be
unnatural. But on the whole very few
Roman writers seem to have taken this kind of argument to heart. In general,
ROMAN MEN’S BEHAVIOURAL codes reflect an AWARENESS that the PENIS IS SUITED for
purposes OTHER than penetrating avagina, and that the vagina is NOT the only
organ suited for being penetrated. Such is the implication of a witty comment
in an epigram of Martial’s addressed to a man who, instead of doing the USUAL
WITHIN with his BOY and analyy penetrating him, has been STIMULATING THIS
GENITALS. This is objectionable because it will speed up the process of his
maturation and thus hasten THE ADVENT OF HIS BEARD (11.22.1-8). Martial tries
to talk some sense into his friend and the epigram ends with an APPEAL TO
NATURE. DIVISIT NATURA MAREM PARS UNA PUELLIS UNA VIRIS GENITA EST UTERE PARTE
TUA Mart 1 22.9-10. The comment is of course a witticigm. Note the logical
contradiction that this playful invocation of nature creates. If the penis is
designed by nature for girls and the anus for mmen,how can a man use a boy’s
anus in the way nature intended (i. e. to be penetrated by men) and at the same
time use his own penis in the way nature intended (i. e. by penetrating a girl?
See chapters 1 and 5 for further fsucssion of this epigram together with
Martial’s humorous invocation of the paradigm of nature with regard to
masturbation. but if the humour was to succeed, the notion that a boy’s anus is
designed by nature for a man to penetrate cannot have seemed outrageous to
Martial’s readership. After all, the rhetorical goal of the epigram is to steer
tha man onto the path of right behaviour, the path which Martial’s won persona,
dutifully, even proudly, followed. This sort of comment – rather than the
passing remarks of such philosophers as Cicero, Seneca and Musonius Rufus,
reflects the mainstreat Roman understanding of what constitutes NORMATIVE and
NATURAL sexual beavhiour for a boy and for a man. It is significant, moreover,
that neither CCicero nor Seneca nor Musonius Rufus nor any other survinving
Roman text, philosophical or not, argues that a MAN’s *DESIRE* to penetrate a
boy is ‘contrary to nature’. Musonius, for one, speaks ony of the sexual act
(SUMPLOKAI). We return to the Epicurean perspective offered by Lucretius cited
in chapter i. SIC IGITUR VENERIS QUI TELIS ACCIPIT ICTUS SIVE PUER MEMBRIS
MULIEBRIBUS HUNC IACULATUR SEU MULIEUR TOTO IACTANS E CORPORE AMOREM UNDE
FERITUR EO TENDIT GESTITQUE COIR ET IACERE UMOREM IN CORPUS DE CORPRE DUCTUM.
Lucr. 4. 1052-6. This are lines from a poem dedicated to teaching its Roman
readers about ‘the nature of things’ (de rerum natura 1.25). cf. Boswell p. 149
“Lucretius’s De rerum natura dealt with the whole of ‘natura’ but it was the
‘rerum’ of things – which suggested to Latin readers what modern speakers mean
by ‘nature’”. Obviously the SUSCEPTIBILITY OF MEN to THE ALLURE of boys and
women is a PART OF THE NATURAL ORDER for Lucretius. The beams of atomic
particles that EMANATE from the bodies of boys and women and attract men to
them are an integral part of the nature of things. It is the mentalitly evident
in such diverse textsa Lucretius’s poetic treatise On the nature of Things,
Martial’s epigrams, and graffiti scrawled on ancient walls that we need to keep
in mind when we evaluate the comments of Musonius Rufus, Seneca, and Cicero.
These are the words of three philosophers. Cicero expounding on the danger s of
love, Senceca inveighing against the corrputions of the world around him, and Musonius
arguing that men should engage only in certain kind of sexual relations and
only with their wives, the goal being the production of legitimate offspring
and not the pursuit of pleasure. These pronouncements tell u something about
the world in which these three philosophers who made them lived, and about what
men and women in that world were actually doing. Seneca for example is hardly
fulminating about imaginary fices) but they tells us even more about Cicero,
Seneca, and Musoiuns, and their own philosophical allegiances We have every
reason to believe that comments like their rpersented a minoriy opinion.
Indeed, the men AGAINST whom Musonius argues, who believed that A MASTER has
absolute power to do ANYTHING HE WANTS to his slave, is precisel that man shoes
VOICE dominated the public discourse on sexual practice. Moreover, as Winkler (p.
21) trenchangly observers, Seneca’s condemnation of such ‘unnatural’ behaviour
as growing hothouse flowers or throwing nightime parties, ‘though articulated
as universal, is OBVIOUSLY DIRECTED AT A VERY SMALL AND WEALTHY ELITE – THOSE
WHO CAN AFFORD THE SORT OF LUXURIES Seneca wants ‘ALL MANKIND’ to do without”, It
is telling, too, that Cicero himself never makes this kind of APPEAL TO NATURA
in the SEXUAL INVECTIVE sscattered throughout the speeches he delivered in the
public arenas of the courtroom, Senate, or popular assembly (see chapter 5),
and that the argument appears NOWEHERE ELSE IN the considerable corpus of Seneca’s
moral treatises. Likewise, it is worth noting that Musonius Rufus’s who makes
the most extreme case, not only wrote his treatise in GREEK rather than Latin,
as if to underscore its distance from he everyday beliefs and practices of
Romans, but as a philosopher omitted to stoicis in a way that Cicero and and
Seneca are not. As Haexter reminds us, Cicero proposes manydifferent rhetorical
and philosophical positions in his speeches, letters, and dialogues, and
Seneca’s epistles to Lucilius offer a tentative and experimental mixture of
Stoicism and other philosophical schools (many of his earlier letters end with
quotations from Epicurus, for example). In any case, Boswell, cp. 130 citing
ancient sources claiming that the very founder of stoicism, Zeno, engaged in
sexual practices with males (perhaps even exclusively) tnote that many ancient
stoics actually seem to have considered the question of sexual praticess
between males to e ETHICALLY NEUTRAL. Finally, It is worth noting that both
Seneca and Cicero were thought not to have practiced what they prached. In a
discussion of how Seneca’s behaviour often stood in contracition to his own
teachings, the historian DIO CASSIUS observes that although he married well,
Seneca also “takes pleasure in older lads, and teachers Nero do to the same
thing, too”. Dio 61 10 4. Tas te aselgeias has praton gamon te epiphanestaton
egme kai meikarious exorois exaire kai tauto kai ton Nerona poietin edidaxe.
The historian goes on to insutate that Seneca fellated his partners,
speculating on the reason why refused to kiss Nero. One might imagine, Dio
notes, that this was because he was
gisuted by Nero’s penchant for oral sex. But that makes no sense given Seneca’s
own relations with his boyfriends (61 10
5 o gar toi monon an tis hupopteuseien hoti ouk ethele toiouto stoma philein
elegxketai ek ton paidikon autou pseudos on). The younger Pliny (Epist. 7.4) informs us that
Cicero addresses a love poem to his faithful slave and companion Tiro. Of
course neither of these pieces of information tells us anything about Cicero’s
or Seneca’s actual experiences. Cicero’s poem could have been a literary game
and the stories a out Seneca that constituted Dio’s source may well have been
unfounded gossip (For Cicero and Tiro, see McDermott and Richlin. P. 223,
Canatarella p. 103 assumes that they actually ENJOYED A sexual relationship)).
On the other hand, is it not impossible that Cicero actually DID experience
DESIRE for Tiro and that Seneca DID enjoy the company of MATURE MALE SEXUAL
PARTNERS. And abovre all it is important to recognize that later generations of
Romans (the younger Pliny and Dio) were willing to IMAGINE THOSE THINGS
HAPPENING. Dio’s gossipy remarks and Pliny’s comments on Cicero remind us of the cultural context in which a
philosopher’s allusion to NATURA must be placed. ( Paolo Casini. Keywords: naturismo, naturalismo,
natura, nazione, patto sociale, la legge naturale, l’uomo, contra natura. “antica
sapienza italica” razionalismo, la metafora della lume, illuminismo, Bruno, il
patto sociale -- Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Grice e Casini” – The
Swimming-Pool Library.
Grice e Casotti: l’implicatura
conversazionale del volere – filosofia fascista – filosofia italiana – Luigi
Speranza (Roma).
Filosofo italiano. Grice: “I like Casotti; of course, he reminds me of my
master at Clifton! Casotti is into the teaching of philosophy: did Socrates
teach Alcibiade or did Alcibiade learn from Socrate? On top, Casotti tried to
systematise WHAT you have to teach: his first volume is telling: ‘l’essere’,
which of course reminds me of my explorations on the multiplicity of being in
Aristtotle – a human being in an ‘essere,’ but my tutee A. G. N. Flew would scorn philosophers who use a verb
with an article “l’essere” – or a pronoun with an an emphatic word meaning
‘same’ – “the self!” Figlio di Enrico e Virginia Sciello. Studia s Pisa sotto
Amendola e Gentile. Con quest'ultimo si laurea con “La concezione idealistica
della storia” in cui esprimeva la propria entusiasta adesione alla dottrina
gentiliana dell'attualismo. Dopo aver
aderito all'appello Per un Fascio di Educazione Nazionale in vista di un
rinnovamento della scuola italiana, indirizza il proprio percorso professionale
in direzione della pedagogia, orientata alle teorie idealiste di Gentile, da
lui riprese e rielaborate anche nelle prime esperienze a Pisa e Torino.
Collabora nella redazione delle riviste Levana e La nuova scuola Italiana. Motivazioni personali, unite all'esigenza di
approccio più realista all'educazione, lo portano il ad allontanarsi in maniera
piuttosto repentina dalle posizioni idealistiche precedenti e ad aderire
all’aquinismo. Insegna a Milano, sviluppando una filosofia ispirata a
Lambruschini, Rosmini, e Bosco, basata sulla “perennis philosophia”
dell'aristotelismo aquinista. Egli
avversa da un lato l'attivismo e il naturalismo, recuperando l'importanza della
«lezione» e della «disciplina», in una prospettiva di insegnamento rivolta
all'«imitazione di un ideale regulativo». Dall'altro reinterpreta il rapporto
tutore/tutee nell'ottica di Alcibiade-Socrate. Contesta la pretesa dell'attualismo
gentiliano di risolverne il dualismo (tutore-tutee) in unità, concependolo
piuttosto come con-divisione di uno stesso cammino di crescita, incentrato su
una rivelazione, nel quale la filosofia è vista come un'arte, che consente il
passaggio dalla potenza all'atto. Fonda
la rivista Supplemento pedagogico a Scuola italiana moderna, rinominata in
Pedagogia e vita. Pubblicò in due volumi una sintesi della sua filosofia, che
vede la filosofia contraddistinta, «come arte» e “come disciplina” -- sia da un
aspetto etico, finalizzato a un ideale, sia da uno speculativo basato sulla
sperimentazione del metodo più oppurtuno da seguire e adattare alle difficoltà
del contesto. Altre opere: “La concezione
idealistica della storia” (Firenze, Vallecchi); Introduzione alla pedagogia,
Firenze, Vallecchi, La nuova pedagogia e i compiti dell'educazione, Firenze,
Vallecchi, Lettere sulla religione, Milano, Vita e Pensiero, La pedagogia di Lambruschini,
Milano, Vita e Pensiero); Il moralismo di Rousseau. Studio sulle idee
pedagogiche e morali di Rousseau, Milano, Vita e Pensiero, Maestro e scolaro.
Saggio di filosofia dell'educazione, Milano, Vita e Pensiero, La pedagogia d'Aquino.
Saggi di pedagogia generale, Brescia, La Scuola, Educazione cattolica, Brescia,
La Scuola, Scuola attiva, Brescia, La Scuola, La pedagogia di Rosmini e le sue
basi filosofiche, Milano, Vita e Pensiero, Didattica, Brescia, La Scuola, Pedagogia
generale, Brescia, La Scuola, Esiste la pedagogia?, Brescia, La Scuola, La
pedagogia del Vangelo, Brescia, La Scuola, Educare la volontà, Brescia, La
Scuola, Il metodo educativo di Don Bosco, Brescia, La Scuola, L'arte e
l'educazione all'arte, Brescia, La Scuola, Memorie e testimonianze Brescia, La
Scuola. Franco Cambi, Mario Casotti, su treccani. Appello per un "Fascio di educazione
Nazionale", su «L'educazione nazionale», Franco V. Lombardi, Filosofia e pedagogia
nel pensiero di Casotti. Dall'Idealismo alla Neoscolastica, Ugo Spirito, L'idealismo italiano e i suoi
critici, Firenze, Le Monnier, Maria Rossi, La pedagogia italiana contemporanea:
il pensiero di Casotti, in «Supplemento pedagogico», Filosofia e pedagogia nel
pensiero di Casotti, «Rivista di Filosofia Neo-Scolastica», Vita e Pensiero, Un pedagogista troppo presto
dimenticato. Casotti e l'arte educativa, «Osservatorio sul mercato del lavoro e
sulle professioni», Il rapporto
maestro-allievo nel confronto tra C. e Gentile, «CQIA rivistaFormazione,
lavoro, persona», Dizionario biografico degli italiani. Filosofia e pedagogia nel pensiero di C., «Rivista di Filosofia
Neo-Scolastica», Vita e Pensiero, Un pedagogista troppo presto
dimenticato. Casotti e l'arte educativa, «Osservatorio sul mercato del lavoro e
sulle professioni», Il rapporto maestro-allievo nel confronto tra Casotti
e Gentile, «CQIA rivistaFormazione, lavoro, persona», Dizionario biografico
degli italiani. 40 L’Appello per un Fascio di Educazione Nazionale, in « L '
Educazione Nazionale », L ' Idea Nazionale. vedere C., Dopo il Congresso
Nazionale, in « La Nostra Scuola », 1920, nn. 1 - È costituito un
Fascio di educazione nazionale fra gli insegnanti di ogni ordine e grado e fra
i cultori dei problemi concernenti la... Sullo stesso fascicolo rispondeva a
Pellizzi Mario Casotti, il quale riconosceva l'opportunità di abbandonare...
Casotti Mario, La nuova pedagogia e i compiti dell'educazione moderna,
Vallecchi, Firenze, 1923. Mazzoni Elda, L ' idealismo... GENTILE Il Fascismo al
governo della Scuola, Sandron, Palermo, Casotti makes a dramatic break with
actualism early in his career. A tutee of Gentile, he nevertheless underwent a
conversion in the 1920's and was called to teach pedagogy at Milan in 1924.
There he worked with Neo-Thomist scholars and produced works on education with
a distinct orientation. He is particularly remembered as the founder and
director of the review Pedagogia e vita, a journal that took on new importance
in the postwar years. A spiritualist who came out of the idealist tradition, he
is considered a pioneer in neospiritualist pedagogy, taught in Pisa and Turin;
he underwent a conversion, and was called to the chair of pedagogy a Milan. He
produced critiques of idealism from a neoscholastic point of view. Eventually,
he began a systematic study of divided into three parts: teleology (the aim or
end); anthropology (study of the philosophical tutee); and methodology. In his
"anthropological" writings, he defends personalism against idealism
and materialism. He was a contributor to and editor of the education journal
Scuola italiana moderna. He encouraged systematic child study in a way that
later became more widespread among Italian philosophers. AQUINO Saggi di
filosofia generale INDICE Prefazione, La Pedagogia di Aquino, L'educazione
naturale, L'anima della pedagogia, Filosofia, Religione e " Filosofie
" nelle Scuole Medie, Pedagogia cattolica, L'Insegnamento religioso nelle
Scuole elementary. Non c'è nulla al mondo di tanto noioso come un autore che si
ripete: pure non osiamo presentare ai benevoli lettori questa raccolta di
saggi, senza richiamare, sia pur nella maniera più breve possibile, un concetto
fondamentale da noi svolto in altri nostri lavori. Questo: che la filosofia in
Italia, e anche in un periodo indubbiamente per lei rigoglioso come fu il
secolo XIX, ha sofferto, e soffre tuttavia, per aver lasciato cadere, o non
aver saputo riprendere con sufficiente energia il filo di quella grandissima
tradizione dottrinale che doveva ricongiungerla alla Scolastica, e, in essa, al
più grande maestro: Aquino. Altre volte vi abbiamo accennato, ed ora non
ripeteremo le ragioni per cui, mentre i maggiori scolastici moderni non
trattavano se non fuggevolmente il problema della filosofia, i filosofi più noti o non assurgevano a un concetto
filosofico della pedagogia, o, in ogni caso, non si mostravano abbastanza
agguerriti sul terreno della filosofia scolastica. E' cessato oggi, questo
stato di cose? Non pretendiamo dare adesso un frettoloso giudizio. Però, salta,
per così dire, agli occhi di qualunque imparziale osservatore, che la pedagogia
cattolica italiana contemporanea, non certo povera, come qualcuno ama credere,
di nomi e di opere, è lungi tuttavia dall'esser ricca come si desidererebbe, di
trattazioni aventi un carattere rigidamente filosofico e speculativo. Inutile
stare a discutere e a cercare, più o meno sottilmente, le cause di questo
fatto. Trattandosi d'una realtà contemporanea, che si svolge sotto i nostri
occhi, piuttosto che discutere, è meglio fare o, almeno, ingegnarsi di fare, è
anche più simpatico e toglie a un modesto autore la noiosa responsabilità
d'andar criticando e censurando a destra e sinistra. Fare: non certo perché gli
altri ci debbano prendere a modello, anzi perché, dissodato alla meglio il
campo, con minor fatica e maggior profitto altri lo possano lavorare dopo
di noi. Ecco perché Aquino è il soggetto del primo saggio qui raccolto e,
insieme, il titolo del volume, e San Tommaso d'Aquino è ancora - possiamo dirlo
- il pensiero dominante che circola per tutti gli altri, e li stringe in una
intima unità la quale non può sfuggire allo sguardo dell'attento lettore. La
pedagogia di S. Tommaso non è stata studiata da noi con intento, vorremmo dire,
archeologico, quasi per scoprire e mettere in mostra un degno monumento d'un
passato glorioso, bensì per mostrare i numerosi, attualissimi problemi che un
pensiero, eternamente giovane, dell'immortale giovinezza della verità, suscita
quando lo si ripensa in relazione ai nuovi bisogni dello spirito moderno. Or
non è molto, giudicando il movimento contemporaneo della ècole active, qualche
studioso asseriva che i più sani principi onde va tanto orgogliosa l'educazione
moderna, si trovano già in San Tommaso. Affermazione verissima, che però va
subito completata con quest'altra: ciò che di più vacuo e superficiale v'ha
nelle teorie pedagogiche recentissime, quel continuo riempirsi la bocca di
parole vane ed imprecise, quel parlare a sproposito di autoeducazione, di
libertà, di «creazione», quell’ingenuo ottimismo naturalistico, che fa
dell'alunno e del bambino un mezzo Dio (naturalismo denunciato testé nella
Enciclica Pontificia sull'educazione) trovano già in San Tommaso il critico più
deciso e radicale che si possa desiderare. E la sua critica al concetto stesso,
oggi tanto in voga, di «autoeducazione», va meditata, seriamente, se non si
vuol correre il rischio, attratti dalla novità, di accettare addirittura, come
cattoliche, tutte le teorie della école active! Con ciò mi sembra anche di
avere amichevolmente risposto al Lombardo-Radice, o, meglio, all'Educazione
Nazionale che in poche e benevole parole dedicate al mio libro Maestro e
Scolaro, mi annoverava fra gli «attivisti». Sì, "attivista", se così
volete: ma alla maniera d'Aquino, e non a quella del Ferrière. Sì, con voi se
acconsentite a mettere il termine «attività» al posto del termine
«autoeducazione», e il termine «spontaneità» al posto del termine «creazione»,
che conviene solo a Dio.Amico vostro finché studiate, in concreto, i mezzi
migliori per garantire, nella scuola, l'effettivo lavoro e la gioiosa
collaborazione dello scolaro: nemico, cortese, ma fierissimo, quando quello
sforzo gioioso ignora, o, peggio, disprezza, la salutare frusta della
mortificazione cristiana, e diventa cosi - uso ancora l'espressione della
Enciclica Pontificia - «naturalistico», anche se giustificato da teorie più o
meno idealistiche. Amico vostro quando vi preoccupate, giustamente, della
educazione religiosa; nemico fierissimo quando gabellate il cristianesimo per
un tetro «moralismo», e gli volete sostituire un dio fantasma, inafferrabile,
che il Ferrière identifica addirittura, o poco ci manca, con l'élan vital
bergsoniano. La filosofia d'Aquino! Quando penso alle immancabili smorfie colle
quali certi critici accoglieranno questa frase, ch'è tutto un programma di
rinnovamento e di risanamento, ho un rimpianto, sì, ma non quello che i
suddetti critici s'aspetterebbero. Rimpiango di non essermi, se mai, ispirato
abbastanza, in questi saggi che pur vogliono essere un modesto tentativo di
pedagogia cristiana, al pensiero del grande Aquinate; rimpiango che il mio
discepolato verso un tanto maestro, non abbia potuto riuscire, qua e là, più
fedele e generoso. E se qualcosa può consolarmi, è la certezza che la mia
fatica non sarà stata vana, se risparmierà agli altri lunghe e faticose
ricerche per arrivare solo in fine a ciò che avrebbe dovuto essere il punto di
partenza: una conoscenza esatta delle teorie elaborate, intorno all'educazione,
dal Dottore Angelico AQUINO BRESCIA, Editrice “La Scuola”, La Pedagogia
di S. Tommaso d'Aquino L'Educazione naturale 93 L'Anima della pedagogia 125
Filosofia, Religione e " Filosofie " nelle Scuole Medie 163 Pedagogia
cattolica 195 L'Insegnamento religioso nelle Scuole elementari Non c'è nulla al
mondo di tanto noioso come un autore che si ripete: pure non osiamo presentare
ai benevoli lettori questa raccolta di saggi, senza richiamare, sia pur nella
maniera più breve possibile, un concetto fondamentale da noi svolto in altri
nostri lavori. Questo: che la pedagogia cattolica in Italia, e anche in un
periodo indubbiamente per lei rigoglioso come fu il secolo XIX, ha sofferto, e
soffre tuttavia, per aver lasciato cadere, o non aver saputo riprendere con
sufficiente energia il filo di quella grandissima tradizione dottrinale che
doveva ricongiungerla alla Scolastica, e, in essa, al più grande maestro: San
Tommaso d'Aquino. Altre volte vi abbiamo accennato, ed ora non ripeteremo
le ragioni per cui, mentre i maggiori scolastici moderni non trattavano se non
fuggevolmente il problema dell'educazione, i pedagogisti cattolici più noti o
non assurgevano a un concetto filosofico della pedagogia, o, in ogni caso, non
si mostravano abbastanza agguerriti sul terreno della filosofia scolastica. E'
cessato oggi, questo stato di cose? Non pretendiamo dare adesso un frettoloso
giudizio. Però, salta, per così dire, agli occhi di qualunque imparziale
osservatore, che la pedagogia cattolica italiana contemporanea, non certo
povera, come qualcuno ama credere, di nomi e di opere, è lungi tuttavia
dall'esser ricca come si desidererebbe, di trattazioni aventi un carattere
rigidamente filosofico e speculativo. Inutile stare a discutere e a
cercare, più o meno sottilmente, le cause di questo fatto. Trattandosi d'una
realtà contemporanea, che si svolge sotto i nostri occhi, piuttosto che
discutere, è meglio fare o, almeno, ingegnarsi di fare, è anche più simpatico e
toglie a un modesto autore la noiosa responsabilità d'andar criticando e
censurando a destra e sinistra. Fare: non certo perché gli altri ci debbano
prendere a modello, anzi perché, dissodato alla meglio il campo, con minor
fatica e maggior profitto altri lo possano lavorare dopo di noi.
Ecco perché San Tommaso d'Aquino è il soggetto del primo saggio qui raccolto e,
insieme, il titolo del volume, e San Tommaso d'Aquino è ancora - possiamo dirlo
- il pensiero dominante che circola per tutti gli altri, e li stringe in una
intima unità la quale non può sfuggire allo sguardo dell'attento lettore. La
pedagogia di S. Tommaso non è stata studiata da noi con intento, vorremmo dire,
archeologico, quasi per scoprire e mettere in mostra un degno monumento d'un
passato glorioso, bensì per mostrare i numerosi, attualissimi problemi che un
pensiero, eternamente giovane, dell'immortale giovinezza della verità, suscita
quando lo si ripensa in relazione ai nuovi bisogni dello spirito moderno.
Or non è molto, giudicando il movimento contemporaneo della ècole active,
qualche studioso asseriva che i più sani principi onde va tanto orgogliosa
l'educazione moderna, si trovano già in San Tommaso. Affermazione verissima,
che però va subito completata con quest'altra: ciò che di più vacuo e
superficiale v'ha nelle teorie pedagogiche recentissime, quel continuo
riempirsi la bocca di parole vane ed imprecise, quel parlare a sproposito di
autoeducazione, di libertà, di «creazione», quell’ingenuo ottimismo
naturalistico, che fa dell'alunno e del bambino un mezzo Dio (naturalismo
denunciato testé nella Enciclica Pontificia sull'educazione) trovano già in San
Tommaso il critico più deciso e radicale che si possa desiderare. E la sua
critica al concetto stesso, oggi tanto in voga, di «autoeducazione», va
meditata, seriamente, se non si vuol correre il rischio, attratti dalla novità,
di accettare addirittura, come cattoliche, tutte le teorie della école
active! Con ciò mi sembra anche di avere amichevolmente risposto al
Lombardo-Radice, o, meglio, all'Educazione Nazionale che in poche e benevole
parole dedicate al mio libro Maestro e Scolaro, mi annoverava fra gli
«attivisti». Sì, "attivista", se così volete: ma alla maniera di S.
Tommaso d'Aquino, e non a quella del Ferrière. Sì, con voi se acconsentite a
mettere il termine «attività» al posto del termine «autoeducazione», e il termine
«spontaneità» al posto del termine «creazione», che conviene solo a Dio. Amico
vostro finché studiate, in concreto, i mezzi migliori per garantire, nella
scuola, l'effettivo lavoro e la gioiosa collaborazione dello scolaro: nemico,
cortese, ma fierissimo, quando quello sforzo gioioso ignora, o, peggio,
disprezza, la salutare frusta della mortificazione cristiana, e diventa cosi -
uso ancora l'espressione della Enciclica Pontificia - «naturalistico», anche se
giustificato da teorie più o meno idealistiche. Amico vostro quando vi
preoccupate, giustamente, della educazione religiosa; nemico fierissimo quando
gabellate il cristianesimo per un tetro «moralismo», e gli volete sostituire un
dio fantasma, inafferrabile, che il Ferrière identifica addirittura, o poco ci
manca, con l'élan vital bergsoniano. La pedagogia di San Tommaso
d'Aquino! Quando penso alle immancabili smorfie colle quali certi critici
accoglieranno questa frase, ch'è tutto un programma di rinnovamento e di
risanamento, ho un rimpianto, sì, ma non quello che i suddetti critici
s'aspetterebbero. Rimpiango di non essermi, se mai, ispirato abbastanza, in
questi saggi che pur vogliono essere un modesto tentativo di pedagogia
cristiana, al pensiero del grande Aquinate; rimpiango che il mio discepolato
verso un tanto maestro, non abbia potuto riuscire, qua e là, più fedele e
generoso. E se qualcosa può consolarmi, è la certezza che la mia fatica non
sarà stata vana, se risparmierà agli altri lunghe e faticose ricerche per
arrivare solo in fine a ciò che avrebbe dovuto essere il punto di partenza: una
conoscenza esatta delle teorie elaborate, intorno all'educazione, dal Dottore
Angelico. Da quelle teorie, anche così come le abbiamo prese e tentato di
rivivere, emana già una luce che non può essere, come i nostri avversari
vorrebbero, la luce scialba d'un crepuscolo che preceda la notte d'un passato
morente, ma è la luce vivida dell'alba, che precede il giorno nuovo pieno di
speranze e di promesse. A coloro che nel riprendere il pensiero di S.
Tommaso e, in genere, della scolastica, vedono un pericolo per la libertà e
l'originalità della ricerca scientifica s'è già risposto, e nel nostro volume
Maestro e Scolaro e, qui, nel saggio Religione, filosofia e « filosofie » nelle
scuole medie. Ora vogliamo ricordare, per finire, che non certo la pedagogia
cattolica si può accusare di scarsa originalità. L'alba del giorno nuovo
illumina delle figure che giganteggiano già nella storia della moderna
educazione: basta menzionare Don Bosco, la cui grandezza e fecondità, anche come
teorico e pedagogista, si comincia appena adesso a scoprire. Le numerose opere
della pedagogia cristiana aspettano solo chi le studi, le illustri, le faccia
conoscere al pubblico studioso, con quello stesso amore che altri mettono
nell'illustrare le più piccole iniziative delle scuole nuove o rinnovate. Anche
questa volta i figli del mondo sono stati più abili ed intelligenti dei figli
di Dio. Ma non sarà sempre così. Cortemaggiore (Piacenza) Convento di S.
Francesco, 4 Gennaio 1931, nella Festa del SS. Nome di Gesù. NOTA. - I saggi
che si raccolgono in questo volume furono tutti pubblicati, a vario intervallo
di tempo, dal 1925 in poi sulla Rivista Scuola Italiana Moderna. Eccezion fatta
pei seguenti: L'Educazione naturale (Relazione presentata alla XVII Settimana
Sociale dei cattolici italiani, Firenze 1927, e apparsa negli Atti); L'anima
della pedagogia (Rivista di filosofia neoscolastica, 1925) e Pedagogia
cattolica (Rivista Levana, Firenze 1923). La Pedagogia di S. Tommaso
d'Aquino Esiste una pedagogia di S. Tommaso d'Aquino? E si può, senza
temer di cadere nelle solite esagerazioni che ci fanno attribuire troppo spesso
ai grandi uomini del nostro cuore una sapienza sterminata ed estesa un po' a
tutto l’universo scibile umano, asserire che il dottore angelico abbia segnato,
anche nel campo delle teorie sull' educazione, l'impronta di quell'altissimo
ingegno che, stringendo insieme cielo e terra costruiva un edificio di dottrina
al quale le età venture avrebbero guardato sempre con commossa riverenza, quasi
a testimonianza imperitura di quel che possa la scienza quando si congiunge
colla fede? Fortunatamente, la risposta a tale domanda non ammette dubbi di
sorta. Ché nella vastissima opera dell'Aquinate non solo la pedagogia c'è, in
quanto dappertutto vi si possono cogliere spunti di teorie sull'educazione, in
ordine a tutta la concezione dell'uomo e della realtà e al fine della vita, ma
c'è anche come problema esplicitamente discusso e risolto con tale rigore
scientifico e con tali esigenze critiche che dovranno passare dei secoli, nella
storia della pedagogia, prima che sia possibile riprenderlo, quello stesso
problema, colle medesime esigenze. Il problema, infatti, che San Tommaso
affronta nel suo De magistro è un problema di per sé così delicato e difficile
che solo rare volte, e in periodi di cultura filosofica molto diffusa, i
pedagogisti anche più valenti riescono a proporselo con tutta la
chiarezza desiderabile. E questo perché i pedagogisti sono premuti di
solito dalla necessità di risolvere altre questioni più particolari e
delimitate che loro sembrano e forse, sotto un certo aspetto, anche sono più
urgenti, come quelle che riguardano l'organizzazione pratica dell'educazione, i
metodi e via dicendo. Tutte questioni che non si possono, certo, risolvere
senza far capo a un concetto filosofico dell' educazione, ma che spesso
permettono, questo concetto, di sottintenderlo e di presupporlo, o di
discuterlo, se mai, solo a proposito di quei particolari problemi pedagogici e
didattici che si stanno trattando, piuttosto che di stabilirlo e discuterlo
direttamente, per se stesso. Ciò spiega come mai le più celebri opere che la
storia della pedagogia ricorda, dalla Didattica magna del Comenius ai Pensieri
sull'educazione del Locke, all'Emilio del Rousseau, alla Education Progressive
della Necker de Saussure, efficacissime nel descrivere e nell'analizzare in
concreto il processo educativo, riescano tutte quanto mai deboli ed inefficaci
nello stabilire, con sicuro metodo, una definizione dell'educazione che giunga
ad appagarci sotto l'aspetto filosofico. Siamo, quasi, costretti a riconoscere
che, se la pedagogia e la didattica sono antichissime, la filosofia
dell'educazione è ancora bambina: ed era, forse, necessaria la rude scossa data
dall' idealismo italiano contemporaneo col suo paradosso, gravido di verità,
della identificazione completa tra filosofia e pedagogia, perché le indagini di
filosofia dell'educazione riacquistassero, nella cultura pedagogica odierna,
quel posto di prim'ordine che debbono avere. Questo breve preambolo
occorreva per fare intendere che il problema pedagogico, così come San Tommaso
lo annette, potremmo dire, alla filosofia scolastica, sotto il classico titolo
«De magistro», è appunto il maggior problema della pedagogia, trattato con tutto
quel rigore scientifico e filosofico che potrebbe desiderare, oggi, uno
studioso. Non si tratta neppure della domanda: «che cosa è l'educazione?»
domanda alla quale, in fondo, è dato rispondere anche restando sul terreno
sperimentale, ma dell'altra e ben più difficile domanda: «come è possibile
l'educazione?». Che l'educazione avvenga è un fatto che si può analizzare e
descrivere sotto i più diversi aspetti, ma poi la filosofia deve sapere che
cosa valga questo atto e quali siano le ragioni che lo spiegano e che lo
rendono intelligibile. Ora, per arrivare a porre il problema così, bisogna
cominciare dal compiere una certa astrazione (non spaventi questa parola oggi
tanto malfamata) sui dati del problema educativo quale, a prima vista, ci è
offerto dall'esperienza, bisogna, cioè, prescindere per un momento da tutte
quelle particolari circostanze che rendono così interessanti e suggestivi,
nella pratica, i problemi didattici, e avere il coraggio di ridurre
l'educazione stessa alla sua più semplice espressione, a ciò che di veramente
essenziale e caratteristico v'ha nel processo educativo, a ciò da cui non è
possibile, davvero, prescindere, senza annullare o sfigurare gravemente
l'educazione medesima. Il che viene poi ad essere un puro e semplice rapporto
fra un soggetto che insegna ed un soggetto che impara, fra un soggetto che
possiede determinate cognizioni od attitudini, e un soggetto che da lui riceve
queste stesse cognizioni o attitudini che prima non possedeva: fra il maestro,
cioè, e lo scolaro. Ebbene, domandare come è possibile l'educazione non
significa altro che domandare come è possibile questo rapporto fra due soggetti
pensanti, in virtù del quale l'uno può all'altro trasmettere determinate
cognizioni ed attitudini. Ed ecco la cerchia entro la quale si svolge la
ricerca del De Magistro di San Tommaso: ricerca che, appunto per questa sua
rigorosa impostazione critica, sembra come anticipare i risultati delle più
moderne e scaltrite filosofie dell'educazione. * * * Posto così, il
problema dell' educazione ha suscitato, si può dire, in ogni tempo, e ogni
volta che qualche pensatore l'ha approfondito, alcune serie difficoltà, oggi
note a tutti, ma il formulare precisamente le quali è costato alla filosofia
dell' educazione uno sforzo non indifferente. Poiché il chiedere soltanto come
è possibile che un soggetto (il maestro) comunichi ad un altro soggetto (lo
scolaro) determinate cognizioni ed attitudini sembra implicare, se non
addirittura una contraddizione, certo una difficoltà quasi insormontabile, dato
che il termine «trasmettere» o «comunicare» o qualsiasi altro termine consimile
che si adoperi a definire l'azione del maestro sullo scolaro, non sembra possa
riflettere, se non in maniera molto imprecisa e grossolana, ciò ch'è veramente
caratteristico del processo educativo. Se si trattasse, infatti, di un oggetto
materiale, allora parrebbe a tutti chiarissimo ch'esso potesse comunicarsi,
trasmettersi o cambiar sede, come una moneta che passa di mano in mano, ma
nell'educazione ciò che si trasmette è essenzialmente un valore ideale e
immateriale, come la scienza e la virtù. E questi valori tanto poco si lasciano
«trasmettere», nel significato materiale della parola (poiché essi hanno la
loro base in un atto interno del pensiero e del soggetto pensante), e un atto
di tal genere è tanto impossibile trasportarlo da un soggetto ad un altro
soggetto, quanto è impossibile che un soggetto trasmetta ad un altro ciò che
costituisce la sua intima personalità, sì che Tizio diventi Caio o Socrate si
tramuti in Alcibiade. E allora, al pensatore che sperimenta questa difficoltà,
si affaccia spontanea una ipotesi che sembra semplificare nel miglior modo
l'intricato problema, troncando alla radice ogni obiezione ed incertezza. Dato
che la difficoltà prima nasce dall'aver concepito educatore ed educando come
due soggetti distinti, perché non togliere addirittura di mezzo la dualità
stessa, e concepire l'educazione come lo svolgimento d'un unico soggetto che,
invece di ricevere il sapere dall'esterno, lo sviluppa dall'interno? Teoria
antica per lo meno quanto la correlativa difficoltà, poiché ad essa si può
ridurre già la maieutica socratica, e perché, fra l'altro, con l'intento di
stabilirla su salde basi, Platone costruiva la sua celebre teoria della
reminiscenza (mentovata, appunto, nel De Magistro tomistico) e lo schiavo
ch'egli immaginava interrogato da Socrate nel Menone aveva proprio il compito
di servire a dimostrare, indirettamente, la tesi che l'opera del maestro
consiste nello stimolare o nell'aiutare la mente del discepolo perché cerchi,
e, cercando, cavi fuori la scienza che ha già in sé, non nel pretender di
trasmettere al discepolo una scienza bell'e fatta. Che è poi e in Socrate e in
Platone e più tardi in tutta la pedagogia moderna, la dottrina che va per la maggiore,
la dottrina dell'autodidattica, o, come anche si dice, dell’autoeducazione:
dottrina, cioè, che riduce l'educazione ad autoeducazione, qualunque sia poi la
concezione filosofica colla quale pensa di confortare tale riduzione. La teoria
dell'autodidattica infatti (e questo è appunto uno dei motivi che hanno più
contribuito alla sua diffusione) permette una grande varietà e latitudine di
giustificazioni filosofiche, dal misticismo, se così si può chiamarlo, che
immagina il sapere infuso da Dio direttamente allo spirito umano e da questo
via via scoperto e reso esplicito mediante l'opera dell'educazione, al
soggettivismo estremo il quale crede che il pensiero nostro crei liberamente la
sua scienza nell'atto stesso del pensarla e non possa perciò ricevere dall'
insegnamento e dalla scuola, altro che uno stimolo a tale creazione, o per dir
meglio, alla chiara consapevolezza di questa creatività, che costituisce la sua
essenza, e della quale non può mai spogliarsi. II Ora, di dottrine che
potevano concludere in qualche modo un sistema di autodidattica S. Tommaso ne
aveva presenti due. Molto diverse, è vero, per valore e significato, tanto
diverse, anzi, quanto può essere diversa una dottrina vera, e vera di una
profonda verità, ma incompleta, un errore aperto e tutto contesto di acuti ma
inconsistenti sofismi. Basta ricordare che l'uno era la dottrina esposta da
Sant'Agostino nel suo De Magistro e l'altro era l'averroismo: quella
interpretazione di Aristotele che, movendo dal pensiero del grande stagirita attraverso
il commento di Averroè e degli altri commentatori arabi, finiva in un sistema
panteistico, mezzo idealista e mezzo naturalista, che sembrava anticipare in
pieno medioevo la crisi ideale della quale dovrà poi tanto soffrire il pensiero
moderno. Basta, diciamo, ricordare questo per intendere subito il diverso
atteggiamento che l'Aquinate doveva prendere verso l'una e verso l'altra delle
due dottrine, pur essendo costretto necessariamente a ravvicinarle nel corso di
quella discussione dalla quale dovevano limpidamente scaturire i concetti
fondamentali della pedagogia tomistica. Il De Magistro di Agostino è a
sua volta, non meno del De Magistro tomistico, tenuto conto, si capisce, d'ogni
differenza e di tempo e d'ambiente e di mentalità, un modello nel suo genere.
Modello d'una ricerca che non si arresta neppure essa, come non si arresterà
poi l'indagine di Tommaso, ai particolari problemi della pedagogia e della
didattica, ma ascende subito al problema massimo su cui s'appoggia la filosofia
dell' educazione. “Come è l'educazione possibile?” S. Agostino, né più né meno
di S. Tommaso, incomincia da questa domanda. “Come è possibile, cioè che un
soggetto (il maestro) comunichi ad un altro soggetto (lo scolaro) determinate
cognizioni?” L'indagine del De Magistro agostiniano prende in esame il mezzo
principale e più appariscente, che sembra appunto garantire tale comunicazione
tra il maestro e lo scolaro, non meno che tra gli uomini in genere: il
linguaggio. Sembra, infatti, che proprio la parola, parlata o scritta, con
tutto il corteggio di altre espressioni grafiche, foniche, mimiche ond'è
accompagnata, debba essere per eccellenza il veicolo attraverso il quale, se
così può dirsi, la scienza passa dal docente al discente; talché chi mette la
mano su questo problema ha, di necessità, la strada aperta ad una esauriente
critica delle forme nelle quali si costituisce e si svolge normalmente
l'espressione didattica. Sennonché la vigorosa e geniale ricerca sul
linguaggio perseguita nel De Magistro agostiniano, e alla quale non si può
rimproverare altro che, talvolta, di indulgere a qualche sottigliezza eccessiva
(spiegabile del resto, col carattere stesso dell'opera che, piuttosto che una
esposizione compiuta d'una dottrina vuol essere ed è una magnifica realizzazione
di metodo socratico) finisce, chi ben guardi, non solo col dichiarare il
linguaggio uno strumento inservibile per la trasmissione della scienza dal
maestro allo scolaro, ma anche collo svalutare, volta a volta, tutti gli altri
mezzi dei quali il magistero umano si serve per rendere più concreta ed
efficace la parola stessa. Sembra, è vero, che il maestro possa, per insegnare
allo scolaro, servirsi di cose oltre che di parole, come ha sempre creduto la
pedagogia, nei suoi sforzi verso un metodo «intuitivo» od «oggettivo», ma in
realtà Agostino adduce contro quella pretesa un argomento molto forte, del
quale S. Tommaso farà poi gran conto. Il mostrare una cosa non ci dice, per sé,
quale sia l'elemento essenziale e quali gli elementi accidentali della cosa stessa:
così se io cammino per mostrare ad altri che sia il camminare, gli spettatori
potranno forse prendere per essenza della mia deambulazione l'andatura più
lenta o più frettolosa ch'io ho tenuto e credere che il camminare sia, per
esempio, l'affrettarsi. E se voglio evitare l'equivoco devo ricorrere
alle parole o ad altri segni affini, poiché, effettivamente, anche nel mostrare
una cosa debbo servirmi di segni che non sono identici alla cosa stessa, e se,
poniamo, per spiegare che cos'è la parete la indico col dito tacendo, il mio
dito teso a indicare non è la parete, ma un segno della parete: né più né meno
della parola trisillaba «parete» [Cfr. S. agostino: De Magistro Cap. III, 5 e
6]. Segni sensibili: ecco la natura del linguaggio, parlato, scritto,
mimico o grafico che sia. Ora, i segni hanno appunto questo inconveniente: che,
quando noi li percepiamo, o li conoscevamo già oppure non conoscevamo le cose
ch'essi significano. Se le conoscevamo, allora i segni ci servono, ma non
inducono in noi nessuna nuova cognizione, se non le conoscevamo, i segni non ci
dicono nulla e diventano affatto inutili. La parola latina saraballae, ad
esempio, è un segno che non mi significa niente, proprio perché io non so che
saraballae erano chiamate certe fogge di copricapi. Bisogna, dunque, che già
l'abbia saputo, e l'ho potuto sapere non col mezzo di altre parole, ma perché
già sapevo che cosa è il capo e che sono i copricapi, per aver visto l'uno e
gli altri. Anzi, nemmeno la parola «capo» la prima volta che la udii mi disse
nulla, e fu necessario ch'io la mettessi in relazione con quella cosa già da me
conosciuta ch'era la testa mia o d'altri, per intendere il suo significato [Op.
cit. Cap. X, 33, 34]. E allora non sono i segni che fanno intender le cose, ma,
al contrario, le cose che fanno intendere i segni; e il linguaggio del maestro
che è, anch'esso, un sistema di segni, ben lungi dal procurare allo scolaro una
scienza ch'egli non possedeva, può significargli qualche cosa solo in ordine
alla scienza ch'egli aveva già. Il che vuol dire ottenere un risultato nullo
quanto alla sola cosa che ci premeva: la possibilità d'una effettiva
comunicazione e trasmissione di scienza dal maestro allo scolaro. Ed ecco
la conclusione. Le parole non possono essere veicolo di scienza dal maestro
allo scolaro, perché sono puri segni sensibili, invece la scienza non è un
segno o una cosa sensibile, ma un atto interno della mente, alla quale appare
la verità o la falsità delle nozioni che le vengono date «Che se per i colori
consultiamo la luce, e per le altre cose che sentiamo attraverso il corpo
consultiamo gli elementi di questo mondo... per le cose intelligibili noi
consultiamo con la ragione la verità interiore». E che cos'è questa verità?
«...colui che è consultato insegna: quel Cristo che fu detto abitare nell'uomo
interiore, cioè l'immutabile Virtù ed eterna Sapienza di Dio; chi consulta, del
resto, ogni anima ragionevole; ma tanto a ciascuno si apre, quanto ciascuno può
prenderla secondo la propria o cattiva o buona volontà» [Op. cit. cap. XI, 38 e
XII, 39]. Che significa, appunto, concludere a una vera e propria
autoeducazione nella quale non il maestro, ma solo Dio infonde direttamente il
sapere allo spirito umano, ch'è precisamente, come abbiamo notato altra volta,
una delle possibili giustificazioni, in sede filosofica, dell'autodidattica, e
si trova, un pò come tutta la filosofia agostiniana, sulla stessa linea del
platonismo e, in questo caso, della sua celebre teoria della
reminiscenza. Dio, dunque, è l'unico maestro dell'uomo: l'unico maestro
al quale non faccia ostacolo quella tale difficoltà della comunicazione fra
soggetto docente e soggetto discente. Affermazione giustissima certo, sotto
l'aspetto positivo, in quanto non solo si deve riconoscere che Dio può
insegnare imprimendo senz'altro nella mente il lume intellettuale e la verità,
ma appare evidente che il magistero divino debba essere la causa prima e il
fine ultimo di ogni magistero umano. Ma affermazione insufficiente sotto
l'aspetto negativo, poiché, in fondo, arriva a negare addirittura la
possibilità dell'educazione e a dichiarare insolubile il problema, dal quale ha
preso le mosse, dei rapporti fra maestro e scolaro. Nonostante gli spunti
geniali della sua ricerca, Agostino non riesce che a far sentire più acute e
tormentose le difficoltà del problema stesso, cioè, in ultima analisi, a farci
desiderare con maggiore intensità una soluzione veramente razionale, che è
infatti il grandissimo merito del De Magistro agostiniano. S. Tommaso dovrà
precisare, dovrà, talora, rettificare dovrà, soprattutto, procedere oltre; ma
la sua pedagogia non potrebbe poggiare così in alto, se l'opera di Agostino non
le offrisse già una base sicura: l'impostazione rigorosamente critica del
problema, che il De Magistro tomistico riprenderà tale e quale. III
L'altra corrente filosofica alla quale guardava San Tommaso nell'impostare il
problema del suo De Magistro è, certo, ben lungi dall'avere la chiarezza o,
meglio la molteplicità di documenti e di manifestazioni che oggi permettono a
noi di accostarci con tanto profitto al pensiero agostiniano. Poiché, ancora,
il Renan nella sua opera su Averroé e l'averroismo era costretto a considerare
l'averroismo piuttosto come una tendenza dottrinale da ricostruirsi attraverso
le confutazioni che ne avevano fatto gli avversari, che come un insieme di
teorie positivamente sostenute negli scritti di determinati autori. Studi più
recenti hanno cambiato questo stato di cose: dopo il notissimo saggio del
Mandonnet su Sigieri di Brabante, oggi noi conosciamo non soltanto i nomi di
alcuni averroisti, ma possediamo alcuni testi di notevole interesse, i quali ci
permettono, in ogni caso, di asserire che l'averroismo latino fu, almeno dopo
il 1230, qualcosa di ben più reale e concreto che una semplice tendenza. Il
che, del resto, appare chiaramente, per non dir altro, dalla differenza che
passa già, in questo ordine di idee, fra il trattato di Alberto Magno De
unitate intellectus, e l'omonimo trattato di S. Tommaso d'Aquino, scritto
quindici anni dopo: dove l'uno è costretto in certo modo a escogitare lui le
tesi averroiste fondandosi sugli scritti dei peripatetici, l'altro mostra di
polemizzare contro una dottrina avversaria ben costituita ed effettivamente
insegnata. In ogni modo, però, la conoscenza che abbiamo oggi dell'averroismo è
ancora ben lungi dall'essere soddisfacente, sia pur solo in ordine ai numerosi
problemi che fa sorgere in noi l’interpretazione di San Tommaso, ed è certo da
augurare e da sperare che nuovi testi averroistici possano essere dati alla
luce in un prossimo avvenire. Cosa che permetterebbe di studiare con maggior
esattezza la stessa filosofia dell'educazione, esposta da S. Tommaso, e nella
questione disputata De Veritate (della quale fa parte il De Magistro) e nella
questione 117 della Summa Theologica (Parte Ia). Poiché e nell' una e nell'
altra San Tommaso attacca l'averroismo intorno al problema dei rapporti fra
maestro e scolaro, e della possibilità che un uomo riceva scienza da un altro
uomo. Ora, l'averroismo aveva effettivamente prodotto qualche opera nella quale
quel problema fosse, di proposito, esaminato, oppure, come adesso sembra più
probabile, si trattava di conseguenze implicite in tutta la dottrina
averroistica? Evidentemente, solo i progressi futuri della storiografia filosofica
intorno all'averroismo potranno permettere una risposta definitiva a questa
domanda. Comunque, se circa questo problema della possibilità
dell’educazione, i precedenti storici del pensiero tomistico in ordine
all’averroismo paiono incerti quanto ai particolari, nessun dubbio vi può
essere invece circa i due punti che ora c’interessano. È certo, cioè, non solo
che nel trattare il problema della educazione S. Tommaso guarda all'averroismo
come all'avversario da sconfiggere, ma che, di più, egli suole, benché con
intenti nei due casi molto diversi, trattarlo insieme alla dottrina
agostiniana, o platonico-agostiniana, che abbiamo or ora richiamata. L'abbiamo
già detto: la tesi agostiniana appare, in massima, vera ma incompleta, dove la
tesi averroistica appare manifestamente falsa. Ma appunto da quella
incompletezza S. Tommaso doveva pensare essere facile passare a questa falsità,
non solo per la ragione generica del pericolo che presentano sempre le teorie
incomplete, ma anche per alcune ragioni specifiche e positive che possiamo
benissimo rintracciare attraverso le poderose argomentazioni del De Magistro, e
che ci vengono subito in mente appena ci troviamo a richiamare i principi
fondamentali dell'averroismo. L'averroismo, infatti, qualunque possa essere
lo sviluppo che gli abbia dato in particolare l'uno o l'altro suo fautore, ci
si presenta, nelle sue linee generali, abbastanza ben definito, si potrebbe
dire, attorno a due tesi fondamentali riguardanti, l'una, la natura dell'anima
umana, l'altra i rapporti di Dio col mondo. La prima tesi, riguarda la
notissima questione della unità dell'intelletto: e non s'andrebbe lontani dal
vero asserendo ch'essa rispondeva, nella mente dei pensatori medioevali, a un
ordine di preoccupazioni non molto dissimile da quello cui rispondono, nella
mente dei pensatori moderni, le dottrine idealistiche del soggetto unico e
dell'io trascendentale. «Quod intellectus omnium hominum est unus et idem
numero» [V. MANDONNET Siger de Brabant, Louvain 1911. Vol. 1° pag. 111 n.. - Si
cfr. nel vol. II° a pag. 187 fra le proposizioni condannate dallo stesso
Arcivescovo nel 1277: «Quod scientia magistri et discipuli est una numero...»
Che è proprio una delle affermazioni confutate nel De Magistro, all'Art. 1° (ad
sextum)]: ecco come la condanna portata nel 1270 dall'Arcivescovo di Parigi
contro l'averroismo definiva la prima proposizione riprovata. Noi non possiamo,
ora, addentrarci nelle sottili questioni di interpretazione aristotelica che
questa dottrina coinvolge: basti notare, adesso, la soluzione del problema
della conoscenza ch'essa richiede. In sostanza, come pure è chiarito sia dalla
polemica di San Tommaso sia da un'altra delle proposizioni condannate,
qualunque fosse la maniera colla quale interpretava Aristotele, l'averroismo intendeva
fondarsi su ragioni speculative, fra l'altro, su questa: che l'atto del
pensiero sembra non potersi attribuire in proprio a questo o a quel soggetto
pensante particolare, ma doversi attribuire invece a un intelletto unico che si
rifrange, sì variamente attraverso le singole anime e i singoli corpi da esse
informati, ma che, ciò nonostante, resta unico, come la luce che illumina in
diverso modo i vari oggetti, e tuttavia è sempre la stessa luce. Le differenze
fra i singoli soggetti, ossia fra l'una e l'altra anima individuale sembravano,
cioè, agli averroisti differenze che cadessero, se così ci si può esprimere, su
un piano diverso da quello nel quale si svolge la funzione del pensiero vera e
propria: differenze riguardanti, insomma, la materia piuttosto che il pensiero
[O, al massimo, la sensibilità e l'immaginazione: l'anima sensitiva. V. quanto
diciamo a pag. 29], fino a far dell'anima individuale, in quanto forma
dell'uomo, qualcosa che si corrompe colla morte, né più né meno del
corpo. Fermiamoci un momento a questa celebre tesi, per la quale
l'averroismo ben merita di essere chiamato, pur colle debite differenze
d'ambienti e di problemi, l'idealismo del Medio Evo, cosi come, d'altra parte,
ben si potrebbe chiamare oggi l'idealismo un averroismo moderno, molto più
evoluto e raffinato del suo antico progenitore. Quali conseguenze si possono
trarre da questa tesi dell'intelletto unico in ordine al problema
dell'educazione? È chiaro: se l'intelletto è uno solo in tutti gli uomini, è
uno solo anche nel maestro e nello scolaro, i quali, dunque, non sono più due
soggetti, ma un soggetto solo, almeno quanto alla funzione del pensiero. Ma
allora ecco risolta quella tal difficoltà della «comunicazione» fra
maestro e scolaro che tanto aveva tormentato Agostino. Il maestro non ha più
bisogno di comunicare dall'esterno collo scolaro, per la semplice ragione che
l'uno e l'altro già comunicano nella maniera più intima possibile, attraverso
lo stesso intelletto, che è unico in ambedue. E perciò l'opera esteriore del
maestro si riduce, non già al trasmettere scienza, ma solo a stimolare lo
scolaro perché disponga la fantasia e la sensibilità [Si veda S. Tomm. Summa
theol. I, 117 art. I (nel corpo)] in modo da attuare convenientemente quella
scienza che già possiede - allo stesso titolo del maestro - nell'intelletto
unico. Così la teoria averroistica accresce la sua autorità con tutto il
peso degli argomenti fra i quali si era dibattuto il pensiero agostiniano,
anzi, ci si presenta come la sola teoria capace di spiegare in maniera
rigorosamente scientifica il problema dell'educazione. Né l’avere ammesso, come
Agostino, Dio come solo maestro, costituisce un ostacolo: poiché
quell'intelletto unico di Averroé e degli averroisti si trova già,
filosoficamente, in una posizione equivoca, nella quale non è difficile
riconoscergli attributi divini, quali la capacità di creare o, almeno, di
infondere immediatamente le forme nella materia. E non basta: la teoria
averroistica sembra venire incontro anche a quelle esigenze circa
l'autodidattica, che da Socrate e da Platone in poi si erano fatte
energicamente sentire, nella storia della pedagogia, poiché lo scolaro non vi
riceve scienza dal maestro o, comunque, dal di fuori, ma solo trae da se
stesso, o da quell'unico intelletto che pensa in lui, tutta la scienza che gli
abbisogna. Sì che, in sostanza, averroismo, autodidattica, Dio unico maestro,
finiscono col formare una sola dottrina, che pare rispondere mirabilmente alle
difficoltà già sollevate da Agostino circa il problema dell'educazione, e
fornirci, anzi, quel completamento e quella rielaborazione critica che la
pedagogia agostiniana attendeva. Ricordiamo quello che avevamo detto al
principio di questo studio: il difficile problema di intendere come un soggetto
pensante (il maestro) possa trasmettere il suo sapere a un altro soggetto
pensante (lo scolaro) è risolto appunto col toglier di mezzo la dualità,
riducendo l'educazione all'atto di un soggetto unico. Non resta che tracciare
una linea ideale attraverso il tempo, la quale congiunga Aristotele e Averroé
con Cartesio, Kant ed Hegel, fino all'idealismo contemporaneo, e avremo
rintracciato, nel bel mezzo delle dispute medioevali, le origini almeno di una
fra le più cospicue correnti della pedagogia moderna. Ma la teoria
dell'intelletto unico prendeva un significato ancor più deciso, quando la si
considerava insieme a quell'altro gruppo di tesi cosmologico-metafisiche che si
riscontrano non solo in Averroè e negli averroisti, anche in altri commentatori
arabi di Aristotele, come Avicenna od Algazele. Le tesi averroistiche
condannate nel 1270 affermano, aristotelicamente, il mondo essere eterno, e Dio
non conoscere nulla fuori di se stesso e tutto ciò che accade nel mondo,
compresi gli atti della volontà umana, essere soggetto non alla Provvidenza
divina, ma alla necessità e all'influsso dei corpi celesti. D'altra parte, in
tutti i commentatori di Aristotele sopra citati ricorre pertinacemente questa
affermazione: che Dio non ha creato direttamente - se pur si può ancora parlare
di «creazione» da questo punto di vista - tutti gli esseri, ma solo
l'intelligenza prima, o l'intelletto separato, il quale, a sua volta, ha dato
la forma a tutti gli esseri, magari attraverso una gerarchia d'intelligenze, le
superiori delle quali agiscono sulle inferiori. Così l'importanza e la dignità,
se si può dire, metafisica di Dio come causa prima, mentre sembra aumentata
riesce, invece, stranamente diminuita. Sembra che sia tolto a Dio ogni contatto
diretto colla materia e cogli esseri, inferiori: in realtà questo accade sol
perché si sono dati alle cause seconde degli attributi che dovrebbero
spettare solo alla causa prima, ad esempio la facoltà di creare, la facoltà
d'imprimere immediatamente le forme nella materia, il dominio sulle intelligenze.
La stessa materia e il mondo materiale diventano qualche cosa che sta e si
svolge per sé indipendentemente da Dio: onde quella strana cecità e
indifferenza di Dio per quanto accade nel mondo. Il che significa ridurre,
anziché aumentare, l'importanza della causa prima, tanto da ammettere
addirittura, implicitamente o esplicitamente, l'esistenza di parecchie cause
prime. C'è insomma, e nei commentatori arabi di Aristotele e nell'averroismo,
questa interessante posizione filosofica: un ingenuo materialismo che sta
insieme a un non meno ingenuo idealismo, un sistema dell'immanenza che finisce
in un vero e proprio naturalismo. Ce ne dovremo ricordare dopo, esaminando il
De Magistro di S. Tommaso. IV Il quale S. Tommaso due volte, nelle due
diverse trattazioni che dedica al problema dell'insegnamento, torna a discutere
la dottrina averroistica: una volta, prevalentemente, per ciò che riguarda la
teoria dell’intelletto unico, un'altra volta per ciò che si riferisce alle
teorie metafisico-cosmologiche. Nella Summa Theologica, I, q. 117, art.
1, l'averroismo è, infatti, esposto e confutato quanto alle sue conseguenze
circa i rapporti fra maestro e discepolo che riguardano la teoria della
conoscenza. Averroè, dice S. Tommaso, affermò esser unico l'intelletto in tutti
gli uomini e perciò ammise che il maestro non può causare allo scolaro una
scienza diversa da quella che quest’ultimo ha già, ma solo può spingerlo ad
ordinare i fantasmi nella sua immaginazione in modo che siano ben disposti a
riflettere la luce dell'unico intelletto e a provocare, perciò, l'apprensione
della scienza. “ Et secundum hoc ponit, quod unus homo per doctrinam non causat
scientiam in altero aliam ab ea quam ipse habet; sed communicat ei eamdem
scientiam quam ipse habet, per hoc quod movet eum ad ordinandum phantasmata in
anima sua, ad hoc quod sint disposita convenienter ad intelligibilem
apprehensionem”. Dove bisogna tener presente che, secondo l'averroismo, l'anima
sensitiva, alla quale appartengono la fantasia e i fantasmi, è forma del corpo,
e, quindi, a differenza dell'anima intellettiva, è propria di ciascun singolo
soggetto e molteplice secondo la molteplicità dei soggetti. Onde, l'atto del
pensare si può attribuire all'uno o all'altro singolo soggetto, al maestro o
allo scolaro, non in quanto puro atto del pensare (nel qual senso va attribuito
solo all'intelletto unico) ma in quanto pensiero che si riflette e, per così
dire, s'incorpora nei fantasmi, i quali appartengono in proprio all'uno o
all'altro individuo o soggetto particolare. La differenza fra il maestro e lo
scolaro non sta, dunque, nel fatto che l'uno sappia e l'altro non sappia, uno
abbia la scienza e l'altro no, dal momento che maestro e scolaro hanno tutti e
due, per natura, lo stesso intelletto e, perciò, la stessa scienza. Ma sta,
invece, nel fatto che il maestro ha già disposto i fantasmi della sua
immaginazione in modo che essi rispecchino e realizzino le forme intellettuali
dell'intelletto unico; mentre lo scolaro non li ha ancor disposti così, ma deve
tuttavia disporli. Il maestro, quindi, non «comunica» né trasmette scienza nel
senso vero e proprio della parola, ma solo stimola con l'insegnamento lo
scolaro a formare e ordinare quei fantasmi che permetteranno, se ci si consente
l'espressione, alla luce dell'intelletto unico, che pur c'era nella sua anima,
ma era come adombrata e annuvolata, di passare a risplendere in tutta la
sua chiarezza. Teoria, bisogna pur dirlo, simile in modo addirittura
impressionante a certe dottrine moderne le quali non hanno su di lei che il
vantaggio di non formulare sempre chiaramente le ultime conseguenze cui
giungono, ma le quali, viceversa, ammettono un «Io» unico per tutti i soggetti
particolari, e debbono poi rinviare alla sensibilità quando vogliono spiegare
la differenza, almeno apparente, fra un soggetto e l'altro, proprio come già
faceva, a suo modo, la teoria averroistica. Più esperte e scaltrite, le teorie
moderne sono pronte a coprire col divenire e la dialettica ogni loro
deficienza; più ingenuo e grossolano, l'averroismo si lasciava subito sbarrare
il passo da questa formidabile difficoltà. Se l'intelletto è unico, diverso e
separato dalle singole anime individuali, come si può poi attribuire a queste
singole anime, e ai singoli soggetti, Tizio, Caio e Sempronio, l'atto del pensare,
l'atto, cioè, di un soggetto per definizione affatto diverso da loro? Abbiamo
visto, è vero, che gli averroisti tentavano di vincere questa difficoltà
amalgamando l'intelletto unico con l'anima individuale attraverso il termine
medio dei fantasmi e delle forme o specie intelligibili. Ma si tratta di una
soluzione che non risolve nulla, poiché tale «continuatio vel unio» come la
chiama S. Tommaso non spiega in qual modo l'azione dell'intelletto si possa
attribuire a questo o quel soggetto particolare. Il fatto che le specie o forme
intelligibili siano nei fantasmi dell'anima individuale non significa punto che
siano da essa pensate, così come l'essere il colore in una parete non vuol dire
che la parete vegga il colore, o che si debba attribuir alla parete l'azione
del vedere. Per avere in sé il colore, la parete non vede, ma è veduta; per
avere riflesse nei suoi fantasmi le forme o specie intelligibili, l'individuo,
Tizio o Caio, non penserebbe, ma piuttosto, sarebbe pensato, dall'unico
intelletto [S. Theol. I, q. 76, art. 1 (in corp.)]. Difficoltà, si noti
bene, che non si risolve col far entrare a forza l'intelletto unico dentro i
soggetti particolari, o col renderlo, come oggi si preferisce dire,
«immanente». Poiché la questione non è di lontananza o vicinanza, di continuità
o di contiguità, ma di possibilità o impossibilità logica e metafisica. Si
chiede appunto se sia possibile rendere «immanente» un intelletto unico nei
singoli soggetti particolari, e proprio qui si trova la difficoltà insolubile.
Non è ora il caso di addentrarsi oltre nell'acuta critica che San Tommaso fa
alla teoria dell'intelletto unico tutte le volte che gli accade di trattare
dell'averroismo sia direttamente che indirettamente; né di enumerare i poderosi
argomenti in proposito della quest. 76 (I, art. 1 e 2) ch'egli stesso richiama
alla quest. 117. Qui basti ricordare che l'aver criticato quella teoria
averroistica porta l'Aquinate a denunciare un equivoco, nel quale altre teorie,
ben più moderne e scaltrite dell'averroismo, sarebbero poi cadute. Questo: che,
nell'insegnamento, perché si possa garantire la comunicazione fra maestro e
scolaro e il loro reciproco intendersi, non occorre che la scienza del maestro
sia una di numero [Cfr. supra, pag. 24, nota, la proposizione condannata nel
1277] con quella dello scolaro, quasiché il medesimo sapere dovesse passare da
una mente all'altra come un pezzo di legno passa di mano in mano. Ma basta
soltanto che la scienza dello scolaro sia eguale o simile a quella del maestro:
identica per la identità delle cose conosciute pur attraverso due processi
mentali distinti e diversi e non per una materiale coincidenza e
sovrapposizione della mente del maestro a quello dello scolaro, «...non si dice
che il docente trasfonda la scienza nel discepolo, come se la stessa scienza -
numericamente la stessa scienza - che è nel maestro passasse nel discepolo; ma
che, mediante l'insegnamento passa nel discepolo una scienza, simile a quella
che è nel maestro...» [De Mag. Art. I ad 6.tum «...docens non dicitur transfundere
scientiam in discipulum, quasi illa eadem numero scientia quae est in magistro,
in discipulo fiat, sed quia per doctrinam fit in discipulo scientia similis ei
quae est in magistero”]. Che significa, in sostanza, dimostrare quanto poco sia
fondata l'idea che la teoria dell'intelletto unico possa facilitare o
addirittura risolvere il problema della educazione, colla sua materialistica
contrazione di tutti i soggetti pensanti in un soggetto solo, quasiché i
soggetti fossero oggetti materiali che se non si sbattono gli uni contro gli
altri non c'è verso di metterli in rapporto fra loro. V Nel De Magistro,
invece, la teoria averroistica non è considerata per ciò che si riferisce al
problema della conoscenza, ma più in generale per ciò che riguarda il problema
metafisico e i rapporti fra la causa prima e le cause seconde. Tanto è vero che
l'autore esplicitamente citato non è Averroè, come nella quest. 117 della
Summa, ma Avicenna: ossia proprio colui che più insiste sul carattere
metafisico dell'intelletto separato, considerandolo come l'intelletto primo, il
solo prodotto immediatamente da Dio, e, in pari tempo, il datore delle forme a
tutti gli esseri. Una specie di idealismo monistico, dunque, secondo il quale,
e il problema metafisico e il problema morale e il problema della conoscenza
sono risolti con l'ammettere che le forme degli esseri, la virtù e la scienza
derivino dall'intelletto unico e da esso fluiscano, per così dire, sia negli
oggetti sia nei soggetti individuali. Accanto a questa dottrina S.
Tommaso ne ricorda, per criticarla parimente, un'altra che sembrerebbe quasi
una teoria materialistica, se non ci aiutasse il riscontro con la citata
questione 117 della Summa. Altri credettero, è detto nel De Magistro, che tutti
codesti elementi, forme, scienza, virtù, fossero, anziché in un primo agente,
nelle cose stesse, e venissero poi soltanto in luce per opera dell'azione e
degli agenti naturali: come se tutte le forme delle cose fossero già immanenti
nella materia. «Quidam vero e contrario opinati sunt; scilicet quod omnia ista
rebus essent indita, nec ab exteriori causam haberent, sed solummodo quod per
exteriorem actionem manifestantur: posuerunt enim quidam, quod omnes formae
naturales essent actu in materia latentes» [De Mag. art. I (in corp.)]. Ma
nella quest. 117 della Summa è detta opinione dei Platonici "opinio
Platonicorum" quella secondo la quale gli agenti naturali preparano
soltanto a ricevere le forme che la materia acquista per partecipazione delle
Idee. «Sic etiam ponebant, quod agentia naturalia solummodo disponunt ad
susceptionem formarum, quas acquirit materia corporalis per participationem
specierum separatarum» [S. Theol. I, q. 117, art, 1 (in corp.)]. E il richiamo
alla concezione platonica è efficacemente riconfermato dal De Magistro stesso,
ove, tra le conseguenze di questa teoria si menziona appunto il concetto che
all'anima individuale sia concreata la scienza e che, perciò, l'insegnare e
l'imparare in altro non consista se non nel ricordarsi che fa l'anima della
scienza già posseduta fin dall'inizio e poi obliata col suo ingresso nel corpo
[De Mag. loc. cit]; cioè precisamente la dottrina platonica della anamnesi, che
è appunto, come sappiamo, una delle più antiche giustificazioni della
autodidattica. La dottrina platonica, dunque (che è anche, in gran parte,
non dimentichiamolo, la dottrina agostiniana) e la dottrina averroistica sono
da S. Tommaso non tanto contrapposte, come potrebbe avvenire di una teoria
materialistica e di una idealistica, ma anzi poste sulla stessa linea, come due
forme diverse di un medesimo idealismo. E, infatti, quanto
all'insegnamento, che differenza ci può essere fra la teoria averroistica che
concede al maestro solo di stimolare lo scolaro a disporre i suoi fantasmi in
modo che lascino passare la luce dell'unico intelletto la quale già ardeva, ma
velata, nella sua anima, e la teoria platonica che vede nell'insegnamento una
rimozione degli ostacoli che il corpo e i sensi frappongono, nell'anima stessa,
al ricordo della scienza che già possiede, ma ottenebrata e obliata? E che
differenza c'è, si potrebbe aggiungere, fra queste antiche dottrine e le teorie
dell’idealismo più moderno che nel maestro e nello scolaro vogliono vedere due
aspetti o momenti diversi di un Soggetto solo, per cui debbono ammettere che lo
scolaro ha la stessa scienza e lo stesso pensiero del maestro, ma solo in un
grado di consapevolezza oscuro e involuto e che l'insegnamento avrà per unico
compito di render più chiaro ed evoluto? In realtà siamo sempre allo stesso
punto: idealismo e autodidattica. Nel combattere la possibile deformazione
dell'agostinismo in senso averroistico, S. Tommaso ha effettivamente innanzi a
sé già i motivi fondamentali di quella che sarà poi pur con altre forme e altra
mentalità, la pedagogia idealistica moderna. E all'autodidattica e
all'idealismo che ne è il fondamento, S. Tommaso si sforza con successo, in
questi suoi scritti sul magistero, di togliere proprio quella pericolosa arma
che derivava loro dal presentarsi come l'unica soluzione capace di rimuovere
sul serio tutte le difficoltà inerenti al problema educativo: prima fra le
altre, si capisce, quella riguardante la possibile «comunicazione» fra maestro
e scolaro. Se lo scolaro non ha già in sé e nel suo interno la scienza, come
potrà riceverla dall'esterno? Abbiamo visto che per S. Agostino un argomento
fondamentale contro l'efficacia didattica dei «segni» ond'è intessuto il
linguaggio era proprio questo: o lo scolaro già conosce le cose da essi
significate, o non le conosce: se le conosce, essi non servono a
insegnargliele, se non le conosce, non capirà nemmeno i segni. A ciò S.
Tommaso risponde negando senz'altro il dilemma, col richiamarci uno dei più
importanti caratteri della conoscenza, che non è un oggetto o una cosa, la
quale o c'è o non c'è, ma un processo che si svolge per gradi e si può
considerare sotto diversi aspetti. Ha lo scolaro in sé la scienza,
dall'interno, senza che il maestro gl'insegni? In un certo senso, sì, giacché,
per poter conoscere, ogni singolo soggetto deve avere in sé non solo l'attività
conoscitiva, il lume intellettuale, ma anche alcuni concetti primi, alcune
«forme» o «categorie» come più modernamente si direbbero (l'essere, l'uno, la
sostanza, la causa ecc.) applicando le quali al materiale offertoci dalla sensibilità
e dall'esperienza noi formiamo poi tutti gli altri concetti. E se ne avessimo
il tempo, sarebbe, ora, interessantissimo fermarsi su questa teoria tomistica
della conoscenza, che non è affatto un «innatismo» simile a quello, poniamo, di
Cartesio, ma piuttosto un vero e proprio «apriorismo» capace di richiamarci
quello che con molti gravi inconvenienti e con una consapevolezza critica assai
minore del tomismo doveva costruire più tardi la filosofia moderna [la quale
distruggeva, con Hegel e dopo di lui, quello che aveva costruito, almeno in
parte, con Kant; e dopo aver ammesso, con Kant, l'«a priori» nella conoscenza,
distruggeva, dopo Hegel, ogni distinzione fra «a priori» ed «a
posteriori»]. Questa teoria, secondo San Tommaso, che riconosce un «a priori»
nella conoscenza, sta nel giusto mezzo fra le due teorie estreme sopra
ricordate: che vorrebbe tutt'e due nell'anima il possesso completo della
scienza (benché, eventualmente, oscurato) sia per concreazione che per
partecipazione dell'Intelletto unico. Laddove la scienza c'è, se si vuole,
nell'animo nostro, ma solo «in potenza» ed implicitamente. L'attività
dell'intelletto nostro ha in sé alcuni germi di scienza «quaedam
scientiarum semina», cioè alcune, virtualità, o disposizioni a formare immediatamente,
appena stimolata dall'esperienza sensibile, i principi primi, o le «categorie».
Che contengono già, in certo modo, tutta la scienza, ed ogni scienza possibile,
passata, presente o futura, appunto perché sono i concetti primi e più
universali dell'intelletto, concetti presupposti da ogni altro concetto e senza
i quali nessun altro concetto si forma, né si potrebbe formare. Così come, per
servirsi di un paragone grossolano, nelle sette note musicali sono contenute,
in potenza, tutte le sinfonie che la mente umana abbia escogitato o sia mai per
escogitare. Ma (proprio come, benché nelle sette note musicali sia
contenuta tutta la musica in potenza ed implicitamente, esplicitamente non c'è
nessuna sinfonia, e l'inesperto benché tocchi quanto vuole i tasti del
pianoforte non ne cava nulla) nei primi principi è contenuta tutta la scienza,
e tutto lo scibile umano in potenza ed implicitamente; ma in atto ed
esplicitamente non v'è in essi nessuna scienza concreta e determinata o,
meglio, vi è quella sola scienza che riguarda i primi principi stessi, poniamo
il concetto dell'essere, il concetto dell'uno ecc. E dunque lo scolaro sa o non
sa, ha o non ha nell'interno del suo animo quella scienza che il maestro gli
insegna? Sa e non sa, ha e non ha, nello stesso tempo. Sa ed ha, in potenza ed
implicitamente; non sa e non ha in atto ed esplicitamente. Sa, in quanto
possiede, nel suo intelletto, i primi principi, nei quali ogni scienza è
contenuta; non sa, in quanto dai primi principi non ha ancora ricavato quelle
determinate e particolari cognizioni che il maestro gli insegna. L'opera del
maestro è, quindi, inutile o superflua? Nemmeno per sogno. Senza di essa lo
scolaro sarebbe come l'inesperto musicista che ha innanzi a sé, nella tastiera
del pianoforte, tutti i capolavori possibili ma, sciaguratamente, non sa
cavarne fuori che, al massimo, una scala. Giacché proprio questo è,
secondo San Tommaso uno dei caratteri fondamentali dell'intelligenza umana:
essere una vis collativa o, come più modernamente si direbbe, una «attività
sintetica». A differenza del senso che si comporta egualmente rispetto a tutti
i suoi oggetti sì che poco importa, ed è una circostanza accidentale che
percepisca prima gli uni o gli altri, l'intelletto non si comporta egualmente
nel considerare tutti gl'intelligibili; ma subito vede alcune cose, come quelle
che sono per sé note, nelle quali sono contenute implicitamente alcune altre
che la stessa potenza intellettiva non può intendere se non esplicando per
mezzo della ragione le cose che nei principi sono implicitamente contenute [De
Mag. Art. I (ad XII. mum) «...non se habet aequaliter ad omnia intelligibilia
consideranda; sed statini quaedam videt, ut quae sunt per se nota, in quibus
implicite continentur quaedam alia quae intelligere non potest nisi per
officium rationis ea quae in principiis implicite continentur explicando
»]. L'intelletto, cioè, afferra immediatamente i primi principi, e poi,
mediante quelli, conosce tutte le altre cose, compie un atto semplice e
immediato pei primi principi, e un processo mediato per tutte le altre cose. Ed
è attività unitiva e sintetica appunto perché tutto quello che conosce, nella
scienza, come vero, lo conosce in quanto lo può connettere ai primi principi
mediante il processo del ragionamento. Tanto che se «si propongono ad alcuno
cose non incluse nei principi per sé noti, o che non vi si manifestano incluse,
non si produrrà in lui scienza, ma opinione, ovvero fede». VI. Sia
concesso prima di procedere oltre, fare un'osservazione: questa teoria di
S. Tommaso riguardante i primi principi, benché più volte abbia dato
origine a delle critiche, non è mai stata, né poteva esserlo, veramente
contraddetta neppure dalle più audaci e radicali teorie moderne della
conoscenza. Le quali, sebbene abbiano protestato contro l'immediatezza dei
primi principi e ci abbiano voluto vedere quasi un segno di umiliante passività
dell'intelletto, non hanno, viceversa, poi, mai potuto far a meno, per conto
loro, né dei primi principi, né della immediatezza relativa. Sì che tutto si è
risolto, in ultima analisi, nel cambiare il nome dei primi principi serbandone,
più o meno, immutata la sostanza. Cosi al posto dei principi si sono messe le
«categorie» di Kant, l' «io» di Fichte o i momenti e gradi dello spirito degli
idealisti moderni. Ma anche nella più estrema ipotesi, anche ridotte, cioè,
tutte le categorie ad una sola, quella dell'«io», resta sempre vero che esse
così si sono credute di poter ridurre, appunto, in quanto è sembrato che l'
«io» solo fosse un principio immediatamente per sé noto, e tale che tutte le
altre cose potessero esser note solo in quanto da lui si deducono e a lui si
riconducono. Che è precisamente, con molte parole diverse e qualche asserzione
assai discutibile per di più, la stessa posizione nella quale si trovano i
«principi primi» della teoria tomisticoaristotelica, la quale sotto questo
aspetto è dunque tanto «moderna» e critica come qualsiasi altra. Nessun
filosofo degno di tal nome potrà mai negare il duplice carattere, mediato
quanto alle conclusioni e immediato quanto ai principi, della conoscenza
intellettuale. Appunto per questo l'attività intellettuale ha bisogno di
un «motore» (indiget... motore) che la faccia passare dalla potenza all'atto. E
ne ha bisogno proprio perché il processo della scienza pel quale dai principi
si ricavano le conclusioni, non è un processo che si svolga per una necessità
meccanica e fatale, cosicché posti da Dio nella mente umana i primi principi
debba conseguirne senz'altro la scienza, così come un grave lasciato a se stesso
deve fatalmente cadere. L'intelletto umano d'altra parte non è come
l'intelletto angelico che scorge immediatamente nei principi le conclusioni e
che con un solo e semplice atto coglie la verità: esso, invece, scorge
immediatamente la verità dei primi principi, e quella di tutte le altre
cognizioni solo in quanto le può ridurre, mediante il ragionamento, ai primi
principi stessi. Ora, proprio in questo processo di riduzione ai principi e
deduzione da esso, il discepolo ha bisogno d'aiuto; sia perché può sbagliare,
sia perché può non avere la forza e la maturità mentale sufficiente per
effettuare certe deduzioni e conclusioni. Inconvenienti ai quali rimedia il
maestro in quanto gli mostra l'ordine dei principi e delle conclusioni: «
inquantum proponit discipulo ordinem principiorum ad conclusione? qui forte per
seipsum non haberet tantam virtutem collativam » [S. Theol. loc. cit]. Ma
il soggetto pensante non ha in sé come sola fonte di conoscenze, il lume
intellettuale e i primi principi, ha anche un'altra maestra: l'esperienza, o,
meglio, la conoscenza sensibile. Già i primi principi, i concetti primi e per
sé evidenti, abbiamo visto che sono nel nostro animo, forme a priori,
disposizioni o virtualità che passano all'atto solo al primo stimolo della esperienza.
Passati all'atto e costituiti che siano essi non producono nuove conoscenze se
non in quanto si applicano, daccapo, ai dati che l'esperienza sensibile ci
offre. Coi concetti di «uno», di «essere», ecc. (primi principi) io non posso
formare i concetti di «animale», di «vegetale», di «uomo» ecc. se l'esperienza
sensibile non mi dà la percezione dei singoli uomini, vegetali, animali ecc.
dai quali astraendo certe caratteristiche essenziali comuni io formo appunto il
concetto di «animale», «vegetale», «uomo » ecc. Processo che S. Tommaso
descrive così: «Cum autem aliquis hujusmodi universalia principia,
applicat ad aliqua particularia, quorum memoriam et experimentum per sensum
accipit, per inventionem propriam acquirit scientiam eorum quae nesciebat...» Non
basta, cioè, che ci siano i primi principi, occorre che ci siano anche le
cognizioni particolari da ridurre ad essi; se no il processo che abbiamo
descritto prima, col quale la mente umana conosce la verità, non potrebbe aver
luogo. Ora, la conoscenza di queste particolari nozioni manca, o meglio, è
scarsa ed imperfetta nello scolaro, che ha esplorato la propria esperienza
sensibile molto meno e molto peggio del maestro. Ed ecco un altro modo col
quale il maestro aiuta il discepolo: presentandogli, appunto, delle nozioni o
proposizioni particolari, la verità delle quali egli possa saggiare da sé al
lume dei primi principi, ovvero proponendo alla sua osservazione oggetti ed
esempi sensibili da cui possa ricavare direttamente le cognizioni stesse
[«...cum proponit ei aliquas propositiones minus universales, quas tamen ex
praecognitis discipulus dijudicare potest; vel cum proponit ei aliqua
sensibilia exempla, vel similia vel opposita, vel aliqua hujusmodi, ex quibus
intellectus addiscentis manuducitur in cognitionem veritatis ignotae». S.
Theol. loc. cit. (in corp.)]. Far questo, S. Tommaso lo dice, da parte del
maestro: procurare allo scolaro «aliqua auxilia vel instrumenta» aiuti e
strumenti di lavoro, potremmo dir noi, giacché il loro uso è proprio simile,
sotto quest'aspetto, agli strumenti materiali, che facilitano il lavoro pur
senza diminuire, anzi accrescendo la attività e la solerzia di chi li
adopera. Che cosa c'è di vero, dunque, nella teoria agostiniana, secondo
la quale è Dio che, dall'interno, mostra la verità all'anima umana? Questo: che
da Dio appunto viene all'anima nostra la facoltà di conoscere, il lume
intellettuale, i primi principi, la sensibilità. Ma poi lo sviluppo di questa
facoltà e il suo passaggio dalla potenza all'atto avvengono non già per
intervento diretto della Causa Prima, sibbene per intervento di una causa
seconda, qual è precisamente il maestro umano. Il che non diminuisce affatto la
potenza o la dignità della Causa Prima, la quale ha creato appunto le cause
seconde, fra le quali i maestri, non perché ottenessero nell'universo solo un
effetto decorativo, ma perché davvero «causassero», cioè producessero qualche
cosa «...prima causa ex eminentia bonitatis sua? rebus aliis confert non solum
quod sint, sed etiam quod causae sint» [De Mag Art. I (in corp.)]. Dio ha
conferito alle cause seconde, non solo l'essere, ma anche il causare, l'esser
cause. Onde significherebbe non accrescere, ma diminuire la bontà e la potenza
di Dio, supporre ch'Egli avesse fatto delle cause incapaci di causare, quasi
sbagliandosi e contraddicendosi nell'opera sua stessa. Ch'è appunto
l'inconveniente rimproverato da San Tommaso alle due teorie, averroistica e
platonica, le quali volendo riferir tutto, o all'azione dell'Intelletto unico,
o all'azione delle forme separate (idee) finiscono col non vedere più, negli
agenti naturali e nelle cause seconde, se non qualcosa d'illusorio e irreale.
Il che accade alle teorie dell'autodidattica, che ammettono la esistenza del
maestro, salvo poi a togliergli ogni possibilità e capacità effettiva
d'insegnare. La teoria dell'autodidattica così è colpita proprio al cuore:
nelle dottrine filosofiche che ne costituiscono la giustificazione. Ma, e quel
tale, difficile problema della «comunicazione» fra maestro e scolaro? E quella
tale impossibilità che la scienza si trasmettesse, mediante i puri segni
sensibili del linguaggio, dall’uno all'altro soggetto? Per rispondere a
queste domande S. Tommaso tiene a chiarire alcuni equivoci che saranno, in ogni
tempo, i più potenti motivi delle teorie pedagogiche tendenti
all'autodidattica. E, in primo luogo, il passaggio della scienza dal
maestro allo scolaro è proprio vero che si debba considerare come il passaggio
di un oggetto materiale da una mano all'altra? Anzi, è vero che sì possa
parlare, in genere, di «passaggio» della scienza dal maestro allo scolaro? Un
oggetto materiale passa da una mano all'altra sempre restando lo stesso
oggetto, uno e identico. La scienza passa anche lei di mente in mente restando
sempre una? Abbiamo già visto che non è così. Lo scolaro non riceve la stessa
scienza del maestro, ma se ne forma una simile, la quale benché coincida, e
contenga, cioè, le stesse cognizioni, non è numericamente una con quella del
maestro. Così, per prendere un esempio volgare, due ciliege sono eguali fra
loro come ciliege, ma sono tuttavia due e non una, e due rimarrebbero sempre
anche se fossero uguali persino nelle più insignificanti particolarità, come
due macchine di una identica serie. E, dunque, chi non accetta l'intelletto
unico di Averroé non ha punto l'obbligo di mostrare come una stessa scienza
passi, quasi oggetto materiale, dal maestro allo scolaro: basta che dimostri
come lo scolaro possa formarsi - con un'attività che resta sua e interna al suo
animo - una propria scienza, pur simile, nel contenuto delle nozioni, alla
scienza del maestro. In secondo luogo: pensano alcuni (e lo pensano anche
oggi) che siccome nel maestro e nello scolaro si svolge un processo
sostanzialmente identico, così cada ogni ragione di distinguerli l'uno
dall'altro, almeno nell'atto dell'insegnare e imparare. Che cosa c'è, infatti,
nel maestro? Il processo della conoscenza. E nello scolaro? Ancora il processo
della conoscenza. Dunque le leggi dell'educazione sono quelle della conoscenza,
anzi l'educazione è addirittura la conoscenza, e allora la pedagogia è una
scienza senza oggetto proprio, la quale si risolve nella teoria del conoscere e
basta. Altro equivoco simile al primo. E’ ben vero che il modo col quale
apprendiamo scienza da noi stessi è simile e sottostà alle medesime leggi del
modo col quale apprendiamo scienza dal maestro. Ma, al solito, simile non vuol
dire uguale e sottostare alle medesime leggi non vuol dire essere identici né
uno di numero. VII Per esempio, nella medicina, il medico guarisce
l'ammalato non facendo altro che aiutare e stimolare le forze intrinseche
dell'organismo, il quale, rigorosamente parlando, poteva guarire da solo, tanto
è vero che qualche volta guarisce di fatto senza bisogno di medici né di
medicine. Allo stesso modo il maestro procura scienza allo scolaro non facendo
altro che aiutare e stimolare le forze intrinseche dell'organismo
intellettuale: l'intelletto, l'esperienza, l'uso dei primi principi. Il medico
per guarir l'ammalato si fonda sulla conoscenza delle leggi fisiche e
fisiologiche, il maestro per insegnare si fonda sulla conoscenza delle leggi
intellettuali. Anche lo scolaro poteva, rigorosamente parlando, imparare da sé,
tanto è vero che vi sono sempre stati degli autodidatti. Che cosa significa questo?
Soltanto che «...in his autem quae fiunt a natura et arte, eodem modo operatur
ars, et per eadem media, quibus et natura» [De Mag. Art. I (in corp.)] il che,
come è ovvio, non vuol dire affatto che, dunque, l'arte non esista, o sia
identica alla natura. «Come la natura chi soffrisse per il freddo
riscaldandolo lo sanerebbe, così fa anche il medico: onde anche si dice che
l'arte imita la natura. Similmente avviene pure nell'acquisizione della
scienza, che, ricercando e ritrovando, il docente conduce altri a sapere cose
ignote nello stesso modo in cui alcuno conduce se medesimo a conoscer l'ignoto»
[Ibid. Si cfr. la traduzione Guzzo, Vallecchi ed. Firenze]. Dunque, la
somiglianza fra natura e l'arte o il fatto che l'arte imiti la natura, nell'
insegnamento come nella medicina o in altre cose, non prova punto che l'arte
non esista, o si possa considerare come una entità trascurabile. Ma, e quel tal
problema della «comunicazione»? Com'è possibile che il maestro, imitando la
natura, possa, sia pur non «trasmettere» nel senso materiale della parola, ma
anche solo provocare o stimolare nel discepolo, una scienza eguale alla
sua? Ecco, come S. Agostino, ancheS. Tommaso non mette in dubbio che lo
strumento principale della comunicazione fra maestro e discepolo sia il
linguaggio e siano i «segni» ond'esso è costituito: solo, non si arresta alla
difficoltà che S. Agostino aveva creduto insuperabile, di conciliare la
materialità e il carattere sensibile dei segni linguistici colla idealità e
l'interiorità della scienza. Poiché il «segno» del linguaggio ha, per S.
Tommaso, una fisionomia tutta speciale: è «sensibile», sì, ma d'una, se
vogliamo così chiamarla, «sensibilità» affatto diversa da quella che possiamo
attribuire alle qualità degli oggetti materiali ed alle vere e proprie
sensazioni: sensibile della sensibilità che tocca piuttosto all'immaginazione e
al suo prodotto, il «fantasma» o l'immagine, che è una sensibilità di un grado
più elevato ed immateriale di quello che compete alle sensazioni pure e semplici.
Poiché il fantasma linguistico (parola od altro segno che sia), a differenza
delle sensazioni o percezioni che ci vengono dagli oggetti materiali suppone
già l'esistenza dei concetti nella mente, e, nasce per esprimerli; e sta,
perciò, con essi, in una relazione molto più immediata che non sia quella della
sensazione coi medesimi concetti. Facciamo un esempio. Si prende la legge
fisica: «il calore dilata i corpi». Che è quella legge? Niente altro che una
«forma». Nella natura é la «forma» di quel processo che è, appunto, la
dilatazione. Ora una forma, nella natura, può esistere solo come esistono in
generale le forme in una materia, come conformazione, cioè, di determinati
oggetti o di un determinato accadere. Nella natura la legge della dilatazione
dei corpi è, appunto, il dilatarsi dei singoli corpi a, b, c ecc. e la
conoscenza che ne abbiamo è appunto la sensazione o percezione dei corpi a, b,
c, mentre si dilatano. Potrei, dunque, arrivare a formular la legge della
dilatazione partendo dalle sensazioni e percezioni pure e semplici dei corpi?
Certo che potrei e posso, in quanto, osservando prima il corpo a, poi il corpo
b, poi il corpo c ecc. posso arrivare e arrivo ad estrarre, da queste
percezioni particolari, un concetto e una legge universale riguardante la
dilatazione. E come posso arrivarci io, posso condurvi lo scolaro, lasciando
che osservi a sua volta i corpi a, b, c, e poi ne tragga, se gli riesce, la
legge della dilatazione. Si noti, però, la difficoltà e la lentezza di
questo processo. Quanti uomini hanno osservato sensibilmente il dilatarsi dei
singoli corpi, eppure non sono riusciti a formulare la legge della dilatazione!
Quanti videro i corpi cadere, e non ne seppero trarre la legge della
gravitazione universale! E si capisce: quella «forma» che è la legge della
dilatazione esiste nei corpi, ma non come forma pura e come concetto, bensì
come forma d'una materia. Come forma pura e come concetto non la troviamo
bell'e fatta, ma bisogna che la costruiamo noi, con tutte le difficoltà e incertezze
che ne seguono. Ma si prenda, invece, la stessa legge della dilatazione
qual è formulata in un trattato di fisica, o dalla voce del maestro, con queste
precise parole: «il calore dilata i corpi». Anche qui essa viene espressa con
segni sensibili, all'udito o alla vista, le parole. Segni tanto sensibili
quanto lo è appunto la percezione dei corpi a, b, c. Ma con questa differenza.
Che per poter dire o scrivere le parole «il calore dilata i corpi» si è già
dovuto formare il concetto della dilatazione colla legge relativa. La legge
della dilatazione ha dovuto esserci, cioè, non più come forma di quell'accadere
materiale ch'è il dilatarsi dei singoli corpi, ma come forma pura nella mente
del fisico. E perciò chi legge o ascolta quelle parole non ha bisogno di tutto
un complicato e difficile lavoro per cavarne fuori la pura forma della legge
scientifica, ma assume direttamente da esse la legge in quanto pura forma o
concetto scientifico. Tanto è vero che è possibile vedere mille corpi a
dilatarsi e non ricavarne la legge della dilatazione, ma non è possibile udire
dal maestro o leggere nel libro di fisica le parole «il calore dilata i corpi»
(udire e leggere davvero, s'intende, e non solo far finta) e non ricavarne la
legge della dilatazione. Per lo meno: anche se il processo della visione e
della sensazione si compie regolarmente senza essere turbato in alcun modo, e
cioè anche ammesso ch'io osservi colla massima attenzione i singoli corpi, non
è detto che per questo io arrivi ad astrarre la legge della gravitazione o
della dilatazione. Mentre se lo leggo od ascolto regolarmente le parole colle
quali il fisico si spiega, io dovrò necessariamente intendere la legge della
gravitazione o della dilatazione, a meno che qualche ragione, diciamo così,
patologica non impedisca alla mia lettura o audizione di svolgersi
regolarmente. In quest'ultimo caso, insomma, svolto normalmente il processo, ne
ho come necessaria conseguenza l'apprendimento; nell'altro caso, no. È
questa, forse, una delle più originali caratteristiche della pedagogia
delineata da S. Tommaso. Per la quale, a differenza di ciò che succede in
moltissimi altri sistemi pedagogici, la parola del maestro non è né eguale né,
tanto meno, inferiore in valore agli oggetti esterni e, in genere,
all'esperienza sensibile dello scolaro, come accadrà poi, tanto spesso, nei
vari metodi «intuitivi» od «oggettivi» escogitati dalla pedagogia moderna, da
Comenius in poi. Questo non vuol dire certo che S. Tommaso svaluti l'esperienza
- abbiamo visto invece che la valuta moltissimo - né che non le attribuisca
tutta l'importanza che deve avere. Ma fra gli oggetti sensibili che possono
variamente essere offerti allo scolaro e la parola del maestro c'è, per S.
Tommaso, una differenza essenziale che c'impedisce di considerare quest'ultima
puramente come uno fra gli altri oggetti di possibile esperienza per lo
scolaro. Giacché è vero che in un certo senso "le stesse parole
dell'insegnante, udite o viste in iscritto, quanto al causare scienza
nell'intelletto si portano come le cose che sono fuori dell'anima: perché e
dalle une e dalle altre l'intelletto riceve le intenzioni intelligibili".
Ma poi la somiglianza cessa qui, poiché le parole dell'insegnante causano
scienza "più da vicino" che non i sensibili che esistono fuori
dell'anima, in quanto le parole sono segni delle intenzioni intelligibili [De
Mag. Art. I (ad XI.nium) "ipsa verba doctoris audita, vel visa in scripta,
hoc modo se habent ad causandum scientiam in intellectu sicut res quae sunt
extra animam, quia ex utrisque intellectus intentiones intelligibiles accipit;
quamvis verba doctoris propinquius se habeant ad causandum scientiam quam
sensibilia extra animam existentia, inquantum sunt signa intelligibilium
intentionum "]. E sappiamo già che cosa vuol dire quel "più da
vicino", (propinquius) che non è punto indice di vicinanza o lontananza
materiale, ma solo del fatto che abbiamo visto, dell'essere cioè presenti nel
linguaggio le forme pure già astratte dalla materia ed esistenti nella mente:
le "specie" o "intenzioni" intelligibili; le quali invece
non sono presenti negli oggetti esterni e nelle sensazioni. Talché lo scolaro
le può assumere senz'altro dalle parole del maestro; mentre non le potrebbe
assumere dalle cose e dalle sensazioni: non le potrebbe se non mediatamente,
attraverso un complesso e delicato procedimento astrattivo il cui risultato
finale resta, in ultima analisi, incerto, almeno rispetto a quelle particolari
forme e verità che l'insegnante vuol fargli, volta a volta, scoprire. In fondo,
è ancora la giusta osservazione di S. Agostino che S. Tommaso accoglie e
sviluppa da par suo: nelle cose che facciamo percepire solo sensibilmente allo
scolaro, questi non sa, né può sapere, dalla sola percezione, quali siano gli
elementi essenziali e quali gli elementi accidentali della cosa, quali gli
elementi su cui abbiamo voluto fermare la sua attenzione e quali quelli che può
anche trascurare. E da questa incertezza, causa feconda di errori, non si esce
se non aggiungendo, alla percezione della cosa, l'insegnamento verbale del
maestro, che solo può metterci innanzi le forme già astratte dalla materia e
farci subito distinguere l'essenziale dall'accidentale, l'oggetto proposto al
nostro pensiero, da altri oggetti reali o possibili. Così il linguaggio del
maestro, lungi dal sopprimere l'esperienza dello scolaro, è proprio quello che
la spiega, l'ordina, l'organizza e, insomma, le dà un vero significato e
valore. È risolto, così, quel tal problema della «comunicazione» fra
maestro e scolaro? Certo, ed è risolto proprio col rispettare ambedue quei dati
del problema che a prima vista parevano inconciliabili: il carattere sensibile
del linguaggio, o, in genere, dei «segni» fonici, mimici o grafici di cui si
serve il maestro per operare ab estrinseco sulla coscienza dello scolaro e,
insieme, il carattere affatto intimo e interno che sempre ha la scienza
nell'animo dello scolaro medesimo, poiché vera «causa» di scienza allo scolaro
- San Tommaso non si stanca di ripeterlo - sono non già i «segni» del maestro,
ma il lume intellettuale e i «primi principi» dello scolaro stesso, il quale
scopre la verità (o la falsità) di ciò che il maestro gli ha insegnato, non già
ricevendo soltanto le forme intelligibili, ma riducendo i concetti così
formati, sotto i primi principi, mercé quella attività collativa nella quale
consiste il raziocinio, attività, senza nessun dubbio, originale e spontanea,
che il maestro può stimolare e aiutare come abbiamo visto, ma in nessun modo
sostituire. L'opera del maestro — altro errore che San Tommaso combatte
continuamente negli argomenti acclusi al primo articolo del De Magistro — non è
già un'opera creativa; come se il maestro dovesse dar lui al discepolo il lume
intellettuale e i primi principi. Ma ciò non vuol dire che sia un'opera
superflua e inesistente: crederlo, è l'illusione di coloro che scambiano
l'attività colla creazione, l’operare col trarre dal nulla; e non potendo
riconoscere in un uomo qual è il maestro un'attività creativa propria solo di
Dio, finiscono col negargli ogni e qualsiasi attività od operazione.
L'arte dell'insegnamento non crea la natura intellettuale; la presuppone. Ma la
natura stessa dell'intelletto umano è così fatta che senza l'insegnamento
rimarrebbe una vuota potenza non realizzata, o, almeno, realizzata attraverso
un processo assai lento e malsicuro. La dimostrazione esauriente di questa tesi
si trova nel secondo articolo del De Magistro, che è una delle critiche più
brillanti e spregiudicate che siano mai state fatte all'autodidattica. Articolo
paradossale in apparenza, e che suona stranamente agli orecchi di noi moderni
abituati ormai da una lunga tradizione a ritenere l'autodidattica non solo un
fatto evidentissimo e una realtà incontrastabile, ma addirittura il
centro e il principio vitale di ogni educazione. Può dirsi qualcuno maestro di
se stesso? A noi sembra di sì: sembra, anzi, che tutti e non soltanto qualcuno,
siano, in certo modo almeno, maestri di se stessi. Ebbene, San Tommaso risponde
senz'altro di no; e val la pena che, prima di scandalizzarci o di spaventarci,
intendiamo bene il principio sul quale l'Angelico dottore fonda la sua
dimostrazione; ch'è poi, in ultima analisi, lo stesso principio sul quale ha
fondato la dimostrazione precedente. E, anzitutto, si faccia bene
attenzione alla differenza che c'è fra queste due espressioni, apparentemente
simili: «acquistar scienza da sé ed «esser maestro di se stesso». Che cosa vuol
dire «acquistar scienza da sé» secondo la dottrina tomistica? Niente altro se
non quello che abbiamo già visto. L'uomo possiede il lume intellettuale e i
primi principi. Applicando tale sua attività al materiale offertogli dalla
esperienza sensibile egli giunge da sé ad astrarre certi concetti, cioè ad
accogliere nella sua mente come pure forme intelligibili quelle stesse forme
che, nella natura, esistono solo come forme di una materia. Ne abbiamo visto,
prima, un esempio a proposito della gravitazione e della dilatazione. È
questa, così ottenuta, scienza vera e propria? Senza dubbio. Anzi, scienza alla
cui estensione e complessità non ci è dato mettere un limite a priori.
Supposta, da parte del soggetto umano, una continua e indefinita esplorazione
della esperienza sensibile e una correlativa astrazione di forme, nulla si
oppone a che ne risulti una scienza anch'essa in via d'indefinito accrescimento
e a che chiunque si possa costruire, per questa via, un sapere teoricamente
illimitato. Tale è l'acquisto della scienza che si ha per opera della natura,
quando, cioè, la ragione naturale per se stessa giunge a cognizione delle cose
ignorate [De Mag. Art. I (in corp.)]. E questo modo S. Tommaso lo definisce,
per evitar confusioni, con un termine suo proprio: trovare, o scoprire:
inventio. Ma se questo processo é, innegabilmente, «acquisto di scienza»,
è poi anche «insegnamento», o magistero? Qui la cosa cambia aspetto.
L'insegnamento è un'operazione che si svolge mediante il linguaggio e che
suppone, perciò, l’esistenza delle forme intelligibili come forme pure. Ora,
un'esistenza tale noi sappiamo che quelle forme non possono averla nell'esperienza
sensibile e nella natura, dove sono soltanto forme d'una materia: debbono
averla nella mente. Ma nella mente di chi? Nella mente di colui che impara e
ricerca, no di certo, altrimenti egli non imparerebbe e ricercherebbe, ma già
saprebbe. Dunque nella mente di un altro, ossia del maestro. E allora
l'insegnamento è un processo che lo stesso soggetto non può esercitare su sé
medesimo per la contraddizione che ne consegue: perché dovrebbe al tempo stesso
avere e non avere nella sua mente le forme intelligibili e i concetti, averle,
dico, non in potenza e come possibilità di formarli, ma in atto, già formati e
come principi positivamente esistenti e operanti. Per potere insegnare a me
stesso, per esempio, la legge della gravitazione universale, io dovrei non
soltanto avere la percezione dei corpi che cadono e astrarne poi la legge, il
che sarebbe inventio, o scoperta e non insegnamento; ma dovrei già conoscere ed
esprimere la legge come pura legge; il che è assurdo, poiché, evidentemente, se
già conoscessi la legge non avrei bisogno di cercarla né di impararla.
Sembra un'oziosa questione di parole, e non lo è. Poiché S. Tommaso non chiama
con due nomi diversi l'acquistar scienza da sé (inventio) e l'insegnamento
(doctrina, disciplina) per il solo gusto di complicare il vocabolario, ma
appunto per definire bene due concetti che gli sembrano, e sono, distinti.
Abbiamo noi il diritto di estendere a una vera e propria azione qual è
l'insegnamento, ciò che è caratteristico, invece di un processo spontaneo e
naturale come la scoperta e l'invenzione? Abbiamo cioè, il diritto di
considerare anche il naturale acquisto della scienza che avviene spontaneamente
e necessariamente in ciascuno per il solo fatto d'esistere, di pensare, di
guardarsi attorno, come una vera e propria completa azione? A San Tommaso
sembra di no, e questo è appunto l'argomento sul quale tutta la dimostrazione
del secondo articolo si regge. Per potersi parlare di vera e propria «azione»
(azione «perfetta») é necessario che l'agente il quale fa da causa, contenga in
sé in maniera essenziale e non accidentale ciò che produce poi nell'effetto [De
Mag. Art. II (in corp.)]. Così, ad esempio il fuoco è agente di sanità, per
colui che soffre di una malattia guaribile col calore, ma agente accidentale
(imperfetto) poiché non contiene se non fortuitamente e per accidens ciò che in
quel dato caso produce la guarigione. Ma lo stesso fuoco è agente essenziale
(perfetto) nell'incendio d'una casa, appunto perché, come fuoco, contiene già
in sé tutto ciò ch'è necessario agli effetti della combustione. E dunque se
l'insegnamento ha da essere una vera e propria «azione» (azione perfetta)
occorre che nell’agente sia già contenuto tutto ciò che sarà poi prodotto
dall'azione. Il che accade soltanto se il soggetto maestro è diverso dal
soggetto scolaro, ossia ha già in sé in atto, esplicitamente e perfettamente,
tutto ciò che per sua opera sarà poi nel discepolo: la scienza. La
autodidattica, invece, o, meglio, l'inventio è azione solo imperfetta, cioè non
vera e completa azione, poiché in essa la causa, sia l'intelletto e i primi
principi, sia l'esperienza sensibile, contiene sì ciò che sarà poi nell'effetto
(la scienza, le forme intelligibili come forme pure) ma lo contiene solo
implicitamente e potenzialmente, quanto al suo essere di scienza e di forma
pura. E questa non è - si badi bene - un'astratta escogitazione teorica
senza nessuna rispondenza alla realtà. Al contrario, S. Tommaso c'invita ad
osservare con lui che le cose stanno proprio in tal modo. Noi siamo, è vero,
portati a lodare l'autodidatta e, perciò, attribuiamo all'autodidattica un
valore superiore, in certo senso, a quello del semplice insegnamento. Ma nel
far questo ci lasciamo sviare da un'osservazione che dovrebbe, se ben
interpretata, suggerirci proprio la conclusione contraria a quella che
abitualmente ne ricaviamo. Perché, infatti, esaltiamo, e giustamente,
l'autodidatta? Ma appunto perché fa uno sforzo eccezionale; se no non avremmo
ragione di lodarlo. Ora, l'eccezionalità di questo sforzo consiste precisamente
nel fatto che l'autodidatta non segue nel costruire la sua cultura, il processo
normale dell'insegnamento. Così l'equilibrista cammina sopra un filo, e merita
elogio: ma diremo per questo che il migliore, più sicuro e spedito modo di
camminare sia quello d'andar su un filo? No certo, anzi, diremo tutti che
l'abilità dell'equilibrista consiste, invece, nell'aver scelto, per camminare,
uno dei modi peggiori, meno sicuri e meno spediti. E, dunque, anche
dell'autodidatta dobbiamo dire che l'autodidattica, lungi dall'essere il modo
migliore e più sicuro di apprendere è, anzi, il peggiore e il più malsicuro, e
che proprio per aver saputo acconciarsi a questa maggiore difficoltà
l'autodidatta merita lode «...sebbene il modo di acquistare scienza mediante la
ricerca sia più perfetto riguardo a chi riceve la scienza, in quanto egli si
segnala più abile a sapere, pure, rispetto a chi causa la scienza, è più
perfetto il modo d'acquistare scienza attraverso l'insegnamento» [De Mag. Art.
II (ad 4.tum.) «quanivis modus in acquisitione scientiae per inventionem sit
perfectior ex parte recipientis scientiam, inquantum designatur habilior ad
sciendum; tamen ex parte scientiam causantis est modus perfectior per
doctrinam»]. Né si creda che quel ridurre a scienza «più speditamente»,
sia solo una sfumatura: anzi, c'è sotto una questione di principio, così
importante che solo chi l'ha afferrata può dirsi abbia inteso veramente la
differenza fondamentale che intercede tra la filosofia scolastica e certe filosofie
moderne, quali il materialismo positivistico o l'idealismo. C'è la
scienza, prima di essere insegnata? Strana domanda, dirà qualcuno, eppure a
questa domanda una corrente, certo rispettabile, e notevolissima della
filosofia moderna, risponde addirittura di no. La scienza non c'è ma si fa,
s'inventa, o si crea, nell'atto stesso dell'insegnamento. Come, poi, si fa o si
crea? Dal pensiero nostro, il quale è, o dovrebbe essere un atto, secondo la
filosofia moderna; ma viceversa è un atto che non è mai completamente realizzato,
ma sempre deve realizzarsi, perciò diviene e si svolge all'infinito sempre
facendosi altro da quello che era prima. Ora, un atto di questo genere:
un atto che non è tutto realizzato, o tutto realizzantesi, un atto che non è,
insomma, tutto quel che può e deve essere, ma aspetta di svolgersi e di
completarsi sia pure in un processo infinito, un atto di questo genere, la
filosofia scolastica non lo chiamerebbe punto atto, bensì potenza. Il pensiero
nostro, come abbiamo visto, possiede sì, tutta la scienza passata presente e
futura, ma «in potenza» o come pura possibilità di conoscere, non già come
atto, o come conoscenza positiva e concreta. Ebbene, una pura potenza può esser
causa reale di un atto? Una pura possibilità può dar origine a una realtà? Lo
può, ma in quanto presuppone, a sua volta, un atto antecedente, così come il
seme può dar origine alla pianta, ma è, a sua volta, derivato da un'altra
pianta. Non è la pura «possibilità» di vivere che genera l’uomo, ma l’opera di
un altro essere in cui la vita è già in atto: il padre, la madre. E dunque il
supporre che la scienza, nello scolaro e nel maestro, derivi solo dal pensiero
in quanto è una pura potenza o possibilità di conoscere, è così assurdo come
supporre che il figlio nasca, non dal padre e dalla madre, ma dalla
«possibilità» di vivere. Perché ci sia la scienza in potenza, ci deve essere
già stata, la scienza in atto: perché ci sia il seme, già ci vuol la pianta
completa. Ecco la differenza fra la scolastica e l'idealismo o il materialismo
moderni. Secondo questi sistemi, tutta la realtà procede, in fondo, da una pura
potenza, da un germe, un X spirituale o materiale che non è nulla al principio,
ma tutto si fa o diviene: l'essere, insomma, deriva dal non essere. Secondo la
scolastica, la realtà procede da un Atto assolutamente puro, senza mistura di
potenza, nel quale sussistono eminentemente e perfettamente realizzati e
realizzantisi ab aeterno, tutti quei valori che, nella realtà stessa, la nostra
mente poi rintraccia: Dio, principio primo e fine ultimo d'ogni cosa. Ed
ecco, quindi, la diversità fra la doctrina e l'inventio, fra l'insegnamento e
l'autodidattica, fra lo «scoprire» e l'imparare. Si capisce che per coloro i
quali seguono certe teorie filosofiche moderne, la doctrina presupponga
l'inventio: se prima non abbiamo «scoperto» o tratto dal nulla la scienza, che
cosa potremo mai insegnare? Ma in realtà, per San Tommaso e la scolastica, è
vero il contrario: l’inventio presuppone la doctrina, noi possiamo, cioè,
scoprire una scienza solo in quanto essa c'è già, ed è già in atto, se no, che
cosa scopriremmo, il vuoto? Le forme stesse realizzate nella materia che ci dà
la natura, non potrebbero ivi esistere, se prima non esistessero come pure
forme nella mente di Dio, alla quale ogni scienza deve necessariamente risalire
come a sua causa prima: sistema di idee, o rationes aeternae, come anche la
scolastica le chiama, cioè archetipi e modelli di tutte le cose. Di qui il
valore insostituibile della doctrina, cioè del vero e proprio insegnamento,
poiché, nella mente del maestro, la scienza ha un'esistenza d'ordine superiore
a quello che ha nella natura e nell'esperienza: una esistenza, se così ci si
potesse esprimere, più lontana dalla materia e più vicina a quella delle
rationes aeternae nella mente di Dio. Onde il genialissimo concetto tomistico
dell'insegnamento, fondato proprio al polo opposto dell'autodidattismo moderno,
non sull'imperfezione e sul divenire, ma sulla perfezione intrinseca della
scienza che, quasi per sovrabbondanza, sembra irraggiare ed effondere, nel suo
atto, dalla mente del maestro alla mente dello scolaro. Andare più oltre
vorrebbe dire superare i limiti della presente trattazione, addentrandosi in
una esposizione analitica del De Magistro, che, nella abituale densità e
concisione del pensiero tomistico, presenta quasi ad ogni passo dovizie di
dottrina, il cui adeguato svolgimento produrrebbe tutta una organica teoria
della educazione da esporsi in un vero e proprio trattato, e non in un breve
saggio [Chi desidera approfondire l'argomento può confrontare il nostro volume
Maestro e Scolaro. - Soc. Ed. «Vita e Pensiero», Milano, 1930]. Basti qui
ricordare, per concludere, che a questo punto il pensiero di S. Tommaso si
ricongiunge a quello di S. Agostino, dando origine a una concezione della
scienza e dell'insegnamento che si può considerare caratteristica dell'età in
cui il sapere umano s'impose la più rigida e, insieme, la più feconda
disciplina intellettuale: vogliamo dire il Medio Evo. La scienza come doctrina
piuttosto che come inventio: non perché l'invenzione non possa e non debba
avere la sua funzione legittima, ma perché la doctrina è un organo superiore,
il mezzo più elevato e sicuro, del quale Dio stesso si è servito per
ammaestrare il genere umano, al quale ha dato non solo la sensibilità, il lume
intellettuale e i primi principi, abbandonandolo poi a tutte le incertezze
d'una ricerca puramente naturale, ma una vera e propria scienza, rivelata
dapprima ai Patriarchi e ai Profeti, poi agli Apostoli, ai Padri, ai Dottori e
a tutta la Ecclesia docens, il cui perenne magistero si estende attraverso i
secoli. I geni di Agostino e di Tommaso si uniscono in questa visione della
scienza come procedente da Dio; ma mentre il primo preferisce insistere
sull'azione diretta e immediata di Dio nell'anima e sulla operazione dello
Spirito che agisce, soprannaturalmente, in ciascuno di noi, l'altro mette in
luce, piuttosto, l'azione delle cause seconde e il magistero umano che Iddio
medesimo ha voluto stabilire nella Chiesa, come organo della Rivelazione,
oltreché nella scuola come strumento della cultura puramente naturale. Ma anche
per S. Tommaso, come per S. Agostino, il problema dell'educazione e
dell’insegnamento non si vede tutto, se non si considera, oltre che sotto
l'aspetto naturale, sotto l'aspetto soprannaturale. Per questa parte il De
Magistro tomistico non s'intende, senza ricorrere a quella triplice analisi
della scienza qual è nella mente divina, nell'intelligenza angelica e
nell'intelligenza umana, che si trova nella Summa Theologica: analisi alla
quale si debbono aggiungere gli articoli che trattano della necessità e
possibilità d'una Rivelazione. Ch'è poi sempre il grande metodo della
Scolastica: stabilire, con la sola ragione, la legittimità e l'esistenza della
Rivelazione, ma poi adoperare la rivelazione per estendere, disciplinare,
consolidare l'opera della ragione. Taluno, certo, obietterà che questo
metodo e questa concezione della scienza riducono a nulla l'attività e la
libertà umana, condannate soltanto ad assoggettarsi, e a ricevere passivamente
un sapere già fatto, fuori di loro, onde, si maledirà il Medio Evo, come
l'epoca per eccellenza mortificatrice dell'umana originalità. Obiezione tanto
impressionante a prima vista, quanto intrinsecamente debole e fondata
sull'equivoco. Poiché la libertà dell'intelletto sta appunto nel
conoscere il vero, e non nel conoscere il falso; e, perciò colui che riceve
dottrina da un maestro, se questa dottrina è vera, non riceve una violazione,
anzi un incremento della propria attività e personalità, così come, viceversa,
colui che inventa o scopre, se inventa degli errori, riceve una vera propria
violazione e diminuzione della sua attività intellettuale. E, dunque, colui che
riceve scienza da un maestro più sapiente di lui, riceve non schiavitù, ma
libertà intellettuale, e più ne riceve quanto più il maestro è sapiente e,
perciò, la dottrina vera; e il massimo ne riceve quando il maestro è il più
sapiente di tutti: Dio, e la dottrina la più vera di tutte: la dottrina rivelata.
Schiavo in apparenza, il pensiero medioevale, col suo centro nella sacra
teologia, era il pensiero più libero e audace che mai ci sia stato; un pensiero
che tutto osava discutere e su tutto argomentava, un insegnamento della cui
vastità e organicità le Somme ci sono, anche oggi, testimoni; ben lungi
dall'anemica povertà dei criticismi o dei positivismi che hanno voluto liberare
le intelligenze coi dubbi e fare la luce con l'oscurità. La pedagogia moderna
cadde in un grosso equivoco quando confuse due concetti fra loro tanto diversi
come quello di attività o libertà e quello di «autodidattica», quasiché per
essere libero o attivo lo scolaro dovesse inventar tutto da sé, e non fosse
vero invece il contrario e cioè che tanto più attivo e libero sarebbe riuscito
lo scolaro quanto più energicamente gli si fosse data dal maestro una dottrina
completa e vitale; e, per converso, tanto meno libero quanto più si fosse
lasciato agli errori e alle incertezze delle sue personali invenzioni. Figlia
di età indisciplinate e sterilmente irrequiete, la pedagogia moderna ha, così,
affaticato gli intelletti giovanili senza nutrirli, e ha dato origine a quei
gravi inconvenienti che uomini, pur poco tradizionalisti e niente affatto
«medioevalisti», come il Lambruschini e il Capponi, hanno, durante il secolo
scorso, con tanta efficacia denunciato. Tra gli sforzi di questa
pedagogia così affaccendata e disorganica, il pensiero di S. Tommaso ci fa,
oggi, l'effetto che fa sempre il ritorno all'antico, quando è, come nel nostro
caso un antico «più vero» e, perciò, più «moderno» del moderno: l'effetto di
una novità addirittura rivoluzionaria. Studiare S. Tommaso vuol dire, in questa
come in tante altre questioni, ritrovare noi stessi. Una pedagogia del passato?
Diciamo, piuttosto: una pedagogia dell'avvenire. L'Educazione naturale
(Relazione presentata alla XVII Settimana Sociale dei cattolici italiani,
Firenze, 1927) In due sensi può parlarsi di educazione naturale o
soprannaturale: quanto al contenuto e quanto alla forma. Si dice, cioè, nel
primo significato, soprannaturale l'educazione che ha per oggetto nozioni od
atti che non si riducono alla natura umana e che non sono una semplice
esplicazione di potenze in essa contenute. Si dice, nel secondo significato,
soprannaturale l'educazione che, pur nel realizzare nozioni od atti,
normalmente impliciti nella natura stessa, li realizza ricorrendo a mezzi i
quali sono, essi, affatto irriducibili, ai naturali procedimenti
dell'educazione. Per spiegarmi meglio, prenderò due esempi. Ecco un uomo che
s'accosta tutti i giorni ai Sacramenti e, così facendo, progredisce via via
nelle virtù dell'umiltà, della pazienza, della temperanza, della castità e,
viceversa, reprime i vizi dell'orgoglio, dell'ira, dell'intemperanza, della
lussuria. Orbene, questa educazione potrà dirsi naturale nel contenuto, ma
soprannaturale nella forma. Naturale nel contenuto, giacché l'umiltà, la
pazienza, la temperanza, la castità, sono virtù non soltanto possibili in tesi
generale alla natura umana, ma tali che, nella maggior parte dei casi, la loro
possibilità sarebbe distrutta, se la natura umana fosse diversamente
costituita. Soprannaturale nella forma, perché quelle stesse virtù,
potenzialmente insite nella natura umana, vengono sviluppate, colla frequenza
dei Sacramenti, mediante un'azione che non è l'ordinaria disciplina o
l’ammaestramento che un uomo può esercitare, sugli altri o su se stesso, con
l'opera o la parola bensì la misteriosa, indefinibile azione d'un Dio che a noi
s'assimila attraverso le specie eucaristiche. Prendiamo, invece, un
maestro mentre spiega il catechismo ai suoi alunni, e parla loro di un Dio solo
in tre persone distinte: avremo, evidentemente, un caso di educazione naturale
per la forma e soprannaturale per il contenuto. Naturale per la forma, poiché
nulla v'ha di più consono alle possibilità della natura umana che il leggere un
libro e commentarne alcuni passi. Soprannaturale pel contenuto, poiché la
nozione del Dio uno e trino nel senso cattolico della parola, è inattingibile
alle sole forze della ragione nostra, e può ottenersi solo mediante una
rivelazione divina, che la Chiesa ci ha conservato in fedele deposito
attraverso i secoli, e alla quale l'umile maestro attinge quando istruisce
nella religione i suoi scolari. Evidentemente, oltre questi due casi in
cui nell'educazione l'oggetto è naturale e soprannaturale il metodo e
viceversa, v'hanno anche i due casi più semplici, in cui e l'oggetto e il
metodo sono entrambi naturali, o entrambi soprannaturali. Appartengono al primo
tutti i più consueti esempi di educazione e d'istruzione che siamo soliti
considerare nella scuola, nella famiglia e nel collegio, ove nozioni e
attitudini naturali all'uomo, come le arti, le scienze, la morale, la filosofia
vengono insegnate con quei metodi che la ragione e l'esperienza suggeriscono
agli educatori. Appartengono al secondo caso, invece, tutti quei fatti, così
numerosi nella storia del cristianesimo, ove una particolare rivelazione o
mozione divina è veicolo, per dir così, di nozioni, atteggiamenti od affetti
che l'uomo, secondo la pura possibilità della natura propria non avrebbe,
nonché raggiunto, neppure sospettato. Cito un solo, ma tipico esempio: la
discesa dello Spirito Santo sugli apostoli. I quali, appunto perché uomini, e
quindi abituati a misurare tutto alla stregua della natura umana, avevano fino
allora trovato di colore oscuro, benché Cristo medesimo le avesse loro
inculcate, tante verità soprannaturali come la preannunziata morte e
risurrezione del Salvatore, la redenzione del genere umano attraverso le
lacrime e il dolore d'un Dio, la concordanza fra l'antica legge e la nuova, i
rapporti fra il Padre ed il Figlio e via discorrendo, verità che, invece, dopo
che le lingue di fuoco furono discese sul loro capo, s'impressero così
profondamente nel loro animo da permetter poi loro d'insegnarle, con
quell'efficacia che sappiamo, a tutto il mondo allora conosciuto. Io non
parlerò adesso - poiché non è mio compito - della educazione in quanto
soprannaturale nel contenuto e nella forma, e neppure soltanto nel contenuto.
Io non parlerò dell'educazione, cioè, in quanto puramente soprannaturale, e
neppure in quanto veicolo di nozioni, o di attitudini soprannaturali. Mi
limiterò, dunque, a parlare dell'educazione naturale. II Sarebbe
abbastanza interessante poter esaminare alla luce di queste nozioni oggi molto
trascurate, quando non addirittura respinte e derise come assurde dagli
studiosi, le più importanti concezioni pedagogiche, nelle quali il pensiero
umano si è, attraverso la storia, rispecchiato. Ma, non potendo arrischiarci in
un lavoro di così vasta mole, ci limiteremo ad affermare semplicemente che
tutte le più importanti teorie dell'educazione sono, in un certo senso,
naturalistiche, perché tutte confidano, anche quando non vogliono riconoscerlo,
in una immanente capacità della natura umana, che le permette di svolgersi
colle sue proprie forze, verso la verità e la moralità. Capacità che, essa
stessa, si può coltivare e aiutare con mezzi puramente umani come
l'insegnamento, l'esempio, il governo, la disciplina, dei quali è formata,
appunto, l'educazione naturalmente e umanamente intesa. Senza questa fiducia, e
nelle forze stesse della natura umana e nella possibilità di aiutarle,
l'educazione sarebbe un perditempo assurdo. Se l'uomo non fosse fatto per la
verità e la moralità, egli non potrebbe conoscere l'una e praticare l'altra,
come effettivamente non la conoscono né la praticano gli animali, i minerali o
le piante. Se, d'altra parte, in questo suo sforzo verso il vero e il bene, la
natura umana non potesse essere aiutata con mezzi e strumenti adatti tanto
varrebbe chiudere tutte le scuole, bruciare tutti i libri, abolire tutti i
maestri, e lasciare che ognuno se la sbrigasse, alla meglio, da sé. Anzi, non
si sarebbe trovato mai nessuno così pazzo da spender tempo e fatiche
nell'educare i propri simili; o, se si fosse trovato, la disperata inutilità
del tentativo, lo avrebbe, subito, persuaso di smettere; e scuole, collegi,
libri, maestri, non sarebbero mai stati. Fin qui, dunque, fino a questa legittima
persuasione intorno alla possibilità di educare l'uomo con mezzi naturali,
tutte le teorie pedagogiche si debbono trovar concordi: né la pedagogia
cristiana stessa, potrebbe fare eccezione. E lo dimostra la storia del
cattolicesimo, il quale, nonostante la grandissima importanza da lui
attribuita, nell'educazione, all'elemento soprannaturale, ha sempre rifiutato
come eretica, la teoria la quale afferma impossibile all'uomo il conseguimento
del vero e del bene senza una positiva rivelazione divina e proclamando
«errori» la filosofia e «peccato» le virtù dei pagani, volentieri condannerebbe
al rogo come futili sciocchezze, ogni scienza, ogni progresso, ogni civiltà.
Così, invece di gettar via la scienza del paganesimo, il cristianesimo poté
mantenerne viva la fiaccola nei suoi chiostri, nelle sue scuole, nelle sue
Università e, ricongiungendo sapientemente il nuovo all'antico, poté serbare
intatta quella tradizione della civiltà occidentale che ci fa, oggi,
giustamente orgogliosi. Ma, oltre questo «naturalismo» ch'è, in fondo,
una ragionevole fiducia nelle forze della natura umana, la quale, se ha in sé
delle tendenze al male e all'errore, ha pure in sé delle tendenze altrettanto
spontanee al bene e alla verità; oltre questo saggio naturalismo senza cui non
è possibile parlare neppure di educazione, molte dottrine pedagogiche, specie
moderne, hanno in sé un altro «naturalismo» niente affatto utile o necessario
all'educazione. Tale naturalismo, non si limita a dichiarare che l'uomo ha
nella sua propria natura le energie necessarie al suo ordinato svolgimento:
afferma che ogni educazione si riduce allo spontaneo svolgimento della natura
umana secondo le proprie, immanenti leggi costitutive. E non si limita a
riconoscere che l'uomo ha nella sua propria natura una tendenza al vero e al
bene, cioè che è fatto, in ultima analisi, per la conoscenza dell'uno e
l'attuazione dell'altro, ma afferma che l'uomo solo è a sé stesso il vero e il
bene, perché appunto nello svolgimento delle sue umane energie, o per sé prese
o nei loro rapporti colla circostante natura, consiste il solo vero e il solo
bene possibile. E non si limita, quindi, ad affermare la legittimità d'una
educazione naturale dell'uomo, ma respinge come assurda e satireggia come
ridicola pur l'idea d'una educazione soprannaturale, o, comunque, di un
elemento soprannaturale nell'educazione. III Distinguiamo, anzitutto, due
cose che si sogliono, per lo più, confondere: la possibilità d'una educazione
naturale, e la sua effettiva realtà. Che l'uomo possa essere educato, e, anzi,
sia fatto per essere educato al vero e al bene, non c'è dubbio, ma che tutti
gli uomini siano, effettivamente, educati al vero e al bene, che tutti gli
uomini arrivino, in realtà, alla conoscenza del vero e alla pratica del bene,
almeno nella misura necessaria a ciascuno per condurre decorosamente la sua
esistenza umana, nessuno vorrebbe certo, affermarlo, fino al giorno in cui
tutti i viziosi e gl'ignoranti non saranno eliminati dalla faccia della terra.
Si può, è vero, sempre sottilizzare e rispondere che nemmeno l'uomo più rozzo
ed ignorante del mondo vive senza accogliere nella mente un barlume di verità,
che nemmeno il peggiore delinquente può fare a meno di vagheggiare, in fondo
all’animo, qualche sentimento buono, e che, perciò, l'educazione del genere
umano, fino a un certo punto, avviene sempre, e non può non avvenire. Ma è
facile obiettare che la bontà la quale pure possiamo scoprire nel delinquente,
o la verità che regna anche nel cervello dell'ignorante, non sono quella verità
e quella bontà di cui si preoccupa l'educazione. Prodotte da una necessità
delle cose, e non da una libera adesione dello spirito, inconsapevoli di sé,
esse si distruggono e ci danno come risultato l'ignoranza nell'ignorante, e la
delinquenza nel delinquente. O vorremo presentare il delinquente e l'ignorante
come il tipo dell'uomo «educato»? Una tale ipotesi è così assurda che si
confuta da sé. Se ci dovessimo contentare di quel vero e di quel bene che, come
lo Spirito di Dio, riempiono il mondo e che, anche negandoli, l'uomo è sforzato
in ogni condizione a riconoscere col solo fatto di esistere e di pensare, da
lungo tempo l'umanità avrebbe chiuso le scuole e bruciato i libri e ricacciato
i fanciulli ad istruirsi nella selva primitiva. Se, invece così non ha fatto, e
le scuole e i libri, e i metodi costituiscono ancora la sua preoccupazione
dominante, si è perché tutti sanno che il vero e il bene nell' uomo
inconsapevole sono come l'oro, che non ha alcun valore finché non sia estratto
dal fango col quale si trova mescolato. Torniamo, dunque, alla nostra primitiva
affermazione. Benché l'uomo sia, per natura, potenzialmente educabile, questa
possibilità non è ancora una realtà; e tutti i laboriosi sforzi fatti dal
genere umano per educarsi, sono l'implicito riconoscimento della notevole
differenza che intercede fra quella possibilità e la sua realizzazione
effettiva. Riescono, almeno, questi sforzi? L'educazione naturale riesce,
almeno, a portare ciascun uomo che apre gli occhi alla luce, alla conoscenza
del vero e alla pratica del bene? Non pretendiamo ch'essa formi sempre dei
santi, degli scienziati o degli eroi: forma almeno, sempre, onesti uomini,
capaci lavoratori, buoni padri di famiglia? Ahimè, questa volta la risposta è
troppo facile davvero! Se così fosse, oggi che, nelle nazioni civili
l'istruzione è obbligatoria e la scuola tutti accoglie fra le sue mura, non
dovrebbero esserci delinquenti, viziosi, vagabondi o inetti, le prigioni
dovrebbero chiudersi, gli ospedali diminuire notevolmente; le famiglie, tutte
ordine pace e armonia, non conoscerebbero i tristi germi che ne rodono la vita;
la corruzione non insudicerebbe più carte ed anime colle sue oscene figure;
dappertutto il lavoro innalzerebbe la sua lieta canzone, e la gioia e la
serenità soltanto tesserebbero innanzi ai nostri occhi il loro ordito
incantevole. Ahimè! Basta dare uno sguardo alla cronaca dei giornali per vedere
questo sogno svanire come nebbia, al tocco della triste realtà. Anche nel più
modesto mestiere, sono in maggior numero i capaci o gl'incapaci? i dotti o
gl'ignoranti? i laboriosi o i fannulloni? gl'imbroglioni o gli onesti? No, non
sarebbero tanto stimata l'onestà, tanto ricercate e pregiate la capacità, la
competenza, l'attitudine al lavoro, se fosse possibile trovarle a tutte le
cantonate! Ma poi, badiamo, non si tratta, qui, di più o di meno, di
maggioranza o minoranza, che la scienza non si fa come i congressi o le
elezioni. Quand'anche l'educazione universalmente diffusa avesse reso tutti
onesti, tutti bravi, tutti capaci, tutti intelligenti, e di fronte a questi
fortunati mortali un uomo - uno solo - fosse uscito dalle nostre scuole
vizioso, fannullone, stupido e caparbio, io dico che quest'uno solo basterebbe
colla sua esistenza per dare una solenne smentita a tutti i maestri e i
pedagogisti e i metodi e i sistemi di cui si vanta la nostra civiltà.
Quand'anche non si potesse citare che un solo uomo - uno solo - circondato da
tutte le cure e cresciuto in una famiglia esemplare, e affidato ai migliori
maestri, e tirato su fin dall'infanzia nelle più virtuose abitudini, dal quale
poi fosse venuto fuori un giorno un bel fior di canaglia - quand'anche non si
potesse citare che un solo esempio di questo genere - l'educazione umana,
l'educazione naturale, dovrebbe considerarsi incapace di fatto (benché capace
di diritto) a realizzare i propri fini: incapace a far diventare realtà
concreta, quella potenzialità, quella tendenza al bene e al vero che esiste
nella natura umana. E che importa conquistare il mondo, quando si è persa una -
una sola - anima? In quell'anima era tutto un mondo: in lei non è stato
sconfitto solo un individuo, ma il pensiero e il volere umano, irreparabile
sconfitta, poiché quel pensiero e quel volere sono appunto la natura stessa che
non solo si supponeva educabile, ma si presumeva di fatto educare coi nostri
sottili accorgimenti. E invece tale natura ci si ribella e ci si mostra d'un
tratto, in quell'unico individuo, chiusa, avversa, inaccessibile a tutti i
mezzi coi quali l'abbiamo lavorata; come preda d'un fato misterioso contro cui
ogni nostro potere sembra disarmato. IV Finora abbiamo parlato in
generale. Ma le stesse considerazioni particolari e tecniche di cui è piena la
storia della pedagogia, valgono a confermare la nostra tesi. Vediamolo, anzitutto,
per il problema dell'istruzione. Che cosa c'è di più facile, in certo senso,
dell'istruire? Il maestro parla, il discepolo ascolta. Le idee, mediante quel
loro naturale veicolo che è il linguaggio, passano dalla mente dell'uno alla
mente dell'altro. Se il discepolo è stato «attento», se i ghiribizzi della sua
fantasia non l'hanno distratto, se un po' di pigrizia non lo ha intorpidito, se
il maestro ha messo nelle sue spiegazioni l'ordine e la chiarezza necessari, la
lezione ha raggiunto il suo scopo, e lo scolaro imparato ciò che doveva
imparare. In sostanza si tratta soltanto di assicurarsi che nessuno dei piccoli
malanni or ora enumerati abbia intralciato il regolare andamento delle cose, e
per fare questa verifica lo stesso strumento che ci ha già servito ci può
ancora servire. Il linguaggio, il naturale veicolo delle idee, già usato per la
lezione, servirà per l'interrogazione e le ripetizioni, le quali dimostreranno
se il discepolo è stato attento e ha compreso, se il maestro è riuscito, nelle
sue spiegazioni, chiaro ed efficace. E quando, sventuratamente, così non
fosse stato, chi ha prodotto il male, ci darà anche il rimedio. Il linguaggio è
sempre là per correggere, chiarire, spiegare di nuovo, interrogare di nuovo, e
dove non bastasse la parola parlata c'è la parola scritta: libri, quaderni,
appunti, riassunti e così via. Ebbene, la storia della pedagogia,
specialmente moderna, è, si potrebbe dire, tutta una critica a questo
semplicissimo e vetusto fra i metodi, di cui l'umanità si è sempre servita per
istruirsi e di cui, con le debite cautele, sempre si dovrà servire. La parola,
infatti, e, con essa l’idea, non è un oggetto materiale che si possa
trasmettere da una mano all'altra, una moneta che l'alunno riceve dal maestro e
chiude nel borsellino. La parola è, prima che suono o segno esterno, atto
interno del nostro spirito, e se questo atto non si produce, l'alunno può
ripetere il suono o il segno senza aver capito niente della cosa significata,
come effettivamente accade tante volte nella scuola. Eppure la ragione di tale
spiacevole inconveniente che, spesso, riduce a una vuota accozzaglia di frasi
nella mente giovanile l'istruzione impartita con maggior cura, è una ragione
chiarissima. La parola è segno dell'idea, e l'idea è, se mi consente il paragone,
lo strumento di una superiore e delicata civiltà che l'uomo adulto e già colto
si è conquistata col sudor della fronte: è un termine ideale che si è ottenuto
astraendolo dai particolari dell'esperienza sensibile. Ma innanzi a questa
superiore civiltà l'alunno e, più, il fanciullo, è ancora un «barbaro» che vive
in mezzo alle cose sensibili, particolari, e ancora non ha imparato ad astrarne
l'idea, o, se lo ha imparato, ancora non sa mantenersi per lungo tempo in tale
sfera superiore, né può lavorare sulle idee, e seguire tutta una catena di
concetti, di definizioni, di ragionamenti, come la scuola pretende. Ne segue un
errore gravissimo, da parte del maestro, il quale crede di aiutare tanto più lo
scolaro, quanto più gli presenta la materia in ristretto, ridotta a poche,
semplici e chiare idee, e non s'accorge, invece, che tanto più rende
l'insegnamento difficile, quanto più presenta idee «semplici», che sono appunto
le più universali e le più lontane dall'esperienza sensibile, nella quale il
fanciullo vive. E allora questi, non potendo capire l'idea, s'appiglia al
partito più facile, e ripete la parola e quanto più il maestro s'affanna a
chiarire, spiegare e «semplificare», tanto più diventa impossibile al discepolo
ripetere altro che parole. Per togliere questi inconvenienti, la
pedagogia moderna ha proposto un celebre e decisivo rimedio: conformar l'istruzione
al procedimento con cui naturalmente si formano in noi le idee
astratte. Procedere, cioè, dal particolare all'universale, dal senso
all'intelletto, dall'esperienza al concetto. Non presentare mai la parola senza
la cosa, l'idea senza l'immagine, la definizione senza l'oggetto definito:
procurare, anzi, che l'alunno stesso opportunamente guidato trovi da sé l'idea
sotto lo stimolo della cosa e dell'immagine. È il cosiddetto metodo «intuitivo»
che innegabilmente, se lo si adopera bene, dà buoni risultati, e al quale è da
augurarsi che ci si ispiri sempre più e meglio in quella riforma di tutte le
istituzioni scolastiche che le moderne nazioni civili vanno da qualche tempo
effettuando. Ma badiamo bene: neppure il metodo intuitivo, pur inteso e
applicato nel miglior modo possibile, è sicuro. Giacché, anche l'esperienza
sensibile, partendo dalla quale si vuol condurre l'alunno alle idee, non è un
oggetto o un processo meccanico, ma un atto dell'anima, che non ha nessun
significato senza un esplicito concorso da parte dell'alunno. E' stato detto
assai bene; anche per spiegare che due e due fanno quattro, avete un bel
prendere il ragazzo, e fargli stendere due dita della destra e due della
sinistra, e poi avvicinarle e far contare: se il ragazzo è «disattento», se si
rifiuta di far scattare la scintilla ulteriore del pensiero, se «non vuole»
ascoltare, nessuna costrizione, fosse anche la tortura, sarà capace di
immettere nella sua testa ribelle quella semplicissima verità. Sicché in ultima
analisi, quantunque i buoni metodi abbiano, certo, molta importanza, tutta
l'istruzione dipende da circostanze imponderabili e imprevedibili che solo la
genialità di un maestro artista può, volta per volta, determinare. Ora, siccome
i maestri geniali ed artisti sono, necessariamente, una minoranza, ne viene di
conseguenza che i tre quarti dell'umanità, affidati a maestri non geniali e non
artisti, ricevono una istruzione difettosa. Ma non facciamo troppo facile
la nostra dimostrazione. Concediamo pure che il metodo «intuitivo» possa, da
solo, garantirci per tutti una buona istruzione [Il che evidentemente non è,
poiché il metodo intuitivo, se contiene un principio gnoseologico verissimo,
troppo spesso ignora o fraintende il valore del linguaggio, ch'è molto
superiore a quello dei sensibili esterni. Si cfr. nel saggio precedente la
teoria di San Tommaso in proposito]. Supponiamo anche ch'esso sia sempre facile
ad applicare dappertutto; anche, mettiamo, alle scienze morali e filosofiche,
nelle quali, pure, tutti vedono non esser tanto semplice trovare, quando
occorre, una esperienza corrispondente alle singole idee. Io domando: chi vi
garantisce che quel metodo possa essere applicato in tutte le scuole? Badate:
sono secoli che la pedagogia conosce i difetti del verbalismo scolastico, e i
pregi del metodo intuitivo; sono secoli che i migliori studiosi lamentano il
deplorevole insuccesso dei sistemi abituali; sono secoli che «sapere
scolastico» è sinonimo di sapore falso, freddo, morto, inutile: eppure ancor
oggi, in mezzo a tutta la nostra civiltà, una migliore organizzazione
dell'istruzione scolastica non s'è potuta ottenere se non incidentalmente, in
alcuni istituti-modello, in alcuni ordini e gradi di scuole, in alcuni paesi
privilegiati. Nella maggior parte dei casi, la scuola continua ad esser tutta
spiegazioni verbali, definizioni astratte, ripetizioni, classificazioni, suoni
e parole che gli studenti ingozzano spesso senza intenderne nulla, per
ripeterle tal quali agli esami, e dimenticano subito dopo. E se un principio
scientifico cosi evidente come quello del metodo intuitivo ha dovuto aspettare
per secoli una parziale e incompleta realizzazione, che sarà di altre verità pedagogiche
più astruse e complicate, eppure non meno necessarie a un buon andamento
dell'istruzione? Quanti altri secoli dovremo attendere perché siano messe in
pratica? Ma supponiamo, ancora, che i metodi secondo cui l'istruzione
s'impartisce nelle scuole siano sempre e dappertutto i migliori possibili;
supponiamo tutti i maestri buoni e tutti i discepoli volonterosi; supponiamo
rimosse le condizioni economiche e sociali che oggi impediscono, o limitano a
taluno la frequenza scolastica. Otterremo, per questo, un'umanità
sufficientemente istruita in quelle fondamentali verità che importa all'uomo
conoscere? Ahimè, non solo il genio, ma anche la comune intelligenza concluderà
che non è in poter nostro ottenerla quando vogliamo. Perché un Dante o un
Galileo può formarsi nonostante tutti i difetti delle scuole, e, viceversa, i
più perfetti metodi del migliore istituto modello debbono confessarsi vinti
dalla impenetrabile stupidità di un ragazzetto? Perché uno nasce aquila ed un
altro gallina? Perché i procedimenti che riescono bene con un alunno,
falliscono con un altro? Domande alle quali non si può dare che la solita
risposta: dipendere il successo dell' educazione o dell' istruzione, da
circostanze imponderabili le quali variano caso per caso. Il che significa, in
fondo, riconoscere l'incertezza, la precarietà e il limitato valore di tutti i
sistemi e i metodi dell'educazione umana e naturale, supposta anche nelle più
ideali e favorevoli condizioni. V Questo, per l'istruzione. Che cosa
bisognerà dire per l'educazione, intesa come formazione morale e, in genere,
formazione della volontà? Se pare tanto difficile la lotta contro l'ignoranza,
che sarà della lotta contro la pigrizia, contro la sensualità, contro
l'orgoglio, contro l'egoismo, contro tutte le tendenze inferiori della natura
umana? Anche qui, la storia della pedagogia è tutta un lamento sulla assoluta
insufficienza e di questa educazione in se stessa, e dei metodi usati per
conseguirla. Uomini dotti, pur coi difetti dei loro metodi, scuole e collegi e
atenei ne producono abbastanza, ma uomini temperati, casti, umili, pronti al
sacrificio, generosi verso il prossimo? E si capisce. Siccome la volontà
non può muoversi alla cieca, senza il lume della conoscenza, le difficoltà
dell'educazione morale sono in certo modo doppie: sono, per una parte, quelle
stesse dell'istruzione, e per l'altra quelle specifiche dell' educazione. È già
difficile per le ragioni or ora esaminate, che tutti gli uomini possano
ricevere una sufficiente istruzione morale: che, cioè, il «non rubare», «non
dire il falso testimonio», «non desiderare la donna d'altri» e simili precetti
della morale naturale siano appresi da tutti, non come semplici suoni di parole
che si ripetono pensando ad altro, ma come nozioni positive che suscitano una
vera, interna convinzione. Ma, anche se questo si potesse garantire, quando
ciascun uomo vi sapesse dimostrare con eccellenti ragioni filosofiche tutti i
precetti della morale, si sarebbe raggiunto appena per metà lo scopo
desiderato. Non basta saperli quei precetti: occorre metterli in pratica; non
basta pensarli: bisogna volerli e applicarli; e non basta metterli in pratica
una volta sola, bisogna farli diventare abitudine di tutta la vita. Saper che
non si deve rubare e, ciò nonostante, appropriarsi, quando si può farlo senza
pericolo, la roba altrui, predicar la temperanza ed essere intemperanti,
esaltare la castità e darsi al vizio, non significa certo essere educati
moralmente. Ora, il difetto che la pedagogia moderna ha più criticato nella
educazione morale corrente, si è appunto il vecchio pregiudizio che basti
predicare e insegnare e far leggere libri o novellette morali, per produrre la
virtù: laddove l'insegnamento e la predica e la buona lettura, sono certo
necessari ma concludono poco o nulla se la virtù non è praticata e fatta
costantemente praticare attraverso le azioni. Il tirocinio effettivo
dell'azione deve costituire per la volontà quella medesima base solida che
l'esperienza sensibile è per l'intelletto: le idee morali debbono, per imprimersi,
ricevere dalla pratica quel positivo significato che le idee scientifiche
ricevono dalla sensazione degli oggetti particolari. Ma questo tirocinio
effettivo, pratico, dell'azione, abbastanza facile ad organizzarsi finche si
tratta di azioni materiali e, in certo modo, esterne, tendenti a rinvigorire la
volontà come l'esercizio ginnastico rinvigorisce i muscoli, diventa poi
difficilissimo quando si tratta d'azioni più specificamente morali, ove la
volontà stessa deve ottemperare ad un giudizio della ragione che le indica
questo come male e quello come bene. La teoria pedagogica in materia che va per
la maggiore è la famosa teoria delle conseguenze naturali: teoria che vorrebbe
allontanare dal vizio (e, per converso, avvicinare alla virtù) col lasciare che
l'azione malvagia sia esperimentata dall'educando stesso nelle sue conseguenze
dolorose. Ma tale teoria, sventuratamente, ha il difetto d'essere inapplicabile
proprio in quei casi dove maggiore sarebbe il bisogno. Io posso, cioè, lasciare
benissimo che il fanciullo, dopo aver rotto un vetro, sia punito della sua
sbadataggine dalla rigida aria invernale che viene a pungerlo attraverso i
telai della finestra; posso lasciargli fare una scorpacciata di dolci
perché provi, poi, il mal di ventre e l'amara purga; posso lasciargli prendere
un frutto dall'albero del vicino, perché il padrone gl'insegni, colle sue rudi
maniere campagnole, il rispetto della proprietà. Ma non posso permettere che
quello stesso fanciullo, cresciuto in età, perda ogni suo avere al giuoco per
imparare quanto sia dannoso il giuoco, o si sciupi l'anima nelle peggiori
compagnie per comprendere quanto sia dannosa la cattiva compagnia, o si dia ai
facili amori per provare l'amaro sconforto delle abitudini viziose. Posso
seguire Rousseau finché si tratta di rompere un vetro, non posso seguirlo,
quando mi chiede di entrare, pel servizio del mio allievo, in un luogo di
corruzione. Il rimedio sarebbe peggiore del male. È vero bensì, che
l'esperienza acquistata nelle piccole azioni si riflette nelle grandi e che lo
stesso alunno, il quale ha riconosciuto a spese proprie ben fondato il
consiglio dell'educatore a proposito di un vetro o di un frutto, avrà una
ragione positiva per ritenerlo ben fondato anche quando si tratterà di cose più
importanti. Ma appunto in questo passaggio sta il pericolo. Chi ci garantisce
che, invece, abituato dall'infanzia a provar tutto da sé, il giovane non trovi
strana e irragionevole questa pretesa di frenarlo, proprio sulle soglie della
maturità? Chi ci garantisce che egli, fatto ormai quasi uomo non respinga come
sciocchi e puerili i consigli dell'educatore e non voglia, una volta di più,
esperimentare per conto suo? Badiamo: non è detto che questo secondo caso debba
sempre verificarsi, ma non è detto neppure che debba sempre verificarsi il
primo. In teoria sono possibili ambedue: e, pur ammettendo che in pratica si
dia eguale probabilità d'incontrar l'uno e l'altro, l'efficacia d'una
educazione che raggiunge il suo scopo solo in una metà dei casi, diventa molto
problematica. In ogni modo, siamo già entrati anche qui nelle circostanze
imponderabili che variano volta per volta e che solo la sagacia d'un geniale
educatore può, volta per volta, scoprire. Ora, noi sappiamo che gli educatori
geniali non si fabbricano a piacere, quando se ne ha bisogno, e neanche dove ci
sono riescono sempre, in ogni momento e per ogni educando, egualmente
geniali. Ma l'educazione morale incontra, purtroppo, un altro ostacolo
ben più grave di quel che non sia la deficienza dei metodi o l'imperizia degli
educatori. Tale ostacolo all'educazione della volontà, se ci si permette il
bisticcio, sta proprio nella volontà male educata: nella volontà umana che
tende, sì, alla virtù, ma la trova dura, difficile e mortificante; e allora
s'ingegna di addolcirla, di mitigarla, di conciliarla cogli interessi e le
passioni: di falsificarla, insomma, per proprio uso e consumo. La storia della
filosofia ce ne offre a bizzeffe, di queste morali falsificate che esaltano a
gran voce l'ideale e il dovere, ma si trincerano in un prudente silenzio quando
si tratta, questo ideale e questo dovere, di vederli concretarsi in un positivo
sistema di azioni o, peggio, forniscono criteri coi quali l'uomo arriva a
giustificare qualsiasi azione. Le dispute, le eterne dispute fra scienziati e
fra filosofi non sono mai state così universali come nel campo dell'etica. E
chi ci garantisce che quei pochi i quali vedono giusto, riusciranno ad imporre,
nella scuola e nell'educazione in genere, la loro morale, contro gli altri,
tanto più numerosi, che sbagliano per deliberato proposito, e che hanno a
favore delle loro dottrine le fragorose voci dell' interesse, delle passioni,
delle inferiori tendenze umane ricalcitranti contro ogni severa disciplina?
VI Da queste considerazioni, e da altre ancora che si potrebbero fare,
emerge una conclusione niente affatto confortante per l'educazione naturale. Se
gl'inconvenienti che abbiamo notato sussistono, se, per essere bene educato,
l'uomo ha bisogno e d'un geniale maestro, e di un buon metodo e di una buona
scuola, e di una buona famiglia, e di una infinità di altre circostanze
imponderabili che rendono fecondo nell'animo suo il concorso di tutti questi
elementi, allora ogni uomo che nasce ha tanta probabilità di essere educato,
quanta, poniamo, di essere ricco, o di vincere alla lotteria, o di diventare un
grande poeta. Con la differenza però, che mentre ogni uomo può vivere benissimo
senza ricchezze, senza vincite alla lotteria e senza essere grande poeta, non
può vivere, intendo vivere da uomo e non da bruto, senza essere morale e
ragionevole, senza adoperare l'intelletto e la volontà, caratteristiche
essenziali della sua natura, per gli scopi pei quali gli furono dati. In questo
senso, per poter riuscire nel suo intento, l'educazione avrebbe l'obbligo
d'essere più universale, pronta e vigile della stessa carità. Eppure,
nonostante tali scarsissime possibilità di riuscita noi dobbiamo, dopo tutto,
meravigliarci non che l'educazione faccia poco, ma che faccia troppo. Invece di
produrre, come dovrebbe a rigor di logica, accanto a un'aristocrazia di pochi
superuomini, sterminate moltitudini avvolte nella peggiore barbarie,
l'educazione mantiene, innegabilmente, nell'umanità un livello intellettuale e
morale non disprezzabile. Scuole, istituti, maestri, compiono la loro missione:
e tanto la compiono che nei paesi ove queste istituzioni sono sconosciute, la
civiltà, e intellettualmente e moralmente, è molto più indietro; tanto la
compiono che, a un limite estremo, se noi potessimo pensare un uomo il quale
dalla nascita in poi non avesse mai ricevuto alcuna educazione, sia pur
difettosa, né dalla madre, né dagli altri suoi simili, dovremmo immaginarlo più
che come un selvaggio, come un animale; tanto la compiono che è in gran parte
merito loro se un popolano dei nostri tempi ha, in molte materie, più
cognizioni che un dotto dell'antichità, e se, dopo secoli e secoli, gli uomini
hanno imparato a camminare per le strade senza sbudellarsi a vicenda e a
mangiare, bere e dormire senza affogarsi nella sporcizia e nel sudiciume; che
di questi progressi medesimi l'uomo possa talvolta abusare, facendosene mezzi
di peggioramento anziché di miglioramento, chi lo nega? Ma di che cosa non può
mai abusare l'uomo? In realtà il genere umano quando spende tante fatiche
nella propria educazione ha fede in un successo le cui probabilità sono,
secondo la logica della ragione naturale, addirittura irrisorie, e che pure si
ottiene, non colla regolarità e l'ampiezza che ciascun cuore generoso
desidererebbe, ma, tutto considerato, in una misura assai larga. Chi affida un
figlio alla scuola sa benissimo di avere soltanto una scarsissima probabilità
ch'esso venga educato coi metodi più perfetti e dai maestri più geniali, e con
tutto quell'insieme di circostanze interne ed esterne necessario a rendere
feconda l'educazione. Pure, ha fede nella buona riuscita, dei suoi e degli
altrui sforzi; ha fede, diremmo, in una misteriosa equazione fra possibilità e
realtà, fra l'educazione in quanto teoricamente possibile e l'educazione in
quanto effettivamente avvenuta, una fede che nessun calcolo potrebbe
giustificare, anzi della quale ogni calcolo ci mostrerebbe il tenuissimo
fondamento. Ora, che cosa è mai questa fede apparentemente irragionevole? E chi
è che realizza quell'equazione misteriosa? È la forza stessa delle cose,
l'evoluzione stessa dell'universo, risponde il positivista. È la
razionalità del reale, lo sviluppo dello spirito, dell'«io» immanente ed
onnipresente, risponde l'idealista. Poiché l'uno e l'altro, in fondo, nelle
loro pedagogie riconoscono lo scarso potere dell'educazione naturale, delle sue
istituzioni, dei suoi procedimenti metodici, e l'uno e l'altro debbono
ammettere, nella formazione intellettuale e morale del genere umano, una forza
sconosciuta, superiore ad ogni nostro accorgimento; un disegno complessivo
della realtà al quale sembra conforme che certe educazioni debbano riuscire
nonostante tutti i loro difetti, e certe altre fallire nonostante tutti i loro
pregi. Ma per il positivista come per l'idealista questa forza non è superiore
alla natura: è la natura stessa, spirito o materia che sia; è l'evoluzione o la
storia che forma l'individuo educato più o meno, come il mare forma onde
nell'uno o nell'altro modo senza che di tale sua cangiante irrequietezza si
possa addurre un motivo. Il fatto non ha altra ragione dal fatto stesso: è così
perché è così. Pure, questa stessa, implicita confessione dei nostri avversari
è preziosa, poiché, volendo allontanare il mistero lo conferma, e volendo tutto
ridurre a principi naturali, riconosce che l'azione stessa di questi principi
è, nei suoi effetti e nelle sue forme, imprevedibile secondo la natura e la
ragione. «Materia», «spirito», «evoluzione o storia» sono tanti nomi del
mistero: tanti nomi i quali esprimono una realtà che trascende ogni nostro
singolo raziocinio ed ogni nostra esperienza concreta. Ma sono nomi
oscuri e contorti, che non possono appagare nessuno. Spiegare il fatto col
fatto stesso, dire: è così perché è così, significa non spiegare nulla.
L'educatore sarebbe come il giocatore che arrischia il suo avere sulla
probabilità che i dadi o le carte o la ruota producano una fra le tante
possibili combinazioni. L'equazione fra possibilità e realtà si compirebbe a
caso. Ora, la fede dell'educatore ha, invece, un significato ben diverso, non
riposa su un calcolo di probabilità e nemmeno sull'idea di una vaga razionalità
sparsa in giro per l'universo: riposa sull'idea di un potere consapevole ed
intelligente che dirige l'umanità nei suoi deboli sforzi per il proprio miglioramento,
secondo un preciso disegno di cui a mala pena possiamo, talvolta, intravedere
qualche parte. Potere che compie, nonostante tutte le nostre deficienze,
l'educazione del genere umano anche là dove parrebbe temerario tentarla. Potere
che forma Dante e Galileo nonostante i difetti delle scuole, e al quale si deve
se l'ignorante e il delinquente non si moltiplicano in orde barbariche per
abbattere la civiltà. Questo potere è il potere di Dio. Dio è l'autore della
misteriosa equazione che si compie tutti i giorni, nell'opera educativa, fra
possibilità e realtà. La pedagogia e la filosofia debbono fermarsi qui.
Più oltre, bisognerebbe entrare nell'ordine soprannaturale mostrando come il
divino Educatore abbia compiuto e compia la Sua missione, sia con una
Rivelazione che ha offerto a tutti gli uomini le verità e i precetti morali
onde avevano bisogno, senza le incertezze della scienza umana, sia con una
assistenza positiva, con la grazia di cui attraverso la vivente azione della
Chiesa ciascuno partecipa; sia in quei modi speciali ed imprevisti che alla Sua
saggezza sono parsi opportuni. Ma la pedagogia e la filosofia possono
garantire, come abbiamo visto, almeno questa importante conclusione. Senza
ricorrere a un elemento soprannaturale, l'educazione, anche nell'ordine
puramente naturale, rimarrebbe indispensabile e, nello stesso tempo,
irraggiungibile al genere umano. Pur non potendolo dire assolutamente
necessario, nel senso logico della parola, poiché l'idea d'una educazione
naturale e della sua conseguente riuscita non presenta alcuna contraddizione
intrinseca, dobbiamo dirlo, l'intervento soprannaturale nell'educazione,
necessario di una necessità relativa e morale: utile nello stesso senso
in cui i teologi parlano della «utilità» della rivelazione. Ecco una
sfera lanciata attraverso lo spazio. Nulla v'è d'assurdo all'idea ch'essa debba
indefinitamente continuare nel suo moto, anzi, appunto, questo dovrebbe
accadere secondo i principi della fisica. Pure la sfera, a un certo punto,
arresta il suo cammino e cade; gli attriti e le resistenze hanno assorbito la
forza da cui era animata. Lo stesso può dirsi della educazione naturale. La
natura umana tende spontaneamente al vero e al bene, è indefinitamente
educabile e perfettibile, dovrebbe continuare all'infinito il suo progresso.
Pure, gli attriti opposti dalle sue tendenze inferiori, dall'interesse, dalle
passioni, dalla sensualità, ben presto la fermano in cammino, e ci vogliono
tesori d'accorgimento, di sapienza, di genialità per farla progredire, per dare
ad un uomo solo, anche la più modesta educazione, così come ci vogliono
macchine complicate e delicate per dare ad un solo oggetto una limitata
quantità di moto. Che diremmo di un fisico il quale volesse far marciare tutti
i corpi, compresi i pianeti e le stelle, a forza di macchine? Che, perciò, di
un pedagogista il quale voglia educare tutto il genere umano colle scuole e i
maestri, i collegi ed i libri? L'educazione naturale è, come il moto perpetuo,
possibile solamente in teoria. Ma per realizzarla, per realizzarla in modo che
tutta l'umanità abbia il suo vero e il suo bene, i suoi giorni laboriosi e i
suoi riposi meritati, le sue messi e le sue industrie, il pane del corpo e il
pane dello spirito, la sua dignità e la sua fede, è necessario il braccio di
Colui che sospese negli spazi, fiammante tappeto ad un trono invisibile, la
corona di soli che i nostri occhi intravedono in un lontano luccichio dorato,
nella notte. L'Anima della pedagogia. (Discorso tenuto per
l'inaugurazione dell'anno accademico nell'Istituto Superiore di Magistero “
Maria Immacolata » il 17 dicembre 1924. È importante che il lettore tenga
presente tale data, poiché alcune critiche contenute in questo studio
rispecchiano, necessariamente, le condizioni dell'Italia liberale e democratica,
che sono — com'è ovvio — assai diverse da quelle dell'Italia d'oggi.)
Domando scusa se sono costretto a incominciare con l'affermazione di una verità
così poco peregrina com'è quella secondo cui la scuola non è fatta
dall'edificio ove si tengono le lezioni, dalle aule, dai banchi, dagli orari,
dai programmi, e nemmeno, rigorosamente parlando, dalle persone discenti e
docenti; sebbene da quell'idea, da quello spirito, da quell'indirizzo animatore
che, dimostrandosi capace d'informare di sé tali disjecta membra, le stringa
davvero in un organismo vitale. Ma voi sapete pure che le verità, quanto più
sono evidenti, tanto più spesso corrono pericolo di esser dimenticate o non
avvertite: come l'aria, della quale viviamo senza accorgercene, o come — se mi
perdonate il brusco trapasso — la felicità che si va a cercare, talora, in
paesi lontani, mentre si avrebbe sotto mano, piena ed intera quanto alla
condizione umana è dato raggiungerla, fra le mura di casa propria. In
particolare, poi, le verità riguardanti la scuola hanno avuto da noi, in
Italia, fino all'altro giorno, la curiosa caratteristica d'esser proclamate a
gran voce, con mirabile accordo, da un notevole numero di persone, ma di esser
poi, con un accordo ancor più mirabile, dimenticate e violate nella pratica da
un numero ancor più notevole di persone fra le quali, sempre, in primissima
linea, coloro che avevano qualche potere in materia di politica scolastica. Ad
esempio, per restare nell'ambito di quel che dicevamo poco prima, qual è
il cittadino italiano immischiato comunque, per dovere od elezione, nelle cose
scolastiche, che non abbia, semprechè l'occasione e la cultura propria glielo
permettessero, fatto dei discorsi sull'«anima della scuola», sulla sacrosanta
necessità «di educare oltreché istruire», sull' imprescindibile dovere di dare
alle nuove generazione un saldo indirizzo ideale, ecc.? Tanto che chi dovesse,
sull'unica base di quei discorsi, formarsi un concetto intorno alle condizioni
della scuola italiana nell'ultimo trentennio, sarebbe tratto certamente a
immaginare che, povera quantitativamente di edifici, di denaro, di persone, di
numero, per le ancor scarse disponibilità economiche del paese, essa poi fosse
forte e rigogliosa all'interno, tutta pervasa da un unico, ben definito ideale,
informante di sé l'umile opera dell'insegnante come la superiore attività
legislativa dei ministri e del parlamento. Orbene, in realtà è avvenuto proprio
il contrario. Le nostre università sono state numerose più di quelle della
dotta Germania o della miliardaria America, eppure noi non siamo ancora
riusciti a diffondere nel ceto dei professionisti, degli alti funzionari, degli
impiegati cosiddetti — forse per ironia — «di concetto», nemmeno la parvenza di
quella cultura decorosa che tali classi hanno persino fra le più modeste
nazioni civili moderne. Le nostre scuole medie sono diventate, a lungo andare,
talmente pletoriche, da rappresentare infine una specie di piaga nazionale;
eppure, gli individui capaci di leggere, gustandolo, un classico, o di interessarsi,
per propria soddisfazione, a un qualsiasi ordine di problemi scientifici, si
contano sulla punta delle dita. Le nostre scuole elementari sono, non diciamo
troppe e neanche tante da bastare, in sé alla funzione che dovrebbero adempire,
ma certo non poche in relazione ai magri bilanci dei comuni e degli enti
pubblici onde traggono il loro sostentamento; eppure, non solo l'analfabetismo
imperversa, ma è accompagnato da quell'altro, ben più pericoloso fenomeno, che
è la noncuranza, l'accidia, la pigrizia interiore, la sordità ai valori
spirituali, l'«analfabetismo morale» insomma. Né in questo groviglio
d'istituzioni scolastiche venute su alla peggio, sotto la pressione dei più
svariati casi o interessi, burocraticamente amministrate senza alcun riguardo a
finalità ideali e ad esigenze interne, flagellate da una pioggia di decreti,
leggi, regolamenti cozzanti fra di loro nel più assoluto caos, si saprebbe
comunque scoprire, non dico un'anima, ma solo una certa, anche tutta
estrinseca, unità e coerenza d'indirizzo, se indirizzo non si vuol chiamare la
proclamazione aperta di non averne alcuno, che tale è appunto la scuola laica
neutra onde siamo stati deliziati fino a ieri. Tutto ciò, naturalmente, non
vale per il nuovo stato di cose prodotto dalla recentissima legislazione della
riforma Gentile: i benefici effetti della quale, giova credere, presto si
faranno sentire nel loro lato positivo, giacché per ora, come era del resto
naturale e giusto che accadesse, l'esame di stato ed altre misure simili hanno
agito piuttosto spazzando via gli ultimi resti della vecchia mentalità liberale
che ancora paralizzava il nostro organismo scolastico. Ma ecco che mi
sperdo in un mare di considerazioni poco piacevoli e intanto dimentico
l'oggetto primo del mio discorso. Ch'era, semplicemente, di dirvi, in omaggio
alla non peregrina eppur troppo spesso dimenticata verità dalla quale avevamo
preso le mosse, come la fondazione di questo Istituto Superiore di Magistero,
che s'intitola al Nome tanto dolce ad ogni anima cristiana, non possa rimanere
solo una di più fra le lodevoli iniziative onde si vanta l'azione cattolica in
Italia, che pur trae dalla sola vigile carità dei fedeli mezzi ed opere, quali
nessuna sapienza di amministratore saprebbe immaginare e ne fa fede questo stesso
Istituto nel volger di pochi mesi creato e provvisto di tutto il necessario con
una larghezza veramente signorile di cui bisogna render grazie alle Suore
che l'hanno voluto ospitare. Se una scuola non è formata solo dalle aule e
dagli edifici e dal materiale, se, prima di tutto, essa ha da rappresentare uno
spirito e un pensiero, allora è nostro dovere domandarci qual è lo spirito e il
pensiero che ci sostiene, ch'è poi quanto dire in nome di che cosa e con quali
idee direttive i cattolici italiani hanno offerto alla loro patria, già, come
notavamo un momento prima, anche troppo gravata dall'eccessivo numero degli
istituti universitari esistenti fino a ieri, una nuova scuola
universitaria? Problema difficile certo, e tale da render pensosi quanti
si preoccupano delle sorti della cultura cattolica in Italia e del quale io non
presumo davvero darvi qui la soluzione, non solo perché non è argomento da
sbrigarsi in poche parole, ma anche perché io confido a tale uopo nel vostro
futuro concorso, di quando voi stesse avrete superato in certo modo quel duro
tirocinio che vi attende, di disimparare al più presto quello che la
ingloriosamente defunta scuola normale vi ha insegnato o ha finto d'insegnarvi,
per rimparare non dico, che non voglio essere esageratamente pessimista, tutto
il contrario, ma almeno con spirito ben diverso, con altre finalità, con un
differente senso dello «sforzo gioioso» base d'ogni cultura, i primi rudimenti,
ossia gli strumenti del lavoro, d'un vero sapere, non peso morto e oppressione ingombrante
dell'anima, ma compito quotidiano da adempiere se anche con sacrificio, colla
coscienza di riempire d'un nuovo valore la propria vita. Problema, perciò, del
quale io non posso darvi più di un senso e, direi quasi, un sospetto e un
presentimento, fondandomi non solo su quel che avrete certo visto e sentito
dire sul rivolgimento avvenuto, da un anno a questa parte, in materia
scolastica, nel nostro paese ma, soprattutto, sullo spirito che v'ha infuso la
vostra comune Madre, la Chiesa, quando accogliendovi nel suo seno come semplici
fedeli, o inscrivendo talune nella milizia schierata sotto le bandiere dei
diversi ordini religiosi che veggo fra voi rappresentati, ha trasfuso in voi
quegl'immutabili principi direttivi del pensare e dell'operare che, per divina
promessa, dureranno in eterno, anche quando il cielo e la terra cadranno da sé
come vestimenti vuoti. Che cosa sia in sé un Istituto Superiore di
Magistero secondo la nuova legislazione scolastica, voi certo sapete. Formare
insegnanti per le scuole medie, migliorare e allargare la cultura dei maestri
abilitandoli alle funzioni direttive ed ispettive, sono già compiti veramente
nobili, da invogliarci a lavorare con tutta la nostra energia perché: chi sono
gl'insegnanti delle scuole medie? Sono coloro che plasmano, in sostanza, le
classi dirigenti di domani, le quali appunto in quelle scuole ricevono la prima
umana educazione del loro spirito. E chi sono i direttori e gli ispettori? Sono
coloro che hanno in mano tutto l'organismo delle scuole elementari e, per
conseguenza, l'educazione del popolo. Ora, nessuno può negare che e l'una e
l'altra cosa, l'educazione delle classi dirigenti e l'educazione del popolo,
siano, da noi, bisognose di urgenti riforme delle quali i cattolici non possono
in alcun modo disinteressarsi. E non basta che tali riforme siano ormai sancite
da un corpo di leggi del quale l'Italia può oggi andar giustamente orgogliosa,
giacché le leggi ci sono, ma occorre chi «ponga mano ad esse», ossia chi le
realizzi nella propria intelligente operosità. D'altronde non si guarisce in
pochi giorni dalla malattia di oltre un cinquantennio, anzi, a guardar bene, di
secoli. Giacché la nostra patria, per ragioni storielle che ora sarebbe troppo
lungo indagare, non ha da secoli avuto una «cultura» nel senso di attiva
partecipazione delle classi socialmente più elevate ai lavori dello spirito. Ci
sono stati, non meno numerosi che altrove, i geni dell'arte o della scienza, ma
solitari, inaccessibili, chiusi nello sforzo della creazione, senza un pubblico
che li seguisse, senza un'anima nazionale che si riconoscesse in loro e si
assimilasse i risultati della loro opera, fermandola nella stabilità d'una
tradizione. Perciò quando l'unità italiana compiuta permise la formazione d'uno
Stato moderno, il problema tormentoso si riprodusse: da un lato le grandi
personalità solitarie, dall'altro le plebi misere ed ignare, nel mezzo una
classe dirigente improvvisata, sfornita di ogni vera consistenza interiore,
costretta a vivere giorno per giorno d'una politica di ripieghi. Ed eccoci a
quello che dicevamo prima sull'«analfabetismo morale», ben più pericoloso
dell'analfabetismo grafico. In altre grandi nazioni civili europee il medico o
l’avvocato, l'ingegnere o il funzionario, il banchiere o l'industriale d'una
certa levatura non si limitano a compiere, per delicati e difficili che siano,
i doveri della propria professione, ma spesso sentono il bisogno di riempire le
proprie ore libere con qualche nobile disciplina spirituale. E il funzionario,
uscito dall'ufficio, si dedica a studi letterari, e il medico, lasciati gli
ammalati, coltiva la filosofia, e l'avvocato, dopo le sue pratiche legali, va
acquistando una vera competenza nella storia politica, e l'industriale, chiusa
la fabbrica, non vuol più sentir parlare di registri e di conti, ma riempie la
casa di quadri e di mobili antichi e si esercita con passione nella critica
d'arte. Né è raro il vedere persone già innanzi negli anni intraprendere,
poniamo, per la prima volta lo studio della musica, o iniziarsi a qualche
difficile ramo di ricerche scientifiche, quasi ad apprestare alla prossima
vecchiezza un'occupazione dignitosa che le impedisca d'isterilirsi nell'ozio e
di esaurirsi nella malinconica contemplazione dei propri acciacchi. Quel che
accadesse, invece, da noi fino a ieri, purtroppo ognuno lo sa [Anche qui si
tenga presente quanto s'è già osservato, in altra nota: che si parla, cioè,
dell'Italia di... altri tempi! Oggi si potrebbe, forse, dire il contrario: la
mentalità democratica, tessuta di atteggiamenti menzogneri e capricciosi, sta
facendo perdere alle grandi nazioni europee ogni vera superiorità culturale. E
invece, da noi sotto la nuova, severa disciplina «romana», le classi dirigenti
si sono trasformate con una rapidità che, in altri tempi, sarebbe parsa
incredibile.], dove non solo funzionari e impiegati, avvocati e medici,
industriali e finanzieri non conoscevano — salvo pochissime lodevoli eccezioni
— altro modo d'impiegare il proprio tempo libero che non fosse il biliardo o il
caffè, il giornale e le chiacchiere, il cinematografo e l'operetta, per tacere
il peggio, ma persino alcuni professori e maestri accoglievano l'obbligo di
studiare e di dimostrare ad ogni occorrenza una cultura larga, soda,
frequentemente rinnovata, sancito dalla nuova legislazione scolastica, con una
meraviglia così ingenua da far sospettare che, nei loro pedagogici cervelli,
fra il mestiere dell'insegnamento e l'obbligo di studiare non fosse mai
esistito il sospetto d'una, sia pur lontanissima, relazione. E quando un simile
esempio viene dato da quelle che dovrebbero essere, nel miglior senso della
parola le classi dirigenti, che cosa può fare il popolo se non disertare la
scuola per la bettola e il libro per il mazzo di carte? Il maggior tempo libero
e i più alti salari ottenuti al proletariato dalle agitazioni socialiste del
'20 e del '21 gli servirono non già ad elevarsi intellettualmente, sebbene a
vagabondare, a gozzovigliare, a sfoggiare, con mentalità pescecanesca, stoffe
costose e gioielli. Come vedete la questione intellettuale si trascina dietro,
inevitabilmente, la questione morale, e direi anche, se voi non interpretaste
la parola in cattivo senso, la questione politica. Sì, perché quel
professionista, quel funzionario, quell'impiegato che, finito il proprio lavoro,
invece di godere le vere libertà del raccoglimento e della meditazione,
«va a divertirsi» in un modo più o meno discutibile, si forma poco a poco le
physique o, meglio, le moral du róle, ossia la mentalità adeguata all'ambiente
che frequenta: la mentalità del caffè, del cinematografo, dell'operetta, il
dilettantismo frivolo, il semplicismo, l'orrore dei problemi seri che implicano
fatica e disciplina, l'amore del lusso, l'insofferenza d'una vita tranquilla e
modesta. Proprio come l'operaio «moralmente analfabeta» che nei suoi salari che
gli hanno permesso il pescecanismo dei polli arrosto o dei vestiti costosi
trova l’incentivo più sicuro all'odio e alla rivolta contro i ricchi, i quali,
assoggettandolo al suo duro lavoro quotidiano, hanno voluto escluderlo da
quella pantagruelica gazzarra in cui gli sembra debba celebrarsi la vera vita.
Ora, mentalità simili, oltre all'anarchia che portano necessariamente alla
coscienza morale dell'individuo, oltre alla corruzione e al vizio di cui
necessariamente debbono pascersi, sono incompatibili colla esistenza politica
d'una nazione, che vuol lavoro e disciplina, serietà e sobrietà, capacità di
pensare e spirito di sacrificio. Ed ecco, allora, anche la politica uniformarsi
ai superiori dettami del caffè e del cinematografo, della pochade e
dell'operetta; ecco le chiacchiere con cui ognuno risolve i più complessi
problemi, congiunte alla più massiccia ignoranza delle cose più elementari;
ecco il fumo negli occhi al volgo gettato dai professionisti politicanti; ecco
la corsa alle cariche, agl'impieghi, alle prebende; ecco la incapacità
dell'opinione pubblica ad avere qualsiasi serietà e consistenza. Come
meravigliarsi che per imporre il principio d'una disciplina in un ambiente
simile non ci sia voluto meno del manganello e della rivoltella con tutti gli
annessi inconvenienti? Il buon pubblico liberale e democratico, quello dello
«stellone», non fu purtroppo accessibile al pacifico lavoro della stampa, alla
discussione di problemi dibattuti nelle assemblee, sulle riviste, nei libri: se
non aveva il «fattaccio» con morti e feriti, non si scuoteva. Pensate, per
esempio, a un altro campo ove si è avuta gran copia di quei metaforici morti e
feriti che sono i «bocciati» alla scuola media. Da quanto tempo noi, poveri
pedagoghi, non avevamo scongiurato, implorato, supplicato coi pacifici e
democratici mezzi dell'articolo, della conferenza, del libro, i padri di
famiglia perché degnassero occuparsi delle scuole ove pure i loro figli
trascorrevano in gran parte la propria vita? Quante volte non avevamo
denunciato a gran voce il vuoto, la nullità, l'inettitudine di quelle pretese
fucine del sapere? Quante volte non avevamo avvertito che così non poteva più
andare innanzi e che la settimana rossa del '14, Caporetto, le agitazioni socialiste
del dopoguerra, fenomeni fra le cui cause doveva certo annoverarsi in
primissima linea l'analfabetismo morale alimentato dalle nostre scuole, erano
già indizi sicuri di quel che poteva un giorno succedere se non si fosse presto
messo un riparo alla degenerazione scolastica da cui eravamo afflitti? Credete
voi che i padri di famiglia ne fossero impressionati? Che! era come parlare al
muro. C'è voluto il «manganello» dell'esame di Stato colle conseguenti
bocciature, perché i signori padri di famiglia, toccati nel punto sensibile
della borsa, da una pedagogia ben altrimenti efficace di quella degli articoli
e delle conferenze, degnassero finalmente accorgersi della esistenza d'un
problema scolastico e finalmente sospettassero che la scuola è stata fatta per
altro scopo che non sia quello di fornire diplomi ai loro figli. La
gravità della situazione che vi ho prospettato dice dunque quanto sia
importante il compito al quale siete chiamate voi, future direttrici e
ispettrici di scuole elementari; voi, future insegnanti di scuole medie. Da
anni ed anni noi andiamo sperperando le migliori riserve morali della nostra
razza: quelle magnifiche energie del nostro popolo, fino a ieri
provvidenzialmente salvaguardato dalla sua stessa incultura, dalle dure necessità
del suo lavoro, dalla primitività rurale delle sue condizioni di vita,
contro l'azione disgregatrice del laicismo imperante nelle città: quelle
magnifiche energie che ci hanno fatto vincere la guerra e ci permettono ancora
di ignorare il terribile problema dello spopolamento incombente su altre
nazioni. Se voi poteste soltanto contribuire a cambiare lo stato di cose che vi
ho or ora descritto: se voi poteste diffondere davvero una cultura nel più alto
e nobile senso della parola e fra le nostre classi dirigenti e nel nostro
popolo: se riusciste a sostituire, almeno in parte, il libro alla bettola,
l'arte al cinematografo, la scienza alle chiacchiere del circolo, avreste già
bene meritato della causa che servite. Avreste ottenuto quello che già ottenete
in altri campi: e come nell'assistere ammalati, nel sollevare poveri, nel
conquistare alla civiltà le più inospiti regioni del mondo conosciuto, gli
ordini religiosi hanno fatto sì che il nome cristiano fosse sempre in prima
linea anche in quelle opere socialmente utili di cui il mondo laico si vanta
come di propria conquista perché non è dato scorgervi, a primo aspetto, alcun
carattere religioso, così voi aprendo, anime, dirozzando intelligenze,
opponendo ai «divertimenti» dissipatori il gusto d'un nobile lavoro dello
spirito, dimostrereste che, anche nel diffondere la luce del sapere, il
Cristianesimo sa essere in prima linea, e che tutte le verità, tutte le
conquiste, tutte le vittorie del pensiero, non solo esso le accetta, ma sa
farle fruttificare come nessuna scuola laica ha mai saputo. E io credo che
ringraziereste anche la pedagogia: quella pedagogia da voi imparata a conoscere
nella scuola normale — sia detto con tutto il rispetto dovuto alle zitelle —
sotto la veste d'una zitellona dura ed arcigna, se vi aiutasse a raggiungere un
fine simile, dandovi una più sicura consapevolezza dei problemi educativi, un
più alto senso dell'opera scolastica, un palpito d'amore più puro per questa
grande fucina d'anime ch'è la scuola. E io vado ancora innanzi, e vi dico che
ambizione dei cattolici italiani dev'essere quella di veder sorgere intorno a
questo istituto, vicine o lontane, ma sempre legate ad esso da un'intima
comunione d'intenti e d’indirizzo, tutta una rete di scuole veramente nostre.
Così noi auspichiamo un liceo-ginnasio nostro e un istituto magistrale nostro e
delle scuole elementari nostre, non perché non vi siano in Italia scuole simili
valorosamente rette da cattolici, ma perché desideriamo tenerci con esse nel
contatto più diretto possibile, dando, non solo insegnamenti, ma anche, secondo
la debolezza delle nostre forze, esempi, concretando però in tutto un sistema
d'istituzioni scolastiche quelli che ci pare debbano essere i criteri
pedagogici direttivi dei cattolici d'oggi: e ciò non per dare degli schemi che
tutti debbano pedissequamente copiare, quanto piuttosto per approfittare delle
favorevoli condizioni che solo una scuola modello, libera da ogni
preoccupazione estranea ai suoi fini didattici, può offrire. Come vedete,
è un programma di lavoro che per cinquant'anni e più può bastare alle giovani
generazioni cattoliche. Tuttavia spero di non parervi proprio incontentabile se
aggiungo subito che il fine, innegabilmente altissimo, la cui importanza ho
cercato ora di farvi, alla meglio, comprendere non può, per vasto che paia,
essere abbastanza per voi. E dico per voi, e un momento fa ho fatto appello
alla coscienza cristiana e cattolica per cui la Chiesa in diversi gradi vi
annovera fra le sue figlie obbedienti, perché se il diffondere la cultura,
l'insegnare e l'aprire scuole sono tutte azioni nobilissime, degne delle nostre
migliori energie, vano sarebbe credere che con ciò e soltanto con ciò si
offrisse adeguato rimedio ai mali ond'è travagliata non solo la coscienza
italiana, ma possiamo pur dire tutta la coscienza moderna. Qui comincia il
nostro dissidio dai pedagogisti laici coi quali fino a questo punto abbiamo
marciato di pari passo, e proprio qui dobbiamo dire, se ne siamo capaci, la
parola nuova che si aspetta da noi, che è poi la ragione per cui non c'è
parsa inutile, fra i troppi istituti universitari italiani, la fondazione d'un
altro Magistero. Questa parola eccola: noi non crediamo che il problema
pedagogico odierno sia risolvibile con un programma esclusivamente culturale,
noi non crediamo, cioè, che basti dare alle nuove generazioni una scuola in cui
si studia davvero invece d'una scuola in cui non si studiava per poter dire
d'averle educate. Anzi noi non crediamo che l'insufficienza della vecchia
scuola fosse solo, come tante volte s'è detto, una deficienza tecnica d'uomini
e di programmi, a sanar la quale basti preparare un personale insegnante colto
e conscio dei suoi doveri, rinvigorire le sanzioni giuridiche dei concorsi e
degli esami, amministrare con maggior severità, o restituire ad alcune
discipline formative a torto trascurate come il latino e la filosofia la loro
funzione di prim'ordine; tutte cose, badiamo bene, bellissime e necessarie,
alle quali noi cattolici plaudiamo toto corde, ma che non toccano ancora,
secondo noi, il vero fondo della questione. Giacché il Cattolicesimo è vecchio,
miei cari, e ha troppo buona memoria per dimenticare le lezioni del passato.
Quando gli uomini del Rinascimento ruppero i ponti dell'antica fede e ai Padri
e ai Dottori della Chiesa vollero sostituiti i classici, pensavano anch'essi
tutti, dal precursore Petrarca all'organizzatore e propagandista Erasmo, che la
cultura avrebbe risanato il genere umano e che, fugata l'ignoranza, sarebbe
sparita anche la corruzione, e pareva loro che lo studio delle lettere latine e
greche sarebbe stato 1'ubi consistam di quella piena, elevata, armonica
formazione spirituale ch'essi auspicavano all'umanità redenta dalle tenebre
medioevali. Orbene, l'Umanesimo trionfa, riplasma nel proprio spirito le
vecchie scuole, ne crea delle nuove ove il classicismo regna incontrastato...
Ahimè, non è passato ancora un secolo e già i pedagogisti lamentano nella
scuola umanistica i difetti che gli umanisti avevano voluto satireggiare nella
scuola medioevale: rozzezza, pedanteria, soffocamento delle migliori energie,
disconoscimento brutale delle esigenze intime dello spirito educando. E man
mano che il tempo passa, sempre più la nuova pedagogia s'avvede che di tali
deformazioni dell'anima giovanile è proprio responsabile questa cultura che
agli uomini del Rinascimento pareva principio indispensabile d'ogni umana
elevazione: la cultura classica, la preponderanza dell'esercizio letterario
come fine a se stesso, il cerebralismo della pura dilettazione estetica,
l'immoralismo in quanto divorzio fra il dire e il fare, la vacua retorica.
Allora, mentre le critiche all'umanesmo si moltiplicano, un nuovo astro sorge
sull'orizzonte e il realismo scientifico s'accampa minaccioso contro
l’umanesimo. I pedagogisti del Rinascimento hanno sbagliato: non le lettere
classiche, ma gli studi scientifici, l'osservazione della natura, l'esperienza,
daranno all’ umanità la formazione spirituale di cui ha bisogno. E da Bacone e
Comenio, nei quali il nuovo ideale educativo s'afferma ancora circondato da
riserve e cautele critiche, ai pedagogisti della rivoluzione francese, ai
positivisti del secolo XIX che annegano la scuola addirittura in un'orgia di
scienze positive, il realismo entra poco a poco, come già era entrato
l'umanesimo, nella prassi e nella legislazione scolastica di tutte le nazioni
civili. E se proprio non riesce a detronizzare il rivale, almeno gli impone,
attraverso la filologia che va impregnando di sé gl'insegnamenti delle
letterature classiche, il suo spirito ed i suoi metodi. Il problema è dunque
risolto? L'umanità ha finalmente trovato quella liberazione attraverso la
cultura che andava cercando dal medioevo in poi? Mai più: il realismo
scientifico non ha ancora avuto tempo di celebrare i suoi trionfi, che già un
nuovo avversario è sorto a denunciare le sue malefatte. La pedagogia
idealistica moderna riprende, a sua volta, contro il realismo scientifico, il
medesimo atto d'accusa ch'esso aveva portato contro l'umanesimo letterario.
Eccoli, secondo l'idealismo, i frutti della scuola razionalistica e scientifica
che aveva voluto poggiare il suo insegnamento sulla salda base dei «fatti» e
delle «notizie» e bandire tutto il resto come chiacchiera inutile: pedanteria,
superficialità, soffocamento delle migliori energie, frivolo scetticismo, oblìo
dei valori spirituali, meccanismo burocratico e livellatore. E l'idealismo
contemporaneo non è solo. Sia i grandi pedagogisti moderni, un Pestalozzi, un
Fròbel, già lo stesso Rousseau, già Locke, tutti più o meno simpatizzanti coi
metodi del realismo scientifico, derivano la miglior parte della loro opera
piuttosto che da quest’ultimo, da una oscura ribellione contro l'insegnamento
“ufficiale” delle scuole che fa loro presagire, se pur non diagnosticare
chiaramente, un errore, una stortura, una violazione di non so quali principi,
onde tutto il sistema educativo dei loro tempi riesce falsato; né essi sono mai
tanto eloquenti come quando inalberano la bandiera della rivolta a rivendicare
i diritti dell'anima umana oppressa dalla pedanteria scolastica. E quella
rivolta è sì accettata dall'idealismo contemporaneo, ma allo stesso modo con
cui il realismo aveva accettato dall'umanesimo le critiche dei migliori
umanisti sul “ciceronianismo”: non come indice di un errore infirmante i
criteri stessi con cui si è risolto il problema educativo in genere, ma come il
segno d'una serie d'errori particolari agevolmente rettificabili. In fondo il
realismo aveva consentito con l'umanesimo nell'ammettere che il problema
pedagogico fosse sopratutto problema di cultura, d'una maggiore e miglior
cultura da diffondere fra gli uomini: soltanto gli era parso che l'umanesimo
avesse male risolto questo problema imperniando la cultura sulle lingue
classiche. A sua volta il neoumanesimo idealistico riconosce volentieri al
realismo il pregio d'aver rivendicato i diritti dell'esperienza, della ragione,
della cultura, ma, viceversa, gli ascrive a torto d'essersi esaurito nel
proporre quel particolar tipo di cultura che s'impernia sulle discipline e sui
metodi naturalistico-positivi. Secondo l'idealismo sarà, sì, la cultura, ma una
cultura largamente storico-filosofica che permetterà al maestro moderno di
risolvere il problema educativo. C'è da meravigliarsi se il Cattolicesimo, che
è così vecchio!, ricorda oggi agli immemori che da cinque secoli la pedagogia
laica agita ormai lo stesso programma senza riuscir ad altro che a disfare oggi
quello che ha fatto ieri, non portando “a mezzo novembre” ciò che “ha filato di
ottobre”? Ed è avventata superficialità il profetare che i medesimi inconvenienti
denunciati per il passato nella scuola umanistica e nella scuola realistica,
renderanno domani oppressiva, pedantesca, astrattamente verbale, anche la
scuola neoumanistica? La ragione? Ma la ragione sta nello stesso
carattere umanistico di tale scuola, intendendo questa volta per umanesimo non
più l’humanitas delle antichità classiche, quanto piuttosto tutta una
concezione della realtà, e precisamente la concezione della realtà come “uomo”
o come “spirito umano”, che è poi il carattere distintivo di tutti gli ideali
pedagogici laici i quali, in un modo o nell'altro, risolvono il problema
educativo additando all'educando come meta ultima l'esercizio di un'attività
umana non soltanto nell'esplicazione, ma anche nell'oggetto, procedente, cioè,
dall'uomo e avente per suo oggetto il mondo umano, in quanto natura, storia,
esperienza, ecc., e poco importa se poi questa attività sia la scienza o
l'arte, la letteratura o la filosofia. Ora, ciascuna di queste attività
umanisticamente intesa è sempre, per forza, finita e limitata: non già nel
senso che ciascuno dei suoi singoli risultati non sia superabile all'infinito,
ma nel senso che racchiude lo spirito in un determinato punto di vista,
cristallizzandolo, per così dire, entro se stesso, vietandogli però di aprirsi
ad una vita superiore. Diciamo la vera parola, la cultura umanistica è una
cultura “egoista”. Nell'arte e nella scienza, nella filosofia e nella
letteratura, lo spirito umano ammira soltanto le cangianti forme di se stesso:
Narciso contempla la sua immagine scomporsi e ricomporsi in mille guise
attraverso l'acqua leggermente mossa della fontana. E non si risponda che pure
per far ciò egli deve sacrificarsi e negarsi, superare la morte e il dolore:
che, dunque, la scuola umanistica sa dire anch'essa le salutari parole della
sofferenza e della abnegazione? anche l'egoista, tutto dedito ai suoi piaceri,
deve affrontare per essi sacrifici e sofferenze? è forse per questo meno
egoista? No, una cultura — è questo il punto in cui noi ci separiamo
decisamente da ogni pedagogia “laica” — la quale ignori Dio, o, peggio, lo
riduca ad un momento dialettico nel divenire dell'autocoscienza, è sempre una
cultura gretta, limitata, mancante di ogni vero stimolo a rinnovarsi, tendente
a comprimere con dogmatica rigidezza quanto non rientra nei suoi quadri
preformati. E infatti che vuol dire rinnovarsi, se non uscire da sé per mirare
a una realtà superiore? Ora, la cultura laica non conosce realtà superiori;
anche quando guarda all'avvenire, nelle nuove scoperte che nasceranno
all'infinito da lei, essa non può scorgere, ancora e sempre, che l'immagine di
sé. Ben diverso è il caso della cultura cristiana la quale, avendo per fine non
se stessa, ma Dio, tende necessariamente a elevarsi sopra di sé e reca, quindi,
nel suo seno, il più possente stimolo a rinnovarsi che si possa desiderare.
L'enciclopedia laica è un circolo chiuso; per vasto che sia il suo giro, esso
parte da sé e ritorna in sé: cultura letteraria del vecchio umanesimo, cultura
scientifica del realismo, cultura storico-filosofica del neoumanesimo. Ed anche
tutt'e tre insieme, saranno, perciò, sempre, violatrici della più
caratteristica prerogativa dello spirito umano per cui “navigare necesse est,
vivere non est necesse”: quella di ripugnare ad ogni barriera, quella di
spezzare ogni limite per tendere sempre più in alto e sempre più oltre.
Viceversa l’enciclopedia cristiana è, se ci si consente l'espressione, un
circolo che s'apre, colla filosofia e la teologia, al riconoscimento d'una
realtà superiore: infinita via su cui le anime dovranno avanzare colle loro
forze sostenute dalla grazia divina. Né la materialità di queste immagini
v'inganni, quasiché la differenza fra i due tipi di cultura s'iniziasse solo in
un ordine soprannaturale. Poiché il tipo e, direi, l'orientamento di una
cultura non può non essere visibile anche in ogni sua minima parte. Ogni
frammento della cultura laica deve riprodurre in sé il circolo chiuso e ogni
frammento della cultura cristiana il circolo aperto. Così i singoli fatti del
mondo naturale sono, in fondo, nonostante tutte le proteste in contrario, per
la cultura laica, niente altro che la ripetizione di un medesimo spettacolo per
cui l'umanista è assalito dal terrore e dalla noia innanzi alla monotona
infinità dei cieli, e i fatti della storia gli sembrano esauriti quando li ha
sussunti sotto una determinata categoria ideale. Viceversa la scienza cristiana
avverte l'infinito che è in ogni fatto e in ogni oggetto, non come la “mala
infinità” d'una ricerca da proseguirsi indefinitamente, o d'uno spettacolo
multicolore illimitatamente prolungato, ma come la positiva inesauribilità
d'una esistenza concreta le cui radici si perdono in Dio, ch’è quanto dire,
come uno dei modi, sempre originali e imprevedibili, attraverso cui la potenza
creativa di Dio si è manifestata. Ecco perché questa nostra civiltà occidentale
nutrita dal Cristianesimo ha avuto la grande fioritura di scienze e d'arti di
cui oggi va orgogliosa. Ecco perché la vera cultura, ch'è “spirito di libera
ricerca”, alieno dall'oppressione e dalla pedanteria, e “socratica maieutica”
alle anime che facciano nascere, nel dolore e nello sforzo, la verità, non può
andar mai disgiunta dallo spirito cristiano. Ed ecco, infine, la ragione
dell'insuccesso che, dall'umanesimo al realismo e al neoumanesimo, ha sempre
reso e renderà sempre sterili i tentativi di fondare, fuori del Cristianesimo,
una scuola veramente liberatrice. Non basta. Il problema della cultura
non è soltanto un problema di qualità o di intensità; è anche, sopratutto, un
problema di diffusione. Ora, qui è proprio lo scoglio di tutte le pedagogie
laiche che, dato il loro punto di partenza, debbono per forza porre nella
ragione naturale la forma più alta d'autocoscienza, e perciò nella
“consapevolezza” critica e scientifica l'essenza di ogni cultura. Già il mondo
pagano aveva detto che i liberi studi, la ragione, la filosofia erano l'unica
via onde l'uomo, elevandosi sulle proprie passioni, celebra veramente in sé
l'umanità. E si era trovato innanzi al terribile problema: «che faremo dunque,
degli uomini che non hanno, anche volendo, né tempo né modo di studiare?
Negheremo loro la qualifica di uomini?» Problema, si noti bene, assai più
facile in una società che aveva gli schiavi e che non conosceva ancora le
innumerevoli forme d'operosità manuale e materiale ormai indispensabili alla
società moderna. Allora, forse, si sarebbe potuto pensare in linea teorica, che
poche ore di lavoro manuale imposte a ciascuno bastassero per soddisfare i
bisogni della società, garantendo poi a tutti la libertà di rivolgersi ad
occupazioni intellettuali. Oggi non è più così. Il nostro operaio attende molte
ore del giorno ad un lavoro faticosissimo e spesso tecnicamente difficile: e i
mille servizi materiali, di trasporti, di comunicazioni, di cure igieniche, di
polizia e via dicendo, di cui ha bisogno una città moderna, lasciano, a un
intero esercito di persone, proprio il tempo che basta a rinnovare col riposo
le proprie energie. Vorremo educare costoro col latino dell'umanesimo, colle
scienze del realismo, o colla filosofia del neoumanesimo? O, non potendo, li
lasceremo senza alcuna educazione? È il problema della cultura popolare,
insolubile per il razionalismo laico moderno non meno che per il paganesimo
antico. D'altronde, se i beni dello studio e della contemplazione sono i veri
beni umani, con che diritto ne escluderemo la maggior parte dell'umanità ch'è
condannata ai lavori manuali? Che se, viceversa, pare inevitabile quei beni
dover toccare in sorte a pochi, con qual criterio gli uni saranno preferiti
agli altri? Come evitare il sospetto che tutto il nostro sistema sociale sia
fondato su una odiosa ingiustizia? Ed ecco lo spirito di ribellione che getta i
lavoratori in braccio al socialismo e all'anarchismo, ecco il moto sotterraneo
che mina le basi delle nazioni moderne. Anche qui la storia ci ammaestra.
Il problema che la civiltà pagana non aveva saputo risolvere, fu risolto dal
Cristianesimo. Se la santità è superiore alla scienza e la carità alla
giustizia, allora i veri valori spirituali non si attuano nel lavoro
intellettuale piuttosto che in ogni altra qualsiasi forma di lavoro o di
attività umana, sebbene dovunque c'è occasione di accettar dei doveri che
rompano la dura scorza del nostro egoismo. Anzi, più l'attività che esercitiamo
è socialmente umile e materialmente faticosa, meno da essa possiamo aspettarci
ricchezze, beni, onori, più essa è vicina a quella perfezione di sacrificio e
di rinunzia che è l'ideale cristiano. “Qui vult post me venire abneget
semetipsum”. Non basta rinunciare alle cose proprie, alle comodità, al lusso,
alle mollezze, questo lo avevano detto anche i filosofi pagani: occorre
rinunciare a se stesso, ossia rinunciare a quell'altro lusso interiore che è la
gloria, la fama, l'alto sentire di sé in cui il ”saggio” antico trovava
compenso a tutte le privazioni; occorre abnegare semetipsum. Il paganesimo
aveva conosciuto comunità di filosofi che si proponevano come fine la più alta
attività sociale, la scienza. Il Cristianesimo creerà, ammirevole assurdo per
la sapienza mondana, comunità sterminate di religiosi che si proporranno
per fine le attività, socialmente più basse, servili, dispregiate, che
non solo accetteranno con entusiasmo il lavoro manuale, ma chiederanno al
mendicante di dividere i suoi cenci con loro e cureranno le piaghe del
lebbroso. Eccolo risolto, il problema della “cultura popolare”; non inutile
tritume di nozioni da distribuire, ma organica concezione della vita da
realizzare; concezione della vita, notate bene, non riservata a un piccolo
numero di studiosi, ma aperta a tutti, aperta, anzi, con speciale
sollecitudine, alle moltitudini doloranti nel più duro lavoro. All'annunzio
della «buona novella» queste moltitudini non solo non cercheranno di strappare
colla rivolta i beni che sono retaggio esclusivo del ricco e del sapiente (che
è un ricco interiore), ma avranno compassione dell'uno e dell'altro, ben
sapendo che quegli apparenti privilegiati trovano appunto nei loro beni,
interni od esterni, il maggior fomite di attaccamento al mondo e il peggior
ostacolo sulla via della perfezione cristiana, giacché è più facile a un
cammello passar per la cruna di un ago che a un ricco entrar nel regno dei
cieli. Né questo deve indurci a credere che, come favoleggiano taluni, il
Cristianesimo, trascorrendo all'estremo opposto, sia, in odio al razionalismo
pagano, divenuto fomite d'ignoranza e “dottrina da schiavi”. Il vigore col
quale la Chiesa ha sempre rivendicato, contro le eresie irrazionalistiche e
fideistiche, i diritti della ragione; la fermezza colla quale ha tenuto viva la
tradizione dell'antica cultura in quegli stessi conventi ch'erano patrimonio
dei «poveri» e degli «ignoranti», sono lì per dimostrarlo. Allo stesso modo,
pur raccomandando in modo specialissimo la povertà come uno fra i principali consigli
evangelici, Essa non ha mai accettato quelle rozze forme di ascetismo che
avrebbero voluto distruggere i beni materiali della società riportando l'uomo
alla caverna primitiva, così, pur proclamando la donnicciola ignorante pari,
nella vita cristiana, quando non addirittura superiore al più dotto filosofo,
Essa non ha mai misconosciuto i valori della cultura, rettamente intesa. Se
cultura e ricchezza sono pericolose, lo sono soltanto allo stato, direi,
naturale e pagano, in quanto forme di un'attività umana che presume di avere in
sé il suo fine e che di esse orgogliosamente si compiace. Compenetrate
dall'ideale cristiano, perdono il loro aculeo e divengono, anzi, fonte
d'elevazione a chi le sa rettamente usare, al servizio del prossimo e di Dio.
Ecco perché la Chiesa, nemica della ricchezza non ha mai tralasciato di porgere
aiuti affinché le condizioni materiali della vita umana venissero sempre
migliorate, e, nemica del razionalismo pagano, non ha mai cessato di combattere
per l'elevazione intellettuale e morale di tutti. Possiamo dire, anzi, meglio:
siccome nel più ci sta il meno, nel fine soprannaturale che il Cristianesimo
propone all'uomo ci dev'essere implicito anche l'adempimento dei suoi fini
naturali, e implicito eminenter, nel modo più perfetto possibile. Perciò non è
da meravigliarsi che tutte le soluzioni del problema economico-sociale
dibattute oggi dalla scienza (razionale limitazione del lavoro, equa
distribuzione della ricchezza, severa disciplina della concorrenza) siano state
già da secoli implicite nell'operosità sociale cristiana; e non c’è da
meravigliarsi che tutti i più sottili accorgimenti didattici per la diffusione
della cultura consigliati dai grandi pedagogisti moderni siano sempre stati il
presupposto indispensabile d'ogni insegnamento cristiano. L'eccessivo lavoro
manuale abbrutisce l'uomo, impedendogli di attendere la propria elevazione
intellettuale e morale? Orbene, da quanto tempo la Chiesa non combatte perché
cessi quel gravissimo scandalo ch'è la violazione del riposo festivo,
stoltissima empietà non meno che — ecco la vera parola — barbara distruzione
della libertà umana, la quale “non vive di solo pane”. Se le grandi feste
di precetto del calendario liturgico cristiano fossero tutte scrupolosamente
osservate, non avrebbe forse anche il più umile lavoratore un adeguato periodo
di tempo da dedicare, al raccoglimento interiore e alla meditazione, in quei
giorni che sono «di Dio» appunto perché Dio vuole che allora l'uomo,
dimenticato ogni altro interesse, si fermi ad ascoltar la Sua Parola ed a
riprender coscienza del proprio posto nella realtà e nella vita? E se il lavoro
di tutti i giorni fosse, anziché esasperato fino alla vertiginosa tensione cui
lo spingono la brama smodata di ricchezza e il materialismo pratico della moderna
vita irreligiosa, contenuto nei limiti che la morale cristiana impone,
lascerebbe esso l'uomo così esaurito da spingerlo a cercare un sollievo nei
così detti “divertimenti”? Né solo il tempo libero, ma anche i mezzi più
adeguati alla positiva diffusione d'una vera cultura, il Cattolicesimo ha
sempre messo, con tutte le sue forze, in opera. Non abbiamo noi sentito vantare
come scoperta della pedagogia moderna il “ metodo intuitivo”, cioè la potenza
plastica e suggestiva dell'immagine che penetra là dove il nudo raziocinio non
potrebbe arrivare? Orbene, di questo”metodo intuitivo” e, quel che più conta,
senza i grossolani fraintendimenti del positivismo materialistico, la Chiesa è
stata la prima maestra, quando, non contenta di predicare la propria dottrina,
ha affidato alle belle arti il compito di realizzarla sotto aspetti
architettonici, pittorici e musicali, in un simbolismo che solo gli stolti
potrebbero irridere. Eccolo, quel simbolismo, nella costruzione del tempio,
dalla sua forma generale di una croce, ai più minuti particolari delle porte e
delle colonne su cui i costruttori antichi avevano una dettagliatissima
dottrina; eccolo nelle pitture che adornano le pareti, ove si rappresentano i
principali misteri della fede che il sacerdote commenta ad uso degli
illetterati; eccolo in quell'altra mirabile creazione che è il canto liturgico,
nel quale l'emozione lirica dell'arte è veicolo alla esposizione dei più
profondi concetti cristiani, e il tutto con una facilità di esecuzione tecnica
che rende possibile alle moltitudini più ignoranti di parteciparvi non da
spettatrici, ma da attrici. E la liturgia stessa delle sacre funzioni,
considerata nel suo aspetto umano e naturale, che altro è se non la
partecipazione delle folle a un grandioso dramma ove la poesia, l'architettura,
la pittura, la musica si fanno docili strumenti della verità? — Oggi si
raccomanda il «metodo attivo», si biasima il verbalismo della nostra cultura,
si riscopre il valore educativo del lavoro manuale. Orbene, non sono nate dal
Cristianesimo quelle corporazioni medioevali ove il tirocinio e l'esercizio del
lavoro manuale si compenetravano del medesimo senso d'arte e di libertà umana
che a mala pena e non sempre oggi si ritrova nei grandi lavoratori del
pensiero? Ed è stranissimo che i pedagogisti moderni prendano, di solito, come
tipo dell'educazione cristiana e cattolica le congregazioni insegnanti della
Controriforma e, anche queste, le considerino in una ristretta parte della loro
opera e precisamente in quella parte ove esse hanno dovuto agire
collateralmente a metodi e sistemi, non posti da loro, ma forzatamente dovuti
accettare dalla società in cui si movevano. Non si capisce, ad esempio, perché
i Gesuiti debbano esser presi da tutti i manualetti della pedagogia
razionalistica, come unici rappresentanti della educazione cristiana e dei suoi
pretesi difetti, quasiché la divina Provvidenza avesse loro assegnato il
compito di far da capro espiatorio, attirando sulla propria testa tutte le
contumelie del laicismo anticlericale. E si capisce ancor meno perché mai, dato
anche - e non concesso!- che tutti gl'inconvenienti deplorati dai pedagogisti
dei laicismo nella scuola dei Gesuiti ci fossero effettivamente stati, i
Gesuiti debbano venir giudicati esclusivamente in base all'opera dei loro
collegi per alunni laici, quasiché essi nulla avessero fatto per l'educazione
clericale ed ecclesiastica. Allo stesso nostro Capponi, che pur cita lo
spartano e l'ateniese e il romano antico come esempio di educazioni
effettivamente riuscite alla costruzione di tipi spirituali indelebili, non è
mai caduto in mente che il Gesuita fosse un “tipo” spiritualmente altrettanto
originale, ottenuto però con una educazione efficace per lo meno quanto quella
da lui vantata negli antichi? E che il benedettino, il francescano, il
domenicano e via dicendo, per quanti ordini religiosi - e non sono pochi!- la
Chiesa racchiude nel suo seno, fossero altrettanti “tipi” spirituali non meno
ben delineati? Di un metodo educativo si può, certo, avere un'idea guardando a
qualsiasi sua manifestazione, ma non si può giudicarlo completamente se non là
dove esso si è fatto tutte le condizioni occorrenti alla sua piena
realizzazione. Sarà benissimo che i risultati ottenuti dalle congregazioni
insegnanti della Controriforma non debbano giudicarsi brillantissimi: ma si
consideri che quelle congregazioni, in quanto si proponevano d'esplicare una
larga azione sulla società laica circostante, dovevano forzatamente accettare
sistemi e metodi consacrati dall'opinione pubblica, sia pur per volgerli, in
quanto era possibile, ai propri fini. Così i gesuiti trassero tutto quel bene
che si poteva trarre, da un punto di vista cristiano, dall'umanesimo letterario
e dalla vita moralmente corrotta che nelle classi sociali dirigenti si
accompagnava allora all'ideale umanistico. È colpa loro se la scuola umanistica
era, per intima costituzione, una scuola oppressiva, e se, in fatto di morale
pubblica e privata, il mondo e la famiglia s'incaricavano di erudire l'alunno
uscito dai collegi con una serie di lezioni ben altrimenti significative? Ma si
guardi il rovescio della medaglia, si prenda l'educazione gesuita nella
formazione del gesuita, così come, risalendo nei tempi, si prende l'educazione
francescana nella formazione del francescano e l'educazione benedettina nella
formazione del benedettino, si prendano, cioè, tutti quei sistemi educativi in
quanto hanno la libertà di foggiare interamente l'educando secondo i propri
principi informatori. E poi si dica quale educazione laica, in qualsivoglia
condizione, saprebbe, non solo plasmare, nella rigorosa unità d'una dottrina
ferma come la cattolica, tanta e così varia ricchezza di spiriti quante sono le
diverse famiglie religiose; ma, quel che più conta, indurre in una tal
moltitudine di persone un dispregio dei propri comodi e dei propri interessi,
un amore della sofferenza e del sacrificio, una devozione al dovere, una
infaticabile attività non d'altre ricompense sollecita se non al di là della
sfera umana, una umiltà che rifiuta persino quelle legittime soddisfazioni per
cui l'uomo guarda con compiacenza l'opera propria spesa in servigio di
superiori ideali quali sono quelli che oggi la stessa opinione mondana ammira
quando la colpiscono nei tipi, più facilmente visibili, della suora di carità o
del missionario. Né bisogna poi credere che, anche nelle difficili condizioni
presentate dal dover trattare con gente già imbevuta d'idee e d'abitudini
anticristiane, qual è appunto il caso della educazione che la Chiesa impartisce
a laici, l'educazione cattolica non possa nulla, o possa meno della pedagogia
razionalista. E basta, per convincersene, pensare alle anonime folle che, anche
nei tempi più difficili per la religione, si stringono intorno alla Chiesa e ne
ricevono giornalmente, per bocca d'un umile sacerdote, la parola, il consiglio,
l'ammonimento che trasformano anche la disperazione della più sventurata
esistenza, nella umana dignità d'un sacrificio offerto a Dio, nella nobiltà
d'un dovere adempiuto con serena consapevolezza. Nelle ore torbide della storia,
quando la scuola tace, fatta deserta, e la scienza è travolta dal turbine che
sradica anche le civiltà più robuste, la Chiesa parla e gli stessi nemici
l'ascoltano con deferenza, sia pure per tornare, quando la burrasca sarà
passata, a combatterla: ma che, intanto, l'abbiano dovuta ascoltare, è
altamente significativo. Ma è tempo ormai ch'io concluda questo lungo
discorso, specialmente dacché mi è capitata fra le mani una conclusione così
bella e confortante per voi, maestre cattoliche, una conclusione che, non ne
dubito, anche nella forma troppo pedestre in cui le mie scarsissime forze hanno
dovuto presentarvela, voi terrete presente, durante il nostro futuro lavoro
comune, perché vi sia d'incitamento a fare sempre più e sempre meglio. E questa
conclusione è che, nel prepararvi ad affrontare i maggiori problemi della
pedagogia moderna, voi obbedite a una voce che vi richiama là dove da secoli la
vostra gran madre, la Chiesa, ha combattuto e, possiamo dire senza tema di
smentite, ha vinto, le sue più belle battaglie. Diffondete pure il sapere fra
le moltitudini, ma diffondetelo nei modi e con gl'intenti ch'Essa vi ha
insegnato, sicure di porgere soccorso, cosi, alle tormentose crisi dell'anima
moderna; di soddisfare, così, pienamente alle esigenze della pedagogia più
raffinata e scrupolosa. Allora questa scuola dalla quale sarete uscite, potrà
veramente affermare d'avere, in mezzo a tutte le altre scuole universitarie,
una sua precisa ragion d'essere, potrà veramente, in quanto ciò è dato ai
nostri deboli sforzi umani, non demeritare di raccogliersi sotto l'altissimo
nome che oggi invochiamo a guida e conforto: sotto l'altissimo nome di Colei
che è Vergine Madre, figlia del Suo figlio, umile ed alta più che creatura,
termine fisso d'eterno consiglio. Filosofia, religione e "filosofie"
nelle scuole medie L'introduzione dell'insegnamento religioso nelle
scuole medie e, più, l'esplicita dichiarazione del Concordato secondo la quale
la dottrina cattolica deve essere il necessario fondamento e coronamento di
ogni istruzione, hanno fatto nascere, strano a dirsi, nell'animo di molti e
insegnanti e studiosi un turbamento la cui eco si è sentita nell'ultimo
Congresso nazionale di filosofia (1929), e si sente tuttora negli scritti e
nelle private conversazioni di quanti, o per elezione o per ufficio, amano
discutere i vivi problemi della scuola. E forse non andrebbe molto lontano dal
vero chi dicesse che tale discussione, interessante, senza dubbio, quando
riguarda la scuola media in genere, offre poi un interesse specialissimo quando
tocca l'Istituto magistrale, dal quale (si noti bene) debbono uscire maestri
che hanno l'obbligo d'istruire i loro alunni non solo intorno a questa o quella
singola materia, ma precisamente intorno alla religione cattolica; cosa che non
potrebbero fare certamente, se già non avessero ricevuto dall'Istituto
magistrale una salda istruzione e formazione religiosa. È bene dirlo
subito: intendiamo di deliberato proposito trascurare tutti i problemi pratici
e contingenti che possono nascere e nascono nelle odierne condizioni della
scuola dalla introduzione dell'insegnamento religioso cattolico. E intendiamo
trascurarli, non solo per un legittimo desiderio di circoscrivere il nostro
discorso, ma perché siamo persuasi che il turbamento di cui si parlava ora
deriva, nella maggior parte dei casi, non tanto dal considerare l'uno o l'altro
aspetto pratico della questione, sibbene dal non aver impostato con sufficiente
chiarezza o dall'aver male risolto il problema filosofico che della
questione stessa sta al fondo. Per convincersene basta aver la pazienza di
formulare solamente la difficoltà quale corre, si può dire, sulle bocche di
tutti. — Che significa — si domandano molti — questa dottrina cristiana che
deve essere d'ora innanzi il coronamento degli studi? Significa forse che si
debbano escludere e bandire severamente dalla scuola tutte quelle dottrine e
quegli autori non conciliabili colla ortodossia cattolica? Ammettiamolo pure.
Ma allora dove andrà a finire la libertà di coscienza dell'insegnante, anzi,
dove andrà a finire quella stessa libertà della ricerca scientifica che si
svolge, è vero, e si esplica pienamente solo negli studi superiori e nelle
Università, ma che non si può neppure escludere del tutto dalle scuole medie,
senza ridurre l'istruzione a una semplice trasmissione meccanica di vuote
formule, onde ogni vero senso di intima ricerca è esulato? Vedete qual
differenza fra il Cattolicesimo e il pensiero moderno, e non certo a vantaggio
del Cattolicesimo! Mentre l'uno esclude assolutamente quella diversità di
pareri e di teorie dalla quale nasce la feconda ricerca e la discussione, senza
cui non v’è scienza, anzi pretende di ridurre tutti, volenti o nolenti, ad un
unico modo di pensare; l'altro ha sì gran braccia che accoglie generosamente, nel
suo capace seno, ogni dottrina, poiché in ogni dottrina riconosce un momento e
un aspetto necessario della verità. E dunque, mentre, secondo il filosofo
moderno, anche il cattolico ha diritto di esprimere il suo parere e di portare
nella scuola il suo pensiero, secondo il cattolico, il filosofo moderno, ben
lungi dall'avere questo diritto, deve esser cacciato e tenuto fuori dalla
scuola come un individuo pericoloso. Ora, ognuno vede da qual parte stia la
libertà e la vera tolleranza: mentre il prevalere della filosofia moderna apre
alla scuola tutte le conquiste del pensiero, il prevalere del cattolicesimo
implicherebbe il ritorno al più gretto e ristretto oscurantismo, segno di
remoti e barbari tempi. che la civiltà moderna ha, e vuole avere, per sempre
superato. E, poste queste premesse, ecco che molta brava gente già si
sente venire i brividi addosso. Che, già le par di vedere l'Inquisizione e il
Sant'Uffizio armarsi del braccio secolare, ed entrar nelle scuole, e buttar
sossopra libri e programmi, e, afferrato per il collo con mano ferrea ciascun
insegnante, interrogarlo, e voler sapere per filo e per segno che cosa dice e
che cosa opina, e che cosa pensa, e come e perché. E poi, al menomo odoraccio
di eresia, giù ammonizioni e sospensioni, e rimozioni dall'impiego, e magari,
tanto per essere in armonia col color locale, o meglio, storico, una buona dose
di tratti di fune applicati sulla pubblica piazza, e un buon rogo, dove se non
le persone, che non li usa più, almeno i libri proibiti formassero un bel falò,
a consolazione della gente devota che assisterebbe, fra cantici di gioia e inni
sacri, all'edificante spettacolo. Ora, i timori - più o meno
irragionevoli - sono timori, e la filosofia è filosofia, e forse non c'è cosa
tanto difficile a questo mondo quanto il persuadere certe brave persone che i
timori vanno trattati da timori e la filosofia da filosofia; che le questioni
filosofiche non si risolvono coi timori, ma cogli argomenti. Accuse di
oscurantismo alla religione cattolica se ne sono fatte da che mondo è mondo, e
sempre se ne faranno, fino alla fine dei secoli; sarebbe dunque puerile
meravigliarsi che se ne facciano anche oggi. Ma giustizia vuole che di queste
accuse si esamini spassionatamente il fondamento e il valore, prima di
sentenziare. Giacché le affermazioni sono una bellissima cosa, ma finché non
vengono dimostrate si riducono ad essere semplicemente parole: segni, o suoni,
siano poi i suoni d'arpa eolia coi quali il poeta avvinca a sé i cuori, o gli
stonati rulli del tamburo coi quali i saltimbanchi stordiscono, sulle piazze,
la moltitudine. Sia dunque lecito porre, al presente studio, questo fine:
domandarsi qual valore abbiano quelle accuse, e su quali argomenti poggino
quelle affermazioni, ora riferite, colle quali si vorrebbe sequestrare il
cattolicesimo dalla civiltà e dalla scuola moderna, per relegarlo nei musei
d'un incerto e torbido passato che si dovrebbe inonoratamente seppellire.
Mettiamo da parte i vaghi fantasmi passionali coi quali si cerca di carpire il
consenso attraverso la mozione degli affetti e guardiamo, se ci riesce, di non
arrenderci che alla forza dell'evidenza e della ragione. Cerchiamo, se è
possibile, di ridurre la questione a un tale stato di chiarezza che chiunque ci
segue, amico o avversario, possa senza disperati sforzi d'ingegno o di
dottrina, comprendere le ragioni sulle quali poggia la nostra tesi, od,
occorrendo, scoprire anche il più piccolo errore nel quale ci sia avvenuto
d'incappare. I. Cominciamo con l'osservare subito che la questione che
ora c'interessa non riguarda tanto i rapporti, o i conflitti che possono
nascere, nella scuola media, fra l'insegnamento religioso in quanto puramente
tale, e l'insegnamento della filosofia. Che se il problema fosse questo, molti
amerebbero risolverlo, almeno in pratica, con una pacifica e cortese reciproca
neutralità: l'insegnante di religione insegni la sua religione; l'insegnante di
filosofia insegni la sua filosofia, e tutti pari. Ma il problema riguarda,
invece che l'insegnamento della religione e quello della filosofia, due modi
diversi di concepire l'insegnamento della filosofia, cioè due diverse
concezioni della filosofia, o, meglio, due diverse concezioni della verità,
diverse tanto, che non possono convivere pacificamente fra loro, né stare
insieme senza distruggersi a vicenda. E se poi anche l'insegnamento della
religione finisce con l'essere implicato in questo conflitto, ciò accade pei
diversi effetti che quelle due concezioni producono, e non possono fare a meno
di produrre, nel modo stesso di concepire la religione. Ma quali sono
queste due diverse concezioni in conflitto? L'abbiamo detto; anzi, lo dicono e
lo ripetono a sazietà coloro che formulano, contro la filosofia ispirata al
cattolicesimo, quelle obiezioni che or ora abbiamo sentito. Possibile mai che
la verità debba essere qualcosa di fisso, di statico, d'immobile, definibile
una volta per tutte e racchiusa, per tutti i secoli, entro i ferrei cancelli di
una determinata dottrina? Ma la verità è invece, progresso, sviluppo, divenire:
e, anzi, lo stesso sviluppo e divenire del pensiero che incessantemente si
accresce su sé medesimo, creando sempre nuovi sistemi e nuove dottrine, ognuna
delle quali è un momento e un aspetto immortale del vero, ma nessuna delle
quali può aspirare ad esaurire in sé la verità tutta quanta. Ecco dunque
le cose singolarmente semplificate. Verità fissa ed immobile da una parte;
verità in continuo sviluppo dall'altra; verità trascendente, da una parte,
verità immanente, e identica col divenire stesso del pensiero dall'altra;
verità oggettiva, che il pensiero filosofico può soltanto scoprire e
riconoscere qual è, da una parte; verità soggettiva, eternamente creata dal
pensiero, dall'altra. Per rendere, se non più semplice, più chiara questa
antitesi, molti amano ricorrere alla storia della filosofia e impersonare in
alcuni nomi di filosofi celebri quelle due diverse concezioni. Kant ed Hegel da
una parte e San Tommaso dall'altra, quasi due mondi l'un contro l'altro armati,
la filosofia moderna contro il medioevo e la filosofia scolastica. Contro, si
capisce, per modo di dire poiché, chi crede tutti i sistemi filosofici
veri, non può, senza contraddizione, dar l'ostracismo a San Tommaso e alla
scolastica, ma deve considerarli essi stessi come un “momento” della immortale
verità. E pure Kant ed Hegel per modo di dire, poiché chi pensa la verità come
un continuo sviluppo non può poi, senza darsi la zappa sui piedi, offrirci a
modello un sistema filosofico, sia pure il kantiano o l'hegeliano, a preferenza
di un altro. Kant ed Hegel sì, ma come li pensiamo e li ricostruiamo noi. Kant
ed Hegel con tutti i filosofi venuti dopo, compreso colui che adesso parla o
scrive nel loro venerando nome. Comunque, questo appello alla storia della
filosofia, se anche non riesce molto a chiarire - e, anzi, vedremo che
intorbida - la questione riesce tuttavia ad ottenere un altro effetto di
maggior vantaggio immediato. Quello di far apparire manifestamente vera la
concezione della verità alla quale si vuol dare il nome di “moderna”, e, per
necessaria conseguenza, manifestamente falsa la concezione opposta, quella
tomistica, scolastica o “cattolica” che si voglia dire. Secondo tale concezione
infatti, una sola filosofia sarebbe vera, quella di san Tommaso; tutte le altre
filosofie, da San Tommaso in poi, costituirebbero un cumulo di errori, degni
soltanto della più lacrimevole compassione. Per altra parte, al filosofo che si
proclamasse oggi scolastico e cattolico, non rimarrebbe altra missione che
quella di ripetere alla lettera San Tommaso, e di concentrare tutto l'universo
nelle sacre pagine delle due Somme, alfa ed omega d'ogni sapere, o, piuttosto,
colonne d'Ercole oltre le quali non è permesso spingere la ricerca, nell'oceano
della verità. Di modo che il filosofo cattolico verrebbe a trovarsi in questa
imbarazzante condizione: dover torcere inorridito lo sguardo dalla storia della
filosofia, diventata per lui un enigma indecifrabile (un catalogo d'errori non
è una storia) e di dover, insieme, rinunziare a qualsiasi iniziativa
scientifica nel campo della filosofia pura. Viceversa il filosofo “moderno” non
ha pregiudizi quanto a storia della filosofia, che può intendere e ricostruire
appieno appunto perché può e sa simpatizzare con tutti i sistemi anche più
opposti, persuaso di trovarvi sempre un'anima di verità, e in filosofia pura
può dar sfogo a tutte le ardite idee e intuizioni geniali, significando
liberamente quanto una prepotente ispirazione gli detta dentro e costruendo, se
così gli paresse, anche un nuovo sistema al giorno, con immenso vantaggio per
le magnifiche e progressive sorti del genere umano. Con questo, gli applausi
delle platee sono assicurati al libero filosofo moderno, e i fischi e
gl'improperi ricacciano fra le tenebre medioevali colui che avesse lo
sconsigliato ardire di voler essere al tempo stesso cattolico e filosofo, o
“scolastico”, “tomista” e filosofo. Ci sia permessa, prima di procedere
oltre, una semplice osservazione. Anche a proposito di questo piccolo dramma, o
di questa piccola commedia, dove si fanno muovere con tanta disinvoltura i
personaggi del filosofo moderno e del filosofo cattolico, occorre ricordare che
le parole sono parole e gli argomenti sono argomenti. I termini di “modernità”,
di “libera ricerca”, di “ progresso del pensiero” e simili, fanno sempre un grande
effetto, anche quando la realtà che essi designano sia per avventura - e ciò
accade non poche volte - assai mediocre e meschina. Tutti vogliono essere, in
questo mondo, spregiudicati, liberi, moderni e progrediti, e hanno a noia di
sentirsi chiamare oscurantisti, arretrati e schiavi, così come tutti vogliono
essere intelligenti e civili, e hanno grandemente a noia di sentirsi chiamare
stupidi o barbari. È un troppo naturale effetto dell'amor proprio, sia negli
uomini che nelle dottrine e nei sistemi da essi escogitati. Ma appunto perché è
un naturale effetto dell'amor proprio, bisogna diffidarne; e come a chi ci
venisse innanzi affermandoci di esser molto intelligente e civile noi non
crederemmo già sulla parola, ma domanderemmo le prove della sua asserzione,
e vorremmo sapere quali fatti e quali opere gli danno il diritto di ambire a
quei titoli onorevoli, così ad una dottrina che ci afferma d'esser progredita e
libera, moderna e spregiudicata, noi non possiamo credere ciecamente, ma
dobbiamo domandare quali prove effettive di libertà, di progresso e di
spregiudicatezza, essa sia in condizione d'offrirci. II. Il procedimento
adoperato, di solito, dagli avversari per fare apparire la filosofia dei
cattolici, e, sopratutto, la filosofia tomistica e scolastica, come retriva e
non all'altezza dei tempi, è un procedimento così artificiale ed artificioso
che chiunque si provasse ad usarlo per valutare qualunque altra filosofia non
scolastica né cattolica, si attirerebbe certo un coro di vituperi. E se queste
parole, di solito adoperate a indicare cosa molto diversa da quella che
vogliamo dir noi, non corressero il rischio d'esser fraintese, diremmo che tale
procedimento è assai simile a quella “illusione cinematografica” del pensiero
per la quale si pensa d'aver afferrato e ricostruito un organismo vivente
quando se ne sono raccostate alcune immagini parziali e frammentarie. E,
infatti, tutto l'equivoco si fonda su questo: quando alcuno dice di ritener
vera una filosofia, sia essa scolastica o antiscolastica, religiosa o
irreligiosa, idealistica o positivistica, dogmatica o scettica e così via, è
costretto a dirlo con frasi e parole le quali ci danno, per forza, di essa
soltanto un'immagine approssimativa e inadeguata. E tanto più approssimativa ed
inadeguata, quanto meno è possibile condensare in una breve formula verbale,
qual è quella per cui uno si dichiara scolastico, materialista, idealista o
naturalista ecc., ciò che è veramente essenziale nella filosofia: gli argomenti
coi quali essa stabilisce e dimostra le proprie tesi. E questo stesso carattere
di approssimazione e di inadeguatezza si estende, in un certo senso, a tutte le
parole, e a tutte le frasi, e a tutti i libri che sono stati scritti per
esporla e svolgerla, ognuno dei quali, per importante che sia, non si può mai
dire che esaurisca in sé tutta quella dottrina che pure insegna, o possa
considerarsene un equivalente materialmente completo. Tanto è vero che da che
mondo è mondo si continua a scriver libri per esporre e difendere le varie
dottrine filosofiche, e ancora non s'è finito, né si può finire. Poiché una
dottrina filosofica è un insieme di concetti e di ragionamenti: e benché
concetti e ragionamenti si esprimano, certo, con parole e con libri, e si
possano, magari, riassumere e indicare con brevi formule, pure, non i libri e
le parole o le formule, ma i concetti e i ragionamenti costituiscono l'essenza
della dottrina. E chi, perciò, la dottrina vuol capire, non deve fermarsi alle
parole e alle formule, ma deve, mediante esse, risalire ai concetti e ai
ragionamenti, cioè compiere in sé quell'atto dell'intelletto pel quale si
costituisce e si dimostra una determinata dottrina: che non è, evidentemente,
lo stesso atto col quale si ripete materialmente una formula, o s'impara a
memoria un libro. Segue da ciò che quando un filosofo vi dice “siate
idealisti”, “siate scettici”, “siate cattolici” o “siate scolastici”, e vi
scrive un libro per dimostrarvelo, o vi indica alcuni classici della filosofia
quali Hegel o Sesto Empirico, Aristotele o San Tommaso, come quelli coi quali
il suo pensiero meglio si trova d'accordo, non può essere davvero così sciocco
ed insensato da volervi indurre solo a ripetere pappagallescamente “siamo
scolastici” o “siamo scettici”, o a ripetere tal quali le sue parole, e ad imparare
a memoria i libri di Hegel o di Sesto Empirico, di Aristotele e di San Tommaso.
Ma pretende, invece, che i suoi uditori o lettori, da quelle formule e da quei
libri risalgano ai ragionamenti in essi contenuti, e, mediante u n
positivo lavoro del loro intelletto, li riscontrino veri e se li approprino,
facendo così un'opera di ricerca che è certamente originale, benché riesca
(nihil sub sole novi!) a conclusioni già scoperte da altri pensatori, siano
essi Hegel o Sesto Empirico, Kant o San Tommaso. Né questo riuscire a
conclusioni già scoperte da altri menoma in nulla l'originalità e la libertà
della ricerca; giacché la libertà del pensiero non consiste punto nel non aver
nulla innanzi a sé, ma solo nel non accettare nulla che non sia dimostrato vero.
E quando una dottrina è dimostrata vera, la libertà dell'intelletto è
garantita, in altro non consistendo tale libertà se non nell'esser fatto
l'intelletto per conoscere il vero, e quindi nell'esser libero e attivo sol
quando il vero effettivamente conosce. Ma che cosa fanno, rispetto alla
scolastica, e quindi rispetto al cattolicesimo, i critici poco esperti, o male
intenzionati? Credono, o mostrano di credere, che i filosofi scolastici siano,
essi soli, così insensati da far consistere la loro filosofia, non nel pensiero
ma nelle parole, sì che, presso i soli cattolici esser “scolastici” significhi
non già compiere quell'effettivo e originale processo di pensiero pel quale
ognuno può riscontrare col proprio intelletto la verità della filosofia scolastica,
ma solo mandare a memoria e ripetere, senza mutare una virgola, l'una e l'altra
Summa di San Tommaso. Onde, la facile accusa agli scolastici d'esser ripetitori
pedissequi e di voler, perciò, diseducare il pensiero umano, riducendo ogni
ricerca scientifica alla meccanica fatica di ripetere frasi, o libri altrui,
con quelle pessime conseguenze per l'educazione e per la scuola che già abbiamo
udito deplorare. Accusa alla quale, evidentemente, non si può rispondere
altro che negando l'arbitraria e cervellotica supposizione dalla quale è
partita. Nessun filosofo scolastico, infatti, s'è mai sognato di voler indicare
col termine “scolastica” soltanto la parola e non la cosa, i libri, e siano pur
di San Tommaso, e non la dottrina in essi contenuta, le conclusioni, e non il
concreto processo di pensiero col quale ci si arriva. Nessun filosofo
scolastico, quando dice agli altri “siate scolastici” vuol loro imporre la
irragionevole schiavitù di una dottrina senza dimostrazione e senza ricerca.
Nessun filosofo scolastico, infine, ha mai creduto che la sua filosofia fosse
altro che un concreto processo di pensiero, nel quale certe tesi si dimostrano
vere alla luce della ragione e dell'esperienza e mediante lo sforzo originale
di colui che studia. Il quale, poiché si tratta appunto d'una dottrina e non
d'un pezzo di legno, non potrà certo afferrarla e mettersela in tasca così
com'è, ma dovrà bene arrivarci nell’unico modo possibile, cioè pensando e
ripensando, e non smettendo mai di pensare, argomentando, inducendo, deducendo,
sillogizzando, dialettizzando e così via; che sono precisamente, se non
c'inganniamo, i modi e le forme attraverso le quali il pensiero umano afferma
la propria attività e originalità, garantendosi di conoscere il vero, e
respingendo da sé il falso. Né si vede in che cosa, sotto questo aspetto, la
dottrina scolastica differisca dalle altre dottrine, idealistiche o
positivistiche, materialistiche o scettiche. Che se appare diversamente, è
sempre per quel tale equivoco fra il pensiero e le parole, sul quale gli
avversari della scolastica si compiacciono d'insistere. Infatti, una
dottrina, come or ora s'è visto, la si formula in parole e in libri che,
naturalmente, in un primo tempo, e a chi li guardi dall'esterno, debbono per
forza apparire un puro dato, esterno anch'esso; esterno, ben inteso, finché
colui che esamina la dottrina proposta non sia in condizione di passare
all'interno, cioè di riscontrare vera, mediante la propria ricerca, la dottrina
medesima, persuadendosi così anche della bontà ed esattezza di quelle
espressioni, di quelle formule, di quei libri che prima gli erano apparsi
qualcosa di arbitrario e di indimostrato. Ma questa, se così vogliamo dirla,
imperfezione e limitazione del pensiero umano che non può afferrar la verità
immediatamente e tutto in una volta, ma è costretto a raggiungerla per gradi,
non ricade certo sulla sola filosofia scolastica, bensì appartiene a tutte le
dottrine, idealistiche o positivistiche, materialistiche o scettiche che siano.
Le quali, debbono pure anch'esse formularsi in parole e in libri che, in un
primo tempo appaiono, per forza, un puro e indimostrato dato esterno, finchè
colui che le esamina non è in condizione di dimostrar vera la rispettiva teoria
idealistica o positivistica, materialistica o scettica. Il che è ancor
più manifesto quando si tratta della scuola e dello scolaro; che, appunto
perché scolaro non è ancora in tali condizioni da poter riscontrare da sé e
colle sue sole forze la verità della dottrina insegnata e deve, ancora per un pezzo
seguitare a imparar libri e definizioni e formule delle quali non scorge, o
scorge solo imperfettamente la ragione. Che se in questo fatto cosi semplice si
vuol trovare a tutti i costi una oppressione e un vincolo alla libertà del
pensiero umano, allora non soltanto la scolastica, ma anche ogni altra
dottrina, idealistica o positivistica, materialistica o scettica e, magari,
eclettica, si dovrà dire oppressiva e restrittiva per la libertà del pensiero,
e perciò, in quanto tale, oscurantista e retriva, di fatto, anche se a parole
si dichiara svisceratamente amica della libertà e del progresso. Non si vede
infatti perché il proporsi come testo di studio San Tommaso debba esser più
oppressivo, o restrittivo che proporsi Kant, Hegel o Ardigò, e perché
l'imparare definizioni e formule scolastiche debba esser più avvilente che
imparare definizioni o formule positivistiche o idealistiche, vero essendo che
in ogni caso ci s'imbatte nel solito dilemma dal quale non è dato trovare una
via d'uscita. O il presentare una dottrina restringendola in alcune formule e
in alcuni libri ed autori, che in un primo tempo appaiono, necessariamente,
allo studioso come puri dati esterni da accettarsi solo sull'autorità altrui
(salvo a ottenerne, in un secondo tempo, una compiuta dimostrazione) è
ammissibile, oppure non lo è. Se è ammissibile, nulla ci vieta d' insegnare la
scolastica, così come altri insegna l'idealismo o il positivismo o di prendere
per testo San Tommaso così come altri può prendere Hegel o Spencer. Se non è
ammissibile, la scolastica diventa, certo, una dottrina oppressiva,
incompatibile con l'attività e la libertà del pensiero umano, ma anche
l'idealismo, il positivismo, lo scetticismo e persino l'eclettismo diventano
dottrine altrettanto retrive e incompatibili con l’attività e la libertà del
pensiero umano. Ciò è tanto vero, che, in ogni tempo, ci sono stati
autori e scrittori più coerenti degli altri, i quali, per essere imparziali e
non far danno a nessuno, hanno addirittura dichiarato oppressiva, antiquata e
insopportabile la filosofia stessa, a qualsivoglia tendenza o dottrina
appartenente, e si sono vantati di condurre liberamente la loro vita
intellettuale, fuori dalle ristrette gabbie delle dottrine e dei sistemi.
Pretesa assurda certo, poiché, come è noto a tutti, anche il dire di non
credere nella filosofia è fare della filosofia, e anche il dire di non avere un
sistema è un sistema, come lo scetticismo, l'eclettismo o qualche altro tipo
simile. Ma pretesa coerente, anzi coerentissima con l'assurdo medesimo dal
quale è partita, poiché se insegnare una qualsiasi dottrina rigorosamente
definita e formulata vuol dire opprimere il pensiero, il miglior modo, anzi,
l'unico modo di non opprimere il pensiero sarà addirittura quello di non
formulare né insegnare mai nessuna dottrina, né idealistica, né scolastica, né
materialistica né di altro indirizzo. Soluzione che sarebbe l'ideale
dell'economia e della semplicità per filosofi, scienziati, legislatori, maestri
e scolari, se solo non avesse, come or ora s'è chiarito, il difetto d'essere
inattuabile. Colla pura e semplice denunzia di un equivoco verbale cadono,
dunque gran parte delle irragionevoli e ingiustificate antipatie contro la
filosofia scolastica. La quale non è un insieme di frasi o di formule da
ripetere meccanicamente, ma è un vivente organismo di pensieri da pensare; così
come appunto sono, o vogliono essere, tutti gli altri sistemi filosofici. Una
dottrina che, lungi dal pretendere d'imporsi irragionevolmente o
arbitrariamente al pensiero umano, non vuole essere accettata altro che
mediante argomenti e dimostrazioni. È bene ricordarlo, poiché oggi certe
nozioni sono grandemente obliate anche da coloro che per professione ed ufficio
avrebbero l'obbligo di meglio conoscerle. La filosofia scolastica pretende di
essere accettata unicamente perché vera e dimostrabile tale con argomenti
filosofici; e dimostrabile a chiunque, anche a chi non creda punto in una
rivelazione religiosa, anzi a chi non sappia neppure se una rivelazione
religiosa ci sia o no, sia possibile o meno, tutte questioni che si possono
trattare dopo, e non prima che l'indagine filosofica abbia saldamente stabilito
e dimostrato vera una certa concezione della realtà. Questo spiega perché sia
molto meglio e più conforme alla precisione scientifica parlare di filosofia
“scolastica” che di filosofia “cristiana” o “cattolica”, contenendo questi
ultimi termini un riferimento alla rivelazione religiosa e alla teologia che
non è ancora ammissibile, né dimostrabile, durante la pura ricerca filosofica,
laddove il termine “scolastica” ha il vantaggio di definire direttamente la
filosofia dal suo stesso contenuto dottrinale o speculativo, senza introdurre
altri elementi. Che se, ciò nonostante, è gloria della scolastica aver
adoperato e adoperare tuttavia anche l'altro metodo, ed essersi servita della
Rivelazione cattolica e della teologia per controllare le sue tesi, l'uso di
questo secondo metodo non ha mai infirmato l'uso del primo, che vale durante la
ricerca filosofica e prima di aver saputo se c'è ed è possibile una rivelazione
religiosa, così come l'altro vale dopo averlo saputo ed essersi persuasi, cogli
argomenti e della filosofia e della teologia ”fondamentale” o apologetica, che
una rivelazione è possibile, e c'è, ed è proprio la rivelazione cattolica.
Risulta, dunque, evidente da quel che si è detto fin qui che per insegnare
filosofia scolastica da parte del maestro, come per apprenderla da parte del
discepolo occorre precisamente tanto spirito inventivo ed originalità quanta ne
occorre per insegnare od apprendere qualunque altro sistema filosofico, e che,
perciò il meccanicismo, il mnemonismo, il dogmatismo irragionevole e
l'oscurantismo sono da temersi nell'insegnamento della filosofia scolastica
appunto quanto sono da temersi nell'insegnamento di ogni altra filosofia, né
più, né meno. Questo significa che non c'è un criterio estrinseco col quale si
possa decidere su due piedi quali filosofie siano per riuscire,
nell'insegnamento, oppressive, e quali liberatrici; ma che un tale criterio è
soltanto interno, in altro non consistendo che nella maggiore o minore verità
delle filosofie stesse. Fra le quali, secondo quanto già abbiamo
avvertito prima, solo una dottrina vera sarà sul serio liberatrice, e le altre
riusciranno sempre e per forza oppressive, dogmatiche e oscurantiste; poiché
solo il vero può imporsi all'intelletto dello scolaro con l'intima forza della
persuasione, senza ricorrere a minacce, lusinghe, o costrizioni esterne, alle
quali, invece, debbono necessariamente ricorrere i sistemi erronei che
riescono, dunque, sempre malamente dogmatici e oppressivi, e portano, perciò,
nella scuola le cattive conseguenze che si volevano addossare alla scolastica,
qualunque sia la loro etichetta di modernità o l'altisonante affermazione di
libertà colle quali si presentano al pubblico. Ma con ciò eccoci
ritornati - sembra - al punto donde eravamo partiti. Poiché - si dirà - anche
col massimo buon volere, e anche deposto ogni ingiustificato pregiudizio contro
la scolastica, è certo che proprio in questa diversa concezione del quando e a
quali condizioni debba ritenersi vera una filosofia sta la differenza più
notevole fra il sistema scolastico e il sistema moderno, e il conseguente
pericolo che la scolastica introdotta nell'insegnamento porti quei frutti di oppressione
e di scarso spirito scientifico che si temevano. Infatti, s'era già detto: per
la scolastica la verità è qualcosa di già fatto, ed esistente fuori del
pensiero che la pensa, dunque: una sola dottrina è vera, e tutte le altre
debbono per forza esser false. Per il pensiero moderno, invece, la verità
e la realtà medesima coincidono con l'atto stesso del pensare, perciò cambiano,
si svolgono, si accrescono, collo svolgersi del pensiero e, dunque, non una
sola dottrina ma tutte le dottrine sono vere, in quanto ognuna di esse è sempre
un atto del pensiero che si crea ogni volta la sua verità. E rieccoci, allora,
a quelle tali conseguenze tanto deprecate. Poiché, mentre il filosofo
scolastico non potrà che insegnare ai suoi discepoli una sola dottrina, la sua,
il filosofo moderno potrà non solo insegnare tutte le dottrine che la storia
della filosofia abbia mai registrato, ma potrà, anzi, dovrà incitare il
discepolo a “crearne” delle nuove. E va benissimo. Sennonché, a un esame
più attento, questo modo di ragionare che sembra correr cosi piano e facile, si
rivela almeno tanto superficiale quanto il precedente. Poiché, in primo luogo,
esso cela in sé una proposizione non dimostrata né dimostrabile, e cioè che il
gran numero dei sistemi filosofici insegnati nella scuola sia un bene; e che
coincida colla libertà e col progresso del pensiero. Allo stesso modo, si
direbbe scherzando, ragionava quel bravo villico che, convinto che se una
pillola faceva bene due avrebbero fatto meglio e tre meglio ancora, pensò di
guarir subito col pigliar tutte insieme le pillole che gli aveva ordinato il
dottore, ma invece di guarire morì, contrariamente alle sue poco sagge
previsioni. I sistemi filosofici - se si preferisce un paragone meno
malinconico - non sono già come i polli, le pernici, i poderi o i biglietti da
mille, che più se ne ha meglio è. E chi crede che l'insegnamento di molte
dottrine filosofiche coincida per lo scolaro con l'originalità, col progresso e
colla libertà dello spirito, mostra d'aver confuso due cose fra loro tanto
diverse come il “progresso” e il “mutamento”. Pregiudizio, in verità, molto
diffuso ai giorni nostri, e che nasce dall'aver inconsapevolmente confuso fra
loro due ordini di realtà così diversi come il materiale e l'ideale. Se,
infatti, una dottrina filosofica, poniamo la scolastica, fosse un campo o un
orto, si avrebbe ragione di dire che chi si rinchiude in essa, rinunzia a tutto
lo spazio ch'è al di là dei suoi confini, come il misantropo che se ne sta
dietro i cancelli di casa sua e non vuol mettere il naso fuori. Ma una dottrina
non è un campo o un orto, bensì un atto immateriale del pensiero, e in
quanto tale non ha altri confini che il suo riuscire o meno a colpir la verità.
E se riesce a coglierla, essa non si lascia fuori più niente, né ha bisogno di
cercare altrove che in se stessa i motivi d'un infinito progresso e sviluppo:
ché essendo la verità per sua natura infinita, non c'è mai un momento nel quale
si possa dire d'averne esaurito la conoscenza; ed essendo la filosofia un atto
immateriale, non viene mai il momento in cui si possa metter da parte in un
cassetto per riprenderla meccanicamente; ma sempre fa d'uopo ripensarla, cioè
pensarla davvero, con una attività la cui originalità e spontaneità è
inesauribile. Approfondire la verità, questo è il progresso. Per contro, è
proprio l'errore che ci presenta una indefinita molteplicità e un continuo
cambiamento di sistemi; poiché, dove la mente non può acquietarsi nel
tranquillo ritmo progressivo d'una dottrina vera, è costretta a cercare un
simulacro di progresso nel mutamento, e a ripagarsi colla illusoria ricchezza
dei molti sistemi, della effettiva miseria inerente alla loro falsità. Per cui
dal momento che la verità è una e gli errori sono molti, le parti vanno
invertite e quei filosofi che si vantano di permettere, anzi, di introdurre
nella scuola molte dottrine, o non sanno quel che si dicono, o si vantano d'una
cosa assurda com'è insegnare l'errore e mettere al bando la verità. E
viceversa, quei filosofi che vogliono nella scuola una sola dottrina, non solo
fanno onore alla loro intelligenza di filosofi, ma sono, essi, gli unici
fautori d'uno spirito sanamente progressivo e inventivo qual è quello che può
aversi dalla conoscenza della verità. Ma qualcuno può ancora obbiettarci:
il vostro ragionamento ha il solito difetto: presuppone arbitrariamente la
vostra concezione della verità ed esclude la nostra. Si capisce che se la
verità è tale che possa esser colta da una sola dottrina ad esclusione di tutte
le altre, voi avete ragione nel voler che quella sola dottrina venga insegnata.
Ma, e se la verità non fosse tale che potesse coglierla una sola dottrina, ma
si trovasse in tutte le dottrine, come appunto sosteniamo noi? Non avremmo,
allora, ragione noi di sostenere che la presenza, nella scuola, di tutti i
principali sistemi filosofici, sia utile e necessaria? La risposta a
questa obiezione non può essere che una sola: non esistono due concetti
differenti della verità, benché esistano le parole colle quali ci si illude di
esprimere un concetto della verità diverso dal nostro. Ma sono vuote parole; e
la dimostrazione ce la forniscono gli avversari stessi. Quando essi dicono,
infatti, di non creder vera una teoria filosofica ad esclusione delle altre, ma
di tener vere tutte le teorie che la storia della filosofia registra, che cosa
fanno essi mai se non sostenere e difendere come vera una loro teoria
filosofica particolare? Dire che la verità è in tutti i sistemi filosofici, non
è forse sostenere una teoria filosofica? È il solito argomento contro lo
scetticismo e l'eclettismo: filosofie che proclamano, sia di non creder vera
alcuna teoria filosofica, sia di ammetterle tutte, e intanto cominciano, sotto
mano, col creder vere se stesse e solo se stesse. Ora, la contraddizione è
evidente. Ritener vere tutte le filosofie vorrebbe dire ritener vere anche
quelle filosofie che affermano esserci una sola filosofia vera e tutte le altre
esser false. Ma ammetter queste filosofie vorrebbe dire distruggere appunto
quella nozione della verità alla quale tanto si tiene, e che esclude
assolutamente potersi sostenere la verità di una sola filosofia, cioè
distruggere lo stesso principio eclettico, o idealistico. Onde, una delle due:
o l'idealismo, l'eclettismo e gli altri sistemi dello stesso tipo restano fedeli
al loro programma di ammetter vere senza esclusione alcuna tutte le filosofie,
e si uccidono colle proprie mani, perché debbono tener vero anche il concetto
della verità opposto al loro. Oppure ammettono tutte le filosofie, ma
eccettuate quelle che sostengono un concetto della verità opposto al loro, e
allora la loro famosa tolleranza e larghezza di vedute è finita, ed essi
sono liquidati come idealismo od eclettismo, avendo dimostrato col fatto che la
verità non sta punto in tutti i sistemi filosofici, ma solo in alcuni, e
precisamente in quelli che s'accordano con l'idealismo o con l'eclettismo,
cioè, in ultima analisi, in un sistema solo. La libertà, dunque, che la
filosofia moderna pensa di garantire in fatto di sistemi, è molto simile alla libertà
di certe democrazie, ove ognuno è libero di pensarla a suo modo purché, però,
non dissenta in nulla dal pensiero dei governanti. Libero ognuno di scegliersi
il sistema filosofico che vuole, purché questo sistema sia l'idealistico, o
almeno s'accordi in tutto col criterio fondamentale dell'idealismo: essere la
verità in divenire continuo ed essere, perciò, vere tutte le filosofie che lo
spirito umano ha escogitato. Ché fuori di questo concetto non v'è salvezza
possibile, e le filosofie che non lo ammettono, non sono filosofie, ma aborti
del pensiero, non vanno neppure presi in considerazione, anzi, vanno seppelliti
sotto l'unanime disprezzo della gente ben pensante. Ora, quando si è stabilito
ciò che in un sistema filosofico è più importante, cioè il concetto della
verità, tutto il resto ne viene di necessaria conseguenza, e si può ben lasciar
libero lo studioso di dedurlo in un modo piuttosto che nell'altro, di fregiarlo
con un titolo piuttosto che con l'altro, e di compiacersi, così, della propria
intelligenza ed originalità inventiva. Allo stesso modo, per ripigliar
l'esempio di prima, poco importa che in quelle tali democrazie la gente voti in
un modo o nell'altro ed abbia l'una o l'altra costituzione - tutte cose intorno
alle quali, anzi, è bene che ciascuno si diverta a discutere a perdifiato,
ricavandone un gran senso della propria dignità e importanza - purché, alla
resa dei conti, siano sempre gli stessi uomini politici che detengono
effettivamente il potere. Così la storia della filosofia che i pensatori
moderni si vantano d'insegnare con tanta larghezza e liberalità, si risolve in
una illusione. Poiché, sotto l’apparenza di tutti i sistemi filosofici che la
mente umana ha escogitato, da Talete ai giorni nostri, la dottrina insegnata è
sempre una sola: l'idealismo, il concetto della verità come coincidente collo
sviluppo stesso del pensiero umano, e come escludente qualsiasi altra realtà
che il pensiero umano non sia. Ed è ben vero che si parla di Talete e di
Platone, di Aristotele e di S. Tommaso, di Kant e di Hegel, di Stuart Mill e di
Spencer, e che ognuno vi può spaziare entro i confini del materialismo e del
platonismo, della scolastica e del kantismo, del positivismo e
dell'agnosticismo e via dicendo. Ma si tratta di un dramma dove i personaggi si
riducono ad uno solo, benché volta a volta variamente travestito, e dove Talete
e Platone, Aristotele e San Tommaso, Kant ed Hegel, Stuart Mill e Spencer,
sono, volenti o nolenti, costretti a rappresentare un'unica parte, quella del
filosofo idealista; ora dell'idealista in germe, più tardi dell'idealista
consapevole fino a metà, poi dell'idealista evoluto e progredito, dopo ancora,
dell'idealista che nega se stesso, ma prepara così la strada a un nuovo e più
moderno idealismo, ma in ogni caso, sempre e soltanto, la parte del filosofo
idealista. Poco importano le forme, circa le quali, anzi, si può concedere la
massima libertà, purché la sostanza sia sempre quella. Ma che volete
farci? - sembra di sentire rispondere un filosofo idealista - Dal momento che
la dottrina idealistica è la vera e che l'intelletto umano non può, per quanti
sforzi faccia, appagarsi se non del vero, necessariamente in tutti i sistemi
escogitati dalla mente umana per risolvere i nostri problemi si ritroverà, per
forza, qualche cosa dell'idealismo, cioè della verità. Noi, non facciamo altro
che metterlo in luce. - Ah, dunque eccovi colti colle mani nel sacco! Anche voi
credete una dottrina vera, cioè conforme all'intima costituzione della realtà
(e sia pur questa realtà la sola storia) e mediante essa vi assumete il
diritto di giudicare tutti gli altri sistemi. Orbene, che cosa farebbe di
diverso la più intollerante, tagliente ed autoritaria filosofia scolastica? Che
cosa, se non precisamente ritener vera una dottrina e giudicare con essa tutte
le altre? Che cosa, se non mostrarci che anche tutte le altre dottrine, in
quanto sono davvero pensabili, e, cioè vere, e non si riducono a parole e
fantasmi dell'immaginazione in servizio di bisogni sentimentali e pratici,
sono, parzialmente o totalmente, implicitamente o esplicitamente,
consapevolmente o no, conformi alla scolastica stessa? Che cosa, se non
configurare tutta la storia della filosofia, in quanto storia della scienza
filosofica, e non delle aberrazioni o dei bisogni fantastici, passionali e
pratici dello spirito umano, come preparazione, svolgimento, decadenza,
rifioritura ecc. della filosofia scolastica? Ciò posto, non si vede in
che cosa, anche per questa parte, la posizione della scolastica sia inferiore a
quella dell'idealismo, o a quella di qualsiasi altro sistema filosofico che si
affermi vero e voglia sostenere la propria verità coi mezzi consentiti dalla
ragione. Né si vede in che cosa la scolastica meriti più di qualsiasi altro
sistema l'accusa d'intolleranza, di dogmatismo o di oscurantismo, dato che una
tale accusa, fallitole il concetto d'una verità omnibus, è costretta a
poggiarsi su elementi puramente accidentali. Quali sarebbero, ad esempio, il
fatto che i sistemi filosofici riconosciuti vicini alla verità sono in maggior
numero per l'idealismo che per la scolastica, o che sono nati in epoche
cronologicamente diverse, poniamo nel secolo XIII o XIV anziché nel XVIII o nel
XIX. Circostanze che non fanno né caldo né freddo, poiché la verità non ha
nulla da spartire colla quantità o colla cronologia, né si vede perché debba
appartenere al secolo XIX anziché al XIII, o perché debba esser posseduta, in
forma scientificamente adeguata, da molti sistemi anziché da pochi o perché un
professore tedesco in parrucca e codino debba averla vista meglio d'un frate
domenicano colla sua brava tonaca e cintola. E ciò anche a prescindere da
apprezzamenti di fatto, i quali ci mostrerebbero che la scolastica ha i suoi
rappresentanti nel secolo XIX non meno che nel secolo XIII; e grandi - usiamo
espressioni volutamente moderatissime - non meno di qualsiasi altro
rappresentante di qualsiasi altra modernissima “novità” filosofica idealistica,
materialistica, pragmatistica e così via. Supponiamo che qualcheduno
dicesse: Signori, io vi dimostro che l'arte di G. D'Annunzio, o di F. T.
Marinetti è superiore a quella d'Omero e di Pindaro. Infatti quest'ultima è
arte antica e quell'altra è arte moderna: ora, dai tempi antichi, dei Greci, ad
oggi si sono effettuati innegabilmente dei progressi; dunque, anche l'arte
d'oggi deve essere in progresso su quella d'una volta. Un tale ragionamento ci
farebbe, certo, assai ridere né vi sarebbe scolaretto che non ne sapesse
scoprire l'errore pel quale, dal fatto che un'opera d'arte è venuta dopo
un'altra, si vorrebbe dedurre ch'essa è anche migliore dell'altra, e dai
progressi dell'umanità, poniamo nelle scienze naturali, nella vita civile e
nella produzione economica, si vorrebbero inferire i suoi progressi in un campo
del tutto diverso qual è l'artistico. Ora, lo stesso errore che è derisibile
applicato alla storia dell'arte, non è meno derisibile se applicato alla storia
della filosofia ove il professore X od Y, autore di un novissimo sistema,
dovrebbe saperne più di Aristotele o di San Tommaso, sol perché è nato tanti
secoli dopo. Si crede di negare tale analogia fra la storia della filosofia e
quella dell'arte con l'osservare che l'arte è l'espressione del temperamento
individuale dell'artista, che è, appunto come temperamento individuale, non
trasmissibile, e perciò esclude il progresso da uomo a uomo e da tempo a tempo,
mentre la filosofia è la conoscenza d'una verità universale ed astratta, che
può e deve, quindi, essere trasmessa e progredire. Ma si dimentica che
progresso possibile non vuol dire progresso reale, e che anzi il progresso
filosofico, il quale sarebbe necessario e ineluttabile se l'uomo fosse solo
puro intelletto come gli angeli, ha da fare i conti, nelle attuali condizioni
umane, proprio colle attitudini, coi bisogni, colle tendenze, colle passioni,
cioè, in una parola, col “temperamento” del filosofo, che è tanto personale,
intrasmissibile, e perciò non suscettibile di passare, progredendo, da
individuo a individuo, quanto il temperamento dell'artista e che influisce
sulla conoscenza della verità in filosofia, quanto il temperamento dell'artista
sulla produzione dell'opera d'arte. E con conseguenze assai più gravi, poiché
se all'arte basta riuscire sincera espressione d'un temperamento per essere
arte, e se anche temperamenti mediocri possono riuscire artisti, senza bisogno
d'arrivare all'altezza di Omero o di Dante; alla filosofia non basta essere
espressione anche sincera d'un temperamento personale per riuscir vera, anzi,
il più delle volte la mediocrità, la povertà, le scarse doti del temperamento
individuale d'un filosofo avranno per conseguenza il non fargli trovare la
verità e il fargli produrre un sistema sincero e personale sì, ma falso; onde
segue che il filosofo, se vuol esser certo di non sbagliare deve sempre batter
l'ala vicino alle altezze di Platone, d'Aristotele o di San Tommaso, poiché,
nel suo caso la mediocrità è la morte. E la diversità notata sopra tra l'arte e
la filosofia vale solo in questo: mentre l'artista deve esser grande lui e non
ammette sostituzioni, il filosofo, se non è grande lui, può andare a scuola dai
grandi e ricevere da loro quella verità che colle sole sue forze non avrebbe
saputo scoprire. In ogni caso, non c'è da meravigliarsi che i grandi
filosofi, come i grandi poeti, siano pochi, e nascano nelle più diverse epoche
che la Provvidenza ha stabilito, senza darsi pensiero della successione
cronologica né del progresso. E dunque è chiaro che la scolastica può aver le
sue buone ragioni nel concedere relativamente a pochi l'ambìto titolo di
filosofi, come la storia dell'arte concede a pochi l’ambìto titolo di poeti, e
che l'opposto criterio, il quale vorrebbe che ogni momento nascesse un filosofo
capace di “creare” una “nuova” filosofia è lungi dal parere soddisfacente. E
può essere anche indizio d'un inadeguato e troppo largo concetto della
filosofia, così come sarebbe segno d'un insufficiente concetto dell'arte lo
scovare i poeti a decine e centinaia per ogni lustro, quando è risaputo che la
vera arte e la vera filosofia sono cose difficili e che, perciò, in ogni tempo
la grande maggioranza di coloro che si qualificano poeti o filosofi è composta,
invece, di pseudo-poeti o di pseudo-filosofi. Possiamo dunque riconfermare,
senza tema di smentite, la nostra conclusione. Ogni sistema filosofico,
idealistico o scolastico, scettico o materialistico, non può, nonostante ogni
sforzo contrario, insegnare mai più di una dottrina e di una verità, la quale
necessariamente esclude la verità di altre dottrine diverse od opposte. E il
sogno di una dottrina che abbracci e concili in sé tutte le altre dottrine si
rivela presto per quello che è, un puro e semplice sogno, sfornito di qualsiasi
consistenza scientifica, l'eterno sogno irrealizzabile, perché contraddittorio,
dello scetticismo e dell'eclettismo. La verità di questa proposizione
risulta manifesta dallo stesso ingenuo sofisma col quale gli avversari pensano
di poter mettere la scolastica e il cattolicesimo al bando dalla scuola
moderna. La nostra filosofia ammette e giustifica, tanto la scolastica e
il cattolicesimo quanto il pensiero moderno, la vostra, invece, nega il
pensiero moderno, e ammette soltanto la scolastica, dunque voi siete più
ristretti ed intolleranti di noi. Sofisma la cui apparente consistenza è data
dal duplice significato che s'attribuisce al termine “ammettere” o
“giustificare”, che una volta si prende nel senso di “condividere” una dottrina
e accettarne la verità, e un'altra volta si prende nel senso di “giustificarla”
storicamente, cioè di indagare le condizioni storiche nelle quali nacque, i
bisogni ai quali rispose e così via. Poiché, se si tratta di “giustificare” nel
primo senso, allora è certo che la scolastica non può ammettere e insegnare
come vero l’idealismo, il positivismo o qualsiasi altro sistema del genere, ma
è altrettanto certo che neppure l'idealismo, il materialismo o un altro sistema
simile possono ammettere e insegnar come vera la scolastica, tanta essendo
l'opposizione della scolastica a quegli altri sistemi, quanta è per l'appunto
l'opposizione degli altri sistemi alla scolastica. Ma se si tratta di
“giustificare” nel secondo senso, allora anche la scolastica si può prendere il
gusto di fare una elegante rassegna di tutti i sistemi filosofici che ci sono
stati da che mondo è mondo, metterli in bell'ordine, studiarne i corsi e ricorsi,
assegnarne le condizioni, enumerare le cause che li hanno fatti nascere e ne
hanno garantito il successo, corredando il tutto con un grande apparato di
erudizione critica e una sesquipedale bibliografia. Può prendersi il gusto,
diciamo, poiché in realtà la scolastica, possedendo un concetto della verità
molto più severo ed elevato di quello che mostrano d'avere tanti sistemi
moderni, è sollecita più della formazione mentale, che della brillante
informazione ed erudizione dei suoi scolari, e teme sempre non accada loro
questa disgrazia: «necessaria non norunt, quia superflua didicerunt»: il che la
conduce a limitare, nella scuola, più che sia possibile questa parte
storico-erudita, nella quale tanto si compiacciono i sistemi moderni, perché
tanto bene si accorda col loro intimo scetticismo ed eclettismo. E allora la
discussione sarà, non più sulla necessità di tener per veri o meno questi o
quei sistemi filosofici, quanto sulla opportunità di fare, nella scuola media,
un posto più o meno ampio alla storia della filosofia, e, specialmente, alla
sua parte informativa ed erudita. Questione di metodo, della quale adesso non
intendiamo occuparci. Ma l'accusa del pensiero moderno, o del sedicente
pensiero moderno, alla scolastica, di essere limitata ed oscurantista, può
facilmente essere ritorta. Si scandalizzano, i nostri avversari perché la
scolastica accusa di falsità la maggior parte dei sistemi che hanno avuto
fortuna nel mondo della cultura filosofica, e domandano indignati: l'umanità ha
dunque vissuto sempre nelle tenebre della barbarie? E come allora ha potuto
svolgersi e progredire fino a raggiungere una civiltà per tanti rispetti
superiore a quella dei tempi antichi? Dimenticano, costoro, nel far questa
domanda tendenziosa, di richiamare i reali rapporti che intercedono fra i
sistemi filosofici ora ricordati, e lo svolgersi dell'umanità e della civiltà,
poiché la filosofia è una scienza difficile e, come tale, aristocratica sì che
solo un piccolo gruppo di dotti, che in confronto dell'umanità è una trascurabile
minoranza, può in ogni tempo coltivarla e dedicarvisi. Quanti, fra i
contemporanei di Spinoza, di Rousseau, di Kant, o di Hegel, poterono
effettivamente leggere quei filosofi, formarsi un'adeguata idea del loro
sistema, e ad esso ispirare la propria vita? Quanti, oggi, nonostante
l'accresciuta cultura e la maggior facilità di studiare, possono far lo stesso
coi filosofi recentissimi? Il grosso pubblico dai sistemi filosofici prende,
per opera di compiacenti divulgatori, solo qualche idea così vaga e generale
che in tale vaghezza e generalità ogni carattere filosofico ha perduto, come
sarebbe l'idea che Dio non c'è e che l'uomo è tutto, o che la società è
organizzata male e bisogna rifarla, o che ciascuno è libero di seguire le
proprie passioni, ecc. Idee che l'umanità avrebbe certo trovato anche senza i
sistemi filosofici, tanto sono comode e larghe. Sì che si può dire, senza tema
d'errare, che le varie dottrine filosofiche, in quello che hanno di
specificatamente filosofico, passano senza toccare la vita dell'umanità nella
sua grandissima maggioranza, onde, nulla v’ha di impossibile a che l'umanità
progredisca e costruisca una civiltà anche se i sistemi filosofici dei suoi
dotti sono errati, potendo la verità farsi strada da sé ugualmente, benché in
forma imperfetta, per altre vie, nell’etica, nei costumi e nelle scienze
stesse. Ben più difficile e ben più intollerante è, invece, la posizione
degli avversari, quando, sforzati dalla logica, sono costretti a condannare non
solo la scolastica, ma, addirittura il cattolicesimo il quale non soltanto è un
sistema che vanta per sé il possesso esclusivo della verità, ma afferma questa
verità di averla ricevuta, per rivelazione, da Dio. E il cattolicesimo non è
una dottrina filosofica che vada solo per le mani di alcuni dotti, e la cui
verità o falsità non interessi la maggior parte del genere umano, ma è una
religione, attraverso l'insegnamento della Chiesa, chiaramente conosciuta,
seguita e praticata da milioni di uomini, i quali costituiscono certamente la
maggioranza del mondo civile; una religione che non ha mai cessato d'avere una
azione importantissima su tutti i prodotti dello spirito umano, sull'arte e
sulla filosofia non meno che sulla morale e sulla politica, sui costumi non
meno che sulle industrie e i commerci, sulle scienze non meno che
sull'economia. Il cristianesimo ha agito, perciò, anche sulla formazione del
mondo moderno e della civiltà moderna, infinitamente di più che le dottrine di
Kant, di Hegel, di Spencer, coi piccoli gruppetti di intellettuali che le hanno
conosciute e seguite. Se, dunque, esso è una dottrina falsa, fondata
sull'illusoria affermazione di un Dio trascendente, come si spiega la sua
vitalità, estensione e fecondità? come si spiega la civiltà moderna stessa che
in sì gran parte deriva da lui? È vero che gli avversari rispondono di non aver
affatto questa malvagia intenzione, ma di voler anzi, ammettere e spiegare il
cristianesimo e il cattolicesimo così come qualunque altra dottrina o sistema.
Ma è proprio qui il punto: ammettere il cristianesimo così come qualunque altro
sistema filosofico umano significa, in realtà, non ammettere affatto il
cristianesimo, bensì sostituirgli una deforme immagine di esso, che prescinde
precisamente da ciò che in esso è fondamentale: l'idea di una Rivelazione
divina effettuatasi in esso e realizzantesi nella Chiesa. Il cristianesimo che
si pensi solo come frutto della ragione umana e dei suoi sforzi filosofici, non
è più cristianesimo, esso è, al più, spiritualismo, che già sfuma nell'idealismo.
Non è dunque il cristianesimo ma l’idealismo che, pur con diverse parole, gli
avversari ammettono e giustificano. Ora, non è questo il cristianesimo vivo ed
operante come religione del mondo moderno, la quale tanto poco può allontanarsi
dall'idea d'essere una Rivelazione divina, che ove solo attenua e addomestica
un po', quell'idea, come ad esempio nel protestantesimo, sparisce come
religione cristiana per ridiventare simile a tutte le altre filosofie di
“cenacoli” intellettuali, quasi a darci una riprova della costituzionale
incapacità del pensiero che pur si dice moderno ad afferrare ed assimilarsi il
principio fondamentale del cristianesimo e del cattolicesimo. E dunque la
difficoltà resta, per gli avversari, in tutta la sua estensione. Se il cattolicesimo
è falso, come ha potuto crescere per opera sua quella civiltà che pur dite
buona e vera, anzi come può continuare ad esistere, dato che anche oggi, nella
società, il cattolicesimo ha un'estensione e un'importanza infinitamente
maggiore di qualunque sistema filosofico? Condannare il cattolicesimo significa
davvero ridurre tutta la storia a “storia d'errori”, ben più che non lo
fosse, o potesse parerlo, per la filosofia scolastica; significa spezzare in
due la grande tradizione cristiana della civiltà moderna; significa ammettere,
irragionevolmente, che prima di Kant o di Hegel tutti i filosofi
bamboleggiassero, e l'umanità giacesse nelle tenebre dell'errore; significa,
infine, negare o misconoscere i maggiori bisogni dell'umanità stessa, che ha sempre
cercato, prescindendo anche dal cristianesimo, di risolvere i suoi problemi,
piuttosto che colla filosofia, soggetta alle discussioni e agli errori di pochi
dotti, colle religioni, che tutte si presentano come rivelate da Dio, qualunque
poi sia il modo col quale concepiscono tale rivelazione. Giacché la
differenza fra il pensiero della scolastica e il pensiero di quella filosofia
che s'arroga il titolo di “moderna” è, si potrebbe dire, tutta qui:
nell'ammettere questa e nel non ammettere quella, la possibilità di una
religione; nell'ammettere questa e nel non ammettere quella, l'esistenza di un
Dio trascendente, e il fatto della sua rivelazione. Spregiudicata e larga come
pare a prima vista, la filosofia moderna parte, in realtà, da una esclusione e
da una limitazione aprioristica quanto mai settaria e piccina. Tutte le audacie
e le libertà sono consentite al pensiero: purché, però, esso non si provi mai
ad affermare l'esistenza di Dio e la possibilità della rivelazione: questo è
severamente proibito. E non ci si accorge che, con tale gretta esclusione la
filosofia ha rinunciato, in sostanza, alla propria, tanto vantata, libertà di
critica, e si è rinchiusa entro un circolo ove non è più possibile alcun reale
progresso e sviluppo del pensiero. Lo hanno osservato anche filosofi non
sospetti davvero di eccessiva simpatia per la scolastica, che il pensiero umano
ha in sé una brama irresistibile di infinito che domanda, come suo adeguato
oggetto, un Oggetto parimente infinito ed assoluto: Dio. La filosofia moderna
gli toglie questo oggetto, e poiché, tolto l'oggetto, la brama dell'Infinito
resta egualmente, ad esso sostituisce una falsa immagine, il mutamento
indefinito del pensiero medesimo, nella sua irrequietezza e insoddisfazione; e
chiama Dio lo sviluppo storico e il divenire di questa insoddisfazione stessa.
Senza por mente che l'Assoluto non può consistere in una negazione o in una
privazione, e che il semplice mutamento non è progresso o sviluppo. In tal modo
il pensiero umano, lungi dal progredire, resta perennemente immobile, nella sua
scontentezza, volubilità e insoddisfazione che è sempre identica; un apparente
progredire che è, in effetti, un ritornare sempre sulle stesse posizioni, come
la storia di certa filosofia malinconicamente c'insegna. Mentre, al contrario,
la scolastica, concludendo col riconoscere, sopra di sé, un Dio e una
Rivelazione apre all'anima umana i vasti domini di una realtà inesaurita e
inesauribile, ove il pensiero può innalzarsi infinitamente su se stesso, senza
mai trovare, per quanto si sprofondi negli abissi della essenza e delle
operazioni divine, niente altro che nuovi, sconfinati orizzonti, e nuovi
stimoli ad elevarsi e progredire: «Estote ergo vos perfecti sicut et pater
vester coelestis perfectus est »: ecco l'unico programma - il programma della
santità cristiana - che consente anche al pensiero filosofico uno sviluppo e un
progresso infinito. Nonostante ogni dichiarazione in contrario, la
filosofia moderna non è affatto disposta ad aprire la scuola a tutte le più
diverse e disparate dottrine. Che, anzi, essa persegue tenacemente la
realizzazione di un suo ideale, e si propone - né potrebbe non proporsi - di
conquistare la scuola alla sua propria fede. Fede intimamente scettica, come
abbiamo visto, ma più intollerante ed esclusiva delle altre, perché non sa di
essere una fede e una dottrina anch'essa, e con tanta maggiore ostilità, è
disposta a perseguitare le altre dottrine quanto più si crede, ingenuamente,
essa solo rappresentante autorizzata della verità e della filosofia. Fede,
perciò, oppressiva e soffocante, affatto inconciliabile colla sana libertà
della ricerca scientifica, e addirittura contraria ad ogni effettivo progresso
e svolgimento dell'anima umana, nella sua educazione e nella scuola. Poiché
l'anima del giovane e del fanciullo, ha, se così si potesse dire, più ancora
che non l'anima dell'adulto, bisogno dell'Infinito, e la scuola che non può
darle Dio, non può darle che vani trastulli e giocattoli intellettuali,
destinati ad essere infranti subito dopo che una curiosità irrequieta ne ha
scoperto il meccanismo. Pedagogia cattolica Credo che a parlare di
un'opera come questa Rinnovamento dell'Educazione (“Vita e Pensiero”, Milano
1921) di Filippo Crispolti, possa valere quale sufficiente giustificazione non
soltanto la ben intesa libertà che va tenuta nell'occuparsi dei libri recenti,
bensì anche un fatto di più immediato interesse. E, cioè, che le lettere
pedagogiche del Crispolti non hanno finora avuto, nonostante i loro innegabili
pregi, il bene d'una discussione, d'una recensione o d'un cenno fra coloro che
pur si occupano o dovrebbero occuparsi di problemi educativi. Strani effetti
della modestia! Il Crispolti onestamente dichiara nella prefazione di non
essere pedagogista e nemmeno professore; anzi, di non avere in vita sua
addirittura frequentato mai alcuna scuola fuori dell' Università; rassomiglia
il proprio stupore, nell'aver appreso da altri che certi suoi concetti erano
pedagogia, a quello del bourgeois-gentilhomme quando lo persuasero che, senza
saperlo, aveva fatto della prosa e non invoca per sé altro diritto che
l'esperienza della vita. Probabilmente, i pedagogisti di professione hanno
preso queste dichiarazioni alla lettera e hanno creduto, quindi di poter
condannare il libro del Crispolti alla congiura del silenzio! Noi, per
conto nostro, diciamo subito di non credere a quelle dichiarazioni: o, meglio,
di credervi quanto basta per annettere all'opera del Crispolti un pregio anche
maggiore. L'esperienza in materia educativa è certo - chi lo nega?- una bellissima
e necessaria cosa; ma quando è vera esperienza, non filtrata attraverso gli
schemi di un miope professionalismo, quale purtroppo affligge in educazione
assai spesso la gente del mestiere, proclive molto spesso a dimenticare che, se
l'opera educativa si celebra e acquista esplicita consapevolezza di sé nella
scuola, essa presuppone poi tutte le manifestazioni della vita spirituale nel
più largo senso intesa, talché l'esperienza scolastica val meno che nulla
quando non sia sorretta da una intensa partecipazione alla vita dello spirito
in tutte le sue molteplici forme, dalla quotidiana prassi familiare e sociale
alla politica, alla scienza, all'arte, alla religione. Onde accade talvolta che
uomini come il Crispolti, ammaestrati appunto da questa intensa partecipazione
alla vita, riescano a ricostruire idealmente anche l’esperienza scolastica che
loro manca e finiscano col portare nel campo educativo un occhio tanto più
acuto e spregiudicato quanto meno è irretito dai pregiudizi professionali e
quanto meno si preoccupa di abbracciare tutto un “sistema” pedagogico, per
trascorrere, invece, con piena libertà, su quanto un sano senso critico
spontaneamente gli scopre. Se così non fosse, l'agricoltore Pestalozzi o il
mineralogista Froebel sarebbero riusciti inferiori, non pure al filosofo e
pedagogista accademico Herbart, bensì anche ad un qualsiasi mediocre
cattedratico autore di manuali pedagogici. Il segreto di quei grandi educatori
sta precisamente nella loro “irregolarità”, nel loro irrequieto vagare più o
meno attraverso tutti i campi della vita, prima di fermarsi nell'educazione,
alla quale portarono così il possente lievito d'una personalità
vivissima, aperta a tutte le voci dello spirito, sensibile a tutti i
problemi, pronta a soddisfare tutte le esigenze che maturavano nei nuovi
tempi. Tanto basta, e ne avanza, a giustificare il Crispolti di aver
raccolto in una serie di lettere le sue dottrine sull'educazione. Il Crispolti
è, del resto, figura così nota, e nel campo cattolico e nel campo degli studiosi,
da non aver certo bisogno d'una presentazione. Ed era quasi, direi, in tono col
suo cattolicesimo, il quale è manzoniano nel miglior senso della parola,
ch'egli dovesse dar questo segno tangibile d'interesse per le questioni
educative, ove si pensi che quel sano lievito di modernità ond'è reso così
giovane il cattolicesimo manzoniano, risulta proprio dall'aver il Manzoni
intensamente vissuto il cattolicesimo stesso, affiatandolo con tutti i problemi
della vita e della storia, quali il secolo XIX li impose alla coscienza
europea, in una forma in cui il problema morale e il problema - in lato senso -
pedagogico tendevano sempre più a penetrare di sé la letteratura. Salutiamo
dunque, anzitutto, la bandiera sotto la quale il Crispolti entra nel nuovo agone.
Del Manzoni pensatore fu detto che egli, pur riuscendo spesso ragionatore
vigoroso, non arriva ad esser compiuto filosofo per una certa sua incapacità a
mettere in questione i “primi principi” e per una certa sua continua tendenza a
presupporre dimostrata la dottrina religiosa, anche se al fine di far vedere
come partendo da essa diventino volta a volta chiare le singole questioni prese
in esame. Il che è inesatto certo, se con ciò s'intende negare ogni valore di
filosofo a chi proceda con siffatto metodo largamente deduttivo (quale
dimostrazione più soddisfacente d'una dottrina che lo spiegare in base ad essa
i singoli concreti problemi della storia e della filosofia?) ma è esattissimo
come caratteristica del procedimento prediletto in siffatte materie dal Manzoni
e - cosa che qui c'importa soprattutto - anche dal Crispolti. Le sue lettere
pedagogiche s'ispirano infatti, come egli stesso ci dice, al “programma di far
toccare con mano in quale amplissima misura il Cristianesimo debba contribuire
alla formazione dell'intero carattere morale e a certe necessità dello sviluppo
intellettuale dell'uomo”(p. 205), ma non s'ingegnano prima di dimostrarci
perché sia un bene morale e una necessità di ragione che il cristianesimo debba
avere un siffatto influsso, o perché non si possa concepire, poniamo, una
educazione che dal cristianesimo prescinda interamente o al massimo ne tenga
conto solo come uno fra altri fattori, uno fra gli altri prodotti dello spirito
umano, alla stessa stregua, p. es., dell'arte, della scienza, della filosofia,
delle antichità classiche e via discorrendo. Non siamo, insomma, neanche qui
nella sfera dei “primi principi”, delle grandi affermazioni e negazioni: il
Crispolti, benché uomo di vasta cultura e non solamente letteraria, non ha affrontato
in pieno la tormenta del pensiero filosofico moderno nel suo duplice aspetto
immanentistico dell'idealismo e del positivismo. La religione non è quindi per
lui qualcosa che abbia bisogno anzitutto d'essere instaurata contro e insieme
nella scienza moderna: è, piuttosto, un possesso sicuro da far fruttificare.
Onde, il tono fondamentale di tutta la sua indagine, che è rivolta a quelli di
casa prima che quelli di fuori, ai cattolici prima che ai “laici”, filosofi o
pedagogisti, anche se, nello stesso tempo, tiene l'occhio vigile su tutto il
mondo circostante della cultura e della vita. Si direbbe anzi, più
precisamente, che il Crispolti avesse voluto con queste sue lettere parlare a
quelli che trascorrono nell'altro estremo, soffrendo d'una malattia opposta al
filosofismo laico, a quei cattolici cioè che, per eccessiva sollecitudine di
mantener la loro fede, in tutta la sua purezza, salva dalle concessioni
snaturatrici alla mondanità, non annettono, nel campo educativo, grande
importanza a tutto il complesso delle doti spirituali che, pur non
interessando apparentemente la religione, fanno dell'uomo un uomo colto o
rispettabile nel significato mondano della parola, poniamo al coraggio, al
senso della responsabilità sociale, alla cultura dell'intelletto. Frutto di
siffatta timidezza che, per timore di mal fare si appaga del non fare, è,
secondo il Crispolti, un doloroso divorzio fra l'educazione dell'uomo e la
religione, di cui non pur l'uomo ma la religione stessa finisce, in ultima
analisi, con l'essere vittima nella comune estimazione dei buoni. Ecco degli
esempi: quando noi vedremo il probo commerciante tener fede alla sua firma, il
coraggioso nuotatore salvare uno che annegava, la brava popolazione d'un
villaggio distrutto dall'incendio accingersi con virile rassegnazione a
ricostruirlo da sé, noi applaudiremo tutti costoro in quanto coraggiosi, probi,
o virilmente rassegnati in faccia alla sventura: non ci verrà mai fatto di
applaudirli in quanto cristiani, di attribuire, cioè, lo splendore di queste
loro qualità ad una educazione religiosa e, più specificamente, cristiana o
cattolica. Altrettanto avviene nella coscienza del cattolico stesso, il quale,
pur apprezzando certo in cuor suo quegli atti e quelle doti, non osa farne una
conseguenza imprescindibilmente necessaria della propria fede religiosa, ma è
disposto con facilità ad ammettere che si possa restar buoni cattolici anche
senza lavorare a svilupparle eminentemente in sé, specie poi quando si tratta
di doti che, come il coraggio, possono, se coltivate oltre un certo punto,
condurre facilmente alla trasgressione di precetti eticoreligiosi cristiani, ad
esempio di quelli contro la violenza. Effetto del timore che le virtù umane
troppo curate dall'educazione possano ritorcersi contro la fede religiosa o
quanto meno finir col reclamare per sé un'assoluta autonomia, non può non
essere, a lungo andare, proprio lo stesso male che voleva evitarsi. Giacché
così si crea in tutti la persuasione che l'educazione, intesa come sviluppo
delle fondamentali attitudini dell'uomo al vivere e al pensare, trovi nel
cristianesimo, anziché un aiuto, un ostacolo o, nella migliore ipotesi, né
l'uno né l'altro; ch’è quanto dire, pedagogicamente, nulla. Onde si ritorna,
dopo un non lungo giro, se non all'irreligione, almeno al neutralismo e al
laicismo educativo. Contro i quali al Crispolti sembra aperta come unica via
quella che «l'educazione cristiana sia resa così piena, da non esserci nessuna
abitudine o inclinazione deplorevole che non debba venir combattuta a titolo religioso;
nessuna abitudine o inclinazione lodevole a cui la religione non dia cagione e
valore» (p. 14). Ora, in qual modo realizzare siffatto programma? Il
Crispolti, sulle orme del Manzoni e delle Osservazioni sulla morale cattolica
rammenta che il Vangelo contiene qualsiasi ideale di perfezione umana e che i
sentimenti naturali retti non possono mai essere in contraddizione colla legge
di Dio, e tanto gli basta per dimostrare come la religione cattolica abbia
l'attitudine a informare di sé qualsiasi magari raffinatissimo ed esigentissimo
sistema educativo. Che fu, in sostanza, la grande preoccupazione del
romanticismo neocattolico successo all'illuminismo rivoluzionario, da
Chateaubriand in poi il cui famosissimo libro vuol essere appunto una
descrizione di tutti i vantaggi arrecati in ogni suo campo d'attività allo
spirito umano dalla religione cattolica. Ma il Crispolti ha anche una
preoccupazione nuova che certo, direttamente o indirettamente, consapevolmente
o inconsapevolmente, dev'essergli derivata dall'influsso dell'etica moderna in
uno dei suoi fondamentali problemi. “Politica della virtù”, definì or non è
molto il Croce il concetto sostituito dalla più recente speculazione al vecchio
rigorismo kantiano; “politica”, ossia non impossibile sterminio di tutte le
umane passioni e tendenze sulle cui rovine si erga la legge morale, ma
loro sapiente organizzazione a beneficio della moralità stessa. Sarebbe troppo
domandare a un cattolico, per cui la legge morale deve sempre rimanere, in
ultima analisi, trascendente, né può comunque risolversi nella sintesi delle
passioni, il chiedergli di condividere senz'altro questo concetto. Dal punto di
vista cattolico vi ha sempre una soluzione superiore del problema, la santità
che non ha bisogno d'una politica della virtù poiché «non raggiunge le virtù e
la conseguente eliminazione di ciò che loro contrasta, correndo loro dietro una
per una e poi tenendole tra loro serrate con un'agitazione scrupolosa e a
fatica, ma le coglie tutte insieme, per un ardore che tutte le supera e le
fonde» (p. 16). La carità, l'amore di Dio possono, nelle anime educate alla santità
ed elaborate dalla grazia divina stessa, essere motivo sufficiente dell'azione
virtuosa senza che per ciò si richieda il sussidio di speciali abilità o l'esca
di determinate passioni e sentimenti umani. Ma, giustamente ammonisce il
Crispolti, la santità eminente non è da tutti. «Molti educatori sentono, sia
pure talvolta in confuso, questa complicazione dell'economia della vita
cristiana; sanno che l'ardente carità, dalla quale può venirle la maggiore
semplificazione pratica, non è dato ad essi d'infonderla negli alunni, poiché è
un raro e diretto dono di Dio alle creature chiamate a santità e allora, senza
che formulino a sé e agli altri il proprio timore, temono che il voler trarre
dal cristianesimo anche l'addestramento alle qualità naturali, belle per sé ma
che non sono ancora virtù, come il coraggio, l'amabilità nel convivere, la
coltura della mente, e via discorrendo, accresca la difficoltà dell'educazione
cristiana, costringendo gli animi ad accogliere tante più cose, quindi a
tenerle insieme in un equilibrio sempre minore, e a rischio di più frequenti
discordanze» (p. 19). Timore, secondo il Nostro, ingiustificato e pericoloso,
poiché in quanto quella carità vittoriosa venga a mancare - e impossibile è
all'educatore garantire ch'egli saprà infonderla puntualmente nell'educando -
verranno d'un subito a mancare anche tutti gli altri motivi (che non si sono
coltivati in lui) d'ordine umano coi quali di solito gli uomini si garantiscono
pur imperfettamente dal male. «Eppure ogni metodo di educazione è condannato a
prefiggersi di far buoni i mediocri, poiché i sommi oltrepassano per lo più le
sue speranze e i suoi poteri» (ibid.) e questi mediocri sono la gran
maggioranza degli uomini non chiamati a santità, ma non per questo da
abbandonarsi senza difesa ai disordinati impulsi animali. Prendiamo, secondo
l'esempio caro al Crispolti, una figura manzoniana, quella di Don Abbondio, che
per viltà d'animo si lascia trarre dalle minacce di Don Rodrigo a obliare uno
dei più essenziali doveri del sacerdozio. Eccoci nel caso di un uomo al quale
manca quella ardente carità che dovrebbe rendergli facile l'adempimento di
qualsiasi dovere, ma al quale, di più, mancano gli stimoli umani con cui il
“laico” si garantisce dalla paura; manca, cioè, un'adeguata educazione del
coraggio materiale. Poniamo «che Don Abbondio fosse stato un ragazzo e che i
maestri, prevedendo che potesse diventar parroco in tempi in cui il dovere
parrocchiale era esposto a minacce di prepotenti, gli avessero voluto insegnare
l'arte di non farsi vincere da quelle minacce»: che cosa avrebbero dovuto fare?
Sanamente diffidando della possibilità d'infondergli il calore dell'amor
divino, avrebbero dovuto coltivare in lui «una qualità terrena che poteva in
certo grado servire all’uopo e che colla persuasione, cogli esercizi
convenienti, e occorrendo con l'arma del ridicolo, si riesce ben più facilmente
a metter negli animi adolescenti la qualità del non aver paura». E allora Don
Abbondio, sia pur per motivi umani, e senza il merito di quei più alti motivi
che il cardinale Federigo gli ricordava, non avrebbe piegato innanzi alle
minacce di Don Rodrigo, e non avrebbe gravato la propria coscienza
dell'oblio di un dovere così importante per un sacerdote, come quello di
esercitare fino in fondo le sue funzioni parrocchiali, nonostante tutti gli
ostacoli che potessero da altri venir frapposti. Ed ecco rinascere entro
l'educazione cristiana stessa la necessità d'una «politica della virtù». Poiché
il Crispolti rammenta certo che «sta scritto: non tentare il Signore Iddio tuo»
e che, confidare in un dono direttamente divino per dirigersi nelle difficili
vie della virtù, sarebbe pretendere troppo da Dio, onde la illuminata pietà e
la saggezza pedagogica non possono su questo punto non andare d'accordo colla
ben intesa umiltà cristiana nell'accumulare il maggior numero possibile di
difese contro le suggestioni al male. Al chierico non meno che al laico,
l'educatore dovrà dire: “Se l'occasione se ne presenti, voi dovete già esser
preparati perché non vi trattengano né i disagi né i rischi. La strada regale
di questa preparazione sarebbe quella di sentire il valore degli atti meritori,
con tanto ardore da sormontare in grazia sua qualunque ostacolo anche
improvviso. Ma v'è una strada più modesta, e che ad ogni modo deve esser
battuta anche perché a mani educatrici riesce più sicuramente il condurvi in
questa che in quella: e consiste nel rendervi familiare la lotta contro quei
rischi e quei disagi, seppure lì per lì essa non mostri di servire a nulla” (p.
49-50). La «strada più modesta» è appunto la politica della virtù, sebbene
concepita in un senso diverso da quello consentito nell'economia d'un'etica
immanentistica come quella del Croce. Poiché qui è successa una inversione per
cui ciò che là era fine morale, è diventato mezzo pedagogico nella nuova
gradazione di valori richiesta dall'etica religiosa. Per la quale, le virtù nel
significato umano della parola, comprendendo fra di esse non pur quelle che
sorgono sul vero e proprio terreno praticomorale, come il coraggio o l'abnegazione
od altro, ma altresì quelle che sono immanenti in qualsiasi altra funzione
dello spirito, come poniamo la genialità estetica o il vigore speculativo,
debbono necessariamente avere alcunché di imperfetto, frutto appunto del loro
carattere umano: allegarsi, cioè, con una certa dose di orgoglio, compiacenza
di sé, soddisfazione, che le rende tutte «più o meno passionali» perché
presentano all'uomo, qualunque sia la somma d'ostacoli ch'esse offrono, il loro
esercizio sempre come un allargamento e una esaltazione del proprio io. Di
contro ad esse sta la vera, perfetta, suprema virtù: la santità, l'unica che
non si fondi per sussistere sopra siffatto stimolo, ma sopra una diretta
ispirazione di Dio. Talché, appellarsi alle une per rendere possibile o, comunque,
preparare, facilitare, supplire l'altra, significa da un punto di vista
religioso ricorrere già ad una «politica della virtù»: non perché si sia
facilitata la virtù ricorrendo alla dialettica delle passioni come nell'etica
immanentistica, ma perché, esorbitando la virtù «pura» dai mezzi di educazione
umana, si è ricorso per garantire l'uomo dal male ad un sistema di virtù
«umane» e perciò già in sé stesse «passionali». Conclusione di tutto ciò
è dunque per il Crispolti che l'educazione cristiana, ben lungi dal
disinteressarsi delle doti umane, deve e può servirsene come di mezzi atti a
facilitare potentemente quell'economia delle virtù che solo anime
eccezionalmente ispirate da Dio possono raggiungere d'uno slancio. Deve, cioè,
in ultima analisi, prendere anch'essa in considerazione il curriculum della
consueta pedagogia, evitando due errori egualmente pericolosi come la
dissociazione delle attività umane dal fine religioso e, insieme, la incauta
persuasione che l'uomo pio sol perché pio riesca eccellente in tutti i campi
del pensiero e della vita. Incominciamo dall'educazione fisica, di cui il
Nostro si occupa nella lettera su l'educazione cristiana del coraggio materiale
per riprendere acutamente, dal proprio punto di vista, quel concetto della pedagogia
moderna secondo cui il rinvigorimento del corpo non è già la formazione
del «robusto ed agile animale», bensì quella del robusto ed agile uomo, che ha
l'obbligo di preparare il proprio organismo fisico a tutti gli sforzi necessari
all'adempimento dei propri doveri di essere spirituale. Al qual proposito bene
osserva il Crispolti, parlando delle società cattoliche di educazione fisica,
il loro carattere religioso dover consistere, non tanto nel titolo di
cattoliche o nel compimento, in esse, di funzioni sacre, quanto nel tener
sempre presente alle menti giovanili «lo scopo di far servire le membra
fortificate all'adempimento degli obblighi virtuosi e di ciò che nella virtù
sopravanza l'obbligo... cosicché imparassero con precisione a tenere dentro i giusti
limiti la loro progressiva vigoria» (p. 48). E quindi ai troppo facili
satireggiatori della «ginnastica cattolica», il Nostro può con ragione
rispondere che, oltre a una ginnastica, ben vi può essere anche una «cucina»
cattolica, da quando in alcuni giorni della settimana si preparano nelle case
dei cristiani i cibi di magro. E se la Chiesa non sdegnò di porre il suggello
religioso su un'operazione umile come il mangiare, perché la pedagogia
cristiana sdegnerà di porre la stessa impronta su qualsiasi attività umana?
«Non si andrà incontro così ad un pericolo nuovo, che, sviluppando per mezzo
della stessa educazione religiosa il pieno valore della persona umana, questa
diventi superba?» (p. 72). No certo, se teniamo presente che la pedagogia
cristiana ha in mano il più potente dei mezzi, per combattere quella superbia
ingiustificata, nella cultura dell'opposto sentimento dell'umiltà; cultura che
e insieme, ancora, un dovere religioso ed un ottimo espediente pedagogico.
L'opinione che ai giorni nostri si ha dell'umiltà cristiana, ben osserva il
Crispolti, è spesso quella ch'essa consista soltanto nell'«ansia costante e
smaniosa di stornar gli occhi dal proprio io, per il pericolo di potervi
scoprire dei pregi e provarne compiacenza» (p. 74). È un concetto negativo
dell'umiltà ben diverso da quel concetto positivo che si ritrova nella
tradizione cristiana e medioevale (si ricordi il titolo di donna umile dato a
Beatrice), secondo cui invece «l'umiltà è concepita in forma positiva, come un
avanzare non come un fuggire, come una confidenza, non come un viluppo di
precauzioni » (p. 74) e consiste nel dimenticarsi di sé stesso a tal punto da
non aver tempo di starsi a considerare, ma insieme nel sapere che il proprio
valore e la propria bellezza accrescono il pregio dell'offerta di sé fatta a
Dio. Sentimento che, fatta la solita riserva dell'ardente amor divino il quale
assorbe d'un subito in sé la creatura e le rende disgustoso ogni amor proprio,
si può raggiungere pedagogicamente in grado meno splendido «col solo riverire
la verità, quella verità che ci fa conoscere il nostro nulla verso Iddio e la
difficoltà di misurare sia il valore vero dei fratelli, sia la fragilità di
qualsiasi maggior pregio che ci elevi sopra di essi» (p. 77). Ogni cosa nel
mondo dello spirito è frutto di umiltà, le grandi opere «sorsero sempre in
un'ora di umiltà, ossia d'abbandono, di dimenticanza di noi, verso qualche cosa
che era fuori di noi. Non sarà stata sempre umiltà verso Iddio; sarà stata
umiltà verso la scienza, l'arte, la patria, l'umanità o che so io» (p. 81). La
filosofia qui rincalza la religione, nessun filosofo potrebbe rifiutare di
sottoscrivere queste parole. Il concetto pagano della immortalità come gloria è
tramontato irrevocabilmente appunto dopo il sorgere del concetto cristiano
della umiltà. Questa introduzione dell'umiltà come principio fondamentale
nel sistema della pedagogia cristiana, porta alla benefica conseguenza cui già
abbiamo accennato, che, cioè, l'educatore religioso non meno del laico acquista
il dovere di preoccuparsi della formazione della attività umana in base alle
sue immanenti leggi, senza presumere che la fede religiosa basti per se stessa
a rendere automaticamente l'uomo eccellente in tutti i campi della
scienza, dell'arte, della vita. Prendiamo ad esempio un altro punto del
curriculum pedagogico: la cultura intellettuale. Ecco un caso in cui l'umiltà
cristiana sanamente intesa consiglia l'uomo a irrobustire il proprio intelletto
e a renderlo erudito e agguerrito in ogni sorta di discipline, perché che razza
di fede, sarebbe quella che non comandasse alla creatura di offrire a Dio le
primizie della sua intelligenza e, nello stesso tempo, di rendere questa
offerta sempre maggiore con l'accrescere, mediante lo studio, il valore della
propria intelligenza stessa? La fede del carbonaio è bellissima, ma nel
carbonaio. Il dotto ha altri e più complessi doveri verso Dio: e l'uomo in
genere, pur non mancando di rispetto verso il carbonaio, ha anche l'altro
dovere, implicito della sua natura di essere pensante e razionale, di
avvicinarsi quanto più può alla condizione del dotto e non a quella del
carbonaio. Non fa nulla che ci fossero dei santi poco dotti e delle cose di Dio
e delle discipline umane; al solito, noi non possiamo «tentare Iddio»
pretendendo ch'egli estenda a tutti quel dono della sua diretta ispirazione che
solo in casi eccezionali sopperì, unico, a tutte le umane deficienze. Talché,
tratte le somme, il cattolico non solo ha, come il laico, il dovere di
addottrinare l'intelletto nelle discipline umane, bensì, in più, il dovere di
rivolgere la sua mente allo studio delle cose divine, e di fornirsi d'una
cultura religiosa quanto più estesa può. D'altra parte, osserva col consueto
acume il Crispolti, la cultura può anch'essa recare in più modi soccorsi umani
alla fede, fra l'altro, associando ad essa le compiacenze della vita
intellettuale. «Le quali sono grandissime; innalzano la natura umana, seppure
non valgono a salvarla da tutto il male, come si credeva nei tempi recenti in
cui fu di moda la formula stolta e subito smentita dai fatti "ogni scuola
che si apre è un carcere che si chiude "; ci salvano... dai gusti
bassamente viziosi; moltiplicano i nostri rapporti con le cose, ossia il nostro
senso del vivere; procurano all'uomo una esplicazione dell'attività ed un
interessamento che unico dura oltre la giovinezza e la maturità degli anni »
(p. 137). Ch'è, in fondo, lo stesso principio della cultura come disciplina
dello spirito su cui si fonda la pedagogia moderna, ma opportunamente ristretto
con una osservazione che meriterebbe d'esser discussa da vicino in sede
pedagogica. Il sapere è certo un potentissimo esercizio di superamento dei
propri impulsi particolari a beneficio d'una legge superiore, ma può esso
bastare da solo alla formazione del carattere morale? Il cattolicesimo e la
Chiesa hanno da molto tempo risposto di no, e hanno disposto tutto un sistema
di pratiche dirette precisamente alla disciplina della volontà, per esempio gli
esercizi spirituali di Sant'Ignazio. In ogni modo, chiudendo questa breve
parentesi, il Crispolti ha in materia di cultura religiosa le stesse idee dei
grandi pedagogisti che, cattolici o no, si travagliarono su questo problema, ad
esempio, di Froebel o della Necker de Saussure. Qualunque sia l'importanza
d'una elaborazione dottrinale, filosofica della religione, che insegni all'uomo
a credere «secondo spirito e verità» è certo ch'essa va preceduta dalla
conoscenza immediata della religione stessa in tutto il suo complesso di riti,
culti, precetti e loro applicazioni; così come lo studio della filologia non
può nascere se non dalla diretta conoscenza e dall'uso delle lingue. La
religione deve, per usare un'espressione cara a quei grandi pedagogisti,
crescere con l'uomo stesso: essere sentimento, pratica, culto, prima che
filosofia o teologia. Argomento sempre importante per quanti, come noi,
vogliono nella scuola un insegnamento religioso vero e proprio che cominci col
catechismo e credono un assurdo sogno illuministico quello di assicurare
l'educazione religiosa a una vaga religiosità circolante un pò dappertutto
nella vita spirituale. Qualcosa di simile al già detto per la cultura
intellettuale, ripetasi per la cultura estetica ove il principio dell'umiltà
riceve un'altra importante applicazione pedagogica nella lettera su i pericoli
della letteratura apologetica nuova. Ove il Crispolti ha avuto sott'occhio i
gravi pericoli cui può andare incontro oggi una letteratura o una poesia che
dal cattolicesimo voglia trarre, insieme ai propri motivi d'ispirazione, anche
una presunzione della propria superiorità su l'altra letteratura o poesia non
cattolica. Qual è, insomma, la ragione per cui il cattolicesimo non ha, oggi,
poeti suoi da contrapporre, poniamo, a un D'Annunzio o ad un Pascoli? La
ragione è sempre la stessa: pretendono gli artisti cattolici «di poter ricevere
o tradurre nelle opere le ispirazioni artistiche (della fede), senza nessuno
sforzo da parte loro». Tutta la fatica, secondo loro, dovrebbe farla Iddio.
Pretendono quindi che ogni opera di soggetto religioso, purché lastricata di
buone intenzioni, ottenga il favore della critica a preferenza di opere anche
elaboratissime di autori profani od avversi. Quando poi debbono essi stessi
confessare che i Canti di Leopardi così lontani dal Cristianesimo, valgono più dei
canti loro, non sanno come raccapezzarsi; quasi sembra loro che la fede abbia
fatto torto a se stessa. Non si rassegnano a riconoscere di non aver fatto
verso la fede tutti gli sforzi di dottrina e di meditazione, necessari a
rendersi i degni interpreti di lei. Non si piegano a confessare che non è colpa
della luce ma della deficienza o pigrizia loro, se anche questa volta «i figli
delle tenebre» sono stati più prudenti dei figli della luce (p. 163). Ciò è
quanto dire che, dal punto di vista pedagogico, anche l'attività estetica ha
bisogno d'un apposito tirocinio dal quale nessuna fede religiosa può
dispensarci. Ma la seconda applicazione dello stesso principio che nel campo
estetico fa il Crispolti, viene esplicitamente incontro a quanto il pensiero
moderno in sede filosofica e pedagogica ha via via elaborato in materia: ove si
pensi che la degenerazione dell'arte in vuota “letteratura” e il conseguente
ridurre la cultura estetica a una artificiosa ricerca di parole e di frasi atte
a far colpo sul lettore o di esempi di “bello scrivere” contro cui la critica
moderna ha tanto combattuto, è sempre frutto, secondo il Crispolti d'un difetto
opposto all'umiltà cristiana: della vanità che ai pensieri veri e alle
convinzioni sincere, preferisce i pensieri nuovi o i sentimenti mirabolanti.
Umili perché casti «parchi e lontani da tutti quegli artifici che, piacendo ad
un gusto passeggero, fanno così facilmente il nido alla vanità» gli scrittori
classici: umili tutti coloro che non pensarono a scriver bene, ma «presi da
alti pensieri, da alti affari o da alti scopi morali, ossia tanto assorbiti
dalla gravità del proprio tema che la parola si facesse umile innanzi a quello»
(p. 158) riuscirono, perciò solo, necessariamente grandi scrittori. E
inversamente, grandi scrittori sono non soltanto quelli che fecero professione
di letterati, bensì «uomini in qualunque campo grandi, cioè tali, che a qualche
cosa di superiore la loro parola abbia dovuto umilmente ubbidire» (ibid.):
talché, per esempio, i Francesi bene hanno fatto a far rientrare fra i classici
della loro letteratura anche San Francesco di Sales e Napoleone. Una siffatta
riforma della storia letteraria sulle basi dell'estetica moderna quale si è
affermata dal Croce in poi avrebbe in più per il Crispolti questo di interessante
nel senso cattolico: che giustificherebbe l'introduzione dei grandi santi a
maestri d'espressione letteraria oltrechè di vita. Ma sopratutto
interessante in queste osservazioni che il Crispolti viene con tanta finezza
facendo intorno a questioni educative, si è ch'egli molto spesso arriva a
toccare sul viso i più importanti problemi dibattuti dal pensiero pedagogico e
filosofico moderno, pur senza avere di questo pensiero una conoscenza diretta
ed approfondita (come si vede ad esempio dalla lettera su Le precauzioni
intellettuali contro gli errori religiosi, in cui nel parlare delle
ragioni scientifiche di dubbi intorno alla religione, ricorda il positivismo e
lo scientismo, ma non fa cenno dell'idealismo immanentistico postkantiano). Ciò
riesce una ottima conferma della bontà di quel procedimento se anche qua e là
porta l'autore a qualche inevitabile incertezza. Diamone degli esempi,
scegliendo tra i numerosi argomenti trattati in queste lettere pedagogiche.
Nella lettera quinta, toccando dei rapporti fra la pedagogia e la morale, il
Crispolti afferma che la certezza di quest'ultima la quale determina il fine
della vita non può estendersi alla prima, la quale invece determina i mezzi per
attuare il fine stesso e va perciò soggetta a un'inevitabile incertezza data
dalla infinita varietà dei temperamenti, delle attitudini, delle situazioni
spirituali cui quei mezzi debbono applicarsi. Sta bene. In linguaggio più
propriamente filosofico si direbbe che la pedagogia è sempre sospesa a una
concezione totale della realtà, in base a cui viene determinato quello che il
nostro chiama appunto «il fine». Ma ciò non implica soltanto superiorità
gerarchica dell'etica o di qualsiasi altra scienza sulla pedagogia. Poiché il
legame è reciproco, e se la pedagogia ha da fare i conti con l'etica e con
tutto il sistema delle scienze dello spirito, viceversa anche l'etica e la
filosofia tutta hanno da fare i conti colla pedagogia, hanno da preoccuparsi,
cioè, che il loro concetto della realtà sia tale da rendere possibile la
educazione. Ne fa fede il Crispolti stesso, il quale non potrebbe mai
accettare, poniamo, un concetto giansenistico o falsamente predestinazionista
del cristianesimo, fra altre ragioni perché lo sguardo da lui dato ai problemi
pedagogici gliene chiarirebbe l'assurdità, e infatti da quel punto di vista non
è concesso, se non per una felice incoerenza, parlare di educazione. È questo
proprio il caso in cui una diretta conoscenza delle questioni recentemente
dibattute nel campo filosofico sui rapporti della pedagogia colle scienze
filosofiche, avrebbe giovato al Nostro. Parimente altrove, nella lettera
tredicesima ove, a ragione, combattendo la falsificazione delle idee intorno al
fanciullo che una grossolana psicologia ha introdotto nei metodi educativi moderni,
egli pone la mano su una questione importantissima, e vi sorvola su senza
approfondirla. Si deve sfruttare la capacità intuitiva e immaginativa del
fanciullo per introdurlo al più presto nel mondo spirituale degli adulti,
oppure val meglio cominciare con l'indugiarsi insieme a lui nel suo mondo
fanciullesco? Sia il caso del linguaggio: «voi vedrete — dice il Nostro — che
in tutti i luoghi e in tutti i tempi, i genitori, invece di valersi
immediatamente di questa disposizione meravigliosa per abituarlo a pronunziare
le parole esattamente conversano con lui ripetendogli le parole storpiate
ch'egli incomincia a pronunziare» (p. 132). È il principio del “punto di
partenza” da trovare nell'animo dell'alunno. Ma il Crispolti, con queste sue
parole, viene a dubitare che esatta conseguenza di quel principio sia
l'identificazione assoluta del mondo spirituale del fanciullo con quello
dell'adulto, come vorrebbe la pedagogia idealistica moderna, per la quale il
mezzo più sicuro di educare il fanciullo è quello di imporgli decisamente - sia
pur con le debite precauzioni - il mondo spirituale dell'adulto. Il Crispolti
giustifica qui, in certa guisa, l'idea di un mondo fanciullesco, d'una
letteratura per ragazzi e di altre simili cose respinte da alcune correnti della
pedagogia moderna. Valeva la pena che egli approfondisse questo suo dissenso e
ne sviscerasse bene le ragioni. Ma queste piccolezze sono poi un niente,
in confronto alla piacevole urbanità con cui il Crispolti profonde il suo
ingegno intorno ad una quantità di problemi importanti, che il tirannico spazio
ci vieta di discutere, come pur ci piacerebbe, con lui. Ci sia concesso, prima
di finire, di esprimere ancora un consenso e un dissenso. Un consenso per
quanto egli scrive nella sua lettera ventunesima sulla cultura femminile. La
quale, perciò che il pensiero moderno ha proclamato, dopo il
cristianesimo, al di là di tutti i preconcetti naturalistici, l'eguaglianza
spirituale dell'uomo e della donna, non per questo ha cessato di essere un
problema, per il complesso di funzioni e d'abitudini diverse da quelle maschili
che fa della donna un essere, pur pari di natura e di valore all'uomo, ma che
si presenta tuttavia fornito d'una sua specifica fisionomia di cui l'educatore
non può non tener conto. L'aver dimenticato questo ha portato come effetto
nella società moderna una duplice piaga che il Crispolti ben analizza: quella
delle donne ignoranti da un lato, e quella delle donne pedantescamente saccenti
dall'altro. Il che si deve appunto, secondo il Crispolti stesso, all'aver
preteso di istruire, quando si è istruita, la donna, cogli stessi procedimenti
scolastici che si erano mostrati efficaci per l'uomo, «come se tra i licei
femminili e l'ignoranza non ci fosse nessuna via di mezzo». E invece non si è
pensato alla differenza di abitudini mentali per cui l'uomo, presto distratto
nella vita da un tumulto di nuovi interessi è più spregiudicato, reagisce con
un salutare oblio all'eccessivo pedantismo del sapere scolastico, conservandone
solo il nocciolo vitale, mentre la donna, più docile e più rinchiusa nei doveri
domestici, si assimila dalla scuola il sapere con tutto l'apparato pedantesco
con cui fu impartito. A questo inconveniente c'è, per il nostro un rimedio:
dare alla donna nella scuola solo i primi indispensabili elementi, e lasciare
all'educazione familiare e sociale la cura di fare il resto. «La più elevata e
piacevole erudizione delle donne è quella acquistata involontariamente nella
conversazione colla gente eletta. Per un padre colto che desideri le figlie
colte non v'è miglior via; farle partecipare in modo insensibile e continuo
alle sue alte occupazioni, svegliare in loro non soltanto l'intelligenza delle
cose serie, ciò che è agevole; ma l'interesse verso di esse, ciò che è più
difficile» (p. 200). Non importa se per questa via la donna non otterrà delle
idee precise e collegate sistematicamente fra loro: per chi non debba proprio
compiere un lavoro determinato in un certo campo dello scibile come l'uomo, il
beneficio della cultura sta non nelle singole idee che dà, ma nella elevazione
spirituale che procura all'animo; elevazione per cui la donna «non pretenda di
scoprire né di classificare, ma giunga a compiacersi nella visione delle cose
alte; non s'affanni a far camminare il mondo, ma possa accompagnarlo nel suo
cammino, ad ocelli aperti e con amore» (p. 202). Giacché la difficoltà della
cultura femminile è tutta qui, non nel far assimilare alla donna un certo
contenuto, cosa di cui essa è tanto capace quanto l'uomo, bensì nel suscitare
in essa il senso dell'importanza e del valore di ciò che studia; cosa assai più
difficile. Istruire la donna «è una difficoltà non intellettuale ma morale; è
una coltivazione non dell'ingegno ma dell'animo» (pp. 200 - 201). Osservazioni
tutte giustissime e sulle quali con qualche ben intesa riserva, siamo d'accordo
col Crispolti. La riserva, se mai, sarà questa: che vi sono donne nelle quali
una eccezionale formazione interiore ha suscitato il bisogno di studi più alti,
e alle quali perciò non è possibile rifiutare la stessa cultura dell'uomo,
anche se esse siano per far valere in quella interessi tutti propri diversi da
quelli dell'uomo e per occupare, nella repubblica delle lettere, un posto a sé.
La stessa necessità di collaborare con l'uomo per fondare l'unità spirituale
della famiglia, può render talora necessaria alla donna anche una completa
cultura scolastica, giacché pur fra gli uomini ci sono in tal senso differenze,
e ciò che basta magari alla moglie di un colto professionista avvocato,
ingegnere ecc., può non bastare alla moglie d'un grande poeta, d'un celebre
filosofo, d'un illustre scienziato, i quali di necessità richiedono alle loro
donne una più robusta formazione mentale e una ben più vasta cultura per
esserne anche soltanto accompagnati, seguiti, intesi nell'esercizio delle loro
attività. Ed eccoci ora al dissenso. Parlando della cultura e dell' arte
pratica della vita, il Crispolti torna a proporsi indirettamente, per conto
suo, la vexata quaestio dei rapporti fra teoria e pratica, pensiero e vita. E,
naturalmente, vede da par suo la diversa formazione mentale richiesta agli
uomini d'azione e agli uomini di pensiero, nonché la diversità di funzioni a
cui gli uni e gli altri sono chiamati. Ma appunto questo poi gli suscita un
dubbio: non sarebbe, per caso, la troppo intensa cultura intellettuale un grave
ostacolo allo sviluppo del senso pratico? «Mi sto domandando se il guardarsi
attorno intelligentemente senza posa; l'elevare alle regioni del pensiero tutto
ciò che ci ferisce la vista, ossia il menare una vita intellettuale intensa,
che debitamente frenata dalla ponderazione può darci frutti copiosi, originali
e buoni nelle lettere e nelle scienze, non ci renda più inetti all'alta vita
pratica, di quel che facesse la vecchia abitudine degli studi accademici e
degli sfoghi retorici, nei quali la mente non osservava e si può dire non
pensava, ossia non acquistava nessuna verità intorno al mondo e agli uomini, ma
si contentava di baloccarsi colle parole. Probabilmente questa vuotaggine,
funestissima alle scienze e alle lettere, lasciando in riposo e come da parte
la capacità quasi istintiva di sapersi regolare cogli uomini e di saperli
regolare, la conservava intatta» (pp. 191 - 192). E che ciò possa essere e sia,
nel fatto, stato, anzi, che tutto ciò rappresenti la soluzione più spiccia del
problema della cultura pratica, che nella maggior parte dei casi viene appunto
risolto lasciando inaridire nell'uomo le opposte tendenze alla speculazione, va
bene. Ma che possa diventare, sia pur a titolo d'ipotesi, un ideale pedagogico,
no: le soluzioni più spicce non sono sempre, in educazione, né le più efficaci
né le migliori. Il Crispolti qui si è fatto prender la mano, mi sembra, dalla
natura stessa degli esempi che arreca a conforto della sua tesi: d'un Cavour,
d'un Bismark, d'un Napoleone che, pur forniti di mediocri attitudini alla
scienza e d'un mediocre sapere in materia di dottrine politiche, riuscirono più
vastamente pratici ed efficaci nel governo degli uomini, di altri magari più di
loro valenti nel campo dottrinale, sia pur della cultura politica stessa. Dove
giusta è l'osservazione, ma ingiusta la conseguenza pedagogica che il Crispolti
sospetta se ne possa trarre. Trascuriamo, anzitutto, di far la vecchissima
questione se davvero quegli uomini dovessero dirsi meno colti di altri, o se,
invece, la vera cultura politica non fosse proprio da parte loro e da parte
degli altri soltanto l'apparenza libresca di esso o la morta erudizione.
Limitandoci, invece, solo agli aspetti del problema che possono offrire qualche
maggior interesse di novità, il Crispolti aveva qui proprio nel cattolicesimo
un criterio per scoprire il punto di vista sotto cui la innegabile grandezza di
quegli uomini ci si rivela inadeguata a un ideale educativo. Il secolo XIX
infatti (per restringere solo ad esso il discorso) produsse queste grandi
personalità tutte assorbite dal fuoco dell' azione: ferocemente chiuse o
addirittura diffidenti ed ostili verso ciò che non interessasse la loro opera
pratica (si pensi allo spregio di Napoleone verso gli « ideologues »!). E che
siffatte personalità dovessero nascere e adempissero una necessaria funzione
storica, non è dubbio. Ma, appunto per quella loro unilateralità di cui essi
stessi, prima o poi, rimasero vittime, la loro fu una grandezza direi quasi barbarica
e pagana consumatasi tutta nell'atto stesso dello sforzo, del dominio,
dell'imperio divenuto fine a sé medesimo. Lo sgomento del Manzoni che innanzi
alla morte di Napoleone si domanda: «fu vera gloria?» e non sa rispondere se
non col rappresentarsi l'interna tragedia di quell'anima arbitra fra due
secoli, due volte sbalzata dal trono alla polvere, e pacificata solo in fine,
là, «dove è silenzio e tenebre la gloria che passò»: lo sgomento del Manzoni
temperamento insieme e cristiano e moderno, è molto significativo ove si pensi
che cristianesimo e modernità bene intesa sono in ultima analisi concordi
nel richiedere a chiunque, uomo teoretico o pratico che sia, di ricordarsi
anzitutto d'essere uomo; cioè, azione, sì, ma anche pensiero; sforzo e volontà
di conquista, sì, ma anche contemplazione delle cose divine e raccoglimento
interiore. L'uomo pratico che non frena se stesso con l'esercizio del pensiero,
che disavvezza la mente dal considerare sé e le cose sub specie aeternitatis,
potrà acquistare sì una intensissima facoltà di dominio su sé e sugli altri, ma
finirà fatalmente col perdere ciò che col Crispolti chiamerò il senso
dell'umiltà: il senso della necessaria subordinazione del proprio agire ad una
realtà superiore, la religiosità, senza cui anche le più grandi opere restano
edificate sulla sabbia. Specificazione eccessiva significa sempre unilateralità
e unilateralità significa limite: ora, come educare in base a un limite, sia
pur ragionevole quanto si voglia? Quell'ideale napoleonico di grandezza è
andato, del resto, consumandosi da sé per istrada; e oggi è consueto lamento,
innanzi alle situazioni storiche intricate, che ahimè non nasca più un
Napoleone per districarle; lamento in cui, pur fatta la dovuta parte
all'esagerazione e tenuto presente che ogni secolo ha sempre, prima o poi, i
suoi grandi uomini, c'è questo di vero, che la qualità di grandezza politica
richiesta nel complicatissimo sistema della vita moderna, è una forma di
grandezza più umile, meno appariscente, più cristiana, direi, ma non per questo
meno reale. È grandezza più, nel buon senso della parola, democratica, che
aspetta meno dalle personalità eroiche e più dal quotidiano eroismo di
ciascuno, dalla illuminata dedizione di tutti al proprio dovere. È la necessità
per ciascun uomo di scienza di lasciare quando occorra la sua torre d'avorio
per sobbarcarsi a compiere quei doveri, maggiori o minori, che la vita pratica
gl'impone; è la necessità, per ciascun uomo pratico, di avere delle idee e di
fare gli sforzi richiesti a formarsi un chiaro concetto della realtà entro cui
bisogna operare. Dopo il lungo, tormentoso esperimento di oscillazione fra la
democrazia e l'imperialismo che, dalla rivoluzione francese in poi hanno
attraversato le grandi nazioni europee, le virtù puramente “politiche”, la pura
e semplice capacità di dominio sugli uomini, hanno perso credito; e, in tempi
recentissimi, si è più volte assistito all'istruttivo spettacolo di individui
espertissimi nel maneggio pratico degli uomini e delle cose che non hanno più
saputo orientarsi in mezzo alla nuova situazione creatasi nello spirito
contemporaneo, e hanno dovuto rassegnarsi a clamorosi insuccessi. Dirò al
Crispolti, tornando a parlare in termini più strettamente pedagogici, che non è
affatto dimostrato che il miglior mezzo per coltivare un'attitudine sia quello
di inaridire tutte le altre. E, ad evitare un discorso troppo lungo, gli
ricorderò che le attività spirituali si coltivano sì con l'esercizio, ma anche
con un opportuno riposo e che, d'altra parte, ogni attività presuppone per il
suo normale sviluppo lo sviluppo parimente normale di ogni altra attività, non
essendo qui il caso di trasformare in regola le eccezioni per cui grandi
personalità poterono colla sola forza del loro intenso volere colmare d'un subito
in sé, le deficienze e lacune di tal genere. L'antica abitudine della retorica
accademica sembra al Crispolti il modo con cui gl'italiani protessero e
lasciarono crescere il loro senso pratico: ed è strano che a questo proposito
altri pedagogisti - ad esempio il Gabelli - abbiano attribuito al genio
italiano carattere proprio opposto ed abbiano inteso quella stessa retorica
come eccessivo sfogo dato alla speculazione e all'immaginazione a scapito delle
doti pratiche che si sarebbero cosi inaridite. Ciò dimostra certo come sia
difficile raccogliere in una formula generale i caratteri d'un popolo che si
sono venuti formando attraverso il multiforme sviluppo di parecchi secoli. Ma
ciò dimostra anche, a parer mio, come sia rischioso l'interpretare il fiorir delle
grandi personalità italiane, dalle Signorie in poi, a beneficio d'un
singolare incremento dello spirito pratico in Italia. Quelle grandi
personalità sono spesso (mi si conceda l'espressione) retoricamente
individualiste: la loro attività politica si consuma in sé stessa come un
sogno, o come - fu già notato a proposito del Rinascimento - un'opera d'arte
che non ha risultati fuori della sua bellezza; raramente si inquadrano
nell'armonico insieme d'un sistema che le perpetui e le fecondi. E in quanto
esse ci offrono siffatte deficienze, dimostrano appunto che l'abitudine della
retorica fu, in ogni campo, teoretico e pratico, un difetto dello spirito
europeo e non solo italiano. Giacché v'è una retorica della pratica,
consistente appunto nel fatto ch'essa, esaltata per sé sola, finisce col non
esser più pura pratica, ma col farsi di sé medesima una religione e una
filosofia: filosofia dello sforzo, del dominio dell'eroismo, della Realpolitik,
dell'astratto machiavellismo, che noi moderni ben conosciamo sotto tutte le
possibili forme e ch'è una concezione unilaterale della realtà in servigio dei
puri fini pratici, la quale deforma coi suoi schemi ciò che lo stesso sano
istinto pratico (che non è mai praticistico) ispirerebbe. Significa ciò, forse,
che bisogna trascurare una cultura specifica delle attitudini pratiche? No
certo: significa solamente che l'educazione ha da formar tutto l'uomo, e che
attitudini pratiche e attitudini teoretiche possono essere e sono, distinte, ma
non è possibile, né desiderabile, che diventino opposte. Non è ancora spenta l'eco delle discussioni
suscitate dal discorso di Giovanni Gentile per la inaugurazione dell'Istituto
fascista di cultura napoletano: discussione alla quale organi autorevolissimi
(come l'Osservatore Romano e Il Popolo d'Italia) hanno recato il loro
contributo. Noi non pretendiamo certo partecipare a un dibattito nel quale è
meglio che le competenti autorità politiche e religiose siano lasciate libere
di esporre come meglio credono il loro pensiero, al di fuori di ogni altra
minore e, necessariamente, più limitata polemica. Ma, posto che «I Diritti
della Scuola» hanno creduto opportuno fare qualche osservazione in materia, sia
pur contenendola esclusivamente nel campo che può interessare la scuola, e la
scuola elementare in special modo, non sarà male che anche noi aggiungiamo,
sulla stessa materia, qualche altra osservazione in margine, se così può dirsi,
a quelle fatte, - del resto, giova riconoscerlo, con molto garbo e molta
cortesia - dalla Rivista romana. Notano, dunque, «I Diritti della Scuola»
che l'insegnamento religioso nella scuola elementare attende ancora la sua
definizione precisa. A norma del decreto 1 Ottobre 1923, doveva trattarsi, come
pare ovvio, d'un insegnamento impartito secondo la teoria e la prassi della
Chiesa Cattolica. Ma i programmi didattici, e la circolare dell'on. Gentile del
gennaio 1924 sembrano invece, al redattore de «I Diritti», ispirati a una ben
diversa concezione. Non «arido dottrinarismo» o «meccanico formalismo» ma
«poesia e quasi canto della fede», doveva essere l'insegnamento religioso; e
non più la Chiesa, ma l'opera religiosa del Manzoni e le figure più edificanti
del suo romanzo, erano additati come guida a questo nuovo lavoro del maestro. E
il significato di quelle espressioni è, sempre secondo i «Diritti della
Scuola», molto chiaro. Ci si permetta di riferirne le testuali parole: «La
tendenza era dunque sempre più verso una educazione religiosa che
parlasse al cuore del fanciullo, che facesse vibrare la sua anima ingenua
dei sentimenti più puri, delle più sante aspirazioni a una vita di bene per sé
e per gli altri. Alla Chiesa, se mai, l'insegnare la dottrina cristiana nella
sua veste letterale, non sempre accessibile al fanciullo; alla scuola il
proiettare la luce e il calore della fede sui fatti umani, sul cammino che il
fanciullo dovrà percorrere nella vita. È avvenuto invece l'opposto. A poco a
poco l'insegnamento religioso si è irrigidito nella teologia, nella liturgia,
nei dogmi e nei misteri; si è schematizzato nell'aridità del dialogo
catechistico, anzitutto nelle scuole dove l'ora di religione viene assunta dal
sacerdote; e poi via via anche nelle altre, perché il sacerdote rimane sempre
il giudice del maestro, accompagnandosi all'ispettore per verificare se e come
la religione si impartisce; ed egli non sa, il più delle volte, deflettere (e
forse non deve) dalla lettera dei sacri testi». Noi non vogliamo
rivolgere a «I Diritti della Scuola» alcun rimprovero: le stesse cose sono
state dette tante altre volte, e con intonazione assai meno cortese, che,
quanto alla forma, noi, e con noi i cattolici tutti, non abbiamo nulla da
eccepire. Ma è impossibile trattenersi dall'osservare che, pur sotto la loro
forma deferente e garbata, quelle parole celano una sostanza ben amara per la
religione Cattolica e per i suoi ministri. L'argomentazione de «I Diritti » si
basa tutta su un presupposto, pacificamente e...tacitamente ammesso come
incontrovertibile verità, della quale nessun uomo, sano di cervello, potrebbe
minimamente dubitare. Ecco il presupposto: la «teologia», la «liturgia», i
«dogmi» e i «misteri» costituiscono, non già la religione ma un suo
«irrigidimento»: il catechismo è, non la formulazione dottrinale precisa della
fede cattolica, ma un «arido dialogo», e l'uno e gli altri sono poi
assolutamente incompatibili con l'«anima ingenua», le «aspirazioni sante», i
«sentimenti puri» del fanciullo e dell'uomo. Il sacerdote e la Chiesa di cui
egli è ministro non possono portare nella scuola che «arido dottrinarismo» o
«meccanico formalismo»: se volete la «poesia» e il «canto» della fede, dovete
rivolgervi altrove. Non c'è, dunque, che prendere o lasciare. Se tenete il
decreto Gentile 1 Ottobre 1923, insegnerete la religione secondo la teoria e la
prassi della Chiesa Cattolica, cioè con tutto il bagaglio del Catechismo, della
Liturgia, della Teologia, ecc. - ma avrete l'«arido dottrinarismo» che si
voleva evitare. Se v'appigliate, invece, ai programmi didattici o alla
circolare del Gennaio 1924, avrete il canto, la poesia, i sentimenti puri e
l'anima ingenua, ma vi converrà gettare a mare la Chiesa, i sacerdoti, la
teoria, la prassi e l'insegnamento cattolico. Evidentemente, fra due posizioni
così diverse ed avverse, bisogna scegliere. E questo appunto domandano, con
molto rispetto ma con molta fermezza, «I Diritti della scuola».
Ripetiamolo ancora: sarebbe ingiusto addossare a «I Diritti» la responsabilità
d'un cuore così largamente diffuso; tanto più diffuso quanto più corrisponde a
un pregiudizio che, duole il dirlo, si trova talora anche fra gli stessi
cattolici. La liturgia, arido formalismo! La liturgia opposta alla poesia ed al
canto! La teologia opposta ai sentimenti buoni e alle aspirazioni generose! Ma
brava gente - verrebbe voglia di dire - avete mai aperto un messale? Avete mai
sfogliato un breviario? Avete mai assistito a una cerimonia religiosa? Intendo,
assistito non come vi assistono le panche o i pilastri, ma comprendendone
davvero, intimamente, tutte le parole e tutti gli atti? E sapete che il messale
è fatto delle sacre scritture, e così pure il breviario? E che quelle sacre
scritture sono i libri biblici, i profeti, i salmi, i vangeli, gli atti degli
apostoli, le epistole di San Paolo e di altri, gli scritti dei Padri, i più
begli inni cristiani e via discorrendo? E non vi pare che come «poesia» e come
«canto» ce ne sia abbastanza da scegliere, anche per le persone di più
difficile contentatura? Non sarò certo io a dir male del Manzoni e della sua
opera; ciò nonostante, mi sembra che, poniamo, San Paolo, Isaia, o Davide siano
a loro modo «poeti» non certo inferiori al grande nostro italiano: il quale,
del resto, appunto da quegli o da altri simili autori, nonché dalla sua vasta
cultura profondamente cattolica e ortodossa trasse, ad esempio, l'ispirazione
dei suoi Inni sacri. Certo, si osserverà, non tutta la poesia delle sacre
scritture è accessibile o comprensibile al fanciullo: ma, d'altra parte, è
evidente che nemmeno siamo obbligati a spiegargliela tutta o tutta in una
volta, o tutta collo stesso grado di profondità. E poi la liturgia non è solo
nelle parole: è nella musica, nel canto, nell'azione del celebrante e degli
assistenti, nel colore dei paramenti sacri, nella architettura stessa del
tempio, elementi organizzati e concatenati da una sapientissima disciplina che
riescono quanto mai plastici, sensibili ed «intuitivi» e parlano all'animo
anche delle persone più illetterate. E la sapienza colla quale tutti quegli
elementi sono proporzionati, volta per volta, alle circostanze e allo stato
d'animo cui si riferiscono! Le Messe funebri, colla loro solenne mestizia,
quelle della Natività, del periodo Pasquale e, in genere, delle grandi feste,
colla loro trionfale esultanza; quelle dell'Avvento e della Quaresima col loro
pensoso raccoglimento, quelle del periodo dopo Pentecoste colla loro luminosa
serenità costituiscono un vasto poema - il ciclo liturgico - nel quale la
natura medesima ha spesso la parola, e le luci e le ombre, i caldi o i geli, le
stagioni e le opere, le più varie circostanze della vita e i fondamentali
sentimenti dell'anima umana trovano necessariamente un'adeguata espressione.
Poiché la Chiesa ha conosciuto molto prima dei pedagogisti il metodo
«intuitivo» e colla musica, col canto, colle pitture, con l'architettura dei
suoi templi e il suono delle sue campane, ha saputo parlare alle plebi
illetterate quando ispettori, maestri, direttori, leggi scolastiche, letterali
e poeti erano di là da venire! Certo, la conoscenza assidua e amorosa
della liturgia non è, neppure fra i cattolici, oggi diffusa quanto si potrebbe
desiderare. Ma il movimento liturgico, promosso e diretto dall’instancabile
zelo e delle autorità ecclesiastiche e di molte organizzazioni cattoliche va
facendo ogni giorno progressi. E basti qui ricordare l'opera della Società
francese di San Giovanni Evangelista, e, fra noi, quella dell'Abate Emanuele
Caronti per la volgarizzazione e la diffusione della liturgia: per tacere dei
molti, ottimi testi per le scuole elementari, dove la liturgia ha, molto
opportunamente, una parte notevole. Per gli amatori di «curiosità» pedagogiche
ricorderemo gli esperimenti fatti in Ispagna, a tal proposito, col metodo
Montessori; la partecipazione dei fanciulli all'Offertorio della Messa,
mediante un'offerta che risuscitava le più antiche tradizioni della Chiesa: il
grano e la vite coltivati, pure dai fanciulli, come materia delle specie
sacramentali, e via dicendo. Tutti espedienti, senza dubbio, utili e
giovevolissimi, ma che sono ben lungi dal costituire, come forse taluno
potrebbe credere, una novità rispetto alla teoria e alla prassi della Chiesa,
che ha sempre chiamato i fanciulli al servizio degli altari, come si può vedere
persino nelle più remote parrocchie dei più remoti villaggi: anche senza le
panchettine, le pilettine, gli inginocchiatoi minuscoli e tutto l'armamentario
a scala ridotta del metodo montessoriano. E passo all'altro,
apparentemente più scabroso argomento della «teologia» o del «catechismo», che
sarebbe, in fondo, una teologia elementare per fanciulli, come la teologia è un
catechismo degli adulti. Ora, la teologia è il pensiero di cui la liturgia è la
esterna e multiforme espressione, è l'anima di cui la liturgia è il corpo.
Evidentemente, chi ignora l'una non può afferrar bene l'altra, a meno di
non essere un filosofo o uno scienziato così abituato a muoversi fra i concetti
puri, da potervisi collocare stabilmente senza bisogno di altri sussidi; e
anche allora l'ignoranza della liturgia (cioè la negligenza nell'usare quei
mezzi che la Chiesa ha messo a nostra disposizione appunto per comprendere e
praticare la sua dottrina) produrrà sempre i suoi effetti funesti, poiché in
fine l'uomo, anche scienziato, non è una intelligenza pura, ma un composto di
anima e corpo, di senso e intelletto, né può fare a meno in nessun caso di
sorreggere il proprio pensiero con stimoli sensibili. Si capisce, dunque,
facilmente, che presso coloro i quali non sono né filosofi né scienziati, o
comunque hanno trascurato di completare la propria cultura religiosa con una
buona cultura liturgica, il catechismo sia spesso una anima senza corpo, dia,
cioè, quell'impressione di arido formalismo e di dottrinario schematismo che
tanto dispiace, e nella scuola e fuori, e che tanto urta le delicate esigenze
dell'anima infantile. Ma ricostituite quella unità che avete spezzato:
ricongiungete la teologia alla liturgia, secondo, appunto, la teoria e la
prassi della Chiesa Cattolica, e le verità del catechismo, aride in apparenza,
si vestiranno dei più smaglianti colori: diverranno verità, non solo, apprese o
ripetute a parole, ma vissute, sentite, amate, alle quali neppure l'anima del
più rozzo analfabeta saprà rimanere insensibile. È difficile il concetto della
transustanziazione? Eppure anche il fanciullo e la donnicciola cantano e
sentono il Pange lingua. È difficile l'idea della resurrezione della carne?
Eppure nessuno, che non sia un idiota o un deficiente, può ascoltare senza
fremere le parole del vangelo giovanneo, dette dal sacerdote: Ego sum
resurrectio et vita. Questo non vuol dire, d'altra parte, che anche il catechismo
puro e semplice non possa dì per se stesso costituire la base d'un insegnamento
vivo, agile, plastico, "intuitivo" ed "attivo" condotto
secondo i migliori criteri pedagogici. Tutto sta nel modo con cui viene
insegnato. Accusarlo di aridità perché lo si vede, sulla carta, costituito da
tante domande e risposte, sarebbe come accusare di aridità l'aritmetica perché,
nel libro, altro non si trova che l'enunciato dei problemi o le definizioni
nude e crude. Quelle domande e quelle risposte sono l'oggetto dell'insegnamento,
il termine ultimo cui si deve arrivare; non sono il metodo, la via, o il punto
di partenza. E sul metodo appunto la didattica catechistica odierna ha una
quantità di studi notevolissimi, ove, ad esempio, le questioni inerenti al
metodo "intuitivo" e ai suoi sussidi didattici sono state discusse e
trattate esaurientemente. Citiamo, per restare fra i nomi italiani, le
interessanti ricerche dei Monsignori Pavanelli e Vigna. Il movimento circa la
didattica catechistica, da vari anni già, è non meno notevole e non meno
confortante del movimento liturgico. Ora, ignorare tutto questo, e continuare a
parlare del catechismo come se fosse insegnato a memoria, e magari, a suon di
scappellotti, significa precludersi senz'altro la via di discutere con imparzialità
e competenza. Che se, qualche volta, nemmeno l'istruzione catechistica
impartita coi metodi migliori, dà i risultati che se ne potrebbero attendere,
la colpa non è davvero della Chiesa o dei suoi sacri testi. Datemi una società
come quella cristiana primitiva, e io vi dispenso dall'osservanza di qualsiasi
didattica; sicuro che, per quanto schematiche, le parole del maestro troveranno
sempre, nella vita religiosa quotidiana, di che riempirsi in abbondanza anche
per il fanciullo più scafato e testardo del mondo; sicuro che le massime, gli
esempi, le abitudini d'una società e d'una famiglia troppo spesso indifferenti
o ribelli alla parola della Chiesa non mi ridurranno le definizioni
catechistiche allo stato d'una pallida larva. Anche qui, dunque, il segreto per
avere una cultura religiosa, ricca, calda, piena di pathos e di poesia, e
perciò armonica ai fondamentali bisogni dell'animo infantile, sta non
nell’allontanarsi, ma nell'avvicinarsi sempre più all'insegnamento genuino
della Chiesa. Non sapremmo, perciò, vedere alcuna contraddizione fra il
decreto Gentile del 1 Ottobre 1923 e la circolare del Gennaio 1924 dello stesso
ministro, o i programmi didattici, poiché, seguire la teoria e la prassi della
Chiesa Cattolica nell'insegnamento religioso, significa per l'appunto dare al
fanciullo la "poesia", il "canto" e tutte le altre belle
cose annesse e connesse. Né può lasciar adito a equivoco il nome del Manzoni,
il laico così geloso della propria ortodossia, da riuscir più ortodosso di
molti sacerdoti suoi contemporanei, quali, poniamo, il Lambruschini o il
Gioberti. Che se contraddizione c'è stata fra il decreto e la circolare, o il
decreto e i programmi, essa è stata piuttosto nella mente del loro autore che
nella realtà delle cose e appartiene, dunque, alla storia della cultura o della
filosofia italiana e non a quella della legislazione scolastica. Il
cattolicesimo, non è il protestantesimo, e perciò sarà sempre un osso troppo
duro pei denti dei filosofi volenterosi che si proveranno a maciullarlo e a convertirlo
in poltiglia per uso delle loro costruzioni metafisiche. Sotto questo aspetto,
la nota de "I Diritti" è, per noi, molto significativa e confortante:
è il sintomo d'un grandioso insuccesso, da parte di chi aveva creduto poter
introdurre il cattolicesimo nella scuola, come veste mitologica inferiore d'una
verità filosofica che, più tardi, lo avrebbe superato e divorato. Dal 1923 sono
passati cinque anni e il cattolicesimo, ben lungi dall'essere “superato” è lì,
colla sua teologia e la sua liturgia, i suoi dogmi e i suoi misteri, che
minaccia gravemente di "superare" gli altri e di mangiarsi in due
bocconi le stesse filosofie più evolute, alle quali sta contendendo
energicamente il possesso delle scuole medie e superiori che pure s'erano
riservate. Lo scandalo diventa grave: e "I Diritti " hanno tutte le
ragioni d'esserne preoccupati, posto che stia loro a cuore davvero, la sorte
delle filosofie "evolute": il che, sinceramente, non auguriamo. La
Pedagogia di S. Tommaso d'Aquino 65 L'Educazione naturale 93 L'Anima della
pedagogia 125 Filosofia, Religione e " Filosofie " nelle Scuole Medie
163 Pedagogia cattolica 195 L'Insegnamento religioso nelle Scuole elementary.
Il problema della dialettica oxoniense suscita una difficoltà. Il chiedere
soltanto come è possibile che il tutore (Socrate) comunichi al tutee
(Alcebiade) una determinate cattitudine psicologica sembra implicare, se non
addirittura una contraddizione, certo un paradosso quasi insormontabile, dato
che il termine "tra-smettere" o "co-municare" o qualsiasi
altro termine consimile che si adoperi a definire l'azione di Socrate su
Alcebiade ("conversare") non sembra possa riflettere, se non in
maniera molto imprecisa e grossolana, ciò ch'è veramente caratteristico del
processo filosofico. Se si trattasse, infatti, di un oggetto materiale o
corporale, o fisico, allora parrebbe a tutti chiarissimo ch'esso potesse
"co-municar-si", "tras-metter-si" o cambiar sede, come una
moneta che passa di mano in mano, ma nella dialettica oxoniense *ciò che* si
"tras-mette" è essenzialmente un valore ideale, immateriale,
non-fisico, spirituale, come la scienza, la cognoscenza, la virtù, un contenuto
proposizionale, un complesso proposizionale non-naturalistico. E questo
complesso proposizionale (in parte sensibile) tanto poco si lascia
«tras-mettere», nel significato explicito dell'espressione (Latino, mettere
trans), poiché il complesso proposizionale ha la sua base percetuale, come
Peacocke nota, in un atto interno della mente del soggetto Socrate. E un atto
di tal genere è tanto impossibile "tras-portarlo" dall'anima del
soggetto Socrate all'anima dell'altro soggetto Alcebiade, quanto è impossibile
che il soggetto Socrate trasmetta ad Alcebiade ciò che costituisce la sua
intima personalità, sì che Tizio diventi Caio o Socrate si tramuti in
Alcibiade! XI suo soggiorno in Italia* Terminata la sua
opera, Schopenhauer non si decise a tornare nel Nirvana, come torse si
sarebbe potuto credere; al contrario senza nem¬ meno aspettare le prove
di stampa, egli partì pel paese più bello e più ottimista che vi sia
sotto il sole, per la. véna terra promessa, per il paese dei paesi, per
la bella Italia, Con ragione si è detto che ! abitu¬ dine di vedere la
vita in nero, sparisce e sembra innaturale sotto il cielo splendido d’im
paese meridionale. Dintorni poco graziosi spesso di¬ ventano Ja causa
d’un falso pessimismo; ma de v ? esser genuino il pes¬ simismo che
persiste anche in un ambiente bello ed incantevole. Il fatto che Schopenhauer
non ismani il suo pessimismo è una prova convin¬ cente, se prova ci
vuole, che il suo pessimismo era sincero. Questo pessimismo era piuttosto
comprensibile nel freddo settentrione; ma é un altro conto ritenerla in
mi paese ove tutto sorride, ove la natura stessa c* invita a prendere con
leggerezza resistenza ed a gettare lon¬ tano da noi ogni cura, ove Paria
stessa respira la leggerezza di cuore, ove il dolce far niente è il
programma di vita degPindigeni, T resoconti del suo viaggio in
Italia sono tutt ? altro che blandi. Schopenhauer, più si faceva vecchio,
pili si rinchiudeva in se stesso, e non vi sono nè giornali nè lettere
che possano colmare questa lacuna nella sua biografia. D’ora innanzi era
il suo espresso desiderio di sfug¬ gire alla pubblicità. Non voglio che
la mia vita privata formi mPesea « per la curiosità fredda e maliziosa
del pubblico », così rispose molti anni più tardi a coloro che lo
esortavano a fornire maggiori informa’ zioni su se stesso ai dizionari
biografici. I suoi notiziari presero il posto del giornale, ma siccome
contengono piuttosto riflessioni suggerite dagli avvenimenti senza
raccontare .questi, non spargono sugl 5 incidenti del suo viaggio che
poca luce. Schopenhauer attraversò le Alpi persuaso d 3 avere
scritto una gran¬ d'oliera per Pumanftàp stava ora ad aspettarne il
risultato. Non era tanto indifferente in quanto alla accoglienza della
sua opera quanto voleva far credere. Il trattato sulla
Quadruplice Radice era stato ben accolto dai critiei, -ed. aveva chiamato all 5
autore l’attenzione generale più di quanto sogliono farlo le
dissertazioni universitarie; era giustificabile che spe¬ rasse che la sua
opera maggiore dovesse suscitare almeno lo stesso in¬ teresse. Egli
corresse le prove di stampa che gii furono mandate ed a petto k
pubblicazione, sfogando intanto i suoi sentimenti in linguag¬ gio
poetico. Unv er schami e Vers e. A us ] anggehegten,
tiefgefuhlten Schmerzen Wand sich’s einpor aus meinetn innern Herzen,
Es festzuhaHen haMch lang gemngen, I>och weiss ich, dasz
zuletzt es mir gelungen. Mogi Euch drtim irnrner, wie Ilir wollt,
gebar cleri, Des Werkes Le ben kòimt ihr nìcht gefahrden;
Àufh&ffieii kònnt Ilir's, mirini ermehr vernichterq Ein
Denkrnrj! wird die Nachwelt mir ernchten. Nel frattempo visitava le
principali città <MP Italia settentrionale; frequentava i musei ed il
teatro, continuando a studiare la lingua ita¬ liana die egli già sapeva
assai bene. E* in Italia die egli s 5 invaghì cosi profondamente della
musica di Rossini, di cui andava spesso a sentire le opere. Degli autori
italiani egli predilìgeva, -— ed è questo un fatto abbastanza curioso, —
il Petrarca, il poeta di Laura e dell 5 amore. « Fra tutti gli
scrittori italiani, preferisco il mio caro Petrarca. « Non vi e in tutto
il mondo un poeta che lo abbia mai superato nella « profondità e
nell’ardore del sentimento; le sue parole vi vanno dritto a al cuore.
Per' ciò in preferisco i suoi sonetti, i suoi trionfi e le sue can- a
zoili alle follie fantastiche dell 5 Ariosto ed alle orrende contorsioni
di « Dante. Trovo il fiume naturale delle parole, che sgorgano dal
cuore, « molto più opportuno del linguaggio ricercato ed affettato di
Dante, a Petrarca è sempre stato e rimarrà per sempre il poeta del mio
cuore. « Quello che concorre a confermarmi nella mia opinione è il
tempo a presente, a quanto pare, tanto perfetto che osa parlare con
disprezzo a di Petrarca. T T na prova sufficiente sarebbe il confronto di
Dante e « Petrarca nel loro costume intimo e non ricercato, cioè in
prosa, eon- K frontando per esempio i bei libri di Petrarca, ricchi di
pensieri e di « verità, De \ ita solittì-rui, De Coafemptu mundi, De
rimediu ufrius- z que fortume eoe., colla scolastica sterile ed asciutta
di Dante ». Dante coi suoi modi didattici non corrispondeva al
gusto rii Scho¬ penhauer che considerava tutto Pinfenio come un’apoteosi
della cru¬ deltà. ed il penultimo canto come una glorificazione della
mancanza del sentimento d’onore e di coscienza. Non aveva neppure alcun
affetto per Ariosto e Boccaccio; anzi più volte espresse la sua
meraviglia in quanto alla fama europea di quest’ultimo, il quale dopo
tutto non aveva scritto che Delle ehtonique.s scandaleuse*. Gli piacevano
PAlfieri ed il Tasso, ma li considerava come autori tli seeoncVordine;
egli non riteneva il Tasso degno d'essere posto come quarto in una linea
coi tre grandi poeti italiani. Per quanto riguardava Parte,
egli si sentiva maggiormente attirato dalla scultura e dall'arekitettura
che dalla pittura. Ciò non potrebbe sorprendere e non sarebbe in
contraddizione coll 1 indole generale della sua mente* se la sua intimità
con Goethe non lo avesse fatto entrare nello studio dei colori.
Schopenhauer non volle mai ammettere che i due anni possati in
Italia fossero stati per lui due anni felici, sosteneva, che mentre gli
altri viaggiavano per divertimento, egli lo faceva per raccogliere nuovi
ma¬ teriali in appoggio del suo sistema, e nel suo notiziario scrisse
has- stoma di Aristotile : 6 TQ aAuTCtfO orò TU fiSìl.
Però ricordava con piacere questi due anni, dico con piacere e
s'in¬ tende fin dove Schopenhauer ammetteva il piacere; negli ultimi
giorni della sua vita non poteva mai menzionare Venezia senza che la sua
voce tremasse, il che prova che Pamore che ivi lo tenne stretto, non era
inte¬ ramente dimenticato, sebbene fosse morto. Senza dubbio, la
seguente nota scritta a Bologna in data del 19 novembre 1818 tradisce
qualche contentezza. « Appunto perchè ogni felicità è
negativa, accade che non ce ne « avvertiamo affatto, quando ci troviamo
in uno stato di benessere; la¬ ti sciamo tutto passare dinanzi a noi
liscio, e con dolcezza fino a che tf questo stato è passato. La perdita
soltanto* che ci si fa sentire con « chiarezza, pone in rilievo la
felicità, svanita; è allora soltanto che ci a accorgiamo di ciò che
abbiamo trascurato di assicurarci, ed il rimorso « si aggiunge alla
privazione, b Schopenhauer fece il soggiorno piu lungo a Venezia-
In quel tempo vi era anche Byron, ritenuto esso pure da vezzi femminili.
E J strano che essi non s'incontrarono mai. Schopenhauer nutriva pel
genio di Byron la più grande ammirazione ed intelletti al mente entrambi
sarebbero an¬ dati d f accordo. Egli non incontrò neppure Schelley, nè
Leopardi. Un dialogo secondo il modo di Leopardi in nni egli ed il
giovane conte era¬ no confrontati, fu pubblicato nella rivista
contemporanea del 1858, e Schopenhauer non si diede pace prima che non sì
fosse assicurato di averne una copia. Gli procurò una vivissima soddisf
azione il trovarsi asso¬ ciato col giovane che egli ammirava così
profondamente (ed a cui, dicia¬ molo tra parentesi, Io scrittore De
Sanctis, non ha reso giustizia); gran parte della sua soddisfazione,
proveniva vinche dal fatto die egli vedeva elio la sua filosofia si era
fatto strada fino in Italia. Non avveniva spes¬ so che egli fosse
contento di quanto sì scriveva sulle sue opere, non tro¬ vava mai che lo
avessero letto con sufficiente attenzione; ma quest 1 uo¬ mo, così
diceva, lo aveva assorbito in sucóurn et tangm nem .Quando -Schopenhauer arrivò
a Venezia per la prima Tolta, e pii scrisse : « chiunque si trova repenti
nani ente trasferito in un contrada « totalmente straniera, ove prevale
un modo di vivere e di parlare dif- « ferente da quello a cui e pii è
abituato, ha il sentimento di chi ina- « spettata mente ha messo il piede
nel F acqua fredda. Egli avverte su- « bito la differenza di tempera
tura, sente una forte influenza che agi- « sce dal di fuori e che lo
rende infelice; egli si trova in un elemento « estraneo in cui non sa
muoversi comodamente, A questo si aggiunga « che egli si accorge come
ogni cosa attira la sua attenzione e che teme « di essere a ne Ir e gl i
osservato da tutti. Ma dal momento che si è eal- « maio, che ha
incominciato ad assorbire la. nuova temperatura e ad « abituarsi al nuovo
ambiente, egli si trova bene come difatti si trova « un uomo nell* a equa
fresca. Egli si è assimilato a!1 J elemento, ed averir « do perciò
cessato di occuparsi della propria persona, rivolge la sua a attenzione
esclusivamente a ciò che lo circonda: ed ora, appunto per- « che lo
contempla con oggettività neutrale, egli si sente superiore al « suo
ambiente come prima se ne sentiva schiacciato, « Viaggiando le
impressioni dlogni genere abbondano, ed il nutria s mento intellettuale
ci viene in tale quantità che non ci rimane tempo c per la digestione. Ci
rincresce che le impressioni le quali si succedono a rapidamente non
possano lasciare una impronta permanente. In real- tà però avviene qui
quello che ci accade quando leggiamo. Quante «* volte ci lamentiamo di
non essere capaci di ritenere la millesima par- «te di quanto abbiamo
letto! W confortante però in ognuno dei due « casi il sapere che ciò che
abbiamo visto e letto, ha fatto sulla nostra « mente un'impressione,
prima d'essere dimenticato, impressione che « concorre a formare e
nutrire la mente, mentre ciò che riteniamo a « memoria serve soltanto a
riempire i vuoti della testa con materie che « ci rimangono sempre
estranee, perchè non le abbiamo mai assorbite; « il recipiente dunque
potrebbe anche essere rimasto vuoto come prima. » Schopenhauer era
d’opinione elle, viaggiando, possiamo riconosce- re quanto areno radicate
le opinioni pubbliche e nazionali., e quanto sia difficile di cambiare il
modo di pensare d T un popolo, « Mentre cerchiamo d'evitare uno
scoglio, ne incontriamo un altro; « mentre fuggiamo i pensieri nazionali
di un paese, in un secondo ne « troviamo degli altri, ma non dei migliori.
Il cielo ci liberi da questa « valle di miseria! « \ i a gg
ian do veci i a m o 1 a v ita u ma n a s ot t o ni olle fori n e dive rs e
: « ed è questo appunto che rende i viaggi così interessanti. Ma,
ving- « g i a n d o, non v e d i a m o c he il lato esteriore del la v if
a u ni a n a ; cioè ne « scorgiamo soltanto quello che se ne vede
generalmente. D'altra parte « non vediamo mai la vita interiore del
popolo, il suo cuore ed il suo « centro, cioè il campo in cui Vazione del
popolo si svolge, in cui il «suo carattere si manifesta,,., quindi,,
viaggiando, vediamo il mondo a come un paesaggio dipinto con un orizzonte
vasto che abbraccia molte <i cose, ma che non li a personaggi
spiccati. Di lì, nasce pure la stan¬ tìi ehezza del viaggio. »
Schopenhauer studiò profondamente gl’Italiani, i loro costumi e la
loro religione. Di quest’ultima dice: La religione cattolica è un
ordine per ottenere il cielo mendicando, giacche sarebbe troppo disturbo
doverlo guadagnare. I preti sono i me¬ diatori di questa
transazione. « Ogni religione positiva dopo tutto non fa che
usurpare il trono « che per diritto spetta alla filosofia ; i filosofi
quindi la coniti attera uno a sempre, anche se dovessero considerarla
come un male neccessario ed « inevitabile, un appoggio per la debolezza
morbosa della maggior pur- « te degli uomini. a La nuda
verità non ha la forza di frenare le menti rozze e di co¬ te stringerle
ad astenersi dal male e dalla crudeltà giacche esse non san¬ ti no
afferrare queste verità. Di lì il bisogno di storne, di parabole e di «
dottrine positive. « In dicembre ièlS la sua grande opera vide la
luce per la prima volta. Schopenhauer ne mandò una copia a Goethe. Poi
nella prima¬ vera del 1819, egli si trasferì a Napoli; Goethe accusò
ricevuta del do¬ no per mezzo di Adele Schopenhauer, una delle predilette
del vecchio poeta. « Goethe ha ricevuto il tuo libro con
grande piacere, scrive Adele, a Egli immediata mente divise V opera
voluminosa in due parti e cornili- « ciò a leggerla. Un’ora dopo egli mi
mandò il biglietto qui unito, di- « eendomi che egli ti ringraziava molto
e credeva che tutto il libro .do- « vesso esser buono, giacche aveva
sempre la fortuna di aprire i libri « nei posti più notevoli; così egli
mi disse d'avere letto le pagine indi- « caie (pag. 22 e pag. 340 della
prima edizione,) ed egli spera di po- « ferii scrivere quanto prima la
sua opinione completa. Intanto egli « desiderava che io ti dicessi
questo. Alcuni giorni dopo Ottilia mi dis- « se che il di lei padre
leggeva il tuo libro con un interesse che lessa « fino allora non aveva
mai osservato in lui. Egli le Ka detto che ora ave- « va. un divertimento
per tutto ranno, giacché intendeva leggere il tuo libro da capo in fondo
e credeva che ciò lo avrebbe occupato per un « anno. Disse a me ch’egli
si sentiva proprio felice di saperti sempre « a lui devoto, nonostante il
vostro disaccordo sulla teoria dei colori. « Disse pure che nel tuo libro
gli piaceva sopra tutto la chiarezza della « rappresentazione e del
linguaggio, sebbene la tua lingua differisce da quella degli altri e che
occorresse prima avvezzarsi a chiamare le « cose come tu lo vuoi.
« ila, continuò, quando una volta si é pervenuto a queste, allora «
la lettura procede con facilità e comodo. Anche la disposizione della «
materia gli piaceva ; solfante la forma immaneggiabile del libro non a
gli dava pace, e si convinse che F opera dovesse consìstere di due vo- a
fumi* Spero di rivederlo solo ed allora egli mi dirà iorse qualche cosa «
di più soddisfacente ; ad ogni mudo tu sei il solo autore che Goethe «
legga in questo modo e con tanta serietà* » Nondimeno Schopenhauer
ritenne F opinione che Goethe non lo legasse con sufficiente attenzione ;
che il poeta avesse già speso il po~ co interesse che aveva per le
questioni filosofiche* A Napoli Schopenhauer fu principalmente in
rapporto con giovani inglesi. L’elemento inglese aveva per lui, durante
tutta la sua vita, un fascino speciale; credeva che gl"Inglesi erano
quasi giunti ad esse)e il più gran popolo del mondo, e che soltanto
alcuni loro pregiudizi si opponevano, acciocché infatti lo fossero. La
sua cognizione della loro lingua ed il suo accento erano tanto perfetti
che anche gl T Inglesi stessi per- qualche tempo lo prendevano per un
loro cOmpatriftta, un errore die sempre lo esaltava* Tutto
quanto vide, concorse a confermare ed a sviluppare il suo sistema
filosofico * Rimase specialmente colpito dal quadro di un gio¬ vane
artista veneziano, Hayez, esposto a Capo di Monte ; di questo quadro
illustrava la sua dottrina per quanto riguarda le lagrime che, secondo il
nostro filosofo, si spargono sempre per compassione di sé stesso* Il
quadro rappresentava, il passo dell 1 Odissea, ove Ulisse piange alla
Cor¬ te di re Alcinoo, il feaco, sentendo cantare le proprie sventure, «
Questa « è Fespressione più alta idi e possa avere la compassione di se
stesso. » Schopenhauer aveva oramai raggiunto la piena maturità e
forza dell’uomo. Secondò lui il genio dell’uomo non dura più della
bellezza delle donne, cioè quindici anni, dal ventesimo al trentesimo
quinto* & La ventina e la prima parte della trentina sono per
Fintelletto quello « che è il 'uose di maggio per gii alberi, questi
durante la stagione prh <t maverile emettono soltanto dei bottoni che
poi diventano frutti* » L’esteriore, di Schopenhauer doveva essere
caratteristico, ma la sua bel¬ lezza stava nell 9 animo e non nella
faccia; i suoi occhi vivaci, ed ardenti anche nella vecchiaia, nella
gioventù rischiaravano quella testa poten¬ te col loro sguardo acuto e
limpido. Verso quel tempo un vecchio si¬ gnore* a lui perfettamente
estraneo, gli si accosto in istrada per dirgli che egli, Schopenhauer,
sarebbe stato un giorno un grand’uomo* An¬ che un Italiano, che pure non
lo conosceva, venne da lui e gli disse: € Signore, lei deve aver fatto
qualche grande opera; non so cosa sia, a ma lo vedo nel suo viso* » Un
Francese che alla tal)le cVhote, gli sede¬ va dirimpetto, ad un tratto
esclamò: « Je ooudrais savori- ce qu il penr- « se de nous autres j nous
devom par altre hien ■ petit s à ses yeiux ! ?> Un giovane Inglese
rifiutò assolutamente di cambiare posto con le parole: « Yoglio stare
qui, perchè mi piace vedere la sua faccia intelligente. » Nel riposo egli
rassomiglia va a Beethoven; entrambi avevano la stessa testa quadrata, ma
il cranio di Schopenhauer dev’essere stato piu grande come lo prova la
misura elle ne fu presa dopo la sua morie e che recai un’idea delle prò
pozioni straordinarie eli questa testa, E no¬ tevole la distanza che
correva tra un occhio e V altro; egli non poteva portare occhiali
ordinari. Era di statura media, tarchiata e muscolosa , aveva le spalle
larghe ; In sua bella testa era portata da un collo troppo breve per
esser bello* Capelli biondi e ricci Liti circondavano la sua fron¬ te e
cadevano sulle sue spalle; quando era giovane, mustacchi biondi coprivano
la sua bocca ben formata, che coll'accrescersi degli anni perdette la sua
bellezza a misura che perdeva i denti. Il suo naso era di bellezza
speciale e cosi pure le sue piccole mani* Egli stesso faceva una
distinzione fra la fisionomia, intelletuale e morale à- un uomo; cer¬
cava la prima nelPocchio e nella fronte, la seconda nelle forme della
bocca e del mento. Era soddisfatto della sua fisionomia intellettuale, ma
non della sua fisionomia morale* Vestiva sempre bene e con elegan¬ za,
il.suo contegno era aristocratico e leggermente altero. Portava Seni¬ li
re V abito, cravatta bianca e scarpe; i suoi abiti erano sempre dello
stesso taglio senza riguardo alla moda, eppure egli non pareva mai stra¬
no, talmente aveva adattato il vestito alla persona. He il popolo in
istra¬ da spesso lo seguiva collo sguardo, ne era causa il suo esteriore
animato dal fuoco dei genio, e non il suo vestito. Più tardi fu fatto il
suo ri¬ tratto con la fotografia e colla pittura; la tradizione soltanto
ci parla dèi suo esteriore, quando era nel fiore degli anni virili.
Velia biografia, del laborioso antiquario e storico I. E. Bolline!
tro¬ viamo runica menzione fatta del viaggio di Schopenhauer a
Roma. Allora era un'epoca di misticismo per Parte e per la religione
della Germania, epoca che produsse nella storia un Biniseli, nell’arte
un Cornelius ed un Qverbeck. I giovani artisti tedeschi, chiamati dal
loro console ad ornare la di lui villa sul monte Pine io, avevano
l'abitudine di riunirsi quotidianamente con certi poeti e giornalisti nel
caffè Greco, diventato il punto d'incontro per tutti i Tedeschi di Bontà.
Il poeta Ruekert ed il novelliere L, Schefer, ottimisti per professione,
frequentavano allora quella casa. Molti degli uomini più importanti della
Ger¬ mania allora viventi, si trovavano nella eterna città.
Schopenhauer, come gli altri, frequentava il caffè Greco, ma pare che il
suo spirito mefistofelico fosse un elemento disturbatore per i visitatori
ordinari che desideravano che egli si allontanasse* Un giorno egli
annunciò alla società che la nazione tedesca era la più stupida di tutte,
ma che era in un punto a tutte superiore, cioè che era arrivata al pùnto
di poter fare a meno della religione. Questa osservazione suscitò una
tempesta ili disapprovazioni, ed alcune voci gridarono: fuori! alla porta
met¬ tetelo fuori ! Dà quel giorno in poi il filosofo evitò il caffè
Greco, ina le sue opinioni sui Tedeschi rimasero inalterate. « La patria
tedesca * in me non si è allevato un patriota », disse un giorno ; e
spesso anda dicendo ai suoi compatì lotti a francesi ed a inglesi che egli si
vergoigmva di essere tedesco, piaceli è questo popolo era tanto stupido, a
Se « io pensassi così della mia nazione », rispose un Francese, «
almeno « non lo direi. » « Questo Schopenhauer è un sala
miste) (N&rr) insopportabile », scrive Bòhmer. « Questi filosofi
antitedeschi ed irreligiosi, dovrebbero « essere tutti quanti rinchiusi
pei bene comune, » Schopenhauer non menava una vita santa ed
ascetica, uè pretese die gli altri lo credessero. Egli sprezzava le
donne; considerava ibi more sessuale come una delle manifestazioni più
caratteristiche della volon¬ tà; tuttavia non era dissoluto. Sospirava
con Byron : «Più che vedo « gli uomini meno mi piacciono; tutto sarebbe
bene se potessi dire lo « stesso delle donne. » Egli differiva dagli uomini
ordinari, parlando di ciò che gli altri sopprimono. I suoi discepoli
troppo zelanti die cre¬ devano vedere qualcosa di divino in tutte le sue
azioni, trassero alla luce del giorno anche questi suoi discorsi e quindi
attirarono sul maestro un’imputazione che egli non ha mai meritata. Le idee di
Schopenhaner coincidevano con questa osservazione di Buddha ; « Non v ? è
pas- « sione più potente di quella dei sessi : di fronte a. questa
nessun’ultra «merita d’essere menzionata; se ve ne fosse un'altra di questa
forza, « per la carne non vi sarebbe più salute! » E di lì nacque senza
dubbio il timore di Sdì operili auer « di non poter raggiungere il Nirvana
», come egli disse con rincrescimento al dottor Grwinner. In
mezzo a questi trastulli leggeri colla bellezza femminile gli giunse ad
un tratto la notizia che V antica ditta di Danzi e a, in cui era
implicata gran parte della sua sostanza e tutta quella di sua madre, era
minacciata di bancarotta. Senza indugio si trasferì in Germania; ia perdita
del suo avere era il male che Schopenhauer temeva maggior- mente., il
male che egli sapeva di poter sopportare più difficilmente, tenuto
calcolo del suo temperamento. Egli non era adatto a guada' gnarsi il.
pane; la sua intelligenza non era di quelle che si possono dare in
affitto. L’indipendenza materiale che egli aveva ereditata gli parve
sempre uno dei più grandi beni della sua vita, dacché s ! era tutto dedicato a
suoi studi. Nei Par erga, sotto il titolo V on (lem was Einer hai , egli
scrive : Non. istimo indegno della mia penna di raccomandare hi cura
« della fortuna che si è acquistata per lavoro o per eredità. E 5 un van-
« faggio inapprezzabile il possedere fin da principio quanto occorre per
« vivere, sia anche solo e senza famiglia, comodamente ed in vera im.1L «
pendenza, c 1 o è se iiz a 1 avocar e ; quèsto stato rende huomn esente
ed « immune dalla privazione e quindi dalla servitù universale, sorte
caie ninne dei mortali. Colui soltanto che dal destino fu favorito in
questo « modo è veramente nato uomo libero, giacché soltanto egli è vwr
j.arix, « padrone del suo tempo e delle sue facoltà e può dire ogni
mattina ; il « giorno è mio. Per questa ragione la differenza tra colui
che hn mille ai a scudi d’entrata e colui clie ne La
centomila- è molto minore di quella « che corre tra il primo e colui che
non La nulla. La fortuna ereditari si « acquista un sommo valore, quando
cade in mano ad un uomo il quale, « dotato di capacità
intellettuali d’ordine elevato, segue tendenze in- « compatibili col
lavoro pel pane quotidiano. Tale uomo ricevette da! « destino un
doppio corredo e può vivere pel suo genio; ma egli coni¬ ti pensa cento
volte il debito contratto verso- V umanità, effettuando cosa « che nessun
altro potrebbe effettuare, e producendo qualcosa pel bene « ed anzi per V
onore comuni, TTn altro in questa condizione privile- « gìata con
tendenze filantropi eh e saprà meritarsi la gratitudine d elee l’umanità.
D’altra parte sarà un pigro spregevole colui che si tro¬ te va in
possesso d’ una fortuna ereditaria e non cerca in nessun modo, «
neppure acquistando a fondo qualche scienza, di rendersi utile all’umanità,
» a Questo ora- è riservato al più alto grado di perfezione iute
Ilei- ft tuale che noi al solito chiamiamo genio; il genio solo si occupa
escili- sivamente dell’esistenza e della natura delle cose, per poi
esprimere a i suoi concetti profondi, secondo la propria inclinazione,
per mezzo <* dell’arte, della poesia e della filosofia. Pei uno
spirito di questo ge- « nere il commercio non interrotto con sé stesso,
co’ suoi pensieri e colle « sue opere è un bisogno urgente. Ad esso è
cara la. solitudine, e l’ozio è il suo bene maggiore; il resto non gli è
indispensabile, anzi talvolta gli è gravoso. Di tal uomo soltanto possiamo dire
con ragione che « abbia in sé stesso il suo punto di gravità. Cosi si
spiega perchè queste « persone tanto rare, anche se hanno il miglior
carattere del mondo, « non mostrano per gli amici, per la famiglia e pel
bene comune quella a -simpatia ardente ed illimitata, di cui dispongono
tanti altri; giacche « dopo tutto possono consolarsi d’ogin cosa finché
hanno sé stessi* In « loro vive un elemento d'isolazione tanto più attivo
quanto meno gli «altri possano dar loro soddisfazione; questi altri uomini,
essi non li « considerano interamente come loro pan; e dal momento che
corniti- « ciano a vedere che tutto a loro è eterogeneo, prendono l’abitudine
di « camminare in mezzo agli nomi ni, come se questi fossero esseri da
loro « diversi; nei loro pensieri ne parlano come di terze persone,
dicendo: « essi, loro , e mai noi. « Tln uomo munito di questa ricchezza
interiore non chiede al mondo esterno nulla, all* infuori d'un dono negativo,
cioè la libertà di svilappare e di migliorare le sue facoltà intellettuali, di
godere la sua « ricchezza interiore, vale a dire di essere interamente a
sé in ogni gioì « no. in ogni ora e durante tutta la sua vita. Quando un uomo è
desti- « nato a lasciare l’impronta del suo intelletto all’intera razza umana,
« egli non può conoscere che una sola gioia, cioè quella di vedere le «
sue facolt-a riconosciute e di trovarsi in grado di compiere l’opera e
sua; oppure un rammarico e cioè d J esserne impedito. Ogni altra, cosa «
è insignificante ; e intatti troviamo clic in tutti i tempi le menti più
*; elevate abbiano pregiato sopra ogni altra cosa E ozio, ed il valore di
« quest'ozio equivale appunto al valore deli-uomo stesso. Volentieri
Schopenhauer cita questa massima di Mienstone: la libertà è un cordiale
più fortificante del Tokay, Pieno dei più cupi presentimenti egli
si portò con fretta in Germania, (tra zi
e alla sua energia e alla siili diffidenza d ogni prò Fessio- nej riuscì
a salvare la maggior parte della propria sostanza. Sua in mire non volle
prendere consiglio,, e quando venne la catastrofe finale essa ed Adele
rimasero quasi senza un centesimo, Questo incidente dimostra die
Schopenhauer non era filosofo (/truche e poco pratico; egli certamente
non avrebbe inciampalo, guardando cri ammirando le stelle ; al genio egli
univa il senso pratico, una combina¬ zione molto rara, la cui origine
egli faceva risalire a suo padre nego¬ ziante. Ed è questa qualità che fa
di Schopenhauer il vero filosofo pei bisogni d’ogrii giorno, lasciando da
parte il -suo pessimismo. Egli aveva vissuto nel mondo e non era uno di
quegli studiosi che vivono rinchiusi nel loro studio ; egli conosceva i bisogni
e le richieste del mondo i suoi aforismi ed assiomi non sono troppo
elevati per essere messi in pratica s oltreché sono esposti in linguaggio
chiaro ed intelligibile ed esprimono spesso le percezioni d’ogni mente
che pensa. Though man a tlilnkmg being is ci e fine d,
Few use thè great prerogative oi minti; How few thiiik jusUy
oì thè tliiriking few; II ow manv n e ver inmk, who think they
do. Sfortunata incute il loro numero è infinito ed a loro non
occorre nè filosofo, nè poeta, uè artista; ginstinti sono per loro nella
vita una guida sufficiente. Mario Casotti. Keywords: volere, sì che Socrate
si tramuti in Alcibiade! Grice: “And perhaps Socrates *becomes* Alcibiades!” die
welt as will –volere – filosofia fascista -- la volonta di potere, un invento della
sorella di Nietzsche che piaceva a Hitler ---- Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Grice e
Casotti” – The Swimming-Pool Library.
Grice e Castelli
Grice e Castrucci: l’implicatura
conversazionale del guerriero indo-germanico -- sul conferimento di valore –
filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza (Monterosso al Mare).
Filosofo italiano. Grice: “Castrucci is wrong.” Frequenta il liceo classico di
La Spezia, iscrivendosi quindi all'Firenze, dove si è formato negli studi
filosofico-giuridici e storico-giuridici alla scuola di Vallauri e di Grossi,
laureandosi in giurisprudenza. Ha ricoperto in quell'ateneo il ruolo di
ricercatore universitario di filosofia del diritto. A Firenze è entrato in
contatto per un breve periodo, pur senza aderirvi, con l'area di Autonomia Operaia
espressa all'epoca da Negri, con la cui consulenza ha scritto la sua tesi di
laurea (Tra Stato di diritto e pianificazione, Firenze). Insegna a Genova e Siena.
I suoi studi riguardano principalmente la filosofia politica e la storia delle
idee giuridiche, avendo come oggetto alcuni aspetti costitutivi della
dimensione contemporanea, tra i quali si possono ricordare: i presupposti
antropologici del politico; i fondamenti dello jus publicum europaeum, la
critica dell’ideologia dei diritti dell'uomo. La sua ricerca riguarda inoltre
le origini e le forme del pensiero giuridico europeo moderno, la ricostruzione
delle linee fondamentali della teoria dello Stato tedesca del primo XX secolo,
le radici giuridiche e teologiche della tradizione culturale dell'Occidente. C.
ne ha sviluppato autonomamente la concezione del manierismo politico nei propri
scritti sulla filosofia politica convenzionalista del XVII secolo. Nel corso
della sua ricerca ha approfondito in
particolar modo filoni di pensiero riconducibili alla rivoluzione conservatrice
europea, contribuendo inoltre alla diffusione nella giurisprudenza italiana del
nomos della terra, con cura editoriale dello storico della filosofia di Volpi e
di Legge e giudizio. Uno studio sul problema della prassi giudiziale. “Convenzione”,
“forma”, “potenza” sono i concetti chiave della riflessione filosofico-politica
europea di cui, nel suo analisi si ritrova tracciato lo sviluppo
storico-genealogico e vengono indagate le implicazioni teoriche. La convenzione,
o per meglio dire l’ordine giuridico convenzionale, è il concetto che
corrisponde al modo in cui la razionalità giuridica affronta il problema di un
ordine giuridico tecnico, artificiale, positivista, svincolato da quelle
premesse di valore di tipo teologico o metafisico o naturale che
avevano caratterizzato il diritto romano. Delinea in questo senso la
storia e la teoria di un ordine convenzionale (o artificiale e non naturale) nel
quadro della modernità matura, che dal Seicento barocco procede fino alla crisi
della cultura del primo Novecento. Accade in questo quadro che il primato
classico dell'idea filosofica di forma venga sostituito da quello, tipicamente
moderno, dell'idea di decisione. La decisione si contrappone così alla forma.
Confrontandosi con i campi diversi della filosofia politica, dell'etica e della
letteratura, l'analisi incontra figure significative di filosofi e scrittori
come Benjamin, Musil, Valéry. Il complesso apparentemente discorde delle loro
voci, che C. analizza, porta all'idea di una forma elaborata su basi rinnovate
rispetto all'impostazione “formalista” e “normativista” di ascendenza kantiana,
a lungo prevalente nel campo dell'estetica e della teoria del diritto.
Nello sviluppo storico e genealogico dell'idea metafisica di potenza si possono
infine riconoscere, secondo C., le linee di un'antropologia politica fondata su
basi individualistiche (potenza come acquisizione di spazio, ossia affermazione
individuale nella spazialità: Selbstbehauptung), che però non trascura il serio
problemaposto nel corso del Novecento dalla migliore dottrina costituzionale
tedescadel radicamento materiale e simbolico del singolo individuo nella
comunità politica di appartenenza (potenza come stabilizzazione, ossia
radicamento individuale e comunitario nella spazialità). Risulta evidente in tutto
ciò il riferimento all'idea schmittiana di Ortung, ossia localizzazione o
radicamento, elaborata da Schmitt, ma anche secondo quanto sostiene Castrucci all'idea
di potenza già rinvenibile nell'antropologia filosofica di Spinoza e di
Nietzsche. L'analisi di Castrucci muove più in generale dal proposito di
riconsiderare, seguendo il modello della lotta delle idee proprio della critica
della cultura, una serie di concreti problemi teorici su cui la cultura europea
aveva concentrato l'attenzione in un passato non troppo lontano, per poi
distoglierla "nell'inseguimento di una discutibile attualità". Tra
questi problemi particolare rilievo tematico acquistano, nel discorso
filosofico di C., la ricerca di un'etica fondata su basi epistemologiche
convenzionaliste, l'approfondimento delle implicazioni politiche presenti nel
pensiero di autori classici della filosofia tedesca come Schopenhauer,
Nietzsche, Heidegger e Cassirer, la critica radicale delle tesi di autori più
recenti come Habermas, nonché infine la questione cruciale delle linee virtuali
di costruzione di un mito politico nell'età del nichilismo compiuto. Hanno
suscitato polemiche alcuni suoi tweet, a partire da uno col quale si riferiva a
figure storiche naziste come Hitler ritratto col il cane Blondi e il commento
di C. "Vi hanno detto che sono stato un mostro per non farvi sapere che ho
combattuto contro i veri mostri che oggi vi governano dominando il mondo" e
Corneliu Zelea Codreanu, fondatore della Guardia di Ferro; dopo la diffusione
di questo tweet, ne sono stati portati in evidenza altri, ritenuti di matrice
filonazista, razzista e antisemita,nonché presunti insulti nei riguardi del
Presidente della Repubblica Sergio Mattarella e dell'ex Presidente della Camera
Laura Boldrini. Replica affermando di aver semplicemente espresso un giudizio
storico personale avvalendosi, al di fuori della sua attività didattica, del
principio di libertà di pensiero e successivamente, in una memoria difensiva
dei suoi avvocati, di non aver mai aderito ad alcuna ideologia nazista, ma di essere
un libero pensatore, sottolineando inoltre come la propria critica, volutamente
provocatoria e paradossale, andasse piuttosto intesa come indirizzata contro la
grande speculazione finanziaria, con esplicito riferimento alla lotta contro la
finanza speculativa, l'usura e il signoraggio bancario di Pound. Il suo account
è stato chiuso. Il 2 dicembre il rettore dell'Università degli Studi di Siena
Francesco Frati ha preso le distanze da C., annunciando di aver "dato
mandato agli uffici di attivare i provvedimenti conseguenti alla gravità del
caso" e, successivamente, di aver presentato un esposto in procura dopo
aver ravvisato "un profilo di illegalità" nelle parole del docente,
ipotizzando il reato di odio razziale con l'aggravante di negazionismo. Dopo la
sospensione, C. non si è presentato alla Commissione disciplinare dell'ateneo
dichiarandola non legittimata a giudicare sul suo caso, mentre l'iter
procedurale che avrebbe potuto condurre al licenziamento è stato bloccato in
seguito alla richiesta di pensionamento presentata dal professore stesso. L'inchiesta
penale è stata affidata per motivi di competenza alla procura di La Spezia. Ordine
convenzionale e pensiero decisionista, Milano, Giuffrè); Tra organicismo e
"Rechtsidee". Il pensiero giuridico di Erich Kaufmann, Milano, Giuffrè
Editore); La forma e la decisione, Milano, Giuffrè); Considerazioni
epistemologiche sul conferimento di valore, Firenze, S. Gallo); Introduzione
alla filosofia del diritto pubblico di Schmitt, Torino, Giappichelli); Hume e
la proprietà, Siena, Università degli Studi di Siena. Dipartimento di scienze
storiche, giuridiche, politiche e sociali, Convenzione, forma, potenza. Scritti
di storia delle idee e di filosofia giuridico-politica, Milano, Giuffre); Schopenhauer
filosofo del diritto, Siena, Università degli Studi di Siena. Dipartimento di
scienze storiche, giuridiche, politiche e sociali); Ricognizioni. Quattro studi
di critica della cultura, Firenze, S. Gallo); Lezioni di filosofia del diritto,
Roma, Aracne Editrice); Per una critica del potere giudiziario. Sugli articoli
101 e 104/1 della Costituzione, Firenze); Profilo di storia del pensiero
giuridico, Firenze); Per una critica dell'ideologia dei diritti dell'uomo,
Firenze); Nomos e guerra, Napoli, La Scuola di Pitagora); Il regime giuridico
delle situazioni d'eccezione, Firenze); Le radici antropologiche del politico,
Soveria Mannelli, Rubbettino Editore); La teoria indoeuropea delle tre funzioni
in Dumézil e altri saggi, Milano, Giuffrè Francis Lefebvre); La forma giuridica:
Concetto e contesti. Tre studi di filosofia del diritto, Napoli, La scuola di
Pitagora); Individualismo e assolutismo. Aspetti della teoria politica europea
prima di Thomas Hobbes, C., Milano, Giuffrè Editore); Carl Schmitt, Il nomos
della terra, Franco Volpi, traduzione di Emanuele Castrucci, Milano, Adelphi); Il
nomos della terra, Franco Volpi; Milano, Adelphi); Legge e giudizio. Uno studio
sul problema della prassi giudiziale, C., Milano, Giuffre). Le radici
antropologiche del 'politico' (Soveria Mannelli, Rubbettino); La ricerca del
Nomos, in Il Nomos della terra nel diritto internazionale dello “jus publicum
europaeum”, Adelphi, Milano); Retorica dell'universale: Una critica a Habermas,
in Filosofia politica, Mulino); Dai diritti individuali ai diritti umani: un
totalitarismo in costruzione. Alcuni spunti in margine ad un recente scritto di
Castrucci, in Il Politico, Università degli studi di Pavia; Itinerari della
forma giuridica. Studi sulla dottrina dello Stato tedesca del primo Novecento,
Milano, Giuffrè); Ordine convenzionale e
pensiero decisionista. Saggio sui presupposti intellettuali dello Stato moderno
nel Seicento francese, Milano, Giuffre); La forma e la decisione” (Milano, Giuffrè);
Ordine convenzionale e pensiero decisionista. Saggio sui presupposti
intellettuali dello Stato moderno; La forma e la decisione; Convenzione, forma,
potenza: storia delle idee e di filosofia giuridico-politica, Milano, Giuffrè).
HOMO ABSCONDITUS L’IDEOLOGIA TRI PARTITA DEGLI INDOEUROPEI
il Cerchio Iniziative editoriali L'IDEOLOGIA TRIPARTITA
DEGLI INDOEUROPEI costituisce una sintesi completa ed accessibile degli
studi di Dumézil. che hanno rivoluzionato la nostra conosceza delle
anti¬ che civiltà euro-asiatiche. La struttura fondamentale
del pensiero religioso e sociale delle popolazioni uscite dalla comune
radice indoeuro¬ pea. dallTrlanda allTndia, la tripartizione sociale in
Sacerdoti. Guerrieri e Contadini che è presente nelle origini di
Roma così come nei miti iranici, germanici e celti, si rivela essere
lo specchio di un'armonia divina, in cui gli stessi dèi sono così
suddivisi, clas¬ sificati e diversamente adorati. È la
dimostrazione di come, nelle ci¬ viltà tradizionali, anche l'aspetto
sociale e politico dipenda radicalmente dalla dimensione
mitico-religiosa. e il mondo del divino diviene l’archetipo che dà
forma a tutta la società degli uomini. DUMÉZIL è una
figura fondamentale nel panorama culturale europeo. Filologo
e storico, nel ‘900 ha riav¬ viato gli studi attorno alla civiltà
indoeuropea nelle grandi civiltà precristiane: Roma. l'India. l'Iran, la
Grecia, le popolazioni celtiche e germaniche. Ha lasciato una
bibliografia sterminata, solo parzialmente tradotta in italiano,
fra cui ricordiamo almeno La religione ro¬ mana arcaica, Gli Dèi
dei Germani, Mito ed Epopea e Gli Dèi sovrani degli
Indoeuropei. HOMO ABSCONDITUS Dumézil L’ideologia
tripartita degli Indoeuropei Con un saggio introduttivo
di RlES il Cerchio Iniziative editoriali L'idéologie
tripartie des Indo-Européens, Bruxelles Sigillo del re ittita Tarkummuwa, re di
Mera. Walters Art Museum, Baltimora. II Cerchio Srl La
riscoperta del pensiero religioso indoeuropeo L’opera magistrale di Dumézil.
Calmette rinvenne i primi due Li bri dei Veda, u n documento coni p
letamente sco nosciuto i n occidente, e i preziosi manoscritti giunsero nella
Biblioteca Reale di Parigi. Davanti all’Asiatic Society of Bengala,
Jones pronuncia un dotto discorso in cui dimostrò l’esistenza di una
lingua comune, madre del sanscrito e del greco. Eccoci alle soglie della
riscoperta del pensiero indoeuropeo. Il primo dossier indoeuropeo
Il XIX secolo riprese i lavori di questi pionieri e cercò di com¬
piere nuove scoperte sul pensiero asiatico. Ricercando i documenti
dell’antica mitologia germanica caduti nell’oblio dopo la conversione dei
Germani al Cristianesimo, gli storici tedeschi tentarono di tornare alle
origini spingendosi nei dominii dell’India e dell’Iran. Particolar¬ mente
due pubblicazioni provocarono grande risonanza: la prima è la celebre
opera di Creuzer Simbolik
undMvlhologie der altea Vòfker , tradotto in francese nel 1825; infine
nel 1810 J.J. Gòrres pubblicò il suo Mythengeschichle der asiatischen
Welt, in cui questo precursore del romanticismo religioso cercò di d
imostrare che i miti dell’India, dell’Iran e della Grecia veicolavano una
dottrina comune su Dio, l’Anima e l’immortalità. Sulla scia dei
loro maestri i mitografi romantici si lanciarono alla ricerca delle prime
idee religiose dell’infanzia umana. Oltre a ciò questa corrente si occupò
dell’espressione e delle modalità di trasmis¬ sione del messaggio
religioso sin dalle origini dell’umanità. A questa corrente
romantica si oppose la ricerca storica e filologica, rappresentata da Miiller,
da Bopp, da Chézy e da tutta la linea degli specialisti in filologia comparata
che studiarono scientificamente i testi dei Veda e dell’Avesta per
familiarizzarsi col pensiero dell’India e dell’Iran antichi. Tra questi
ricercatori Miiller occupa un posto di primaria importanza. Specializzatosi in
sanscrito, in grammatica comparata ed in filosofia del mito ad Oxford,
istituì una Cattedra divenuta celebre: egli credette che la filologia
comparata fos se la chiave che avrebbe permesso di aprire le porte della storia
delle religioni. Ai suoi occhi la lingua è un testimone autentico del
pensiero. Miiller sostenne che in origine l’uomo ha agito, e per
descrivere i suoi atti inventò il linguaggio. Da allora i miti non sono
altro che la personi¬ ficazione degli oggetti e delle azioni che 1 ’uomo
ha dovuto esprimere e descrivere. Continuando le sue ricerche
in direzione delle origini, Miiller tradusse i Veda, testo in cui credeva
di trovare il primo pensiero indo-europeo e la chiave della religione degli
antichi Ariani. Così secon¬ do il nostro Autore i poemi vedici sarebbero
la fonte del pensiero religioso dei Persiani, dei Greci e dei Romani. La gemma
tra le ricerche di Miiller è rappresentata dalla pubblicazione dei Sacred
Books of thè Easl (che potè terminare prima della propria morte,
la¬ sciando così agli studiosi occidentali una vera summa dei libri
sacri dell’antica Asia. Il dossier indoeuropeo del XIX secolo è già
abbastanza ricco: scoperta della corrispondenze all’interno del
vocabolario delle lingue indoeuropee; presentimento dell’esistenza di una
cultura arcaica ariana come pure di una civiltà comune alle diverse
popolazioni. Frazer tentò d’intraprendere un vasto studio comparato at¬
torno al mito romano della morte rituale ed al mito nordico del dio
Balder. Tutta la sua opera, The Golden Bough cerca di delineare una sintesi di
questa mitologia, ma le sue conclusio¬ ni sono deludenti.
Dopo una prima esplorazione, condotta secondo il metodo frazeriano,
Dumézil abbandonò questa via della regalità sacra per volgersi verso la
linguistica e la filologia comparata. Le sue guide furono A. Meillet e J.
Vendryes. In un articolo intitolato Les correspondances de vocabulaire
enlre l ’indo-iranien et Titalo-celtique (in «Mémoires de la Société
Linguistique»), Vendryes ha sottoli¬ neato le corrispondenze esistenti
tra parole indo-iraniche da una parte ed italo-celtiche dall’altra. Si
tratta di termini relativi al culto, al sacrificio ed alla religione, c vi sono
anche parole mistiche relative all’effi¬ cacia degli atti sacri, alla
purezza rituale, all’esattezza dei riti, all’of¬ ferta fatta agli dèi,
all’accettazione di questa da patte degli dèi, alla protezione divina ed
alla santità. Questa scoperta fu molto importante, poiché dimostra
l’esistenza di una comunanza di termini religiosi presso i popoli che in
seguito sarebbero divenuti gli Indiani, gli Iranici, gli Italici ed i
Celti. La permanenza di questo vocabolario religioso alle due estremità
del mondo indoeuropeo, in India ed in Iran, nella Gallia ed in Italia, è
un dato molto significativo, benché la scomparsa di questo vocabolario
presso popoli come i Germani e gli Scandinavi non abbia mancato di
incuriosire Vendryes. Riflettendo, egli ha consta¬ tato che questi
termini religiosi si sono mantenuti presso quei popoli clic disponevano
di collegi sacerdotali influenti: i brahmani, i sacerdoti avestici, i druidi,
il Pontìfex romano. E dunque il sacerdozio a conservare e trasmettere
questo vocabolario grazie ai rituali ed alla liturgia, ai testi sacri ed
alle preghiere. Siamo in presenza di una testimonianza preziosa c di una
fonte importante clic ci conduce ad una conclusione decisiva: il mondo
indoeuropeo arcaico disponeva di concetti religiosi identici clic
veicolava grazie ad un linguaggio comune. 3. La scoperta
dell’eredità indoeuropea Alla luce delle ricerche dì Vendryes, Dumézil
ha compreso quale orientamento imprimere ai propri lavori. Al termine di
vent’anni di studio egli doveva trovare la chiave che gli permise di
penetrare gli arcani del pensiero religioso indoeuropeo arcaico. La
pubblicazio¬ ne de L'idéologie tripartie des Indo-Européens è il compimento
di una lunga marcia ed il punto di partenza per tutte le scoperte
.successive. L’esame del problema flamen-brahman c dei flamini maggiori a
Roma condusse Dumézil ad una conclusione decisiva: «/ più antichi
Romani, gli Umbri, avevano portato con toro in Italia la stessa
concezione conosciuta dagli Indo-Iranici e su cui noto¬ riamente gli
Indiani avevano fondato il loro ordine sociale »' Era la scoperta e
la messa a fuoco di un’eredità indoeuropea, di una ideologia funzionale e
gerarchizzata, alla sommità della quale si trova la sovranità religiosa c
giuridica, seguita dalla forza fisica che s’incama nella guerra, mentre
al terzo livello si situa la fecondi- tà-fertil ità, sottomessa alla
sovranità ed alla forza ma indispensabile al loro mantenimento c
sviluppo. Munito di questa griglia di lettura lo studioso francese si c
avventurato nello studio di tutta la documenta¬ zione disponibile. Si
tratta di uno studio comparativo il cui oggetto c il dato indoeuropeo.
Durante il III c II millennio a.C. delle bande di conquistatori si
spostarono verso l’Atlantico, il Mediterraneo c l’Asia. Le loro parlate
erano fatte di diversi dialetti provenienti da una lingua comune, il che
suppone un fondo intellettuale e morale identico, ed un minimo di civiltà
comune. Popoli senza scrittura, gli Indoeuropei hanno lasciato pochi
documenti. Solo gli Hittiti, stabilitisi in Anatolia all’inizio del II
millennio a.C., hanno adottato una scrittura cuneiforme che consentì loro
di conservare degli archivi. Ma ciò che c notevole c la persistenza del
vocabolario religioso legato all’organizzazione sociale, alle prati¬ che
cultuali ed ai comportamenti religiosi. Parecchi fatti presuppon¬ gono
l’esistenza di una religione che rappresenta una dottrina coerente, una
spiegazione del cosmo, una concezione dell’origine, del presente c del
futuro. DUMÉZIL, Mythe et epopèe I. L 'idéologie des troisfunctions dans
les épopees despeuple indo-européens, Gallimard, Paris 1968, p. 15
(Trad. italiana, Einaudi, Torino 1982 - NdT) Volendo spiegare
quest’eredità e la sua struttura, Dumézil ha elaborato il proprio metodo
comparativo, che lui stesso chiama «genetico)}. La prima fase del lavoro
consiste nel mettere in evidenza delle corrispondenze precise e
sistematiche, che permettano di tracciare uno schema del rituale: miti,
riti, significati logici ed articolazioni essenziali. Questo schema viene
proiettato nella preistoria, al fine di comprendere la curva
dell’evoluzione religiosa. Possedendo delle corrispondenze precise,
sistematiche e numerose, lo storico delle civiltà e lo storico delle religioni
procedono per induzione in direzione delle origini. Utilizzando i dati
dell’archeologia, della mitologia, della filologia, della sociologia,
della liturgia e della teologia arcaica, lo storico giunge a comprendere le
grandi linee del pensiero di questi popoli e la loro evoluzione, sino
alle soglie della storia. Grazie a questo lavoro lungo ed arduo si è riusciti a
stabilire un’archeologia del comporta¬ mento e delle
rappresentazioni. Dumézil non ha preteso di resuscitare la
religione degli Indoeuropei come venne vissuta nei tempi preistorici. Si
è accontentato piuttosto di delineare lo schema concettuale delle società
collegate tra loro nello sviluppo della storia, e si è servito di questi
schemi per giun¬ gere a spiegare i testi ed i fatti che resistevano ad
ogni spiegazione. Nelle civiltà indoeuropee il nostro autore trova
una struttura sociale articolata in tre funzioni. Sono queste i tre varna
dell’India: i brdhmana, sacerdoti incaricati del sacrificio e custodi
della scienza sacra; gli ksatriya, guerrieri incaricati della protezione
del popolo; i vaisya, produttori dei beni materiali, del nutrimento.
Secondo il Rg-Vecla (Vili, 35) queste tre «caste» sono molto antiche. In
Iran l 'Avesta menziona tre gruppi di uomini: sacerdoti o àQaitrvan;
guer¬ rieri, i radaci.star montatori di carri; gli agricoltori-allevatori,
chiamati vàstryò.fsuycmt. Una struttura identica ha lasciato tracce presso
gli Sciti ed i loro discendenti, gli Osseti del Caucaso, e presso i Celti
ed i loro druidi, la loro aristocrazia militare ed i loro boairig, gli
allevatori DUMÉZIL, L ’heritage des indo-curopéens à Rome, Gallimard,
Paris di buoi. L’analisi delle origini di Roma condotta da Dumézil si è
riveata particolarmente illuminante. Queste tre funzioni sono
attività fondamentali e indispensabili per la vita normale della
comunità. La prima funzione, quella del sa¬ cro, regola i rapporti degli
uomini fra loro e sotto la garanzia degli dèi, determina il potere del re
e traccia i limiti della scienza, inseparabile dalla manipolazione delle
cose sacre. La seconda funzione, quella re¬ lativa alla forza fisica,
interviene nella conquista, nell’organizzazione della società e nella sua
difesa. La terza ricopre un vasto ambito, quel¬ lo della sussistenza
degli uomini e della conservazione della società: fecondità animale ed
umana, nutrimento, ricchezza e salute. Dumézil ha dimostrato che la
società indoeuropea era governata in profondità grazie ad una mentalità
fondata su una struttura trifunzionale. La teologia si trova al
centro del mondo indoeuropeo. Una delle grandi prove di ciò è la lista
degli dèi ariani di Mitanni trovata su una tavoletta a Bogazkòy, l’antica
Hattusa, capitale dell’impero hittita. Scoperta nel 1907, questa
tavoletta contiene il testo di un trattato concluso nel 1380 a.C. tra il re
hittita Supilulliuma ed il redi Mitanni chia¬ mato Matiwaza. Come garanti
della loro alleanza ognuno dei re invo¬ ca i propri dèi: il re di Mitanni
invoca gli dèi considerati i protettori della società ariana:
Mithra-Varuna, India e i Nasatya. Sono gli dèi delle tre funzioni che
ritroviamo in India ed in Iran. In quest’ultimo paese è la riforma di
Zarathustra e la formulazione delle sei entità divi¬ ne - gli Immortali
Benefici - che illustra in maniera illuminante questa teologia
strutturata su tre piani ed articolata in tre funzioni. Dai
Mitanni, dall’India e dall’Iran Dumézil è pervenuto all’Ita¬ lia ove ha
rilevato la triade Jun-Lart-Vofiono a Iguvium (Gubbio) in Umbria ed a
Roma la triade precapitolina Juppiter-Mars-Quirinus. Questi dati
indicano chiaramente che l’ideologia è correlata ad una teologia delle
tre funzioni. Nell’India vedica ciò comporta un’associazione di tre
coppie di dèi stabiliti su tre livelli: gli dèi Mitra e Varuna, signori
del primo livello, si dividono la sovranità di questo mondo e dell’altro:
Indra, scortato dai Marut, un battaglione di giova¬ ni guerrieri,
proclama l’esuberanza e la vittoria; i NàsaLya o Asvin sono distributori
di salute, fecondità, abbondanza in uomini ed armen¬ ti; si tratta dunque
di una teologia tripartita. Il documento di Hattusadel 1380 a.C. ci
mostra che questa teo¬ logia è anteriore alla redazione dei Veda e che fa
parte della tradizione ariana arcaica; d’altra parte, la presenza dello
schema trifunzionale nella teologia di Zarathustra ed il suo riflesso
sugli «Arcangeli» raggruppati intomo al dio supremo Ahura Mazda conferma
l’attacca¬ mento ad una struttura di pensiero ariano sia presso i
sacerdoti che i popoli dell’Iran antico. La stessa eredità teologica si
rinviene anche in Italia, presso i Celti, i Germani e gli
Scandinavi. Conclusioni E stato necessario tutto il XIX
secolo per costituire il dossier indoeuropeo. Il merito di Georges Dumézil c
stato quello di aver consa¬ crato un 'intera vita all’interpretazione di
questa documentazione. Egli ha iniziato il suo cammino sulla scia di Max
Miillcr c di James Frazer: una ricerca di equazioni nell’onomastica
relativa al dominio del culto e delle divinità. Le corrispondenze all’interno
del vocabolario del sa¬ cro, dei popoli indo-iranici da una parte c di
quelli italo-ccltici dall’al¬ tra, hanno fornito allo studioso l’idea di
studiare più a fondo i paralleli attorno alle divinità ed ai sacerdoti,
poiché questi popoli sono i soli tra gli indoeuropei ad aver conservato
per molti secoli i loro collegi sacerdotali. Questa nuova via fu
illuminante, poiché ha condotto alla sco¬ perta di un’eredità indoeuropea
ancora visibile agli inizi della storia dei popoli italici, celtici,
iranici cd indiani. L’assenza di vestigia ar¬ cheologiche concrete ha
costretto Dumézil a mettere a punto un meto¬ do comparativo genetico
fondato sull’archeologia delle rappresenta¬ zioni c del comportamento:
servendosi dei miti, dei riti, delle tracce dell’organizzazione sociale,
delle vestigia del sacro c del sacerdozio egli ha potuto individuare i
meccanismi - c gli equilibri costitutivi - della società e della
religione indoeuropea: una teologia trifunzionale che divide il mondo
divino in dèi della sovranità, dèi della forza e dei della fecondità. A
questa teologia corrisponde la tripartizione sociale: classe sacerdotale,
guerrieri, agricoltori-allevatori. Mezzo secolo di ricerche
hanno permesso di delineare questa visione nuova del mondo ariano
arcaico, di realizzare una sintesi delle vestigia della civiltà e della religione
indoeuropea e di far indietreg¬ giare di più d’un millennio i lempora
ignota. Julien Ries Università di Louvaìn-la-Neuve
Nelle pagine che seguono non una sola volta si farà menzione de\V habitat
degli Indoeuropei, delle vie delle loro migrazioni, della loro civiltà
materiale. Su questi punti così dibattuti il metodo qui im¬ piegato non
ha presa e d’altra parte la loro soluzione non interessa molto i problemi
qui posti. La «civiltà indoeuropea» che noi conside¬ reremo è quella
dello spirito. Al pari degli Indiani vedici, come ci vengono
presentati dai loro inni, gli Indoeuropei non furono uomini senza
riflessione e senza im¬ maginazione, tutt’altro. Esattamente da vent’anni
ormai la comparazione delle più antiche tradizioni, dei diversi popoli parlanti
lingue in¬ doeuropee, ha rivelato un fondo considerevole di elementi
comuni, elementi non isolati ma organizzati in strutture complesse delle
quali non ci è offerto un equivalente in altri popoli del mondo
antico. L'esposizione, che ci si appresta a leggere, è consacrata alla
più importante di queste strutture. L’obiettivo essenziale è quello
di guidare lo studente, tramite una serie di riassunti ordinati e
consequenziali, attraverso una mole di argomenti poco agevoli a causa
della loro eterogeneità e del loro frazionamento. Nello stesso
tempo si vorrebbe fornire ai lettori già informati una prima e
provvisoria sintesi, si vorrebbe dare non solo un ordine ma una messa a
fuoco alla correlazione generale che solo uno sguardo d’insieme può
imporre ai risultati parziali. Un problema che per anni è stato
capitale e in primo piano - penso al valore trifunzionale delle tre tribù
romane primitive - si trova qui limitato in un secondo livello; al
contrario, le numerose applicazioni ideologiche delle tre funzioni, le cui
segnalazioni si trovano disperse nelle pubblicazioni più svariate,
acquisteranno ora, io spero, potenza grazie ad un parallelismo che farà
risaltare il loro semplice riavvicina¬ mento. Questo doppio
disegno non prevederànote a piè di pagina: si è preferito costruire una
sorta di commentario bibliografico distribuito secondo i paragrafi del
libro, indicando i testi affinché ognuno riepilo¬ ghi o perfezioni a
proprio piacimento; oppure segnando c datando su ogni punto importante i
progressi o le svolte della ricerca; o ancora, rinviando ad altri paragrafi
per segnalare correlazioni che non avrebbero potuto ingombrare l’esposizione
discorsiva iniziale. Non si è tenuto conto che dell’opera
principale dell’autore e di un certo numero di colleghi francesi e
stranieri che, pur senza voler formare una scuola, si dedicano da più o
meno tempo alle stesse mate¬ rie con metodi simili e che si tengono
costantemente in contatto tra loro. Altre visioni sul
pensiero degli indoeuropei, incompatibili con questa, non saranno qui
esaminate, non per disprezzo ma perché le di¬ mensioni del presente libro
sono ristrette e l’intento è costruttivo e non critico.
Tuttavia, nelle note finali si troveranno riferimenti a numerose
discussioni. Il mio caro collega Renard mi ha permesso di
presentare nella collezione Latomus, poco tempo dopo Les Déesses latines,
que¬ sta nuova esposizione in cui il popolo romano non interviene che
prò virili parte. Egli ha così voluto confermare, sensibilmente ai
nostri studi, cd io lo ringrazio, la necessaria alleanza tra studi
classici e indoeuropei, tra metodi filologici e comparativi, che ho sempre
invocato con augurio. Uppsala. Parigi. Le tre funzioni
sociali e cosmiche 1. Le classi sociali in India Uno
dei tratti più sorprendenti delle società indiane post-rgve- diche è la
loro divisione sistematica in quattro «classi», dette in san¬ scrito i
quattro «colori», varna, le prime tre delle quali benché diverse sono
pure perché propriamente arya, mentre la quarta, formala indub¬ biamente
dai vinti della conquista arya, è sottomessa alle altre tre ed è quindi
irrimediabilmente impura. Di quesl’ultima classe eterogenea non si
Lralterà qui ulteriormente. I doveri di ognuna delle tre classi
arya servono per definirle: i brdhmana, sacerdoti, studiano ed insegnano
la scienza sacra e cele¬ brano i sacrifici; gli ksatriya (o rdjanya), i
guerrieri, proteggono il po¬ polo con la loro forza e con le loro armi;
ai vaisya è affidato l’alle¬ vamento e l’aratura, il commercio e più in
generale la produzione dei beni materiali. Si costituisce così
una società completa e armonica presieduta da un personaggio a parte, il
re, rdjan, generalmente nato e qualitativa¬ mente estratto dal secondo
livello. Questi gruppi funzionali e gerarchizzati sono conchiusi
tutti su loro stessi in base all’ereditarietà, all’endogamia e a un
codice rigoro¬ so d’interdizioni. Sotto questa forma classica non vi è
dubbio che il sistema non sia una creazione propriamente indiana posteriore
alla maggior parte del Riveda-, i nomi delle classi non sono
menzionati chiaramente che nell’inno del sacrificio deH’Uomo Primordiale,
nel X libro della raccolta, così differente da tutti gli altri. Ma una
tale crea¬ zione non è nata dal nulla, bensì da un irrigidimento di una
dottrina e di una pratica sociale preesistente. Nel 1940 uno studioso
indiano, V.M. Apte, fece una collezione dimostrativa dei lesti dei primi
nove libri del Riveda (principalmente Vili, 35, 16-18) che provano come
sin dai tempi della redazione di questi inni la società fosse pensata
composta da sacerdoti, guerrieri e allevatori e che se questi gruppi non
erano an¬ cora designati dai nomi di brdhmunu, di ksatriya o di vaisya
(sostanti¬ vi astratti, nomi di nozioni di cui i nomi di questi uomini
non sono che i derivati) erano già composti in un sistema gerarchico che
definiva di¬ stributivamente i principi delle tre attività. Brc'ihmun (al
neutro) «scienza e utilizzazione delle correlazioni mistiche tra le parti
del rea¬ le visibile o invisibile», kyatrei «potenza», vis «contadinanza»
o «habi¬ tat organizzalo» (la parola c apparentala al latino vTcus e al
greco (w)oùco<;), al plurale visuh «insieme del popolo nel suo
raggruppa¬ mento sociale e locale». È impossibile determinare
in quale misura la pratica si confor¬ masse a questa struttura teorica:
vi era forse una parte più o meno con¬ siderevole della società che
indifferenziata o altrimenti classificata sfuggiva a QUESTA
TRIPARTIZIONE? L’ereditarietà all’interno di ciascuna classe non era
forse corretta nei suoi effetti da un regime matrimoniale più flessibile
c con delle possibilità di promozione? Sfortunatamente ci è accessibile
solo la teoria. 2. Le classi sociali avestiche Da un
quarto di secolo, confermando le osservazioni di F. Spie- gel, di E.
Benvenisle e di me stesso, abbiamo sostenuto che almeno nella sua forma
ideologica la tripartizione sociale era una concezione già acquisita
prima della divisione degli «Indo-Iranici» in Indiani da una parte ed
Iranici dall’altra. In diversi passaggi VA vesta menziona i
componenti della socie¬ tà come gruppi di uomini o di classi (designate
da una parola che si ri¬ ferisce al colore, pistra): i sacerdoti,
àBuurvan o uBravun (cf. uno dei sacerdoti vedici, Vdtharvan), i
guerrieri, luBciè.star («guidatori di carri», cf. il vedico rathe-sthà epiteto
del dio guerriero Indra) e gli agri¬ coltori-allevatori,
vàstryó.fsuyant. Un solo passaggio avestico e più notoriamente i
testi palliavi, pongono come quarto termine alla base di questa
gerarchia, gli artigia¬ ni, huiti, altri indizi (come il fatto che
raggruppamenti triplici di nozio¬ ni sono talvolta messi maldestramente
in rapporto con le quattro clas¬ si, cf. SBE, V, p. 357) ci portano a
considerarla una aggiunta a un antico sistema ternario. Nel X
secolo della nostra èra il poeta persiano Ferdusi, fedele testimone della
tradizione, racconta come il favoloso re Jamsed (lo Yima Xsaéla dell’A
vesta) istituì gerarchicamente queste classi: se¬ parò inizialmente dal
resto del popolo gli *asravctn «assegnando loro le montagne per
celebrarvi il loro culto, per consacrarsi al servizio di¬ vino e restare
nella luminosa dimora »; gli *artesfar, posti dall’altra parte,
«combattono come dei leoni, brillano alla testa delle armate e delle
province, grazie a loro il trono regale è protetto e la gloria del valore
è mantenuta »; quanto ai *vùstryós, la terza classe, « loro stessi arano,
piantano e raccolgono; di ciò che mangiano nessuno li rimpro¬ vera, non
sono servi benché vestiti di stracci e il loro orecchio è sordo alla calunnia».
A differenza dell’India le società iraniche non hanno irrigidito
questa concezione in un regime castale: esso sembra essere rimasto un
modello, un ideale e un comodo mezzo per analizzare ed enunciare
l’essenzialità dell’argomento sociale. Dal punto di vista della ideolo¬
gia in cui noi ci poniamo, questo è sufficiente. Un ramo aberrante della
famiglia iranica, molto importante poi¬ ché si è sviluppato non in Iran
ma a nord del Mar Nero, fuori dalla mor¬ sa degli imperi, iranici o
altri, che si sono succeduti nel Vicino Orien¬ te, testimonianello stesso
senso: sono gli Sciti - i cui costumi insieme a molte leggende ci sono
noli grazie ad Erodoto e a qualche altro autore antico - la cui lingua e
tradizione si è mantenuta sino ai nostri giorni grazie a un piccolo
popolo del Caucaso centrale, originale e pieno di vitalità, gli
Osseti. Secondo Erodoto (IV, 5-6) ecco come gli Sciti
raccontano l’origine della loro nazione: 17
«Il primo uomo che comparve nel loro paese, prima di allora
deserto, si chiamava Targitaos, che si diceva figlio di Zeus e di una fi¬
glia del fiume Boriysthene (il Dniepr attuale)... Lui stesso ebbe tre fi¬
gli, Lipoxais (variante Nitoxais), Arpoxais e in ultimo Kolaxais. Quando
erano in vita caddero dal cielo sulla terra Scizia degli oggetti d’oro:
un carro, un giogo, un’ascia e una coppa (apoxpóv xe mi t/uyòv mi
cràyapiv mi (piàÀT|v). A questa vista il più anziano si af¬ frettò a
prenderli ma quando arrivò l ’oro si mise a bruciare. Così si ri¬ tirò e
il secondo si fece avanti ma senza migliore successo. Avendo i primi due
rinunciato all 'oro bruciante, sopraggiunse il terzo e l ’oro si spense.
Lo prese con sé e i suoi due fratelli, davanti a questo segno,
abbandonarono la regalità interamente all'ultimogenito. Da Lipoxa¬ is
sono nati quegli Sciti che sono chiamati la tribù (yévoq) degli Aukh-
atai; da Arpoxais quelle dette Katiaroi e Traspies (variante: Trapies,
Trapioi) e in ultimo, dal re, quelle dette Paralatai; ma tutte insieme si
chiamano Skolotoi, dal nome del loro re » Mi sembra certo che
bisogna, al pari di E. Benveniste, rendere yévoq con «tribù». Gli Sciti
contano quattro tribù, una delle quali è la tribù capo. Ma tutte hanno
realmente o idealmente la stessa struttura: è chiaro infatti che questi
quattro oggetti si riferiscono alle tre attività sociali degli Indiani e
degli «Iranici deH’Iran»; il carro e il giogo (E. Benveniste ha
analizzato un composto avestico che associa queste due parti della
meccanica dell’aratura) evocano l’agricoltura; l’ascia era con l’arco l’arma
nazionale degli Sciti; altre tradizioni scitiche conser¬ vate da Erodoto,
come pure l’analogia coi dati indo-iranici conosciuti, incoraggiano a
vedere nella coppa lo strumento e il simbolo delle of¬ ferte cultuali e
delle bevande sacre. La forma ben distinta che Quinto Curzio (VII,
8, 18-19) dà alla tradizione, conferma questa esegesi funzionale; egli fa
dire agli amba¬ sciatori degli Sciti che cercavano di convincere
Alessandro Magno a non attaccarli: «Sappi che abbiamo
ricevuto dei doni: un giogo per buoi, un carro, una lancia, una freccia e
una coppa (iugum bovum, aratrum, hasta, sagitta et patera). Ce ne
serviamo con i nostri amici e contro i nostri nemici. Ai nostri amici
doniamo i frutti della terra che ci procu- 18
ra il lavoro dei buoi; con essi offriamo agli dèi libagioni di vino;
quan¬ to ai nostri nemici, li attacchiamo da lontano con la freccia e da
vicino con la lancia». 4. La famiglia degli eroi Narti
È interessante vedere sopravvivere questa struttura ideologica della
società nell’epopea popolare dei moderni Osseti, che ci è nota i n
frammenti ma in numerose varianti da circa un secolo e che una gran¬ de
impresa folklorica russo-osseta, da circa quindici anni, ha sistema¬
ticamente raccolto. Gli Osseti sanno che i loro eroi dei tempi antichi, i
Narti, erano divisi essenzialmente in tre famiglie. «/ Boriatee -
dice una tradizione pubblicata da S. Tuganov nel 1925 - erano ricchi in
armenti; gli Alcegatce erano forti per intelligen¬ za; gli
/Exscertcegkatce si distinguevano per eroismo e vigore ed erano forti per
i loro uomini». I dettagli del racconto che giustappongono od
oppongono a due a due queste famiglie, soprattutto nella grande
collezione degli anni ’40, confermano pienamente queste
definizioni. II carattere «intellettuale» degli Alaegatae riveste
una forma ar¬ caica, non appaiono che in circostanze uniche ma frequenti:
c nella loro casa che hanno luogo le solenni bevute dei Narti in cui si
produco¬ no le meraviglie di una Coppa magica detta la «Rivelatrice dei
Narti». Quanto agli vExsscrtaegkata;, grandi smargiassi ad effetto,
è ri¬ marchevole che il loro nome sia un derivato del sostantivo
cexsur(t) «bravura», che è, con le alterazioni fonetiche previste nelle
parlate sci¬ tiche, la stessa parola del sanscrito ksatrà, nome tecnico,
come abbia¬ mo visto, del fondamento della classe guerriera.
I Boriala; e il principale tra essi, Burafscrnyg, sono costante-
mente e caricaturalmente i ricchi, con tutti i rischi e i difetti della
ric¬ chezza e in più, in opposizione ai poco numerosi vExsaertaegkatae,
sono una moltitudine di uomini. 5. Gli Indoeuropei e la
tripartizione sociale Riconosciuta così come retaggio comune
indo-iranico, questa dottrina tripartita della vita sociale è stata il
punto di partenza di un'inchiesta che prosegue da più di vent’anni e che
ha portato a due risultati complementari che possono riassumersi in questi
termini: 1) al di fuori degli Indo-Iranici i popoli indoeuropei
conosciuti in età antica o praticavano realmente una divisione di questo
tipo oppure, nelle leg¬ gende in cui spiegano le proprie origini,
ripartivano i loro cosiddetti «componenti» iniziali fra le tre categorie
di questa stessa divisione: 2) nel mondo antico, dal paese dei Seres alle
Colonne d’Èrcole, dalla Li¬ bia e dall’Arabia agli Iper borei,
nessun popolo non indoeuropeo ha esplicitato praticamente o idealmente
una tale struttura o se l’ha fatto è stalo dopo un contatto preciso,
localizzabile c databile, che ha avuto con un popolo indoeuropeo. Ecco
qualche esempio a sostegno di que¬ sta proposizione. Il caso più
completo è quello dei più occidentali tra gli Indoeu¬ ropei, i Celti e
gli Italici, il che non è sorprendente una volta che si c prestata
attenzione (J. Vendryes, 1918) alle numerose corrispondenze che esistono
nel vocabolario della religione, dell’amministrazione e del diritto, tra
le lingue indo-iraniche da una parte e quelle ilalo-celli- che
dall’altra. Se si ordinano i documenti che descrivono lo stato
sociale della Gallia pagana decadente conquistala da Cesare, insieme ai
testi che ci informano sull’Irlanda pocoprima della sua conversione al
cristiane¬ simo, ci appare sotto il *rig (l’esalto equivalente fonetico
del sanscrito rcij- o del latino réf*-), un tipo di società così
costituita: 1) Al di sopra di tulli c forte oltre ogni limile,
quasi super-nazio¬ nale come la classe dei brahmani, vi c la classe dei
clruicli (*dru-uid), cioè dei sapienti, sacerdoti, giuristi, depositari
della tradizione. 2) Segue poi l’aristocrazia militare, unica
proprietaria del suo¬ lo, \a flciith irlandese (cf. il gallico vlata- c
il tedesco Gewcdt), propria¬ mente la «potenza», esatto equivalente
semantico del sanscrito ksatrà, essenza della funzione guerriera.
3) Infine, gli allevatori, i bóairig irlandesi, uomini liberi (
ciirif.;) che si definiscono solamente come possessori di vacche ( bó).
Non è sicuro ne probabile, come c stalo proposto, (A. Mcillet c R.
Thurney- scn hanno preferito un’etimologia puramente irlandese) che
questa ul¬ tima parola, aire (genitivo ctirech, plurale airig) che
designa lutti i membri dell’insieme degli uomini liberi (che sono
protetti dalla legge, concorrono all’elezione del re, partecipano alle
assemblee - airecht - e ai grandi banchetti stagionali) sia un derivato
in -k di una parola impa¬ rentata con l’indo-iranico * city a (sanscrito
city a, àrya\ antico-persiano ariya, avestico airya; osseto Iceg «uomo»,
da *arya-ka-). Ma poco im¬ porta: il quadro tripartito celtico ricopre
esattamente lo schema reale o ideale delle società indo-iraniche. La
Roma storica, benché risalga ad epoca remota, non ha divisioni funzionali:
l’opposizione tra patrizi e plebei è di un altro tipo. Senza dubbio è
l’effetto di un’evoluzione precoce e la divisione in tre tribù - anteriore agl’etruschi
benché rivestila di nomi d’origine apparentemente etnisca come Ramnes, Luceres,
Titienses - e ancora in qualche modo del tipo che studiamo: è ciò che ci
suggerisce chiaramente la leggenda delle origini. Secondo la variante più
diffusa, Roma si e costituita da tre elementi etnici: i compagni latini
di Romolo e Remo, gli alleati etruschi condotti a Romolo da Lucumone e i
nemici sabini di Romolo comandati da Tito Tazio. I primi avrebbero dato
nascita a la TRIBU I -- Ramnes, i secondi alla TRIBU II – i Luceres c i
terzi alla TRIBU III – i Titienses. Ora, la tradizione annalistica colora
costantemente ognuno di questi componenti etnici di tratti funzionali. LA
TRIBU III: I Sabini di Tazio sono essenzialmente ricchi di armenti. LA TRIBU
II. Lucumone c la sua banda sono i primi specialisti dell’arte militare
arruolati come tali da Romolo. LA TRIBU I: Romolo è il semi-dio, il
rex-augur beneficiario della promessa iniziale di Jupiter, il creatore <le\Y
urbs e il fondatore istituzionale della respublica. Talvolta la componente
etnisca è eliminala, ma l’analisi «tri-funzionale» non viene meno poiché Romolo
c i suoi Latini accumulano su loro stessi la doppia specificazione di capi
sacri e di guerrieri esemplari ed hanno in loro stessi, come dice Tito
Livio (1,9; 2-4), “deos et virtutem” e non gli mancano temporaneamente
che opes (e le donne) che saranno loro fornite dai Sabini (cf. Floro,
1,1) i Sabini riconciliati che si trasferiscono a Roma c cum generis suis
a vitas opes prò dote socicint. Eliminando così gli’etruschi, il
dio Marte in persona, nei “Fasti” di Ovidio mette a nudo il movente ideologico
dell’impresa che ha portalo all’unione dei Romani con i Sabini: « La
ricca vicinanza – “viciniadives” -- non voleva questi generi senza ricchezza –
“inopes” -- e non aveva riguardo del fatto che io ero (un dio) la fonte
del loro sangue – “sanguinis auctor”. Io ho risentito di questa pena e ho
messo nel tuo cuore, Romolo, una disposizione conforme alla natura di tuo
padre -- “patriam mentem”, cioè marziale -- Io ti dico, tregua di sollecitazione,
ciò che domandi, saranno le armi a donartelo – “arma dabunt”. Dionigi di Alicarnasso che segue la
tradizione delle tre razze, ripartisce tra quelli gli stessi tre
vantaggi: le città vicine, sabine o altre, sollecitate da Romolo per
mezzo di matrimoni, rifiutano (II, 30) di unirsi a questi nuovi venuti «
Che non sono da considerarsi neper ricchezza (xpTipaoi) né per altre imprese
(taupnpòv Èpyov)». A Romolo, relegato così alla sua qualità di figlio di dio e
di depositario dei primi auspici, non resta che affidarsi (II, 37) ai militari
di professione come l’etrusco Lucumone di Solone, «Uomo di azione e
illustre in materia di guerra» (xà rcoX.é|iia 8ux<pavnq).
8. Properzio iv, i, 9-32 Ma è Properzio, nella prima elegia
romana che da a questa dottrina delle origini, e nella forma delle tre
razze, l’espressione più complete. Nel momento in cui nomina, con Romolo, le
tre tribù primitive mettendo in risalto le loro etimologie tramite le
correlazioni tradizionali coi nomi dei loro eponimi, comincia ad esprimere
i caratteri funzionali distintivi, 1’«essenza», potremmo dire, della
materia prima di ogni tribù. TRIBU I: i compagni di Remo e di suo fratello (il
nome di Romolo è riservato per coprire la sintesi finale); TRIBU II: Lygmon
(Lucu- mo); TRIBU III. Tito Tazio. Il testo di Properzio
merita di essere esaminato più da vicino. L’intenzione di Properzio
all’inizio di questa elegia è di opporre (c un luogo comune dell’epoca)
l’umiltà delle origini all’opulenza della Roma d’Ottaviano. Dopo qualche
verso che introduce il tema applicandolo al luogo, ecco gl’abitanti, presentati
in tre parti ineguali, seguite da una conclusione: -- sul pendio
dove si elevava un tempo la povera casa di REMO. I due fratelli avevano un solo
focolare, immenso reame. La Curia, il cui splendore copre oggi
un'assemblea di toghe preteste, non conteneva che senatori vestiti di
pelle e dalle anime rustiche. Era la tromba che convoca, per i colloqui,
gli antichi cittadini; cento uomini in un prato, tale era spesso il loro
senato. Nessuna tela ondulante sulle profondità di un teatro, nessuna
scena che esalasse l'odore solenne dello zafferano. Nessuno si cura di andare a
cercare dèi stranieri. La folla trema, attaccata al culto
ancestrale. E, ogni anno, le feste di Pale non sono celebrate che
con fuochi di fieno i quali valevano bene te lustrazioni che si fanno
oggi giorno grazie a un cavallo mutilato. Vesta era povera e
trovava il suo piacere in asinelli coronati di Fiori. Delle vacche
scarnite portavano in processione degli oggetti senza
valore. Dei maiali ingrassati bastavano per purificare gli stretti
crocicchi e il pastore, al suono della cennamella, offre in sacrificio le
interiora di una pecora. Vestito di pelli, l'agricoltore brandiva delle
correggie villose: è allora che tengono i loro riti i Fabii, Luperci
scatenati. Ancora primitivo, il soldato non sfavillava sotto delle armi
terribili. Ci si batteva nudi con dei pali induriti dal fuoco. Il primo
campo e stabilito (pretorio: quartiere del campo intorno alla tenda del
generale) da un comandante con un berretto di pelle, LYGMON. E la
ricchezza di TATIUS era essenzialmente nelle sue pecore: è da là che si
formarono i T1TIES, i RAMNES e i LU CERES, originari di Solonio; è da là che
Romolo Lancia la sua quadriga di cavalli Bianchi. Il percorso di questo
sviluppo è ben chiaro. Cme una favola verso la sua breve morale, tende
verso l’ultimo distico che prima di menzionare il «radunatore» Romolo,
nell’apparato dei suoi trionfi, enumera sotto i loro nomi le tre tribù
riunite. Al verso 31, hinc indica che queste tre tribù provengono da uomini che
sono stati precedentemente descritti e in effetti, in accordo con la tradizione
erudita, Properzio mette i Tities (v. 31) in correlazione con il Tatius del
verso 30 e i Luceres (v. 31) con Lygmon-Lucumo (v. 29). Quanto ai Ramnes
(v. 23, e 31), conformemente all’uso dovrebbero essere annunciati
simmetricamente alla menzione di Romolo, ma a Romolo è qui riservato il posto
di comando di questa società composita (v. 31 e 32) ed è RIMPIAZZATO DA REMUS al
verso 9, o insieme a lui in frotres al verso 10. In altre parole, prima
di mostrarli trasformati (hinc...) sotto Romolo, nei tre terzi della città unificata,
Properzio comincia col presentare successivamente, sotto i loro eponimi e nella
loro esistenza ancora separata, le tre componenti della futura Roma,
nell’ordine. TRIBU I: Le genti di Remo e di suo fratello. TRIBU II. L’etrusco
Lucumone e – TRIBU III: il sabinoTazio. Si spiega così come le feste dei
versi 15-26, appartenenti ai futuri Ramnes, siano quelle che la
tradizione considera anteriori al sinecismo e praticate già, nel loro
isolamento, dai due fratelli. Ma non è tutto. Non è meno lampante che le
tre successive presentazioni delle future tribù siano caratterizzate secondo
tre funzioni. Dal verso 9 («Remo») al verso 26, Properzio non evoca che il
carattere primitivo di un’AMMINISTRAZIONE POLITICA (v. 9-14; semplicità
dei «re», di ciò che rappresentava allora il senato e l’assemblea
popolare) e di un CULTO (v. 15-26; mancanza di solennità e di dèi stranieri;
nell 'ordine del calendario mstico - da aprile a febbraio - dei Parilia,
Vestalia, Compitalia e Lupercalia, senza alcuno sfarzo). TRIBU II:
Dal verso 27 al verso 29 (« Lygmon») il poeta evoca le forme primitive
della GUERRA che rimangono elementari («un berretto di pelle») anche col
primo tecnico militare. TRIBU III: Nel solo verso 30 (« Tatius ») Properzio
evoca la forma puramente pastorale della RICCHEZZA primitiva. La
nettezza delle articolazioni del testo e, in conseguenza, delle
intenzioni classificatorie di Properzio, il confronto nel distico 29-30
di Lucumo come generale e di Tazio come ricco proprietario di
armenti, mettono in risalto il fatto che, benché concepite come
componenti etniche, le tre tribù nel pensiero degli eruditi di epoca d’Ottaviano
sono caratterizzate funzionalmente. TRIBU I: I Ramnes, raggruppati
intorno ai «fratelli», dediti soprattutto al governo e al culto. TRIBU
II: Lucumoneei Luceres come guerrieri. TRIBU III: Tito Tazio e i Tities
(più spesso Titienses) come ricchi allevatori. Le divisioni degli
Ioni Fra i Greci, almeno gli Ioni e i più antichi ateniesi erano
stati ini¬ zialmente divisi in quattro tribù definite dal ruolo nell’organizzazione
sociale. I nomi tradizionali delle tribù non sono molto chiari, al pari
della ripartizione dei nomi nelle quattro funzioni o, come dice Plutar¬
co, nei quattro |3ioi «(tipi di) vite», ma questi tipi sono molto
probabil¬ mente sacerdoti o funzionari religiosi, guerrieri o
«guardiani», agricol¬ tori, artigiani (Strabone Vili, 7, 1; cf. Platone,
Timeo, 24 A). Plutarco 0 Solone 23), per una falsa etimologia del nome
ordinario ricollegato ai sacerdoti, omette i sacerdoti e sdoppia
agricoltori e pastori. È probabile che le tre classi della
Repubblica ideale di Platone - filosofi che governano, guerrieri che
difendono e il terzo stato che pro¬ duce ricchezza - con ogni loro
armonizzazione morale o filosofica, così prossima talvolta alle
speculazioni indiane, siano state ispirate in parte dalle tradizioni
ioniche, in parte da ciò che si sapeva allora in
GreciadelledottrinedeH’Iraneinpartedaquegli insegnamenti dei pi¬ tagorici
che risalgono senza dubbio al remoto passato ellenico o pre¬
ellenico. 10. La tripartizione sociale nel mondo antico
A questi schemi concordanti si è cercata invano una replica in¬
dipendente nella pratica o nelle tradizioni delle società ugrofinniche o
siberiane, presso i Cinesi o gli Ebrei biblici, in Fenicia o nella
Mesopo- tamia sumerica o accadica, o nelle vaste zone continentali
adiacenti agli Indoeuropei o penetrate da essi. Ciò che salta agli occhi
sono delle organizzazioni indifferenziate di nomadi in cui ognuno è sia
combat¬ tente che pastore; delle organizzazioni teocratiche di sedentari
in cui un re-sacerdote o un imperatore divino è contrapposto ad una
massa spezzettata aH’infinito ma omogenea nella sua umiltà; oppure
ancora delle società in cui lo stregone non è che uno specialista fra
tanti altri senza preminenza, malgrado il timore che la sua competenza
suscita. Niente di tutto questo ricorda né da vicino né da lontano
la strut¬ tura delle tre classi funzionali gerarchizzate e non vi sono
delle eccezioni. Quando un popolo non indoeuropeo del mondo antico,
ad esempio del Vicino Oriente, sembra conformarsi a questa struttura
è perché l’ha acquisita sotto l’influenza di uno nuovo arrivato vicino a
lui, da una di quelle pericolose bande di Indoeuropei - Luviti, Hittiti,
Arya - che nel secondo millennio si sono arditamente sparse lungo diversi
percorsi. E il caso ad esempio dell’Egitto «castale» in cui i Greci
del V secolo credevano di aver trovato il prototipo, l’origine delle più
vec¬ chie classi funzionali ateniesi che sono state menzionate poco fa.
In re¬ altà questa struttura si è formata sul Nilo grazie al contatto con
gli Indoeuropei, che apparendo in Asia Minore e in Siria nella metà del
secondo millennio prima della nostra èra, rivelarono agli Egiziani il
cavallo e tutti i suoi usi. Solamente dopo questa data il vecchio
impero dei Faraoni si riorganizza per poter sopravvivere, formandosi ciò
che non aveva mai avuto: un’armata permanente e una classe militare. Il
più antico testo «multifunzionale» del tipo di quello che sarà conosciuto
da Erodoto (Timeo) o da Diodoro, è l’iscrizione in cui Thaneni si vanta
di aver fat¬ to un vasto censimento per conto dei suo Faraone Thutmosis
IV (J.H. Breasted, Ancient Records ofEgypt, II, thè XVIlIth Dynasty,
1906, p. 165): «M uste ring ofthe whole land before his
Majesty making an in- spection ofevery body, knowing thè soldiers,
priests, royal serfs and all thè craftsmen ofthe whole land, all thè
cattle, fo wl and small cattle, by thè military scribe, beloved of his
lord Thaneni » Ora, Thutmosis IV (1415-1405) è giusto il primo
Faraone che abbia mai sposato una principessa arya dei Mitanni, la figlia
di un re dal nome caratteristico di Artatama. Sembra che la
differenziazione di una classe di guerrieri col suo statuto «morale»
particolare, unito ad una sorta di alleanza flessibile a una classe
ugualmente differenziata di sacerdoti, sia stata la novità degli
Indoeuropei e il cavallo e il carro la ragione e il mezzo della loro
espansione. Le iscrizioni geroglifiche e cuneiformi ci hanno trasmesso il
ricordo del terrore che causarono alle vecchie civiltà questi specialisti
della guerra, così arditi e impietosi come quei conquistadores che
tremila anni più tardi nel Nuovo Mon¬ do comparvero ai capi e ai popoli
degli imperi che schiacciarono. Essi li designavano con un nome -
marianni - che in effetti gli Indoeuropei usavano: i mdriya, incuiStig
Wikander seppe riconosce- 26 re nel 1938 i
membri dei «Mcitinerblinde» dello stesso tipo studiato da Otto Hofler
presso i Germani. 11. Teoria e pratica La comparazione
dei più antichi documenti indoiranici, celtici, italici e greci, se da una
parte permette di affermare che gli Indoeuro¬ pei avevano una concezione
della struttura sociale fondata sulla di¬ stinzione e sulla
gerarchizzazione delle tre funzioni, dall’altra parte non può insegnare
grandi cose sulla forma concreta - o sulle diverse forme - in cui si
sarebbero realizzate queste concezioni. Bisogna ora generalizzare ciò che
è stato detto più sopra a proposito degli Arya ve¬ dici. È
possibile che la società sia stata interamente ed esausti vamen- te
ripartita tra sacerdoti, guerrieri e pastori. Si può anche pensare che la
distinzione avesse solamente portato a mettere in risalto qualche clan o
qualche famiglia «specializzata», depositaria nell’un caso dei segreti efficaci
del culto, nel secondo delle iniziazioni e delle tecniche guer¬ riere e
nell’ultimo, infine, dei rimedi e delle magie deH’allevamento, mentre il
grosso della società, indifferenziata o meno differenziata, si affidava
alla direzione degli uni o degli altri, secondo le necessità o le
occasioni. Si è infine liberi di immaginare moltissime forme intermedie,
ma queste non saranno che punti di vista dello spirito. Certi
raffronti di cifre sembrano tuttavia rivelare la sopravvi¬ venza di
formule molto precise: così, nel Rgveda i «33 dèi» riassumo¬ no una
società divina concepita ad immagine della società aryae sono talvolta
scomposti in 3 gruppi di 10, completati da 3 supplementari; oppure, a
Roma, le 33 comparse dei comitia curiata dei quali 30 (cioè 3 per 10)
riassumono le 3 tribù primitive funzionali dei Ramnes, Luce- res e
Titienses, completate da 3 àuguri. 12. Le tre funzioni
fondamentali Così, non è il dettaglio autentico e storico
dell’organizzazione sociale tripartita degli Indoeuropei che interessa di
più il comparatista, ma il principio di classificazione, il tipo di
ideologia che essa ha susci¬ tato, realizzato o formulato, e di cui non
sembra essere più rimasta che un’espressione tra tante
altre. Diverse volte nell’esposizione che si è letta è stata
incontrata una parola importante: quella di funzione, di tre funzioni, e
bisogna così intendere certamente le tre attività fondamentali assicurate
da gruppi di uomini - sacerdoti, guerrieri, produttori - per il
sostentamen¬ to e la prosperità della collettività. Ma il
dominio delle «funzioni» non si limita a questa prospetti¬ va sociale.
Alla riflessione filosofica degli Indoeuropei esse avevano già fornito -
come sostantivi astratti, bnihman, ksutrù, vis, principi delle tre classi
nella riflessione filosofica degli Indiani vedici e posl-vedici - ciò che
può essere considerato, secondo il punto di vista, come un mezzo per
esplorare la realtà materiale e morale o come un mezzo per mettere ordine
nel patrimonio delle nozioni ammesse dalla società.
L’inventario di queste applicazioni non propriamente sociali della
struttura trifunzionale, è stato intrapreso e continuato, dal 1938, da E.
Benveniste e da me stesso. Ora, è facile porre sulla prima e sulla
seconda «funzione» un’etichetta che copra tutte le sfumature: da una
parte il sacro e i rapporti dell 'uomo col sacro (culto, magia) c degli
uo¬ mini tra di loro, sotto lo sguardo c la garanzia degli dèi (diritto,
ammi¬ nistrazione), e così pure il potere sovrano esercitato dal re o dai
suoi delegati in conformità con la volontà o il favore divino e infine,
più ge¬ neralmente, la scienza c l’intelligenza, allora inseparabili
dalla medi¬ tazione e dalla manipolazione delle cose sacre; dall’altra
parte la forza fisica brutale e l’impiego della forza, uso principalmente
ma non uni¬ camente guerriero. È meno facile delincare in
poche parole l’essenza della terza funzione, che ricopre delle province
numerose fra le quali intercorro¬ no dei legami evidenti ma la cui unità
non comporta un centro ben de¬ finito: fecondità umana, animale e
vegetale, ma, nello stesso tempo, nutrimento e ricchezza, santità e pace
(con le gioie c i vantaggi della pace) e anche voluttà, bellezza c
l’importante idea del «gran numero», applicata non solo ai beni
(abbondanza) ma anche agli uomini che compongono il corpo sociale
(massa). Non sono queste delle defini¬ zioni a priori ma insegnamenti
convergenti di molte applicazioni dell’ideologia tripartita.
Gli indologi hanno familiarità con questo uso straripante della
classificazione tripartita sin dai tempi vedici: per un impulso che ricorda,
nel suo vigore e nei suoi effetti, la tendenza classificatoria del
pensiero cinese - che ha distribuito tra lo yang e lo yin sia coppie di
no¬ zioni solidali che antitetiche -1’India ha messo le tre classi della
socie¬ tà, coi loro principi, in rapporto con numerose triadi di nozioni preesi¬
stenti o create per la circostanza. Queste armonie, queste correlazioni
importanti per l’azione simpatetica a cui tende il culto, hanno talvolta
un senso molto profondo, talvolta artificiale e altre volte puerile.
Così, ad esempio, le tre «funzioni» sono distributivamente con¬
nesse ai tre guna (propriamente, «figli») o «qualità» - Bontà, Passione,
Oscurità - delle quali la filosofia sùrìikhyu dice che gli intrecci
variabili formano la trama di tutto ciò che esiste; o ancora, nei tre
stadi superiori dell’universo, le si vede non meno imperiosamente
collegate ai diver¬ si metri e melodie dei Veda o ai diversi tipi di
bestiame o a comandare minuziosamente la scelta dei diversi tipi di legno
con cui saranno fatte le scodelle o i bastoni. Senza arrivare
a questi eccessi di sistematizzazione, la maggior parte degli altri
popoli della famiglia presentano aspetti di questo ge¬ nere che,
ritrovandosi molto simili su diverse altre parti del globo, hanno la
fortuna di risalire ad antenati comuni, agli Indoeuropei. Non si potrà
presentare in questa sede che qualche inventario. 13. Triadi di
calamità f.triadi di delitti Da circa vent’anni E. Benveniste ha
individualo presso gli Ira¬ nici c gli Indiani delle formule molto simili
in cui un dio è pregalo di allontanare, da una collettività o da un
individuo, tre flagelli, ognuno dei quali si riconnettc a una delle tre
funzioni. Per esempio, in una iscrizione di Pcrscpoli (Persep. d 3)
Dario domanda ad Ahuramazdà di proteggere il suo impero «r/a//
’esercito nemico, dal cattivo anno e dall'inganno» (quest’ultima parola,
drau- ga, nel vocabolario del Gran Re designava sopralutto la ribellione
po¬ litica, il misconoscimento dei suoi diritti sovrani; ma si riferiva
anche al peccalo maggiore delle religioni iraniche, la menzogna).
Parallela¬ mente, al momento delle cerimonie vcdichc del plenilunio c del
novi¬ lunio, una preghiera è dedicala ad Agni, con delle formule che,
diver¬ samente allungate dagli autori dei vari libri liturgici (per esempio
Tditt.Sariìh., I, 1, 13, 3; Sut.Bràhm., I, 9, 2, 20) hanno questo nucleo
comune: «Conservami dalla soggezione, conservami dal cattivo
sacrifi¬ cio, conservami dal cattivo nutrimento». L’enunciato
indiano è parallelo a quello iranico, con la riserva che, al primo
livello, il re achemenide parla di inganno e il ritualista vedico di
sacrificio malfatto: questo scarto nei timori corrisponde ad evoluzioni
divergenti - da una parte più moraliste e dall’altra più for- maliste -
delle religioni delle due società. Mi è stato possibile dimostrare
in seguito che i più occidentali tra gli Indoeuropei, i Celti, i cui usi
sono talvolta così sorprendente¬ mente simili a quelli vedici,
utilizzavano la stessa classificazione tri¬ partita delle maggiori
calamità. La principale compilazione giuridica dell’Irlanda, il
Senchus Mór, comincia con questa dichiarazione ( Ancient Laws oflreland,
IV 1873, p. 12): « Vi sono tre tempi in cui si produce il deperimento
del mondo: il periodo della morte degli uomini (morte per epidemia o
per carestia, precisa la glossa), la produzione accresciuta di guerra e
la dissoluzione dei contratti verbali». I malanni sono così ripartiti fra
le tre zone della salute o del nutrimento, della forza violenta e del
diritto. I Galli non hanno inserito nei loro libri giuridici delle
tali for¬ mulazioni astratte, ma un testo che parrebbe essere la
trasposizione ro¬ manzesca di un vecchio mito, il Cyvranc Lludd a
Llevelis è consacrato all’esposizione delle tre «oppressioni» dell’isola
di Bretagna e al modo in cui il re Lludd vi mise fine. Queste
calamità sono: 1) una razza di uomini «saggi» il cui «sa¬ pere» è tale
che essi intendono per tutta l’isola ogni conversazione, fosse anche a
bassa voce, e interferiscono così nel governo e nei rap¬ porti umani; 2)
ogni primo maggio ha luogo un terribile duello tra due draghi, il drago
dell’isola e il drago straniero che viene a «battersi» col primo,
cercando di «vincerlo», e le urla del drago dell’isola sono tali da
paralizzare e sterilizzare ogni essere vivente; 3) ogni volta che il re
ac¬ cumula in uno dei suoi palazzi una «provvista di cibarie e di
vivande», fosse anche per un anno, u n mago ladro giunge la notte
seguente e porta via tutto il suo paniere. Si osserva ancora una volta
come le tre oppres¬ sioni si sviluppino qui negli ambiti della vita
intellettuale, dell’ammi¬ nistrazione della forza e infine del
nutrimento; in più, considerate in 30 base ai
loro agenti e non in base alle vittime, esse definiscono tre delit¬ ti:
abuso di un sapere magico, aggressione violenta e furto di beni.
Sembra che il più antico diritto romano ugualmente consideras¬ se i
delitti privati come incantesimi maligni ( malum Carmen, occentu- tio),
violenza fisica ( membrum ruptum e osfractum, iniuriu) e in furto
{furtum)\ Platone utilizzava, in un contesto inerente alla tripartizione
C Repubblica, 413b-414a) e in un modo evidentemente artificiale,
prendendolo in prestito senza dubbio da qualche poeta tragico, una di¬
stinzione sistematica ed esauriente dei delitti molto simile, in «furto,
violenza fisica e incantesimo» (kXotcti, pila, yor|TEÌa). Benveniste ha
raffrontato la classificazione avestica dei me¬ dicamenti ( Vidèvdàt ,
VII, 44: medicine del coltello, delle piante e del¬ le formule
d’incantesimo) con l’analisi che fa un inno del Riveda sui poteri medici
degli dei Nàsatya-Asvin (X, 39, 3) «.guaritori di chi è cieco (male
misterioso, magico), di chi è smagrito (male alimentare) e di chi ha una
frattura (violenza)». È lo stesso procedimento che nella III
Pythica di Pindaro il cen¬ tauro Chirone insegna ad Asclepio per guarire
« le dolorose malattie degli uomini» (versi 40-55: incantesimi, pozioni o
droghe, incisioni) ed è stato sospettato che dietro questi fatti
paralleli si celi l’esistenza di una «dottrina medica» tripartita
ereditata dagli Indoeuropei. Se i vec¬ chi testi germanici non applicano
questo schema classificatorio ai ma¬ lanni, ai delitti o ai rimedi, è
vero che l’utilizzano in altre circostanze: il Canto di Skirnir nell
'Edda è un piccolo dramma in cui il servitore del dio Freyr costringe,
malgrado la sua volontà, la gigantessa Gerdr a cedere ai desideri amorosi
del suo maestro. Inizialmente tenta invano di comprare ( kaupu ) il
suo amore con dei regali d’oro (strofe 19-22); poi, non meno inutilmente,
minaccia di decapitarla (str. 23-25) con la sua spada {ma.’.ki)\ infine
al suo terzo ten¬ tativo non gli rimane che minacciarla con gli strumenti
della sua ma¬ gia, bacchette ( gambantein ) c rune (str. 26-37).
15. Elogi tripartiti Quando un poeta indiano vuole fare
brevemente l’elogio totale di un re, passa in rassegna le tre funzioni in
tre parole: così, all’inizio del Raghuvamsa (I, 24) il re Dilàpa merita di
essere chiamato padre dei suoi sudditi « perché assicura loro buona
condotta, li protegge e li nutre». Con delle formule generalmente meno
concise, l’epopea irlan¬ dese procede allo stesso modo. In un bel lesto,
il Paese dei Viventi, cioè l’altro mondo, la dimora dei morti divenuti
immortali, è caratte¬ rizzalo dall’assenza di morte in base ai tre
aspetti seguenti: «.non vi è né peccato né errore...] vi si mangiano
pasti eterni senza servizio; l'in¬ tesa regna senza lotte ».
L’originalità del paese meraviglioso consiste nel fatto che tutto è
buono e facile, ma questa idea si analizza e si esprime nel pensiero
dell’autore soprattutto secondo le tre funzioni (virtù, guerra, abbon¬
danza alimentare); la seconda funzione, di tipo violento, considerata
come un male c rifiutata, mentre le altre due sono sviluppale al massi¬
mo grado (J. POKÒRNY, «Conio’s abcnteucrliche Fahrt» ZCP XVII, 1928, p.
195). In un a simile analisi, per fare 1 ’ elogio del re Conchobar,
u n lesto del ciclo degli Ulati dice che sotto il suo regno vi erano
«pace e tran¬ quillità, saluti cordiali», «ghiande, grasso e prodotti del
mare», «con¬ trollo, diritto e buona regalità» (K. MEYER, «Milleil. aus
irischen Handschriflen» ZCP, III, 1901, p. 229): cioè il contrario della
guerra, della carestia c dell’anarchia, il contrario dei tre flagelli
contro i quali il re Dario a Persepoli domanda al gran dio di conservare
il suo impero. 16. Le tre funzioni e la «natura delle cose»
Si può obiettare talvolta che queste formule non siano troppo
naturali, così troppo ben modellale sull’uniforme e inevitabile dispo¬
sizione delle cose perché il loro accumulo e la loro somiglianza provi¬
no un’origine comune c resistenza di una dottrina caratteristica degli
Indoeuropei. Una riflessione anche elementare sulla condizione
umana e sul¬ le risorse della vita collettiva non dovrebbe forse mettere
in evidenza, in ogni tempo c in ogni luogo, tre necessità, cioè una
religione che ga¬ rantisse un’amministrazione, un diritto c una morale
stabile, una forza protettrice c conquistatrice, infine dei mezzi di
produzione, di alimen¬ tazione e di gioia? E quando l’uomo riflette sui
pericoli che incontrac sulle vie che si aprono alla sua azione, non è
ancora a una qualche va¬ rietà di questo schema che si riporta? Basta uscire
dal mondo indoeuropeo, in cui queste formule sono così numerose, per constatare
che, malgrado il carattere necessario e universale dei tre bisogni ai
quali si riferiscono, esse non hanno la generalità o la spontaneità chesi
suppo¬ ne: al pari della di visione sociale corrispondente, non le si
ritrova in al¬ cun testo egizio, sumerico, accadico, fenicio e biblico,
né nella lettera¬ tura dei popoli siberiani, nè presso i pensatori
confuciani o taoisti così inventivi ed esperti di classificazioni.
La ragione è semplice ed elimina l’obiezione: per una civiltà,
sentire vivamente e soddisfare dei bisogni impellenti è una cosa; por¬
tarli alla chiarezza della coscienza e riflettere su di essi, farne una
struttura intellettuale e uno schema di pensiero è tutta un’altra. Nel
mondo antico solo gli Indoeuropei hanno fatto questo cammino filo¬ sofico
e così si percepisce nelle speculazioni e nelle produzioni lette¬ rarie
di tanti popoli di questa famiglia, che la spiegazione più econo¬ mica,
come per la divisione sociale propriamente detta, è ammettere che il
percorso non è stato fatto e rifatto indipendentemente in ogni provincia
indoeuropea dopo la dispersione, ma che è anteriore alla di¬ visione ed è
opera di pensatori dei quali i brahmani, i druidi e i collegi sacerdotali
romani sono in parte i diretti eredi. 17. Meccanismi giuridici
triplici Una delle applicazioni più interessanti ma più delicate è
quella che in riferimento alla concezione indoeuropea chiarifica presso i
di¬ versi popoli (India, Roma, Lacedemoni) i quadri e le regole
giuridi¬ che. Lucien Gerschel, ricordando il diritto romano, ha
dimostrato che questo, così originale nei suoi fondamenti e nel suo
spirito, conserva nelle sue forme un gran numero di procedure in tre
varianti a effetti equivalenti (che si spiegano solitamente, ma senza
prove, come crea¬ zioni successive dell’ uso e del pretore) che almeno
qualcuna di queste sorprendenti «tripartita» si modella sul sistema delle
tre funzioni qui considerate. Citerò unodei migliori esempi: un
testamento può essere fatto con lo stesso valore sia nell’assemblea
strettamente religiosa dei Comitia Curiata, presieduti dal gran
pontefice; sia sul fronte di una battaglia davanti ai soldati; sia
tramite una vendita fittizia a un «emp- torfamiliae» (Aulo-Gellio, XV,
27; Gaius, II; Ulpiano, Reg. XX, 1). Gerschel non pretende che sia
esistito a Roma un «diritto sacerdota¬ le», un «diritto guerriero» e un
«diritto economico», o che i tre tipi di testamento abbiano avuto delle assisi
sociali o degli effetti differenti, non più dei tre tipi di affrancamento
o delle altre tricotomie giuridiche che si possono interpretare in questo
senso. Questo quadro così incredibilmente frequente, questa triade
di possibilità a effetti equivalenti e l’omologia delle distinzioni che
si di¬ stribuiscono, sembrerebbe attestare, dice Gerschel, che «i
creatori del diritto romano hanno da molto tempo pensato i grandi atti
della vita collettiva secondo l’ideologia delle tre funzioni e
giustapposto volen¬ tieri tre processi, tre decorsi o tre casi di
applicazione provenienti cia¬ scuno dal principio (religioso; attualmente
o potenzialmente milita¬ re; economico) di una delle tre funzioni
». 18. Le tre funzioni e la psicologia La stessa
psicologia non sfugge a questo schema. I sistemi filo¬ sofici indiani
dosano nelle anime, come nella società, dei principi come la legge
morale, la passione, l’interesse economico (dharma, kCimu, artha) \
Platone attribuisce alle tre classi della sua Repubblica ideale -
filosofi governanti, guerrieri, produttori di ricchezze - delle formule
di virtù che distribuiscono e combinano la Saggezza, il Co¬ raggio e la
Temperanza; in un’espressione apparentemente tradizio¬ nale e legala all’intronizzazione
dei Re Supremi di Irlanda, la mitica regina Medb, depositaria e donatrice
della Sovranità, pone come tripli¬ ce condizione a chiunque vuole
diventare suo marito, cioè re, di «essere senza gelosia, senza paura,
senza avarizia» (Tdin Bó Cualnge ed. Win- disch, 1905, pp. 6-7); infine,
anche lo zoroastrismo, nei testi brillante- mente interpretati da K.
Barr, spiega che la nascila dell’uomo per eccel¬ lenza, Zoroastro, è
stata accuratamente preparata con la combinazione di tre principi, l’uno regale,
l’altro guerriero e il terzo carnale. Si tratta forse di
un’applicazione mitica di una credenza anti¬ chissima; nei trattati
rituali domestici dell’India ( Sànkh. G. S, I, 17, 9; Pdrask. G. S, 1,9,
5) si consiglia infatti alla donna che vuole concepire un bambino maschio
di rivolgersi a Mitra, a Varuna, agli Asvin e a Indra (quest’ultimo
accompagnato da Agni o Sùrya, secondo le va¬ rianti) e a nessun altro,
cioè, come sarà dimostrato nel capitolo seguen¬ te, alla lista arcaica
indo-iranica degli dèi che incarnano e patrocinano la prima, la terza e
la seconda funzione. Un’altra via di sviluppo per il pensiero
trifunzionale è stata quella del simbolismo: tanto i tre gruppi sociali
quanto i loro tre princi¬ pi sono stati legati figurativamente e
solidalmente a degli oggetti ma¬ teriali semplici, il cui raggruppamento
li evocava e li rappresentava. Sembra che dai tempi indoeuropei questa
via abbia principalmente portato a due insiemi: una collezione di oggetti
talismani e un venta¬ glio di colori. Ci si ricordi della
leggenda tramite cui gli Sciti, secondo Erodo¬ to, spiegavano le loro
origini: gli oggetti d’oro caduti dal cielo - carro e giogo per
l’agricoltore, ascia (o lancia o arco) come arma guerriera, coppa
cultuale - hanno dei valori nettamente classificatori secondo le tre
funzioni. Ora, questi oggetti non erano solamente mitici: erano
conserva¬ ti lutti insieme dal re e ogni anno venivano solennemente
portati attra¬ verso le terre scitiche. Anche la leggenda irlandese
attribuisce alla pe¬ nultima razza che avrebbe occupato l’isola, e che in
realtà è costituita dagli antichi dèi della mitologia (i Tuatha dé
Danann, «Le tribù della dea Dana»), un gruppo di oggetti talismani: il
«calderone di Dagda» che conteneva e donava un nutrimento meraviglioso;
due armi terribi¬ li, la lancia di Lug che rendeva il suo possessore
invincibile e la spada di Nuada, al cui colpo niente sopravviveva; la
pietra di Fai infine, sede della sovranità, il cui grido rivelava quale
dei candidati doveva essere scelto come re (V. HULL«Thefourjewels
oftheT.D.D» ZCP, XVIII, 1930, pp. 73-89). Le mitologie vediche e
scandinave collegano allo stesso modo dei gruppi di tre oggetti
caratteristici a degli dèi che ve¬ dremo ben presto e che sono
distribuiti secondo le tre funzioni. 20. Colori simbolici delle
funzioni presso gli Indo-Iranici Quanto ai colori simbolici,
l’importanza e l’antichità sono già segnalate, per il mondo indo-iranico,
dal fatto che i tre (o quattro) gruppi sociali funzionali sono designati
in base alla parola sanscrita varna e alla parola avestica pìstra (cf. il
greco 7touciXoq «screziato», russo pisat' «scrivere»), che con sfumature
diverse designano il colo¬ re. Di fallo è un insegnamento costante
nell’India che brdhmunu, ksatriya, vaisya e sùclru siano rispettivamente
caratterizzati (e le spie¬ gazioni non mancano) dal bianco, il rosso, il
giallo e il nero. 35 Di certo che vi è stata
un’alterazione in seguilo alla creazione delle caste inferiori ed
eterogenee degli sùdra, di un antico sistema di cui rimangono tracce nei
rituali (Gobh. G. S., IV, 7, 5-7; Khucl. G. S. IV, 2, 6) e senza dubbio
anche uno nel Riveda («nero, bianco e rosso è il suo cammino » dice X,
20,9 di Agni, il più triplice e trifunzionale de¬ gli dèi), sistema formato
semplicemente da tre colori senza il giallo e dove vi era il nero (o blu
scuro) a caratterizzare i vaisya, gli allevato¬ ri-agricoltori.
In effetti anche l’Iran ha mantenuto questa ripartizione: una tra¬
dizione «mazdeo-zurvanita» che è stata progressivamente stabilita e
interpretata da H. S. Nybcrg (1929), G. Widengren, S. Wikan- der (1938) c
R. C. Zaehner (1938, 1955) descrive nella cosmogonia l’uniforme dei
sacerdoti come bianca, quella dei guerrieri come rossa o variopinta e
quella degli agricoltori-allevatori come blu scura. Altri Indoeuropei
praticavano lo stesso simbolismo. V. Basanoff ha intelli¬ gentemente i
nterpretato in questo senso un rituale hiltita di evocatio in cui i
diversi dèi della città nemica assediata sono pregali di lasciarla e di
giungere presso gli assedianti attraverso tre cammini - il che suppo¬ ne
tre diverse categorie di dèi - avvolti uno in una stoffa bianca, il se¬
condo in una stoffa rossa e il terzo in una stoffa blu ( Keilischrifturk
aus Bof’azkbi, VII, 60; FRIEDERICK, Deralte Orient, XXV, 2,1925,
pp. 22-23). 21. Colori simbolici delle funzioni presso Celti
e Romani Tra i Celti della Gallia e dellTrlanda il bianco è il
colore dei dm- idi e il rosso, nell’epopea irlandese, è quello dei
guerrieri; a Roma un Albogalerus caratterizza il più sacerdote tra i
sacerdoti, il flamen diu- lis, mentre il paludumentum militare è rosso
come il drappo sulla testa del generale o come la trabea dei cavalieri o
dei sacerdoti armati che sono i Salii. Un sistema completo a
tre termini del simbolismo coloralo s’incontra due volte nelle
istituzioni romane. Il caso più interessante è quello dei colori delle
fazioni del circo che assunsero grande impor¬ tanza sotto l’impero e
nella nuova Roma del Bosforo, ma che sono si¬ curamente anteriori
all’impero c che gli studiosi di antichità romane ricollegano del resto
alle origini stesse di Romolo. 36 Le
speculazioni esplicative di questi antichisti sono molteplici e intrise
di pseudo-filosol'ia e di astrologia, ma una di queste, conser¬ vata da
Giovanni il Lido, De mens. IV, 30, si riferisce a delle realtà ro¬ mane e
afferma che questi colori, che sono quattro, in epoca storica erano
inizialmente tre ( albati , russati, viricles) in rapporto non solo con
le divinità Jupiler, Mars e Venus (quest’ultima solo apparente¬ mente
sostituita a Flora) i cui valori funzionali sono evidenti (sovrani¬ tà,
guerra, fecondità), ma anche con le tre tribù primitive dei Ramnes,
Lucercs e Titienses. A proposito di questi ultimi si è ricordalo
più sopra che erano, nella leggenda delle origini, sia componenti etnici
(Latini, Etruschi, Sabini) che funzionali (derivati da uomini sacri c
governanti, da guer¬ rieri professionisti e da ricchi pastori) e che in
un altro passaggio {De magistrut. 1, 47) Giovanni il Lido interpreta come
paralleli alle tribù funzionali degli Egiziani e degli antichi
Ateniesi. Nel 1942 Jan de Vries raccolse un gran numero di esempi
anti¬ chi e moderni (religiosi, l'olklorici c letterari) di questa triade
di colori: quasi lutti provenivano dall’area di espansione indoeuropea o
dai suoi confini, o dalle regioni che furono esposte all'influenza degli
Indoeu¬ ropei e alcuni hanno chiaramente un valore classificatorio del
tipo qui considerato. 22. Le scelti- dei tigli di
Feridùn Infine, dei racconti epici, delle leggende o delle
narrazioni mol¬ to diverse utilizzano ugualmente il quadro trifunzionale.
Eccone qual¬ che esempio. La leggenda scitica dei tre figli di Targilaos,
il cui ulti¬ mogenito raccoglie insieme alla regalità i meravigliosi
oggetti d’oro simboli delle tre Finzioni, è stata paragonala da M.
Molé a una tradi¬ zione dell’Iran propriamente detto, relativa ai figli
del l’eroe che V Ave¬ sta chiama ©hraétaona, i testi pahlavi Frètòn e i
testi persiani Feridùn. Eccola nella traduzione data da M. Molé a un
passaggio dell 'Àyàtkar i JàmcispTk: «Da Frètòn nacquero tre
figli; Salm, Tòz ed Eric erano i loro nomi. Egli li convocò tutti e tre
per dire ad ognuno di essi: «Io sto per dividere il mondo tra di voi, che
ciascuno di voi mi dica ciò che gli sembra bello affinché io glielo
doni». Salm chiese grandi ricchezze, Toz il valore ed Eric, su cui era la
gloria dei Kavi (cioè il segno mira¬ coloso che distingue il sovrano
scelto da Dio) la legge e la religione. Frètón disse: «Che a ciascuno di
voi giunga ciò che ha chiesto». Ed egli donò infatti la terra di Rum a
Salm, il Turkestan e il deserto a Toz e l’Iran e la sovranità sui suoi
fratelli a Eric». Un’interessante variante di Ferdusi giustifica la
stessa divisio¬ ne geografica con un altro criterio, anche se col
medesimo senso. Esposti a titolo di prova a uno stesso pericolo (un
dragone minaccio¬ so), ognuno dei tre fratelli si rivela in accordo con
la propria natura e col proprio «livello funzionale»: Salm fugge, Tòz si
precipita cieca¬ mente all’assalto e Iraj evita il pericolo senza
combattere, con l’intelligenza e il nobile sentimento che ha della
dignità regale della sua famiglia. 23. La scelta del pastore
Paride È un tema simile, presente fra i Greci d’Asia Minore e forse
in¬ fluenzato dagli Indoeuropei di Frigia, che ha fornito la materia
del «giudizio di Paride», piacevole racconto dalle pesanti
conseguenze poiché è destinato a spiegare come, malgrado la sua ricchezza
e il suo valore, Troia finisca per soccombere ai Greci.
Paride, il bel principe pastore, vede giungere presso di sé tre dee
(che simboleggiano le tre funzioni) che gli chiedono un giudizio emi¬
nente; secondo un tipo di variante (Euripide, Iphig. Aul, V. 1300- 1307)
ognuna si presenta nel l’aspetto del proprio rango e della propria
attività: Era, « fiera del letto regale del sovrano Zeus », Atena con
l’elmo sul capo e la lancia in mano, Afrodite senza altre armi che la
«potenza del desiderio». Secondo un’altra variante (Euripide, Troia¬ ne,
v. 925-931) ogni dea tenta di accattivarsi il giudizio promettendo un
dono: Era promette la sovranità sull’Asia e l’Europa, Atene la vit¬ toria
e Afrodite la donna più bella. Paride sceglie male e assegna il
premio ad Afrodite, scelta che causerà ben presto il rapimento
dell’incomparabile Elena e, malgrado dieci anni di combattimento, la fine
di Troia, distrutta da una coalizio¬ ne di uomini e divinità tra le quali
Era ed Atena non saranno le meno accanite. 38
Questo tipo di racconto ha prosperato sino ai tempi moderni. L.
Gerschel ha studiato delle tradizioni svizzere, tedesche ed austriache
raccolte nell 'ultimo secolo, evidentemente indipendenti dalla leggen¬ da
greca, che presentano un giovane uomo che deve scegliere (ma ge¬
neralmente «bene») fra tre offerte nettamente funzionali; oppure tre
fratelli che si spartiscono tre doni funzionali dei quali solo uno,
quello della «prima funzione» assicura a chi lo possiede un destino
piena¬ mente «buono». Ecco per esempio la forma originale
rigorosamente ricostruita da Gerschel, delle leggende tedesche
sull’origine dello «Jodeln» (Johlen). «Res, il vaccaro di
Bahilsalp, trova una notte nella capanna tre esseri sovrannaturali in procinto
di fare il formaggio: a un certo pun¬ to il latticello è versato in tre
secchi e nel primo è rosso, nel secondo secchio è verde e nel terzo è
bianco. Res apprende che deve scegliere un secchio e berne il latticello;
allora uno dei vaccari fantasmi ag¬ giunge: «Se scegli il rosso sarai
talmente forte che nessuno potrà combattere con te». Il secondo vaccaro
disse a sua volta: «Se tu bevi il latticello di colore verde possiederai
molto oro e sarai ricchissimo». Il terzo infine spiegò: «Bevi il latticello
bianco e tu sarai Jodeln mera¬ vigliosamente». Res rifiutò i due primi
doni e si decise per il latticello bianco, diventando un perfetto Jodler
». Gerschel rileva che questa tecnica vocale ha nelle diverse
va¬ rianti un effetto magico (tutte le bestie vengono incontro allo
jodler e. l'accompagnano; tavole e panche danzano nella sua capanna: le
vac¬ che si alzano sulle loro zampe posteriori e danzano; la vacca più
selva¬ tica si addolcisce e si lascia mungere facilmente, etc.).
24. Talismani di Roma e di Cartagine Verso la fine delle
guerre puniche Roma ha senza dubbio orga¬ nizzato su un tale tipo di
schema la garanzia della sua vittoria finale: una testa di bue, poi una
testa di cavallo (trovate dagli scavatori di Di- done sul sito in cui si
ergeva, con Cartagine, il tempio della «sua» Giu¬ none) avevano, a detta
di loro, garantito alla città africana l’ opulenza e la gloria militare.
Ma in virtù della testa d’uomo che gli spalatori di Tarquinio avevano un
tempo trovato sul Campidoglio, nel sito del fu- 39
turo tempio di Jupiter O. M, è Roma che detiene la più alta
promessa, quella della sovranità. L. Gerschel, a cui si deve ancora
questa sor¬ prendente interpretazione, ha ricordato che presso gli
Indiani vedici uomo, cavallo e bue sono teoricamente i tre tipi superiori
delle vittime ammesse per il sacrificio, quelli le cui teste (assieme
alle teste delle due vittime inferiori, montone e capro) devono, almeno
in apparenza, essere interrate nel luogo in cui si vuole elevare
l’importante altare del fuoco, in mancanza del santuario permanente che
non esiste i n India. Come ultimo esempio, riallacciando all’ambito epico
la tripar¬ tizione dei flagelli e dei delitti ricordati più sopra, citerò
un tema di grande estensione letteraria che è stato diversamente spiegato
in India, in Scandinavia, in Grecia e in Iran: quello dei peccati di un
dio o di un uomo, generalmente (per delle ragioni che analizzeremo nel
III capi¬ tolo) un personaggio della «seconda funzione», un guerriero.
Indra, il dio guerriero dell’India vedica, è un peccatore. Nei
Brahmano e nelle epopee la lista dei suoi errori e dei suoi eccessi è
lun¬ ga e varia. Ma il quinto canto del Màrkandeya Purànu li ha ridotti
allo schema delle tre funzioni: Indra uccide prima il mostro
Tricefalo, morte necessaria poiché il Tricefalo c un flagello che
minaccia il mon¬ do, ma tuttavia morte sacrilega poiché il Tricefalo ha
il rango di brah¬ mano e non vi è crimine peggiore del brahmanicidio e di
conseguenza Indra perde la sua maestà, la sua forza spirituale, tejas
(1-2). Poi, es¬ sendo stato generato il mostro Vrtra per vendicare il
Tricefalo, Indra s’impaurisce e contravvenendo alla vocazione propria del
guerriero conclude con Vrtra un patto infido che viola, sostituendo alla
forza l’inganno; di conseguenza perde il suo vigore fisico, baia (3-11).
Infi¬ ne, tramite un’astuzia vergognosa, assumendo la forma del
marito, adesca una donna onesta in adulterio e perde così la sua bellezza,
rùpa (12-13). L’epopea nordica - Saxo Grammalicus è l’unico a
rintracciarne la storia completa, ma lo fa secondo fonti perdute in
lingua scandinava - conosce un eroe di tipo molto particolare, Starkadr
(Starcatherus), guerriero modello in ogni punto, servitore fedele e
devoto ai re che 1’accolgono, salvo che in tre circostanze. Egli è
infatti stato dotato di tre vite successive, cioè di una vita prolungata
sino alla misura di tre vite normali, a condizione che in ognuna di esse
egli commetta una penalità. Ora, il quadro di queste tre penalità
si distribuisce chiaramente secondo le tre funzioni. Essendo al servizio
di un re norvegese l’eroe aiuta criminalmente il dio Othinus (Ódinn) a
uccidere il suo signore in un sacrifìcio umano (VII, V, 1-2). Trovandosi
poi al servizio di un re svedese /ugge vergognosa¬ mente dal campo di
battaglia dopo la morte del suo signore abbando¬ nandosi, in quest’unica
occasione delle sue tre vite, alla paura panica (Vili, V). Servendo
infine un re danese, assassina il suo signore procu¬ randosi per
mediazione centoventi libbre d’oro, cedendo eccezional¬ mente per qualche
ora all’appetito di questa ricchezza di cui fece altro¬ ve, in atti e
discorsi, professione di disprezzo (VII, VI, 14). Essendosi così
estinta 1 a sua triplice carriera non gli rimane che cercare la morte ed
è ciò che compie in uno scenario grandioso (Vili, Vili). Il carattere e
le gesta di Starkadr ricordano in molti punti quelle di Eracle. Nelle
esposizioni sistematiche che sono fatte - relativamen¬ te tarde ma non
inventate - la vita intera dell’eroe greco (concepito da Zeus e Alcmene
durante tre notti) è scandita da tre mancanze che han¬ no un effetto
grave sull 'essere dell’ eroe e ognuna di questecomporta il ricorso
all’oracolo di Delfi (Diodoro, IV, 10-38). 1) Euristeo re di Argo comanda
ad Eracle di compiere dei lavori e ne ha il diritto in virtù di una
promessa imprudente di Zeus e di un’astuzia di Era: Eracle commette
tuttavia l’errore di rifiutare, malgrado l’invito formale di Zeus e
l’ordine dell’oracolo. Approfittando di questo stato di disubbi¬ dienza
agli dèi, Era lo colpisce nel suo spirito: egli è così preso dalla
demenza ed uccide i suoi bambini, dopo di che ritorna penosamente alla
ragione, si sottomette e compie così le Dodici Fatiche, aggravate da
altre fatiche (cap. 10-30). 2) Volendosi vendicare di Erito, Eracle
attira suo figlio Iphitos in un tranello e lo uccide non in duello ma con
l 'inganno (Sofocle nelle Trachinie 269-280 sottolinea il carattere for¬
temente antieroico di questo sbaglio). Eracle, punito, cade in una ma¬
lattia psichica da cui non si libera: viene così informato dall’oracolo
che deve vendersi come schiavo e rimettere ai figli di Iphitos il prezzo
di questa vendetta (cap. 31). 3) Benché infine legittimamente sposato
aDeianira, Eracle cerca di sposare un’altra principessa, poi ne
rapisce una terza e la preferisce alla sua donna, dal che ne deriva il
terribile di¬ sprezzo di Deianira, la tunica avvelenata dal sangue di
Nesso e i terri¬ bili e irrimediabili dolori dai quali l’eroe non può
liberarsi, dietro un terzo ordine di Apollo, che con la propria apoteosi,
col rogo (cap. 37-38). Oltraggio a Zeus e disobbedienza agli
dèi; morte vile e perfida di un nemico senz’ armi; concupiscenza sessuale
e oblio della propria don¬ na: i tre errori fatali di questa gloriosa
carriera si distribuiscono sulle tre zone funzionali esattamente come i
tre peccali di Indra e con la stessa specificazione (concupiscenza
sessuale) della terza, alterando l’essere stesso dell’eroe. Ma queste
alterazioni, progressive e cumulative nel caso di Indra, sono invece
successive nel caso di Eracle: le prime due possono essere riparate
mentre la terza trascina alla morte. In una tradizione avestica,
senza dubbio ripensala e ri-orientata dallo zoroastrismo, un eroe di
tufi’altro tipo, Yima, è punito per un unico grande peccalo (menzogna o,
più lardi, orgoglio c rivolta contro Dio e usurpazione degli onori
divini) e viene privato in tre tempi dello x' arvnah , di quel segno
visibile e miracoloso della sovranità che Ahu- ra Mazda pone sul capo di
coloro destinati ad essere re. I tre terzi di questo x v arvnah
successivamente sfuggono per collocarsi nei tre per¬ sonaggi
corrispondenti ai tre tipi sociali dell’ agricoltore-guaritore, del
guerriero e d c\V intelligente ministro di un sovrano (Dènkart , VII, 1,
25-32-36; molto più soddisfacente dello Yasl XIX, 34-38). 26. Il
problema del re Questo rapido excursus è sufficiente per mostrare
le direzioni e i diversi ambili in cui l’immaginazione dei popoli
indoeuropei ha uti¬ lizzato la struttura tripartita; ancora una volta
dobbiamo ora volgerci, come per le altre applicazioni di questa
struttura, verso i popoli non indoeuropei del mondo antico per ricercare
se intorno a un eroe si è prodotto un tema epico o leggendario, la messa
in scena di una lezione morale o politica, la giustificazione colorita
immaginifica di una prati¬ ca o di uno stato di fatto. Al
momento i risultali dell’inchiesta sono negativi. Da Gilga- mesh a Sansone,
dai grandi Faraoni agli imperatori favolosi della Cina, dalla saggezza
araba agli apologhi confuciani, nessun personag¬ gio storico o mitico ha
rivestito in alcun modo l’uniforme trifunzionale in cui si trovano al contrario
molte figure degli Indoeuropei. È dun¬ que probabile che questa divisa
sia solo indoeuropea e che solo in questa vasta partedel mondo, e prima
della loro dislocazione, gli Indo¬ europei abbiano intellettualmente
scandagliato, meditato e applicato all’analisi e all’interpretazione
della loro esperienza, e infine utilizza¬ to nei quadri della loro
letteratura, nobile o popolare, le tre necessità fondamentali e solidali
che gli altri popoli si accontentavano di soddi¬ sfare.
Terminando quest’esposizione molto generale vorrei sottoline¬ are
ancora che il riconoscimento di questo fatto così importante non ci
fornisce il mezzo per rappresentare lo stato sociale effetti voo le
istitu¬ zioni (senza dubbio variabili da provincia a provincia) degli
«Indoeu¬ ropei comuni». Noi non possediamo che un principio,
uno dei princìpi e dei quadri essenziali. Una delle questioni più oscure
rimane ad esempio il rapporto fra le tre funzioni e il «re», del quale ci
è assicurala l'esistenza antichissima nella parte senza dubbio più
conservatrice degli Indoeu¬ ropei, cioè presso gli indiani vedici
(/•«/-), i latini (/ <?#-) c i celti (n#-). Questi rapporti sono
diversi sui tre domini c su ognuno vi è stata una variazione nei luoghi e
nei tempi. Risulta così qualche fluttuazio¬ ne nella rappresentazione e
definizione delle tre funzioni c notoria¬ mente della prima: o il re è
superiore, o per lo meno esterno alla strut¬ tura trifunzionale, e allora
la prima funzione è centrala sulla pura amministrazione del sacro, sul sacerdote
piuttosto che sul potere, sul sovrano e i suoi ministri; oppure il re
(re-sacerdote più che governato¬ re) è al contrario il più eminente
rappresentante di queste funzioni. Oppure si presenta una
mescolanza variabile di clementi presi dalle tre funzioni e in special
modo dalla seconda, dalla funzione e dal¬ la classe guerriera da cui
solitamente proviene: il nome differenziale dei guerrieri indiani,
ksutriyu, non ha forse per sinonimo quello di ràjanya, derivato dalla
parola ràjanl Queste difficoltà, insieme ad altre, potranno essere
meglio for¬ mulale, se non risolte, quando avremo indirizzato lo studio
su ciò che fu l’armatura più solida del pensiero di questa società
arcaiche: il siste¬ ma divino, la teologia e i suoi prolungamenti
mitologici ed epici. § 1. V.M. AFTE, «Were castes formulateci in thè age of thè
Rig Veda?», Bull, of thè Decenti College Research Institute, II, pp.
34-36. Per brahman vedi L. RENOU, «Sur la nolion de bràhman», JA,
CCXXXVII, 1949, pp. 1 -46. Questa interpretazione, facile da conciliare
con i fatti iranici segnalali da W.B. HENNTNG,' «Brahman», TPS, 1944, pp.
108-118, rende caduco il senso ammesso nel mio Flamen-Brahmnti (1935). Il
«Brahman» di P. THIE- ME, ZDMG, 102, 1952, non ha fatto avanzare
l’analisi e non altera il risultato dello studio di Renou. Circa i
rapporti del brahman e del flamen, vedi la mia discussione con J. GONDA (
Notes on Brahman, 1950) in RHR, CXXXVIII, 1950, pp. 255-258 eCXXXIX
1951,pp. 122-127; riprenderò prossimamente la questione di questi
rapporti. Come xsaQra in avestico, ksatrd è ambiguo in vedico e
appartiene per certi impieghi al vocabolario del «primo livello»; ma la
concordanza dell’uso classificatorio del sanscrito ksatriya per designare
l’uomo del secondo livello, di X5a0ra come nome dell’arcangelo sostituito
nello zoroastrismo a Indra, dio del secondo livello (vedi qui sotto II § 8) e
infi¬ ne di /Exscert-ieg come nome della famiglia degli uomini
differenzialmente “forti” nell’epopea degli Osseli (vedi sotto, 4),
garantisce che fin dai tempi indo-iranici questo termine fosse una
designazione tecnica dell’essenza del secondo livello. § 2.
DUMÉZIL, «La préhistoire indo-iranienne des castes», JA, CCXVI, 1930, pp.
109-130. B ENVENISTE, «Les classes sociales dans la tradilion ave-
stique», JA, CCXXI, 1932, pp. 117-134; «Les mages dans l’ancien Iran»,
Pubi, ile la Soc. cles Étuiles Iraniennes, n. 15,1938, pp. 6-13; «Tradilions
in- do-iraniennes su les classes sociales», JA, CCXXX, 1938, pp. 529-550;
H.S. NYBERG, Die Religione/} cles alteri Iran, 1938, pp. 89-91; DUMÉZIL,
JMQ, pp. 41-68 (= JMQ it. pp. 24-45). § 3. L’interpretazione
è stata progressivamente costituita negli articoli e nei libri citati al
§ 2, partendo da una suggestione di A. CHRISTENSEN, Le pre¬ mier homme...
I, 1918, pp. 137-140. § 4. JMQ, pp. 55-56 (= JMQ il., p. 35). Sulle
tradizioni degli Osseti vedi il mio Légemis sur les Nartes, 1930, c il
risultato delle grandi inchieste degli anni ‘40 pubblicale in Osetinskije
Nartskije Skazanija (Dzauzikau), 1948 (in osseto: Narty kailcliitce ibid.
1946). Il testo citalo di Turganov è nell’articolo «Klo takie
Narty?»,/zv. Oset. histit. Kraeveilenija, I (Vladikavzak), 1925, p.
373. § 5. Vedi la mia Lezione Inaugurale al Collège de Franco
(1949), pp. 15-19 e BGDSL, 78, 1956, p. 175-178. § 6. JMQ,
pp. 110-123 (=JMQ il. pp. 77-87). Sette anni più tardi, dopo la guerra,
T.G.E. POWELL ha ripreso la mia dimostrazione, «Ccltic Origins; a Stage
in thè Hnquiry», J. ofthe R. Anthropol. Institute, 78, 1948, pp. 71-79:
« Of greatest interest is thè recognition of a three folci clivision o f
society 44 among thepeoples concerned [Indiani,
Italici, Celti ],providing in thehighest rank a class oflearned and
sacred men, in tlie second warriors, and in thè lo- west thè ordinary
people » etc. Circa il nome di aire apparentato ad aiya, io credo che
bisogna rinunciare all’etimologia che accosta il nome dell’eroe ir¬
landese Eremon al dio indo-iranico Aryaman (vedi sotto III § 6) e in
conse¬ guenza sopprimere l’ultimo capitolo del mio Troisième Souverain,
1949. § 7-8. Questa analisi è stata fatta progressivamente in JMQ,
pp. 129-1 54 (= JMQ it., pp. 90-107); NR, pp. 86-127 (= JMQ it. pp.
230-263); JMQ IV, pp. I 13-134. In parte qui riproduco il riassuntode L'heritage...
pp. 127-130 e 190-209. Gli Umbri distinguevano nella società i
rappresentanti delle tre fun¬ zioni: «Ner - et uiro - dans les sociétés
italiques», REL, XXXI, 1953, pp. 183-189. § 8. Delle
obiezioni a questa analisi sono state lungamente esaminate in NR, cap. II
(= JMQ it. pp. 230-262), riassunto in L’heritage... pp. 196-201 e 229-23
1. Ho anche fatto notare che se Ranmes è utilizzato - «superbum
Rhamnetem» -come nomeproprioda Virgilio (Aen., IX. 327) è perdesignare un
re jce un augur ; che Lucer- sembrerebbe essere all’origine del nome
della gens Lucretia, una delle più militari delle leggende dei primi
tempi della Re¬ pubblica (e proprietaria del cognome Tricipitinus, che
senza dubbio allude a un mito del Tricefalo); che il radicale di
Titienses (F. BUCHELER, Kl. Sdir., Ili, 1930, pp. 75-80) si trova in
altre parole in rapporti diversi ma convergenti con la fecondità,
l’amore, la voluttà: questo conferma l’orientamento diffe¬ renziale di
ognuna delle tribù verso una delle tre funzioni. Ho infine ricercato
delle allusioni letterarie alle «tre funzioni» e ai loro rappresentanti,
come componenti di Roma o di altre società concepite a sua immagine: JMQ
IV, pp. 121-136; REL, XXIX, 1951, pp. 3 18-329; ma i testi degli storici
e quello di Properzio sono sufficienti. La questione dell’autenticità
della fusione dei Latini e dei Sabini alle origini di Roma è connessa a
questa ma differente, vedi sotto, II i? 17, nota. § 9. JMQ,
pp. 252-253 (=JMQ it., pp. 269-270); in compenso le classi do¬ riche sono
di un altro tipo, malgrado JMQ, pp. 254-257 (soppresso in JMQ it.). Un
recente studio di MARTIN P. NlLSSON sulle Phylae ioniche ( Cults, myths,
oracles andpolitics in ancient Greece, 1951, pp. 143-149) presenta delle
difficoltà che esaminerò altrove. L.R. PALMER ha brillantemente pro¬
posto di riconoscere la tripartizione sociale indoeuropea nei testi
micenei: TPS, 1954, pp. 18-53; Acliaeans and Indoeuropeans, an Inaugurai
Lecture, Oxford 1954, pp. 1 -22. Quanto ai «tre stati» della Repubblica
di Platone, vedi JMQ, pp. 257-261 (= JMQ it. pp. 170-171 ): « Se le più
antiche tradizioni degli Ioni conservano il ricordo di una divisione
funzionale quadripartita della so¬ cietà (sacerdoti, guerrieri,
agricoltori, artigiani), la città ideale di Platone non potrebbe forse
essere, nel senso più stretto, una reminiscenza indoeuro¬ pea? Essa è
costituita dalla concatenazione armoniosa di tre funzioni, tò
(pu7.CXKlKÓV O (3oi)A.EV>TlKÓV, TÒ ÈKlKO'UpiKÓV, TÒ XpimOtTlCTTUCÓV
«CUStO- 45 dum genus, uuxiliarii, questuarti»,
come traduce Marsilio Ficino, cioè i filo¬ sofi che governano, i
guerrieri che combattono e il terzo-stato, agricoltori e artigiani
riuniti, che crea la ricchezza. La solidarietà dei primi due gruppi al di
sopra del terzo è fortemente marcata, ma soprattutto l’originalità di ciascuno:
ogni stato agisce conformemente alla sua definizione, oìtceiojtpa/yia,
evita la confusione , 7toA.U7cpaynpoa'ùvE, e la Giustizia, fine ultimo della
vita politica, è assicurata. A ognuno degli stati corrisponde infine una
«formula di virtù» particolare: il terzo stato deve essere temperante,
acótppcov; alla temperanza i guerrieri devono aggiungere il coraggio,
àvSpeia; i «guardia¬ ni» saranno inoltre saggi, aotpoi. Tutto questo fa
immaginare, per quel po ’ che li si è praticati, i trattati
politico-religiosi dell’India: stessa definizione dei tre stati sociali;
stessa solidarietà dei primi due, ubhe vlrye; stesso anate¬ ma contro la
confusione, varnanàm samkaram,- stessa esortazione ad atte¬ nersi al modo
di azione a cui si appartiene, stessa distribuzione dei doveri e delle
virtù dello stato. I legislatori indiani e la Repubblica si fanno eco:
none forse perché essi recitano la medesima canzone ancestrale?... Che si
pensi a tutte le vie per le quali questa «filosofia indoeuropea»
tripartita ha potuto di¬ scendere fino a Platone: non solo le tradizioni
sulle origini degli Ioni, ma i contatti molteplici con quel conservatore
di dottrine, non ariane, ma anche ariane, che fu l'impero degli Ac he me
nidi; l'orfismo, in cui deiframmenti del¬ la scienza dei sacerdoti traci
e frigi si sono depositati e in cui non mancavano le triadi; il
pitagorismo, su cui Henri Hubert ci invitava, vent’anni or sono, a non
trascurare le componenti «iperboree»; infine il folklore...» Cf. qui
sotto § 18, per le applicazioni psicologiche della divisione tripartita
nell’India e in Platone. § 10. Cf. i riferimenti al § 5. Sui
marianni (egiziano ma-ra-ya-na\ cunei¬ forme mar-ya-an-nu ; forse come
l’ha proposto Albrighl, dall’accusativo plu¬ rale arya mdrycin + la
terminazione hurrita -ni), vedi R.T. O’CALLAGHAN, «New light on thè
Maryannu as chariot-warrior», Jb. f kleinas. Forschung, 1951, pp.
308-324. I libri fondamentali quelli di S. WtKANDER, Der arische
Mannerbund, 1938 e H. LOMMEL, Der arische Kriegsgott, 1939, da confron¬
tare con O. HÒFLER, Kultische Geheimbùnde der Germanen, I, 1934. Una
delle grosse differenze tra il «Mannerbund» degli Indiani e quello dei Germa¬
ni consiste nel fatto che il primo appartiene a Indra (non a Varuna), mentre
il secondo a Ódinn (e non a Pórr): effetto dell’evoluzione della
«funzione guer¬ riera» presso i Germani (cf. II § 22); vedi MDG, p. 92,
n. 1 e più specificata- mente, J. De VRIES, Altgerman. Rei. - Gesch., II,
1957, §§ 405-412. § 11. Un’interpretazione delle corrispondenze del
tipo «33» fra Roma e l’India vedica è proposta in JMQ IV, pp. 156-170 (=
JMQ it., pp. 389-405), L'heritage..., pp. 213-227.1 «33 dèi» vedici sono
ripartiti frai tre piani del mondo (JMQ IV, pp. 30-33; riassunto in DIE,
pp. 7-9) essi stessi in rapporto con le tre funzioni (JMQ, p. 65 = JMQ
it. pp. 42-43 ). Il carattere indo-iranico dei «33 dèi» è garantito dalla
concezione avestica dei «33 ratu» (spiriti pro- 46
tettori o prototipi delle diverse specie di esseri): JMQIV, pp.
158-159(=JMQ it., pp. 294-395), secondo J. Darmesteter e S.
Wikander. § 12. È nel suo articolo «Traditions indo-iraniennes sur
les classes socia - les», JA, CCXXX, 1938, pp. 529-549, che E. BENVENISTE
ha per la prima volta mostrato, al di fuori dell’India vera e propria in
cui il fatto era ben cono¬ sciuto, che l’ideologia tripartita supera
largamente l’organizzazione sociale che finalmente non appare più se non
come un’applicazione particolare. Come disse all’inizio di un altro
articolo, per riassumere l’insegnamento di questo («Symbolisme social
dans les cultes gréco-italiques» RHR, CXXXIX, 1945, p. 5): «La elivisione
della societe'i in tre classi, sacerdoti, guerrieri, agricoltori, è un principio
di cui gli Indo-Iranici avevano piena co¬ scienza e che presentava ai
loro occhi l’autorità e la necessità di un fatto na¬ turale. Questa
classificazione regge così profondamente l’universo indo-iranico che il
suo dominio reale supera largamente le enunciazioni esplìcite degli inni
e dei rituali. Si è potuto dimostrare [JA, 1938, p. 529 e segg.] che
varie rappresentazioni sono state con formate e che sono fuori dal¬ la
sfera propria del sociale, al punto che ogni de finizione di una totalità con¬
cettuale tende inconsciamente a riflettere il quadro tripartito che
organizza la società degli uomini. Da parte sua, G. Dumézil, in una serie
di brillanti stu¬ di ha riportato sino alla comunità indoeuropea
l’origine di questa classifica¬ zione, scoprendola nei miti e nelle
leggende dell ’Europa occidentale antica e principalmente -è l'oggetto
del suo libro Jupiter, Mars, Quirinus - nella reli¬ gione romana». Le
posizioni variabili della «tecnica» in rapporto alla tripar¬ tizione
sociale sono esaminate in «Les métiers et les classes fonclionnelles chez
divers peuples indoeuropéens» che sarà pubblicato quest’anno in Anna-
les. Economies, Sociétés, Civilisations. § 13. BENVENISTE,
«Traditions indo-iran. sur les classes sociales», JA CCXXX, 1938, pp.
543-545; DUMÉZIL, «Triades de calamités et triades de délits à valeur
trifonclionnelle chez divers peuples indoeuropéens», Ltito- mus, XIV,
1955, pp. 173-185. § 14. BENVENISTE, «La doctrine médical des
Indo-Européens», RHR, CXXX, 1945, pp. 5-12; Dumézil, art. cit. al
paragrafo precedente, p. 184, n.2. § 15. JMQ, pp. 114-115 (= JMQ
it., p. 80) § 17. «Les trois fonctions et le droit romain selon L.
Gerschel», frammenti di una memoria inedita di L. G., pubblicata in appendice
a JMQ IV, pp. 170-176. § 18. Per Platone e l’India vedi JMQ,
pp. 259-260 (=JMQ it., pp. 171 -172) «Dopo aver scoperto la formula
tripartita della società, Platone si volge sull’individuo, sull'«Uno
umano» e in questo microcosmo ritrova gli stessi elementi in una stessa
gerarchia, le stesse condizioni di armonia comandano le medesime virtù.
L'uomo giusto, dal punto di vista della giustizia, non diffe¬ risce in
niente dallo Stato giusto; ha in sé l'equivalente dei saggi, dei guerrie¬
ri, degli uomini ricchi: questi sono i principi della conoscenza, della
flussione e dell ’appetito , xò à.oyi0xixóv, xò 0upoEi6éq, xò
È7U0'ujìtixikóv,- che effli subordina in modo tale che il secondo aiuti
il primo, in modo che i due primi dominino insieme questo temibile terzo
che è in ogni uomo la parte più considerevole dell’anima e che è per
natura insaziabile di ricchezze; poi¬ ché apre alla saggezza, al coraggio
e alta temperanza gli spazi spirituali che convengono a loro; egli sarà
ciò che deve essere. Allo stesso modo l’India, con l’instabilità delle
rappresentazioni e delle formulazioni che le è propria, compone l’anima o
meglio l'involucro dell’anima, di tre guna al pari della società e
dell'universo: queste qualità, che furono inizialmente luce, crepu¬ scolo
e tenebra, sattva, rajas e tamas, sia perla loro presenza isolata che per
la loro combinazione, costituiscono gli individui e lo Stato: talvolta il
senso della legge morale, della passione e dell’interesse, dharma, kama e
artha, si uniscono in una triade equivalente a quella dei guna e il loro
equilibrio lode¬ vole o biasimevole definisce i tipi umani; talvolta,
seguendo uno schema prettamente indiano, è la conoscenza serena,
l’attività inquieta o l’ignoran¬ za fonte di errori, che si disputano il
nostro effimero edificio e questa sempli¬ ce enumerazione disegna una
terapeutica...» Per l’Irlanda e la regina Medb vedi JMQ, pp. 115 -116 (=
JMQ it., pp. 80-82); è la stessa Medb che commen¬ ta chiaramente la sua
seconda e terza esigenza: il suo sposo dovrà essere valo¬ roso in guerra
e anche generoso di beni quanto lei; circa la prima si spiega in questi
termini; non bisogna che mio marito sia geloso poiché «non sono mai stata
senza un uomo nell’ombra di un altro » - allusione alle costanti competi¬
zioni intorno alla regalità irlandese che Medb incarna e conferisce. Nella
lon¬ tana posterità di Platone, Claudiano, De quarto consul. Hon.,
espone magnificamente la teoria della tre parti dell’ anima (o delle tre
anime) c ritro¬ va, v. 259, una formula analoga alle tre esigenze di Medb
(ma col «timore» al primo livello: si metuis, sipraua cupis, si duceris
ira; seruitiipaliere iugum... - Per «Zoroastro tripartito» vedi K.
Barr, «Irans profet som xéXeioq avOptonoq», Festkr. tilL.L. Hammerich,
1952, pp. 26-36. § 19. Perii talismano dei Tualha De Danann, vedi
JMQ, cap. VII (soppri¬ mendo le pagine 241-245). Per gli oggetti vedici
(la Vacca magica per il dio-cappellano Brhaspati, due cavalli bai
pcrlndra, ilearro a tre ruote che ser¬ ve agli Aévin per portare la loro
benevolenza al mondo: p. es. RV, I, 161, 6) e scandinavi (P anello magico
per Odinn, il martello per Pórr, il cinghiale dalle setole d’oro per
Freyr) vedi Tarpeia, IV («Mamurius Veturius»), pp. 205-246. §
20. Nei rituali vedici vi sono tracce di un’antica assegnazione del nero
ai vaiéya: per costruire la sua casa un indiano sceglie un suolo
diversamente co¬ lorato, bianco per un brahmano, rosso per uno ksatrya e
per un vaiéya, giallo secondo certi trattati ( Àsvalàyana G.S., II, 8, 8)
e nero secondo altri ( Gobhila G.S., 7, 7; Khàdira G.S., IV, 2, 12). Per
la tradizione iranica vedi in ultimo luogo ZaEHNER, Zurvan, 1955, pp.
118-125 (testo del Grande Bundahisn c del Denkart, pp. 321-336 e
374-378). Per il rituale hittita vedi BasaNOFF, Euocatio, 1947, pp.
141-150. 48 § 21. DUMÉZIL, Rituels cap. Ili
(«Albati, russati, virides») e IV («Ve- xillum caeruleum»); J. DE VRIES,
«Rood, wit, zwart», Volkskimde, II, 1942, pp. 1-10. § 22.
MOLE, «Le partage du monde dans la tradition des Iraniens», JA, CCXL,
1952, pp. 456-458. § 23. DUMÉZIL, «Les trois fonctions dans
quelques traditions grecques» Eventail de l'histoire vivante (= Mèi. L.
Febvre ), I, 1954, pp. 25-32, dove sono studiate in questo senso il
«Kroisos-Logos» di Erodoto e certe forme dell’apologo di Mida e del
Sileno; L. GERSCHEL, «Sur un schème trifon- ctionnel dans une famille de
légendes germaniques», RHR, CL, 1956, pp. 55-92, in cui sono esaminati
due tipi imparentati di leggende, una che com¬ porta l’opzione proposta a
un individuo fra tre «offerte funzionali» (es. l’origine di «Jodeln»
citata nel testo) e l’altra che presenta tre fratelli che si spartiscono
tre doni funzionali il cui valore si rivela disuguale a vantaggio del
dono della prima funzione (es. il gruppo di leggende di cui Ch. PRÉVOT
D’ARLINCOURT, Le Pélerin, III, 1842, pp. 268-291 ha pubblicato un buon
esempio). § 24. L. GERSCHEL, «Structures augurales et tripartition
fonctionnelle dans la pensée del’ancienneRome», JP, 1952, pp. 47-77.
L’estrema antichità e il carattere indoeuropeo di certe concezioni e
pratiche augurali di Roma (la parola augur è indoeuropea) sono state
stabilite in diversi articoli: «L’inscription archaique du Forum et
Cicéron, De divin., Il, 36», RSR, XXXIX-XL ( =Mél. J. Lebreton. I), 1951,
pp. 17-29, prolungata da «Le iuges auspicium et les incongruités du
taureau attelé de Mugdala», NC, V, 1953, pp. 249-266; Rituels..., cap. II
(«Aedes rotunda Vestae»); «Les trois premiè- res regiones caeli de
Martianus Capei la», Coll. Latomus, XXIII ( =Homm. A M. Niedermamì),
1956, pp. 102-107. Sulla parola augur e la sua preistoria in¬ doeuropea,
vedi «Remarques sur augur, augustus», REL, XXXV, 1957, pp. 126-151.
§ 25. Aspects..., p. 63-101 («Les trois péchésdu guerrier»). Citiamo
anco¬ ra L. GERSCHEL, «Coriolan», Eventail de l’Histoire vivante (=Mél.
L. Feb¬ vre), II, 1954, pp. 33-40: Coriolano, accampatosi davanti a Roma,
resiste alle ambasciate dei suoi compagni d’arme, poi a quella di tutto
il corpo sacerdo¬ tale rivestito delle sue insegne sacre e con gli
strumenti di culto, ma cede alla terza, a quella di tutte le donne di
Roma che portano i loro bambini - la «parte germinativa» di Roma -
condotte dalla sua propria madre e da sua moglie. § 26. Sulla
diversità delle posizioni del re in rapporto alle tre funzioni, vedi la
mia comunicazione al Vili Congresso Internazionale di Storia delle
Religioni (Roma 1956), «Le rex et les flamines maiores», riassunta negli
Atti..., 1956, pp. 118-120. Sul re germanico nella prospettiva
trifunzionale vedi J. DE VRIES, «Das Kònigtum bei den Germanen»,
Saeculum, VII, 1956, pp. 289-309. 49
Capitolo secondo Le teologie tripartite 1.
Espressione teologica dell’ideologia delle tre funzioni Le teologie
dei diversi popoli indoeuropei non sono essenzial¬ mente degli accumuli
incoerenti di dèi stratificati dai flussi e riflussi fortuiti della
storia. In ogni luogo su cui siamo sufficientemente infor¬ mati è facile
riconoscere un gruppo centrale di divinità solidali che si definiscono le
une con le altre e che si spartiscono le province del sa¬ cro, secondo il
piano spiegato nel capitolo precedente. Questi gruppi sono stati per
lungo tempo, a seconda dei casi, trascurati, negati o mal compresi.
Il loro riconoscimento - e notoriamente quello del gruppo itali¬ co
e mitanno di cui si discusse inizialmente (1938, ma soprattutto a partire
dal 1945)-èall’origine dei principali progressi dei nostri studi;
all’origine anche di numerose discussioni spesso gradevoli, talvolta
penose, ma generalmente utili, tra il comparatista e lo specialista dei
diversi ambiti. 2. Gli dèi caratteristici delle tre funzioni negli
inni e nei RITUALI VEDICI I sacerdoti dell’India vedica,
in un certo numero di circostanze rituali importanti, associano (per
delle invocazioni, delle offerte o del¬ le enumerazioni classificatorie)
i due sovrani dell’universo, Mitra e Varuna, il dio guerriero per
eccellenza, lnd(a)ra, c i due gemelli, quasi sempre designati al duale
con un nome collettivo, i Ncisatya o Asvin, guaritori, datori di
discendenza e di ogni sorta di bene. Talvolta al se¬ condo livello,
evidentemente per analogia col raggruppamento bina¬ rio del primo e terzo
livello, Indra compare associato a un altro dio, spesso variabile (Vàyu, Agni,
Surya, Visnu). Abbiamo già visto (I § 18) questo insieme divino
(Mitra-Varuna, i due ASvin, Indra con Agni o Sùrya), invocati per
ottenere la formazione di un feto maschio, obiet¬ tivo più importante in
questi tempi arcaici che non oggi. L’ordine di numerazione mette
gli ASvin al secondo posto, pri¬ ma di Indra poiché si tratladi una
nascita, cioè di un avvenimento che è propriamente del loro ambilo. Con
un’alterazione differente dell’ordi¬ ne che mette più in evidenza Indra,
questo raggruppamento costituisce la lista dei principali «dèi in coppia»
invocali al momento culminante della spremitura mattutina del soma (il
sacrificio tipico); sono Indra-Vàyu, Mitra-Varuna c i due ASvin (vedi il
Sat. Bruhm., IV, 1, 3-5) ed è lui che comanda il piano di un certo numero
di inni del Rive¬ da ispirati da questo rituale. Il contesto
di questi inni è sovente istruttivo, garantisce e illu¬ stra il valore
funzionale di ogni livello divino: per esempio in I, 139 Indra-Vàyu sono
caratterizzati dalla presenza, vicino a loro c nella stessa strofa ( 1),
della parola sàrdhas, termine tecnico che designa il battaglione dei
giovani guerrieri divini: la strofa di Mitra-Varuna (2) è riempita dalla
nozione di rtù c dnrta, cioè dell’Ordine cosmico e mo¬ rale e dal suo
contrario; gli ASvin (3) sono invece presentati come i si¬ gnori delle
due varietà di «vitalità», srlyah e prksah. Nei due inni
complementari (I, 2 e 3), Indra-Vàyu sono qualifi¬ cati come nani, «Mànner,
eroi» (2, slr. 6); di Mitra-Varuna (2, str. 8) è detto che «con l'Ordine,
curando l'ordine, hanno raggiunto un’elevata efficienza »; quanto agli
Asvin, « donano gioia a molti» (3, slr. 1). 3. Lis ti-:
ascendenti e discenden ti Più spesso l’ordine canonico sia
ascendente che discendente è rispettato. Ecco inizialmente due casi molto
«puri» in cui Indra è solo al suo livello. 52
Nel rituale arcaico e minuzioso d’erezione dell’importante alta¬
re del fuoco, al momento in cui si tracciano i sacri solchi che devono
li¬ mitare l’area, viene fatta un’invocazione alla vacca mitica,
Kàmadhuk («quella che quando la si munge dona ciò che si
desidera»). L’invocazione contiene la sequenza divina che ci riguarda,
nel senso discendente, con un prolungamento che ne garantisce i valori
funzio¬ nali: «Produci come latte ciò che desiderano, a Mitra e Varuna,
a Indra, ai due Asvin, a Pùsan (dio del bestiame e talvolta dei
sfidra), alle creature, alle piante!» (cf. Éat. Brdhm., VII, 2, 2, 12).
In una tale numerazione ordinata, al di sopra delle piante, degli animali
ed even¬ tualmente degli uomini non-arya, Milra-Varuna, Indra e gli Asvin
non possono patrocinare che tre varietà di uomini arya, quelli che
corri¬ spondono rispettivamente e gerarchicamente alle loro tre nature.
In un sacrificio offerto per ottenere certe prosperità, gli stessi
dèi sono invocati nell’ordine ascendente con un complimento colletti¬ vo
ed esauriente (Taittir. Sarnh. , II, 3, 10, 1 b): «tu sei il soffio degli
dèi Asvin... tu sei il soffio di Indra... tu sei il soffio di
Mitra-Varuna... tusei il soffio di Tutti gli Dèi!». Con Agni
associato ad Indra, nell’ordine discendente, si osser¬ va la stessa
sequenza all’inizio di un lesto speculativo molto interes¬ sante ( RV ,
X, 125 = A V, IV, 30 con una leggera variante nell’ordine delle strofe):
è il famoso inno panteista, messo nella bocca di un perso¬ naggio che è
senza dubbio Vàc, la Parola, c che in ogni caso si presenta come il
supporto e l’essenza comune di tutto ciò che esiste. La prima
strofa è questa: «Io vado con i Rudra, con i Vasu, con gli Àditya e con
Tutti gli Dèi! Sono io che sostengo tutti e due Mi¬ tra-Varuna; sono io
che sostengo Indra-Agni, io che sostengo i due Asvin!». È degno di nota
che nelle strofe seguenti, analizzando la pro¬ pria polivalenza o, come
ella dice, i « diversi luoghi » c «soggiorni» in cui «glidèi l’hanno
introdotta » (RV, str. 3 =A Vslr. 2), Vàc metta in ri¬ salto, come parti
della sua opera in rapporto agli uomini (RV str. 4, 5, 6 =AV str. 4, 3,
5) il nutrimento e la vita, poi la parola «assaporata dagli dèi e dagli
uomini» e il bene che concede ai personaggi sacri (bruh- man, rsi),
infine l’arco «la freccia che uccide il nemico del brahmàn» c il
combattimento. È chiaro che, qualunque sia l’intenzione dottrinale
(si è parlato in quest’occasione di Logos ncoplalonico), questo poema
utilizza nelle sue espressioni il più antico sistema concettuale degli Arya:
con la sua esposizione di nozioni parallele (dèi, azioni) conferma che la
se¬ quenza Mitra-Varuna, Indra (solo o accompagnato) e i due Asvin
riu¬ nisce i patroni e le espressioni teologiche delle tre
funzioni. 4. Gli dei arya dei Mitanni Talvolta
leggermente ritoccata, secondo preoccupazioni che è spesso possibile comprendere,
questa stessa sequenza si ritrova in di¬ versi testi dell’India arcaica,
ma ora voglio giungere senza indugio a un documento molto
importante. È risaputo che tra gli Indo-Iranici un ramo parlante
sia il futuro «indiano-vedico», che un dialetto molto vicino a quelli che
si possono chiamare «para-indiani», invece di emigrare verso Est, verso
l’Indo e il Panjab, deviò verso Ovest, presso l’Eufrate e fino alla
Palestina, in¬ correndo in un destino brillante ma effimero e lasciando
sue tracce in molti scritti cuneiformi. Mentrei loro fratelli
orientali, autori degli inni vedici, sfuggono alla storia, questi,
circondali da popoli archivisti e armati di una scrit¬ tura, sono
localizzabili e databili con una grande precisione. Sono loro che hanno
fatto tremare e talvolta crollare antichi reami del Vicino Oriente con le
loro bande di guerrieri specialisti, di cui si c parlato più sopra,
quelli che i testi babilonesi ed egiziani chiamano marianni. Il
gruppo più interessante di questi «Para-Indiani» è quello che,
inquadrando e dirigendo un popolo di altra origine, ha fondato nella metà
del secondo millennio, sulle bocche deH’Eufrate, l’impero hurri- ta dei
Mitanni, che per un certo tempo Hittiti ed Egiziani hanno dovuto trattare
da pari a pari. Nel 1907, a Bogazkòy, negli archivi di un re
hittita, gli scavi hanno scoperto in diversi esemplari il testo di un
trattato concluso da questo principe, verso il 1380, col suo vicino dei
Mitanni, il re Mati- waza. Restaurato sul suo trono dall 'Hittita che gli
aveva inoltre donato sua figlia, il Mitan no stabilì un’alleanza col suo
benefattore nella debi¬ ta forma. Il testo enumera le
maledizioni celesti in cui egli accetta di in¬ correre se mancherà alla
parola. Secondo l’uso, i due contraenti con¬ vocano come garanti tutti
gli dèi che i loro due imperi riconoscono. Fra gli dèi mitanni, vicino a
un gran numero di dei sconosciuti e di altri riconoscibili come divinità
locali o babilonesi, s’incontra una sequen¬ za che è stata immediatamente
identificata dagli indianisti e su cui i fi¬ lologi hanno lungamente
lavorato, esaminando le particolarità grafi¬ che e grammaticali del
testo. Oggi renumerazione si può rendere con sicurezza nel modo
seguente: «Gli dèi Mitra-(V)aruna [variante Uruvcma] in coppia, il
dio Indura [var. Inclar], i due dèi Nàsatyu ...». Per più di
trentanni, senza aver preso in visione i documenti ve¬ dici principali
citati, si sono proposte per questa riunione di dèi delle spiegazioni
strane (W. Schulz, 1916-17) o insufficienti (S. Konow, 1921 ). Il danese
A. Christensen ( 1926) con un’analisi serrata si è avvi¬ cinato alla
verità, riconoscendo che Mitra-Varuna, Indra e i Nàsalya non compaiono a
Bogazkòy come tecnici di atti diplomatici, né come interessali di questa
o quella clausola particolare, ad esempio matri¬ moniale, del trattalo,
ma poiché erano «dèi principali» della società arya. Sfortunatamente egli
ha «pensato» questo stato maggiore solo nel quadro dualista
dell’opposizione *asura-daiva preminente nell’I¬ ran, reale ma meno
importante nell’India vedica, c l’ha ripartito artifi¬ cialmente,
contrariamente alle indicazioni del testo, in due gruppi, Mitra-Varuna da
una parte e Indra-Nàsatya dall'altra. E solo nel 1940, grazie a un
dossierve dico delle tre funzioni e ai testi vedici che associano gli
stessi dèi presenti nel trattalo di Bogaz¬ kòy, che è apparsa
l’interpretazione più semplice che io ho riassunto in questi termini nel
1945: «A Boguzkòy, sotto Mitra-Varuna, dèi della sovranità che
pa¬ trocinano ciò che è sacro e ciò che è giusto, dèi della regalità coi
suoi necessari ausiliari, sacerdoti e giuristi, Indura e i Nàsatyu,
rappre¬ sentanti duplici di uno stesso tipo di dèi, non sono sullo stesso
piano: a un secondo livello vi è Indura, dio della funzione guerriera e
dell’ari¬ stocrazia militare dei marianni; poi, a un livello ancora
inferiore vi sono i patroni del terzo-stato, i Nàsatyu. Nominando questi
dèi insie¬ me e in quest’ordine, il re fa due operazioni precise: vincola
con se stesso tutta la società del suo reame, presentata nella sua forma
rego¬ lare, ed evoca le tre grandi province del destino e della
provvidenza. Questo corrisponde del resto alla stesura delle maledizioni
che accettu di attirarsi in caso eli spergiuro: tutto passa ampiamente dalla sua
persona al suo popolo e alla sua terra-sterilità, espulsione e oblio,
odio generale da parte degli dèi ». 5. Connotati degli dèi
caratteristici delle tre funzioni NELLA RELIGIONE VEDICA
Non sarà inutile, per agevolare il lettore nelle analisi
particolari che seguiranno, precisare ora in qualche parola, nella
prospettiva delle tre funzioni, gli orientamenti e i limiti di questi
diversi dèi che gli ar¬ chivi di Bogazkòy, confermando le formule degli
inni e dei rituali in¬ diani, comprovano essere un raggruppamento
formulare pre-vedico. Ecco come questi valori sono stati riassunti nel
mio piccolo libro Les dieux des Indo-Européens (1952). «Non è
un caso se il primo livello è spesso rappresentato da due dèi: nella sovranità
che questi antichi indiani concepivano vi erano due facce, due metà
antitetiche ma complementari e ugualmente ne¬ cessarie, incarnate e
patrocinate da due «re», Mitra e Varuna. Se dal punto di vista dell'uomo
Varuna è un signore inquietante, terribile, possessore della màyà, cioè
della magia creatrice delle forme, armato di nodi e di reti, che opera
cioè avvinghiameli immediati e irresistibili, Mitra, il cui nome
significa Contratto, e anche Amico, è rassicurante e benevolo, protettore
degli atti e dei rapporti onesti e stabiliti, estraneo alla violenza.
L'uno, Varuna, dice un testo celebre, è l’altro mondo; questo mondo è
invece Mitra. Varuna è più despota, più dio stesso se così si può dire;
Mitra è quasi un sacerdote divino. Più che della prima funzione, Varuna sembra
avere maggiori affinità con la seconda, violenta e guerriera; Mitra, per
la tranquilla prospe¬ rità che dischiude grazie, alla terza.
L'opposizione è così netta che da tempo si sono potuti sottolineare i
tratti quasi demoniaci di Varuna: non è forse l’àsura per eccellenza ? E
nelle forme post-vediche della religione, come già in molte strofe del
Rgveda, gli usura non sono for¬ se dei misteriosi demoni? In Ind(a)ra si
riassumono tutte altre cose: i movimenti, i seni zi, le necessità della
forza brutale che applicate alla battaglia producono vittoria, bottino e
potenza. Questo campione vo¬ race, armato di folgore, uccide i demoni e
salva l’universo, per com¬ piere le sue imprese si inebria di soma che
dona vigore e furore. Egli è il danzatore, nrtti; il suo splendido e
ardente seguito è formato dai Marut, trasposizione atmosferica del
battaglione dei giovani guerrie¬ ri, màrya. Per lui e per essi si esprime
una morale dell'exploit e dell'esuberanza che si oppone all'onnipotenza
immediata e rigorosa, come alla benevolente moderazione che si riunisce
nel primo livello. Gli dèi canonici dell'ultimo livello, i Ndsatya o
Asvin, non esprimono che una parte del dominio complesso tipico della
terz.a funzione. Sono soprattutto datori di salute, giovinezza e
fecondità, dèi taumaturghi soccorritori degli infermi, degli amanti, dei
figli senza fidanzata o del bestiame sterile. Ma la terza funzione è
molto più di tutto questo, non solo salute e giovinezza ma nutrimento,
abbondanza in uomini e in beni, cioè massa sociale e ricchezza economica,
attaccamento al suolo, a questa gioia tranquilla e stabile dei beni, che
si esprime in sanscrito con l'importante radice ksi Anche gli Asvin sono
spesso rinforzati al loro livello dagli dèi e dalle dee che garantiscono
altri aspetti della terza funzione, come la vita animale, l’opulenza, la
maternità ( Pùsan, Puramdhi, Dravinodà, il «Signore dei Campi», SarusvatT
ed altre dee madri) o ancora, che presiedono al carattere plurale,
collettivo, tota¬ le («Tutti-gli-Dèi», paradossalmente concepiti come una
classe parti¬ colare di dei) espresso dal plurale virali, i clan che
Rgveda Vili, 35 oppone come etichetta della terza funzione ai singolari
neutri bràh- man e ksatrà, caratteristici delle due funzioni
supreme». Abbiamo qui un buon esempio di struttura, una teologia
artico¬ lata difficile da pensare come formata da un assemblaggio di
pezzi e frammenti: l’insieme c il piano condizionano i dettagli; ogni
tipo divi¬ no nel suo orientamento proprio esige la presenza di tutti gli
altri e non si definisce che per rapporto agli altri, con la vivacità che
solo l’antitesi produce. Il riconoscimento di questa sequenza divina e
del suo carattere prc-vcdico ha permesso di compiere, nel 1945, un passo
decisivo nell'interpretazione delle religioni iraniche c di rendere con¬
to di un tratto importante della teologia aveslica da tempo osservalo.
6. Gli dèi indo-iranici delle tre funzioni nella riforma
ZOROASTRIANA Sotto il nome di Zoroastro si è avuta una profonda
riforma che ha notevolmente alteralo il paganesimo ancestrale, somma di
una serie di riforme progressive nello stesso senso. Tuttavia,
considerando il ri¬ sultato storicamente attestato di questo processo
riformatoree il punto di partenza preistorico, determinabile poiché era
sicuramente vicino allo schema vedico e pre-vedico oggi riconosciuto,
certe linee direttri¬ ci del movimento appaiono immediatamente.
Nell’Ave.vra nongàthico, dove è mitigato l’intransigente mono¬
teismo delle Gùthà e dove, sotto il gran dio Ahura Mazda - senza dub¬ bio
anche lui sublimazione dell’Asura supremo, quello che l’India chiama
Varuna, - ricompaiono delle figure mitiche di alto rango che portano i
nomi dei principali dèi della lista di Bogazkòy (MiGra, Indra,
Nàr|ai0ya). È degno di nota che Mi0ra resti un dio, mentre Indra (al pari
di un altro dio, Saurva, il vedico Sarva, che è in rapporto differen¬ te,
ma certo, con la forza e la violenza) e Nàr]ai0ya - enunciati ancora
sempre in quest’ordine come nelle formule indiane in cui i Nàsatya se¬
guono Indra - sono i nomi dei grandi demoni: segno di una riforma che
(operata da sacerdoti, uomini della prima funzione, e destinata a im¬
porre uniformemente a tutta la società mazdaica la morale elevata del
primo livello purificalo) ha rigettato, anatemizzato, demonizzato i pa¬
troni divini che tradizionalmente rappresentavano e giustificavano al¬
tri comportamenti come lo scatenamento guerriero c l’orgia, meno
sanguinante ma certo non meno libera, dei culti della fecondità. 7.
Le Entità zoroastriane Quanto alla nuova teologia monoteista allo
stato puro, quella delle Gùthà, essa riposa, in un’altra maniera, sullo
stesso schema. Il tratto saliente è 1’esistenza di un gruppo di Entità
astratte associate al Gran Dio unico. Queste Entità non hanno ancora un
nome collettivo, ma sono quelle che si vedranno in seguilo costantemente
raggruppate in un ordine fisso, sotto il nome di Amasa Spanta, gli
Immortali Bene¬ fìci (o Efficaci). Si è discusso a lungo per sapere se
nelle Gùthà queste Entità siano già delle creature o delle emanazioni
separate da Dio - una sorta di arcangeli - o semplicemente degli aspetti
di Dio, ma questo non cambia niente quanto al problema delle loro origini
che qui ci inte¬ ressa. La lingua e lo stile delle Gùthà sono molto
oscuri, di un’oscurità volontaria e raffinata, ma fortunatamente per
orientarsi si dispone di talune considerazioni che non dipendono dalle
incertezze di parola per parola. 1) Il senso e la struttura grammaticale dei
nomi che designano le Entità forniscono qualche insegnamento. 2) Le
strofe che contengo¬ no quasi tutti i nomi di una o più Entità sono assai
numerose per per¬ mettere delle osservazioni statistiche - frequenza
relativa di ogni Enti¬ tà, frequenza delle loro associazioni diverse -
che rivelano dei tratti molto importanti del sistema. Per esempio, se
l’intenzione, la forma e lo stile di questi inni lirici non costringono
il poeta a presentare le Enti¬ tà in lista nel loro ordine razionale,
come faranno più tardi i testi rituali in prosa, tuttavia la tavola delle
frequenze di menzione delle Entità, prese separatamente e in conseguenza
delle importanze relative che i poeti le attribuiscono, riproduce
esattamente l’ordine gerarchico che esse avranno in seguito sotto il nome
di Amaste Spanta: questa gerar¬ chia dunque esisteva già. 3) Un altro
elemento d’interpretazione è for¬ nito dalla lista degli «elementi
materiali» che la tradizione associerà, parola per parola, alla lista
delle Entità, gemellaggio a cui gli inni stes¬ si fanno allusioni certe e
precise. 4) Infine, nell’À vesta non gàthico, ad ognuna delle Entità è
opposto un arcidemone che in molti casi le chia¬ rifica. Il quadro è il
seguente: Entità astratte Elementi materiali arcidemoni
opposti PATROCINATI 1) VohuManah bue (Il
Buon Pensiero) 2) Asa (l’Ordine) fuoco 3) XsaGra (la
Potenza) metallo 4) Àrmaiti (il Pensiero terra Pio)
5) Haurvatà( acque (l’Integrità, la Salute) 6)
AmarstàJ (la piante Non-Morte, l’Immortalità) 8.
Gli dèi indo-iranici delle tre funzioni, trasposti nelle
ENTITÀ Arcangeli o aspetti di Dio, in qualunque modo si
interpretino le Entità, questo quadro suscita delle domande: perché
questi gli eletti e Il Cattivo Pensiero Indra
Saurva NàqaiOya La Sete La Fame
non altri che sarebbero più facilmente concepibili? Perché, non
dispo¬ nendo che di così poco posto, gli autori del sistema ne hanno in
qual¬ che modo sprecato una alla fine, raddoppiando la Salute con
rimmortalità, che quasi senza eccezioni è nominata insieme ad essa?
Perché questi posti precisi - 2, 3, 4 - conferiti ai tre arcidemoni che
sono antichi dèi funzionali condannati dalla riforma? Un confronto
delle Entità zoroastrianc con la lista vedica e mi¬ tannica degli dèi
funzionali, mostra dove bisogna cercare la soluzione d’insieme.
1 ) Le ultime due, fra i cui nomi vi è assonanza e che sono presso
a poco inseparabili, ricordano per le nozioni così simili che esprimo¬
no, per gli elementi materiali associali c per il loro posto gerarchico,
i gemelli Nàsatya, indissociabili, donatori di salute e di vita,
ringiovani- tori dei vecchi, tecnici delle virtù medicali contenute nelle
acque c nel¬ le piante. 2) Prima di queste, la terza Entità è
la Terra in quanto madre, nu¬ trice e modello della padrona di casa
iranica: ricorda così la dea varia¬ bile (Sarasvatl, notoriamente) che si
vede talvolta unita ai Nàsatya nel¬ le enumerazioni vedichc che segnalano
la terza l’unzione. Così il dominio delle tre ultime Entità zoroastrianc,
designate tutte da sostan¬ tivi femminili, mentre quelle superiori sono
nominale da neutri (cf. in vcdico vis, femminile, contro brahman c
ksutriì, neutri), è quello della terza l’unzione. In più, nella persona di
Àrmaili, è a una Entità della ter¬ za funzione che il sistema oppone il
cattivo Nàqai0ya, demonizzazio¬ ne (ridotta a un unico personaggio) delle
due divinità canoniche della stessa funzione, i Nàsatya. 3)
Al di sopra, la terza Entità si chiama XsaOra, cioè la stessa pa¬ rola di
ksatni da cui deriverà il nome indiano degli ksatriya c che lin da Riveda
Vili, 35 caratterizza differenzialmente la seconda l'unzione, come
nell’epopea narta degli Osscli la forma a‘xsctrta , }> fornisce diffe¬
renzialmente il nome della famiglia degli croi forti. Il «metallo» che
gli è associato è il metallo in tulle le sue valenze, ma dei lesti
espliciti lo precisano come il metallo delle armi; l’arcidemonc a lui
opposto, Saurva, porla il nome vedico di Sarva, varietà di Rudra, personaggio
complesso che non può qui essere esaminato, ma che nella sua qualità di
arciere c di padre dei Marut è vicino a lui nella seconda funzione.
4) Le due prime Entità, le più frequentemente pregate o men¬
zionale, le più vicine a Dio c spesso associate, portano dei nomi signi-
60 ficativi: ASa è la parola avestica (cf.
antico-persiano aria-) che corri¬ sponde al vedico ria, l’Ordine cosmico,
rituale, sociale, morale, patrocinato dagli dei sovrani ma principalmente
(e negli epiteti che gli sono propri) dall’inflessibile e terribile
Varuna. Vohu Manah, il «Buon Pensiero», in una serie di passaggi gàthici
e in tutta la letteratu¬ ra non gàlhica, è presentato, al contrario, come
vicino all’ uomo, al pari del benevolo e amichevole Mitra, vicino
all’uomo e a «questo mon¬ do», in opposizione a Varuna che è «l’altro
mondo». Yasna XLIV contiene a questo proposito due strofe
rivelatrici, le strofe 3 e 4, in cui si divide il cosmo lontano e il
nostro scenario più vicino, tra A3a e Vohu Manah, in modo così netto come
fa Rgveda IV, 3,5 tra Varuna e Mitra (ognuno con degli ausiliari di cui
si parlerà nel capitolo seguente). L’elemento materiale associalo a Vohu
Manah c il bue: ora, fin dall’epoca indo-iranica, si c da tempo riconosciuto
(A. Christensen) che il bue era sotto la protezione particolare del
sovrano Mitra. Infine, la coppia dell’Entità ASa e dell’arcidemone Indra
ricor¬ da che molti inni del Rgveda inscenano delle tenzoni tra i 1
sovrano Va¬ runa e il guerriero Indra, depositari di due morali, la cui
divergenza sfocia facilmente in un conflitto. 9. Intenzione
di questa riforma zoroastriana Altri particolari dello stesso
genere arricchiscono e sfumano il confronto, ma questi sono sufficienti
per fondare la soluzione del pro¬ blema delle origini degli Amasa Spanta
che io ho estesamente svilup¬ pato nel 1945 nel mio libro Naissance
d’Archanges: la lista delle sei Entità dello zoroastrismo monoteista c
stata ricalcala, copiata, dalla li¬ sta degli dei delle tre funzioni del
politeismo indo-iranico; più esatta¬ mente, da una variante di questa
lista, come si trova in India, che ai cin¬ que dèi maschi nominati, per
esempio, a Bogazkby, aggiungeva nella terza funzione, vicino ai Nàsatya,
una dea madre. Perché questa copia¬ tura? Perché Zoroastro o i
riformatori assunti sotto questo nome non hanno semplicemente e puramente
soppresso questi «falsi dèi»? Senza dubbio perché, sacerdoti c
filosofi, erano attaccati a quel¬ la struttura trifunzionale del loro
sapere c ne riconoscevano l’efficacia come mezzo di analisi c come quadro
di riflessione sulla vita; senza dubbio perché gli uomini, gli Arya verso
i quali si indirizzava la loro predicazione e che volevano persuadere o
costringere, erano essi stcssi attaccati a questa forma di pensiero e bisognava
dunque fornire un sostituto esatto di ciò che si toglieva loro. Infine,
senza dubbio perché così presentata la lezione era più eloquente: uno
degli oggetti pratici della riforma, come si è visto, era distruggere la
morale particolare dei gruppi di guerrieri e allevatori, a vantaggio di
una morale ripensata e purificata dalle funzioni sacerdotali.
Elevando, ad esempio, al posto in cui infieriva sino allora l’au¬
tonomo Indra, l’esemplare figura di una «Potenza», XSaGra, devota alla
santa religione, si portava ai sostenitori dell’antico sistema un col¬ po
più rude della semplice negazione del dio pagano o della semplice
soppressione di questa provincia della teologia. In un certo senso si può
dire che la riforma zoroaslriana, nel riguardo delle Entità, sia con¬
sistita nella sostituzione di ogni divinità della lista trifunzionale con
una equivalente, che conservava il suo rango ma che essenzialmente era
privata della propria natura e animalo da un nuovo spirito, dallo spirilo
conforme alla volontà e alle rivelazioni del Dio unico. Si spiega
così l’impressione di sconforto che provano gli stu¬ diosi al primo
contatto con le Gcithà: malgrado i loro diversi nomi, questa Entità che
si muovono sembrano equivalenti, intercambiabili. Si spiega così come
lutti gli Amasu Spanta, qualunque sia il livello e il dio funzionale a
partire dal quale ognuno è stato sublimalo, portino uniformemente a
pensare, circa il loro comportamento, al gruppo in¬ diano dei due primi
livelli, agli dèi sovrani, gli Àditya, fra i quali Mitra e Varuna sono i
principali. Questa analogia, che è un fatto incontestabile e che B.
Geiger e K. Barr hanno avuto ragione di mettere in risalto ampiamente,
non ha comunque risolto il problema delle origini delle Entità: esse non
sono gli equivalenti normali e antichi degli dèi sovrani vedici, ma gli
equi¬ valenti degli dèi vedici dei tre livelli, dei tre livelli
energicamente ri¬ portati al tipo unico di una «santità» esigente: dèi
sovrani certo, ma an¬ che, sotto i sovrani, un dio violento e degli dèi
vivificanti che li completano. 10. Gli dèi indo-iranici delle
tre eunzioni e le spiegazioni CRONOLOGICHE Questa
spiegazione degli Amasa Spanta, immediatamente am¬ messa da molti
iranisti, ha ricevuto in seguilo degli ampiamenti e alcuni li ritroveremo al
capitolo seguente (III, § 8). Devo qui limitarmi e sottolineare la
principale conseguenza del punto di vista comparativo. Riportando ai
tempi indo-iranici la lista canonica mitannica e vedica degli dèi delle
tre funzioni con la loro gerarchia, ci è precluso ogni ten¬ tativo di
spiegare questa lista e questa gerarchia con avvenimenti sto¬ rici o
della preistoria recente dei tempi vedici. Indra non è, non può più
essere considerato come un «gran dio» che, ad esempio, le condizioni
sociali e morali di un’epoca di conqui¬ sta sarebbero «in procinto» di
sostituire a un più antico «gran dio» Va¬ runa che in seguito avrebbe
sviluppato il suo prestigio alle spalle di un più vecchio dio
Mitra. Se così fosse, come comprendere che questa situazione,
effime¬ ra per natura, questi rapporti instabili di dèi in crescita e di
dèi che re¬ trocedono si siano fissati e cristallizzati allo stesso
stadio di evoluzio¬ ne, disegnando lo stesso quadro d’insieme (arrestando
per secoli allo stesso massimo il progresso di uno dei termini e allo
stesso minimo la soppressione dell’altro),pressoi Para-Indiani dei
Mitanni, negli inni e nei rituali propriamente vedici e ancora, nel
politeismo iranico che si lascia leggere in filigrana sotto la teologia
di Zoroastro? La «storia» non può essere stata in questo punto tre
volte identi¬ ca, aver avuto degli effetti intellettuali così simili in
queste tre società precocemente separate. La sola
interpretazione plausibile è che egli Indo-Iranici ancora indivisi,
qualunque fosse il loro punto di partenza, erano arrivati ai li¬ miti
delle loro Terre Promesse in possesso di una teologia in cui i rap¬ porti
di *Varuna con *Mitra e di *Indracon *Varuna erano già come li ritroviamo
negli inni e, inconseguenza, questi rapporti e il raggruppa¬ mento degli
dèi che sostengono, lungi dall’essere il risultato fortuito di
avvenimenti, erano un dato concettuale, filosofico, un’analisi e una
sintesi in cui ogni termine presuppone gli altri, così fortemente come la
«destra» presuppone e chiama la «sinistra», in breve, presuppone una
struttura di pensiero. Le testimonianze che talvolta si è pensato di
ritrovare, negli inni vedici, di un indietreggiamento di Varuna rispetto
a Indra, si spiegherebbero dunque altrimenti: gli inni in cui questi dèi
si sfidanoe in cui oppongono le loro vanterie, l’inno stesso in cui Indra
si glorifica di aver eliminato Varuna, non sono che messe in scena del¬
la tensione che esiste tra 1’«aspetto Varuna» della funzione sovrana e la
funzione di Indra, e devono esistere affinché la società ne risenta
pienamente i benefici. I miti collegati ai signori divini delle
funzioni devono, almeno in parte, illustrare con chiarezza la divergenza
delle funzioni e devono farlo senza i riguardi e i compromessi che la
pratica sociale impone: è chiaro, ad esempio, che se la sovranità magica
assoluta e la pura forza guerriera fossero portate agli estremi
sfocerebbero in dei conflitti e di fatto in certi momenti della vita
della società a causa di tali conflitti si producono usurpazioni,
anarchia o tirannia. Ed è quello che esprime la teologia dei rapporti tra
Varuna e Indra che risalta dagli inni: nella grande maggioranza dei casi
essi collaborano, ma in qualche testo dia¬ logato i poeti sono portati a
questo estremo, che i politici evitano sag¬ giamente e per meglio
definirli, per «vederli» e «farli vedere», li han¬ no opposti come
rivali. Stando così le cose, si tratta di un esercizio retorico sicuramente
antico, poiché come si è visto lo zoroastrismo ha scelto Indra
scomunicato, demonizzato, per farne l’avversario parti- col are di Asa,
cioè dell’Entità in cui, purificato, sopravvive *Varuna. 11.
Comunicazione tra gli dèi delle tre funzioni Questa osservazione
deve essere completata da un’altra inver¬ sa. La definizione funzionale
dei tre livelli divini è statisticamente ri¬ gorosa (la letteratura
vedica è assai abbondante perché la statistica vi possa trovare un
appiglio certo), precisa non solo nei testi dove tali funzioni sono
intenzionalmente classificate o perlomeno raggruppate, ma anchenella
maggior parte dei testi in cui un poeta considerao invo¬ ca gli dèi di un
solo livello senza pensare agli altri. Ma in ogni religio¬ ne le
effusioni della pietà, della speranza e della confidenza talvolta
debordano dal quadro teorico del catechismo e questo è soprattutto vero
per l’India, in cui gli sforzi del pensiero, nel corso dei tempi stori¬
camente osservabili (e questa tendenza è già sensibile negli inni), han¬
no così spesso portato a riconoscere l’identità profonda dell’essere
sotto la diversità delle apparenze o delle nozioni e, per esprimere con¬
cretamente questo dogma dei dogmi, a conferire agli uni gli attributi
degli altri. In più, nella pratica, ciò che interessa l’uomo pio è
sicuramente la diversità dei soccorsi che può ricevere e delle porte
mistiche a cui può bussare, ma è anche e soprattutto la solidarietà e la
collaborazione di tutti gli dèi che gli rispondono. Infine,
nelle opere stesse per le quali gli uomini chiamano gli dèi, capita che
la totalità o più parti deH’insiemc funzionale si trovino interpellati da
degli specialisti che gli sono estranei. L’esempio mag¬ giore è quello
della pioggia che gonfia le acque del suolo, che fornisce direttamente o
indirettamente il tipo di ricchezza pastorale e agricola, la salute
stessa, di cui si occupano gli dèi della terza funzione; ma essa c
ottenuta grazie alla battaglia celeste, strappata sotto forma di fiume o
di vacche celesti agli avari demoni della siccità, e questo è il compito,
il gran compito di Indra c dei suoi aiutanti, 1 ’ orda guerriera dei
Marut. Congiungere il cielo e la terra e assicurare la
sopravvivenza del mondo è anche l’interesse degli dèi sovrani c
l’operazione tecnica si svolge infine grazie allo specialista
Parjanya. Ma perché mai il poeta si assoggetterebbe a lare sempre
questa giusta c rigorosa distribuzione dei meriti? L’opera c comune c
quindi la lode è unitaria c non ci si stupirà che il grande guerriero
Indra sia così spesso celebrato, nel risultalo come nella forma della sua
azione, in quanto donatore di fecondità e di ricchezza. Ma il
lettore preoccupalo di teologia non dovrà mai dimenticare il modo
violento che Indra esercita per procurarsi gli armenti o per li¬ berare
le acque: egli non c una Sarasvall al maschile c non è nella cer¬ chia
dei Pfisan o dei Dravinodà. Se una tale équipe divina c così sicuramente
esistita tra gli Indo-Iranici prima della loro divisione, come l’ideologia
tripartita, l’abbiamo visto nel primo capitolo, essa è più antica ancora
c deve es¬ sere riportata ai tempi indoeuropei: c allora legittimo c
necessario ri¬ cercare nella teologia degli altri popoli indoeuropei
antichi, c suffi¬ cientemente conosciuti, se delle équipes analoghe sono
attestate dagli usi rituali o da formulari. Questa ricerca,
intrapresa fin dal 1938, ha immediatamente portalo a risultati nei domini
italici e germanici. Ma allo stesso tempo, in questi domini in cui gli specialisti,
nella loro autonomia, avevano da lungo tempo costruito delle maestose c
dotte spiegazioni di ogni cosa.la nuova interpretazione ha dovuto rimettere i n
questione molti pseu¬ do-fatti, dimostrando la fragilità di molte
pseudo-dimostrazioni, in modo tale che spesso non è stata considerata la
benvenuta. In sintesi, le opposizioni sono soprattutto nate dal
fatto che le «filologie separate», sia scandinava che latina, si erano
abituate a pen¬ sare cronologicamente - secondo una cronologia ipotetica
e soggettiva - la preistoria, la «formazione» dei quadri teologici
complessi, presen¬ tati dai documenti antichi, mentre questi quadri,
guardati in base alla prospettiva comparativa che a grandi linee viene
qui ricordata, s’interpretano immediatamente, per l’essenziale, come
strutture con¬ cettuali che esprimono la distinzione e la collaborazione
delle tre fun¬ zioni esplicitate dagli Indoeuropei. 13.
Jupiter, Mars, Quirinus e Juu-,Mart-, VOFION(O)- Le due società
italiche di Iguvium e Roma - l’una umbra e l’altra latina - sulle quali
dei testi ben articolati ci informano, presenta¬ no due varianti di una
triade in cui i due primi termini sono identici: Juu-, Mart-, Vofìon(o)-
a Iguvium; Jupiter, Mars, Quirinus nella più antica Roma pre-capitolina.
Questo parallelismo incoraggia a non cer¬ care per la triade romana,
com’è d’uso, una spiegazione fondata sul caso, sugli apporti successivi o
sui compromessi di una storia locale: com’è possibile infatti che due
serie di avvenimenti indipendenti pos¬ sano suscitare due gerarchie
divine e due teologie così simili? 14. La triade
precapitolina L’esistenza della triade romana, che si è anche
voluto contesta¬ re ma che non è dubbia, è messa in evidenza dal fatto
che questi dèi sono rimasti, lungo tutta la storia romana, serviti da tre
sacerdoti senza omologhi, rigorosamente gerarchizzati ( ordo sacerdotum:
Festo, p. 198, Lindsay) che sono, al di sotto del rex sacro rum,
erede ridotto e sa¬ cerdotale degli antichi re, gli alti sacerdoti dello
stato: i trej7 amines maiores, cioè il dialis, il martialist il
quirinalis. Questa triade capito¬ lina, vero fossile nell’epoca storica,
respinto dall’attualità di una tria¬ de differente formata da Jupiter
O.M, Juno Regina e Minerva, è rima¬ sta legata a molti rituali e a
rappresentazioni evidentemente arcaiche. 66 Una
volta all’anno, in una cerimonia la cui fondazione era attri¬ buita a
Numa (Tito Livio I, 21, 4), i treflciminesMciiores attraversava¬ no
solennemente la città in uno stesso carro e facevano congiuntamen¬ te un
sacrificio alla dea Fides. I sacerdoti Salii che conservavano tra i
dodici ancilici indiscernibili il talismano caduto dal cielo cui era
stata attribuita la fortuna di Roma, erano in tutela Jovis, Martis et
Quirini (Servio, ad Aen., Vili, 663). Il tragico rituale
della devotio, con il quale il generale romano, per salvare il proprio
esercito, si immolava agli dèi sotterranei contemporaneamente
all’esercito nemico, era introdotto da una for¬ mula, da un’enumerazione
di dèi che Tito Livio (Vili, 9, 6) ha di certo trascritto esattamente e
che dopo Janus, dio di ogni inizio, nominava innanzitutto l’antica
triade: Giano, Jupiter, Mars Pater , Quirinus, poi Bellona, i Lari etc.
etc. Dopo la conclusione di un trattato, secondo Po¬ libio (III, 25, 6),
i sacerdoti feziali prendevano come testimoni prima Jupiter, poi Mars e
infine Quirinus. Il carattere comune di queste circostanze, in cui
la triade preca¬ pitolina è presentata come tale, è che il corpo sociale
di Roma è inte¬ ressato nel suo insieme e nella sua forma normale:
mantenimento del¬ la fides pubblica, senza cui la coesione sociale è
impossibile; protezione continua o urgente; impegno diplomatico. Il
sacrificio a Fides è particolarmente rivelatore poiché è la sola
circostanza conosciuta in cui i tre flamines maiores agiscono insieme; ma
lo fanno in maniera ostentata e l’unità del carro, l’unità
dell’operazione sacra, provano che si tratta di mettere sotto la garanzia
di Fides l’unità delle tre «cose» che Jupiter, Mars e Quirinus patroci¬
nano distributivamente; tre «cose» la cui sintesi o aggiustamento sono
essenziali per la vita di Roma. Quali sono queste «cose»? 15.
Valore di Jupiter e di Mars nella triade precapitolina La risposta
non necessita di grandi sforzi, sempre che si preferi¬ sca il sentimento
dichiarato dai Romani stessi contro le ricostruzioni ardite, fatte da tre
quarti di secolo dagli epigoni di W. Mannhardt o da archeologi poco
coscienti dei limiti della loro arte; sempre che non si dimentichi che
questi dèi sono stati associati e gerarchizzati a Iguvium e a Roma poiché
rendevano dei servizi differenziati e complementari; e infine, a
condizione che si attribuisca un valore particolare, trattandosi di divinità
dei tre flamines maìores, a ciò che insegna l’ufficio di questi
sacerdoti. Se si osserva questa regola, e queste precauzioni, si
riconoscerà in primo luogo che Jupiter, e nello stesso tempo il Dius (nel
capitolo seguente si mostrerà il senso di questa sfumatura), onora¬ to
dagli atti del flamen dialis , e dal suo comportamento pieno di innu¬
merevoli precetti positivi e negativi, è il dio che dall’alto del cielo
pre¬ siede all’ordine e all ’osservazione più esigente del sacro, garante
della vita, della continuità e della potenza romana. Quanto a
Marte, imperturbabilmente docile secondo l’insegna¬ mento dei migliori
testi epigrafici e letterari, si vedrà in lui il dio com¬ battente di
Roma, patrono della forza fisica, di quella forza che può, al pari del
vedico Indra, essere orientata in tre o quattro circostanze (non di più)
dal contadino romano, a profitto dei suoi buoi che hanno biso¬ gno di
essere forti, o dei suoi raccolti che tanti geni maligni, visibili o
invisibili, possono minacciare. Questa forza è sempre rimasta la
forza che dona la vittoria, sin dai tempi favolosi delle origini e fino
al declino dell’impero, nella schiacciante maggioranza degli impieghi
conosciuti. 16. QuiRINUS Per Quirino, l’unico
«invecchiato» fra i tre dèi in epoca storica, gli eruditi antichi hanno
generosamente costruito, su dei pressapochi- smi etimologici allora
correnti, delle teorie contraddittorie che com¬ plicano il lavoro; ma
fortunatamente disponiamo degli uffici adem¬ piuti dal suo flamen e di
molti altri fatti cultuali, del suo nome e di qualche indicazione
oggettiva degli antichi. Queste diverse fonti informative
forniscono un quadro com¬ plesso ma coerente. I ) Siamo a
conoscenza di tre circostanze in cui officia il flamen quirinalis. Ai
Robigalia del 25 aprile sacrifica un cane in un campo nei pressi di Roma
e allontana così (verso le armi da guerra, aggiunge Ovidio) la ruggine
che minaccia le spighe. Ai Consualia del 21 agosto sacrifica sull’altare
sotterraneo di Consus, dio del grano messo in provvista ( condere ); il
23 dicembre sacrifica sulla «tomba» di Laren- tia, la cortigiana che
incarna in una celebre storia la voluttà, la ricchez¬ za e la generosità
e che ha meritato di ricevere un culto, legando la sua fortuna a quella
del popolo romano. La festa propria di Quirino, i Quirinatici del 17 febbraio,
coincide con (e probabilmente è) l’ultimo atto dei Fornacalia, cioè delle
feste curiali della torrefazione del grano. Nelle altre due
circostanze rituali in cui appare, Quirino è asso¬ ciato alla dea Ops,
cioè all’Abbondanza rurale personificata: una iscri¬ zione ci insegna che
il 23 agosto, ai Volcanalia, Quirino e Ops figura¬ no tra le divinità
onorate senza dubbio contro gli incendi (C/L I 2 , p. 326). La leggenda
che giustifica l’esistenzadei Salii di Quirino, dimo¬ stra che il voto
fondante questo collegio è stato fatto per la stessa ra¬ gione del voto
che istituiva la festa di Ops e di Saturno. Tutti questi dati, che
costituiscono l’intero dossier cultuale del dio, attestano che la sua
attività è uniformemente e unicamente in rap¬ porto con le sementi (tre
feste, tra cui la sua), con le divinità agricole Consus e Ops, con la
ricchezza e il sottosuolo. Nello stesso senso si spiega il fatto che nel
390, all 'avvicinarsi dei Galli, quando bisognava seppellire gli oggetti
sacri di Roma, questo compito non spettasse al rex o al flamen dialis,
primi sacerdoti dello stato, come ci si sarebbe aspettato, ma al flamen
quirinalis. 2) Il nome di Quirino è sicuramente inseparabile da
quello dei Quirites, cioè dall’insieme dei Romani considerati nelle loro
attività civili in opposizione totale a ciò che essi sono in quanto
milites (un aneddoto ben noto di Cesare lo prova). P.
Kretschmer aveva proposto di spiegare Quirites con curia (volscio
couehriu), come «gli uomini riuniti nei loro quadri sociali», essendo
QuTrinus (cf. dominus da domus) il patrono di questa entità della «massa
sociale organizzata» ( *co-uir-io/a -). L’etimologia, in sé e prsé
soddisfacente, è stata resa molto probabile da V. Pisani ( 1939) e in¬
dipendentemente da E. Benveniste ( 1945), che hanno dimostrato come il
nome dell’omologo di Quirinus nella triade umbra di «Jupiter, Mars,
Vofionus» possa essere il compimento fonetico rigoroso di un *Le- udh-yo-no
«patrono della massa» (cf. il tedesco Leute, latino liberi, «massa di
uomini liberi, bambino di nascita libera» etc.), esatto paralle¬ lo e
sinonimo dal latino *Co-uirI-no. Massa sociale e pace sono, al pari della
coltivazione del suolo, aspetti considerati dalla terza funzione.
3) Ma lo stile di questa pace è marcato dall’impronta romana e
contribuisce al sorprendente meccanismo che in qualche secolo ha
conquistato e romanizzato l’Italia, il Mediterraneo e il mondo antico e
stabilisce il pesante beneficio della pax romana. Per i Romani non si
è mai trattato di una pace gioiosa e cieca ma vigile, in cui le armi
erano deposte ma conservate; in cui i civili Quirites erano anche
mobilitabi¬ li, i milites del domani; in cui i comitia legiferanti non
erano che l’ exercitus urbanus senza il suo equipaggiamento, ma pronto
nei suoi quadri: una pace, infine, in cui si pensava molto alla
guerra. È questo regime, questo stato di spirito che Quirino
governa e che esprime eccellentemente un tratto del suo statuto: uno dei
flamines minores, il Portunalis - senza dubbio connesso al dio delle
porte ( por¬ tele ) delle città, prima di essere quello dei porti
(j)ortus ) - ha l’incarico di ungere le «.armidi Quirino» (Festo s
.v.persillum, p. 238, Lindsay), cioè di compiere il gesto di ogni
mobilitazione alle armi: le quali pos¬ sono anche non essere utilizzate,
al momento, ma verso le quali può sopraggiungere improvvisamente
l’esigenza di ricorrervi. Questa ambivalenza Quirites-milites dei
Romani, questa con¬ cezione militare della pax romana , spiegano
sufficientemente come Quirino possa essere stato considerato una varietà
di Marte e come i Greci, che concepivano altrimenti l’eipf|VTi, abbiano
scelto per tradur¬ re il suo nome quello di un vecchio dio guerriero,
differente da Ares, ’EvuàA-ioq. E non sarà troppo inutile meditare in
questo contesto su due note del commentatore di Virgilio, Servio,
giudicate un tempo «assurde», ma alle quali la nuova prospettiva
«trifunzionale» ha con¬ ferito pieno valore (ad Aen. I, 292; VI,
859): «... Marte è detto Gradivus quando è in furore (Cum
saevit) quando è pacifico (cum tranquillus est), Quirino. A Roma
possiede due templi: uno all’interno della città, in qualità di Quirino,
cioè di guardiano e di dio tranquillo (quasi custodis et tranquilli),'
l'altro sul¬ la via Appia, fuori dalla città, vicino alle porte, in
quanto dio guerrie¬ ro o Gradivus (quasi bellatores vel Gradivi)...
Quirino è il Marte che presiede alla pace (qui praeest paci) e ha il suo
culto dentro Roma mentre il Marte della guerra (belli Mars) aveva il suo
tempio fuori Roma ». 17. Jupiter, Mars, Quirinus e i
componenti leggendari di Roma Questa rapida esposizione,
spogliata dalle innumerevoli di¬ scussioni che è stato necessario
sostenere su quasi tutti i punti, basterà a dimostrare qual è, nell’unità
armoniosa della triade precapitolina, l’orientamento proprio e
l’equilibrio interno di ogni termine. Cielo ed essenza stessa della
religione come supporto di Roma; forza fisica e guerra; agricoltura,
sottosuolo, massa sociale e pace vigilante: queste etichette definiscono
tre ambiti complementari che disegnano una struttura sicuramente
anteriore a Roma e a Iguvium, dunque italica, e quindi così vicina alla
struttura indo-iranica da dirsi risalente ai tempi indoeuropei.
Non sarà inutile ricordare qui i valori funzionali di cui appaiono
rivestite, nei racconti sulle origini di Roma, le tre componenti etniche,
base leggendaria delle tre tribù: Romolo - rex et augur - e i suoi com¬
pagni sono i depositari del potere sovrano e degli auspici; i suoi
alleati etruschi, sotto il comando di Lucumone, sono gli specialisti
dell’arte militare; i suoi nemici, Tito Tazio e i Sabini, sono provvisti
di donne, ricchi in bestiame e in più detestano la guerra e fanno di
tutto per evi¬ tarla. Una variante frequentemente attestata (l’abbiamo
ricordata in I § 7) minimizza la componente etrusca e concentra le due
prime caratte¬ ristiche su Romolo e i suoi compagni. Sotto
questa forma la triade precapitolina si divide molto ade¬ guatamente tra
i due gruppi di avversari e futuri associati: Romolo è costantemente il
protetto di Jupiter (gli auspici iniziali; Jupiter Fere- trius e Jupiter
Stator in battaglia) ma è figlio di Mars e trova riuniti in sé i favori
dei due primi dèi della triade; Quirino (in questo insieme leggendario
soltanto) è considerato come un dio sabino, il «Marte sa¬ bino» portato
in dote da Tito Tazio a Roma nella riconciliazione fina¬ le, allo stesso
modo del nome collettivo dei «Quirites» (ma questa pse- udo-sabinità dei
Qui riti e di Quirino, benché conf orme al carattere dei Sabini della
leggenda, portatori della terza funzione, si spiega col gio¬ co di
parole, popolare tra gli eruditi di Roma, «Quirites-Cures»), Si sa
che un’altra forma della leggenda, incompatibile con que¬ sta, fa di
Quirino il nome postumo di Romolo, riunendo così sul solo fondatore i tre
termini della triade divina in base agli auspici, alla filia¬ zione e
all’apoteosi. 18. Varianti della triade Jupiter, Mars,
Quirinus Della leggenda delle origini, Varrone (De ling. lat., V,
74) e Dionigi di Alicarnasso (II, 50) ci hanno conservato un aspetto
importante: all’epoca della riconciliazione di Romolo con Tito Tazio e
dell’entrata dei Sabini di Tito Tazio nella comunità, ormai completa e in
via di sviluppo, ognuno dei due re istituisce dei culti e mentre Ro¬ molo
fonda solo il culto di Jupiter, Tito Tazio instaura Quirinus e un gran
numero di dèi e dee che hanno rapporto con la vita rurale, la fe¬ condità
e il mondo sotterraneo. Questa tradizione è molto interessante
perché sottolinea ciò che è stato già segnalato a proposito dell’India
(II, § 5); la molteplicità de¬ gli aspetti, l’inevitabile frazionamento
di questa «terza funzione» che Tito Tazio incarna, ma soprattutto perché
tra gli «dèi di Tito Tazio» (che non sono certamente sabini ma romani, a
dispetto della colorazio¬ ne etnica della leggenda) molti f igurano in
terza posizione, nelle triadi che non sono altro che varianti della
triade canonica «Jupiter, Mars, Quirinus», come Ops (abbiamo già
segnalato i suoi rapporti con Quiri¬ no) o Flora. 1 tre
gruppi di culto della Regia, della «casa del re», che corri¬ spondono
senza dubbio alle tre camere che ancora si trovano giustap¬ poste nelle
rovine, sono: 1 ) culti assicurati dai personaggi sacri del più alto
rango, il rex (a Giano) la regina (a Giunone) e la moglie del flamen
dialis (a Jupiter stesso); 2) culti guerrieri del sacrarium Marti.?, 3)
cul¬ ti del sacrarium Opis Consivae, la dea dell’abbondanza.
Questa collocazione dei tre livelli funzionali manifestava sensi¬
bilmente che la stessa forma di religione che si analizzava e che si dis¬
sociava nelle persone dei tre grandi flamines, creava al contrario una
sua sintesi quando passava nelle mani del rex, quando era il rex che
l’amministrava, non più in quanto incarnazione ma, nel nome di Ro¬ ma,
come gestore delle forze sacre. Quanto alla triade «Jupiter, Mars,
Flora» (rimpiazzata più tardi da Venere) sembra essere stata lei a
patrocinare i tre carri delle corse primitive (in relazione con le tre
tribù funzionali e i tre colori bianco, rosso, verde; vedi sopra I, § 21
). Flora meritava due e tre volte questo posto, per il suo potere sulla
vegetazione, per la leggendache faceva di lei un doppione della
cortigiana Larentia e perché era assimilata a Roma stessa, senza dubbio
più alla massa romana che all’entità politi¬ ca patrocinata da
Quirino. Un’altra variante della triade - «Jupiter, Mars, Romulus,
Re- mus» - presenta Romolo sotto tutt’un altro aspetto (sino alla
fondazione di Roma: gemelli, pastori etc.) e ricorda che la lista canonica
in¬ do-iranica affidava a due dèi gemelli la rappresentazione e la
protezione del terzo livello. 19. Gli dèi delle tre funzioni in
Scandinavia Nel paganesimo scandinavo è conosciuta una triade dello
stes¬ so tipo, quel la formata da Ódinn, Pórr, Freyr (o solidalmente,
come ul¬ timo termine, Njòrdr e Freyr). Anche questa triade, al pari di
quella precapitolina romana, è stata spiegata - in modo molto variabile -
se¬ condo schemi di evoluzione, come il risultato di compromessi e
sin¬ cretismi tra culti successivamente comparsi. Lacritica a
questo tipo di spiegazioni facili e seducenti, che cre¬ dono di basarsi
logicamente sui dati archeologici, ma che vi si sovrap¬ pongono arlifi
cial mente, è stata fatta a più riprese e dovrà ancora esse¬ re fatta
poiché l’esperienza dimostra che non vi si rinuncia volentieri. Nel piano
ridotto del presente libro dovremo semplicemente prescin¬ derne ma dichi
arare che da H. Petersen (1876) a K. Helm (1925,1946, 1953), da E. Wessén
( 1924) a E. A. Philippson (1953), i numerosi ten¬ tativi fatti per
dimostrare che la promozione di *Wof3anaz è cosa re¬ cente (sostituito a
*Tiuz) o che in Scandinavia il più antico «gran dio» è Pórr (sempre che
non sia Freyr), non potevano riuscire a dispetto dell’intelligenza,
dell’erudizione e del talento dei loro autori. Ci limiteremo dunque
ai fatti e quindi all’esistenza stessa della triade in quanto tale. E
questa triade di Ódinn, Pórr e Freyr che Adamo di Brema ha vi sto regnare
nel tempio di Uppsala e di cui fornisce la de¬ scrizione del meccanismo
trifunzionale (Gesta Hammaburgensis eccl. Pontificium, IV, 26-27); è lei
che appare dalle formule di maledi¬ zione come dai poemi eddici o dagli
scaldi (Ódinn, Pórr, Freyr, Njòrdr: Egilssaga, 56); è lei che si
sprigiona dal racconto della batta¬ glia escatologica ( Vòluspà , 53-56)
in cui ognuno dei tre dèi lotta con¬ tro uno dei maggiori avversari che
soccombe sotto i suoi colpi; è lei che si spartisce i gioielli divini
(Skaldskaparmal, cap. 44) ed è lei che rappresenta l’intera mitologia in
cui le altre divinità - salvo la dea Freyja, strettamente associata a
Freyr e Njòrdr e che li completa - sono come comparse che circondano
questi «primi ruoli» e che si definisco¬ no in rapporto ad essi. Ci
si ricorderà che nella leggenda delle sue origini Roma si è ri¬ dotta
spesso a due componenti, benché comprendesse tre tribù che
rappresentavano tre funzioni: il rex-augur Romolo c i suoi compagni,
detentori di cleos et virtutem, la potenza del sacro e i talenti guerrieri,
il dominio di Jupiter e Mars, mentre Tito Tazio e i suoi Sabini
erano quelli che apportavano delle specialità loro connesse, cioè le
donne e le ricchezze, opes. Il quadro scandinavo della
formazione della società divina completa è dello stesso tipo: i
componenti riuniti per una riconcilia¬ zione ed una fusione conseguente a
una guerra terribile, sono due, gli Asi e i Vani: tra gli Asi Ódinn è il
capo, mentre Pórr è il più eccelso dopo di lui; trai Vani sono invece
Njòrdr, FreyreFreyjaipiù eminenti e i soli nominati
individualmente. La distinzione funzionale degli Asi c dei Vani è
chiara e costan¬ te. I Vani, specialmente i due dèi e la dea che ne
incarnano al massimo la tipologia, anche se capita loro di essere o di
fare altre cose, sono in¬ nanzitutto dei ricchi (Njòrdr, Freyr, Freyja),
donatori di ricchezze e patroni del piacere (Freyr, Freyja), della
lascivilà stessa, della fecon¬ dità e della pace (Nerlhus, Freyr-Fródi)
csono legati spazialmente ed economicamente al suolo che produce i
raccolti (Njòrdr, Freyr) o al mare in quanto luogo della navigazione e
della pesca (Njòrdr). A questi tratti dominanti si oppongono quelli
dei principali Asi. Né Ódinn né Pórr certamente si disinteressano delle
ricchezze del su¬ olo, ecc., ma da quando la mitologia scandinava ci è
conosciuta i loro centri sono altrove: l’uno è un mago potente, signore
delle rune, capo della società divina; l’altro è il dio col martello,
nemico dei giganti ai quali peraltro assomiglia (si pensi al suo
«furore»); è il dio tuonante (nel suo stesso nome) che accudisce il
contadino e gli dona la pioggia e anche nel folklore moderno è come un
solloprodollo della sua bellico¬ sità in maniera atmosferica e violenta,
non terrena c progressiva. Il senso da attribuire a questa
distinzione tra Asi e Vani è il pro¬ blema centrale che domina tutte le
interpretazioni delle religioni scan¬ dinave c di quelle germaniche,
anche laddove le spiegazioni cronolo¬ giche c storiche (di storia
immaginaria) affrontano con vivacità le spiegazioni strutturali e
concettuali. I fatti riuniti dall’inizio di questo libro apportano un
grande so¬ stegno agli strutturalisti: il parallelismo delle teologie
indo-iraniche e italiche ci fa precisamente attendere, presso i popoli
imparentati, una teologiaed unamitologiadel tipo presentato dagli
Scandinavi, che op¬ pone per meglio definirli e che ricompone per creare
un insieme vitale: 1 ) delle figure divine che patrocinano ciò che è
sotto il magistero degli Asi, Ódinn e Pórr, l’alta magia e la sovranità
da una parte, e la forza brutale dall’altra; 2) delle figure divine del
tutto differenti che patroci¬ nano ciò che è sotto il magistero dei tre
grandi Vani, la fecondità, la ricchezza, il piacere, la pace, etc.
etc. 21. La guerra degli Asi e dei Vani e la guerra dei
Protoromani e dei Sabine formazione di una società TRIFUNZIONALE
COMPLETA La frattura iniziale, che separa i rappresentanti delle
due prime funzioni e quelli della terza, è un dato indoeuropeo comune: lo
stesso sviluppo mitico (separazione iniziale, guerra e poi indissolubile
unio¬ ne nella struttura tripartita gerarchizzata) si ritrova non solo a
Roma, sul piano umanoenei racconto delle origini
dell’Urbe(guerrasabinae sinecismo), ma in India, dove è detto che gli dèi
canonici del terzo li¬ vello, gli Asvin, non erano inizialmente degli
dèi, ma entrarono nella società divina come terzo termine al di sotto
delle «due forze» (ubhe virye) solamente in seguito a un conflitto
violento conclusosi con una riconciliazione e un’alleanza.
Come si potrà prevedere, i dettagli di queste leggende sono stati
scelti e raggruppati in modo tale da mettere in rilievo le «funzioni» ri¬
spettive delle diverse componenti della società e i procedimenti speci¬
fici che queste «funzioni» attribuiscono ai loro rappresentanti. L’ana¬
lisi comparata della leggenda romana sulla guerra iniziale tra Romani e
Sabini e della leggenda scandinava sulla «prima guerra nel mondo» degli
Asi e dei Vani (a cui bisogna fare risalire, contro E. Mogk, le strofe
21-24 della Vòluspà), ha rivelato un interessante parallelismo e
conferito un senso sia all’una che all’altra. Ambedue sono formate
da un dittico, da due scene in cui ciascu¬ no dei due campi nemici ha il
vantaggio (vantaggio limitato e provvi¬ sorio poiché è necessario che il
conflitto finisca senza vittoria e con un patto liberamente consentito) ed
è debitore di questo vantaggio alla sua specificità funzionale. Da una
parte i ricchi e voluttuosi Vani che corrompono daH’interno la società
(le donne!) degli Asi, inviando loro la donna chiamata «Ebbrezza
dell’Oro»; dall’altra parte Ódinn che lancia il suo famoso giavellotto di
cui è noto l’irresistibile effetto magico e di panico. Allo
stesso modo i ricchi Sabini, da una parte, ottengono quasi la vittoria
occupando la posizione-chiave dell’avversario, non col combattimento, ma
acquistando con l’oro Tarpeia (in una variante, grazie all’amore cieco di
Tarpeia per il capo sabino); dall’altra parte Romolo, grazie a
un’invocazione a Jupiter (Stator) ottiene dal dio che l’armata nemica
vittoriosa venga improvvisamente, e senza motivo, invasa dal
panico. 22. Sviluppo della funzione guerriera presso gli
antichi Germani Bisogna comunque segnalare un fatto di enormi
conseguenze che ha determinato ben presto, e non solamente presso gli
Scandinavi ma fra tutti i Germani, una deformazione della struttura delle
tre fun¬ zioni e della teologia corrispondente. Da nessuna
parte, certamente né a Roma né in India, gli dèi del primo livello,
Varuna e Jupiter, si disinteressavano della guerra: se è vero che non
combattono propriamente come Indra o Marte è anche vero che mettono le
loro magie al servizio della parte che favoriscono e sono loro, in
definitiva, che attribuiscono la vittoria, la quale, se è in effetti
conquistata con la Forza, interessa soprattutto l’Ordine per le sue
conseguenze. Non ci si sorprende quindi di vedere Ódinn intervenire
nelle battaglie, senza combattere molto, ma gettando sull’armata che
ha condannato un panico paralizzante, il «legame dell’esercito»
herfjò- \)urr (cf. i lacci di cui è armato Varuna). Ma è certo che la
parte della «guerra» nella sua definizione è di gran lunga piu
considerevole che nella definizione dei suoi omologhi vedici o romani: in
lui - e anche nell’omologo germanico di Mitra che esamineremo nel
prossimo ca¬ pitolo e che è interpretato da Tacito come Marte - si
constata più di una osmosi, un vero e proprio ribaltamento e
straripamento della guerra nell’ideologia del primo livello. All’epoca in
cui si sono formate le loro epopee, gli «eroi odinici» - Sigurdr, Helgi e
Haraldr Den- te-da-Combattimento - sono prima di tutto dei guerrieri; e
nell’aldilà sono i guerrieri morti, in un’eternità di giochi e di gioie
guerriere, che Ódinn accoglie nel proprio Valhòll. In compenso, almeno in
certi luo¬ ghi, è Pórr, il nemico dei giganti, il combattente solitario,
ad averperso il contatto con la guerra (almeno quella combattuta dagli
uomini) ed è sopratutto il felice risultato dei suoi duelli atmosferici
contro i giganti e i flagelli, la pioggia benefica per le messi, che ha
giustificato e popo¬ lari zzato il suo culto e che talvolta ha spodestato
Freyr dal la parte agri¬ cola della sua provincia. Questa doppia
evoluzione sembra essere sta¬ ta spinta all’estremo tra gli Scandinavi
più orientali, presso i quali così Adamo da Brema (IV, 26-27) definiva i
tre dèi della triade di Uppsala. «Thor presici et in aere, qui
tonitrus et fulmina, ventos ymbre- sque, serena et fruges gubernat. Alter
Woclan, id est furor, bella gerit hominique ministrai virtutem contro
inimicos. Tercius est Fritto (cioè Freyr), pacem voluptatemque largiens
mortalibus... Sipestis etfames imminet, Thorydolo lybatur,
sibellum, Woda- ni, si nuptiae celebrandae sunt, Fricconi».
Anche se si ammette che la teologia di ognuno di questi tre dèi di
Uppsala fosse più ricca, e più variegata di quanto non appaia nelle brevi
osservazioni di Adamo da Brema (che ha preso Pórr come dio principale
poiché figura nel mezzo, al secondo posto, ed è armalo di un martello che
ha scambiato per uno scettro e perché, tuonante, lo ha as- similato a
Giove), non vi è ragione di rifiutare la sua testimonianza: lo
scivolamento della guerra nel dominio di «Wodan» e lo scivolamento
inverso di «Thor» al servizio dei contadini sono dei fatti. Ma se ne
comprende l’origine (come su altri punti relativi alla Scandinavia) e
dove lo stesso fenomeno si osserva, i valori dei tre dèi restano essen¬
zialmente vicini a quelli dei loro omologhi indiani e romani. Stato del
problema presso i Celti, i Greci e gli Slavi Sulle altre parti del
dominio indoeuropeo, a causa di diverse ra¬ gioni - cronologia troppo
recente, imprestiti massicci da sistemi reli¬ giosi non indoeuropei - è
difficile constatare immediatamente le strut¬ ture teologiche
corrispondenti alle tre funzioni: sono necessari quindi dei ragionamenti e
di conseguenza I ’ arbitrio è in agguato. Questo stato di cose è
particolarmente spiacevole nell’ambito greco o celtico in cui
l’informazione è tuttavia molto abbondante: bisogna rassegnarsi. In
Grecia, dove la religione non è essenzialmente indoeuropea, il
raggruppamento delle dee nella leggenda del pastore Paride resta ad
esempio un gioco letterario e non forma evidentemente un’autentica
combinazione religiosa. In Gallia, dove la classificazione degli
dèi riportata da Cesare (e confermata dai testi irlandesi sui Tuatha Dé
Danann) ricorda per molti versi la struttura delle tre funzioni,
quest’analogia con la filiazione, e i ritocchi che suggerisce, suscitano
più problemi invece che risolverli. Quanto al paganesimo degli Slavi,
questi sono così poco conosciuti perché i tentativi di spiegazione
tripartitapossano essere altra cosa che brillanti ipotesi. Ma
la concordanza delle testimonianze sui tre domini, in¬ do-iranico,
italico e germanico, in cui le antiche religioni sono state de¬ scritte
in maniera sistematica dai loro stessi rappresentanti, è sufficiente a
garantire che sin dai tempi indoeuropei l’ideologia tripartita aveva dato
luogo a una teologia della stessa forma; a un gruppo di divinità ge-
rarchizzate che esprimevano i tre livelli; e ad una «mitologia eziologi¬
ca» che giustificava la differenza e la collaborazione di queste
divinità. 24. Divinità che sintetizzano le tre funzioni
Ci limiteremo a segnalare nella teologia un altro utilizzo fre¬
quente della struttura tripartita, non analitico ma sintetico. Vi sono
in¬ fatti divinità che sia i saggi che i fedeli tengono a definire, in
opposi¬ zione agli dèi specialisti delle tre funzioni, come
onnivalenti, domiciliate ed efficienti sui tre livelli. Questo tipo di
espressione si è prodotta indipendentemente in diversi luoghi, per
esempio nelle civil¬ tà mediterranee, quando una divinità patrona o
eponima di una città ha assunto un’importanza a svantaggio di altri dèi o
di équipes divine: così, presso gli Ioni di Atene, dove sembra che una
teologia tripartita (Zeus, Athena, Poseidone, Efesto) concernesse
innanzitutto le quattro tribù funzionali (sacerdoti, guerrieri,
agricoltori, artigiani), è Atena che in epoca storica domina la
religione. Così, seguendo la felice osservazione di F. Vian,
durante le pic¬ cole Panatenee, ella riceveva successivamente degli
omaggi divini in quanto Hygieiu, Polias e Niké, vocaboli che evocano le
funzioni di sa¬ lute, sovranità politica e vittoria. Allo stesso modo,
nello zoroastrismo si è prodotta la tripla titolatura Buone, Forti, Sunte
dei geni tutelari, le FravaSi, che sono in effetti trivalenti.
25. Dee trivalenti Tuttavia, tra queste figure sembra che
bisogni far risalire alla comunità indoeuropea un tipo di dea la cui
trivalenza è così messa in evidenza e che è intenzionalmente congiunta
agli dèi funzionali: que¬ sta dea, che per il suo stesso sesso e per il
suo punto d’inserimento nel¬ le liste è connessa alla terza funzione, è
tuttavia attiva in tutti e tre i li¬ velli e sembra che la sua presenza
nelle liste esprima il teologhema di una multi valenza femminile che
raddoppia la molteplicità degli spe¬ cialisti mascolini.
Abbiamo ricordato più sopra che talvolta, nelle liste trifunzio¬
nali vediche, la dea-fiume SarasvatTè associata agli ASvin: ora, gli epi¬
teti di SarasvatT, benché non raggruppati in formule, la definiscono
chiaramente come pura, eroica, materna. Indipendentemente l’uno
dall’altro, sia io (1947) che H. Lommel (1953) abbiamo proposto di interpretare
come un’omologa di SarasvatT e come l’erede della stessa dea
indo-iranica, la più importante delle dee del \'Avestu non-gàthico,
anch’essa dea-fiume, Anàhità; ora, il nome completo e triplice di
Anàhità, fa evidentemente riferimento alle tre funzioni: «l’umida, la
forte, l’immacolata», AradvT, Suri, Anàhità. Ed è ancora per sublima¬
zione dello stesso prototipo che io penso che lo zoroastrismo puro ab¬
bia creato la sua quarta Entità, Àrmaiti, che seppur ordinariamente al
terzo livello (dopo XsaSra, «Potenza» e prima di Haurvatà(-Amar,?là(,
«Salute» e «Immortalità») e benché non in possesso di una tripla tito¬
latura, porta un nome che significa «Pensiero-Pio», aiuta Dio nella sua
lolla contro il Male ed ha come elemento materiale la terra nutrice dif¬
ferenzialmente associata. Nel Lazio, a Lanuvium, Giunone era
onorata sotto il triplice epiteto di Seispes Mater Regina, i due ultimi
epiteti riportano alla teo¬ logia della Giunone romana (Lucina, etc.;
Regina) patrona della fe¬ condità regolata c dea sovrana; ma a Roma la
specificazione guerriera manca, mentre era in evidenza nella figura di
Giunone lanuvia e certa¬ mente era espressa dal primo epiteto, l’oscuro
Seispet- (rom. sospit-, da *sue-spit-? cf. Indra svà-ksatra, svu-pati,
eie.). Infine, nel mondo germanico, considerando i Germani conti¬
nentali, sembra che una dea unica e polivalente (se non onnivalente),
*Friyyò fosse congiunta ai multipli dèi funzionali di cui abbiamo par¬
lato più sopra; se la specificazione guerriera non è attestata, il poco
che si sa di essa la mostra sovrana (Frea, nelle leggende che spiegano
il nome dei Lombardi) e «Venus» ( *Friyya-dcigaz , «Freitag»),
Presso gli Scandinavi questa multi valenza è esplosa: la dea si è raddoppiata
in Frigg (esito regolare di *Friyyó in nordico), sposa sovrana del
signore magico Ódinn, e in Freyja (nome rifatto su Freyr), dea
tipicamente Vani, ricca e voluttuosa. In Irlanda un’eroina,
Macha, senza dubbio un’antica dea epo¬ nima del luogo più importante fra
tutti, Emain Macha, capitale dei re pagani del 1 ’ Ulster con 1 a piana
che la circonda, dovette avere pri miti- vamente questo carattere
sintetico, analizzato in base alle tre funzioni, poiché è sfociata in tre
personaggi, in un «trio di Macha» ordinato nei tempi. Una Veggente, sposa
di un uomo dei primi tempi chiamato Ne- med, «il Sacro», che muore per
un’emozione profonda in seguito a una visione; poi una
Guerriera-Campionessa che fa del proprio marito il suo generalissimo e
che muore uccisa; infine una Madre che accresce meravigliosamente la
fortuna del proprio marito, un ricco contadino, e che muore durante
l’orribile parto di due gemelli. Ma non è più possi¬ bile determinare
quali rapporti avesse nella religione con gli dèi ma¬ schi della stessa
funzione. 26. Le teologie tripartite e i loro elementi
Dopo aver preso una visione globale dei sistemi teologici in¬
do-iranici, italici e germanici che esprimono l’ideologia delle tre fun¬ zioni,
abbiamo riconosciuto che sono abbastanza paralleli per giustifi¬ carne la
spiegazione nei termini di un’eredità indoeuropea comune. Non è che
l’inizio: senza perdere di vista la struttura d’insieme, l’esplorazione
dovrà concentrarsi successivamente su ognuno dei tre termini; esaminando
la funzione della sovranità religiosa in se stessa, poi quella del la
forza e della fecondità e infine, tram ite la comparazio¬ ne tra i dati
indiani, iranici, latini etc., cercare di determinare come gli
Indoeuropei concepivano, suddividevano e utilizzavano ciascuna di
esse. 80 Note ai paragrafi § 1.
Sulla necessità, per lo storico delle religioni, di non perdere mai di
vi¬ sta e di riconoscere le strutture teologiche di cui studia i
frammenti, vedi prin¬ cipalmente L’heritage..., cap. I («Matièrc, objet
et moyens de étude») - al quale rimando una volta per tutte circa le
questioni di metodo - e DIE, cap. II («Structure et cronologie»),
§ 2-3. Il riconoscimento del raggruppamento arcaico «Milra-Varuna
Indra e i Nàsatya», l’inventario delle circostanze in cui appaiono, sono
state fatte progressivamente in: JMQ, pp. 59-60 (= JMQ it, pp. 38-39); NA
pp. 41-52; Tarpeia, 1947, pp. 45-56 (dove sono studiati in dettaglio sei
inni del Riveda fondali su questa struttura); «Mitra-Varuna, Indra et le
Nàsatya, com- me palrons des trois fonclions cosmiqucs et sociales»,
Studia Linguistica, II, 1948 pp. 121-129; JMQ IV, pp. 13 - 35 ( «Les
dieux palrons des trois f onctions dans le Rg Veda et dans le
AlharvaVeda»); in queste due ultime esposizioni la divisione degli dèi in
tre gruppi «Aditya, Rudra, Vasu», è interpretata nello stesso senso (cf.
DIE pp.7-9). § 4. La discussione delle spiegazioni anteriori e
l’interpretazione nuova formano il primo capitolo di NA, pp. 15-55 («les
dieux Arya de Mitani»), Il carattere indiano degli Arya di Mitani è reso
probabile dalla forma del nume¬ ro «uno» (aika: sanscrito eka, contro
l’iranico comune *aiva ); P.E. DUMONT ha interpretato senza difficoltà
tutti nomi d’uomini conosciuti grazie al vcdi- co (JAOS, 67, 1947, pp:
251-253). In seguilo G. Widengren ha sottolineato in questi nomi propri c
nella variante u -ru- wa - na del nome di Varuna (nel trattato di
Bogazkoy), qualche fatto fonetico che rinforza questo parlare di iranico:
Numen, II, 1955, pp. 80-81 e note 167, 170. § 5. DIE.pp. 11-14. Un
gruppo di raffigurazioni su una faretra cassila c stata interpretata come
rappresentante in alto Mitra c Varuna, nel mezzo Indra (o Vàyu) e in
basso i gemelli Nàsatya in una scena di medicazione mira¬ colosa
conosciuta dal Rg Veda : «Dieux cassiles et dieux vediques, à propos d’un
bronze du Lourislan» RHA, 52, 1950, pp. 18-37. Riprenderò prossima¬ mente
il problema a partire da una migliore fotografia (la scena c le insegne
di «Mitra e Varuna» devono essere spiegate altrimenti: non vi sono degli
altari ma un vaso raffigurante una lesta di leone) e con degli altri
documenti sui «gemelli» § 6-9. La spiegazione degli Amai a
Spanta costituisce la materia di NA, cap. II-V; la quarta Entità,
Àrmaiti, che sembrava creare allora difficoltà, è stala spiegata in
seguito in Tarpeia , cap. I (=JMQ il.pp. 305-313). Questa in¬
terpretazione è stata accettala e sviluppata da J. De MENASCE, «Une
legende indo-iranienne dans l’angelologie judéo-musulmane: à propos
de Hàrut-Màrut», Études Asiatiques (svizzeri) I, 1947, pp. 10-18; J.
DUCHE- SNE-GUILLEMIN, Zoroastre, 1948 pp. 47-80; Onnazd et Ah rimati,
1953, p. 23; The Western Response to Zoroaster, 1958 pp. 38-51 (vedi
specialmente pp. 45-46 contro I. Gcrshevilch e W. Lcntz); S. WlKANDER
(vedi sotto, nota 81 al III cap. § 13); J.C.
TAVADIA «From Aryan Mythology to Zoroastrian The- ology,
aReviewofDumézil’sResearches», ZDMG, 103, 1953, pp. 344-353; K. Barr,
Avesta, 1954, pp. 52-59 e 197; G. WlDENGREN , «Stand und Aufga- ben
deriranischenReligionsgeschichte», Numen, I, 1954, pp. 22-26; S. Har-
TMAN in molti articoli specialmente «Ladisposition de l’Avesta»,
Orientatili Suecana, V, 1956, pp. 30-78; e inoltre da altri importanti
iranisti. È stata inve¬ ce rigettata senza discussione da I. Gerschevitch
e W. Lentz e non è menzio¬ nala nei libri di W.B. Henning e R.C.
Zaehner. § 10. Questo tipo di spiegazione è stata estesa alle
Entità già gathiche come SraoSa e ASi (considerale come sublimazioni degli
dèi prezoroastriani equivalenti agli dèi vedici Aryaman e Bhaga): vedi
qui sotto, III, § 8; poi al non gathico Rasnu e alla Fravasi (considerate
come figure purificate corri¬ spondenti a Visnu e ai Maj'ut): «Visnu et
les Marut à travers la réforme zoroa- striennc», JA, CCXLII, 1953, pp.
1-25; infine a Busyastà (considerata come una demonizzazione della dea
Aurora): Déesses latines et mythes vécliques, 1956, pp. 34-37.
§ 11. DIE, pp. 22-23. § 12. Gli attacchi più vivi sono venuti
dai latinisti della scuola primitivi- sta; vedi a proposito di H.J. ROSE,
RHR, CXXXIII, 1948, pp. 241-243 e Dé¬ esses latines..., 1956, pp.
118-123. I germanisti ostili hanno in generale preferito “ignorare”;
tuttavia ho recentemente avuto una gradevole discus¬ sione - la prima -
con K. HELM, BGDSL, 77, 1955, pp. 347- 365; 78, 1956, pp. 173- 180. Un
grande numero di «risposte alle obiezioni» si trovano dis¬ seminate nelle
prefazioni, note e appendici dei miei libri. Le ultime in ordine di tempo
che hanno un valore generale sono; «Examen de criliques réccnles; John
Brough, Angelo Brelich», RHR, CLII, 1957, pp. 8-30. § 13.1
latinisti che dissertarono su Quirino dimenticano solitamente Vo- fionus
che riduce di troppo la loro libertà d’ipotesi. Perla triade umbra vedi
«Remarques sur les dieux Grabovio - d’Iguvium», RP, XXVIII, 1954, pp.
225-234 e «Notes sur le début du riluel d’Iguvium», RHR, CXLVII, 1955,
pp. 265-267. La triade romana è comparsa proprio a fornire il titolo
comune degli studi sulle tecnologie trifunzionali indoeuropee, pubblicati
dal 1941 al 1948. § 14. L’interpretazione è stata presentata
per la prima volta in un articolo che conteneva in potenza tutto il
lavoro ulteriore: «La préhisloirc des flami- nes majeurs», RHR, CXVIII,
1938, pp. 188-200. Sono comparsi in seguito JMQ, cap. II c III, poi lutto
NR; riassunto in L'hèritage... pp. 72-101. § 15. Contro il «Marte
agrario» vedi NR, pp. 38-71 (=JMQ it., pp. 191-217) e Rituels... pp.
78-80. Su Jupiter sovrano vedi NR., pp. 71-76 (= JMQ it. pp. 218-222); è
importante non vedere in Giano (dio dei prima, di tut¬ ti i prima) un
«predecessore» né un doppio di Jupiter (dio dei summit): DIE, pp. 91-102
e«Jupiler-Mars-Quirinus et Janus», RHR, CXXXVIII, 1951, pp. 209-210; sugli
«dèi dei prima» indo-iranici, Tarpeia, pp. 66-96. 82
§ 16. La spiegazione del complesso Quirino è stata formata in tre
tempi: 1) JMQ, pp. 72-77, 84-94, 143-148, 182-187 (=JMQ it„ pp. 49-53,
58-66, 101-104); 2°), NR, pp. 194-221 (=JMQ it., pp. 264-285) e Tarpeia,
pp. 176-179; 3°) JMQ, pp. 155-170 (specialmente pp. 167, 169 e n. 2,
170). Vedi anche L. GERSCHEL, «Saliens de Mars et Saliens de Quirinus»,
RHR, CXXXVIII, 1950, p. 145-151. Ho sostenuto numerose discussioni,
special- mente: «La triade Jupiter-Mars-Janus?», RHR, CXXXII, 1946, pp.
115-123 (con V. Basanoff); REL, XXXI 1953, pp. 189-190 (con C. Koch);«A
propos de Quirinus», REL, XXXIII, 1955, pp. 105-108 (con J. Paoli);
«Remarques sur les armes des dieux de troisième fonction», SMSR, XXVIII,
1957, pp. 1-10 (con A. Brelich). Generalmente ogni nuovo avversario non
tiene alcun conto delle risposte fatte ai precedenti; è ancora il caso di
J. BAYET, Histoire psychotogique et historique de la religìon roinaine,
1958, p. 118 (che tratta anche della triade romana JMQ senza considerare
la triade umbra di Jupiter Mars Vofionus). Per l’assimilazione di Romolo
a Quirino, le considerazioni nuove riportate qui sotto incoraggiano a
dargli un senso più profondo e una data più antica di quanto non si
facesse generalmente (vedi «La bataille de Sentinum, remarques sur la
fabrication de l’histoire romaine» Annales, Eco¬ nomie, Sociétés,
Civilisations.VU, 1952, pp. 145-154). Sulle etimologie pro¬ poste per
Vofionus, vedi RP, XXVIII, 1954, p. 225, n. 4 e p. 226, n. 1; la
spiegazione con *leudhyono- sitrova in Pisani «Mytho-etymologica», Rev.
desEtudes Indo-Européennes (Bucarest), I; 1938, p. 230-233 e in BENVENI-
STE, «Symbolisme social dans les cultes gréco-italiques», RHR, CXXIX,
1945, pp. 7-9. § 17. Una questione connessa è quella della realtà o
della non realtà di una componente sabina alle origini di Roma. Questa è
secondaria rispetto al no¬ stro punto di vista, che è quello
dell’ideologia e non dei fatti storici, e in più, una risposta
affermativa non genererebbe affatto l’interpretazione funzionale delle
leggende sulle origini, di cui bisognerebbe solamente ammettere (la qual
cosa è ordinaria) che presentano l’avvenimento «ripensato» in un qua¬ dro
ideologico ed epico preesistente, tradizionale; ma è anche chiaro che
que¬ sta interpretazione strutturale e unitaria che noi formiamo non
rinforza la tesi dell’autenticità storica del sinecismo originale che
incontra diverse difficol¬ tà. In L’heritage .... pp. 179-181, si troverà
riassunta la lunga discussione del capitolo III di NR («Latins et Sabins,
histoire et myhte» non tradotta in JMQ it.: vedi p. 263), condotta
principalmente in funzione della tesi di A. PlGA- NIOL, Essai
surlesorigines de Romei 1915) che dominava allora gli studi. Da
quattordici anni che questa discussione è stata pubblicata ho letto molte
affer¬ mazioni calorose, arroganti e irritate sulla presenza sabina
lontana dalla fon¬ dazione di Roma, ma non ho visto segnalare alcun fatto
archeologico che non fosse già stato prima esaminato e che facesse pendere
decisamente la bilan¬ cia; cf. JMQ IV, p. 182 (sugli argomenti che si
sono voluti demandare alla strana disciplina della «geopolitica») e RE
XXXIII, 1955, pp. 105-107 (su un curioso argomento che J. Paoli ha
creduto di poter ricavare dalla triade um¬ bra). Quanto a me, continuo a
trovare soddisfacente nel suo principio la spie- 83
gazione data nel 1886 della leggenda del sinecismo latino-sabino da
T. MOMMSEN, «Die Tatiuslegende», ripreso in Gemmiti. Schr. IV, pp. 22-35.
In una memoria intitolata «Céramiques des premiers siècles de Rome,
VIII-V siècles», manoscritto che si trova analizzato nei Comptes Renclus
de l’Académie des Inscriptions , 1950, p. 287-295, F. Villard si è
pronuncialo per l’omogeneità della popolazione romana dell'ottavo
secolo. § 18. Sullo Jupiter di Romolo e gli dèi di Tito Tazio, vedi
JMQ, pp. 144-146 (= JMQ it., pp. 101-012) (dove bisogna correggere nella
citazione di Varronc Vedici Ioni in Vedi otti) e La saga de Hadingus, 1953,
pp. 109-110. Per la triade «Jupiter, Mars, Ops» vedi «Lcs cultes de
la Regia, les trois fonclions et la triade JMQ», Latomus, XIII, 1954, pp.
129-139. Per la triade «Jupiter, Mars, Flora (o Vcnus)», vedi Rituels...,
p. 54 e p. 60, note 37-40. Per Romolo-Remo come corrispondenti dei
Nàsatya vedici, vedi qui sotto III, § 24. Inoltre l’utilizzazione delle
tre funzioni c della triade «JMQ» da parte di Martianus Capella è stata
esaminala in «Remarques sur Ics trois premières re¬ gione s erteli de
Mart. Cap.», Coll. Latomus XXIII ( =Honim. à M. Nieder- memn) 1956, pp.
102-107. § 19-20. Jan de Vrics è stalo condotto dalle sue ricerche
a una visione strutturale delle religioni germaniche. Quando è uscito
MDG, 1939, egli av¬ vertì la parentela della mia concezione e della sua e
la complementarietà dei nostri argomenti. Da allora, benché divisi su
qualche dettaglio, siamo d’accordo, credo, su tutte le maggiori
questioni: che ci si riporti alle sue chia¬ re, obiettive c generose
esposizioni del suo Altgermanische Relìgionsge¬ stiti cht e. 2“ cd., I c
II, 1956-1957 c ai suoi articoli: «Dcr heutige Stand der gcrmanischen
Rcligionsforschung», Gemi. - Roman. Monatsschrift , N.F., II, 1951,
pp. 1-11 ; e «L’élat acluel dcséludes sur la rcligion germanique», Dio¬
gene, 18, aprile 1957, pp. 1-16; altri articoli che toccano le questioni qui
trat¬ tale: «La valeur religicuse du mot irmin», Cahiers du Sud, n. 314,
1952, pp. 18-27; «Die Gotlcrwohnungen in den Grlmmismàl», Atta Philol.
Stand., 1952, pp. 172-180; «La loponymiect l’hisloire des
religions»,RHR, CXLVI, 1954, pp. 207-230; «Uber das Wort Jarl und seine
Vcrwandlen», NC, VI, 1954, pp. 461-469. Nell’opera collettiva Deutsche
Philologie ini Aufriss, Miinchen, 1957, la sezione «Die altgermanische
Religion» (col. 2467-2556), redaltada Werner Bentz, dà del paganesimo
germanico, e specialmente scan¬ dinavo, un’eccellente interpretazione,
originale c ripensata, nel quadro che io ho proposto. E. POLOMÉha
lavorato in questo stesso schema: «L’élymologic du terme germanique
*ansuz, dieu souverain», Études Germuniques, 1953, pp. 36-44 e «La
religion germanique primitive, rcflccl d’une slruclurc socia¬ le», Le
Flamheau, 1954,4, pp. 437-463.1 miei MDG, oggi felicemente esau¬ riti,
hanno sofferto di essere stali pubblicati agli esordi delle ricerche
sulla tripartizione indoeuropea: non era che una prima vista d’insieme e
un pro¬ gramma carico d'ipotesi di lavoro, alcune delle quali si sono
verificate c altre no; presto pubblicherò una seconda edizione interamente
rimaneggiata. Non ho qui ancora il posto per esaminare la teologia dei
Germani continentali (specialmente Tacito, Germania, 9, in cui i tre
livelli sono chiari: Mercurio c 84 Marte,
Ercole, «Iside»): vedi DIE, pp. 23-26. PerÓdinn bisogna aggiungere
l’importante confronto col polivalente Rudra dell’India (R. Otto, 1932):
vedi J. De Vries, op. cit., II, § 405. § 21. Sulla guerra
degli Asi e dei Vani paragonala a quella dei Latini di Romolo e dei
Sabini, vedi JMQ, cap. V e Tarpeia, pp. 247-291 (= JMQ it.,pp. 108-164)
in cui si trova ampiamente rifiutala l’interpretazione in «giganto-
machia» della Voluspà, 21-24 avanzata da E. MOGK, FFC, 5 8, 1924, e la
pre¬ sentazione generale in L’heritane..., pp. 125-142. § 23.
Perii giudizio di Paride vedi soprai § 23. PerglidèigallidiCesaree i loro
corrispondenti irlandesi nei loro rapporti (in ogni caso molto alterati)
con la tripartizione, vedi MDG, p. 9, NR, pp. 22-27 eP.-M. DuvaL,
Lesdieux de la Gaule, 1957, pp. 4, 19-21, 31-33, 94. R. JAKOBSON ha
tentato di inter¬ pretare nel quadro delle tre funzioni il poco che si
conosce degli dèi slavi: art. «Slavic Mythology» in Funk and Wagnalls
StandardDictionary pfFolklore, II, 1950, pp. 1025-1028. Sembra che il
paganesimo dei Baiti possa essere un giorno favorevole alla nostra
inchiesta. § 24. Sulla tripla titolatura di Alena alle Panaatenec,
vedi F. VlAN, La guerre dea géants, le mytheavant l’époque hellenistique,
1952pp. 257-258. § 25. Su SarasvatT-Anàhilà-Àrmaiti e sul nome triplo
di Anàhità, vedi Tar¬ peia, pp. 55-66; H. Lommel ha trovato
indipendemente la corrispondenza Sa- rasvatl-Anàhità c l’ha pubblicata in
Festschr. F. Weller, 1954, pp. 405-413. Per i dati latini, irlandesi e
germanici vedi «Iuno, S.M.R.», Eranos, LII, 1954, pp. 105-119 e «Le trio
des Macha» RHR. L’esplorazione di ognuno dei tre livelli funzionali nel
mondo indoeuropeo implica tre compiti molto considerevoli, a tult’oggi
pro¬ grediti in maniera assai discontinua. Non è stalo possibile giungere
ra¬ pidamente a risultati sistematici che al primo livello. Se
importanti aspetti del secondo e del terzo sono stati determinati in
breve tempo, essi non sono tuttavia che un insieme strutturalo ancora in
fase di ap¬ profondimento. Non si è potuto dunque fare altro che dare per
essi de¬ gli orientamenti generali e, sopratutto, delle indicazioni sui
metodi di lavoro. Varuna e Mitra, ASa e Vohu Manah
Il principio fondamentale intorno a cui si organizzavapresso gli
Indo-Iranici la teologia della prima funzione è già stato segnalato; nel
trattalo di Bogazkoy e nelle formule vediche che sono state confronta¬
te, non si tratta di un dio ma di due, Mitra e Varuna, che la
rappresenta¬ no, ed c ancora questa coppia che presuppone la coesistenza
di due figure, il «Buon Pensiero» e 1’«Ordine», che gli corrispondono in
testa alla lista delle entità sostituite da Zoroastro agli dèi
funzionali. Questa dualità è stata spiegata in molte maniere dai
commenta¬ tori indiani e dalle diverse scuole mitologiche degli ultimi
cento anni. Attualmente è stata fatta luce su ciò che in parte si può
dedurre dai loro stessi nomi: se la parola Veruna, apparentata o no al
greco oùpavóq, wpavoq, resta oscura (la si è interpretata con radici che
significano «coprire», «legare», «dichiarare»), al contrario, Mitra è
sicuramente, come ha spiegato Meillet in un celebre articolo (1907), per
la sua eti¬ mologia, il Contratto personificato. Nella grande maggioranza
dei casi, tra questi dèi i cui nomi appaiono spesso al duale doppio, cioè
con una forma grammaticale che esprime il più stretto legame, i poeti
non fanno differenza: li vedono come due consoli celesti, depositari
soli¬ dali del più grande potere, e quando non nominano che uno dei
due, non si fanno scrupoli di concentrare su di lui tutti gli aspetti e
gli attri¬ buti di questo potere. E questo è naturale poiché l’unità e
l’armonia della funzione sovrana, in rapporto a lutto ciò che le è
subordinato, co¬ stituisce per gli uomini il beneessenziale che bisogna
mettere in primo piano nella credenza e nell’espressione. Ma capita
spesso felicemente, anche nel lirismo degli inni ma soprattutto nei libri
rituali, che il poeta o il liturgista travalichi questo primo piano e
voglia distinguere i due dèi per meglio spiegare o utilizzare la loro
solidarietà. In tale caso le diverse immagini che appaiono sono
tutte dello stesso senso: Mitra e Varuna sono i due termini di un gran
numero di coppie concettuali e di antitesi, la cui sovrapposizione
definisce due piani, ogni punto del piano potremmo dire, richiamando
sull’altro un punto omologo; e queste coppie tanto diverse possiedono
tuttavia un’aria di parentela così netta che di ogni nuova coppia
assegnata al¬ l’insieme si può provare a colpo sicuro quale sarà il
termine «mitria- co» e quello «varunjco». Fra le
specificazioni così diverse dell’antitesi sarà difficile estrarne una da
cui il resto può essere derivato e senza dubbio questo tentativo, una
volta fatto, non avrebbe gran senso. Sarà molto meglio procedere a un
breve inventario, osservando e definendo l’antitesi in rapporto alle
principali categorie dell’essere divino (cf. II § 5). Quanto ai loro
domini nel cosmo, Mitra s’interessa piuttosto a ciò che è vicino
all’uomo, mentre Varuna all’immenso insieme (distinzione che si ri-
88 trova nettamente fra le Entità zoroastriane
corrispondenti: cf. II § 8,4°); passando al limile, dei testi affermano
che Mitra è questo mondo mentre Varuna Valtro mondo, come è certo che ben
presto Mitra rappresentò il giorno e Varuna la notte. Mitra è assimilato
alle forme visibili e usuali del soma e del fuoco, mentre Varuna alle
loro forme invisibili e mitiche. Nelle modalità d'azione, se Mitra
è propriamente il «contratto» e stabilisce tra gli uomini i trattati e le
alleanze, Varuna è un grande mago, signore della màyà, la magia creatrice
delle forme, e in posses¬ so dei «nodi» con cui «afferra» i colpevoli con
una presa irresistibile. Nondimeno essi si oppongono per il foro
carattere : l’ami¬ chevole Mitra è benevolo, dolce, rassicurante,
stimolante; il dio Varuna è impietoso, violento, a volte un po’
demoniaco. Innumerevoli applica¬ zioni illustrano questo teologhema
generale: a Mitra appartiene ciò che è cotto a vapore, a Varuna ciò che è
arrostito; a Mitra il latte, a Varuna il soma inebriante; a Mitra
l’intelligenza, a Varuna la volontà; a Mitra ciò che è ben sacrificato, a
Varuna ciò che è mal sacrificato etc.. Tra le funzioni diverse da
quelle che gli sono proprie, Mitra ha più affinità per la prosperità, la
fecondità e la pace, Varuna per la guer¬ ra e la conquista, tra le
province stesse della sovranità, Mitra è piutto¬ sto - come diceva con
qualche anacronismo A. K. Coomaraswamy - il potere spirituale, mentre
Varuna è il potere temporale, in lutti i casi ri¬ spettivamente il
brdhman e lo ksatrd. L. Renou ( Études vèd. et pànin. II, 1956, p. 110)
ha anche scoperto nel Riveda un’affinità differente, di Varuna per
l'élite e di Mitra per la massa, il popolo comune. I sovra¬ ni Mitra e
Varuna, di diritto e di fatto, sono uguali ed è attuale sia l’uno che
l’altro. Se gli inni pronunciano più spesso il nome di Varuna, ciò non
avviene perché egli è «in procinto» di prendere un’importanza maggiore
rispetto a un «più vecchio» dio Mitra, ma perché, semplice¬ mente, la
specificazione magica e inquietante della sua azione solleci¬ ta all’uomo
più preoccupazioni cultuali del rassicurante e chiaro do¬ minio del
giurista Mitra. Bisogna sottolineare ugualmente che non vi c mai
conflitto tra questi due esseri antitetici, ma al contrario vi è una co¬
stante collaborazione. Questo schema indiano, e prima ancora indo-iranico,
ha fornito la chiave per qualche difficoltà o enigma delle mitologie
occidentali. A Roma, dove tutto il pensiero è concreto e patriottico, in
cui il cosmo e le sue diverse parti richiedono attenzione e riflessione
solo nella misura in cui possono essere utili o nocive all’ Urbe, non ci si può
aspettare di osservare la bipartizione nelle sue generalità. La lontananza
del cielo, l’ordine dell’universo, cose di Varuna, lasciano i Romani
totalmente indifferenti. Ridotta soltanto a qualcuna delle sue specificazioni,
la bipartizione tuttavia sussiste. Se nella Roma storica “dius”, “dius fidius”
-- il dio luminoso e garante della fides, della lealtà e dei giuramenti --
non è più che un aspetto di Jupiter, è vero che sembra esservi stata
tutt’altra situazione nei primordi. Certo, i due dèi erano strettamente
associati e il nome del primo flamine e più vicino a “dius” che a “jupiter”.
Ma il dominio strettamente giuridico che “dius” si accolla, nella sovranità,
porta a considerare il resto – gl’auspici su cui Roma vive, la direzione
mistica della politica romana, i miracoli salvifici della storia romana -- come
più propriamente caratteristici del suo grande socio. Allo stesso
modo, nella teoria dei lampi “dius fidius” ha una specificazione
nettamente mitriaca. Sono i lampi del giorno che gli appartengono,
mentre quelli della notte rivelano una varietà oscura e varunica di “jupiter”,
“summanus”. È probabile che questa teologia complessa abbia
risentito, prima dei nostri testi più antichi, della promozione e, nello stesso
tempo, della riforma teologica di “jupiter” che ha coinciso con la
creazione del suo culto capitolino e con la sostituzione di una triade
«Jupiter O.M, Giunone Regina, Minerva» all’antica triade «Jupiter, Mars,
Quirinus». Lo “jupiter” del Campidoglio sembra essere stato quasi subito
imperialista, fagocitando “dius” e concentrando in sé tutta la sovranità;
ma forse i due piani tradizionali complementari sono ancora segnalati
nella strana doppia titolatura del dio: “ottimo” -- cioè il molto servizievole -- e “massimo” -- cioè
il più alto, posto nell’infinita classificazione delle mciiestcìtes. Sono
questi, in rapporto all 'uomo, i due poli che corrispondono nell’ideologia
vedica a Mitra e Varuna. ÓdINN E Tyr Ma è nel
mondo germanico che l’analogia indiana è particolar¬ mente illuminante.
Né «Mercurio» (cioè *Wópanaz ) nella Germania 90
di Tacito, né Ódinn nei testi nordici sono soli nei loro livelli: vicino
a loro vi è quello che Tacito, per delle ragioni comprensibili e
interes¬ santi, chiama Marte (cioè *Tiuz ) e gli Scandinavi chiamano Tyr.
Que¬ sto dio, omonimo del vedico Dyauh e del greco Zeus, e che al pari
di questi due o del Dius Fidius latino evoca l’idea del cielo luminoso,
è generalmente considerato nei suoi rapporti con *Wópanaz come un
dio «più antico», impallidito di fronte a un nuovo venuto. Benché sia
strano che, a otto o dieci secoli di distanza, Tacito da una parte e i
poeti scandinavi dall’altra abbiano conosciuto e registrato, proprio
allo stesso stadio, l’avanzamento di uno e l’arretramento dell’altro, le
con¬ siderazioni comparative ci incoraggiano a dare un senso strutturale
a questa associazione; dove *Tiuz si è senza dubbio eclissato a
causa dell 'inquietante *'WdJ)anaz, per la stessa ragione per cui Mitra,
teori¬ camente pari a Varuna, riceve meno attenzione da parte dei poeti
e come lui Dius Fidius è meno importante di Jupiter: gli uomini
hanno più attenzione per la sovranità magica che per quella
giuridica. La grande originalità del mondo germanico è quella
segnalata da Tacito con la sua interpretatio romana di *Tiuz in Marte.
Essa per¬ viene a delle considerazioni sviluppate nel precedente
capitolo, in cui abbiamo visto il mago Ódinn annettersi una parte della
funzione guer¬ riera. La stessa cosa accade per il giurista Tyr; ecco
come Snorri lo de¬ finisce (Gylfaginning cap. 25). «Vi è
ancora un Asi che si chiama Tyr. È molto intrepido e co¬ raggioso, ha un
grande potere sulla vittoria in battaglia. Perciò è bene che i guerrieri
valorosi lo invochino. Di alcuni, che sono più co¬ raggiosi degli altri e
che non hanno paura di niente, si dice prover¬ bialmente che sono figli
di Tyr » Questa «marzializzazione» del sovrano giurista dei
Germani non è senza analogia con quella che a Roma ha fatto di Quirino,
dio ca¬ nonico della terza funzione, patrono dei Romani nella pace e
nelle opere di pace, una varietà di Marte. Nei due casi l’evoluzione
sociale ha reagito sugli dèi: dal giorno in cui - forse con la riforma di
Servio - i Quiriti hanno coinciso coi milites e sono diventati «i militi
in congedo tra due appelli», era naturale che Quirino si volgesse verso
il Mars tranquillus, il Mars qui praeest paci aspettando di
saevire. 91 In altre condizioni, meno formali e
più violente, le società ger¬ maniche antiche hanno esteso
all’amministrazione dei tempi di pace i quadri della guerra e l’hanno
riempita dei costumi e dello spirito guer¬ riero. A Roma 1 ’exercitus
urbanus che costituiva l’assemblea legisla¬ tiva, si riuniva al Campo di
Marte ma senza armi. Che si rileggano, al contrario, i passi coloriti in
cui Tacito (Germania , 11 -13) descrive il Pingdei Germani: l’arrivo dei
capi con le loro bande, le armi brandite o battute in segno di voto, le
forme tutte militari del prestigio e deH’-autorevolezza. Ed è in questo
Ping che si formulava il diritto e si regolavano i processi. Qualche
secolo più tardi l’antichità scandinava non ci mostra un diverso
spettacolo: anche là ci si riunisce in armi, si approva alzando la spada
o l’ascia o battendo la spada sullo scudo. Non è dunque sorprendente che
il dio al centro di queste riunioni giuri- dico-gueiTiere, erede del dio
giurista indoeuropeo, rivestisse l’uni¬ forme dei suoi ministri e li
accompagnasse nel loro passaggio, facile e costante, dalla giustizia alla
battaglia e che gli osservatori romani lo avessero considerato come un
Marte. Alcune dediche trovate in Frisia sono rivolte a un Mars Thincsus
che compie l’esatto legame tra lo stato indoeuropeo probabile e il
risultato scandinavo, tra Mitra e Tyr, quel Tyr di cui è stato notato che
il nome segnala, nella toponimia, gli anti¬ chi luoghi del Ping.
Sembra inoltreche, meno ipocriti di altri popol i, gli antichi Ger¬
mani abbiano così riconosciuto, a parte ogni questione dell’apparalo
guerriero, l’analogia profonda tra la procedura del diritto - con le sue
manovre e le sue astuzie, con le sue ingiustizie senza appello - e il
combattimento armato. Ben utilizzato, il diritto è un mezzo per essere il
più forte e per ottenere vittorie che spesso eliminano l’avversario così
radicalmente come in un duello. Quando si dice che Tyr, in segui¬ to a
un’astuzia giuridica, per aver rischiato la sua mano destra come pegno di
un’affermazione utile ma falsa, « è divenuto monco e non è chiamato
pacificatore di uomini», non si tratta che della controparte, del
completamento morale di un fatto materiale: la riunione del Ping in armi,
con intenzioni di potenza (più che di equità) che vede la guerra in ogni
luogo. Queste indicazioni molto generali aiuteranno a
comprendere come un Tiuz-Mars
abbia potuto formarsi a partire da un dio indoeu- 92
ropeo il cui dominio specifico era il diritto e il cui carattere si è
purifi¬ cato e moralizzato, aiutato dalla civilizzazione
progressiva. 5. Gli dèi sovrani minori nel Rgveda: Aryaman e
Bhaga vicino a Mitra Ma negli inni del Rgveda il giurista
Mitra e il magico Varuna, benché sembrino dividersi equamente il dominio
della sovranità, non sono isolati. Essi non sono che quelli più
frequentemente nominati dal gruppo degli Àditya, o figli della dea Aditi,
la Non-Legata, cioè la Li¬ bera, l’Indeterminata. La consi derazione dei
nomi e delle funzioni de¬ gli Àditya in tutti i contesti, lo studio delle
frequenze di menzione di ognuno, frequenze dei loro diversi
raggruppamenti parziali e del loro legame con altri dèi, hanno permesso
di interpretare la struttura che di¬ segnano. Non è qui
possibile beninteso riassumere molto brevemente queste analisi e questi
calcoli, i cui dettagli sono stati pubblicati in due tempi, nel 1949 e
nel 1952. Fin dalla letteratura epica è conservato il ricordo che gli
Àditya sono dèi che, come i due principali tra loro, van¬ no a coppie e
in seguito arriveranno sino a dodici. Nel Rgveda sembra che vi sia già
stata un’oscillazione tra un’antica cifra di seie una prima estensione a
otto, per addizione di due dèi eterogenei. Di questi sei, Mitra e
Varuna formano la prima coppia; di ognu¬ na delle altre due coppie è
facile vedere che un termine agisce sul pia¬ no e secondo lo spirito di
Mitra, mentre 1 ’ altro, simmetricamente, agi¬ sce sul piano e secondo lo
spirito di Varuna, di modo che è legittimo e comodo chiamare queste
figure complementari «sovrani minori». Ma questa cifra di sei sembra
essere stata estratta, per ragioni di simme¬ tria, da un sistema più
breve di quattro dèi sovrani, in cui il sovrano «vicino agli uomini»
Mitra, aveva solo due assistenti, mentre Varuna rimaneva solitario nelle
sue lontananze. I nomi e le distribuzioni di questi Àditya primitivi
sono: I ) Mitra + Aryaman + Bhaga; 2) Varuna. Il principio della stretta
associazione di Aryaman, Bhaga, Mitra, pro¬ vato dalle statistiche delle
menzioni simultanee, è semplice: ognuno di questi dèi esprime e precisa
lo spirito di Mitra su ognuna delle due province che i nteressano 1 ’
uomo, quelle che il diritto romano ritroverà con un altro orientamento,
più individualista, distinguendo le perso- nae e le res.
93 Sotto Mitra, il cui nome e il cui essere definiscono il
tono e il modo generale d’azione che si conosce (giuridico, benevolo,
regolare, orientato verso l’uomo), Aryaman si occupa di preservare la
società degli uomini ari a cui deve il suo nome, mentre Bhaga, il cui
nome si¬ gnifica propriamente parte, assicura la distribuzione e il
godimento regolare dei beni degli Arya. 6. Aryaman
Aryaman protegge l’insieme degli uomini che, uniti o no politi¬
camente, si riconoscono Arya in opposizione ai barbari, e li protegge non
in quanto individui ma come elementi di un insieme: gli aspetti
principali del suo servizio multiforme sono i tre seguenti: 1 )
Favorisce le principali forme di rapporti materiali o contrat¬ tuali tra
Arya. È il «donatore», protegge il «dono» (il che lo obbliga a
interessarsi alla ricchezza e all’abbondanza) e in particolare l’insieme
complesso delle prestazioni che formano l’ospitalità. P. Thieme (Der
Frenullinx im Riveda, 1938) ha messo in risalto questo punto col torto di
farne il centro di ogni concetto divino e di dedurne o negarne tutto il
resto. Infatti Aryaman non c meno primariamente interessato ai matri¬
moni: c pregato come dio delle buone alleanze, scopritore di mariti
(subandhùpativédana: A V, XIV, 1,17); cerca un marito per la fanciul¬ la
giovane o una donna per il celibe (A V, VI, 60,1 ). La sua preoccupa¬
zione per i cammini e per la libera circolazione (c àtùrtapanthà, «colui
il cui cammino non può essere interrotto»; RV, X, 64,5) non deve esse¬ re
negata o minimizzata come è stato fatto da B. Geiger, H. Giintert c P.
Thieme: tutto ciò risalta da un gran numero di strofe di inni e da un
lesto liturgico che lo definisce come il dio che permette al sacrificante
«di andare ove e^li desidera» e di « circolare felicemente » ( Tait-
tir.Samh., II-, 3, 4, 2). 2) La sua cura nei riguardi degli Arya ha
anche un aspetto litur¬ gico: nei tempi antichi è lui che ha munto per la
prima volta la Vacca mitica e di conseguenza, nel corso dei tempi, si
tiene a fianco dell’officiante e munge la Vacca mitica insieme a lui (RV,
1,139,7, col commento di Sàyana). A lui si domanda anche (RV, VII, 60, 9)
di espellere sacrificalmente dall’area sacrificale, tramite delle
libagioni (uva-yuj-), i nemici che ingannano Varuna. Poco curiosi
dell’aldilà, gli autori degli inni non parlano di un’altra forma di
servizio che è, al contrario, la sola di cui l’epopea con¬ servi un
ricordo molto vivo e che è sicuramente antica. Nell’altro mondo Aryaman
presiede il gruppo dei Padri, sorta di geni il cui nome chiari¬ sce
abbastanza l’origine: sono infatti una rappresentazione degli ante¬ nati
morti, e Aryaman è il loro re, che prolungano così nel posl-mortem la
felice promiscuità e la comunità degli Arya viventi. Il cammino che porta
presso i Padri, riservato a quelli che durante la propria vita hanno
praticato esattamente i riti (in opposizione agli asceti e agli yogin), è
chiamato «il cammino di Aryaman » (Mahàbhdrata , XII, 776 etc.). 7.
Bhaga Bhaga si occupa fondamentalmente della ricchezza ed è a
lui che ognuno - debole, forte e il re stesso - si rivolge per averne una
par¬ te (RV , VII, 41, 2). Un esame completo delle strofe vediche che lo
no¬ minano o che impiegano il termine bhd^a come appellativo, ha
per¬ messo di constatare che questa parte è dotata di qualità richieste
alla metà dell’amministrazione sovrana che spetta a Mitra: essa è
regolare, prevedibile, senza sorprese, giunge a scadenza perlina sorta di
gesta¬ zione (il bambino pronto perla nascita «rut> giunge Usuo
bhd^a»: RV, V, 7, 8); essa è il risultalo di un’attribuzione senza
rivalità, implicante un sistema di distribuzione (verbi; vi-bhaj-,
vi-dhr-, day, cf. il greco Sou|.iov); infine è acquisita e conservata
nella calma, è la retribuzione degli uomini maturi, assennali, seniores,
opposti agli iuvenes (RV, I, 91,7 ; V, 41,11 ; IX, 97, 44). L’altra
varietà della parte, imprevedibile, violenta, «varunica», che si
conquista con la battaglia o con la corsa, è designata da un’altra parola
che sin dai tempi indo-iranici aveva una risonanza combattiva e che ha
giustamente fornito ai teologi vedici il nome del «sovrano minore
varunico» simmetrico di Bhaga, Amsa. 8. Trasposizione zoroastriane
di Aryaman e Bhaga: SraoSa e A$i Abbiamo la certezza che
questa struttura era già indo-iranica: come in Iran la lista degli dèi
canonici delle tre funzioni è stala subli¬ mata dallo zoroastrismo puro
in una lista di Entità che gli corrispondo¬ no termine per termine (vedi
II § 8); così gli dèi sovrani minori asso- 95
ciati a Mitra hanno prodotto due figure complementari non comprese
nella lista canonica delle Entità, ma vicine, le cui statistiche dei
ruoli mostrano l’affinità esclusiva dell’una rispetto all’altra, e di
tutte e due rispetto a Vohu Manah (sostituito di *Mitra); e anche nei
testi in cui questo dio ricompare, in relazione a MiGra, mentre niente lo
lega ad Asa (sostituto di *Varuna). In più, per il loro nome come per la loro
funzione, queste due Entità - Sraosa, VObbedienza e la Disciplina , e
Asi, Retribuzione - sono ciò che ci si può attendere da un Aryaman o da
un Bhaga ripensati dai riformatori. E facile vedere punto per punto che
Sraosa è per la comunità dei credenti ciò che Aryaman era per la comunità
degli Arya, la chiesa che rimpiazza la nazionalità. 1) H. S. Nyberg
ha potuto vedere in Sraosa la personificazione «derfrommen Gemeinde», il
termine «genio protettore» sarebbe più esatto ma i 1 punto di applicazione
è noto: Sraosa che è «capo nel mon¬ do materiale come Ohrmazd lo è nel
mondo spirituale e materiale» {Greater Bundahisn, ed. e trad. B. T.
Anklesaria, 1957, XXVI, 45, p. 219) presiede all’ospitalità come già
faceva l’Aryaman vedico (e già indo-iranico; cf. persiano èrmdn,
«ospite», da *airyaman), quando è concessa, si sa, all’uomo buono, allo
zoroastriano (Yasna LVII, 14 e 34). Se non lo si vede più
occupato, specialmente delle alleanze ma¬ trimoniali e della libera
circolazione sui sentieri, nondimeno la sua azione sociale sulle anime è
precisata: egli è il patrono della grande virtù della vita in comune, di
quella che assicura la coesione, cioè la giusta misura, la moderazione (
Zdtspram , XXXIV, 44); è anche il me¬ diatore e il garante del famoso
patto concluso tra il Bene e il Male (Vasi XI, 14) e il demone che gli è
personalmente opposto è il terribile Aesma, il Furore, distruttore della
società ( Bundahisn XXXIV, 27). Rimane una precisa traccia mitica
della sostituzione di Sraosa a un dio protettore degli Arya: secondo il
Menók iXrat, XLIV, 17-35 è lui il signore e il re del paese chiamato Eràn
vèz. (avestico Airyanam vaèjò), quel soggiorno degli Arya da cui, dice
l’A vesta, sono venuti gli Iranici ( Vidèvdat , I, 3). 2)11
ruolo liturgico di Aryaman si è naturalmente amplificato in Sraosa: Yasna
LXII, 2 e 8, dice che fu il primo a sacrificare e cantare gli inni e
tutto l’inizio del suo Yast (XI, 1-7), unicamente consacrato
96 all’elogio della preghiera e all’ esaltazione della loro
potenza, si giusti- fica per questo ricordo. Simmetricamente,
alla fine dei tempi, al tempo del supremo combattimento contro il Male, è
Sraosa che sarà il sacerdote assistente nel sacrificio in cui Ahura Mazda
stesso sarà l’officiante principale (.Bunclcihisn , XXXIV, 29).
3) Infine, come l’Aryaman dell’epopea indiana è il capo della
dimora in cui vanno - attraverso «il cammino di Aryaman» - i morti che
hanno correttamente praticato il culto arya, così Sraosa ha un ruo¬ lo
decisivo nelle notti che seguono immediatamente la morte: egli ac¬
compagna e protegge l’anima del giusto sui sentieri pericolosi che la
conducono al tribunale dei suoi giudici, di cui egli stesso è parte
{Dùuistun-TDénTk XIV, XXVIII, etc.). Asi è sempre una «distribuzio¬ ne»
come lo era Bhaga ma la nuova religione, che conferisce più im¬ portanza
all’aldilà che al mondo dei viventi, gli domanda soprattutto di vegliare
sulla giusta «retribuzione» post-mortem degli atti buoni o cattivi
dell’uomo. Tuttavia anche nelle Gàthà, c palesemente nei testi
post-gathici, pur badando in avvenire al tesoro dei suoi meriti, non di¬
mentica nella vita terrestre di arricchire l’uomo pio c di riempire la
sua casa di beni. L’analisi di questa concezione, già
indo-iranica, della sovranità che non altera la grande bipartizione
ricoperta dai nomi di Mitra e Va- runa, ma dona solamente a Mitra due
assistenti che l’aiutano a favorire il popolo arya, illumina una
particolarità della religione romana di Ju- pitcr che sfortunatamente è
conosciuta solo nella forma capitolina di questa religione. Jupiler O.M,
in cui si concentra tutta la sovranità, sia quella «diale» che quella
propriamente «gioviana» (vedi sopra § 3), ospitava in due cappelle del
suo tempio due divinità minori, Juvenlas e Terminus. Una
leggenda giustificava la coabilazione singolare di questi tre dèi
facendola risalire alla fondazione del tempio capitolino, ma questa
leggenda (che utilizzava del resto un vecchio tema legalo al concetto di
Juvenlas) non prova evidentemente che l’associ azione fosse più antica.
L’analogia indo-iranica ci incoraggia a considerarla come
preromana. 97 Infatti, secondo degli
slittamenti tipici della società romana, Ju- ventas e Terminus giocano a
fianco di JupiterO.M. dei ruoli compara¬ bili a quelli di Aryaman e Bhaga
che affiancano Mitra. Juventas, dice la leggenda eziologica, garantisce a
Roma l’eternità e Terminus la sta¬ bilità sul suo dominio: anche Aryaman
assicura alla società arya la du¬ rata e Bhaga la stabilità delle
proprietà. Ma prese in se stesse, fuori da questa leggenda, le due
divinità romane sono molto di più di tutto que¬ sto: Juventas è la dea
protettrice degli «uomini romani» più interes¬ santi per Roma, gli
iuvenes, parte essenziale e germinati va della socie¬ tà; Terminus
garantisce la spartizione regolare dei beni, dei beni sopratutto
immobili, catastali, appezzamenti di terreno, non delle greggi erranti
che presso i nomadi indo-iranici o tra gli indiani vedici costituivano la
ricchezza essenziale. Nel mondo scandinavo un tale schema di sovrani
minori non si è ancora lasciato identificare, al momento. Non è che
intorno a Ódinn non vi fossero degli dèi che, secondo il poco che si sa
di loro, non aves¬ sero avuto l’incarico di esercitare dei frammenti
specializzati della so¬ vranità, ma queste specificazioni e l’analisi
della funzione sovrana che suppongono sono originali e i loro
rappresentanti non hanno omo¬ loghi indo-iranici e neppure romani. Vi è
Hoenir, riflessivo e prudente e che secondo la fine della Vòluspó è
proiezione mitica di una sorta di sacerdote; vi è Mimir, consigliere di
Ódinn, ridotto a una testa che ri¬ mane pensante e parlante anche dopo la
sua decapitazione; oppure Bragi patrono della poesia e dell’eloquenza.
Ho pensato un tempo ai due fratelli di Ódinn, Vili e Vé, sicura¬
mente antichi poiché l’iniziale del loro nome non si allittera in scandi¬
navo che con una forma preistorica del suo nome (*Wòt>anaz), ma si
conoscono troppo pochi dati per interpretare questa triade e tutt’altra
soluzione sarà proposta più avanti. 11. Condizioni dello studio
teologico della seconda e TERZA FUNZIONE I procedimenti
di analisi e di statistica che hanno permesso di dispiegare e di
esplorare la sovranità - nell’India vedica inizialmente e 98
poi progressivamente nell’organizzazione intema della teologia
della prima funzione - non sono applicabili agli dèi delle funzioni
inferiori e al momento non si è riusciti a trovare un punto di contatto.
Senza dub¬ bio questa differenza è propria della natura delle cose; per i
suoi stessi concetti (i nomi dei personaggi divini sono in gran parte
etimologica¬ mente chiari e molti sono delle astrazioni animate) la prima
funzione si prestava facilmente alla riflessione psicologica e non
bisogna di¬ menticare che i primi filosofi, appartenenti al personale di
questa fun¬ zione, erano dei sacerdoti e non potevano evitare di
applicarvi con pre¬ dilezione la loro analisi. La controparte è che nel
Rgveda questa teologia così ben sviluppata non si raddoppia in una
mitologia ricca in proporzione: di Mitra non è quasi «raccontato» niente;
di Varuna si dice molto di più, ma la lista delle scene in cui interviene
è ridotta e in generale si tratta di potenze e qualità degli dèi sovrani
più che della loro storia, del loro tipo d’azione piuttosto che di azioni
precise com¬ piute da loro. Al contrario, la funzione
guerriera e la funzione di fecondità e prosperità si basano in gran parte
su immagini: più che grazie a dichia¬ razioni di principio, è il ricordo
inesauribile delle imprese o dei famosi benefici che provano l’efficacia
di un dio forte o dei buoni dèi tauma¬ turghi. Così queste due province
divine sono più adatte a degli svilup¬ pi mitologici che a una messa a
fuoco teologica; o forse è meglio dire che la dottrina si abbellisce, si
dissimula e si altera sotto il rigoglio dei racconti. Per il
comparatista questa differenza comporta grandi conse¬ guenze. Senza che
questo fatto capitale sia stato ancora pienamente enunciato, il lettore
ha già potuto osservare che è il confronto delle re¬ ligioni vedica e
romana il più adatto a stabilire o suggerire, grazie al conservatorismo
della seconda, dei fatti indoeuropei comuni, mentre la religione scandinava
non interviene che a titolo di conferma dopo che il percorso comune è già
stato riconosciuto e assicurato. Ora, allo stato delle nostre
conoscenze, la religione romana pre¬ senta ancora una teologia ben
costituita: nel raggruppamento «Jupiter Mars, Quirinus» o nel
raggruppamento trasversale di «Jupiter, Juven- tas, Terminus», essa ha
registrato coscientemente delle articolazioni concettuali molto chiare.
Sfortunatamente bisogna altresì aggiungere che la religione romana non è
più che una teologia: per un processo radicale che caratterizza Roma, i suoi
dèi - e questa volta non solo gli dèi sovrani, ma anche Marte, Quirino,
Ops, eie. - sono stati spogliati di ogni racconto e limitati
asceticamente alle loro essenze, alla loro pro¬ pria funzione. Se dunque
(per la determinazione del quadro generale tripartito e per
l’esplorazione dei primo livello) il confronto di una teo¬ logia vedica
facilmente determinabile, e di una teologia romana im¬ mediatamente
conosciuta, ha permesso i risultali netti coerenti, c sem¬ pre più
completi che si sono appena letti, la stessa cosa non avviene quando si
passa ai due livelli seguenti. India o i Nàsatya vedici non
esprimono le sfumature della pro¬ pria natura che mediante delle avventure
alle quali Marte e Quirino non corrispondono, se non per mezzo della loro
scarna definizione c per ciò che è possibile intravedere dalle dottrine e
dai culti dei loro sa¬ cerdoti: i documenti e i linguaggi delle due
religioni che sono i princi¬ pali sostegni del comparatista non si
combinano più. 12. Mitologia ed epopea La difficoltà
sarebbe probabilmente irriducibile senza un altro fallo, ancora più
importante per i nostri studi, di cui i precedenti capi¬ toli del
presente libro hanno già discretamente fornito qualche esem¬ pio. Le idee
di cui vive una società non danno luogo solamente a delle speculazioni o
a immaginazioni relative agli uomini. La teologia e la mitologia sono
raddoppiate dalle «storie antiche», dall’epopea in cui degli uomini
prestigiosi applicano c dimostrano dei principi che gli dèi incarnano e
dei comportamenti che dipendono da loro. Certo, ben altri fattori
contribuiscono alla formazione dell’epo¬ pea di un popolo, ma è raro che
questa non abbia avuto, in alcuni dei suoi grandi temi c dei suoi primi
moli, un rapporto essenziale con l’ideologia che dirige le
rappresentazioni divine dello stesso popolo. Per i nostri studi
comparativi indoeuropei questa felice circostanza gioca a nostro favore
in due maniere: la seconda è stata da me ricono¬ sciuta nel 1939, mentre
la prima è stala scoperta nel 1947 dal mio col¬ lega svedese Stig
Wikander. Da una parte, la più grande epopea indiana, il
Mahàbhcirata, sviluppa le avventure di un insieme di eroi che corrispondono
parola per parola ai grandi dèi delle tre funzioni della religione vedica
e pre¬ vedrà, di modo che l’India presenta, con questo enorme poema c
col Riveda, lina doppia edizione rispondente, a due differenti
bisogni e con sensibili varianti, alla sua «ideologia in immagini». Dall’
altra par¬ te, se Roma ha perduto tutta la sua mitologia e ha ridotto i
suoi esseri teologici alla loro scarna essenza, ha conservato al
contrario, per costi¬ tuirla in seguito, la storia meravigliosa e
ragionevole delle proprie ori¬ gini, un antico repertorio di racconti
umani, colorati e molteplici, pa¬ ralleli a quelli che avrebbero dovuto
essere in tempi meno austeri le raccolte mitiche degli dèi.
Quest’epopea è l’antica mitologia romana degradata in storia da
Roma stessa? Oppure essa prolunga direttamente un’epopea prero¬ mana e
italica, coesistente con una mitologia che Roma avrebbe per¬ duto senza
traslazione e senza compensazione? L’una e l’altra tesi possono trovare
argomenti nel dettaglio dei fatti, ma per il comparati¬ sta questa
discussione non incide: in ogni caso, il primo libro di Tito Livio
contiene una materia ideologicamente conforme al sistema de¬ gli dèi
romani e drammaticamente comparabile all’epopea e alla mito¬ logia
dell'India. Per tentare di guadagnare qualche chiarimento sui dettagli
delle rappresentazioni indoeuropee della seconda e terza fun¬ zione è
dunque necessario introdurre questi nuovi elementi nel lavoro
comparativo. 13. Il fondo mitico del Mambhjrata secondo S. Wikander
Nell’immenso conllilto dei cugini, che riempie il Mahàbhdra- ta, i
personaggi simpatici c infine vittoriosi sono un gruppo di cinque
fratelli, i Panda va o «figli di Pàndu», che fra i molli tratti notevoli
pre¬ sentano quello di avere in comune una sola sposa per lutti c cinque,
Draupadl. Consideralo dal punto di vista dei costumi, questo regime di
poliandria, così contrario agli usi e allo spirilo degli Arya ma
attribuito qui agli croi che glorificano l’India arya, ha costituito per
più di un se¬ colo un enigma irritante. Nel 1947 Wikander ne ha fornito
la soluzione soddisfacente, scoprendo allo stesso tempo la chiave di
tutto l’intrigo del poema. In realtà i «figli di Pàndu» non
sono i suoi figli. Sotto il peso di una maledizione che lo condanna a
morte nel momento in cui compirà l’alto sessuale, Pàndu si assicura una
posterità con un procedimento eccezionale. Una delle sue mogli, KuntI, in
seguilo ad un’avventura giovanile, aveva ricevuto un privilegio inaudito:
le era sufficiente in- 101 vocare un dio perché
questo sorgesse immediatamente davanti a lei e le donasse un
figlio. Dietro preghiera di suo marito invoca dunque in successione
di¬ versi dèi dai quali concepisce tre figli. Questi dèi sono Dharma,
«la Legge, la Giustizia» (entità in cui si ritrova il vecchio concetto
del giu¬ rista Mitra), poi Vàyu, dio del vento, e infine Indra.
I tre figli sono rispettivamente Yudhisthira, Bhlma e Arjuna. Suo
marito la prega quindi di beneficiare Madri, un’altra sua moglie, di
questa fortuna: KuntI accetta ma per una sola volta e così Madri prende
dalla situazione la parte migliore e chiede che vengano evocati i due
inseparabili ASvin: dagli ASvin concepisce due gemelli, gli ulti¬ mi dei
cinque «figli di Pàndu», Nakula e Sahadeva. Wikander segnalò ben presto
che la lista degli dèi padri - Dharma, Vàyu, Indra e gli ASvin -
riproduceva nell’ordine gerarchico la lista canonica degli antichi dèi
dei tre livelli, ringiovanita e depauperata al primo livello (Dharma che
rappresenta solo Mitra, senza un corrispettivo di Varuna), mentre al
secondo livello conferiva a Indra uno degli associati che aveva ancora
più frequentemente nel Riveda, Vàyu. La diversità armonica dei padri
doveva, in una certa misura, comandare sia il carattere che le azioni
epiche dei figli, come in effetti accade. Yudhisthira è il re,
mentre gli altri Pàndava sono solamente de¬ gli ausiliari; un re giusto,
virtuoso, puro e pio - dhurmuruju - senza specialità o virtù guerriere,
come si conviene a un rappresentante della «metà di Mitra» della sovranità.
Bhlma e Arjuna sono i grandi combattenti dell’insieme. Quanto ai
due gemelli, sono belli ma sopratutlo umili e devoti servitori dei loro
fratelli, come nella teoria delle classi sociali: infatti, la grande vir¬
tù dei vaiSya del terzo livello è quella di servire lealmente le due
classi superiori. L’enigma della loro unica sposa si risolve
immediatamente in questa prospettiva. Non si tratta dunque di un’usanza
aberrante ma della trasposizione epica della concezione vedica,
indo-iranica e pri¬ ma ancora indoeuropea, che completa la lista degli
dèi maschi, tra i quali si analizzano e gerarchizzano le tre funzioni,
con una dea unica ma plurivalente, meglio ancora trivalente, come la
vedica Sarasvatl che comprende in se stessa la sintesi delle tre
funzioni. Sposando DraupadI al pio re, ai due guerrieri e ai due
gemelli servizievoli, l’epopea mette in scena ciò che RV, X, 125
formulava quando faceva proferire alla dea Vàc (tanto vicina a Sarasvatl):
«Sono io che sostengo Mitra-Varunu, che sostengo Indra-Agni e che
sosten¬ go i due Asvin», o che ancora si ritrova nella triplice
titolatura (con un’ulteriore specificazione della terza funzione) della
principale dea dell’Iran, «l’Umida, la Forte, l’Immacolata». Questa
scoperta è stala il punto di partenza di un’ esplorazione di tutto il
poema, soprattutto dei primi libri (che precedono la grande battaglia) ed
è stata certamente chiamata a rinnovare i nostri studi: per la sua
abbondanza, la sua coesione e la sua varietà, la trasposizione epica permette,
partendo dal sistema trifunzionale, da ogni funzione e dalle molte
rappresentazioni connesse, uno studio più profondo e più avanzato di
quanto non lo permettesse l’originale mitologico cono¬ sciuto sopralutto
dalle allusioni dei testi lirici. D’altra parte, sin dal suo articolo del
1947, Wikander ha stabilito un punto molto importante: la struttura
mitologica trasposta nel Mahàbhdruta è sotto molti aspetti più arcaica di
quella del Rgveda poiché conserva dei tratti sfumali in questo innario ma
che le analogie iraniche provano come fosse in¬ do-iranica. Per tale
ragione uno dei primi servigi apportati da questo nuovo studio è stato
quello di rivelare nella funzione guerriera una di¬ cotomia che il Rgveda
ha quasi completamente dimenticato a tutto vantaggio di Indra.
Infatti, come è già stato dimostrato da lavori anteriori della scu¬
ola di Uppsala, Vàyu c Indra erano i patroni, nei tempi prevedici, di due
tipi molto differenti di combattenti i cui figli epici, BhTma e Arju- na,
rendono possibile un’osservazione dettagliala e certamente una parte dei
caratteri fisici dell’Indra vedico devono essere restituiti a Vàyu per un
periodo più antico. Questi due tipi sono facilmente defini¬ bili in
qualche parola. L’eroe del tipo Vàyu è una sorta di bestia umana
dotato di un vi¬ gore fisico mostruoso, le sue armi principali sono le
sue braccia, pro¬ lungale talvolta da un’arma che gli è propria: la
clava. Non è bello né brillante, non è molto intelligente c si abbandona
facilmente a disa¬ strosi eccessi di furore cieco. Infine, opera spesso
da solo, fuori da\Y équipe di cui è tuttavia il protettore designato, per
cercare l’avventura e per uccidere principalmente dei demoni e dei
geni. Al contrario, l’eroe del tipo Indra è un superuomo, un uomo
compiuto e civilizzato, la cui forza è armonizzata; maneggia delle armi
perfezionate (Arjuna è notoriamente un grande arciere e uno spe¬ cialista
delle armi da lancio); è brillante, intelligente, morale e soprat¬ tutto
socievole, guerriero da battaglia più che cercatore di avventura e
generalissimo naturale dell’armata dei suoi fratelli. Questa distinzione è
conosciuta anche dall’epopea iranica, nel¬ la persona del brutale
Kó>rasàspa armato di mazza e legato al culto di Vàyu, oppure nel tipo
dell’eroe più seducente come ©raètaona. In Grecia ricorda
l’opposizione tipologica di Ercole e Achille, ma soprattutto permette di
dare una formulazione più precisa, in Scan¬ dinavia, ai rapporti tra
Ódinn e Pórr e più in generale a quelli della pri¬ ma e seconda funzione.
E stato segnalato, nel secondo capitolo, che Ódinn si era annesso una
parte importante della funzione guerriera. Vediamo ora che si tratta
principalmente (senza che la discriminazio¬ ne sia rigorosa: è Pórr che
al pari di Indra rimane il dio tuonante dello sconvolgimento atmosferico)
della parte che presso gli Indo-Iranici era sotto il magistero di *Indra,
mentre la parte di *Vàyu era piuttosto quella di Pórr, il brutale
picchiatore e l’avventuriero delle spedizioni solitarie contro i giganti.
Tuttociò appare ancora più chiaramente se si considerano nell’ epopea gli
eroi che corrispondono a ciascuno di que¬ sti dèi: gli eroi odinici come
Sigurdr, Helgi e Haraldr sono belli, lumi¬ nosi, socievoli, amati e
aristocratici, mentre l’unico «eroe di Pórr» co¬ nosciuto dall’epopea,
Starkadr, appartiene alla razza dei giganti, un gigante ridotto da Pórr a
forma umana, arcigno, brutale, errante e soli¬ tario, vera replica
scandinava di Bhlma o Ercole. 16. Caratterizzazione funzionale dei
Pàndava Nei primi libri del Mahàbhàrata i poeti, sicuramente
consape¬ voli di questa struttura, si sono cimentati nel dare delle
rappresentazio¬ ni differenziate dei cinque eroi, dettagliando le loro
diverse maniere di reagire a una stessa circostanza. Ne citerò solo due.
Nel momento in cui i cinque fratelli lasciano il palazzo per un ingiusto
esilio che avrà fine solo con la formidabile battaglia in cui otterranno
la loro rivincita, il pio e giusto re Yudhisthira avanza « Velandosi il
volto col suo abito per non rischiare eli bruciare il mondo col suo
sguardo corrucciato». Bhlma «guardale sue enormi braccia» e pensa: «Non
vi è uomo ugua¬ le a me per la forza delle braccia »; egli « mostra le
sue braccia, inor¬ goglito dalla forza delle sue braccia desidera fare
contro i nemici un 'azione pari alla forza delle sue braccia ». Arjuna
sparge la sabbia «raffigurandovi l'immagine di un nugolo di frecce
scoccate contro i nemici». Quanto ai gemelli, la loro preoccupazione è
un’ altra: Nakula, il più bello tra gli uomini, si cosparge tutte le
membra di cenere dicen¬ do: « Che io non possa mai trascinare sulla mia
strada il cuore di una donna!» e suo fratello Sahadeva allo stesso modo
si imbratta il viso (II, 2623-2636). All’inizio dei libro IV (23-71
e 226-253), i cinque fratelli scel¬ gono un mascheramento per soggiornare
in incognito alla corte del re Virata: Yudhisthira, eroe della prima
funzione, si presenta come un brahmano; il brutale Bhlma come un
cuoco-macellaio e un lottatore; Arjuna, coperto di braccialetti e
orecchini, come un maestro di danza; Nakula come un palafreniere esperto
nella cura dei cavalli malati, mentre Sahadeva come un bovaro, informato
di lutto ciò che riguarda la salute e la fecondità delle vacche.
Queste due specificazioni, diverse ma simili, dei gemelli sono
interessanti: se i 1 Rgvedu permette di notare qualche fugace distinzio¬
ne nella coppia indissolubile dei loro padri, Wikander ha sottolineato
l’importanza del criterio qui rivelato. Sempre restando prima di
tutto degli abili medici che ignorano l’agricoltura (il che ci porta a
far risalire indietro di molto questa con¬ cezione), Nakula e Sahadeva si
dividono le due principali province deH’allevamento, riservandosi
rispettivamente l’uno la protezione delle vacche e l’altro quella dei
cavalli, che nel Rgvedu forniscono loro il loro secondo nome collettivo,
Aévin, un derivato di àsva, «ca¬ vallo». Abbiamo così il
primo modello delle formule che si osservano anche altrove a proposito
degli omologhi funzionali dei Nàsatya -ASvin: tra Haurvalà(e Amar3tà( ad
esempio, entità zoroastriane sostituitesi ai gemelli, la ripartizione si compie
all’interno del genere «sa¬ lubrità», sotto le acque e le piante; così
pure, almeno parzialmente, tra il Njòrdr e il Freyr degli Scandinavi, la
distinzione nell’uniforme be¬ neficio dell’«arricchimento» si compie
secondo le due fonti della ric¬ chezza, il mare e la terra.
Si nota qui chiaramente come la considerazione dell’epopea metta in
risalto dei tratti strutturali e suggerisca inchieste feconde. Il
travestimento di Arjuna non è strano a un primo approccio, poiché è
arcaico e di un arcaismo che è conosciuto dal Riveda, in cui Indra è il
«danzatore» e i suoi giovani compagni la banda guerriera dei Marut che si
adorna il corpo di ornamenti d’oro, braccialetti e anelli da cavi¬ glia
che li fanno apparire come dei ricchi pretendenti. Comune alle più
vecchie mitologie c alla sua trasposizione epica, questo tratto è certa¬
mente da riconnetlerc all’insieme del «Mànnerbund» indo-iranico. E forse,
nello stesso ordine di idee, la trasposizione epica lascia intrave¬ dere
un aspetto che gli inni fanno passare in silenzio e che riguarda la
morale particolare di questi gruppi di giovani, quando essa insiste sul
carattere «effeminato» del travestimento scelto da Arjuna. 18.
Pàndu e Varuna Progressivamente sono stale individuate altre
corrispondenze tra l’intrigo del Mahàbhàrata e la mitologia vedica c
prevedica, sem¬ pre con lo stesso vantaggio che l’epopea, narrazione
ampia e continua, facilita in ogni caso l’analisi che, al contrario, c
infastidita dal lirismo degli inni c dalla loro retorica
dell’allusione. Ho così potuto dimostrare come Varuna non sia
assente dalla trasposizione; solo si trova nella generazione anteriore,
inattuale, morta, quando il corrispettivo di Mitra, il figlio di Dharina,
diviene re. Pàndu, il padre putativo dei Pàndava, anche lui re prima del
suo figlio maggiore Yudhisthira, presenta in effetti due caratteri
originali e im¬ probabili che i libri liturgici e un inno attribuiscono
anche a Varuna; a uno di questi caratteri deve il suo nome: pàndu
significa «pallido, gial¬ lo chiaro, bianco», e infatti un incidente di
nascita, o meglio, del con¬ cepimento di Pàndu, ha fatto sì che avesse la
pelle insanamente pallida o bianca. Ora, Varuna è rappresentato in certi
rituali come sukla «bian¬ chissimo» e atigaura «eccessivamente bianco».
L’altro aspetto c di più ampia portata: Pàndu c condannalo
all’equivalente dell’impotenza sessuale, condannato a perire (e così in effetti
perirà) se compie l’atto d’amore; ugualmente, Varuna in circostanze
diverse ( AV , IV, 4, 1 : rituale della consacrazione regale) è
presentato come uno divenuto momentaneamente impotente, devirilizzato
(evirazione che si fa a vantaggio dei suoi parenti; il che ricorda il
mito importante del greco Urano castrato dai suoi figli). Il
lavoro insomma è appena cominciato. Sia io che Wikander speriamo di
estrarre da questa riserva importante del materiale abbon¬ dante e
abbastanza chiaro per delucidare molte incertezze e difficoltà che sono
ancora irrisolvibili sul piano degli inni e per fornire alla rico¬
struzione indoeuropea degli elementi privi di ambiguità.L’epopea romana ha
utilizzato in altra maniera l’ideologia delle tre funzioni insieme alle
loro sfumature. Gli eroi che l’incarnano non sono più dei contemporanei,
dei fratelli semplicemente gerarchizzati; essi si succedevano nel tempo e
progressivamente costituiscono Roma. Non si succedono però nell’ordine
canonico ma in un altro or¬ dine: 1) gemelli pastori (terza funzione); 2)
sovrano «gioviano» se¬ mi-dio, creatore ed eccessi vo (pri ma funzione
del tipo di Varuna) e poi sovrano «diale», umano, pio, regolatore (prima
funzione del tipo Mi¬ tra); 3) infine, un re strettamente guerriero
(seconda funzione). In più, il sovrano gioviano non è altro che uno dei
due gemelli sopravvissuto alla coppia ma profondamente trasformato.
Questa doppia singolarità schiude nuove prospettive all’inchiesta comparativa
ma inizialmente considereremo i rappresentanti delle due prime funzioni
che non implicano problemi inediti. 20. Romolo e Numa e i due
aspetti della prima funzione Nella tradizione annalistica i due
fondatori di Roma, Romolo e Numa, formano un’antitesi abbastanza
regolare, sviluppata nello stes¬ so senso di quella di Varuna eMitra
nella letteratura vedica. Ogni cosa si oppone nel loro carattere, nei
loro fondamenti e nella loro storia, ma in un’opposizione senza ostilità:
Numa completa l’opera di Romolo donando all’ ideologia regale di Roma il
suo secondo polo, necessario quanto il primo. Quando nel VI canto d
t\VEneide, negli Inferi, Anchise li pre¬ senta tutti e due in qualche
verso al suo figlio Enea (vv. 777-784 e 808-812), definisce Romolo come
il bellicoso semidio creatore di Roma e, grazie ai suoi auspici, l’autore
della potenza romana e della sua Crescita continua (et huius, nate,
auspiciis illa inclita Roma impe- rium terris, animos aequabit Olympo)\
poi Numa come il re-sacerdote portatore di oggetti sacri, sacra ferens,
coronato di olivo che fonda Roma donandogli delle leggi, legibus.
Tutto si ordina intorno a questa differenza - «l’altro mondo e
questo qui» - in cui i sacra, i culti in cui l’uomo ha l’iniziativa,
equili¬ brano eccellentemente gli auspicio, in cui l’uomo non fa che
decifrare il linguaggio miracoloso di Giove. Si verifica
istantaneamente che l’opposizione tra i due tipi di sovrani ricopre punto
per punto quella analizzata nel caso di Varuna e Mitra (vedi III, § 2).
Ugual mente importanti, sia l’uno che l’altro nella genesi di Roma,
Romolo e Numa non sono posizionati nella stessa metà del mondo.
Ingenuamente Plutarco mette nella bocca del secondo, quando spiega
agli ambasciatori di Roma le motivazioni del rifiuto del regno, una
osservazione molto giusta (Numa, 5,4-5): «Si attribuisce a Romo¬ lo la
gloria di essere nato da un dio, non si finisce di dire che è stato
nutrito e salvato nella sua infanzia grazie a una protezione particola¬
re della divinità; io, al contrario, sono di una razza mortale, sono sta¬
to nutrito e allevato da uomini che voi conoscete». I loro modi di
azione non differiscono di molto e la differenza si esprime in maniera
sorprendente in ciò che si possono chiamare i loro dèi prediletti.
Romolo stabilisce solo due culti che sono due specificazioni di
Jupiter - quel Jupiter che gli ha donato la promessa degli auspici -
Jupi- ter Feretrius e Jupiter Stator che si accordano nel fatto che Giove
è il dio protettore del regnum, ma relativamente ai combattimenti e
alle vittorie; e la seconda vittoria è dovuta a una prestidigitazione
sovrana di Giove, a «un cambiamento di vista» contro il quale nessuna
forza può niente e che capovolge l’ordine normale e consueto degli
avveni¬ menti. Al contrario, tutti gli autori insistono sulla devozione
particola¬ re che Numa rivolge a Fides. Dionigi di Alicamasso scrive
(II, 75): « Non vi è sentimento più elevato e più sacro della buona fede,
sia negli affari di stato che nei rapporti tra individui; essendosi ben
persuaso di questa verità Numa, il primo fra gli uomini, ha fondato un
santuario della Fides Publica e istituito in suo onore dei sacrifìci
ufficiali come quelli delle altre divi¬ nità». Plutarco {Numa, 16,1) dice
similmente che fu il primo a costrui¬ re un tempio a Fides e insegnò ai
Romani il loro più grande giuramen¬ to, il giuramento di Fides. Si vede
bene come questa distribuzione sia conforme all’essenza delle due
divinità sovrane antitetiche, Varuna e Mitra, Jupiter e Dius Fidius. Il
carattere dei due dèi si oppone allo stes¬ so modo: Romolo è un violento,
descritto dagli annalisti come un ti¬ ranno, secondo il modello greco ed
etrusco, ma con dei tratti sicura¬ mente antichi: « Vi erano sempre
vicino a lui - dice Plutarco ( Romolo , 26, 3-4) - quei giovani chiamati
Celeres a causa della loro prontezza nell'eseguire i suoi ordini. Non
compariva in pubblico che preceduto dai littori armati di verghe, con le
quali respingevano la folla, cinti di corregge con cui legavano sul posto
quello che lui ordinava di arre¬ stare». A questo sovrano, così
materialmente «legatore» come Varu¬ na, si oppone il buono e calmo Numa,
la cui prima iniziativa una volta di venuto re fu quella di sciogliere il
corpo dei Celeres e come seconda di organizzare ( ibidem) o creare (Tito
Livio, I, 20) i tre flamines maio- res. Numa è privo di ogni passione,
anche di quelle sti mate dai barbari, come la violenza e l’ambizione
(Plut. Numa, 3, 6). Di conseguenza, le affinità dell’uno sono tutte
per la funzione guerriera, quelle dell’altro per la funzione di
prosperità. Anche nel suo consiglio postumo, Romolo, il dio dei tre
trionfi, prescrive ai Romani: rem militarem colant (Tito Livio, I, 16,
7). Numa si assegna il compito di disabituare i Romani alla
guerra (PI ut. Numa, 8, 14) e la pace non è rotta in alcun momento del
suo re¬ gno (ibidem, 20, 6); offre un buon accordo ai Fidenates che
compiono razzie sulle sue terre e istituisce in questa occasione, secondo
una va¬ riante, i sacerdoti feziali, per vegliare sul rispetto delle
forme che im¬ pediscono o limitano la violenza (Dionigi di Alicamasso,
II, 72; Plu¬ tarco, Numa, 12, 4). Distribuisce ai cittadini
indigenti i territori occupati da Romolo «per sottrarli alla miseria,
causa quasi necessaria della perversità, e per spingere verso l ’ag
ricoltura lo spirito del popolo, che domando la terra si addolcirà»-,
divide tutto il territorio in vici, con ispettori e com¬ missari che lui
stesso controlla « giudicando i costumi dei cittadini in base al lavoro,
premiando con onori e poteri coloro che si distinguono perla loro
attività, biasimando i pigri e correggendo le loro negligen¬ ze» (Plut.
ibid. 16,3-7). Limitiamo a ciò la comparazione che potrebbe comunque
proseguire dettagliatamente, poiché è evidente che gli an¬ nalisti si
sono ingegnati a spingere in ogni direzione l’opposizione tra i due re,
l’uno iuvenesjerox, odioso ai senator es (e forse ucciso da que¬ sti)
senza bambini etc., mentre l’altro è un senex tipico, gravis, sepolto
piamente dai senatori, antenato di numerose genti. Delle pretese
gentilizie, o l’imitazione di modelli greci, hanno potuto introdurre più
di un dettaglio e in di verse epoche in queste «vite parallele inverse» e
sicuramente in quella di Numa. Ma è chiaro che queste stesse
innovazioni si sono uniformate a un dato tradizionale, la cui intenzione
era di illustrare due tipi di re, due modelli di sovranità, quelli stessi
conosciuti dall’India sotto i nomi di Varuna e Mitra. 21. Tullo
Ostilio e la funzione guerriera Dopo la funzione sovrana la
funzione guerriera, dopo Romolo e Numa, vi è Tullo Ostilio, che Anchise
presenta ad Enea ( En . VI, 815) come colui «che riporterà alle armi, in
arme, i cittadini divenuti casa¬ linghi e disabituati ai trionfi». Arma,
come auspicia e sacra per i suoi predecessori, segnala qui l’essenza del
suo carattere e della sua opera: militaris rei institutor dirà Orosio e
prima di lui Floro: «La regalità gli fu conferita in base al suo
coraggio: è lui che ha fondato tutto il siste¬ ma militare e l'arte della
guerra; di conseguenza dopo aver esercitato in maniera sorprendente la
iuventas romana osò provocare gli Alba¬ ni». 22.1 miti di
Indra e la leggenda di Tullo Ostilio È in questo caso che il
confronto tra l’epopea romana e la mito¬ logia ha dato ( 1956) i
risultati più inattesi e ha permesso di ampliare lo studio dettagliato
della funzione guerriera indoeuropea, il cui solo confronto della
teologia esplicita non lasciava intravedere che i mag¬ giori aspetti:
nelle loro «lezioni» ma anche nelle loro affabulazioni, i due episodi
solidali che costituiscono la «storia» di Tulio - la vittoria del terzo
Orazio sui treCuriazi e il castigo di Mezio Fufezio che salva¬ no Roma
del pericolo che correva il suo nascente imperium, uno per la
subordinazione di Alba, l’altro per la sua distruzione - rispecchiano da
vicino i due principali miti di Indra che la tradizione epica presenta
spesso come conseguenti e solidali, cioè la vittoria di Indra e di Trita
sul Tricefalo e la morte di Namuci. Non è possibile qui che mettere in un
quadro schematico le omologie, pregando il lettore interessato di
riportarsi al libro in cui gli argomenti e le conseguenze sono lunga¬
mente esposti. A, a) (India). Nell’ambito della loro rivalità
generale coi demo¬ ni, gli dèi sono minacciati dall’imbattibile mostro a
tre teste che è tut¬ tavia il «figlio dell’amico » (nel Riveda) o il
cugino germano degli dèi (nei Brahmano e nell’epopea) ed inoltre,
brahmano e cappellano degli dèi: Indra (nel Rgveda) spinge Trita «il
terzo» dei tre fratelli Àptya, a uccidere il Tricefalo e Trita in effetti
lo uccide, salvando gli dèi. Ma quest’atto, morte di un parente, di un
alleato o di un brahmano, com¬ porta un’impurità che Indra scarica su
Trita o sugli Àptya che la liqui¬ dano ritualmente. Da allora gli Àptya
sono specializzati nell’eli¬ minazione delle diverse impurità e in
particolare, in ogni sacrificio, di quella che comporla l’inevitabile
messa a morte della vittima. b) (Roma). Per regolare il lungo
conflitto in cui Roma e Alba si disputano Vimperium, le due parti
convengono di opporre i tre gemelli Orazi e i tre gemelli Curiazi (l’uno
dei quali è fidanzato a una sorella degli Orazi e che, anche nella
versione seguita da Dionigi di Alicar- nasso, sono cugini germani degli
Orazi). Nel combattimento ben presto non rimane che un Orazio,
ma questo «terzo» uccide i suoi tre avversari dando Vimperium a
Roma. Nella versione di Dionigi questa morte dei cugini rischia di
produrre un’impurità, ma una nota del casista la evita: poiché i Curiazi
hanno accettato per primi l’idea del combattimento, la responsabilità
cade su di loro. Ma 1 ’ impurità generata dal sangue famigliare è
ripartita subito, trasferita, su un episodio che non ha paralleli nel
racconto indiano: il terzo Orazio uccide sua sorella che lo ha maledetto
per la morte del suo fidanzato. La gens Oratia deve dunque liquidare
quest’impurità e ogni anno continua a offrire un sacrificio espiatorio:
la data di questo sacrificio, all’inizio del mese che pone fine alle
campagne militari (calende di ottobre), suggerisce che queste espiazioni
riguardavano (da là la leggenda di Horatius) i soldati che ritornavano a
Roma, macchiati dalle inevitabili morti della battaglia. B,
a) (India). Il demone Namuci dopo leprime ostilità conclude un patto di
amicizia con Indra che si impegna a non ucciderlo «né di giorno né di
notte, né col secco né con l'umido ». Un giorno, approfit¬ tando a
tradimento di un momento di debolezza, in cui Indra è stato messo dal
padre del Tricefalo, Namuci spoglia Indra di tutti i suoi at¬ tributi:
forza, virilità, soma, nutrimento. Indra chiama in suo soccorso gli dèi
canonici della terza funzione, Sarasvatl e gli Asvin, che gli ren¬ dono
la sua forza e gli indicano il sistema per mantenere la parola data pur
violandola: egli non deve che assalire Namuci all’alba (quando non è né
giorno né notte) e con della schiuma (che non è né secca né umida). Indra
sorprende così Namuci che non sospetta c lo decapita in maniera bizzarra,
«burrificando» la sua testa nella schiuma. b) (Roma). Dopo la
disfatta dei tre Curiazi, il capo degli Albani, Mezio Fufezio, si pone in
Alba sotto gli ordini di Tulio, in virtù della convenzione. Ma
segretamente tradisce il suo alleato e durante la bat¬ taglia contro i
Fidenati si ritira con le sue truppe su un’altura, scopren¬ do il fianco
dei Romani. In questo pericolo mortale Tulio fa dei voti alla divinità
della terza funzione, Quirino, e diventa vincitore. Benché al corrente
del tradimento di Mezio, finge di lasciarsi abbindolare e convoca al
pretorio, per felicitarsi, gli Albani che non sospettano. Là sorprende
Mezio, lo fa afferrare e lo condanna a una pena unica nella storia di
Roma, lo squartamento. 23. Rapporti della funzione guerriera con le
altre due Attraverso questi miti e queste leggende è tutta una
filosofia della necessità, dell’impeto cdei rischi della funzione
guerriera, che si esprime, come pure una concezione coerente dei rapporti
di questa l’unzione centrale con la terza, clic mobilita al suo servizio;
e con l’aspetto «Mitra-Fides» della prima che tuttavia non rispetta
affatto e che non può rispettare poiché, impegnata nell’azione e nei
pericoli, come potrebbe mai accettare che la fedeltà ai princìpi invalidi
questa azione disarmandola di fronte ai pericoli? Anche i rapporti di
Indra e Tulio Ostilio con l’aspetto «Varuna-Jupiler» della funzione
sovrana non procedono senza scontri: abbiamo già ricordato gli inni
vedici in cui Indra sfida Varuna, vantandosi di sconfiggere
la sua potenza (e gli Hàrbcirdsljód d tWEdda allo stesso modo oppongono
Ódinn e Pórr in un dialogo ingiurioso). Quanto aTullo, egli è a Roma uno
scandalo vi¬ vente, il re empio e la fi ne della sua storia non è che la
ten ibile vendet¬ ta che Jupiter, maestro delle grandi magie, si prende
contro questo re troppo guerriero che l’ha ignorato per lungo
tempo. Un’epidemia colpisce le sue truppe da lui obbligate tuttavia
a continuare la guerra, sino al giorno in cui egli stesso contrae una
lunga malattia; dice allora Tito Livio (I, 31,6-8): «lui, che
fino a questi tempi aveva creduto che niente è meno degno di un re che
applicare il proprio spirito alle cose sacre, improv¬ visamente si
abbandonò a tutte le superstizioni, grandi e piccole, e propagò anche fra
il popolo delle vane pratiche... Si dice che il re stes¬ so consultando i
libri di Numa vi trovò la ricetta di certi sacrifìci se¬ greti in onore
di Jupiter Elicius. Egli si appartò per celebrarli. Ma sia all’inizio che
nel corso della cerimonia commise un errore rituale, di modo che, invece
di veder comparire una figura divina, irritò Jupiter con un'evocazione
mal condotta e fu bruciato dalla folgore, lui e la sua casa»
Queste sono le fatalità della funzione guerriera. Se Indra, il
grande peccatore Indra, non perviene a questa drammatica fine è per¬ ché
egli è un dio e in ogni caso la sua forza e i suoi servigi sono ciò che
più interessano gli uomini. Quanto ai gemelli - che Roma nel Lazio non era
l’unica a onora¬ re, poiché la leggenda prenestina poneva una coppia nei
tempi delle sue origini - l’epopea romana li mette al posto d’onore nella
persona di Romolo e Remo. Vi è una differenza totale tra il Romolo re,
che abbia¬ mo visto opposto a Numa nella seconda ed ultima parte della
sua car¬ riera, e il Romolo prima di Roma, il Remo cumfratre Quirinus.
Questa differenza risalta in effetti a proposito della stessa fondazione,
nella disputa degli auspici e nella morte d i Remo: Romolo cessa allora
di es¬ sere «uno dei due gemelli», il socio fedele e senza contesa di suo
fra- 113 tello, per diventare il re
prestigioso, creatore, terribile, tirannico e isti¬ tutore di quegli
uomini che portano davanti a lui delle corde, pronte a «legare» nel senso
letterale del termine, al pari del suo omologo del pantheon vedico,
Varuna, armato di lacci. La corrispondenza tipologica dei gemelli
dell’epopea romana e degli dèi gemelli, Nàsatya-ASvin, che terminano la
lista trifunzionale indo-iranica, è precisa. Sino alla loro dipartita da
Alba, e alla fondazio¬ ne dell’Urbe, sono della terza funzione: pastori
allevati da un pastore, vivono una vita esemplare da pastori messa in
risalto solo da un gusto marcato per la caccia e gli esercizi fisici. In
questa definizione pastorale l’evoluzione della proto-civilizzazione
romana (scomparsa del carro da guerra) ha eliminato la «parte del
cavallo» (in evidenza nella parola ASvin), non rimane quindi che la «parte
del bue e del montone», per si¬ tuare maggiormente Romolo e Remo
nell’economia rurale. I Nàsatya, come si ricorderà, sono
inizialmente tenuti a distanza dagli dèi perché troppo «mescolati agli
uomini» ( Éat. Brùhm ., IV, 1,5, 14, etc.) e nella letteratura posteriore
saranno considerati come degli dèi Sfldra, dèi di ciò che vi è di più
basso e fuori-casta, in rapporto alla società ordinata. Così
vivono, pensano e agiscono Romolo e suo fratello. Non vi è in essi niente
di «sovrano», nessun rispetto per 1 ’ ordine. Devoti ai più umili,
disprezzano gli intendenti, gli ispettori e i capi del bestiame del re
(Plutarco, Romolo, 6, 7). Il gruppo che li seguirà nella loro rivolta
sarà un gruppo di pastori (Tito Livio, 1, 5, 7) o un’assemblea di indi¬
genti o schiavi (Plutarco, Romolo , 7, 2) prefiguranti l’eterogenea po¬
polazione dell’Asilo ( ibidem , 9, 5). Sono raddrizzatori di torti:
come i Nàsatya passano il loro tem¬ po a riparare le ingiustizie degli
uomini o della sorte. Essendo sempli¬ cemente degli dèi i Nàsatya compiono
le loro liberazioni, restaurazio¬ ni e guarigioni per mezzo di miracoli,
mentre Romolo e Remo non possono ricorrere che a mezzi umani per
proteggere i loro amici contro i briganti, ristabilire nei loro diritti i
pastori di Numitore maltrattati da quelli di Amulio e, finalmente, punire
Amulio. Uno dei più celebri ser¬ vigi dei Nàsatya, origine della loro
fortuna divina, è stato quello di aver ringiovanito il vecchio decrepito
Cyavana; la grande impresa di Romolo e Remo, origine della fortuna del primo,
fu allo stesso modo quella di aver riabilitato il loro vecchio nonno che
era stato privato del¬ la regalità di Alba. I due Nàsatya nel
Riveda sono quasi indivisibili, agiscono in¬ sieme ma tuttavia un testo
segnala una grave disuguaglianza che ricor¬ da quella dei Dioscuri greci:
uno di essi è figlio del Cielo, l’altro è fi¬ glio di un uomo. La
disuguaglianza dei gemelli romani è differente ma considerevole: uguali
per nascita, uno solo di essi proseguirà la sua carriera diventando un
dio - il dio canonico della terza funzione, Quiri¬ no -1’altro perirà
precocemente non ricevendo più che i soli onori abi¬ tuali attribuiti ai
morti eminenti. Ovidio potrà dire di loro {Fasti, II 395-6): « ut quam
sunt similes! At quamformosus uterque! Plus tamen ex illis iste vigoris
habet ...» Certe azioni estranee ai Nàsatya - mal conosciute come
tutta la loro mitologia - sembrano ricordare dei tratti della leggenda di
Romo¬ lo e Remo, talvolta solo con una inversione (protettori e non
protetti) che testimonia come essi siano degli dèi e i gemelli romani
degli uomi¬ ni. Uno dei servigi frequenti dei Nàsatya è di fare cessare
la sterilità delle donne e delle femmine; ora, Romolo e Remo sono i primi
capi dei Luperci, un compito dei quali è di rendere madri le donne
romane con la flagellazione (una leggenda eziologica, che pone l’origine
di questo rito dopo la fondazione di Roma c il ratto delle Sabine, dice
che è stato destinato inizialmente a far cessare una sterilità
generale). In tutto il Rgveda il lupo è un essere mal visto, è il
nemico; l’unica eccezione si trova nel ciclo dei Nàsatya: un giovane uomo
ave¬ va sgozzato cento c un montoni per nutrire una lupa e per
punizione suo padre lo aveva accecato. Dietro preghiera della lupa i
gemelli divi¬ ni resero la vista allo sfortunato. Nella storia di Romolo
e Remo, c solo in essa a Roma, non è più in quanto nutrita ma come
nutrice che la lupa occupa il posto eminente che ben si conosce. Nei riti
e nelle leggende dei Luperci (Ovidio, Fasti, II, 361-379), nel racconto
sulla giovinezza di Romolo e Remo (Plutarco, Romolo, 6, 8) le corse
giocano un ruolo considerevole; ugualmente le corse in carro ncl4
mitologia degli ASvin. Un aspetto sfortunatamente oscuro
della festa rustica di Palcs (il «cavallo mutilato», curtus equos), come
pure il concetto stesso del¬ la dea «Pales», così strettamente legato a
Romolo e Remo e alla fonda¬ zione di Roma, ricordano la leggenda in cui i
Nàsatya rimettono in for- ze la giumenta detta «Pula del
w.f» (vis, principio della terza funzione e anche «clan») che durante una
corsa si era spezzata le gambe. Questo confronto sommario è sufficiente a
stabilire che, nella loro carriera «preromana», Romolo e Remo
corrispondono così precisamente ai Nàsatya come Romolo, divenuto re, e il
suo successore Numa corri¬ spondono a Varuna e Mitra e Tulio a Indra.
Quando Romolo muore verrà deificato sotto il nome del dio canonico della
terza funzione, Quirino, ritornando quindi al suo valore primigenio e,
sia dello di sfuggita, questa notevole convergenza spinge a rivedere
l’idea gene¬ ralmente ammessa che l’assimilazione di Romolo a Quirino sia
secon¬ daria e tardiva. 25. La terza funzione, fondamento
delle altre due Riguardo l’ordine di apparizione delle tre funzioni
nell’epopea delle origini romane - 3, 1, 2 - c la trasformazione dello
stesso Romolo da «Nàsatya» in «Varuna», queste non sono senza paralleli c
rivelano un aspetto della struttura trifunzionale che ancora non abbiamo
avuto occasione di segnalare. Vediamo qui come una conferma del fatto
cer¬ to che, se è vero che la terza funzione è la più umile, nondimeno
essa è il fondamento e la condizione della altre due. Come vivrebbero
maghi e guerrieri se i pastori-agricoltori non li sostenessero? Nella
leggenda iranica, Yima al pari di Romolo diviene un re prestigioso e
eccessivo sfidando Ahura Mazda - dopo essere stato differenzialmente,
nella primaparte della sua vita, un buon «eroe della terza funzione» dai
ric¬ chi pascoli, sotto cui la malattia c la morte non affliggevano ne
l’uomo né la bestia né le piante ( Yust , XIX, 30-34). Nell’epopea osscla
(vedi sopra I § 4), i due gemelli /Exsaert e /Exsaertacg, dei quali il
secondo uc¬ cide il primo in un eccesso di gelosia, genera poi la
famiglia degli i£xsaertaegkalae (la famiglia dei Forti, dei Guerrieri)
che sono usciti se¬ condo certe varianti dalla razza di «Bora», cioè dai
Boratae (una fami¬ glia di ricchi). È la stessa filosofia che
si esprime nei rituali indiani sulla stessa area sacrificale: devono
essere riuniti tre fuochi corrispondenti alle tre funzioni; un fuoco che
trasmette le offerte agli dèi, un fuoco che difen¬ de contro i demoni e
un fuoco padrone della casa; ora, quest’ultimo presenta i caratteri di un
«fuoco vatéya» che è il fuoco fondamentale acceso per primo e che serve
per accendere gli altri. 26. Sviluppo della ricerca
Il lettore è stato quindi introdotto non solo nel deposito in cui
sono classificati i risultati ma, per la teologia e la mitologia di
ognuna delle tre funzioni, e notoriamente della seconda e della terza, lo
si è l'at¬ to penetrare nel campo degli stessi scavi in cui il
comparatista si batte ancora con la sua materia. Il lavoro continua, con
le sue procedure or¬ dinarie che non sono solo ritrovamenti nuovi ma
anche delle correzio¬ ni, delle reinterpretazioni dei dettagli alla luce
dell’insieme meglio compreso e generalmente delle riflessioni critiche
sui bilanci anterio¬ ri. Prima di prendere congedo la guida deve
ricordare che, per impor¬ tante o centrale che sia l’ideologia delle tre
funzioni, essa è ben lungi dal costituire tutta l’eredità indoeuropea
comune che l’analisi compa¬ rativa può intravedere o ricostruire. Un gran
numero di altri cantieri più o meno indipendenti sono aperti : sugli «dèi
iniziali», sulla dea Au¬ rora e su qualche altro, sulla mitologia delle
crisi del sole, sulle varietà del sacerdozio, sui meccanismi rituali e
sui concetti fondamentali del pensiero religioso, la comparazione, e
specialmente la comparazione dei fatti indo-iranici e romani, ha già
permesso c permetterà di ricono¬ scere delle coincidenze che è difficile
attribuire al caso. Note ai paragrafi § 2. La
struttura bipolare della sovranità è l’argomento di MV; il capitolo III
di NA studia i fatti iranici (Vohu Manah c Asa). A proposito di questi
ulti¬ mi la critica di W. LENTZ, «Yasna 2<f», Abh. Ak. tV/'.r.r. li.
Ut. Mainz.., 1954, p. 963, non regge; non più dei poeti del Riveda per
Mitra e Varuna, quelli delle Gàthà avevano la preoccupazione, in tutte le
circostanze o in molte circostan¬ ze, di caratterizzare differenzialmente
Vohu Manah c Asa; questo è vero per lo Yasna 28 in cui ogni strofa nomina
contemporaneamente le due Entità esattamente come RV, V, 69, in cui ogni
strofa nomina simultaneamente i due dèi senza cercare di distinguerli.
Per Vohu Manali vedi G. WlDENGREN, The f>reai Vohu Manah and thè
Apostle ofGod, 1945. Per Mi9ra e Ahura Mazda nella nuova prospettiva vedi
MV, cap. V, § v (da correggere dopo WlDEN¬ GREN, Numen, I, 1954, p. 46,
n. 148); J. DUCHESNE-GUILLEMIN, Zoroastre , 1948, pp. 87-93; da S.
WlKANDER, Orientalia Suecana, I, 1952, pp. 66-68 (sul Mesoromazdés di
Plutarco). L’importante affinità del Varuna vcdicocon F
oceano, f ortemente marcata da H. LUDERS, Varuna , I ( Varuna linci die
Was- ser), 1951, sarà esaminata ulteriormente i n un quadro
comparativo. § 3. MV, cap. IV. § 4. MV, cap. VII: si
hanno ora le esposizioni di J. DE VRIES, Altgerm. Rei. -Gesch., Ir, 1957,
§§ 409-412 e di W. BETZ (vedi sopra, nota a II, §§ 19-20) «Die altgerm.
Religion», col. 2485-2498. § 5. Le troisième souverain, essai sur
le_ clieu indo-ircuiien Aryaman, 1949; DIE, pp. 40-59. Su Aditi, madre
degli Aditya, in quanto «madre e fi¬ glia» di uno di essi, vedi Déesses
latines et mythes védique , 1956, cap. III. Ri¬ fiutando e caricaturando
in ZDMG, 117, 1957, pp. 96-104 la rettifica che avevo proposto alla sua
interpretazione (1938) di ari (non importa quale «Fremdling», ma già con
una nota di nazionalità, l’insieme o un membro del mondo arya - alleato o
avversario), P. THIEME compie il tour de force di di¬ scutere senza
menzionare il mio libro su Aryaman, che è il contesto naturale di questa
rettifica, e mi attribuisce non so quale metodo sintetico, intuitivo,
etc. No: il mio studio su Aryaman procede per una analisi completa e
detta¬ gliata dei testi vedici in cui è menzionato. Esaminerò
successivamente questa curiosa risposta nel JA e spero che P. Thieme
userà più fair play nello studio che sta preparando, mi dicono, su
«Mithra e Aryaman», (vedi l’Appendice). § 6. DIE, pp. 50-51,
riassumendo Le troisième souverain. § 7. DIE, pp. 51-52. Sugli
Àditya Daksa e Amsa, ihid., pp. 55-58. § 8. DIE, pp. 59-67; K.
Barr, Àvesta, 1954, pp. 184-185, 193, 215. § 9. DIE, pp.68-75. Per
Juventas è stato segnalalo un notevole riscontro nel mondo celtico: come
Juventas rifiuta di lasciare il colle capitolino in favo¬ re di Jupiter
O.M., che è obbligato ad ospitarla per sempre nel suo tempio, così
l'irlandese Mac Oc («il Giovane Figlio»), antico dio protettore della
gio¬ ventù, si impone nel tumulo in cui vive il vecchio dio sovrano Dagda
e si fa concedere «un giorno e una notte », poi arguendo che il giorno e
la notte fanno la totalità del tempo, rifiuta di uscire e resta maestro
del luogo («Jeunessc, éternité, aube», Annales d’histoire économique et
sociale , 1928, pp. 289-301. § 10. DIE, pp. 76-77.
§ 11. Vedi la prefazione di Aspects... § 12-24.1 servigi che bisogna
richiedere alla pseudo-storia delle origini romane comparata con la
mitologia indiana o scandinava, sono stati ben pre¬ sto riconosciuti:
JMQ, cap. V; Horace et les Curiaces, 1942, pp. 65-70; Ser- vius et la
Fortune , 1943, pp. 112-119; riassunto in L’hérìtage..., cap. Ili e in
«Mythes romains», Revue de Paris, die. 1951, pp. 105-118. Sull’epoca in
cui I’affabulazione definitiva degli antichi miti si è prodotta (senza
dubbio tra il 350 e il 280 a giudicare dagli anacronismi che vi sono
inseriti), vedi L’héritage..., p. 181, n. 49. § 13.
L’interpretazione dell’intrigo del Mahcibhàrata è stata data da S.
WlKANDER in un suo articolo fondamentale, «Pandava-sagan och
Mahàbhàratas myliska fòrutsattningar», Religion neh Bibel, VI, 1947
pp. 27-39, in gran parte tradotto e commentato nel niio JMQ IV, pp.
37-85; cf. WlKANDER, «Sur le fonds commun indo-iranien des épopées de la
Perse et de l’Inde», NC, VII, 1950, pp. 310-329. Nel dominio germanico un
caso paralle¬ lo (il trasferimento su Hadingus della Mitologia di Njordr)
è stato studialo in La saga de Hadingus (Saxo Granunaticus, I, V-VIII),
du mythe au roman, 1953. Mentre il presente libro era in stampa, in
Orientalia Sue vana, sotto il ti¬ tolo «Nakula e Sahadeva». WlKANDER
faceva considerevolmente avanzare l’analisi dei gemelli epici e divini
(vedi sotto § 24). § 14. Su Vàyu-Indra, vedi «Pàndava sagan...»,
pp. 33-36; è il risultalo dei lavori diH.S. NYBERG, Die Reli gioiteti des
altea Iran, 1938, pp. 75, 300, 317; di G. WlDENGREN, Hochgattglaube ini
alten Iran, 1938, pp. 188-215; di S. WlKANDER, Vayu, I, 1941, V.I. AbaEV
ha riconosciuto il dio indo-iranico * Vayu nel nome generico dei
«giganti» (f orti, catti vi, bestie) presso gli Osse- ti, weijug (da
*Vayu-ka-), Trudy lnstituta Jazykaznanija, VI, 1956, pp. 450-457, che io
ho commentato in «Noms mythiqucs indo-iraniens dans le folklore des
Osses», JA, CCXLIV, 1957, pp. 349-352. § 15. Aspects..., pp. 9, 70,
80. § 16. JMQ IV, p. 56. § 17. «Pàndava-sagan...», p.
36; JMQ IV, pp. 59+60, 67-68. § 18. Pandu come trasposizione di
Vanina, vedi JMQ, IV, pp. 77-80. La trasposizione di un mito vedico
(duello di Indra c del Sole, la ruota del carro del Sole «infossata») è
stata riconosciuta nel racconto della morte di Karna, fratello uterino e
nemico dei Pàndava, figlio del Sole come essi lo sono degli dèi delle tre
funzioni: «Karna et Ics Pàndava», Orientalia Suecana, III ( =Do- num
natal. H.S. Nyberg), 1954, pp. 60-66. Una trasposizione (dei passi di
Visnu al servizio di Indra) è segnalata in «Les pas de Krsna et l’exploit
d’Arjuna», Orientalia Suecana, V, 1956, pp. 183-188; e altri due (i
sovrani minori Aryaman e Bhaga, trasposti in Vidura c Dhrlaràstra) in una
conferen¬ za fatta all’Università di Copenhagen nel nov. 1956, pubblicala
quest’anno nell’ Inclo-1 ninian Journal («La transposilion des dieux
souverains dans le Mahàbhàrata»), Il personaggio di Bhlsma sarà
ulteriormente studiato nella stessa prospettiva. § 19. Le
leggende romane sugli inizi della Repubblica presentano due croi che
ricordano, per la forma e il senso delle mulilazioni, il dio cieco monco
della mitologia scandinava, cioè i due dèi sovrani Ódinn e Tyr: questi
sono Orazio Coclite («il Ciclope») c Muzio Scevola («il Mancino»), i due
salvatori di Roma nella guerra contro Porsenna; la comparazione è stata
sviluppata in MV cap. IX e ripresa diverse volle, specialmente ne
L’heritage..., pp. 159-169 c Loki, 1948, pp. 91-97. Sui primi redi Roma
vedi il riassunto degli studi anteriori in L’heritage..., pp. 143-159; un
notevole «ritocco» parallelo al «ritocco» zoroastriano degli dèi
trasporti in Entità della tradizione romana nel De Republica di Cicerone,
è stato studiato in «Les archanges de Zoroastrc et Ics rois romains de
Ciceron», JP, XLIII, 1950, pp. 449-463. 119 §
20. Su Romolo e Numa vedi MV, cap. II; L’héritane..., pp. 146-154.
§21. Horate et les Curiaces, 1943, pp. 79-88; L ’héritage..., pp.
154-156. § 22. Aspetta ..., pp. 15-61: «La geste deTullus Hostilius
et les mythes de Indra»; cf. pp. 3-14 dello stesso libro, studio
dell’Indra vedico come «solita¬ rio» a dispetto dei suoi associati ( ekci
-) e come «autonomo» (sva-). La biblio¬ grafia degli studi comparativi
sullasecondafunzioneèdatain DIE, pp. 38-39 e completala in Aspetta..., p.
1. § 24. Sui gemelli Romolo e Remo come corrispondenti ai gemelli
Nàsa- tya indo-iranici, vedi G. WlDENGREN, «Harlekintracht...»,
Orientalia Sueca- na , II, 1953, pp. 96-97; Aspetta..., pp. 20-21. Non ho
ancora pubblicato su questa interpretazione dei gemelli romani il libro
preparato nel 1951-1952; è comparso solo un frammento: «Le turtus equos
de la fète de Pales et la muti- lationde lajument ViSpala», Ercinos, LIV
(=G. Bjiirck meni. Saturni), 1956, pp. 232-245. Altre corrispondenze tra
dèi ed eroi gemelli dei diversi popoli indoeuropei sono state segnalale
in La saga de Hadinf>us, 1953, pp. 114-130, 151-154.1 Dioscuri greci
sono solo parzialmente comparabili. Sembra che altri aspetti della terza
funzione (massa popolare; sviluppo della ricchezza e del commercio;
piacere) abbiano ispirato i racconti sul quarto re di Roma, Anco Marzio,
successore del guerriero Tulio; vedi Tarpeia, III («Jactanlior Ancus») e
la discussione con J. Bayet in JMQ IV, pp. 185-186 (dove impor¬ tanti
questioni di metodo sono toccate). § 26. DIVINITÀ: sugli «dèi
iniziali», vedi «De Janus à Vesta», Tarpeia, pp. 31-113 (=JMQ it., pp.
287-353), DIE, pp. 84-105; in Rituels..., pp. 33-39, sono state rilevate
delle concordanze tra il culto di Vesta c imiti vedici di Vi- vasvat; in
Déesses latines et mythes védiques, 1956, dei dati indiani hanno
chiarificaio e giustificaio le rappresentazioni di Maler Maluta (cf. Usas;
vedi anche RENOU, Études védiques et pcuiinéennes, III, 1957, 1: Les
Hymnes à l'Aurore du Riveda, pp. 1-104, specialmente pp. 8-9,10, 65), della
silenziosa Diva Angerona, dea degli angusti dies del solstizio d’inverno
(cf. Atri opero¬ sa con la preghiera silenziosa nella crisi del sole),
della Fortuna Primigenia prenestina, madre e figlia di Jupiter (cf.
Aditi, madre e figlia del sovrano Daksa), di Lua Mater (cf. Nirrti).
RITUALI in «Suouetaurilia», Tarpeia, pp. 115-158 (= JMQ it., pp. 355-388)
si è stabilito lo stretto parallelismo di que¬ sto sacrifico triplice,
offerto a Marte, con la sautrànicuiT indiana (sacrificio di un loro, di un
montone c di un capro a Indra «Buon Protettore»); in Rituels in-
doeuropéeus à Rome (oltre a qui sopra, I, § 21), i Fordicidia sono stali
resi chiari, nei dettagli dei riti, dal sacrificio vedico della «Vacca
dagli otto pie¬ di»; l’opposizione del santuario rotondo di Vesta c di
templi quadrati, orien¬ tali, è stala riavvicinata all’opposizione tra il
fuoco rotondo (di riserva e di accensione, «fuoco del padrone di casa»,
attaccalo alla terra) e il fuoco qua¬ drato (che dirige verso gli dèi le
offerte degli uomini) sull’ara sacrificale ve- dica; i rapporti rituali
degli equidi, c in special modo del cavallo, con ciascuno dei tre livelli
funzionali, sono stati riconosciuti come idèntici sia a Roma che
nell’India vedica; in «Quacstiunculac indo-italicac, 1-3» (da pub¬
blicarsi in REL, XXXVI, 1958) il tulmen inane fabae della fumigazione dei
120 Parilia, i pisciculi vivi gettati nel fuoco
durante i Volcanalia e la prescrizione bigarum victricum clexterior del
Cavallo di Ottobre sono chiarificati dai dati vedici. SACERDOZIO (oltre a
qui sopra, nota a I, § 1, per Jlamen-brahman ): «Meretrices et virgines
dans quelques légendes politiquesde Rome et des pe- uples celtiques»,
Ogcnn, VI, 1954, pp. 3-8; «Remarques sur le ius feriale », REL, XXXIV,
1956, pp. 93-111; REL, XXXV, 1957, pp. 126-151, contiene uno studio su
augur, inaugurare, augustus. NOZIONI: «A propos de latin ius». RHR,
CXXXIV, 1947-48, pp. 95-112; «Ordre, fantasie, changemente dan les
pensées archaiques de l’Inde et de Rome, à propos de latin mos», REL,
XXXII, 1954, pp. 139-160; in «Maiestas elgravitas, de quelques diffé-
rences entre les Romains et les Austronésiens», RP, XXVI, 1952, pp. 7-28
e XXVIII, 1954, pp. 9-18; queste sono invece due nozioni prettamente
romane che sono state analizzate contro la scuola primitivista; su
gratus, gratin emi¬ nentemente spiegate con un usovedico della
radicegurC^V, Vili, 70,5), vedi L.R. PALMER, «The Concept of Social
Obligation in Indo-European», Coll. Latomus, XXIII ( =Homm. M. Niedennann),
1956, pp. 258-269. E. BENVENI- STE ha delucidato comparativamente un gran
numero di nozioni religiose e sociali, vedi in special modo «Symbolisme
social dans les cultes gré- co-italiques» RHR, CXXIX, 1945, pp. 5-16
(vedi una conferma di un dato importante nel mio Rituels...)', «Don et
échange dans le vocabulaire in- do-éuropéen», L'Année Sociologique, 1951,
pp. 7-20 e «Formes et sens de pvaopai», Sprachgeschichte uncl
Wortbedeutung (= Festschr. A. Debrun¬ ner), 1954, pp. 13-18.
Storia degli Studi e bibliografìa Dopo lo scacco del saggio
intelligente ma prematuro fatto dalla scuola di Adalbert Kuhn (1812-1881)
c di Friederich Max Miiller ( 1823-1900) teso a ricostruire la mitologia
comune degli Indoeuropei, l’impresa fu per un certo tempo dichiarata illusoria.
Daunaparte, sotto l’influenza di Wilhelm Mannhardt (1831-1880), gli studi
si spostaro¬ no sui rituali e le credenze agricole, popolari, di un tipo
abbastanza uniforme per tutta l’Europa e ci si applicò a ridurvi, senza
pretendere di stabilire filiazioni né parentele particolari, un gran
numero di culti e miti delle diverse religioni e in special modo quelle
dei popoli classici. Da un’altra parte, per effetto della crescente
settorializzazione delle specialità, gli studiosi dei diversi domini,
indiano, greco, latino, ger¬ manico, etc., rifiutando ogni considerazione
comparativa, costruirono per spiegare la genesi e lo sviluppo delle
religioni da loro studiate delle ipotesi che presero sovente per dati di
fatto e che non si accordavano che per un punto: la riduzione a poche
cose, per non dire a niente, dell’eredità conservata dal passato comune
indoeuropeo. Rari autori continuavano a parlare di «religione
indoeuropea» come ad esempio A. CARNOY, Les Indoeuropéens (1921) p.
154-240. Tuttavia nel secondo quarto di questo secolo si produssero
delle reazioni. In Germania bisogna citare prima di tutto: H. GUNTERT,
Der Arische Weltkonig und Heiland (1923); R. OTTO, Gotlheit und
Got- theilen derArier (1932); F. CORNELIUS, Indogermanische
Religion- sgeschichte ( 1942) e tutta la serie, che prosegue
brillantemente, degli articoli c dei libri di F.R. Schroder.
A partire dal 1924 e nel corso di dodici anni io stesso ho fatto un
primo sforzo di revisione della «mitologia comparata», ma con dei
123 mezzi filologici insufficienti e rimanendo prigioniero,
per la spiega¬ zione, delle concezioni mannhardtiane e frazeriane {Le
Festin d'Im- morIalite 1924, Le crime des Lemniennes 1924 e qualche
articolo di cui non vi sono grandi cose da ritenere; il Leproblème des
Centaures, 1929 e Flamen-Brahman, 1935, i cui frammenti rimangono
utilizzabi¬ li). Non è che a partire dal 1938 che, inizialmente solo e
poi, dopo il 1945, raggiunto e spesso superato da altri ricercatori,
spero di essere riuscito a delineare dei tratti importanti della
struttura dell’eredità in¬ doeuropea comune, in una coscienza più chiara
delle condizioni c dei mezzi deH’inchiesta. Quest’inchiesta non si
riporta ad alcun sistema preconcetto di spiegazione, ma utilizza gli
insegnamenti della socio¬ logia e dell’etnografia, come pure il ricorso
all’analisi linguistica dei concetti. Essa ha due postulati:
ammette che tutto il sistema teologico e mitologico significa qualcosa,
aiuta la società che lo pratica a com¬ prendersi, ad accettarsi, ad
essere fiera del suo passato, confidante nel presente e nell’avvenire;
ammette anche che la comunità di lingua, presso gli Indoeuropei, implica
una misura sostanziale dell’ideologia comune alla quale deve essere possibile
accedere grazie a una varietà adeguata del metodo comparativo.
Una circostanza, sulla quale un articolo di J. Vcndryes aveva at¬
tirato l’attenzione sin dal 1918, ha dato il via all 'inizio di molte
ricer¬ che: il vocabolario religioso degli Indo-Iranici da una palle c
quello dei Celti e degli Italioti dall’altra presentano un gran numero di
con¬ cordanze precise e che sono loro proprie. Un articolo-programma
del 1938 «La préhistoire des flamines majeurs», RHR, CVIII, pp.
1 88-200 ha dimostrato che questa parentela prossima non si riduce
al vocabolario ma si estende alla struttura della religione. E dal 1938,
in ogni tipo di materia, è in effetti la comparazione dei dati vedici o
in¬ do-iranici e dei dati romani che ha fornito i primi risultati precisi
sui quali è stato possibile fondare delle comparazione più vaste.
Così illuminati, i fatti germanici (benché il vocabolario religio¬
so sia interamente differente) si sono ben presto rivelati anch’essi no¬
tevolmente fedeli al passato indoeuropeo. Benché conformandosi ai
grandi quadri indoeuropei, il domi¬ nio celtico pone ancora, in seguito
allo stato della documentazione, un gran numero di problemi irrisolti. La
Grecia - per effetto senza dubbio 124 del
«miracolo greco» e anche perché le più antiche civiltà del Mare Egeo
hanno troppo fortemente segnato gli invasori venuti dal Nord -
contribuisce poco allo studio comparativo: anche i tratti più conside¬
revoli dell’eredità sono stati profondamente modificati. Quanto agli
altri popoli del mondo indoeuropeo, in special modo i Baiti e gli Slavi,
non si è ancora riusciti a utilizzarli pienamente. 1 principali lavori in
cui è stata progressivamente analizzata l’ideologia tripartita degli
Indoeuropei che il presente libro espone sono i seguenti': Mythes
etdieuxdes Gennains, essaid’interprétation compara¬ tive 1939 (citato
MDG) Mitra-Vurunu, essai sur deux représentations
indoeuropéen- nes de la souveraineté 1940, II ed. 1948 (citato MV)
Jupiter Mars Quirimis, essai sur laconception indoeuropéenne de la
société et sur Ics origines de Rome, 1941 (citato JMQ) Naissance de Rome
(=JMQ II) 1944 (citato NR) Naissance d'Archanges, essai sur la
formation de la théologie zoroastrienne (=JMQ III), 1945 (citato
NA) Jupiter Mars Quirinus IV, 1948 (citato JMQ IV) L
’heritage indoeuropèe !? à Rome, introduction aux séries «JMQ» et «Mythes
Romains», 1949 Le troisième Souverain, essai sur le dieu Aryaman,
1949 Les dieux des Indoeuropéens, 1952 (citato DIE) Rituels
Indoeuropéens à Rome, 1954 Aspects de lafonction guerrière chez les
Indoeuropéens, 1956 Déesses latine set mythes védiques. Coll. Latomus,
XXV, 1956 Una traduzione italiana di una versione migliorata in
diverse parti di JMQ e di NR e di frammenti di Tarpeia (1947) e di JMQ
IV, è stata pubbl icata nel 1955 a Torino sotto il titolo di Jupiter Mars
Quiri- I Attualmente sto preparando un rimaneggiamento unitario di
JMQ. NR. NA ehc sarà pubblicalo, come questi tre libri, presso Gallimard.
Aspettando, l’edizione italiana dei primi due Corniscc un’idea delle
correzioni giudicale necessarie: le parli che non sono state tradotte
sono da eliminare. 125 ìtus (citato JMQ it.) 2
. Delle questioni di metodo, che io qui non affron¬ to, si trovano
discusse nelle prefazioni della maggior parte di questi li¬ bri e, più
sistematicamente, nel primo capitolo de L’heritage ... («Materia, oggetto
e metodi di studio»). 2 AUre abbreviazioni: AV= Atharvaveda; BGDSL
= Beitrage zur Geschichte der Deutschen Sprache und Literatur: FFC =
Folklore Fellows Communications; J A = Journal Asiati que; JAOS = Journal
of thè American Orientai Society; JP = Journal de Psichologie: NC = la
Nouvelle Clio; REL = Revtte des Etudes Lalines; RHA = Revtte Hittite et
Asianique; RHR = Revtte de l ’Histoire des Religions; RV = Riveda; RP =
Revtte de Philologie. RSR = Recherches de Science Religieuse; SBE =
Sacred Books of thè East; SMSR = Studi e Materiali di Storia delle
Religioni ; TPS = Transaction of thè Philological Society; ZCP = ZeitschriJ't
fìir Celti sche Philologie; ZDMG = Zeitschrift der Deutschen
Morgenlàndischen Gesellschafl. 126
Appendice Aryaman e Paul Thieme Mentre correggo
le seconde bozze di questo libro (maggio 1958) è uscito quello di Paul
Thieme annunciato qui sopra (nota al cap. Ili § 5), ma egli non risponde
affatto alle ingenue speranze che esprimevo. Cito dunque qui (I e II) due
estratti dell’articolo del JA, concernenti Aryaman e il metodo di Thieme,
menzionato nello stesso paragrafo e vi aggiungo (III) qualche riflessione
provvisoria su Mitra and Aryaman. Per non creare confusione lascio alle
note di I e II i nu¬ meri che avranno nel JA. Abbreviazioni: F. = P.
Thieme, Der Frem- dling im Rig Feda, 1938; S = il mio Troisième
Sauveraine, 1949; Z = P. Thieme, Ari, «Fremder», ZDMG, 117, 1957. pp.
96-104. I Ma è soprattutto nei confronti del dio
vedico, e prima ancora in¬ do-iranico, Aryaman, che il saggio di Thieme
rivela la sua debolezza. In virtù dell’ipotesi {ari = «lo straniero»,
qualunque sia) c del senso che ne risulta per aryó («l’ospitale»),
Aryaman non può essere che il «dio dell’ospitalità)). È così?
E ancora, sarebbe necessario che negli inni o nei rituali questa
definizione si verificasse sul suo centro, intendo dire, in occasione del
ricevimento di un ospite designato come tale. Ora, non soltanto non vi è
un testo rgvedico che riunisca il nome dell’ospite, àtithi e quello di
127 Aryaman, ma, salvo ignoranza da parte mia,
Aryaman non è né invo¬ cato né menzionato ritualmente all’arrivo di un
visitatore. Non biso¬ gna concludere un’assenza dal silenzio: è tuttavia
curioso, se il concet¬ to di ospitalità è stato sentito tanto importante
da essere personificato in uno dei due dèi sovrani, e nel più
considerevole dopo Varuna e Mi¬ tra, che questa origine non abbia avuto
nessuna occasione per espri¬ mersi chiaramente. Mitra, il contratto
personificato, è certo come dio molto più del contratto, ma si trovano
dei testi in cui questo legame è manifestato e sottolineato con delle
parole senza ambiguità. Inversamente, l’Aryaman vedico e il suo
corrispondente avesti- co Airyaman, intervengono in circostanze che,
salvo violenza, sono irriducibili all’ospitalità. Ne ricorderò solo due.
Prima di Thieme molti vedisti avevano notato, con delle con¬
clusioni talvolta eccessive o errate, i rapporti tra Aryaman e il matri¬
monio. 1 testi allegati sono abbastanza numerosi". Per piegarli alla
sua tesi, Thieme è stato indotto a far loro subire dei trattamenti poco
racco¬ mandabili. In tutto il dossier vedico vi sono dei documenti più
chiari e più netti, altri più oscuri o più indeterminati. Il metodo
ordinario è d’informarsi all’inizio sui primi e con questi chiarificare o
precisare in seguito i secondi. Per il caso di Aryaman si ha, chiara e
netta in A V, 1, 60, la formula destinata a procurare un coniuge, la
descrizione che fa di Aryaman la prima strofa: tiyùm Ci ycity
arycimà pura staci visitastupah asyci icchcinn agruvai pettini utd
jàyàm ajànuye «Ecco arrivare Aryaman con i riccioli sciolti,
cercando per questa fanciulla un marito e una moglie per chi non è
sposato». Non meno esplicito vi è in/l V, XIV, 1, inno rituale del
matrimo¬ nio, la strofa 17 che riguarda la giovane donna:
aryamdnam yajcimahe subanclhum pativédanam urvàrukcim iva
bàndhanàt prétó muncumi nàmùtah 11 I lesti sono riuniti in A.
HlLLKBRKNDT, Vedische Mytalogie, II 2 ,1927, pp. 74-76, seguiti da
un'interpretazione di Aryaman come «Feier», sicuramente errata. «Noi sacrifichiamo
ad Aryaman (il dio) delle buone alleanze, il trovatore dei mariti. Come
unazuccadalsuo legame io ti libero da qui (= dalla tua casa di ragazza),
non da laggiù (= dalla casa coniugale)». V icino a questi testi ve
ne sono altri che riguardano ancora siala «ricerca della sposa» che
diversi episodi precisi del rituale delle noz¬ ze, nei quali Aryaman
interviene sempre, ma associato ad altri dèi e di conseguenza con un
ruolo non immediatamente identificabile. Ciò che in questi casi incerti
può orientare l’interpretazione è evidente¬ mente la descrizione e la
definizione che su di lui hanno dato i testi espliciti del dossier: egli
cerca da ambedue le parti gli elementi delle coppie coniugali e fa delle
buone alleanze matrimoniali. Thieme procede all’ inverso
cominciando dalla seconda cate¬ goria di documenti. Consacra cinque
pagine per citarli in esteso e per tradurli inserendo tra parentesi, a
favore della loro indeterminazione, la sua concezione di Aryaman («die
Gastlichkeit», «der Gott der Ga- stlichkeit», «der Gott gastlicher
Aufnahme») e in seguito, in dieci ri¬ ghe che conclude allusivamente,
pretende che ciò che dice sui testi meno determinati permetta-infine! -
di ridurre alla loro «vera» porta¬ ta questi testi la cui precisione lo
imbarazza 13 : «Von hier aus wirdes nun erst mòglich, die Verse A
V. 6.60. 1, 14.1.17, Mp. 1.5.7, die H1LLEBRANDTan die Spitze seiner
Untersu- chungdes Verhàltnisses zwischen Aryaman und E he gestellt hat,
in ih- rer wahren Bedeutungen zu wùrdigen. Als einer der Genien des
Hau- shalts, der auch bei der Eheschliessung mitwirkt, wird Aryaman
als «Gattenfìnder» (A V. 14, 1.17) und Ehevermittler (A V. 6.60.1)
schlechthin in Zauberspriichen genannt, die anscheinend durch die
Erwàhnung eines so vornehmen Gottes, der im R Vin der Gesellschaft des
Mitra und Varuna aufzutreten pflegt, wirken wollten.» Al di fuori
dello stesso procedimento che consiste nel masche¬ rare ciò che è chiaro
con ciò che non lo è, tutto nell’ultima frase è ten¬ denzioso: questi
Zauberspriichen, uno dei quali appartiene al rituale del matrimonio, non
meritano alcun disprezzo c sono sicuramente 12 F„ §§ 118-124; S.
pp. 73-79. 13 F„ § 124. adatti a chiarire la funzione del dio
che essi mobilitano. Pretendere che Aryaman non vi figuri in qual ità, ma
semplicemente perché è un « gran nome» della mitologia, è una spiegazione
che generalizzata permette¬ rebbe all’esegeta di sopprimere in ogni
maniera le testimonianze im¬ barazzanti. Infine, la definizione di
Aryaman come «einer derGenien des Haushalts», è stata utilizzata, pefitio
principii, usando la libertà fornita dai testi meno determinati. Bisogna
aggiungere che alcuni di questi testi resistono al senso che si vuole
loro dare. Quando Aryaman ad esempio è pregato, ancora in un inno di
matrimonio, «di ungere (forse la novella sposa) fino alla vecchiaia» (o
«affinché ella non in¬ vecchi»)' 4 , Thieme, ricordando che «in ogni
paese del mezzogiorno» 15 il bagno di ospitalità comporta un’unzione
d’olio, traduce intrepida¬ mente: «Mòge Aryaman (als der Gotigastlicher
Aufnahme) [Dich= die Braut ] inir der Ólsalbung schmiicken; auf dass du
nicht altseist ( = inJugendschònheitglànzest)». Le giustificazioni di
questa traduzione sono leggere: suppone un aspetto non attestato del
rituale d’ospitalità e il dativo d’intenzione àjarasàya è volto in un
senso inattendibile; come si può mai dire alla giovane sposa: « Che il
dio dell 'ospitalità ti unga con olio affinché tu non abbia l'aria
invecchiata »? Viceversa se si vede in Aryaman il protettore del rapporto
che si forma, è naturale che egli sia pregato di garantire alla sposa
lunga vita o vigorosa vec¬ chiaia. E non è tutto. Thieme
assimila costantemente l’ospitalità e il matrimonio, l’accoglienza che
riceve l’ospite e quella che riceve la fi¬ danzata. Ora, le due cose sono
differenti: a dispetto del riferimento a Mrs. Stevenson 16 , l’atto della
donna che entra in casa di suo marito per rimanervi, può identificarsi,
nei riti, con l’atto del visitatore che dopo essere entrato straniero se
ne andrà, benché incaricato del dovere di contraccambiare, ma sempre
straniero? L’accoglienza fatta alla futura madre può forse essere più
ospitale, nello spirito e nei riti, delle ceri- 14 RV, X, 85,
43: a nati prajath janayatu prujàpatir àjarasàya sùm
anaktv aryamù... Geldner: «Pràjapati soli uns Kinder erzeugen, bis
zurhohcn Alicr soli nns Arya¬ man verschinelzcn». 15
Nell'India vedica? 16 F., p. 125, n. 1. 130
monie che in seguito legalizzeranno il neonato come membro
della stessa famiglia? Se bisognasse avvicinare ad altre cose questa
proce¬ dura sui generis del matrimonio, non si dovrebbe pensare
piuttosto all’adozione che all’ospitalità? Le nostre parole
«accoglienza, Aufnahme», creano un’ambi¬ guità che senza dubbio un Indiano,
non più di un Romano, non rischia¬ va di sentire vivamente. Io resisto
particolarmente all’interpretazione datadaThiemead AV, 14,1,39-sempre
riguardo il rituale nuziale 17 : aryamnó agnini pàryetu pùsan [var.
ksiprdm] prdtiksante svasuro devaras cu. «Sie
umschreite das Feuer des Aryaman (der Gastlichkeit), o Pùsan'*, es sehen
entgegen Schwàher und Schwager.» Sono certamente meno ben informato
di Thieme sui rituali ve¬ dici: quando un ospite entrava in una casa gli
si faceva fare anche que¬ sta circumambulazione del focolare, che trova
il suo esatto corrispon¬ dente, come molti altri tratti, nel matrimonio
romano (dove ha valore di rito d’incorporazione) e non nell’ospitalità
romana? Se è così m ’ inchino. Altrimenti, messa in luce dai testi
precisi sul ruolo di Arya- 17 F„ § 122. 18 Piuttosto,
secondo la variante «schnell». In S., p. 78, vi è una cantonata nella
tra¬ duzione che dopo dieci anni non so ancora se la devo attribuire a
un’ inavvertenza del mio manoscritto o delle mie correzioni delle bozze:
,f vósuro devàsra.ica è reso con «i suoceri e i cognati» invece de «i7
suocero c i cognati» il plurale della secon¬ da parola avendo determinato
meccanicamente, da me o dal tipografo, il plurale della prima. Questo testoche
sotto la protezione di Aryaman f a intervenire dopo la giovane sposa il
padree i fratelli dello sposo, prova che nel matrimonio Aryaman si
interessa a ben di piti che l'unione tra due esseri: l’intera famiglia è
interessata da questo nuovo membro che le procura un’alleanza con
un’altra famiglia (cf. Aryaman qualificato suhandhù, alla strofa 17 dello
stesso inno). Alla pagina 119 di S. ho commesso una svista più umiliante
ma senza conseguenze per i miei pro¬ positi, considerando svasurah di RV,
X, 28, 1 come padre della moglie (possibile nel sanscrito classico ma non
nel vedico) emettendo la strofa in bocca al marito. E l’inverso. La
moglie parla e si sorprende che il padre di suo marito non sia venuto al
festino preparalo, mentre vi.ivo... anyó arlh «ogni altro ari, tutto il
resto dell'insieme ari » (e non facendo sparire la parola essenziale
«altro», « jederunde- re, niimlichjeder ari», Thieme) è pervenuto. Il
commento che ho fatto di questo testo, per i rapporti di ari e di
.ivù.iurah, sussiste interamente a condizione che si rimpiazzi «genero»
con «nuora» (e co.si « prendere moglie» con « prendere mari¬ to » e «ha
scelto la jigliadel suocero» con «è stato scelto dai figli del suocero»).
man nel matrimonio, l’espressione «fuoco di Aryaman» per designare
eccezionalmente qui il focolare intorno al quale si forma il legame mi
sembrerebbe fare semplicemente riferimento a questo ruolo. Sono queste le
principali ragioni per le quali non mi è possibile dedurre il ruolo di
Aryaman nel matrimonio a partire dalla definizione che esige l’ipotesi di
Thieme. L’Airyaman avestico è invocato ( Yasna 54, 1) per
sostenere «gli uomini e le donne di Zoroaslro» e il Buon Pensiero; è
detto dotato di forza offensiva, distruttore di ogni resistenza,
vincitore dei nemici (ibid. , 2); la preghiera che è invocata dopo di lui
è onnipotente e guari¬ trice (Yast III, 5); Aryaman stesso è l’eroe di
una scena mitica in cui questa preoccupazione di guarigione è al primo
posto: quando Angra Mainyu creò, contro la creazione di Ahura Mazda, le
99.999 malattie, il gran dio dopo uno scacco subito da ManGra Spanta (la
«Formula Efficace»: l’agente della maggiore delle tre forme di medicina)
si av¬ vicinò ad Aryaman che subito riuni gli clementi di quella che
doveva divenire in seguito una delle purificazioni rituali del mazdeismo
19 . Come derivare questi uffici dall’idea di ospitalità? Thieme non
tenta la scommessa ma lascia intendere che tutto questo è
un’innovazione, un uso fuori dal dominio di un dio sentito come
importante: «Man hai also von Airyaman dhnlichen Gebrauch gemacht wie der
AV von A/yaman», dice lui facendo allusione alla fine del § 124 che ho
cita¬ to 20 Temo che questa sia una maniera troppo rapida per eliminare
un elemento preciso del dossier. La stessa cosa avviene per altri aspetti
di Aryaman e per i suoi rapporti con le strade, ad esempio,
strumento utile di comunicazione sociale 21 : ci si riferisca all’analisi
del mio Troi- sième Souverain. Ciò che precede è sufficiente per far capire
che Aryaman è fondamentalmente più di un dio dell’ospitalità.
Infatti nell’ ospitalità senza dubbio, ma anche nella conclusione dei
matrimo¬ ni, l’Aryaman vedico patrocina i rapporti sociali all’interno di
un gruppo di uomini in cui bisogna che non solo l’ospitalità ma anche
il matrimonio siano possibili. 19 F. § 126-128; S„
81-83. 20 V. qui sopra n. 13. 21 S., p. 141-149. Per il
trattamento insufficiente di altri aspetti di Aryaman in F., vedi S., p.
137-139. 132 L’Airyaman iranico protegge in una
maniera più ampia e fino alla sanità l’insieme di uomini e donne della
«buona società», definita dopo la riforma zoroastriana solamente in base
alla religione e non alla nazionalità. Bisogna dunque che il
concetto di arya - nel nome di Aryaman sia altra cosa rispetto a quello
detto da Thieme: minore in estensione, poiché il matrimonio non è
possibile con alcun ospite, ma più ricco in comprensione, poiché oltre
all’ospitalità comporta altre forme di lega¬ mi e in special modo l’attitudine
a contrarre il matrimonio. Si è così costretti a introdurre in questo
arya-e quindi in ari, un valore di nazio¬ nalità. II
Se il valore limitato e orientato di ari che io ho proposto [in S
p. 113-127] (Icariano», collettivamente o genericamente), rende conto
di tutti i derivati e si adatta senza difficoltà a tutti i passaggi ai quali
si adattava il valore generale («der Fremde, der Fremdling») di
Thieme, rende inoltre conto di un testo che resisteva a quest’ultimo. Il
dossier di ari contiene in effetti almeno un testo che direttamente
impone una traduzione limitata e mi sorprende che Thieme non l’abbia
riconside¬ rato nella difesa che mi oppone. Questo è RV, IX, 79, 3:
uta svàsyd ardtyd arir hi sa utdnydsyd ardtyd vrko hi
sah La costruzione e il senso sono limpidi:
«[Proteggici] dalla nocivitàpropria:poiché è l’ari.
[Proteggici] dalla nocività aliena: poiché è il lupo.» Questi
versi simmetrici presentano, distribuiti in due rapporti equivalenti,
quattro termini, tre dei quali sono conosciuti e forniscono di
conseguenza un’eccellente equazione per determinare l’incognita, ari : vi
è l’opposizione usuale tra svàeanyà, il primo designa ciò che è proprio,
imparentato o alleato, mentre il secondo ciò che è altro, este¬ riore,
straniero; vi è anche l’opposizione tra an e vrka, in cui vrka designa l’uomo
che merita di essere chiamato lupo poiché il suo comporta¬ mento è
selvatico. Così ariè. precisato negativamente come un tipo di nemico
distinto da questo nemico selvaggio ed esterno che è posto al di fuori
del gruppo i cui membri sono degli svà\ positivamente ari è definito come
intemo a questo gruppo. La traduzione e il commentario fatto da Thieme a
questo passaggio devono essere citati per intero 12 : «/ Schutze]
vor eigener, voranderer (i.e. vorjeglicher) arati; sie (oder: das, was
die arati ist) istjaderFremdling (der den Frieden be- droht), sie istja
der Wolf... ». Ich habe in der Ubersetzung vonab au/Nachahmung der
Spre- izstellung der Satzglieder verzichtet. Dies e kannja sehr wohl
nurstili- stischer Art sein. Ich willjedochdie Mòglichkeit nicht in
Abrede stel- len, dass wir zu sagen hdtten: «vor eigener arati- sie ist
ja ein Fremdling (der ins Haus aufgenommen den Frieden bricht), vor
an- derer drdti-sie istja ein Wolf». La prima
interpretazione, quella che l’autore preferisce poiché sopprime le
difficoltà, fa una violenza inammissibile all’ordine e al rapporto delle
parole: mantiene come tale una delle due opposizioni equivalenti ma
sopprime l’altra volgendola in solidarietà; riducear/e vrka a un’unità
(non essendo vrka che un rinforzo del «cattivo» ari) di cui svà e anyà
sarebbero lesuddivisioni. La filologia non hatali diritti. La
seconda interpretazione orienta l'opposizione tra svà e anyà in un senso
che non è il suo: svà non si applica a ciò che è presso me temporalmente
e accidentalmente senza essere a me, ma segna un le¬ game permanente ed
essenziale con me. In più, questa traduzione sup¬ pone, dalla parte
àeW'ari nemico, un comportamento speciale, quello dell’ospite che una
volta ricevuto in casa si comporta male e « minaccia la pace » come dice
Thieme. Certo, l’ospitalità ha i suoi rischi ma questi rischi si
realizzano raramente e in ogni modo nessun testo del RV vi fa allusione:
sarebbe molto strano che fossero qui l’oggetto di una preghiera e che, in
questa preghiera, fossero messi sullo stesso 32 P. 27, già II,
1956, p. 109. Se, come io penso, ari ha già il valore etnico («ariano»),
si concepiscono gli impieghi elogiativi, sottolineati da Renou, che vanno nella
di¬ rezione «élite», «capo», etc. 134
piano, in contrapposizione, i rischi costanti che fa correre il vrka
bar¬ baro e brigante. Questo testo è dunque decisivo contro
il senso troppo esteso di ari e impone un senso ristretto. Nei suoi
Etudes védiques et pàninéen- nes. III (1957), L. Renou mi sembra abbia
ben riassunto l’insegna¬ mento del testo nella formula: «.vrka il nemico
straniero, ari il nemico interno». Questo delimita ari, sia il buono che
il cattivo: amico, ospite, sposabile, correligionario, rivale, nemico,
Vari porta alla considera¬ zione di chi lo menziona, la nota svà, che
esclude la nota anyà n . Ili Mitra and Aryaman è in
gran parte un pamphlet contro di me: fornisco perfino il titolo di un
capitolo. Mi limiterò qui ad alcune os¬ servazioni che faranno vedere a
quale livello si situa il dibattito. Prima di entrare nella
materia, e per togliere ogni credito ai miei argomenti, Thieme incomincia
a dimostrare, secondo tre punti, che io commetto molteplici e grossolani
errori di grammatica utilizzando gli inni vedici. Lo credo volentieri, ma
vediamo che cosa mi rimprovera (pp. 12-16): a) Io
tratto dei duali come dei plurali. Si tratta di due testi in cui si
incontra la sequenza, del resto frequente, dei tre principali dèi sovra¬
ni, Varuria, Mitra e Aryaman e dove, a causa di un verbo o un aggettivo
che sono appunto al duale, Thieme vuole fondere Mitra e Aryaman in un
solo personaggio mitico che chiama «Freund, Gasljreund» (nel 1938) e che
ora preferisce chiamare «The contract (God Contract) which is hospitality
(God Hospitality )». È nel riconoscere questo mo¬ stro, di cui non vi
sono altre tracce nella letteratura vedica, che mi sono rifiutato, nel
1949 (S., pp. 42-47). Non ho cambiato parere: è inverosi- 33
Questa definizione di art come sva basterebbe (vi sono altre ragioni) per fare
scar¬ tare il paragone etimologico con diana (l'opposto di svà) che è
stato portato in ap¬ poggio alla tesi di Thieme da F. Spechi, «Zur Bedeutung
des Ariernamens», KZ, 68, 1941, pp. 42-52. D’altra parte, il fatto che
RV, VI, 15,3 invita Agni ad essere ùryi'ih pùrasyàntarasya lùrusah, «il
vincitore dell'un lontano e vicino» dimostra che lo svà di IX, 79, 3 non
deve essere compreso in un senso stretto né senza dub¬ bio locale. Il
concetto di nazionalità suggerito dai derivati soddisfa la doppia con¬
dizione: Vari per «un» ariano è sia svà che para. 135
mile che in questi due soli passaggi la triade ceda il posto a una
coppia «Varuna e Varyamàn Mitra» o a «Varuna e il mitra Aryaman».
Uno di questi testi è RV, V, 67, 1: varuna mitrdryaman vdrsistham
ksatrdm àsiithe, «o Varuna, Mitra e Ai'yaman, voi avete ot¬ tenuto la più
alta sovranità». Perché si dice che il verbo è al duale? Il poeta vuole
sottolineare la stretta affinità di Mitra e Aryaman (che è fondamentale
come spesso ho detto) nei confronti di Varuna, di modo che si debba
tradurre «o Varuna, o Mitra e Aryaman»? Non lo so, ma la soluzione meno
accettabile è di fondere in un solo essere Mitra e Aryaman, poiché la
strofa 3 dello stesso inno enumera nuovamente i tre dèi al nominativo e
questa volta con due aggettivi e due verbi che sono correttamente al
plurale. Noto che K. Geldner comprende come me: «ihr habt die hòchste
Herrschaft erreicht, Varuna, Mitra, A rya- man» - i tre vocativi essendo
esattamente paralleli, come Thieme mi rimprovera di avere detto.
L'altro testo è RV, Vili, 26, 11 : vaiyasvdsya srutam narotó me
asya vedathah/sajósasd varuna mitrò aryamd. La prima parte non è ambigua:
«Ascoltate, o voi due eroi (= gli Asvin) [la parola] di Vai- yasva e
conoscete questa [parola] mia». La seconda è meno chiara, un aggettivo al
duale (sajósusà, «in accordo») precede i tre nomi di¬ vini.
Geldner risolve la difficoltà attaccando l’aggettivo non a ciò che
segue, ma come attributo a ciò che precede, ai due Asvin: « Horet aufden
Vyasvasohn, ihrHerren, und seid meiner hier ein^edenk, ein- miitig, (und
mit euch) Varuna Mitra Aryaman». Non so se ha ragione o se si può trovare
una giustificazione più sottile, ma come lui penso che gli dèi
dell’ultimo verso, qui come altrove, siano ire. b) Tratto dei
plurali come dei duali. Si tratta di RV, III, 54, 18, aryamd no dditir
yajmydsah, «Aryaman, Aditi [sono] degni (plurale e non duale!) dei nostri
sacrifici, dobbiamo sacrificare ad Aryaman, ad Aditi». Thieme consentirà
forse a credere che ho consultato la tradu¬ zione di Geldner: «.Aryaman,
Aditi sind uns anbetun^swert», con la nota corrispondente: « Den Plur.
yajnfyàsah, weil der Dichter an die iibriffen Àditya ’sdenkt». Ma ciò che
più m’interessava perii mio argo¬ mento (S., p. 68) è che in questo lesto
della «terza funzione» (la fine della strofa domanda abbondanza di
bestiame e di bambini), il gruppo degli dèi sovrani distacca, in qualche
modo come i suoi soli delegati espliciti, la loro madre e Axyaman.
Non prevedendo Thieme non ho preso la precauzione di ripetere in termini
di grammatica una precisa¬ zione che ogni vedista conosce. Il mio
commento si è limitato a dire: «Sembrerebbe che ancora qui sia
l’iniziativa di Aryaman che orienta l'azione collettiva degli Àditya
verso questa grazia speciale». Non è abbastanza chiaro? c)
Tratto un singolare come un duale. Si tratta del lapsus segna¬ lato più
sopra (n. 18) che, in A V, XIV, 1, 39 (S, p. 78, 1.8 e 11 ) mi ha fatto
scrivere e non mi ha fatto correggere «i suoceri» invece del «suo¬ cero»,
come traduzione di svdsurah. Thieme finge di credere che io abbia pensato
ai «due suoceri». Mi reputa così ignorante da poter cre¬ dere che io
abbia preso un nominativo in -ah, pur nella sua forma in -o, per un
nominativo duale? La stessa parola, sotto la stessa forma non è forse
correttamente tradotta la seconda volta che la si incontra (S, v. 1
19)? La spiegazione che mi parrebbe più plausibile è che, essendo poco
leggibile il mio manoscritto, il compositore abbia congetturato i
«suoceri» secondo i «cognati» che seguono immediatamente, o che
meccanicamente abbia messo allo stesso numero queste due parole così
analoghe [pères e frères nel testo. N.d.T.]. Può anche darsi che il
lapsus risalga al mio manoscritto. Mi dispiace molto ad ogni modo che
nella sovrabbondanza di correzioni che ho dovuto fare sulle bozze quello
mi sia scappato e che l’errore mi sia saltato agli occhi solamente
qualche mese dopo la pubblicazione. È in maniera sleale che Thieme
orchestra questo scandalo in due pagine e anche il mio errore su
svdsurah, suocero dell’unica moglie e non del marito. Nondimeno Thieme
dimentica di dire l’essenziale, cioè che per il mio argomento la menzione
del suocero e dei cognati (della moglie) in A V, XIV, 1,39 e quella del
suocero {della moglie) opposti al «resto dell’ari» in X, 28, 1
conservano tutto il loro valore dimostrativo, com’è stato mostrato qui
sopra a n. 18, poiché l’uno conferma che Aryaman, nel matrimo¬ nio, non
si interessa solamente ai giovani sposi, ma ai parenti per l’alleanza che
la loro unione stabilisce e l’altro indica (cosa ammessa da Thieme nel
1957; Z, p. 213!) che le alleanze matrimoniali si com¬ piono all’interno
dell’insieme ari. Insomma, Thieme grida «all’in¬ terpretazione errata!»
per mascherare il gioco di prestigio altrimenti grave fatto da lui stesso
all’insegnamento di tutti i testi che stabilisco- 137
no il vero ruolo di Aryaman nel matrimonio (vedi sopra 1 )'. Il libro è
in seguito infiorito di notae censoriae. Alcune mi sono sembrate
giuste ed utili e ne terrò conto, senza che nessuna cambi niente alle
figure e ai rapporti degli dèi. Molte sono, bisogna dirlo, un puro bluff
poiché Thieme denuncia come antigrammaticale, errata o sprovvista di
sen¬ so, una traduzione possibile ma che non ha il suo favore 2 ,
caricaturan¬ do le mie esposizioni 3 e inventando delle contraddizioni peravere
un motivo di risentimento in più 4 , etc. etc. 1 L’obiettivo
di questo triplo assalto grammaticale si scopre a pagina 17: «IJ'eel il
my duty to warn especially Lutinists, who cannai be expecled lo judge on thè
me¬ riti of Dumez.il' s indological araumenti, agama trusting
hispresentation oflhe Jacts oJ'Vedic religion loo confidently, andagainst
believing ihal only his "expla- naiions" need be discussed».
Non ho questa pretesa. Domando solo senza grandi speranze che latinisti o
indologi, di St. Andrews o di Yale, che vogliano discuter¬ mi lo facciano
lealmente. 2 P.es.,pp. 10-12;/?V, I, 141,9; p. 41 : /?V, X.
136,3;p. 62: RV, X, 89,9; ctc. p. 67, in RV VII, 82, 5, Thieme rende
correttamente duvasyatil Ha sicuramente ragione, ad ogni modo, a rimproverarmi
la riga di S., p. 40 («Mitra offre dei sacrifici a Va¬ nirla), in cui ho
esagerato la frase, in se stessa eccessiva, di Bergaigne(La religion
védique, III, p. 138: «In un passaggio in cui né Mitra né Varuna sono del
resto esplicitamente identificati ad Agni, il primo è opposto al secondo
come il sacer¬ dote al dio che onora»): duvasyati significa sempl
icementc «rendere gli onori do¬ vuti»; bisogna correggere in que.slo
senso Les dieux des Indoeuropéens, p. 42, 1.27: in RV, VII, 82, 5, Mitra
non è come un sacerdote di Varuna. 3 P. cs. pe>. 19-20, ciò che
ho detto dei rapporti tra il contratto e l'amicizia, Mitra- Varuna',
1948, pp. 79-83, non è compreso. Non ho fatto la lezione a Meillet; ho
semplicemente utilizzato i progressi che, dal suo articolo del 1907, i sociologi
hanno fatto compiere alla teoria del contratto presso i popoli
semi-civilizzati. Allo stesso modo, p. 82, la mia concezione dei rapporti
tra i diversi dèi sovrani si è de¬ formata: che si confronti il capitolo
II di Dieux des Indoeuropéens. L’etimologia dei nomi divini (Varuna,
Marut, il secondo elemento di Aryaman, etc.), salvo quando è evidente
(Mitra, etc.), mi interessa sempre meno (vedi Déesses latineset mythes
védiques, 1956, p. 117): qualunque sia quella di Varuna (e non credo mol¬
to a quella adottata da Thieme) ciò che conta è, studialo direttamente,
l’insieme del suo comportamento e il suo rapporto con le altre figure
divine: un dio non c prigioniero del suo nome. 4 P. es., p.
74, n. 54, Thieme segnala una contraddizione in S., tra la pagina 63 e
136, a proposito della sua traduzione di salpati: si verificherà
facilmente che essa non esiste. P. 76, n. 54, è con Panini che sono messo
così futilmente in contraddizione. P. 86, n. 60, sono accusato per due
parole di «mislranslations, wich might have been avoided by looking up
thè PW or any other good dictionary » ; Thieme vorrà rifarsi a A.B.
Keith, HOS XVIII, p. 167-168, di cui ho adottato la traduzione (e vi sono
ragioni per preferire questa interpretazione a quella di Thieme). P. 9;
Thieme non tiene conto della differenza d’intenzione tra Mitra-Varuna e
Le Troisième Souverain. A dispetto del suo titolo in¬ diano il primo
libro non tratta un soggetto indiano 1 ; si propone di di¬ mostrare che
presso gli altri popoli indoeuropei, a Roma e fra i Germa¬ ni in special
modo, esistevano delle coppie di dèi o di eroi della prima funzione la
cui articolazione è omologa a quella che A. Bergaigne ha scoperto per
Mitra e Varuna nel RV e che i Bràhmana illustrano con una campionatura
abbondante. Non avevo dunqueintenzione di stabi¬ lire «gli insegnamenti
degli inni stessi» e dei Bràhmana - che altri (dopo Bergaigne e H.
Glintert) avevano sufficientemente stabilito. In Le Troisième Souverain, al
contrario, con Aryaman abbordavo un pro¬ blema specificatamente
indo-iranico e poco trattato: ho dunque dovu¬ to riprendere tutti i
testi, discuterli e organizzare il dossier. Non vi è da scrivere sul mio
libretto da scolaro, di questo scolaro che sono felice di essere e di
rimanere, né contraddizioni né progressi nel metodo: a dei soggetti, a
dei bisogni diversi, a dei gradi ineguali di maturità della materia hanno
corrisposto dei procedimenti differenti. Quanto alle tesi stesse di
Thieme, le esaminerò nella Revue de l'Histoire des Religions e mi
sforzerò di rispondere con un’argomen¬ tazione serena a questa scherma da
gladiatore. Enumererò gli apporti positivi poiché ve ne sono. E
dimostrerò come sotto le apparenze del rigore filologico Thieme
misconosca costantemente le prospettive, ignori i dati statistici più
evidenti e distrugga i rapporti più probabili e sulla via così sgombra si
avanzi con una sovrana fantasia verso le pagi¬ ne sorprendenti che
terminano il suo libro. In attesa, a coloro che sarebbero
impressionati da questo mec¬ canismo, non posso che consigliare di
rileggere, circa i grandi Àditya, l’ammirevole esposizione di Abel
Bergaigne, certamente vecchia su molti punti, ma attenta sia al dettaglio
dei testi che alle strutture del pensiero, onesta e intelligente.
I J.C. Tavadia si era inizialmente sbaglialo ma fece in seguito I a più
leale riparazione. L’editoria
italiana ha accolto con favori e fortune alterne l’opera di un autore
tanto discusso, controverso e innovativo, quale fu Georges Dumézil,
persona acuta, intelligente e ironica, spirito polemico e non di rado
pungente ma sempre pronto a rimettersi in discussione, mano a mano che
l’inchiesta scientifica progrediva, grazie anche ai suoi avversari oltre
che ai colleghi che accolsero positivamente il suo metodo. Il lettore
nostrano troverà di piacevo¬ le lettura la traduzione della intervista
francese: Un banchetto dì immortalità. Conversazioni con Didier Eribon ,
Guanda, Milano 1992. Spetta alle Einaudi l’esordio di Georges
Dumézil nel panorama edito¬ riale del nostro dopoguerra, all’intemo di
quella “collana viola” che non sen¬ za travaglio di intelletti e di
coscienze (si legga il carteggio C. Pavese - E. de Martino, La collana
viola. Lettere Bollati Boringhieri, Torino a c. di P. Angelini) ha
contribuito a diffondere autori importanti come C.G. Jung, K. Kerény,L.
Frobenius, G. van derLeeuw, M. Eliade. Il libro Ju- piter, Mars,
Quirinus, Torino 1955, è una traduzione di parti dell’originale, più
capitoli di altri volumi come Naissance de Rome, Naissance d'Archanges, e
Jupiter, Mars, Quirinus IV, 1948. Il catalogo della Ei¬ naudi ritornerà
solo tardivamente, nel decennio degli ’80, a rioccuparsi di Dumézil,
traducendo Mito ed Epopea. La terra alleviata, 1982 (= Mythe et epopee f)
e Gli dei sovrani degli Indoeuropei, 1986. Spetta alla Adelphi
(Milano) la maggiore percentuale di libri tradotti, a cominciare dalla
raccolta di storie e leggende del Caucaso: // libro degli Eroi. Leggende
sui Nani, 1969 (ristampato nei tascabili economici della Bompiani, Milano
1976), fino a Gli dèi dei Germani, 1974; Matrimoni Indo¬ europei, 1984;
Le sortì del guerriero. Aspetti della funzione guerriera presso gli
Indoeuropei, 1990 (una prima traduzione di questo libro, condotta sulla
precedente edizione di Hetir etmalheur duguerrier, 1969, si deve ai tipi
della Rosemberg& Sellier: Ventura e sventura del guerriero,Tonno
1974). E infi¬ ne bisogna ricordare anche «...Il monaco nero in grigio
dentro Varennes», 141 1987 che è però un
divertissement enigmistico-letterario sulle profezie di
Nostradamus. Il catalogo della Rizzoli (Milano) si è arricchito di
due opere importanti e poderose, oggi purtroppo introvabili, come La religione
romana arca¬ ica, 1977 eStorie degli Sciti, 1980; mentre II Melangolo
(Genova) ha tradotto due volumi quali Idee romane, 1987 e Feste romane,
1989. Recentemente le edizioni Mediterranee (Roma) hanno tradotto La saga
di Hadingus. Dal mito al romanzo. Fra le poche opere italiane su questo
autore ricordiamo Rivière, Dumézil
egli studi indoeuropei. Una introduzione. Il Settimo Sigillo, Roma. Per una
bibliografia completa delle opere di (e su) Dumézil cf. la rivista Futuro
presente 2/1993 diretta da Alessandro Campi (numero monografico “Georges
Dumézil e l’eredità indo-europea”): oltre a un dibatti¬ to su Dumézil in
base alle aree storico-geografiche consuete nella sua ricerca (Roma,
Indo-Iranici, Caucaso, Germani), vi è un interessante articolo di Grisward
sulle persistenze del modello trifunzionale nella società medioeva¬ le -
suddivisione in oratores, bellatores, laboralores - e la traduzione di un
ar¬ ticolo di Dumézil in risposta alle critiche di una versione francese
di un saggio di Ginzburg (“Mitologia germanica e Nazismo”, apparso su
Quaderni Storici, ristampato in Id., Miti, emblemi, spie, Einaudi,
Torino) su un argomento, le presunte simpatie per la cultura nazista, già
affrontato da A. Momigliano, Rivista storica italiana. Sulle implicazioni
politiche e razzistiche degli studi indoeuropei cf. A. Piras, “Georges-Dumézil
e iproblemi dell’Indoeuropeistica ”,/Quaderni di Ava/lon e
“Indoeuropeistica e cultura europea”, in L 'Europa di fronte
all'Occidente, Il Cerchio, Rimini. Per uno studio comparato delle istituzioni
sociali, religiose, economi¬ che, amministrative, giuridiche, delle
diverse culture parlanti idiomi indoeu¬ ropei, cf. E. Benveniste, //
vocabolario delle istituzioni indoeuropee, I-II, Ei¬ naudi, Torino 1979
(e più edizioni); si veda anche E. Campanile, “Antichità indoeuropee”, in
A. Giacalone Ramat& P. Ramat(a c. di), Le lingue indoeu¬ ropee, Il
Mulino, Bologna 1993, pp. 19-43 e J. Ries (a c. di), L 'uomo indoeu¬
ropeo e il sacro, Jaca Book-Massimo, Milano 1991. Un argomento
dibattuto da decenni come la nozione di “lingua poe¬ tica indoeuropea”
(che consente di rintracciare nelle diverse letterature - Edda, Beomtlf,
poemi omerici. Veda, Avesta - elementi di una fraseologia co¬ mune ed
ereditaria) è stato di recente affrontato in un libro eccellente di G.
Costa, Le origini della lingua poetica indeuropea, Leo Olschki, Firenze. Ries
La riscoperta del pensiero religioso indoeuropeo L’opera magistrale
di Dumézil. Le tre funzioni sociali e
cosmiche. Le teologie tripartite. Le diverse funzioni nella teologia,
nella mitologia e nell 'epopea Storia degli Studi. Aryaman e
Paul Thieme Bibliografia italiana di Dumézil. Emanuele Castrucci. Castrucci.
Keywords: sul conferimento di valore, il
guerriero indo-germanico – Pound, conferire valore, implicanza pragmatica,
l’implicanza di speranza, l’impieganza di speranza, Apel, prammatica.; Refs.:
Luigi Speranza, “Grice e Castrucci” – The Swimming-Pool Library.
Grice e Catalfamo: all’isola -- l’implicatura
conversazionale e la metafisica della libertà – filosofia italiana – Luigi
Speranza (Catania).
Filosofo italiano. Grice: “I love Catalfamo; his ‘metaphysics of freedom’ is
better than anything that soi-dissant Dame Mary Warnock wrote on
‘existentialism’! Catalfamo, like most Italian philosophers, take, as Strawson
and I do, the concept of a ‘person’ seriously – indeed, so seriously that he,
along with a few other Italian philosopher, turn it into an –ism: his is a
critical personalism, though, best defined as an expansion from scepsis to
hope. Della corrente del "personalismo storico o critico". Si laurea in Pedagogia e in Scienze
Politiche. Prima assistente volontario di Galvano Della Volpe (che definisce
unico filosofo a livello di Croce), poi discepolo di Vincenzo La Via (che si
era formato alla scuola di Gentile, del quale era stato assistente), e suo
collaboratore dal 1946, diviene libero docente, incaricato di Pedagogia e
infine ordinario di Pedagogia. Fonda e diviene direttore dell'Istituto di
Pedagogia all'Messina. Il suo pensiero
si snoda in quattro fasi: dell'epistemologo, del personalista storico ed
antidogmatico, dello scettico, dell'uomo di fede. La formazione filosofica (fu
Assistente di ruolo di Filosofia e scrisse sulla rivista "Teoresi",
fondata dai suo maestro La Via) traspare nel suo pensiero pedagogico,
concepito, e nel tempo modificato, all'insegna dell'apertura e dell'innovazione
anche didattica. Nel suo personalismo, che ha come principi critici la
storicità, la trascendenza e la problematicità "egli rintraccia nuovi
aspetti... e incomincia a fare i conti con la storia e le sue fenomenologie",
" il personalismo... lentamente ma inesorabilmente si qualificherà come
«storico»; la persona assume una significanza fenomenologica di unità... in
costruzione", "Catalfamo collega l'esserci e il farsi della persona
al flusso della realtà oggettiva, nel doppio senso: nell'influenza e
stimolazione di questa verso quella e della trasformazione della realtà
oggettiva ad opera della persona". "L'uomo come soggetto agente
impedisce che l'esperienza sia un limite, cerca di oltrepassarla vedendo in
essa quello che non è e quello che potenzialmente è. La persona, dunque, è una
realtà trascendente". L'aspetto problematico del suo pensiero, infine, fa
riferimento alla "posizione stessa della persona, la quale, costituita
nell'esperienza, è radicata nella problematicità di essa, perché "il mondo
per la persona è sempre un problema, così come un problema è il suo essere nel
mondo". Catalfamo è stato fondatore
e direttore della rivista "Presenza" assieme al prof. Gianvito Resta;
fondatore e direttore di "Prospettive pedagogiche". Prorettore
dell'Messina. Gli è stata conferita dal Presidente della Repubblica, la
Medaglia d'oro al merito della Scuola, della Cultura, dell'Arte. La Giunta del
Comune di Messina gli ha intitolato un tratto di strada nei pressi
dell'Università, all'Annunziata alta. Più recentemente, a Messina, si è tenuta
una solenne cerimonia, nel corso della quale è stata scoperta una targa
commemorativa, che riporta una sua rilevante riflessione, e gli è stato
intitolato un Istituto Comprensivo. Altre
opere: Kant, Lezioni di pedagogia, Ed. Messina Empirismo pedagogico e
filosofia, "Teoresi", anno IV, nn.1-2 Pedagogia e Filosofia,
"Biblioteca dell'educatore", AVE, Milano Marxismo e Pedagogia, Avio,
Roma Il fondamento della pedagogia. Disegno di una pedagogia personalistica, Sessa,
Messina Personalismo pedagogico, Armando, Roma La pedagogia contemporanea e il
personalismo, Armando, Roma L'educazione fondamentale, Armando, Roma I
fondamenti del personalismo pedagogico, Armando, Roma La pedagogia
dell'idealismo (corso universitario), Providente, Messina Elementi di
psicopedagogia e pedagogia sperimentale (corso universitario), Providente,
Messina Storia della pedagogia come scienza filosofica, Barbera, Firenze
Criteriologia dell'insegnamento: la didattica del personalismo, Bemporad
Marzocco, Firenze Personalismo senza dogmi, Armando, Roma Giuseppe Lombardo
Radice, Ed. La Scuola, Brescia La pedagogia marxista sovietica (in
collaborazione con Salvatore Agresta), Edizioni dell'Istituto, Messina La
filosofia contemporanea dell'educazione, Istituto di Pedagogia, Messina
Compendio di psicopedagogia e pedopsichiatria (in collaborazione co Vitetta),
Parallelo 38, Reggio Calabria L'individualizzazione dell'insegnamento (in
collaborazione con Agresta), Peloritana editrice, Messina Lo spiritualismo
pedagogico, EDAS, Messina Introduzione alla psicologia dell'età evolutiva (in
collaborazione con L. Smeriglio), A. Signorelli Editore, Roma Ideologia e
pedagogia, EDAS, Messina La pedagogia del personalismo storico, EDAS, Messina
L'ideologia e l'educazione, Peloritana, Messina Aspetti della socializzazione, Peloritana,
Messina Le illusioni della pedagogia, Milella, Lecce Fondamenti di una pedagogia
della speranza,La Scuola, Brescia L'educazione politica alla democrazia, Pellegrini
Editore, Cosenza Educazione della persona e socializzazione, EDAS, Messina
Preliminari ad una dottrina dell'apprendimento, Catalfamo e il personalismo critico.
"Nuove Ipotesi" D.U.E.M.I.L.A., Palermo. Il personalismo Catalfamo,
Accademia Peloritana dei Pericolanti. Di qui
ap- punto si può anticipatamente scorgere, che le dif- ficoltà più
profonde incluse nel concetto di liberta, si potranno risolvere coll’
idealismo in sè preso, tanto poco quanto con qualunque altro
sistema parziale. L’ idealismo invero porge, della libertà, da un
lato il concetto più generale, dall’altro quello meramente formale. Ma il
concetto reale ’e vivente è, che essa consista in una facoltà del
bene e del male. Questo è il punto della difficoltà più grave,
che, in tutta la dottrina della libertà, è stata da lungo tempo
avvertita, e che tocca, non solo questo o quel sistema, bensì, più o meno,
tutti 1 : nel modo più spiccato di cerio il concetto
dell’immanenza; poiché, o si ammette un male reale, e allora è
inevitabile collocare il male nell’ infinita sostanza o nell’ originario
volere stesso, con che si distrugge interamente il concetto di un essere
perfettissimo; o bisogna negare in qualche maniera la realtà del
male, e con ciò svanisce insieme il concetto reale di libertà. Non minore
è l’intoppo, anche se inten- diamo nel modo più esteso la relazione tra
Dio e gli esseri mondani; poiché, dato pure che essa venga limitata
al cosiddetto concursus, o a quella necessaria cooperazione di Dio all’
agire delle crea- ture, che dev’ esser accettata grazie alla
essenziale dipendenza loro da Dio, anche se vuoisi del resto
affermare la libertà: in tal caso però Dio apparirà innegabilmente come
cooperatore del male, giac- ché il permetterlo in un essere in tutto e
per tutto dipendente non vai meglio che il contribuire a produrlo;
o anche qui, in un modo o nell’altro, dovrà esser negata la realtà del
male. La propo- sizione, che tutto il positivo della creatura venga
da Dio, anche in questo sistema dev’essere affer- mata. Ora, se si
ammette che nel male vi sia al- Schlegel ha il merito di aver fatto
valere questa difficoltà specialmente contro il panteismo nel suo
scritto sugl’ Indiani e in parecchi luoghi; ma è a deplorare soltanto che
quest’ acuto erudito non abbia creduto oppor- tuno comunicare la sua
propria veduta sull’ origine del male c sul suo rapporto col
bene. cunchè di positivo, anche questo positivo deriverà da Dio. Qui
si potrà opporre: il positivo del male, in quanto positivo, è bene. Con
ciò il male non viene a sparire, benché non venga neppure spie-
gato Infatti, se ciò che nel male sussiste' è bene, donde mai nasce ciò,
in cui questo sussistente è, la base, che forma propriamente il male?
Tutta diversa da quest’affermazione (sebbene spesso, anche di
recente, confusa con la prima) è 1’ altra, che nel male, in ogni caso,
non vi sia nulla di positivo, o, per usare un’espressione diversa,
che esso non esista affatto ( neppure con e in un altro elemento
positivo), ma che tutte le azioni siano più o meno positive, e che la
differenza tra loro consista in un semplice plus o minus di
perfezione, con che non si stabilisce alcuna opposizione, e però il
male svanisce interamente. Sarebbe questa la seconda possibile ipotesi in
rapporto alla propo- sizione, che tutto il positivo scaturisca da
Dio. Allora la forza, che si mostra nel male, sarebbe sì, al
paragone, più imperfetta di quella che appare nel bene, ma, considerata
in sé, o fuori del para- gone, sarebbe una perfezione pur sempre, la quale
dunque, come ogni altra, dev’ esser derivata da Dio. Ciò che noi in tal
caso chiamiamo un male, è solo il minor grado di perfezione, il quale
però solo per il nostro bisogno di comparazione appare come
difetto, mentre nella natura non è punto. Che questa sia la vera opinione
di Spinoza, non è possibile negare. Qualcuno potrebbe tentare di
sfuggire a quel dilemma, rispondendo: che il positivo derivante da Dio
sarebbe la libertà, la quale è in se stessa indifferente verso il male
e il bene. Ma, se egli concepisce questa indifferenza, non in modo
puramente negativo, bensì come una 1 Nel testo: « Seietide.
» vivente e positiva facoltà di determinarsi al bene e al
male, non si vede come da Dio, che vien considerato come pura bontà,
possa mai seguire una facoltà di eleggere il male. È evidente da
ciò, per dirla di passaggio, che, se la libertà è real- mente quel
che in conformità di questo concetto deve essere (ed è immancabilmente),
non si può essa giustificare con la già tentata derivazione della
libertà da Dio; poiché, se la libertà è un potere di far il male, essa
dovrà avere una radice indipendente da Dio. Così incalzati, si può
esser tentati di gettarsi in braccio al dualismo. Ma questo
sistema, se dev’ esser concepito effettivamente come la dottrina di due
principii opposti e tra loro indi- pendenti, non è se non un sistema del
suicidio e dello sconforto della ragione. Se poi il principio
cattivo è pensato come dipendente in un certo senso dal buono, tutta la
difficoltà della deriva- zione del male dal bene è certo concentrata
in un solo essere, ma viene così ad essere accresciuta anziché
diminuita. Anche supponendo che questo secondo essere fu dapprincipio
creato buono e per propria colpa si staccò dall'essere originario,
resta sempre inesplicabile in tutti i sistemi, che si son avuti
finora, la prima facoltà di un atto di ribel- lione a Dio. Perciò, anche
se noi finiamo col sopprimere, non solamente l’identità, ma ogni
le- game degli esseri mondani con Dio, considerando la loro
esistenza attuale e quella del mondo con essa come un allontanamento da
Dio, la diffi- coltà è solo spostata di un punto, ma non tolta.
Infatti, per potere scaturire da Dio, essi dovevano già esistere in un
certo modo, e non si potrebbe menomamente opporre al panteismo la
dottrina dell’emanazione, presupponendo essa un’originaria
esistenza delle cose in Dio e quindi naturalmente il panteismo. A
spiegare quell’ allontanamento, si potrebbe solo addurre quanto segue. O
esso è involontario da parte delle cose, ma non da parte di
Dio: e allora, siccome esse da Dio furono get- tate nello stato d’
infelicità e di malizia, Dio è 1’ autore di un tale stato. O è
involontario da ambe le parti, cagionato forse da esuberanza dell’
essere, come alcuni affermano: rappresentazione insoste- nibile
affatto. O è volontario da parte delle cose, uno svellersi da Dio, dunque
la conseguenza di una colpa, alla quale segue una sempre pivi pro-
fonda caduta: e allora questa prima colpa è già per se stessa il male, e
non dà alcuna spiega- zione dell’ origine di esso. Senza un tale
espe- diente poi, che, se spiega il male nel mondo, estingue
viceversa, e interamente, il bene, e invece del panteismo introduce un
pandenionismo, sva- nisce precisamente nel sistema dell’ emanazione
ogni proprio contrasto di bene e male; il Primo, si perde per infiniti
gradi intermedii, mediante un graduale attenuarsi, in ciò che non ha più
alcuna parvenza di bene, suppergiù allo stesso modo in cui Plotino,
1 con sottigliezza bensì, ma senza lasciar appagati, descrive il transito
del bene ori- ginario nella materia e nel male. Invero, da un
costante processo di subordinazione e di allonta- namento, vien fuori un
Ultimo, di là dal quale il divenire è impossibile, e questo appunto (ciò
che è incapace di produrre ulteriormente) è il male. Ovvero: se
qualche cosa è dopo il Primo, dev’ es- serci anche un Ultimo, che del
Primo non ha più nulla in sè, e questo è la materia e la necessità
del male. Dopo tali considerazioni, non sembra giusto
rovesciare tutto il peso di questa difficoltà su di un solo sistema,
specialmente se ciò che di più alto si pretende di opporgli, è così poco
soddi- 1 Ennead. I. L. Vili, c. 8. sfacente. Anche le
generalità dell’ idealismo non ci possono dare qui alcun aiuto. Con dei
concetti lambiccati di Dio, come /’ actus purissimùs, del genere di
quelli che stabiliva la filosofia antica, o di quelli, che la moderna
cava fuori pur sempre, con la preoccupazione di tenere Dio a gran
di- stanza dall’ intiera natura, non si riesce a nulla di nulla.
Dio è qualcosa di più reale che un sem- plice ordinamento morale del
cosmo, ed ha in sè ben altre e ben più vive forze motrici di quelle
che P arida sottigliezza degl’ idealisti astratti gli attribuisce.
L’orrore per ogni realtà, quasi che lo spirituale possa contaminarsi in
ogni contatto con essa, deve naturalmente produrre anche la cecità
per l’origine del male. L’idealismo, se non ha per base un realismo
vivente, diviene un sistema altret- tanto vuoto e lambiccato, quanto il
leibniziano, lo spinoziano, o qualunque altro sistema dogmatico.
Tutta la nuova filosofia europea dal suo principio (con Descartes) ha
questo comune difetto, che la natura non esiste per essa, e che le manca
un vivo fondamento. Il realismo dello Spinoza è per- tanto così
astratto, come l’idealismo del Leibniz. L’idealismo è l’anima della
filosofia; il realismo n’ è il corpo; solo tutti e due insieme fanno
un tutto vivente. Il secondo non può mai offrire il principio, ma
bisogna che sia la base ed il mezzo, in cui quello si realizza, prendendo
carne esangue. Se ad una filosofia manca questo fondamento vivo, il
che d’ ordinario è segno che anche il principio idea'e aveva
originariamente in essa una debole efficacia: essa verrà a perdersi in
quei sistemi, i cui distillati concetti di aseità, modificazioni
ecc. stanno nel più acuto contrasto con la forza vitale e la
pienezza della realtà. Dove poi il principio ideale è fornito davvero e
in alta misura di forza operativa, ma non può trovare una base di
conci- liazione e di mediazione, produrrà un torbido e selvaggio
entusiasmo, che finirà nella macerazione di se stessi, o, come accadeva
ai sacerdoti della dea Frigia, nell’ evirazione, la quale in filosofia si
compie abbandonando la ragione e la scienza. È parso necessario
incominciare questo trattato con la giustificazione di concetti
essenziali, che da lungo tempo, ma in particolare ultimamente, sono
stati ingarbugliati. Le osservazioni fatte si- nora debbono perciò
considerarsi come semplice introduzione alla nostra indagine vera e
propria. Noi l’abbiamo già dichiarato: solo con i prin- cipii d:
una vera filosofia della natura si può svolgere quella veduta, che dà
completa soddisfa zione al tema che ci proponiamo. Noi non ne-
ghiamo perciò che una tale esatta veduta sia stata già da lungo tempo
anticipata da alcuni intelletti. Ma erano anch’ essi appunto quelli, che
senza te- mere gli epiteti ingiuriosi di materialismo, pantei- smo
ecc., usuali da un pezzo contro ogni filosofia realistica, cercavano il
principio vivente della na- tura, e, in contrapposto ai dogmatici ed
agl’idea- listi astratti, che li respingevano come mistici, erano
filosofi naturali (nell’ uno e nell’altro senso). La filosofia
naturale dei nostri tempi ha per la pri- ma volta introdotta nella
scienza la distinzione tra l’essere, in quanto esiste, e l’essere, in
quanto è semplice fondamento di esistenza. Tale distin- zione è
vecchia quanto la prima esposizione scien- tifica di essa. 1 Nonostante
che proprio in questo punto essa diverga nel modo più reciso dalla
via di Spinoza, pure in Oermania si è poiuto fin adesso affermare
che i suoi principii metafisici siano tut- t’uno con quelli di Spinoza; e
sebbene quella distin- zione appunto porti nello stesso tempo la più
recisa 1 Si veda nella Zeitschrift tur spekul. Physik Bd.
II, Heft 2, § 54 nota, [IV, S. 146], inoltre nota 1 al § 93 e la
spiegaz. a p. 114 [S. 203). distinzione della natura da Dio, ciò non ha
im- pedito che la si accusasse di confondere Dio con la natura.
Poiché sulla medesima distinzione si fonda la presente ricerca, sia detto
quanto segue a fine d’ illustrarla. Non esistendo nulla prima
o fuori di Dio, con- viene che egli abbia in se stesso il fondamento
della sua esistenza. Cosi dicono tutti i filosofi; ma essi parlano
di questo fondamento come di un puro concetto, senza farne alcunché di
reale e di effettivo. Questo fondamento della sua esistenza, che
Dio ha in sé, non è Dio assolutamente con- siderato, cioè in quanto
esiste; poiché esso non è se non il fondamento della sua esistenza,
esso è la natura in Dio; un essere inseparabile, è vero, ma pur
distinto da lui. Questo rapporto si può chiarire analogicamente con
quello tra la forza di gravità e la luce nella natura. La forza di
gravità precede la luce, come suo eternamente oscuro fondamento, il quale
per se stesso non è actu e si dilegua nella notte, mentre la luce
(l’esistente) sorge. 11 suggello, sotto cui essa è chiusa, non è sciolto
interamente neppur dalla luce. ' Appunto perciò essa non è nè l’
essenza pura nè l’essere attuale dell’ assoluta identità, ma non fa
se non seguire dalla sua natura;* * o essa è, considerata in altri
termini nella potenza deter- minata: poiché del resto, anche ciò, che
relati- vamente alla forza di gravità appare come esistente, in se
stesso poi appartiene al fondamento, e la natura in genere è pertanto ciò
che rimane di là dall’essere assoluto dall’identità assoluta. 3 Per
quanto del resto concerne quella precedenza, essa non è a concepirsi nè
come precedenza di tempo, nè come priorità di essenza. Nel circolo, da
cui ogni cosa deriva, non v’ è alcuna contradizione ad ammettere
che ciò, da cui 1’ Uno è prodotto, sia alla sua volta prodotto da esso.
Non v'è qui un primo ed un ultimo, perchè tutto si presuppone a
vicenda, nessuna cosa è 1’ altra e tuttavia non è senza l’altra. Dio ha
in sè un intimo fondamento della sua esistenza, che in questo senso precede
lui come esistente; ma Dio a sua volta è del pari il Prius del
fondamento, giacché questo, anche come tale, non potrebbe essere, se Dio
non esistesse actu. Alla medesima distinzione porta la
riflessione scaturiente dalle cose. Primieramente è da lasciare affatto
in disparte il concetto dell’ immanenza, in quanto esprima per avventura
una morta compren- sione delle cose in Dio. Noi riconosciamo piut-
tosto, che il concetto del divenire sia l’unico ap- propriato alla natura
delle cose. Ma queste non possono divenire in Dio, assolutamente
conside- rato, mentre sono tato genere , o per parlare più giusto,
infinitamente diverse da lui. Per essere staccate da Dio, occorre che
divengano in una base differente da lui. Ma nulla potendo essere
fuori di Dio, la contradizione si scioglie solo am- mettendo, che le cose
abbiano la loro base in ciò che in Dio non è Egli stesso ', ovvero in ciò
che è base della sua esistenza. Se vogliamo accostare
maggiormente quest’ es- sere all’ intelletto umano, possiamo dire : che
egli sia il desiderio, che sente l’Eterno Uno, di generare 1
È questo l’unico vero dualismo, cioè quello che nello stesso tempo
concede un’unità. Più su era in questione il dualismo modificato, secondo
cui il principio malvagio è, non coordinato, ma subordinato al buono. C’e
appena datemere che qualcuno confonda il rapporto stabilito qui con
quel dualismo, in cui il subordinato è sempre un principio es-
senzialmente cattivo, e appunto perciò rimane totalmente incomprensibile
nella sua origine da Dio. se stesso. Non è l’Uno stesso, ma pure è
coeterno con lui. Vuol generare Dio, cioè l’impenetrabile unità, ma
in questo senso non è in se stess’o an cora V unità. È dunque,
considerato per sè, anche volere; ma volere in cui non c’è intelligenza,
e però anche, non autonomo e perfetto volere, perchè l’in- telletto
propriamente è il volere nel volere. Tuttavia esso è un volere che si
dirige all’ intelletto, cioè desiderio e brama di esso; non un conscio,
ma un presago volere, il cui presagio è l’intelletto. Noi parliamo
dell’essenza del desiderio in sè e per sè considerata, che dev’essere ben
tenuta d’occhio quantunque sia stata da gran tempo sop- piantata
dal principio superiore, che si è elevato da essa, e quantunque non
possiamo afferrarla sensibilmente, ma solo con lo spirito e col
pen- siero. Secondo l’eterno atto dell' auto- rivelazione, tutto
invero nel mondo, come lo scorgiamo adesso, è regola, ordine e forma; ma
nel fondo c’è pur sempre l’irregolare, come se una volta dovesse
ricomparire alla luce, e non sembra mai che l’ or- dine e la forma siano
l’originario, ma che qual- cosa di originariamente irregolare sia stata
solle- vata ad ordine. Questo è nelle cose l’inafferrabile base
della realtà, il residuo non mai appariscente, ciò, che, per quanti
sforzi si facciano, non si può risolvere in elemento intellettuale, ma
resta nel fondo eternamente. Da questo Irrazionale è,- nel senso
proprio, nato l’ intelletto. Senza il precedere di questa oscurità, non
v’è alcuna realtà della creatura; la tenebra è il suo retaggio
necessario. Dio solo — egli medesimo l’Esistente — abita nella pura
luce, poiché egli solo è da se stesso. La presunzione dell’ uomo si
ribella assolutamente a quest’origine, e anzi va in cerca di principi!
morali. Tuttavia non sapremmo che cos'altro po- tesse maggiormente
spinger l’ uomo a tendere con tutte le sue forze verso la luce, che la
coscienza della profonda notte, da cui egli è stato tratto al-
l’esistenza. I lamenti feminei, che in tal modo si ponga F inintelligente
come radice dell’intelletto, la notte come principio della luce, si
fondano in parte su di un’equivoca interpretazione della cosa (in
quanto non si capisce, come con questa ve- duta la priorità
dell’intelletto e dell’essenza secon- do il concetto possa tuttavia
sussistere); ma essi esprimono il vero sistema degli odierni
filosofi, che volentieri produrrebbero fumum ex fulgore, al che non
basta la potentissima precipitazione fich- tiana. Ogni nascita è nascita
dall’ oscurità alla luce; il seme dev’essere profondato nella terra
e morire nelle tenebre, affinchè la bella e luminosa forma vegetale
si aderga e si spieghi ai raggi del sole. L’uomo vien formato nel corpo
della madre; e dal buio dell’irrazionale (dal sentimento, dalla
brama , 1 splendida madre della conoscenza) germo- gliano i luminosi
pensieri. Noi pertanto dobbia- mo rappresentarci la brama originaria,
come diri- gentesi verso l’intelletto, che essa non ancora conosce,
così come noi nell’aspirazione aneliamo ad un bene ignoto e senza nome, e
agitantesi pre- saga, come un mare che ondeggia e ribolle, simile
alla materia di Platone, secondo una legge oscura ed incerta, senza la
capacità di formare qualcosa che duri. Ma, rispondendo alla brama, che,
quale fondamento ancora oscuro, è il primo segno di vita
dell’essere divino, si genera in Dio stesso un’ intima riflessiva
rappresentazione, mercè la quale, poiché non può avere altro oggetto
che Dio, Dio contempla in una immagine se stesso. Tale
rappresentazione è la prima forma in cui si realizza Dio, assolutamente
considerato, benché solo in lui stesso ; è in Dio inizialmente, ed è
Dio 1 Nel testo: « Sehnsucht ». stesso generato in Dio. Tale
rappresentazione è ad un tempo l’ intelletto — il verbo di quell’
aspi-, razione,* e l’eterno spirito, che sente in ih il verbo e
insieme l’infinita aspirazione, mosso dal- l’amore, che è egli medesimo,
esprime il verbo, che oramai, accoppiandosi l’intelletto
all’aspira- zione, diviene volontà liberamente creativa e onni-
potente, e nella natura, dapprincipio sregolata, pro- duce come in un suo
elemento o strumento. 11 primo effetto dell’ intelligenza in essa è la
separa- zione delle forze, potendo egli solo così dispie- gare
l’unità che vi è contenuta inconsciamente, quasi in un seme, eppur
necessariamente, a quel modo stesso che nell’ uomo la luce s’ insinua
nel- l’oscuro desiderio di cercare qualcosa, per il fatto, che nel
caotico tumulto dei pensieri, che tutti s’intrecciano, ma ognuno
impedisce all’altro di sor- gere, i pensieri si scindono e sorge l’unità,
che è nascosta nel fondo e che tutti li comprende sotto di sè; o
come nella pianta, solo nel rapporto del di- spiegarsi e propagarsi delle
forze, si scioglie l’o- scuro vincolo della gravità e viene a
svilupparsi l’unità nascosta nella materia distinta. Poiché in-
vero quest’essere (della natura primordiale) non è altro che l’eterno
fondamento dell’esistenza di Dio, perciò deve contenere in se stesso,
benché chiara, l’essenza di Dio, quasi un lume di vita risplendente
nell’oscurità. II desiderio poi, eccitato dall’ intelligenza, tende ormai
a conservare quel lume di vita che ha accolto in sè, e a
rinchiudersi in se stesso, per rimanere pur sempre come fon-
damento. Quando perciò l’intelletto, o il lume posto nella natura
primordiale, spinge alla sepa- razione delle forze (all’abbandono
dell’oscurità) il desiderio che si ritira in se stesso, facendo
sor- 1 Nel senso in cui si dice: la parola dell’enigma.
gere, appunto in questa separazione, l’unità in- clusa nel
distinto, il nascosto lume di vita, nasce in tal modo per la prima volta
alcunché di com- prensibile o di singolo, e in verità, non per via
di rappresentazione esterna, bensì di vera imma- ginazione , ' poiché
quel che sorge nella natura è figurato di dentro; o, più esattamente
ancora, per via di un risveglio, in quanto che l’intelletto fa
sorgere l’unità o l’idea occultata nel fondamen- tale distinto . 1 2 Le
forze separate (ma non comple- tamente staccate) in tale distinzione son
la materia, onde poi è configurato il corpo; invece il legame
vivente che nasce nella distinzione, e però dall’imo fondo naturale, come
centro delle forze, è l’ani- ma. Siccome l’intelletto originario trae
l’anima, come elemento interiore, da un fondo indipen- den e da
esso, rimane perciò anch’essa indipen- dente, come un’essenza speciale e
sussistente di per sé. È facile vedere, che nella resistenza
del desi- derio, necessaria alla perfetta nascita, il legame
strettissimo delle forze si scioglie in uno svolgi- mento che avviene per
gradi e, ad ogni grado della separazione delle forze, sorge dalla natura
un nuovo essere, la cui anima sarà tanto più perfet- ta, quanto più
contiene distinto ciò, che negli altri è ancora indistinto. Mostrare come
ogni suc- cessivo processo venga ad avvicinarsi sempre più
all’essenza della natura, finché nella massima separazione delle forze si
schiude il più intimo centro, è ufficio di una perfetta filosofia
della natura. Per lo scopo presente è essenziale quanto segue.
Ognuno degli esseri, sorti nella natura 1 Nel testo ;
Ein-Bildilng, onde un gioco di parole intra- ducibile nella nostra
lingua. Alla lettera; « nel fondamento distinto »; in dcm geschie- denen
Grande. (N. d. T). secondo la maniera indicata, ha in sè un doppio
principio, che è uno e identico in fondo, ma si- può considerare sotto
due aspetti. Il primo prin- cipio è quello, per cui essi son distinti da
Dio, o per cui sono nel solo fondamento; ma, siccome tra ciò, che è
esemplato nel fondamento, e ciò, che è esemplato nell’intelletto, ha pur
luogo una originaria unità, e il processo della creazione tende
solo a trasmutare internamente o a rischiarare nella luce il principio
originariamente oscuro (perchè l’intelletto, o la luce introdotta nella
na- tura, cerca in fondo propriamente la luce affine, rivolta a
loro): così il principio tenebroso per sua natura è appunto quello, che è
insieme rischia- rato nella luce, ed entrambi, sebbene in determi-
nato grado, son uno in ogni essere naturale. Il principio, in quanto
nasce dal fondo ed è oscuro, è il volere individuale della creatura, il
quale però, in quanto non è ancora assurto (non comprende) a
perfetta unità con la luce (come principio del- l’intelletto), è mera
passione o brama, ossia vo- lere cieco. A questo volere individuale della
crea- tura si contrappone l’intelletto come volere univer- sale,
che si serve del primo, subordinandolo a sè come semplice strumento. Se
infine, proce- dendo la trasformazione e separazione di tutte le
forze, è messo in piena luce il punto più interno e profondo della
primordiale oscurità in un es- sere, allora il volere di quest’essere è
bensì, in quanto esso è un individuo, egualmente un vo- lere particolare,
ma in sè, o come centro di tutti gli altri voleri particolari, è uno col
volere origi- nario o coll’intelletto, cosicché di entrambi si fa
ora un unico insieme. Quest’elevazione del più profondo centro alla luce
non accade in nes- suna delle creature a noi visibili fuorché nel-
l’uomo. Nell’uomo è tutta la potenza del principio tenebroso e ad un
tempo tutta la potenza della luce. In lui è il più profondo abisso e il
più alto cielo, o entrambi i centri. Il volere dell’uomo è il germe
occultato nell’ eterna brama di un Dio esistente ancora nel fondamento;
il divino lume di vita chiuso nel profondo e che Dio vide, quando
concepì il volere di crear la natura. In lui soltanto (nell’ uomo) Dio ha
amato il mondo; e la brama accolse nel suo centro appunto
quest’immagine di Dio, quando entrò in conflitto con la luce.
L’uomo per ciò, che egli scaturisce dall’ imo fondo (è una creatura), ha
in sè un principio indipen- dente per rapporto a Dio; ma per ciò, che
sif- fatto principio — senza cessare tuttavia di essere tenebroso
nel suo fondo — è chiarificato nella luce, si schiude insieme in lui
qualcosa di più alto, lo spirito. Infatti l’eterno spirito esprime
l’unità o il verbo nella natura. 11 verbo espresso (reale) poi è solo
nell’unità di luce e tenebre (vocale e consonante). Ora in tutte le cose
vi sono bensì i due principii, ma senza piena conso- nanza, a causa
della manchevolezza di ciò che è elevato dal fondo. Solo nell’uomo dunque
è piena- mente espresso il verbo, che in tutte le altre cose è
ancora arrestato e incompiuto. Ma nel verbo espresso viene a rivelarsi lo
spirito, cioè Dio, esi- stente come actu. Essendo poi l’ anima
identità vivente dei due principii, essa è spirito; e lo spi- rito
è in Dio. Ora, se nello spirito dell’ uomo l’identità dei due principii
fosse altrettanto indis- solubile che in Dio, non vi sarebbe alcuna
diffe- renza, cioè Dio, come spirito, non si rivelerebbe. Quella
medesima unità, che in Dio è inseparabile, deve essere adunque separabile
nell’ uomo, — ed ecco la possibilità del bene e del male. libertà
Capacità del soggetto di agire (o di non agire) senza costrizioni o impedimenti
esterni, e di autodeterminarsi scegliendo autonomamente i fini e i mezzi atti a
conseguirli. La l. può essere definita in riferimento a tre elementi: il
soggetto o i soggetti di l. (chi è libero), i campi entro cui essi sono liberi
(definiti dai vincoli), gli scopi o i beni socialmente riconosciuti che si è
liberi di perseguire (che cosa si è liberi di fare). Come vi sono vari tipi di
agenti che possono essere liberi (persone, associazioni, Stati), così vi sono
molti tipi di condizioni che li vincolano e innumerevoli generi di cose che
essi sono liberi o non liberi di fare. In questo senso esistono molte l.
diverse (morale, giuridica, politica, religiosa, economica, ecc.). Di
conseguenza, quando cerchiamo di definire stati di l., abbiamo a che fare con
questioni relative all’identificazione di chi, sotto quale descrizione
pertinente per il riconoscimento collettivo, è libero di fare che cosa, rispetto
a quali vincoli, entro quale campo di azione e significato sociale. La
riflessione sul tema della l. accompagna tutta lo storia del pensiero
filosofico, dall’antichità all’epoca contemporanea, con accenti e approcci
diversi. Il tema della libertà nella filosofia antica. Nel pensiero
di Socrate hanno un grande rilievo i due motivi, strettamente connessi tra
loro, della involontarietà del male e dell’attraenza del bene. Socrate è
convinto che nessuno fa il male volontariamente, cioè per il gusto di fare il
male, e che ognuno agisce sempre in vista di quello che egli crede sia il bene
e il meglio per lui. Se per questo verso Socrate resta all’interno del
cosiddetto soggettivismo dei sofisti, nel senso che anche per lui non è mai
possibile uscire dall’ambito delle valutazioni, dei gusti e delle preferenze
individuali, tuttavia questi vengono continuamente giudicati, criticati e
discussi attraverso il διαλέγεσϑαι («il disputare») e ciò permette di ritrovare
criteri comuni e validi universalmente. Fare il male, per Socrate, vuol dire
seguire un bene apparente invece del bene reale; infatti, se uno conoscesse il
bene, lo farebbe anche, perché il bene è tale che, una volta conosciuto, attrae
irresistibilmente la volontà dell’uomo e si presenta senz’altro come ciò che è
preferibile. Di qui l’equazione socratica di scienza e virtù, strettamente
connessa all’eudemonismo che caratterizza tutta l’etica socratica. Di qui,
implicitamente, una concezione della l. come meta raggiungibile attraverso la
scienza. Questa concezione ritorna anche in Platone, sia pure all’interno di
una prospettiva escatologica: si pensi al mito di Er (Repubblica,X), il
guerriero che ha passato dodici giorni nell’Ade e che può ricordare ciò che ha
visto. L’anima, che è immortale, deve reincarnarsi ciclicamente per espiare i
peccati che ha commesso, e poiché essa ricorda le sue vite precedenti, può
scegliere fra vari «modelli di vita». Ciascuna anima è responsabile della
propria scelta, «la divinità non vi ha minimamente parte», e ognuna avrà, per
guidarla nella sua vita, il demone che si sarà scelto. Una volta avvenuta la
decisione, non ci sarà più possibilità di sottrarvisi. Ma solo chi ha ascoltato
la filosofia sa riflettere con discernimento: se la scelta, dunque, è libera,
di questa l. è possibile fruire nel migliore dei modi solo attraverso la
filosofia. Anche in Aristotele troviamo il consueto rapporto greco tra l. e
conoscenza. Secondo l’analisi svolta nell’Etica nicomachea (III, 1),
involontarie sono quelle operazioni «che avvengono per costrizione» o «per
ignoranza»; la costrizione ha luogo ogni volta che «il principio dell’azione
sia esteriore, di modo che l’agente, o paziente, non vi contribuisca per
nulla». Quanto alle azioni commesse per ignoranza, l’involontarietà deriva dal
fatto che «ogni malvagio ignora ciò che si deve fare e ciò da cui ci si deve
astenere». Pare dunque, conclude Aristotele, che «sia volontario ciò il cui
principio si trova nell’agente che conosce tutte le circostanze particolari
dell’azione». In questo modo Aristotele congiunge strettamente la l. del volere
alla scelta volontaria. Un’ampia analisi dei problemi connessi con la libertà
ci dà Plotino nelle Enneadi (VI, 8). Egli si chiede «se sia qualche cosa
rimessa alla nostra libertà», e poiché moltissime sono le passioni che ci
trascinano, «noi ci domandiamo perplessi», dice Plotino, «se non siamo, per
avventura, altro che nulla, e nulla sia rimesso alla nostra libertà». Plotino
riconduce la l. del volere non a un impulso sensibile, bensì «al retto
ragionamento e alla giusta tendenza»; è necessar io, insomma, che «la
ragione e la conoscenza si rivolgano proprio contro l’impulso e lo vincano».
Perciò esse devono rifarsi a un principio non-sensibile, a una non-sensibile
tendenza al bene. Coloro che sono guidati da impulsi sensibili, non potremo
considerarli, sostiene quindi Plotino, «compresi sotto un principio di l.,
perché anche agli incapaci, che agiscono per lo più in quel modo, non
riconosceremo mai l. del volere: a chi, invece, per la virtù operosa del suo
intelletto, è immune dalla passionalità del corpo, attribuiremo veramente la
libera indipendenza». Cristianesimo e Riforma. Sul concetto di l.
influisce in modo profondo l’avvento del cristianesimo. Hegel osservava a
questo proposito (Enciclopedia delle scienze filosofiche in compendio, 482) che
intere parti del mondo, l’Africa e l’Oriente, non avevano mai avuto questa
nuova idea della l.; i Greci e i Romani, Platone e Aristotele, e anche gli
stoici sapevano solo che l’uomo è realmente libero in virtù della nascita (come
cittadino spartano, ateniese, ecc.) o in virtù della forza del carattere e
della cultura, in virtù della filosofia (lo schiavo, anche come schiavo e in
catene, è libero). Ma una nuova idea di l. si afferma per opera del
cristianesimo; per il quale l’individuo come tale ha valore infinito, ed
essendo oggetto e scopo dell’amore di Dio, è destinato ad avere relazione
assoluta con Dio come spirito, e a far sì che questo spirito dimori in lui:
cioè l’uomo in sé è destinato alla somma libertà. Se il concetto di l. del
volere diventa centrale per il cristianesimo, perché senza la l. dell’uomo non
sarebbe concepibile il peccato, e dunque non avrebbe senso alcuno la
redenzione, tuttavia il concetto di l. deve congiungersi strettamente a quello
di grazia divina, a un qualcosa cioè di esterno e indipendente. Agostino sente
la necessità di affermare la responsabilità umana e insieme un prestabilito
disegno divino. A Pelagio, che asseriva che il volere umano, dopo il peccato,
può anche volgersi al bene, Agostino risponde che certamente «può»; ma la
maniera in cui riesce concretamente a volere quel bene che «può» volere è che
le reali forze di volerlo gli siano date da quello stesso vivente Bene a cui
volse le spalle. E a Giuliano d’Eclano Agostino risponde che la predeterminazione
divina non annulla ma include il libero arbitrio umano e le sue scelte, e che,
se Dio concede il suo aiuto a chi vuole, ciò non toglie che con un volere
libero, sebbene ridestato dall’aiuto divino, l’uomo riesca a volere il bene,
sicché un reale merito, per quanto reso possibile solo dalla grazia, è premiato
con la salvezza. Tommaso, a sua volta, sostiene che il poter fare il male
proviene sì dalla l., ma da un suo difetto, non da una sua perfezione: «che il
libero arbitrio possa scegliere oggetti diversi rispettando l’ordine delle
finalità, appartiene alla perfezione della l.: ma che scelga alcunché
travolgendo tale ordine – ciò che è peccare – questo appartiene a un difetto di
libertà» (Summa theologiae). Dopo il Medioevo, nel quale la soluzione
agostiniana è accolta da taluni con più intensa accentuazione dell’onnipotenza
della grazia nel volere umano, da altri con maggiore preoccupazione di mostrare
che il libero arbitrio non è tolto neppure dall’onnipotenza della grazia, il
Cinquecento è il secolo nel quale la questione è ridiscussa interamente. Da
un’interpretazione di Agostino sorgono le dottrine di Calvino e di Lutero,
entrambe negatrici di ogni libero arbitrio umano, entrambe affermatrici di una
l. nel bene che coincide con la più rigorosa necessitazione del volere umano da
parte della grazia. Per i rifor- matori la l. cristiana è una realtà
‘spirituale’: essi avversano con decisione la sua interpretazione distorta in
termini politici. Se Lutero, tornando a un’interpretazione di Paolo, si impegna
a fondo nella critica della l. cristiana come libertas ecclesiae, che
nient’altro diviene se non l’insieme dei privilegi, delle immunità e delle
rivendicazioni dell’istituzione ecclesiastica, Calvino sottrae al regimen
politicum o all’ordinamento civile il concetto della l. cristiana, che viene
invece ascritto all’ambito autonomo della teologia. La tesi della l. della
coscienza vincolata soltanto alla parola di Dio, in quanto tale non sottoposta
ad alcuna autorità ecclesiastica o secolare, e l’aperta protesta contro una
simile coartazione della coscienza, il rigetto delle pretese mondane di potere
della Chiesa e della sua sovraordinazione all’ambito statuale-secolare
prepareranno la strada alla concezione moderna della l. e al dibattito sul suo
significato politico-giuridico. Il dibattito su libertà e
necessità. Nel Seicento, Spinoza ripristina il concetto stoico dell’universale
necessità e il concetto parimenti stoico di una l. che non presuppone, anzi
nega il libero arbitrio, ed è fatta consistere nel riconoscimento e
nell’accettazione della necessità universale stessa. Nel secolo seguente
abbiamo la concezione di Kant, con la sua distinzione tra leggi della
necessità, che regolano i fenomeni dell’Universo naturale, e le leggi morali o
leggi della libertà. Per «l. morale» si deve intendere, secondo Kant, la
facoltà di adeguarsi alle leggi che la nostra ragione dà a noi stessi. Noi
possiamo dunque scegliere tra il seguire la causalità empirica, che rende il
nostro volere eteronomo, e l’obbedire alla legge morale che, esprimendo
l’essenza più profonda del nostro Io, rende il nostro volere autonomo e, così,
libero. E come l’essenza profonda del nostro essere è la l., così all’origine
dell’intero Universo che alla scienza si presenta determinato, è il libero
volere di un Essere intelligente, che ordina teleologicamente ciò che alla
conoscenza scientifica appare invece meccanicamente causato. La l. come
autonomia morale dell’uomo e sua intima dignità è il grande concetto che Fichte
svolge, riprendendolo da Kant. Al concetto, elaborato da alcuni scolastici, di
«l. o arbitrio d’indifferenza» (facoltà di volere, immotivatamente o
indifferentemente, l’una o l’altra di due cose contrarie o anche nessuna delle
due), che, non sapendo o non potendo risolvere la propria indifferenza, resta
in fondo un’inerte possibilità d’azione, Hegel oppone un concetto più concreto
della l., quello della l. come autodeterminazione e intima spirituale
necessità. Al determinismo positivistico reagiscono tutte le filosofie del «ritorno
a Kant», intese a salvare la l. della condotta morale. E, nel quadro del
ritorno all’idealismo classico dei primi decenni dell’Ottocento, i movimenti
neohegeliani insistono sulla hegeliana coincidenza di l. e necessità,
rinnovando la polemica contro il mero arbitrio o l. d’indifferenza. Il rifiuto
della concezione hegeliana della l. come processo speculativo della ragione
universale distingue invece il pensiero di Marx, che identifica la l. con un
processo di liberazione economica, politica e sociale volto ad affrancare
l’uomo dal bisogno e dalla lotta di classe e a creare le condizioni per una
concreta autorealizzazione materiale e spirituale. Per tutt’altra via passa
l’opposizione all’hegelismo intrapresa dal contingentismo, per il quale nella
l. è da vedere anzitutto indeterminazione; e spontaneità, piuttosto che
autodeterminazione, cioè autonomia, è la l. per la filosofia dello «slancio
vitale» (Bergson). Nell’esistenzialismo la l. viene a coincidere con la stessa
necessità della situazione, di fronte alla quale l’uomo non ha altra scelta che
accettarla consapevolmente o piombare nella «esistenza inautentica», come in
Heidegger. In L’essere e il nulla Sartre sostiene che l’uomo è «essenzialmente»
libero di scegliere, in quanto sua caratteristica è la «mancanza», il «nulla»
di essere, ed è perciò continuamente teso alla scelta di possibilità
esistenziali. L’equivalenza, di qui derivante, di tutte le scelte viene
tuttavia eliminata nelle opere successive. Il dibattito
contemporaneo. Il significato politico-giuridico del concetto di l. è al centro
del dibattito contemporaneo. Particolarmente influente è stata a questo
riguardo la distinzione espressa da Berlin fra l. negativa e l. positiva, fra
l. da e l. di: la prima concerne l’area entro la quale una persona è o dovrebbe
essere lasciata fare o essere ciò che è in grado di fare o essere senza
interferenze da parte di altre persone. La seconda riguarda l’area in cui si
situa la fonte del controllo e dell’interferenza che può determinare che
qualcuno faccia o sia una cosa piuttosto che un’altra. La l. negativa
corrisponde alla l. dei ‘moderni’ di Constant, che ne definisce appunto il
senso e il valore nella celebre contrapposizione con la l. degli ‘antichi’;
essa è l’indipendenza individuale difesa da J.S. Mill: il soggetto della l.
negativa è l’individuo, e l’arena della l. negativa è circoscritta da un
confine che, per quanto mobile e variamente tracciato, separa la sfera
‘privata’ dalla sfera ‘pubblica’, la sfera individuale da quella collettiva.
L’assenza di vincoli o interferenze va quindi interpretata principalmente come
assenza di vincoli o interferenze da parte dei detentori di autorità legittima,
che è tale se e solo se non viola o viola il meno possibile l’autonomia
individuale. Contro la distinzione analitica dei due concetti di l. si è
espresso Rawls nella sua teoria della giustizia come equità. La l. o, meglio,
il sistema delle l. è oggetto del primo principio di giustizia. Esso prescrive
che il sistema delle l. sia per ciascuno il più ampio possibile,
compatibilmente con il sistema delle l. di ciascun altro. Nella prospettiva di
Rawls, la massimizzazione del sistema delle l. individuali è prioritaria
rispetto a quanto prescritto dal secondo principio di giustizia, il cosiddetto
principio di differenza, che deve modellare le istituzioni responsabili della
distribuzione di una classe particolare di risorse, considerate come beni
sociali primari spettanti a tutti i cittadini. Accettare la priorità
dell’eguale sistema delle l. implica accettare un principio di equità nella
distribuzione dei beni sociali primari, in quanto un eguale sistema di l. non
ha, di regola, eguale valore per individui diversamente dotati. Proponendo un
ordinamento fra l. ed equità, espresso dalla priorità del principio di l. sul
principio di differenza, Rawls ha di mira la soluzione di un conflitto fra la
l. e un altro valore sociale quale l’uguaglianza. A questa prospettiva, e ai
suoi importanti sviluppi ad opera di Sen e di Dworkin, si contrappone
radicalmente la tesi sui diritti negativi propria della teoria libertaria. In
partic., Nozick ha confutato la pretesa di teorie della giustizia distributiva
di proporre criteri o modelli di distribuzione giusta. Se ci si basa
sull’assegnazione di valore intrinseco alla l. individuale, qualsiasi precetto
distributivo è inaccettabile perché non può che violare la l. individuale
stessa. Nella più recente controversia nell’ambito della teoria normativa, il
conflitto distributivo ha finito per lasciare spazio ad altro tipo di
conflitto, il conflitto di identità o conflitto per il riconoscimento. E
questioni relative all’assegnazione di valore alle l. si sono così connesse a
questioni di riconoscimento di nuove identità o di identità prima escluse, a
questioni di inclusione in o esclusione da comunità di ‘pari’ dai differenti
confini.Elzeviro Catalfamo. Il personalismo di Catalfamo. Giuseppe
Catalfamo. Keywords: metafisica della libertà, il concetto di persona, la
transubstanziazione dell’umano nella persona, identita personale, il concetto
di persona, pronome personale, la prima persona duale --, il ‘noi’ -- Refs.:
Luigi Speranza, “Grice e Catalfamo” – The Swimming-Pool Library.
Grice e Catena: l’implicatura
conversazionale della logica matematica -- logica arimmetica – la base
arimmetica della metafisica – filosofia veneziana -- filosofia italiana – Luigi
Speranza (Venezia).
Filosofo italiano. Grice: “I love Catena – of course he thought he was being an
Aristotelian – and the confusing title he gave to his philosophising – Universa
loca Aristotelis’ would have you think that – but he is a thorough Platonist –
consider ‘pulcher’ as applied to Alicibiades – but ‘pulcher’ gives ‘pulchrum,’
an universal --!” Precursore della rivoluzione scientifica rinascimentale, indaga
i rapporti tra matematica, logica e filosofia, occupando la stessa cattedra in
seguito occupata da Galilei. Filosofo, eccellente conoscitore del latino. Lettore
pubblico di metafisica a Padova. Gli succedettero Moleti, poi Galilei. Pubblica a Venezia “Universa loca in logica
Aristotelis in mathematicas disciplinas” -- la raccolta dei brani delle opere
aristoteliche che riconoscevano il prevalente carattere speculativo del sapere
matematico, tema a cui dedicò anche un'altra opera. Altre opere: “Super loca mathematica
contenta in Topicis et Elenchis Aristotelis”; “Astrolabii quo primi mobilis
motus deprehenduntur canones” (Padova, Fabri); “Oratio pro idea methodi” (Padova,
Percacino). Agostino Superbi, Trionfo glorioso d'heroi illustri, et eminenti
dell'inclita e marauigliosa città di Venetia, per E. Deuchino. Domus Galilæ Biografia
universale antica e moderna; ossia, storia per alfabeto della vita pubblica e
privata di tutte le persone che si distinsero per opere, azioni, talenti, virtù
e delitti; Catalogo breve de gl'illustri et famosi scrittori venetiani (Rossi);
Le filosofie del Rinascimento, B. Mondadori); Alle radici della rivoluzione
scientifica rinascimentale: sui rapporti tra matematica e logica. Con
riproduzione dei testi originali, Domus Galilæana. On
this subject, Catena writes two works, in one of which, Universa Loca in Logica
Aristotelis in Mathematicas Disciplinas (Venezia), he tries to supply the lost
mathematical basis for Aristotle's theory of demonstration as explained in the
Posteriora Analytica. Dizionario biografico degli italiani. Della sua vita si conoscono pochissimi elementi:
nacque a Venezia nel 1501; lettore di matematiche presso l'università di Padova
(la stessa cattedra che occupò più tardi Galileo Galilei). Morì di peste a
Padova. L'importanza storica del C. consiste nel fatto che egli fu uno dei
primi, nel sec. XVI, a porsi il problema della valutazione formale ed
epistemologica della matematica euclidea, naturalmente dal punto di vista della
logica e della filosofia aristoteliche, inserendosi in tal modo autorevolmente
nella quaestio de certitudine mathematicarum che a metà del Cinquecento impegnò
noti autori dell'università padovana, come Francesco Barozzi ed Alessandro
Piccolomini, nell'ambito del più vasto dibattito europeo sulla methodus delle
scienze. ADVERTISING A questo riguardo assumono particolare importanza
tre sue opere: Universa loca in Logicam Aristotelis in mathematicas disciplinas
(Venetiis); Super loca mathematica contenta in Topicis et Elenchis Aristotelis;
Oratio pro idea methodi (Patavii). Nelle prime due il C. svolse un'analisi
formale della matematica euclidea attraverso la quale concluse per una sua
differenza strutturale, e quindi per una sua autonomia logica ed
epistemologica, nei confronti della logica sillogistica aristotelica, basandosi
principalmente sulla constatazione che le dimostrazioni matematiche non
appartengono al genere tradizionale delle cosiddette demonstrationes
potissimae, e giungendo ad affermare decisamente che la scienza matematica si
differenzia nettamente da qualsiasi scienza di tipo aristotelico. La differenza
metodologica che distingueva la matematica euclidea dalle restanti scienze in
uso nel Cinquecento venne posta in rilievo dal C. nella terza opera, ove
affermò chiaramente il legittimo costituirsi della matematica come metodo
scientifico autonomo, intervenendo così costruttivamente nel dibattito sulla
methodus, che ancora si trascinava in quegli anni, e contribuendo soprattutto
alla creazione di un clima culturale favorevole alla rivoluzione scientifica galileiana
con l'ampliare notevolmente la prospettiva gnoseologica tradizionale.
Oltre alle citate, il C. scrisse diverse altre opere: Astrolabii quo primi
mobilis motus deprehenduntur canones (Patavii), che costituisce una correzione
ed un aggiornamento di un'altra opera anonima, che fu pubblicata a Venezia, e
che tratta dell'uso pratico del noto strumento astronomico; Sphaera (Patavii),
un trattato di astronomia, redatto probabilmente ad uso degli studenti, in cui
viene esposto il sistemato tolemaico, e che, pur basandosi naturalmente su
trattati analoghi, allora notoriamente numerosi, rappresenta l'opera
astronomica più compiuta del C.; Procli Diadochi Sphaera (Patavii), traduzione
del noto trattato del matematico e filosofo neoplatonico; De primo mobili
librum singularem; Ephemerides annorum XII; De calculo astronomico libros II;
queste tre ultime sono citate dal Papadopoli e dal Poggendorff senz'altra
indicazione e non se ne è rintracciato alcun esemplare. Nel corso della
sua attività accademica, il C. trattò successivamente del primo e del settimo
libro degli Elementi di Euclide, della Sphaera del Sacrobosco. della teoria
dell'astrolabio, della geografia di Tolomeo, dell'astronomia del sistema
tolemaico, e, probabilmente delle "meccaniche" di Aristotele, come
viene affermato da Baldi, che fu suo allievo, e da lui stesso in una sua opera
(Universa loca); Papadopoli, Historia Gymnasii Patavini, Venetiis; Cinelli
Calvoli, Biblioteca volante..., Venezia; Riccardi, Biblioteca matematica ital.
dalla origine della stampa, Modena; Favaro, I lettori di matematiche
nell'univers. di Padova…, in Istituto per la storia dell'Università di Padova,
Memorie e docum. per la storia della Università di Padova, Padova, Giacobbe, La
riflessione metamatematica di P. C., in Physis; Id., La riflessione
epistemologica rinascimentale: le opere di P. C. sui rapporti tra matematica e
logica, con riproduzione dei testi originali, Pisa; Ch. G. Jocher, Allgemeines
Gelehrten-Lexicon, ad Indicem; Nouvelle Biogr. Universelle, ad Indicem;Biogr.
Universelle; British Museum, General Catalogue of Printed Books; Poggendorff,
Biogr.-Lit. Handw. z. Gesch. d. ex. Wissensch., ARTIVM ET THEOLOGIAE DOCTOR,
PROFESSOR PVBLI. CVS ARTI VM LIBERALIVM IN GYMNASIO PATAVINO, SVPER LOCA
MATHEMATICA contenta in Topicis et Elenchis Aristotelis nunc et non antea, in
lucem ædita. ka CVM PRIVILEGIO, LOLOTILLON 0 V ENETIIS Apud Cominum de Tridinum
Montisferrati. C. DOMINICO MONTE. SORO DOCTORI MEDL song CO EXCELLENTISSIMO
OPICORVM libri din Elenchorum Aristotelis quædamloca obscuriuſću la contincbant
qnæ apud Gręcos philofophos erant in primis clara, & per ea co tera loca
maiori difficulta ti inherentia declaraban tur, ob id autem illis con tingit,
quod veritatis amatores & philoſophiæ principes videri apud exteras
nationes cupiebant, quod & re ipfa tales exiſtimarentur, niſi furto å
Caldeis, egiptijs, & alijs abſtuliſſent, id autem, alįe na ſua feciſſe,
vitio non omni ex parte abeſt, La tini vero quidam auaritiæ fine præſtituto(latinos
hoc loco voco cos qui litteris illisRomanis, vel voce, vel etiam fcriptis ſuos
conceptus explicant) philoſophiæ extremis partibus ita incumbunt A vt ſemper
lutuoli,verlantesin excrementa naturæ appareant, quod quidem laude dignum
effet,fi vt præclară prolem, quemadmodú boni viri faciunt aliqui egros
inuiſerent, quo igiturme uerterem in inuio, non erat conſilium,ničí Reuerendus
domi nus Laurentius Venetus ex nobis familia foſca. rena Canonicus Veronenſis,
virum Dominicum Monteſorum Gręca ambitione & auaritia immu nem oftenderet,
cui hæc noſtra loca immo Ari ſtotelis declarata dedico, quæ fi Aristotelis fco
pum attigerint, vt exiſtimo & tibi fore grata co gnouero ad reliqua
philoſophiæ Ariſtotelis loca declarandanon piger animus noſter erit, quod fi
minus,cenſoriam amicorum virgam nonfugiet hæc noftra expoſitio,interimmegratum
habeas. Vale. IN PRIMO CAPITE PRIMI LIBRI TOPIC ORVV M. I DETV Ř autem hic
modus differre à dictis ſyle logiſmis nequeenim ex veris, &primis ratioci
natur pſeudographus,neque ex probabilibus, nem in deffinitionem non cadit;
neque enim quæ omni. bus videntur accipit, neque quæ plurimu i,neque qnæ
fapientibus, & his neque omnibus neque plu. rimum, neque probatiſſimis; ſed
ex proprijs quidem alicuiſcientie fumptis,non tamen veris ſyllogiſmumfacit,nam
vel.eo quod femi circulos deſcribit non vt oportet, vel eo quòd lineas aliquas
dicit non vt ducendæ ſunt paralogiſmum facit. VNC textum declarant Greci, &
Latini vſque ad locum illum quo Ariſtoteles exemplo vtitur Geometrico,ad quem
locum pręclari expoſitores cum per uenerint Tantis Tinebris vinctum loris,
& funibus reliquerunt Ariſtotelem, vt ab Alexandri tempore(vo reor) vſque
modo, omnes qui illas preclaras interpretationes legea rint, illius loci
notitia priuati fint, quos prçclaros expoſitores pro prio ſuo citarem nomine,
vt amatores Aristotelis eos cauerent vt infames ſcopulos acróceraunię, fed eos
prçtereo vt in hacparte inu liles, line Geometria logiculos, legantfine liuore
& vafricia expo fitores illius lociomnes, & has noftras declarationes
non quidem criſpis naribus, ſubinde iudicent,fi intellexerint, quanti ingenö
fuit, ficut in cæteris ipſe Aristoles, hæc citra in Alatas buccasdixiſſe ve lim,
quiſquevt intelligat, fed vt litterarum aliquando illuſores re primantur
pariterque eorum indocta audatia, fufcipiatur igitur recta linea, a bquę
feccetur quomoçunque contingat in puncto c, & ſuper vtranearī a ccb,
ſemicirculus,non vt primīī petitū docet, facto d centro vnius & e alterius
deſcribatur perperā ſemicirculus a h c,alter chb, quiſeſe Tangantin puncto h
ſuſcipiaturque centrū huius ſemicirculiah cipſum d, illius autem ch b ſit
centrum e, a punctis igitur d; & e,ſemicirculorum centris ducantur duæ
lineæ ad h contactum, & intelligatur Triangulus d he, quoniam autem 3 5
dur'lineædc & dhexeunta centro ad circunferentiam ipfæ per dif finitionem
circuli funt æquales, pariter per eandem definitionem duæ lineæ ec & ehſunt
æquales, duæ igiturdc & ce duabus d h & eheruntæquales, duæ autem ille
dc, ceſuntvnum latus trian guli dhe,ergo vnum latus d e trianguli d heeft
æquale duobus la ceribus eiuſdem triangulidh & e h,quod eſt impoſsibile
contra vi gefimam primi elemērorum Euclidis,duo enim latera omnis trian guli
quomodocunque ſumpta, ſunt maiora reliquo & non æqua lia, vtpſeudographo
ſyllogiſmo machinabátur proteruus,hocau. cem vitium non ex coprouenerat qex
falfis fyllogiſmus fic con fectus,quia ex veris, & immediatis, &
exeodem ſcientię genere, vt ex definitione 17 primi elementorum ſyllogiſthus
affectus eſt,ſed error atque peccatum proceſsit ex co ofemicirculos defcribit
non vt oportet, quod notauit nobiliſsimus geometra Ariſtoteles, fic 1 a 6
etiamhi qui falfo fyllogizant,vnum fatus trigonimaius eſſe duo bus reliquis
trigoni lateribus, no vt oportet femicirculos diſcriben tes, fic.n.linca a b
& puncta in ea ſuſcipiantur cd & circa vtranq ac, &db, rectam
ſemiciruli deſcribantur fe inuicem tangentes in puncto e alter a ec cuius
centrum f,reliquus bed cuius centrum g, &a centro fprotrahatur recta fe
fimiliter a punctog protraliatur gerecta, tunc triangulusfe g habebit latus f g
maius duobus lateribusfe, & ge, quod fic perſuadetur,lineafc eft æqualis
lineæf e cum vtraque exeat,a centro ad circunferentiam, fimiliter linca g deft
æqualis geeadem ratione, fi igitur c d linea addatur lineis fc, & dg,
equalibusfe & gcefficiunt linea fg latus trigoni fe gma jusduobus lateribus
fe, & ge quod eſt impoſsibile per 20 primi clemcntorum,vel eo q lincas
aliquas ducit non vi ducendæ funt d g paralogiſmum facit, ſi ducatur linea a
centro fad centrum g, illa non tranfibit per contactum e,vtin hac fecunda
figura apparet, ve linea abf,in g,non tranſit per punctum e vt oporteret, per
xi tertij clementora Euclidis, fi duo circuli fe contingunt & acentro ynius
ad centrum akerius recta ducatur linea illa de neceſsitate applicabi tur
contractui, ex mala igiturdeſcriptione attulit Ariſtoteles exem plum de
ſyllogiſmo falſigrapho, qui oſtenſiuo fyllogiſmo oppo. Situs eft. Similiter
vero e ſi cubilali magnitudinepoſita dixe rit, quod ſuppofitum eft cubitalem
magnitudinem ere, eo quid eft dicit, & quantum fignificat. RES duorum
generum propinquorum continuiatas diſcre. ti vnius tamen generis remoti
&analogi, quantitatis videlicet, in vnacubitali magnitudine
continetur,obid, duodicit, qui magnicu dinem cubitalem,effe magnitudinem duorum
cubitorum, &quid, quando dicit magnitudinem, et quantum, quando
dicit,cubitorum duorum, hinc manifeftum eft in ynoquod prædicamento reperiri
quid,vthoc Ariſtotelis exemplo patet demagnitudine,aliud eft no tandum, quomodo
vnum accidens,vt duorum,quod ad Arithme ticam pertinet,accidere
magnicudini,quod ad Geometriam attineta. QVAEDAM enim statim &nominibus
alia ſunt,vtacu to in voce contrarium eſt graue, in magnitudine autem, acuto,
obtufum contrarium est. Multiplicita - tem huius vocis # (acutumdemon Itrat
Ariſtoteles, quia et angulum norar, & vocem, # US Angulus accutus
rectominor & contrarius eft obruſo, &voxac cuta graui vociopponitur, et
graui contrariatur accutum in voce, leue in ponderibusgraui oppugnāt. Sed
dubitatur,cum quantitati nihil fit contrarium, quo pacto acuto angulo obtufus
contrarius fit? Dico quod angulus noneft quantitasfed ex quantitate quan.
titati adiuncta proueniens accidit quãtitati vt fit accata vel obtuſa
pariterque pondus &lauitas funt quidem magnitudiniadiuncta, fed no eſ
pondus,et leuitas, quatitas, ſi contraria fint leue et graue. cantus IPSIvero
queà conſiderando eft, quòd diameter cofta incom menfurabile, nihil.
DEincommenfurabilitate coſtæ cum diametro abunde faris in pofterioribus
declaraui,quantum vero adhunc locumattinet, Art ſtoteles inquit, non effe
quippiam oppofitum ipfi incommenſura bilitaci,vrpura commenfurabilitas, inter coftam
atque diametrum quadrati nihil contrarij eft,dubitatur,cum in præcedenti textu,
ſit de terminatum,& ea quęaddita eránt magnitudini, vt pondus & leui
tas contrariarentur,hæc autem quæ magnitudini coſtę & diainetro,
vtincommenſurabilitas, non contrarietur commenſurabilitati? Reſpondeo, prius
dicta cótraria pondus et leue in naturalibus reppe riebantur,hæcautem
incommenſurabilitas in abſtractis geometria cis; Præterea, nonfuit dictum omnia
quæ in magnitudinibus re periuntur eſſe contraria,Pręterea & li opponanturcommenſurabi
liincommenſurabile,non tamen contraria ſunt, vel etiam fi contra ria fint,non
tamen ratione ſubſtractorum,quçſuntquantitates,co fta & diameter, contraria
effe dicuntur, potus enim fitinon eft nifi quodammodo contrarius, delectatio
autem, quæ ex potu prouenit opponitur contrarie triſtitiæ, quæ prouenit ex
fiti, Præterea graue & leweſuntabſoluta quædam in diuerfis ſubiectis poſita
ſeorfim, incommenſurabilitas autem relatio eft; quæ indiſcriminatim funda tur
in coſta,ad diametrum & in diainetro ad coftam. CON SIMILITER autem et
acutum,nam non eodem mo do in omnibus idem dicitur,nam vox acuta quidem velox,quemad
modum quidem dicunt ſecundum numeros armonici. NOTA dignnm eft hocloco
conſiderandum, a vox hoc lo co non accipienda eft pro humana voce tantum, ſed
pro ſono, qui quidem fita cordulis inſtrumentorum, nam gratilior corda fitan
gatur plures aeris percuſsiones facit quain crafsior cordula, fiea dem vi
moueatur, modo inter percuſsiones multas aeris cordulæ gratilioris ad
percuſsiones cordulæ craſsioris fi inultitudine repere ris duplam,diapaffon, fi
fefqualteram, diapente, fi vero epitritam diateſaron, vt aiunt Armonici
continentiam inuenies, quia tamen Ariſtoteles de generatione animalium libro
quinto capite feptimo pucat concinentiam fieri ex alia caufa quam ex
proportione illo, rum ſonorum numeratorum ad alios fonos numeratos,vt pytha.
gorici volunt, ideodicit quemadmodum quidem, vt dicuntarmo nici, quia fententia
Ariſtotelis alia atque diuerfa eft ab illis armoni cis, qui Pythagoræ affentiri
videbantur. ET quòd pun&tusin linea do vnitas in numero, nam vtrun. que eft
principium. PRÍNCIPIV M lineæ punctus, principium autem nu merivnitas eſt, ſed
punctus non componitlineam alős punctis ap pofitus,vtin pofterioribus
demonftraui,vnitas vero cuin alñs vni tatibus numeruin conftituunt atque
componunt, principium tamé lineç atque finis,punctus eſt ex cuius fluxu linea
fit vt Ariſtoteles in mechanicis & ego in diſcurſu geminico determinaui,
non tamen linea ex punctis conſtat, VEL duplicis & dimidij. AN ſit ne
eadein diſciplina duplicis atque dimidă conſiderare oportet, quod profecto
allerere videtur ex capire de relatiuis, cum nemo ſciat duplum,niſi cuius ſit
duplum ſciueric, quod diinidium eft, fi pro relatiuis vtrunque ſuſcipiatur. HOC
autem non ſemper faciendum, fed quando non facile pojumus communem in omnibus
vnam rationem dicere, quemad modum Geometra quòd triangulus duobus rectis æquos
isabet tres angulos. NVLLI id in controuerſiam venit, an omnis triangulus ha
beat tres angulos duobus rectis æquales, ſed illud dubium eft,an id quod
rectilineumeft,habens angulos duobus rectis æqualis,trian gulus ſir, velquid horuin
in plus fe habeat, & non fit vtrunque ſe cundum q ipſum, ſed vniuerſalius
fit, habereangulos duobus reo Ctis æquales, atque comunius,an potius triangulum
effe, ad quam dübitacionein, dico quod duobusrectis pates habere angulos, eſt
quid communius, quam efſetrigonum, id autem inanifeſtum eſt de pentagono, cuius
quodlibet latus, duo ex reliquis lateribus fec cat latera, id autem per primam
partem 32, primiElementorum bis fumptam & per fecundam partem eiuſdem zz.
ſemel ſum pram, vt in figura ſubſcripta deduci facile eft, & fi habere tres
çqua les duobus rectis conuertatur cum trigono,non tamen habere om nes angulos
equales duobus rectis,conuertitur cum effe trigonuir. Dico igitur, quod habere
omnes angulos equales duobus rectis,co mune eſt ipſi trigono, & pentagono,
cuiusvnum latus ſeccat duo ex reliquis latera, habet tamen penthagonus quinque
equales tri bus, qui tres duobus rectis pares funt, & fic figuramihabentem
B omnes angulos duobusrectis pares communius eft, quam fit trian gulus, non
igitur eſt affectio trianguli neque angulorum triangu. li, fed quid communius
trigono, vel tribus angulis trigoni, non eft igitur eius proprium,quod
videturfoluere dubium fuper textu mo tum,fed affectio trianguli eft habere
tantum tres equales duobus rectis,velęqualitas duobus rectis, conuenit tribus
angulis figuræ triangulari, & non omnes angulos, elle çquales duobus
rectis. VEL pt buius a fecundum lechu ius ſecundum acci dens, vt fecundum Se
quidem quòd tri angulus duobus re b Etis æquales habeat tres angulos, ſecun. dum
accidens autē, quòd æquilaterus, quoniam enim acci dit triangulo,& qui.
laterum effe trian gulum, perhocco gnoſcimusquòdduo bus reétis habeat internos.
QVIDAM interprætes fic perperam exponunt Ariſtotele, quod habere tres duobus
rectis pares,ipfi triangulo per ſe infit,ipfi vero Iſoſcheli cõuenit quidem
habere tres duobus rectis parcs, ſed non per ſe,ſed per accidens, fic vt hæc
predicatio, Iloſcheles habet tres duobusrectispares, ſit accidentalis,hec
quidem ſua interprę. tatio & nulla eſt, &nullo modo ad Ariſtotelis
textum facit, quod nulla fit, & falfa, manifeſtum eſt ex capite de per fe
in poſteriori. bus, quia quod enim ſuperiori per fe ineft &inferiori
pariter per ſe ineſt, ineſt tamen ſuperiori perfe & primo, inferioriautem,
per ſe fed non primo. Aliter igitur exponendus venit is textus, primo igitur
aduertendum quod circa idem ſubiectum fit prædicatio per fé & per accidens,
vtpura circa triangulum, per fe quidem fic, tri angulus habet tres duobus
rectis pares, per accidens vero ſic, trian gulus eſt Iloſcheles; vbi
aduertendum,vtin præcedentibus libris declarauit Ariſtoteles,omne inferius ſuo
ſuperiori accidens eſt,cum abeffentia fuperioris omnino fecludatur inferius,
& vt alienum a fui natura ſibi conueniat. SIQVIS infecabiles ponens lineas,
indiviſibile genus earum dicat eſſe, nam linearum habentium diuifionem non eft
quod di Etum eſt genus, cumſint indifferentes ſecundum ſpecicm, indiffe-,
rentes enim ſibi inuicem fecundum fpeciem rectæ lineæ omnes. TRACTATVS quidem
de lineis infecabilibus extat,e greco latinitati donatus quem Ariſtotelis
quidem effe exiſtimant, tametfi Georgii pachimerñ nonnulli effe dicunt, quod,
quia cuiuf cunque fuerit,non facit ad expofitionem litteræ affequendam, me rito
prætermitto auctorem fore inueſtigandum,vt Ariſtotelis decla rationi
infiftamus, pro quo in memoriam reuocandī eft id, quod Porphyrius habet,
ſuperius genus de inferioribus ſpeciebusneceſe, fario predicari, quod fi de
illis non prædicauerit,neque ad illas, illud eſſe genus manifeſtum erit, quapropter
fiquis inſecabiles poſuerit lineas,atque ad illas genus id, quod eft
indiuifibile,effe dicat,ftatim in contradictionem reducitur,ob id, quia,diuiſibile,genus
eſſe ad li ncas conſtat,modo lineas omnes eandem deffinitionem ſuſcipien.
tes,eiufdem ſint fpetiei, fieri autem nequit, vt aliqua eiuſdem ſint ſpeciei,
& genere fint diuerfa, quod quidem contingeret, fi indiuifi bile,ad lineas
aliquas, genus effe diceretur,tunc enim indiuiſibile di ceretur de lineis
infecabilibus p hypothefim cũ fic ſupponatur (fal ſo tamen ) ad illas eſſe
genus, & etiam de alñs, quæ per 10. primi Elementorum ſecabiles ſunt cum
etiam adillas ſit genus, quod qui dein efle, nullo modopoteft, propter
contradictionem, ET ſi differentiam ingenere poſuit tam quimſpeciem,vt im par
quidem numerum, Differentia quidem numeri, impar, & non ſpeties eſt, neque
videtur participare differentia genus,nam omane quod eft, genus, velfpeties,
vel indiuiduum eſt, differentia autem, neque fpeties, neque indiuiduum,
manifeftum igitur quoniam non participat genus differentia, quare neque
imparopetieserit, fed differentia quoniamnon participat genus. B ñ 9 tra NVMERV
S quieſt ex vnitatibus profuſa multitudo,paro; titur in numeruin imparem,
&in numerum parem, vel perhas differentias diuiditur, quę ſunt, paritas,
& imparitas, quarum neu includit numerum, qui genus eſt ad omnes numeri
ſpecies,& fi ifta vera fic,rationale et animal, quando ly rationale
accipitur pro Specie, quæ homo eft, & non pro rationalitate in abſtracto,
qux eſt hominis conſtitutiua differentia,eodem modo, & numerus prædi catur
de pari in concreto & non de abſtracta paritare, hęcenin & fimiles
illi, ſunt ſemper falle, paritas eſt numerus, vel imparitas eſt
numerus,quodquia oinnia manifeſta, & nora Ariſtoteles cíle vo. luit,
exemplo arithmetico declarauit, A 11 PLIVS ſi genus in petie pofirit, vt
contiguitatem id ipſum quod eſt continuitatem, non enim neceſſariuin contingui.
tatem continuitaternelle, led e conuerſo, continuitatem contigui tatem non enim
omne contiguum continuatur, led quod cortina tür contigurn eft. CONTINVVM illum
effe dico cuius partes copulantur ad terminuin vnum communem, qui quidem
terminus elt tantuin potentia inter illas partes ipſius continui, nõ etiam
actu, &opere, vt linea lineæ continuatur per punctum, qui non actu exiſtit,
ſed tantum potentia inter illas duas lineas, velinter duas partes linex, quod
& de partibus ſuperficiei, quæ per lineam in potentia copu lantur,
&corporis partes, per ſuperficiem in potentia, Contiguum autein illud effe
dico, quod alteri applicatur & iungitur non per mediuin potentia
exiſtens,fed per mediuin quod actu & opere exi 1tit, vt manifeſtum eſt de
cæleſtibus orbibus, concaua eniin ſuperó ficies ſuperioris orbis augem
defferentis, & fuperficies connexa or bis differentis epy ciclum ſunt due
ſuperficies actu exiſtēres inedia, per quas continguantur adinuicem illi orbes,
non tamen continu: antur adinuicem: Cælum primū continuum quoddam eſt, &
con. tiguaru: Cælo nono ſecundum fuperficiem concauam ipfius pri mi mobilis
actu exiſtentem,non tamen fequitur, primum mobile eſt contiguum cum nona ſphera,
igitur continuum eſt cum nona iphera,quemadmodī non fequitur, quinque digiti
adinuicem funt contigui, igitur quinque digiti ſunt continui, ſed bene ſequitur,
quinque digiti ſunt continui, igiturquinque illi digiri ſunt conti gui, vt
quando clauditur manus, vel manus aperiatur quinæ digi zi aeri ſunt contigui,vel
aquç contigui, li in anforæ aquam inanum ponas, vel etiain cirotececontiguantur,
& ratio eft, quia vnum quodque naturale corpus, alteri contiguatur, ne vacuum
daretur in natura. CONSIDERAN DV M autem eſt, fi quod translatiue. dictum eſt,
ut genus aſsignauit,vt temperantiam, confonantiam, nam omnegenus proprie
deſpeciebusprædicatur,conſonantia ve. ro detemperantia,non proprie,fed
translatiue, omnis enim confo Wantia in ſonis eft. CONSONANTIA eſt diſsimilium
vocum acuti gra. uiſque in vnum redacta concordia, quæ fine ſono, quę aeris
percuſ fio eft fieri nullo modo poteſt, illa autem confonantia quæ transla tiue
dicitur, quæ effrenatam libidinem moderat, non quidem a ſo no, quæ eft aeris
percuſsio, fed illa quidem eſt, quæ a concordia diſsimilium dicitur, hæc autem
non neceſſario in Conis reperitur, vt eſt illa ſupercæleſtis Armonia, quæ nil
aliud eſt, quam coeleſtium motuumdiuerſorum,in vnam munditotius conſeruationem
apta concordia, quam celebrant quidem illi ſapientes pythagorei, quos gratis in
libris de cælo redarguit Ariſtoteles, quam armoniam di ces illam effe de
quaMarcus Tullius in 6 derepublica, cui de ſoin. no Scipionis nomen indidit,
docte meminit, hanc quidein dico nul lo modo conſtare in fonis, ſed illam quam
libro primo capite deci mumtertio & in hoc capite tetigit Ariſtoteles. AVRSV
M ji non ad idem dicitur fpecies 2 ſecundum ſe, da fecundumgenus, vt fi duplum
dimidiy dicitur duplum o multi plum dimide oporter dici, li autem non, non erit
multiplam genus cupli, abundansſimiliter cicitnr ſimpliciter ſecundum om. nia
fuperiora genera ad dimidium dicetur. ABVNDANS numerus is eſt, cuius partes
omnes fimul additæ in vnum exuperant totum illud cuius partes erant, vt duo,
cenarius eſt abundans, quia 6,4, 3, 1, ſiin vnum aggregentur 16 coinplent
maiorem numerum duodenario, de quo quidem abun. danti, qui eſt fimilis
centimanugiganti, non loquitur Ariſtoteles hoc loco, fed abundansillud eft,
quod ſuperius eſt ad multiplum, ad ſuperparticularem, & ſuperparrienrem,
abundans præterea,vthic accipit Ariſtoteles,eſt ad aliquid, quod etiam de
multiplici, at& lu perparticulari, & ſuperparrienti, &de omnibus
ſub illis contentis, dicitur,duplum igitur triplum,quadruplumque cummultiplun
lit & pariter vnumquodq; abundans erit, fi igitur abundansnon eſt, non
eritmultiplum,neque etiam duplum, itaque abundans vniuer lale magis quam
multiplum eft. 1 era QVONIAM autem muſicum, qua muſicum eftfciens,elle muſica
ſcientia qua eft. MVSICA enim quathenusmuſicũ effe facit, nõ quathenus cantorem,
qualitas eſt de prima qualitatis fpecie,quathenus autem ſcientia eft,
&fciens facit, relatiuum quidem eft, vt in capite ad ali quid fuit in
prædicamentis determinatum. NVMERVM diuiſibile,e conuerſo autem non,nam
diuifibi le non omne, numerus, DIVISIBILITAS non modo magnitudini ſed etiam
numero conuenit, non tamen omni numero, ſed numero tantum pari,impari autem ob
vnitatis interuëtum nequaquam, Veletiam melius erit dictu, diuifibilitas in duo
æqualia, numero tantum pari conuenire, diuiſibilitas autem fimpliciter omni
numero conuenire, id quod Ariſtoteles hoc loco velle videturdicere, ſeu in duo
æqua. lia,vel in duo inæqualia numerus ipfe diuidatur, fic vtdiuiſibilitas in
partes integrales cuilibetnumero conueniat, non diuiſibilitas in partes
aliquotas omni numero, ſed tantum numero pari conuenire eft neceffe, aduerte
etiam quod ipfinumero primo conuenit diuili. bilitas in tot partes, quot
vnitates habet;in plus igitur ideft,quod diuiſibile eft, quam id,quod numerum
eſſe, quia diuiſibile, eſt com mune ad diſcretum, quod in partes aliquotas
&in partes integran tes diuiditur etiam ad continuum,ſequitur igitur
recte,numerus eft, igitur diuiſibile, ſi diuiſibile accipiatur commune ad id,
quod in ali quotas & integrantes diuidatur partes, &non econuerſo, vt
diui fibile eft, igitur numerus, LOGICVM problema. PROBLEMA apud Euclidem eſt
propoſitio,in qua vnum datur, & aliud (vt in pluribus) quæritur, vt ſuper
datamrectam li neam triangulum collocare, linea quidem datum eſt, quefitum au
tem ef trigonum ipſum conftituendum ſuper lineam datam, ſem per enim problema
verſatur circa praxim,quapropter, problema Geometricum,eftpropofitio practica,
Theoremavero Geometri. cum,eſt ſpeculatiua propoſitio,modo Ariſtoteles non
ingnarus hu. ius duplicis fignificationis problematis Geometricc, &
logice,pro pofitionem dubiam ad vtráque partem, dixit problema logicum,
&non Geometricum debuifTe intelligi, inquit enim, logicum au tem eſt
problema,ad quod rationes fiunt, &crebræ quidē, & bong ERIT enim
ſecundum hoc bene poſitum humidiproprium, vt qui,qui dixit humidiproprium,
corpus quod in omnem figuranı ducitur, vnum aßignauit proprium, o non plura,erit
fecundum boc bene pofitum humidi propriuns. FIGURA hicaccipiatur in corpore
locante humidum,humi. dum enim cum corpus fluxibile atque dilatabile fit,
ſuſcipit quan cunque figuram a re locànte, quæ figura, feu natura, fiue
etiamarti ficis opere introducta fit, in illo vaſe locantehumidum, accipere
igitur hocmodo figuram a re locante, proprium eft ipfius humi di, & non
alterius cuiuſque, NON omne ſenſibile extra ſenſum faftum,immanifeftum eft,
latens enim eft, fi adhuc ineft, eo quòd fenfu folo cognoſciiur, erit autem
verum hoc,in his, quæ non ex neceſitate ſemper conſequun tur, vt quia, qui
pofuitſolis proprium, aštrum quod fertur fuper terram lucidiſſimum, tale vſus
eſtin proprio (ſuper terram in, quamferri) quod ſenſu cognoſcitur, non vtique
erit benefolis af fignatum proprium immanifeſtum enim erit cum occiderit ſol,
si adhuc ferratur fuper terram, eo quòd nos tunc deſeruimus fenfium. CECVS enim
huius quod eft, folem fuper terram ferri,nul. lam habet ſenſationem,ſed videns,
illius ſenſationem habet quan do folem ſuper terram in die artificiali
conſpexerit, quam primum autem fol occiderit, & fub orizonte conditus
fuerit, definit ſenſus percipere folem fuper terram ferri, fi igitur illud
proprium eſſet folis, illo deficiente, (quod contingeret nullo conſpiciente ſo
lem ferri ſuper terram ) proprio, & Sol, effe defficeret, quod quia
abſurdum, non igitur proprium eft folis eum videri ferri fuper terram, licet
femper Sol ſuper terram fereatur, id etiam, haud folis proprium eft, cum
fyderibus omnibus, Igni, Aeri ſem per conueniat, id autem quod proprium eſt,
conuenit omni foli & femper,inodo fecunda particula, (quod eft foli) non
conue nit foli, fed etiam alijs a ſole, & a fyderibus, & elementis,
conuenit; Præterea folem femper ferri ſuper Terram, & fi proprium ſolis ef
fet,illud tamen non eſt ſenſibile, led immaginatum,perceptibile,vel
intelligibile, particula tamen illa aftrum lucidiſsimum, ipfi tantum foli
conuenit, CONSTRVENTI vero, fi tale aßignauerit proprium, quod non ſenſu est
manifeſtum, aut cum ſit ſenſibile ex neceſsitate ineſe manifeftum eft,hoc
benepoſitum proprium, vt quia, qui po fuit fuperficieiproprium quòd primum
coloratum eſt, ſenſibili qui dem aliquo vfus eft (coloratum eſſe inquam) tale
quidem quod ma nifeſtum est ineſſe ſemper, erit fecundum hoc, bene aſsignatum
fit perficiei propriim. IMMEDIATVM ſubiectumn coloris fuperficies eſt, ſub.
ftantia enim colorata eſt, quia corpus coloratum,etideo corpus co loratum eft,
quia ſuum extremum eft coloratū, extreinum autem, ſeu terminus, ſub quo
corpuscontinetur ſuperficies eft, in qua im mediate color fuſcipitur, iſtud
autem proprium,non ex natura ſu perficiei profluit, fed extrinſece aduenit
color ipſi ſuperficiei, quæ quantitas quidem eſt, color, autem qualitas, fed
cum ſenſibili per fenfum percipiatur, & fecundum apprehenſionem fiat
exiſtimatio, et quia ſuperficies omnis,affecta ſit colore, ſequitur quod recte
pro prium afsignabit ſuperficiei, fiquis dixerit eain effe coloratam & erit
proprium ſuperficiei, proprium quidem ſenſibile,non tamen ex intrinſeca natura
ſuperficiei. PRIMVMergo deſtruenti quidem, infpiciédum eſt ad vnum quodque
eorum cuius proprium aßignauit, vt ſi nulli ineſt; aut fi non fecundum boc
quidem verificatur, aut fi non eſt proprium c18 iuſ que eorumſecundum illud
cuius proprium aſsignauit; non enim erit proprium,quod pofitum eſt elle
proprium, vt quia de Geome tra non verificatur indeceptibilemeſe ab oratione
(nam decipi tur Geometra cum pſeudographiäfacit ) non erit hocſcientis pro
prium, non decipi ab oratione. HIC locus videtur opponi ei quod Ariſtoteles
determinauit de Geometra primo poſteriorum,vbi ait Geometram non mentiri
concipientem 9 concipienten lineam bipedalem, quæ tamenminimebipedalis eſt, fed
fiquis recte inſpiciat,nulla certe oppoſitio apparebit, fed vtera quelocorum
mutuo ſeſe alternatim declarabit, cuinam in dubium illud venit,fępemens ynī
interne concipere, quod falax manus ex trinſece, illud peruertit: hoc quidé
prothagoręfæpe contigiffe reffe runt, vt aprehenfo, ad ſcribendum calamo,id
ſcripfiffe quod men ti fuę opponeretur, & id vitii non ſolum manui, fed
linguæ ſæpe etiam contingit, quis enim id in feipfo non eft expertus. vt quan
doque ynum ex inſperato lingua profferat, Q tamen aliter mente prius
conceperat,id autem etiam cuidam Geometræ, ſi contingar, vt perperam
ſemicirculos deſcribat veltrahat lineas,non vt opor tet (vt interiusprius mente
concepir) ficut primo topicorum capite primo fuit declaratuin,non tamen id
proprium eft Geometræ,cum non ſemper vnicuique Geometræ conueniat, ſed raſo
etiam vni accidat. SIMPLICITER igiturnotius, quod prius eſt poſteriore, vt
punctum linca, o linea ſuperficie, & ſuperficiesſolido, quem admodum vnitas
numero prius enim &principiã omnis numeris. VIDETVR hic textus contra
determinationem philoſophi primo de phiſico auditu capite de primo cognito, vbi
determinat de circulo p priino cognoſcitur, quam quod fit figura plana vna linea
contenta: pro cuius loci huius &illius intelligentia, fcire debes
deffinicum cum ignotum ſit, per deffinitionem explicatur,ipſa vero definitio
per ea quę nota ſunt, ingnotum definitummanife ftum facit, quod
Euclides,vbilineam rectam deffinit primo Elemē. torum prius punctum
explicuit,quiin deffinitionem lineæ ponere, tur, vt furt declaratum capite de
per ſe,primopofteriorum fubinde lineam per punctum, & fuperficies per
lineam, & tandem libro 11, corpus per ſuperficiem deffiniuit, quo autem
modo diuerſo ſe ha heat punctus in linea ab eo modo, quo vnitas in numero,id in
na lyticis capite de per ſe fuit manifeſtīt, ſed id in dubiữ verticur, quo nam
modo corpore ſuperficies, & fuperficie linea, &linae punétus noctiora
fint:'cīí hæc omnia apud Geometrā, & ftereometram ab ſtracte conſiderentur.
Dico quod cum abſtractione in his omnibus minor & maior fimplicitas
repperitur,vt in puncto quam in linea &fic deinceps, Adid autem de primo
phiſicorum de circulo nulla videtur oppofitio in Ariſtotelis verbis, ibi enim
de vniuerfali con fufe aprehenſo hicauté de ſinipliciori dictincte concepto
loquitut C 1 pro no OPORTET autem non latere quædam fortaſſe aliter deffi niri
non poffe, vtduplum, line dimidio. ID notandum euenit hoc loco, quod
Ariſtotiles capite de ad ali quid poft multa examinara ibidemn
determinauit,quodad aliquid non eft, cuius effe fit elle alterius, fed cuius
eile eft ad aliud quodam modo refferri, vt dupli efTe, fic eft, vt abfque
relatione ad illud cu ius eft duplum minimne poflit percipi, licet non
cognoſcat illud fub nomine & natura dimidii,ſed tantum quathenus
duplationen ter minat, quę fundatur in eo, quod illa duplatione duplum eft.
OPORTET autem ad deprehendenda talia fummere mine orationem, vt quod, dies, eſt
ſolis latio fuper terram. QVI deffiniet diem artificialem (qui incipit ab
emerſu ſolis ſu pra orizontem vſquequo accidat ) ponit in definitione lationem
ſtelle apparentis fuper terram (qui fol dicitur )nam qui die vtitur & ſole
vei neceffe eft, acquiſolem deffinir, ſtellam in die apparentem dicit, in qua
deffenitione alterius,alterum ponit eo modo quo ea, quæ ad aliquid
deffiniuntur, RVRSVS fieo quod e diuerſo diuiditur, id quod e diuerſo di
uiditur diffiniuit, vt impar eſt qui vnitate maror eſt pare, fimul enim natura,
quæ ex eodem genere e diuiſo diuiduntur, impar au. tem & parediuerſo
diuidunt,nam ambonumeri differentia. PRETER eas quas Euclidesin elementis &
Boetius primo Arithmeticæ deffitiones de impari atque,pari numero dederunt,hęc
Vna eít,qua in comparatione & non abfolute imparemnumerum in ordinead parem
deffinit fic vt neuter abfque altero intelligi que at, & alter
indeffinitione alterius ponatur,vtocto par, vnitatem imparem feptem ſuperet,
& hic fenarium parem eadem vnitate maior euadat. Duo enim funt quæ diuidunt
e diuerſo ipſum nume rum par, & impar, & in deffinitione alterius alter
ponitur,cum ad feinuicem rellatiue conſiderantur & non abfolure, SIMILITER
autem & fi per inferiora ſuperiora deffiniuit, pt parem numerum
quibipartiteſecatur, name bipartite ſuma ptumest à duobus quæ paria ſunt. HIC textus
obfcuriuſculus redditur in littera,ſenſus tamen fa. cilis eſt, ſuperius enim fi
per ſuum inferius deffinitur, vt notius fia at, fuperius hic eft quod,
bipartire ſecatur,inferius autem numerus eſt par,optime enim fequitur, hic
numerus par eft igitur, bipartite fecatur,fed fi arguas bipartite ſeccatur
igitur numerus eft,incõftans eft ifta argumentatio, neque y ſquam valida eft,
nifi intelligatur 1 numerus in confequente pro numéro numerato, vt funt etiam
ma. gnitudines, quæ nuineri ſunt, vt in pofterioribusdeciaratum eft per me, ita
vtin conſequente accipiatur numerus pro quodam comu. ni ad numerum numeratū
&ad numerum qui eſt ex vnitaubus profuſus aceruus,fic enim quod bipartitīī
par numeruseft, & ficin deffinitione ſuperioris, quod eſt bipartiri veimur
oumero pari,qui inferior eſt ad bipartiri ſimauis, bipartiri,a binario numero
capias qui binarius inferioreſtad numerum parem,cum quaternarius, & ali
quam plurrimi fint pares numeri,modoqui in deffinitione nu. meri paris vtitur
bipartiri, ille quidem in ſuperioris definitione Vtitur ſuo inferiore, AVT
rurſum qui deffinit noĉtum umbram terra. TERRA eniin cum ſit opacum corpus radë
Colaresnon pof. funt illud ingredi & vltra progredi (quod in traſparenti
aericone tingit,) ſed impediuntur a parte terræ, quæ pars ad folem reſpicit, ex
alta autem terræ parte,luminis priuatio contingit, quæ priuatio luminis folaris
fuper terram nox appellarur & cft liquis igitur no Etem definiat, fic
inquiens nox eft priuatio luininis folis ob er iæ opacitatem proueniens,
fimiliter terram quis deftiniens dicet, terra eſt corpus ex cuius opacitace nox
fit, vide quo pacto &ter am in deffenitione noctis, & noctem in
deffitione terræ & vtrun que in vtriufque deffinitione ponitur, fequuntur
quædam Ariſtore lis verba in textu de multiplici & ſubmultiplici, atque de
duplo & dimidio, quæ quia alias declarata ſunt pretereunda duxi, fed id no.
tandum eft quod in deffinitione priuatiui, vtputa noctis, ponitur poftiuum,
vtputa terra, quod etiam in multis eft aduertendum, quia non ſolum ponitur
pofitiuum,fed etiam priuatiuum, vtly pri uatio lurninis. Si autem aliquurum
complexorum aßignetur terminus, con fiderandum eft aufſerendo alterius eorum,
quæ comple & tuntur ora tionem, fi eft & reliqua reliqui, Nam fi non,manifeftum
quonia, neque tota totius, vtſi quiſpam deffinit lineamfinalem rectam fic nem
plani habentis finis, cuius medium ſuperaditur extremis, ſi finalis linca ratio
est,finis plani habētis fines recte oportet effe re liqui, cuius medium fuperadditur
extremis,fed infinita,neque me dium neque extrema habet, re &ta autem est,
quare non est relo qua reliqui oratio. ст · AVTEM quain ad expofitionem textus
deueniam primo liç terai Ariſtotelis in tralatione Argyropili et in textu
Auerois cor rigendam puto de mense Ariſtotelis ex Euclide iuxta cheonem, le
gitur enim in vtroque textu cuius medium ſuperadditur extre mis, vbi legi debet,
cuius mediuin ' non reſulta ab extremis 86 Aueroes in expofitione fic
interpretatur,cuius inedium non occu. lit duo extrema, & videtur afſentiri
ipfi Platoni deffinienti rectă, recta inquit linea eſt, cuius medium non
obumbrat extremna, cæ, terīt mens Ariſtotelis eſt, quo pacto complexum
deftiniatur often dere, vt fi homo gramaticus deffiniatur,hæcenim erit ſua
deffini tio, fíue terminus,aninal rationale mortale recte legens atque ſcri
bens, tota quippehec ratio, huic toti coplexo, nempe, homo gram
maticus,conuenit,modo liably homo, ly gramaticus aufferatur, &ab ly animal
rationale mortalely recte legens atque ſcribens, vt fic dicatur, homo eſt
aniinal rationale mortale, &gramaticus eft recte,legensatque ſcribens,
peroptime data erit deffinitio primo ipſius complexi,homo gramaticus,quod
Ariſtoteles in Geometria exemplificat,iminaginans (de mente aliorum,) planum
efle infini tum ſecundum longitudinem tantum, finitum ſecundum latitudi. nem,
quod quidein terminatur linea recta, quæ eius finis ſecundū latitudinem ellet,
modo ſiquis definiret lineam finalem rectam die cens,effe finem planihabentis (ſecundum
latitudinem ) fines,cuius (quidein finis) medium non relultat ab extreinis,hæc
particula, fi nes plani habentis fines, in definitione pofica recte conuenit
lineæ finalis, fed hæc particala, cuius medium non reſultat ab extremis,
nonconuenit illi particulæ pofitæ in complexo, quæ eſt ly recta, velly linea,
quia non conuenit niſi recrę lineç finicę, & non infi nitę, quęinfinita, vt
fupponebatur, non habet medium, neque ex. trema,ideo deffinitio ipſius
totiuscomplexi minime recte data erat quia ficut vna ablata particula in
deffinitione conueniebat ablatę particule deffiniti, non fic reliqna particula
deffinitionis conuenit relique particule complexi deffiniti, $ I autem
differentia terminum alignauit confiderandum, fi eg alicuius numerun comunis
est aſſignatus terminus, vt cum imparem numerum aliusmdium habentcm dixerit,
deter minandum est, quo pacto medium habentem, nam numerus qui dem, comunis in
vtrique rationibus eſt, imparis autem coaſſum pta eſt oratio, habent autem
&linea & corpusmedium, cum non fintimparia, quare non vtique erit
deffinitio hæc imparis. 12 IMPAR numerusin duoæqua dicendinequit ob vnitatis in
teruentum medium indiuilibilis denumerantis totum numerum cuius illa
vnitasıncdium eft, linea autem & corpus & ſi medium habeat,linca quidem
punctum medium, quod per 10 primielemen torum inuenitur fi diuidatur, &
fuperficies medium habet diame trum, illa tamen media,vt nec punctum lineam,neque
linea ſuperfi ciem dimittuntur, neque illa componunt ea, quoruin media ſunt,
determinatū igitur eft, quo pacto numerus medium habet, & quo pacto linea
atque ſuperficies, & hoc de numero iinpari intelligas, cuius inedium
interduas partes æquales,vnitas eſt, & non de pari, ficut etiam Ariftoteles
ait in textu, ex eis QV AE DA M enim ſic ſe habent ad inuicem, vt nibil ex
fiant; vt linea numerus. LINEA in lineam fiducatur vt 45 primielementorum Eucli
dis docet & prima et ſecunda; ſecundi elementorum fuperficies pro ducitur,
pariterque numerus, ſi in numerumduxeris,numerus pro ducetur, vt ex ſeptimo
elementorum manifeftum eſt, non tamen idem prouenit per additionem, quia linea
lineæ addita non facit ſur perficić, &fi hoc milliesmillienamillia addieris
adinuicemlineas, non reſultabit ſuperficies, neque fi puncta ad fe inuicem
addideris linea vnquam reſultabit, vnitas tamê li vnitatibus, velvnitati,nu.
merus (tatim reſultabit, qui acccruus eft ex vnitatibus protufus, vt etiam in
prædicamento quantitatis fuit declaratum. Avr fi eodem ab vtroque ſublato, quod
relinquitur eſt alte rum, vt ſi duplum dimidi, co multiplum dimidij idem
dixerit elje, fublato enim ab vtroque dimidio, reliquu oporteret indicare, non
indicant autem, nam duplum &multiplum non idem fignificant. VLTRA cà quæ de
duplo & multiplo libro quarto capite quarto ibi dicta ſunt,vnum illud
conſiderandum eſt, quod a nega. tionc dupli ad interremptionem multiplex fiquis
argueret commit teret conſequétis falatiam vniuerſalius enim eft ipfum multiplum
ipfo duplo, vt eft animal equo vtrunque tamen ad aliquid eft, & duplum ad
dimidium, &multiplum ad ſubmultiplum. VIDET V R autem &in diſciplinis
quædam ob definitionis deffe &tum, non facile deſcribi, vt quoniam quæ ad
latusſeccat planum linea,fimiliter diuidit &lineam &locum, definitione
au tem di&ta ftatim manifeftum eft quod dicitur,nam eandem ablatio nem
babent.loca d linea, eft autem definitio eius orationis hac. DEFFINITIO ſecunda
tertń elementorum intellectum prebet huius deffinitionis pofitæ ab Ariſtorele,
definitū eft ly linea fec cās planum, definitio eft ly linea fimi a Jiter
diuidēs lineam &lo ct, fic enim Jittera ordi netur, linea quæ ad latus
ſeccat pla num, eft li. nea diuidens lineam et locuni terminatum ab ipla linea
recta, fieri enim non po teft, vt linea ſecet planum terminatum linea, quin
il.. la linea terminans planum ſeccetur ab eadem feccante linea, id autē
manifeſtum g eft ex fecunda, tertia, & quarta definitione tertń elementorum
Euclidis, & alisexipfo tertio elemen forum, & xi fecundi, ly li. mea
quæadlatusfeccat pla num,vocatAriftoreies orationem in hocloco, vbi ait, oautem:
deffinitio eius orationis, hæc, id etiam dignī notatu cum deffinitio per genus,
& differentiam detur,loco generis in hac definitione, eſt ly linea diuidens
lineam, inodo cum linea prior fit plano, manife, ftum eft,quodde genere
dicendum erat in hac definitione, SIMPLICITER autem prima elementorum, pofitis
qui dem definitionibus (vt quid linea vel quid circulus) facillimum oftendere,
verum non multis ad vnumquodque eorum eft argumen tari, eo quòd nonſunt multa
media, ſi autem non ponanturprinci piorum definitiones,fortaſſe autem omnino
impoßibile. PRIM A elementorum hoc loco,non ſunt intelligenda princie pia, quæ
definitiones,petita,& animi conceptiones ſunt, ſed princi, pia ipſa,ſunt
propoſitiones,quæ in probleniata & theoremata diui duntur, quæ prima
elementorum, ideo dicunturcum per ipfa, quæ proponuntur in alís ſcientñs
probentur, vt quid fit linea,videlicet longitudo illatabilis, & quid linea
recta,cuius mediñ ſua ex æquali interiacet figna,tunc ſuper datam lineam rectam
triangulum colo care proponit prima, primi elementorum, & pofita
definitione cir culi per ipſam probatur triangulum ſuper datam lineam colloca.
tum effe æquilaterum, & folum perilla media videlicet definition nem
circuli 17 & primam animi conceptionem primi elemento rum, quæ definitio,
& animi conceptio fi prius non ponantur diffi cile erit oftendere, fortaſſe
omnino impoſsibile, quod triangulus conftitutus fuper datam lineam ſit
æquilaterus, 1 SIMILITER autem his & in his quæ funtcirca orationes Je habe
nt; non igitur latere oportet, quando difficilis argumenta bilis eft poſitio,quòd
eft aliquid eorumquæ di&ta funt. LINE A quidem, atque circulus ſunt quædam
incomplexa quæ diffinibantur ab Euclide deffinitione tertia & 17 primi ele
mentorum,fed linea quæ ad latus ſeccat planum, fiue linea ſeccans planum ad
latus, id totum complexum eft,atque compoſitum, & licut fieri non poterat,
vt oftenderetur æqualitas laterum trianguli, abſque definitione
incomplexicirculi, fic etiam fieri non poterit, vt quippiam de quopiam
demonftretur, quando in demonſtratione ingreditur aliquod extremum complexum,
quia tunc vtimur toto iſto tanquam principio,ly linea leccans ad latus planum,
nifi prius ipfius complexi atque orationis præierit deffinitio, quę eſt,ly
linea fimiliter diuidens lineam terminantem locum &locum, ita vtpar. ticula
illa circa orationes non intelligatur yt gramatici, & rhetores intelligunt
orationes, fed oratio, pro quodam intelligatur comple xo indiſtantitamen, hoc
eft fine copula, & verbo principali,parti cula illa, pofitio, cum inquit
Ariſtoteles quãdo difficilis eſt pofitio, non intelligitur pro petitione, feu
petito, quia petitum non eft argu mentabile,hoc eſt per argumentum
probabile,neque difficile, ne facile, cum ſit primum principium &non
probetur, fed petitio in hoc loco accipitur pro ipfa propoſitione, quæ probanda
venit, ſeu fpeculatiua,vel etiain practicafit, feu problema, vel etiam theore,
ma fuerit,et tunc talis propofitio difficile argumérabilis eft, quando inter
probandam ipſam,contingit aliquod deffiniendī, quod com plexum fit, quod nifi
delfiniatur,difficilis argumentabilis eſt propo ſitio, & fortaffe omnino
inpoſsibile, quando id quod dictum eſt contigerit,videlicet quod complexum
deffiniendum interueniat, ly fortaffe autem omnino impoſsibile in præcedenti
textu non dubi tatiue ſed magis comprobationis particula accipienda eſt. VELV T
Zenonis quòd non contingitmoneri, neque ſtadium pertranfire. PROTERVI Zenonis
eft fententia dicentis ftadium, quod octaua pars milliaris eft,pertranfiri non
polle, inter genera menſu. rarum quæ magis notæ ſunt,ftadium numeratur,quod
iuxta Ptho. Jamei ſententiã primo Geographiæ eft milliaris Italici pars octaua.
OPORT ET autem eum quibene transfert diale &tice,& non contentioſe
transferre, vt GeometramGeometricæ,fiue falſum fiue verum fit; quod
concludendum eft. DIALECTIC A trallatio eft,quæ apparens quidem eft,et
conuenientiam habet ad illam remi fecundumquam trallatio facta eft, & non
debet effe dubia,contentiofa, & fophiſtica, ſed magis ad inſtar geometræ,
qui nõ errat aliquo pacto circa ſuam materiam er formam, vt primo poſteriorum
declaraui, vel etiam quitransſeng hanc vocem triangulus, a ternario numero, et
quadratum a nunc ro quaternario propter ternarium, & quaternarium numerum
vel æquicrus a duobusæqualibus tibás, vel gradatus propter tria 1112 - qualia
latera, quæ vt gradus concipiuntur, 2 CAPITE QVINTO. AXT fiquis corum qua
ſequuntur ſeinuicem ex neceſſitateal Strumpetat vt latus incomenſurabile cle
diametrofi oportet dia meter lateri. PRIMO pofteriorum fuit declaratum &
demonſtratū quo pacto diameter quadrati coftę fit incommenſurabilis, quantum
autem ad hunc locum attinet, non ſemper per ca que ſe conſequun tur
immediate,probatio fieri debet, fed medium debet effe aliquo modo idem cū
extremis,&aliquomodo diuerſum, vt in 10 clemë torum de diametro, &cofta
eftmanifeftū,Prçterea,non eft proban dumaliquod ingnotum per equc ignotum, quod
fi alterum peta tur in alterius probatione, nil penitus demonſtratur, IN PRIMO
ELENCORVM. CAPITE PRIMO, POSTQVAM enim ipſas per ſe res in difputationem alla
tas vfurpare dicendo non eſt, ſed vocum veluti nutibus,rerum die ce primur,
ſiquid in id incidit vitij,in ipſis eſſe rebus, nõ in vocibus putamus,quod vfu
venire his,qui calculisrationem ineunt, ſolet. CALCULATORES noſtri temporis characteribus
caldaicis vtuntur, per quos, in numerorī cognitionem trahuntur, ficut per voces
in rerum cognitionem ducimur, IN TERTIO CAPITE, DIVISIONE vero,vt quoniam
quinqueſuntduo et tria, fieri vt paria fint imparia, & maius fit æquale. SI
diuiſim ſummas3.& 2. nunquam, quinque faciunt, ſecue autem fi coniunctim,
&ceffatomnisinftantia. Neque dixit terna fium, & binarium, quia due
ſpecies numeri, non componunt terº tiam fpeciem numerorum,ſed quinque vnitatcs
pro materia quiné sii accipiuntur. VD ANTVM vt quale,quale vt quantum. IN primo
pofteriorum in de triplici errore circa vniuerfale fuit oftenfum,proportionem
proprie circa quantum &non circa qua le effe, ita vi ſiquis pPomba
proportionem proprie eſſc circa quale, is quale pro ipſo vretur quanto vitioſe.
IN QVARTO CAPITE. AVT quod idem eiuſdem duplum, & non duplum, duplum quidem
in longuni, non duplum antem inlatum. CVM dederic eiufdem ad diuerfa: vt duo ad
uſum &ad tria dat deinceps exemplum eiuſdein ad idem fecundâ diuerfa tama,
Vt linca a b quatuoc,ad lineam a cduo actu dupla eft,no autem dú pla in latū
immo quadrupla elt a badac duo quod eft effe fuũ in potentia, quod manifeſtuin
eſt, in triangulo a bccuius ca b'rectus eft, id autem manifeftum eft ex 46
primi Elementorum, Eucli dis, vel dicas ab duplam ad a cin longitudine, non
autem in latiu dine, qua caret, eft dupla 1: 6 . NEQYE ſi triangulusduobus
rečtis tres æquoshabet, & ei. velfigură,del primum,vel principium eſſe
dicit;quod velfigura, del primum, vel principium eſt triangulus eft, nam non
quathe nusfigura del primum pel principium, ſed quatbenus triangulus
demonftratio erat. TRIANGVLVS enim rectilineus figurarum rectilinea. sum prima
eſt,ita vt fic & figura, & prima, & principium,vt qui buſdam placet
omnium figurarum rectilinearum,non tamen id ve tum eft fecundum Euclidis fcicum;
vtAs primi clementorum dos cet, &vt Amonius determinat capite deſpecie
ſupra porphirit, ſed hoc loco famoſe loquitur Ariſtoteles, & determinat
quod no con uenit criangulo habere tres duobus rectis æquales, ratione corum
quæ de eo dicta funt, fed ratione ſui ipſius,non aucem quathenus,fi gura,vel
primī, & principium neque etiam fi ifta fuſius accipian tur,figura,primüm
principium inferunt triangulum efle, arguere. tur enim ex conſequente ad
antecedens, & exmagis vniuerfale ad minus vniuerfale,ex ſuperiorique ad
inferius, figura enim nedum triangulo conuenit, ſed pentagono &alijs
multis,primum nedum figuræ, fed etiamnumero principium quoque in naturalibus,
& his quæ arte fiunt repperitur, nedum in figuris cöpofitis (vt ais. bant
ex triangulo ſape ſumpto, Hoc autem ab accidente differt, quoniam accidens
quidem 1 I 1 in uno ſolo ſummere eft, vt idem,elle flauum of melse album ege
cygnum,quod autem propter confequens in pluribusſemper opora tet,nam quæ vni
& eidem funteadem er fibi ipſa poſtulantur elle eadem propter quodfit ea
quæ propter conſequens eft redargutio, eſt autem non omnino verum, viſifit
album ſecundum accidens, nam &nix cygnusalbedo idem,autrurſum Melyſji
oratio, ide elle poftulat,fa &tum eſſe, &principium babere',
autæqualisfieri Geandem magnitudinem accipere,quoniam enim principium ba bet
quodfa &tum eft.co quod factum eſt, babet principium,fa &tum elle
postulatstam quam ambo eadem fint eo quod principiū fa &tu elle finitumquc
habent, ſimiliter auto e in his que æqualiafa &ta Junt, ſi eandem
magnitudinem & vnam ſumendo æqualia fiunt, et quæ æqualia faéta funt eandem
dim onam magnitudinem ſum munt, quare conſequens ſummit. TRES modos errandiin
falatia conſeguentis adducit philofa phus, primade accidente, ve de
albo,aiebant quidam cõſequencia hác valere, cignus eft,igitur album eſt, &
econuerſo,album eft,ige tur cygnus eft,determinat Ariſtoteles, quod album
elle,vniuerſali us fit,quã effe cygnum, a magis comune ad minus comuneargud do
cõinictitur fallacia cõrequêtis,albedo enim nedum eft in cygno, fed etiã in
niue, & alñs reperitur: Secundo vt Melyflus aiebat, hæc duo videlicet, ly
factum efle, & ly principium habere, vt recte fer quebatur fecundum
Melyſſum factum eft, igitur principiñ habet, principium habet igiturfactum eſt,
principium enim habere, vni uerfalius eft quam factum effe cælum enim
principium habet, ma teriain ſuam ſcilicet &formam, attamen, non eft factum,
quia fer cunduin falſam Ariſtotelis opinionem ſemper fuit, principiữenim.comune
eft & ad id quod materiam &formă haber, & adid quod cæpit efle, in
tempore modo a magis comune ad minus comune arguendo committitur error
confequentis, Tertio loco, aduertic Ariſtoteles quod eadem magnitudo,
&æqualis magnitudonon couertuntur,in plus eniin eſt æqualia effe,quam cadem
effe,fiquis igitur inferat,magnitudo magnitudini eadem eft,igitur magnitudo
'magnitudiniæqualiselt,recte quidem intulit, vi in probatione ſce cunde partis
quintæ lib. primi Elementorī vna &eadem linea di fit balis in duobus
triangulis eft, fibiipfi æqualis & in quinta & ſexta terti Elementorum
vna &eadé linea a centro exiens ad cor cunferentiam (quæ duabos lineis ali
comparatur )elt æqualis fibi, fed non omne quod eft æquaļe alteri,elt fibi ipfi
idem, vipatet, in 1.. tertia primi, Elementorum,cuin de longiori æqualis
breuiuri ſinex linea feccacur, ob id Euclides, In quinto Elementorum propofitio,
ne 11.propoſuit probandum,quod quæ vni ſunt cadera &libica: dem ſunt,quod
fi principiuin primafuiſſet, licuti eft, quæ vni ſunt E qualia inter ſe ſunt
equalia, non propoſuillet illud in quinto eile probandum,quod Ariſtoteles
confiderauit. QVARE manifeftum eft, quodeo demonſtraționes redargu. tiones funt
&veræ quidem,nam quæcunque demonftrare licet, ca Gredarguere eū,qui contradi
tione veri ponet,licet, vtſicomen furabilem diametra pofuerit;redarguatquis
demonftratione, quod incomenſurabilis;quare omnium oportet efle, nam alia
quidem ea quæ in Geometriaſunt principia eorumque concluſiones &cæt. SIQ
VIS diametrum commenſurabilem coſtæ ponat redar, guitur ab Euclide lib, 10
elementoruin propoſitione 115, vel leo cundum campanuin, per illam
demonſtrationem, quæ ibi adduci. tur,quæ demonftratio,redargutio eft ipfius
proteruiafferentis con. trarium, fic vt pro declaratione huius textus fatis fit,
quod ipía de monſtratio veri,redargutio eft falli allerti,vel afferendi a
proteruo, NAM ſecundum vnamquanque,artem ſyllogiſmus falfus est, vt fecunlum
Geometriam Geometricus, " VIDETVR ex hoc textú quod geometra paralogizet
quod oppoſitum eft ei, quod determinatum eſt in poſterioribus, Geometram
videlicet non paralogizare, Dico Ariſtotelem loqui non de Geometrico fyllogiſmo
in quo,neque circa materiam nec circa formam error contingit, fed de fyllogiſmo
in quo terminus, ſeu vox aliqua repperitur Geometrica, contraria lux fignifica
tioni a Geometra pofita, vt quod triangulus pro circulo accipia tur,vel error
paratur in conſequentia,vt fi triangulus, igitur dua. bus lineis clauditur,
& vtroque modorum erit pfeudogeometri cus fyllogifmus, vt fi quis
pſeudogeometra per numerum inipa sem æqualem pari fyllogizer diametrum
commenſurabilem effe ipfi coſtr,hoc ſuo fyllogilino non falſum redarguit, quin
potius fal fum ingerit, de quo fyllogiſmo pſeudogeometrico, hic Ariſtoteles
Intelligatur, & non de Geometrico, vt in pofterioribus determi, nauit
philoſophus, & per me fuit declararā, quo modo Geometra non paralogizat lad
ſyllogizat, & id, hoc loco in memoriam reuo candum eft, quod in prioribusde
prima figura dictum fuit, quo nam pacto Geometra illa vtatur, IN NONO CAPITE.
ET la cuis viletur plura ſignificare triangulus, deditque, nos, vt cam figuram
de qua concludebat quòd duo re&tis, verum ad in telle &tum illius
difputauit,hic an non? TRIANGVLVS enim eft figura plana tribus rectis li. neis
contenta de qua Euclides ſecīda parte 32.primi elementorum demonſtrat quod
habet tres angulos duobus rectis equales, modo fiquis immaginaretur quod
triãgulus aliquid aliud fit, a tali figura (qui triangulus eſt ) propter id
quod omnes anguli ipfius figuræ fint etiam duobus rectis æqualcs,
vtoninesanguli pentagoni,cu. ius vnumquodque lacusſeccat duo ipſius reliqua
latera, talis pro fecto non diſputabit de triãgulo, quiaad intellectuin
triangulinon reſpicit,fed ad aliud, vt ad talem pentagonum, no enim neceffe
eft, vequicquid habet angulos duobus rectis pares, fit triangulus, nes quod
habent tres duobus rectis pares, fed quæ figura habet tan tum tres angulos
duobus rectis pares,ille triangulus eſt. VNITATEs binarijs in
quaternzrijsæquiles efle,at binse rij hic quidemſic infunt illiautemſecus, SIQ
VIS ex illo principio, quæ vni & eidem ſunt æqualia, inferre tentauerit
quod binarij fint quaternarii, hoc medio, omnes vnitates ſunt ęquales
vnitatibus binarë,omnis numeri quaternarij vnitates ſunt æqualesvnitatibus
binarë, iglur omnes vnitates quaternarñ ſunt æquales Vnitatibus binarij,igitur
quacernarius eft binarius,ad maiorem & minorem prime coufequentiæ dicendum,
quod fi vnitates ſingulę & diuiſion accipiantur concedendæ ſunt vtræque
& confequentia prima, fed fecunda confequentia interris matur, fi vero
vnitates in maiori & minori acceruarim ſuſcipian, tur vtraque præmiſſarum
eft falla & fequitur conclufio falfa, & les cundę conſequentiæ
anteccedens eft falluin, & conſequentia fequi tur, & conſequens etiam
falſum eſt. NEOVE liquod pſeudographum circa verum eft vt Hyppo cratis
quadratura que per lunulas, ſed qualiter Brifo circulã qua,
drauit,tametficirculus quadretur,tamen quis non ſecundum rem ideo ſophiſticus
est, quare etiam qui de bis apparens ſyllogiſmus cft,oratio plane eſt
contentiola. / ! HYPPOCRAS tentauit circulum quadrareper lunulas et reduxit lunulam
deſcriptam ſuper coſtarn quadrati inſcripti in ciro culo ad figuram rectilineam
&exiſtimauit omnem lunulam redu ci poffe ad rectilineam figuram, ob id
fuppofuit lunulas deſcrip tas fuper latus exagoni circulo inſcripti,poffe
reduci adrectilineam figuram ex quo ſuppoſito non demonftrato, progreſſus eſt
ad cir. culi quadraturam &variauit diagramma,tranfiens à quadrato ad
exagonum, & tranfiens a lunula exiſtente ſuper lacus quadrati in fcripti
circulo ad lunulam deſcriptam fuper lacus exagoni inſcripti in circulo, &
fic preudographus factus eſt, Briſo fimiliter errauit circunſcribens circulo
& infcribens circulo quadratum,vterque fo phiſtice proceſsit,et
fyllogizarunt contētiofe, fed alter in diagrāma te vt Hyppocras, reliquus vero
in principäs proprös neque in illa rione, reliquus autem in conſequentia, &
quia vtebatur principös coinmunibus, & fi circulus quadretur fophiftice,
tamen non fecun dum rem, vt non per principia propria, neque per
deſcriptionetti diagramatum,hoceft per cõſtructionem debitam figurarum,nec ex
neceffaria cófequutione principiorum ad conclufionem ex illis
principñsneceffario illatam, fyllogiſinus igitur quo Hyppocrates & Briſo
fyllogizabant quadraturam circuli, contentioſa erat al tera,vt quæ Brilonis,
non contentiofa vero reliqua, vi hyppocra. cis,vti Ariſtoteles inferius in hoc
capite declarat inquiens, CONTENTIOS A vero quodam modo ſic ſe ad dialetti cam
habet,quemadmodum pleudographa ad Geometriam, namex eiſdem, diferendi
modo,captiose & pſeudographa Geometrice de cipit,fed hæc quidemnon eſt
contentiofa,quia ex principys & con clufionibus quæ funt fub arte
pſeudographa facit,quæ autem ex his eftquafuntfub diale & tica,circa alia
quide contentiofam efle mani feftum eft,vt quadratura quidem, quæper lunulas
non contentio Sa, Brifonis autem contentiofa eft. ILLA ars quę falſum cöcludit
vel potius artifex ille,an potius pſeudoartifex qui ſyllogizat falium ex
principiis veris vel ex theo rematibus probatis, vt fecit Hyppocras in
quadratura circuli,non contentioſe procedit, quia ex propriis principiis &
theorematibus Geometriæ,Briſo autem proceſſic ex his, quæ nedum Geometria, fed
etiam aliis diſciplinis applicari poffunt, vt, quæ vni & eidem funt æqualia
inter fe æquaha effe conftat,quod principium et Geo metriæ Arithmeticæ
ſtereometriæ &ei quæ de ponderibus tractat diſciplinæ applicari poteft,
pariter ratio Antiphontisde quadratu. G 16 ra contentiora eft, qua negat
principium Geometriæ, quod eft fe cundum theorema certii elementorum Euclidis,
& negat etiam li. neain poffe in infinitum diuidi, & dicit rectum eſſe
curuum, & cur uum rectum, & dari duo puncta inmediata in linea
circulari, quæ omnia fequuntur ex conſtitutione hilochilium triangulorum qui
conſumunt lunulam contentam a circunferencia circuli & recta linea. VT
impar numerus ejt medium habens, eſt aut numerus im par, eft igitur numerus,
numerus medium habens. IMPAR numerusa pari differt vnitatis incremento vel im
minutione, vt quinarius a quaternario, & ſenario, in his igitur vo cibus,
ly numerus & ly impar committitur vitium nugationis, quale committitur in
his quæ ad aliquid dicuntur, vt fimitas naſi quidem curuicas eft,modo fic
ordineturfyllogiſmus, Omnis impar eſt numerus habens medium. Sed numerus eft
impar Igitur numerus eſt numerus habens medium Ecce quod bis numerus reppetitur
in concluſionc, inaniter factum. ACCIDIT autem quandoque ficut in mathematicis
confia gurationibus, vt illic quæ foluimus quandoquecomponcre iterum non
queamus. OVADRATVM, penthagonum, & cæteras figuras re. etilineas reſoluimus
in triangulos,non tamen ex triangulis quadra tum fit ſed ex dacta linea recta
in fe ducta deſcribitur&, 45primi clementorum Euclidis, & cæteræ figuræ,
vt ex quartolibro elemen torum Euclidis patet,fed per id non videtur factum
effe fatis textui Ariſtotelis,nifi dixeris, quod non ea facilitate idem
componimus, qua facilitate ſoluitur in triangulos, vel etiam dicas quodin Geo
metria abſolute non componitur figura ex triangulis, & fi omnia figura
rectilinea in triangulos refoluatur, fecus auteminri athmetica de mente
pythagoræ, tefte Boetio libro fecundo Arithmetices immo vnaqueque figurarum
ſpecies, componitur ex præcedenu fpecie et triangulo,vt eo loco demonftratur,
vel meliusex tot vni tatibus, quotpræcedensſpeciesconſtat, & vnitatibus
triangulorum, vt illis declaratur locis. VNIVERSA LOCA IN LOGICA M A R то тв
LIS IN MATHBMATICAS DISCIPLINAS HOC NOVVM OPVS DECLARAT. сум PRIVILEGIO. aistas
f 4 VBNBTUIS IN OFICINA FRANCISCI,COLINI GROENIGLICHEN AD LECTORES. Primum
limen huius ingreſſus eft in hunc librum,utintel ligat lector Euclidein citatum
eſſe fecundum Theonem & fecundum Campanuim indiſcriminatim. Pretcrca illud
aduertendum eſt quod Textus Ariſtotelis partiti funt fecundum Ioannem
Grammaticum, & nume rus alius, cui præponitur ly aliàs, aut ly uel,in
fronte ca pitis denotat partitionein Auerois in Paraphraſi, Tertio loco numerus
denotatpartitionem commentationis mas goæ Auerois, Illustriſsimo Venetorum
Confilio cautum eft, ne quis hoc Opus imprimere audeat ante decenniuń, fubpena
Ducatorum centum, áammißionis librorum; ut in Priuilegio conceſſo Domino
Presbitero Petro Cathena artium & facræ Theologie Doétori, pro feßorique
publicoliberalium artium in Gymnaſio Paduano: LASERLICH HOFBIB WIEN L MARCOLINI
GROENIGLICHEN AD LECTORES. Primum limen huius ingreſſus eft in hunc librum,utintel
ligat lector Euclidein citatum eſſe fecundum Theonem & fecundum Campanuim
indiſcriminatim. Pretcrca illud aduertendum eſt quod Textus Ariſtotelis partiti
funt fecundum Ioannem Grammaticum, & nume rus alius, cui præponitur ly
aliàs, aut ly uel,in fronte ca pitis denotat partitionein Auerois in
Paraphraſi, Tertio loco numerus denotatpartitionem commentationis mas goæ
Auerois, Illustriſsimo Venetorum Confilio cautum eft, ne quis hoc Opus
imprimere audeat ante decenniuń, fubpena Ducatorum centum, áammißionis librorum;
ut in Priuilegio conceſſo Domino Presbitero Petro Cathena artium & facræ
Theologie Doétori, pro feßorique publicoliberalium artium in Gymnaſio Paduano:
LASERLICH HOFBIB WIEN LCOLINI GROENIGLICHEN AD LECTORES. Primum limen huius
ingreſſus eft in hunc librum,utintel ligat lector Euclidein citatum eſſe
fecundum Theonem & fecundum Campanuim indiſcriminatim. Pretcrca illud
aduertendum eſt quod Textus Ariſtotelis partiti funt fecundum Ioannem
Grammaticum, & nume rus alius, cui præponitur ly aliàs, aut ly uel,in
fronte ca pitis denotat partitionein Auerois in Paraphraſi, Tertio loco numerus
denotatpartitionem commentationis mas goæ Auerois, Illustriſsimo Venetorum
Confilio cautum eft, ne quis hoc Opus imprimere audeat ante decenniuń, fubpena
Ducatorum centum, áammißionis librorum; ut in Priuilegio conceſſo Domino
Presbitero Petro Cathena artium & facræ Theologie Doétori, pro feßorique
publicoliberalium artium in Gymnaſio Paduano: LASERLICH HOFBIB WIEN LIOTHEK
PETRVS CATHENA VENETÝS PRESBITERORVM OMNIVM MINIMVS REVERENDISSIMO DOMINO MARCO
LAVRETANO EPISCOPO NONENSI AC PATRONO S V O COLENDISSIMO. S. P. மரா
NTER munera,quæ diuiniore calculo benigna humanitatis arti fex natura
nobiscontulit, uirtu tum de litterarum facratiſsime antistes, ad poftremum haud
quaquam adducitur ipſa ratio, nempe ad quamomnia prope quæhumana addicuntur
ſubstan tiæ ad unum adhæferunt, cuius munere ſi quis minime recte ufus fuerit
ipſum naturæ aduerſari, atſi bonis artibus que de periere iam &deciderunt,
quippiamſplendoris &utilitatiscor rogauerit & farcuerit, illum
rationismunereperfunctumeſſe ne mo nefciat, hac de caufaconſiderans hominum
mentes eodem effe quo arua fato, quæ ſi excolantur bona ſinegligantur mala
perfe runt germina,uidiſſem multos, qui philofophi nominari uolunt prepoſteris
imbutos litteris,quorum mentes ſentes alunt Gmon stra, quibusuellicandisne unus
quidem Herculesſatiseffet, uin Etum in inestricabiles laberinthos quin potius
in carcerem te terrimum Aristotelem ut ciuimilites traxiſſe,qui inutilibus que
stionibus &Græcis tenue intincti literis, bomis artibusnegletis, fimiles
factifunt oculo, qui quòd in tenebris fit lucem flocifecerit Aij
decreuiquoingenijuires,etiam fi exignas(nam apprime noui quàm fitmihi
curtaſuppellex ) expenderem in eruendo Ariſtotele ex illo obfcuro, id autem tam
comode quàm apte fieri putabam ſi Mathematica exempla ſua expreſsiora redderem,
quibus in ex plicandis Logicis ufusfuit ipſe prefertim hoc tempore qua publi
cis lectionibus Mathematicis in PaduanoGimnaſio incumbebam, ad huius etiam
clariſsimi Philofophi elucidationem accedebat hor tatio iuuamen ReuerendissD..
Ioannis Marie Piſauri Epiſco pi Paphenſis &mecenatis optimi cuius expenſis
opus imprimeba tur, hortabaturque me ille, ne opus hocpermiterem ex ire in ho
minummanus fine duce aliquo cumpreſertim milta, &fere difi cilima hac
tempestate contineret, que aut ab interpretibus uniuer fis omiffa, autoppoſita
his effent que interpretati ſunt. Te igitur patronum Dominum meum delegi,qui
& Ariſtoteleam Philo ſophiam uniuerſam cales, &qui has liberalesartes
Latinis duri bus inuulgauit. Itaque ea. Aristoteles loca qua potui diligentia
il lustraui, & quæ lucem claritatemque deſiderare uide bantur,
curſimebreuis annotamenti lumine perui afeci, qua in reſi effe cerim quod
uoluizesło iudex &cenfor. Has autem primores inge - ný nostri fæturastuo
nomini Reuerendiss. Domine eam ob rem dicatas uolui,quo plane intelligeres
noftri animigratitudinem pro innumeris quibus me in dies cumulare deſideras
beneficijs, eoque quod aliter non datur temeum reuerear benefactorem; neque ob
aliud ſanete reuerear quàm quòd omni laude digniſsimum: Vale præfulum decus. ed
RE agat, ueletium num in ſemen uiri, uelmulieris, uel inmatricem, { OTS
PORPHYRII DE GENERE PETRI CΑΤΗΕΝΑ PRESBITERI VENETINOVA INTERPRETATIO. IcetVR
& alio modo genus uniuſcuiuſque principium or tus, tam ab co, qui genuit,
quám a loco in quo eft quiſ piam ortus. Dicitur quòd locus, os pater cauſe
funteffè &trices genis ti, diuerfimodetamen,quippe pater aétiua fit caufa,
locus uero conſer uatiua tantum,que ad cauſam effe's Etricem non immerito
reducitur,aps te magis quàm adquodcunque aliud cauſé genus. Dico tamen quod,
& locusnedum conſeruatiuum prin cipium est, fic ut genitum folummodo
conſeruet poftea quam genitum ipfum acquiſiuerit effe fuum,ſed etiam adiuuin
principium eſt ipſe locus affe Ausrefpectu geniti accidentiumſententia est
ipſius Ariſtotelis, quòd per acceſjum atque receſſum planetarumſub circulo
obliquo fiunt in hæc inferioragenerationes atquecorruptiones, folis igitur, e
planetarum aliorum lumine, ac motu, affectus locus, aštiue agit hoc pacto
adgenera = tionem, atque parentes, fi fecus quis audiuerit, tunc sol, &
pater non generarenthominem cum Sol non niſiſuis radijs reétis reflexis autfrae
étis alterando aerem agatin ipſum, ca in contentum, quo autem pacto age
quodmodo eidemſimili,quo etiam in uiſcera terre producitmineralia, o interræ
fuperficie plantas. PORPHY RIVS DE SPE. DE SPET I E. VLCR A Fucies, debita
parilitate demiſſa,coloria bus lineamentiſuć luculenter affecta,fpetiesà Pors
phyrio in prima ſpetiei ſignificatione uocatur., ut Facies priami dignaeſt
imperio, ad cuius fi militudinem, ill. est, quefub aßignato generepoa nitur,
curus pulcritudo, est differentia fpecifica, qua pulcritudine informe genus
contrahitur, atque pulcrumfit. Et Trianguluun, figuræ fpetiem ſimili modo
ſignificat,fie gura rectilinea genus est ad triangulum, non figura in uniuerſum
quamſic fufamfiguram Euclides primo Elementorum partitur in eam, que una
clauditur linea, & in eam quæ pluribus lineis continetur, qui Triangulus
Axties fitfigure reftilinee per hanc ſpecificam différen tiam qua est, claudi
tantum tribus reftis, qua etiam differentia pula crum redditur figure genus.
Indiuidua funt'infinita. Non intela ligas hoc uelim, niſi potentia,qua
infinitatis affectione etiam numerus ita intelligatur; ſed modo quodam diverſo,
numerus enim, quicunque fit, aexiſtat, finitus eſt, terminatus,ſic pariter
indiuidua on nia, quæ exiſtunt finita funt, sed que preceſſerunt omnia,o que
futu rafunt ex utraqueparte infinita diceret Ariſtoteles, numerus uero cum
statum ad unitatemhabeat duplici modo finitus eſt,« actu, o deſcenden do,uerum
indiuidua duobus modis dictis funt infinita, unico autem modo ut quæ
præfentiafunt, finita etiamfunt. IN PREDICAMENTA ARISTOTELIS. DE QVANTITATE.
ENARAI numeri partes, ut quinque, & quinque. Animaduerſione dignum exemplar
hoc in loco pofuit Ariſtoteles, cum dixit quinque,& quin que partes eſe
denarij numeri, non enim dixit quis narium, oquinarium denarium numerum compone
re, quia nulla numerorun fpeties componitur ex di uerfisſpetiebus,neque etiam
ex unis indiuiduis eiufdem fpetiei,ut diuerfa fpeties fiat, ex unis ternis uel
quaternis, ant quinnis numeris nonfitfe nariusuel oftonarius aut denarius, ex
unitatibus tamen quinis o quinis que materia eft. Cuiuslibet numeri, denari
fpeties conflutur, eas ſententia Euclidis, Nichomaci, atque Boetij. Similiter
& in cor pore fuimere aſsignareque lineam fuperficiemuè comu. nem terininun
potes, quo partes corporis copulantur. Punctum esse lincæ terminum, or lineam
ſuperficiei, e ſuperficiem corporis nemo neſcit, niſi qui Euclidis doctrina
dignus est, ſed illud unum maiori egeret indagine, quo nam pa&o
lineaſitforſan etiam ima mediatus corporis terminus,ne id Ariſtoteles aſſerens,
quippiam affe rat contra Euclidis fcitum, prima enim deffinitione undecimi
Elementorum inquit ille, corpus ſiue ſolidum est, quod longitudinem latitudia
nem ocraßitudinem habet, folidi uero terminus fuperficies est, uide ergo quod
ſolidi terminusnonſit linea ipfa, ut Ariſtoteles aſſerit. Ves rum quòd linea
terminusfit corporis manifeſtum est, fi idquod Euclides ait deffinitione nona
undecimi elementorum non ignores, solidus (inquit) angulus est, qui ſub
pluribus duobus planis angulis comprehenditur non exiſtentibus in eodem plano, ad
unum ſignum conſtitutis, plurium linearum igitur contactus (nulla ſuperficierum
habita conſideratione) qui estfolidus angulus corpus terminat,fub illis igitur
lineis angulusfox Tidus contentus, terminusest illius folidi, ville lineæ
termini ſuntnes dum illarum ſuperficierum corpus ambientium, quin etiam
inmediati terinini funtillius corporis, cum linea continentes illos angulos in
puran Etum unum concurrant. Preterea idipſum Euclides afferit de angulo, quod
fit immediatus terminusfolidi problemate tredecimo, libri tredeci mi
Elementorum, & in fequentibus quatuor problematibus idem uit,in quibus
docet conſtruere corpora regularia, queſuis angulis tangant ſu perficiem
concauam circumſcribentis pheri, qui quidem uniuerſi angis li ſub tribus ad
minus &pluribus tribus rectis lineis ad unum pun &tum concurrentibus
continentur, &punctus ille, nedum est linearum terris minus, fed etiam
regularis corporis finis,cum ſit terminus omnium linearum, quo termino tangit
fphærum,patet igitur id, quod Ariſtoteles dixit de lineis nedum ueritatem
habere, ſed ut etiam pun tusſit terminus ips fius corporis, ſecundum Euclidis
ſcitum, perinde dicendum eft de ſuper ficie, quòd non tantum lineis, ſedetiam
ipſis pun tis terminata fit, fide ea, quæ rectis lineis claudatur fermofiat,
øde corpore Iſoperimetro, fiue quod pluribus re&tis fuperficiebusclauditur,
hocquod dictum est in telligatur. Adid uero, quod Euclides primo Elementorum
ait deſuper ficie fiuefigura rectilinea deffinitione uigefima, refponde, quod
uerum dicit, figura rectilinea, inquit, contineturfub lineis reftis, enon die
cit contineturfub punctis, agequod contineriſub pun &tis diuerfum eſt, ab
terminari punctis. Ariſtoteles hoc uidens, dixit corpus lineis termia narinon
tamenfub illis contineri,quod deſuperficie ſimiliter eft dia cendum. Vel etiam
reétè dices, fi ita fenferis, quòd figura in uniuer. ſali, linea claudatur,
neque una,neque pluribus, & corpus in uniuer far liambitu ſuperficie
claudatur, neque itidem una aut pluribus, o neua tra deffinitio fic in
uniuerfum accepta habet exclufiuam particulam,cum autem ad circulum uel ſpherum
defcenderis,unum linea una clauditur re liquum uero una tantum fuperficie ſcias
elſe claufum,reliquæ uerofigur re rectilineæ non deffiniuntur cum particula
exclufiua abEuclide,vel di cas, quòd in littera Ariſtotelis, eſt fua met
interpretatio, ubi enim dixe rit, in corporefumere aßignarequelineam comunem
terminum, statim correxit ſe, dicens fuperficiem eſſe comuném terminum corporis
et Euclides non dixit quòd punctus, ſed quod angulus tangat fphærum. Rurſus in
pago quidem, multos homines, Athenis au tem paucos dicimus eſſe, qui tamen funt
illis plures, & in domo quidem multos in theatro uero paucos,qui quidem
& ipfi multo funt illis plures.Aduertas Ariſtotelem utroque exi emplo, o
paucos & multos dixiſſe, comparationem faciens hominum ad loca in
quibusfunt, non habens rationens hominum ad homines, ut fimile exemplun daretur
ſiquis dicat pauciaurcifunt in arca, @mule ti in crumena, fi in crumena eſſent
tantum fex, decem in arca, DE HIS QVÆ AD ALIQVID. VADRATIONIS enim circuli,
& fcibilis eſt, ſcientia quidem nondum eſſe uidetur eft autem fcibilis
ipſa. Quadam libertate hoc lo co loquutus eſt Arift.afferens id quod ignorauit,
quia ſi non ignoraſcet eam,habuiſſet illiusſcientiam, o non dixiſſet (niſi
forſan mendatio) ſcientia quidem now dum eſſe uidetur,fciens etiam quod nullus
adtempus uſqueſuum proprijs principijs quadraturam inuenerit, nequecitra ad
hanc ufq; horam,quis oftenderit,nififorſan quibufdamſuppoſitis,quu,et ipfa non
minoriproba tione egerent quàm ipſa circuli quadratio,fedquidper iftud exemplum
utilitatis Ariſtot. attulerit, illud effe puto, ut ammoto fcibili, oſcien tia
ARISTOTELIS. tia eiusremoveri neceſſe eſt, ut putacaufa nunquam cauſante
nuſquam effectus erit, quadratio igitur circuli cum non ſit, nequefcientia de
ip. fa quadratura circuließepoteft. Quid nam antiqui de quadratura ſe na ferint
in fractionibus Mathematicis declarabitur. DE QVALITATE. VARTVM qualitatis
gen'us eft figura & ca quæ circa unumquodque eft forma, & in fuper
rectitudo, & curvitas, & quicquid eſt hiſce fimile. De figura fcias
Ariſtotelem lom qui, non ut de ea Geometrica abſtracte conſiderata, Jed de
figura in re figurata exiſtente,ueluti in fubie & o, idem de forma,
rectitudine, atque curuitate intelligas. Aduere tendum tamen ordinem quendam
feruaffe hoc loco Ariſtotelem in his que proponit, à ſimpliciori ad magis
compoſitum. Primo enim defi gura,quæ linea, uel lineis clauditur, fecundo de
his, quæ ſimplici bus lineis, aut ſuperficiebus uniformibus, nempe uel tantum
re tis, aut tantum curuis, uelſolummodo conuexis,aut etiain tantum concauis
continentur, modus iſte ſecundus à primo non nihil differt, in hoc differentia
est inter utrumque, quia primomodo de co quod planum eft, ueluti ipſa papyrus,
ſecundo modo, de eo quod corpus, utmons, ficuti uulgus,quodfubtile eſt (ut
papyrus) planum uocat, quod autem eft ualde craſſum, corpus appellat, ut
montem, a facilioriperſuadens tya runculis ea,quæ etiam à uulgo principium
cognitionis ſumunt. Triana gulus autem & quadratum cæteræque figuræ, non
uidens tur talem rationem ſubire. Ariſtoteles parum ante dixit, que: nam ſint
et, quæ magis, minufue ſuſcipiunt, ut puta qualia ipſa, gridus fufcipiunt
intenfionis,modo uides quod neque trianguliis,nequequadras tum,qualia ſunt, fed
quanta, que intenſione remißioninonſunt apta. Nam ea, quæ trianguli rationem
circulinefuſcipiunt,trians guli fimiliter, aut circuli ſunt oinnia. Senſus
huius eft, quòd triangulus. quilibet, uel omnia que triangula ſunt, niſi id
quod tribus clauditur lineis,aliud non eſt, a circuli omnes, nil aliud funtquam
und çlaudi linea, in cuius medio punctus eſt quod centrum dicitur, à quo oma.
nes recte linea uſque ad circunferentiam ductæ inter fefunt cquales.com hoc
nihil aliud quàm circulus eſt,nõ enim triangulus circulus,neque cira B 10 IN
PREDICAMENT A culus triangulus eft, neque utrunque aliquid unum eſt, licet
utrunque figura ſit,ſed hoc æquiuoce, & non uniuoce eſt. Neque te turbet
hoc quia Ariſtoteles prius de triangulo, « quadrato propoſuit,c finit ſena
tentiam de triangulo, e circulo, & non de triangulo, quadrato, quia de
triangulo o quadrato dicens, ſubiunxit cæteræque figuræ quo uerbo etiam circulă
intellexit, de quo ultimo loco explicite loquitur. Eorum uero, quæ rationein
hanc, non ſuſcipiunt, nihil alio magis minúſie tale dicetur,non enim quadratum
ma gis quàm altera parte longius circulus elt, quippe cum neu trum circuli
fubeat rationem atque fimpliciter. Si non fubeat propoſiti, in quofit
comparatio rationem, alteruin altero magis tale mi nuſueminimèdicetur.
Quadratum neque circulus eſt, nec etiam altera parte longius circulus eſt,cum igitur
propoſiti circuli rationem neus trum ſuſcipiat, neque quadratum circulus eft,nec
etiam quadratum mas gis quam altera parte longius circulus est, idem age de
altera partelons giore. Atquefimpliter pro hoc uerbo, ſcito Ariſtot.ſententiam
hanc eſe, o ſi quadratum, &altera parte longius circulus eſſet, atque in eo
conuenirent, quia tamen neutrum eorum, atque circulus, non eft qualis tas, fed
quantitas,ideo à quadrato, o abaltera parte longiori, lymas
gisminúfue,ſecludenda funt.Expoſitio hæc uidetur contra id, quòd Aris ſtoteles
determinauit in capite de quali oqualitate, quo loco ait quara tum qualitatis
genus eft figura,ad quodfoluendum, dicas figuram capi uno, atquealtero
modo,primo figura conſideratur in ſe abſtracta aſus bie &to quocunque,
cmſic quantumfeu quantitas eft,o non qualitas,nec etiam in quarto qualitatis
genere, alio autem modo conſideraturfigura in refigurata, cui largitur tale
eſſe, or ſicfigura in fubieéto aliquo,quam. litatis naturam non refutat. Neque
musica, cuiuſpiam musica, niſi generis ratione ad aliquid, & ipsa dicatur.
De uniuersali Aristoteles,& non para ticularimuſica loquens, ſiue humant
uoce uel inſtrumentis praxis fiat, uel Theorica ipſa intelligatur, biffariam
eam conſiderat, quatenus à fubieéto uel obiecto ſeu genere ipſo caufetur,et
quatenus cauſata in ſubie eo quopiam eſt, primo modo ad fubie &tum quod
genus uocat, tan quàm ad effectricem caufam reffertur, ut ad ſonum numeratum,
non due tem ad Platonem in quo recepta est, relatiue dicitur. Vel etiam dicas,
quòd refertur rationefuigeneris, ut quatenus scientia adfcibile. ARISTOTELIS.
IL DE MODIS PRIOR IS. HR N DEMONTSRATIVIS scientisprius eſt nimirum atque
pofterius ordine, Elemen ta nanque deſignationibus ordine priora ſunt. Scito
elementa, ut deffinitiones, petita, animi conceptiones precedere ipfis
propoſitiones in ſcientijs, id quod in Euclidis methodo patet,proa poſitio nem
ſubſequitur expoſitio, quam expoſitionem statim deſigndz tio
diagrammatisconſequitur, hancdeſignationem (que beneficio petia torum tantun
fit) determinatio, determinationem demonſtratio, ſexto loco epilogus, ſiue
propoſitionis repetitio. Vel dicas elementa,ipſatana tum eſſe petita reſpectu
deſignationis tantummodo. Elementa etiam non tantum principia,utdeffinitiones,petita,
& conceptiones animi, reſpectu propoſitionum, que per ea probantur
dicuntur, fed ipſa propoſia tiones probatæ, quatenus ad alias fequentes
propoſitiones probandas fumuntur, dicuntur elementa, hac de caufa, quidam
uolunt libros quindecim Euclidis uocari elementa, alij nero non ob id,
quindecim libri dicuntur elementa,ſed quia fingulis libris fua affiguntur
principia, ut apud Campanum, ſed neuter modus dicendi placet, quin potius elea
menta dicuntur oinnia, quæ in illis quindecim libris continentur, nedum propter
deffinitiones, petita, Oʻanimi conceptiones,ut iſti, neque prou pter hoc, quòd
alique prime propoſitiones, que demonſtratæ funt, fint pro alijs
propoſitionibus fequentibus probandis principia, &elea menta,ut illi dicunt,
quia tunc ultima propoſitio noneſſet elementuin ad. quippiam, cum ipſa ultima
eſſet, ſed elementa, atque principia omnia illa dicuntur, reſpectu omnium
propoſitionum per ipfa probandarum infcientijs fubalternatis ad illos quindecim
libros. IN PREDICAMENTA DESPETIEB.V.S. MOTVS. i bЬ & CRET 10 ', alteratio
non eft. Hoc perſuaa det Ariſtot. exs * emplo Geometri co (quod etiam multis
modis in Arithmetica Boetius docet)Gnomon quidem,ut in fecundo clementorum
deffinitione ſecunda ha betur,figura eſt ſex laterum,compoſi ta ex uno quadrato
conſiſtente circa diametrum, « ſuplementis duobus, quefigura ab Euclide primo
elemen torum propoſitione tirgeſima quar ta habetur, quæ est 6, quam fi huic
addideris quadrato a, quadratiſpe ties minime alteratur, licet fiat acre tio
quantitatis, ſic ut in hac figu ra ab, quod una diuerfa peties alteri fpetiei
addita non uariet fpes tiem,exempla plus centum in tabule Pythagora, apud
Nicomachum, Boetium,in numeris inuenies, ut pu ta ex duobus longilateris
altrinfecus ad quadratum pofitis, bis medio fumpto quadrato, quod fit, quadra =
tumest,licetfacta ſit acretio, ut ex duobus, fex, vbis quatuor, ut ofto,
ſexdecim exoritur,qui etiam quadratus eft, pari modo,ex duo bus quadratis, er
bis fumptomedio longilatero, nempe ex quatuor, e nouem,bisfumptoſenario
longilate ro, uiginti quinque quadratus ortus alb ARISTOTELIS.i. 13 est, que
intelligas uolo ex in ateria primi quadrati, atque longilateri, ut ex ipſis
unitatibus, ego non de numeris tūlis formaliter fumptis, cum prius
corrumpaturſpeties preceden tis quadrati minoris, atque longilas • teri, in
aliam petiem maioris quas drati, qui ex illis oritur, acretio. igitur ubique
facta eſt, nulla intera ueniente alteratione in fpetie ipſius quadrati, licet e
gnomonis atque longilateri apertiſsime facta fit alte ratio. Aduertas tamen, ad
id quòd Ariſtot. ait in hoc exemplo de addia • tione gnomonis ad quadratum, ſic,
utfpetiesquadrati nõ alteratur.licet • fiat acretio, in Geometria uniuerſali
ter ueritatem habet, fed non eſt ita planum in Arithmetica, niſi intelles Xeris
de fpetie ſubalternāte,quòd ip fa non uariatur, uaristur tamen qua dratiſþeties
ſubalternata, oſpetia liſsima,quòd patet ex eo quòdſi nu mero quadratoſexdecim,addus
gno monem uiginti, statim ex pariter paa ri, ut puta ſexdecim, fit impariter
par, uidelicet triginta fex, quorums uterque, o fifit quadratus, diucrfarum
tamen fpetierum funt, ut ex libris Euclidis de Arithmetica mani feftum eft,quod
exemplo fubſcripto manifeſtatur fatis, quapropter uni uerfaliter Ariſtotelem
intelligas de quadrati, quatenus quadratum eft ', Apetie, hoceſt de fpetie
quadrati in uniuerfum, non de quadratiſpe= tie ppetialifsima. vel etiam dicas
quòd Ariſtoteles intelligit exemplifia cari in Geometria uniuerfaliter non
autem uniuerfaliter fimpliciter, hoc oft non in omnibus difciplinis. 11 14: IN
PRIMVM LIB. IN PRIMO PRIOR V M AN T E SECVNDVM SEC.TV M. n A M fine uniuerſali
nô erit fyllogiſmus aut non ad pofitum aut quod ex principio pea tetur,ponatur
enim mulicam uoluptatem & c. Sed magis efficitur inanifeſtum in de
ſcriptionibus, ut quòdæquicruriæquales, quiad baſin, ſintadcentruin ductæ a,b,
fi igitur æqualem accipiata, c, d, angulum, ipſib, d, c,non omnino exiſtimans
æquales, qui ſemicirculorum, & rur. fus c, ipfi d,non omnem aſunens eum qui
ſeçti. Amplius ab æquis exiſtentibus, totis Angulis, & ablatorum, æqua les
eflc reliquos e,f; quod ex principio petet, nifi acceperit ab æqualibus
æqualibus demptis,æqualia dereli nqui. Plaa num igitur quòdin omni oportet
uniuerſale exiſtere. Si dubitaret quis,an. ſemicirculi eiuſdem ornnes anguli
ſint equales, ſic perfuaderi uidetur, b omnes diametri eiufdem circuliſunt
æquales per primam deffinitionem tertij elementorum,peripheria eiuſ de circuli
uniformis eſt per xv. def finitionem primi elementorit, o me dietas
circunferentiæ est æqualis al teri medietati eiufdě circunferentia cumque omnes
recte à centro ad cir cunferentiam du &tæ fint æquales,fe quitur igitur,
quod duo anguli a, c, d,cb, d, c, ſemicirculorum eiufdem circuli a, b, c, d,
ſint ad inuicem æquales, hæc perfuafio fiat ei, qui non omnino exiſtimat
æquales, qui ſemicirculorum, rurfus inquit c, ipſi d, angulus uidelicet uterý;
minoris portionis æqualis eft alteri,nonaccepto toto angulo, ideſt,toto angulo
ſemicirculib, d,c, e a cd, quod ſic perſuadetur, árcus c, d, eiuſdem est
peripherie, que unir formis eſt, c, d, eſt unice, om eadem re&ta,ſi igitur
utrunque angus lorum minoris portionis ab utriſque ſemicirculorum angulis
detraxeris, qui anguli reininent uidelicet e, of, erunt æquales æquicrurus
igitur. PRIORVM ARISTOT. 15 triangulus habet ad bafim poſitos æquales angulos,
quod demonſtratum fuit,ſumpta iſta uniuerſali, ſi ab equalibus æqualia
aufferantur, reli qua æqualia remanent, IN PRIMO PRIOR VM ANTE TERTIVM SECTV M.
ECVNDVM uero unumquodque entium elia gere, ut de bono,aut fcientia,priuate
auten fecundum unamquainque, funt plurima quare principia quidem quæ ſecundum
unu quodq; funt,experimenti eſt tradere,dico au tem,ut Aſtrologicam
experientiain aſtrolo gicæ ſcientiæ, acceptis enim apparentibus fufficienter,
ita inuentæ funtaſtrologicæ demonſtrationes, &c. Compertum eſt aſtrolabio
ſolem plus temporis conſumere à principio Arietis ad uſas finem Virginis, quam
à principio Libre uſque ad Piſcium fines,idquod o hiſtoria traditum eft,
propter hoc etiam Hiſtoria dereli&tum est Solem tres habere orbes, quorum
medius,eccentricus eſt. Quibus habis tis apparentibus, facile
eftdemonſtrationes de Sole concludere,oſimili ter in unaquaque diſciplina,
prima principia hiſtoria data, &dereli Eta ſine probation funtpofteris,
quibus principijs tanquàm uerisſupa poſitis (hiſtoriæ enim proprium eft
ueritatem narrare) demonſtratio nes fiuntſi autem de principijs aliquafiat
demonſtratio,illam « impro priain, a poſteriori, feu à ſigno eſſe, nemoeſt
quineſciat. ANTE MVT V AM SYLLOGISMO RVM RESOLVTIONEM. On oportet autein
exiſtimare penes id, quod exponimus, aliquid accidere abfurdum nis hil cnim
utimur eo, quod eft hoc aliquid elle ſed quemadınodum Geometra, pedalem, &
rectam hanc, fine latitudine dicit, quæ non ſunt: Textushic exponitur primo
pofteriorum T. 52 fed hic tantum dubitatur,quo pacto intellectus ea poſsit
ſufficienti appres henſione capere, quenon funt, ut quæ nunquam, fub fenfu
fuerunt? 16 IN SECVNDVM LI B. Adfecundum refpondeo, quod animam eſſe,
intelligit intellectus, quam tamen nunquam uidit oculus, aut manus tetigit.
Ideo multa intelligit ins telle &tus,quorum nunquamſenfus ſenſationem
habuit. Ad primum dico, quodficut intellectus concipit coclearem artem
abſtraftam, quætamen kon eſt, niſi indeterminatis, ſingularibus hominibus, fic
etiam li ncam ſuperficie?n intelligit, que tamen non ſunt, niſi in linea atrd.
mento picta, o ſuperficie, in corpore naturali, IN SECVNDO PRIORVM CAPITE DE
PETITIONE PRINCIPII. - o cautem eft quidem fic facere,utſtatim cens ſeat quod
propofitum eſt, contingit uero, & in alia tranſeuntes apta nata per illud
mon ſtrari, per hæc demonftrare quod ex princie pio,uelutiſi,a, monftretur per
b,b autein per C, c autem natun efſet monitrari per a accidit cnim ita
ratiocinantes ipſum a,per ipſuninet a monſtrare, quod faciunt, qui coalternas
putant fcribere latent enim ipſi ſeipſos talia accipientes, quæ non eſt
poſsibile monſtra: re non exiſtentibuscoalternis, quare accidit ita ratiocinans
tibus unumquodque eſſe dicere, fi eft unumquodque, ſed ita omne erit per
feipfum cognoſcibile, quod impoſsibile eft.Si propoſitum ſit probare, quod e
ſit a, &id oftendatur per mes dium b,c fieret talis fyllogiſmus (e est b,
beſt a, igitur e eſt 4. Pros batio primæ minoris uidelicet quæ eſt hæc, e eſt b,
fit per hoc medium f, ut in hoc Syllogiſino (e eftc, c, eſt b, igitur e eſt b)
Cuius minor, uis delicet hæc, & eft c,fiprobetur. Tunc reſumitur prima
concluſio pris mi Syllogiſmi,quæ à principio probanda erat, ut in hoc
Syllogiſmo e eſt 4,4 eſt c,igitur e eftc) &fic e eft a,quia e eſt a, Ofic
error ijte uerfatur in probanda minore primi Syllogiſmi per plura media per c,
oper a, propoſitio uero que probanda proponebatur, hæcuidelicet,e eft a, per
tria media per b., perc, & per a, probatur, ſimiliter errant illi, qui
nituntur probare parallelas effe per hoc, quod Triangulum habent tres æquales
duobusreftis, quod quidem hoc probaretur modo, ſit triangu = lus a, b, c. cuius
latusbc, ſi protendatur,caufabitur augulus d, c, d, exterior equalis duobus
angulis a, b, intrinſecis ex oppoſito colla * catis PRIORVM ARISTOT. 19 [ b N
catis, ut patet ex prima parte tri q geſimæſecunde primi elementorun Euclidis,
à punéto c, parallela dua catur ipſi b, a, quæ fitc, e, patea bit per ſecundam
partem eiufdemn tri geſimæſecundæ primi elementorum, - quòd triangulus a, b, c,
habebit tres duobus re&tis æquales. Si aus tem fumatur probandum quod b, a,
uc, e, fint parallelæ, per hoc medium, quia triangulus b, a, c, habeat tres
duobus re&tis æqua. les, ideo ipſe parallelæ ſunt, ſic, exterior æqualis
eft duobus intrinſe cis ex aduerſo poſitis, qui exterior angulus a, c, d, in
duos pars titur angulos in a, c, e,we, c, d,, c, e æqualis eſt b, a,, ere, c, d,
eft æqualis a,b, c; quorum utrunque probatur per lis neas eſſe parallelas,ut
per uigeſimamnonam primi elementorum,feques retur igitur, quod a,b,oc, e,
parallelæ funt,quia parallelæ ſunt,ut b, a,oc, f, parallelæ funt,quia
triangulus a, b, c, habet tres duoc bus rectis equales, fed a, b, c, triangulus
habet tres Angulos duos bus reftis equales, quia a, b, & c,e, parallelæ
ſunt,igitur a, b,a col, parallele ſunt,,quia parallelefunt, quod uanum eft,
oprobare quipe piam prius per aliquod pofterius, quod pofterius æget illo
priori adſui probationem. Aliter exponatur Textus,ut fiintentü fit defcriberec,
d, queſit parallela ipſi a, b, per uiges ſimamtertiam primi Elementorum d fiat
angulus e, c, d, æqualis angulo 4,6,6, & argue poſtea,quod d, 0,4, ſit
æqualis angulo b, a, 6, quod eſſe non poteſt, niſi b, d,egu c, d,"
parallele fupponantur, fic b connectatur inductio, quia Trian gulus a, b, c,
habet duobus reftis æquales,parallelæ funt a,b, c,d, &quia paralellæ funt,
ideo Triangulus habet duobus rectis æqualis, igitur paralella funt, quia
parallele fit. a: í с 18.INSECVNDVM LIB. DE EO QUOD NON EST PENES HOC. VONIAM
idem utique falſum per plures fup pofitiones accidere, nihil fortaffe inconue
niens, ueluticoalternas coincidere, & fimas jor eft extrinſecus intrinſeco,
& fi triangu lus haberet plures rectos duobus. Quod autem parallela a, b,
c, d, coincidunt fic perſuaderiui. detur Angulus extrinfecus e, 8, 6, maior eft
angulo intrinſeco g, b, d, (quod quidem ſummitur falfum, pe nes quodſequitur
impoſsibile ) ſed 9 4,8,6,6,8, ho per xiij.primi a -b Elementorumſunt æquales
duobus re&tis igitur b, 8,5,64,6,8, erunt d minores duobus reftis per illam
igi tur communem fententiam, ſi una f recta ſuper duas rectas ceciderit at que
ex una parte cadėtis linee duo anguli intrinſeci fuerint minoris duobus reétis,
illas duas reétas ad pars tem illorum angulorum concurrere neceſſe erit, fi
protrahantur. Et fi triangulushaberet plures rectos duobus. Duo Anguli g, h, k,68,
k, h, ſuntmaiores duo. bus re&tis, multo magis igitur b, h, k, d, k, h,
ſuntmaiores duos, bus rectis,igitur duo a, h, k, k, h, ſunt minores duobus res
a. h b & is, quia omnes quatuor 6, h, k. a, b, k. d, k, h. @c, k, h. og
ſunt æquales quatuor reftis per des cimamtertiam primi Elementorum bis fumptam,igitur
b, a, d, c, f adpartem a, c, protracte concurs rent, per illam animi
conceptionem,fire &ta ſuper duas reétas cadensfes cerit duos angulos'ex una
parte minores duobus reétis, illa duæ lineæ ad illam partem protracte
neceſſario concurrent. ! Co Cс PRIORVM ARISTOT. IN DE DECEPTIONE QVÆ FIT
SECVNDVM SVSPITIONEM. ELVTI fia, ineft omnib, buero omni c, a omni c inerit, fi
itaque quiſpiam nouit quòda ineſt omni, cuib, nouit & quòd cui c, fed nihil
prohibet ignorare c, quòd eft, ut ſia duo recti, in quo autem b, triangulus,in
quo uero c, ſenſibilis triangulus, fufpicari nanque poflet aliquis non eſſe c,fciens
quod omnis trian gulus haberet duosrectos, quare fimulnoſcet,& ignorabit
idem. Textum ſimilem habes in pofterioribus in principio primi,preu ter ea, quæ
ibi dicentur pro nunc ad explanationem huius Textus, prie mo littera exponatur,
omne b eft a, omne c eſt b, igitur omne ceſta, uel omnis triangulus habet tres
duobus rectisæquales, qui conſtitutus eſt in tabula est triangulus, igitur qui
conſtitutus eft in tabula habet tres: duobus reétis æquales,ſed ſimul dicas o
charateres terminos,omne, b trigonum eſt habens tres angulos duobus rectis
æquales, omnec fen. fibiletriangulum eſt triangulum, igitur omne c ſenſibile
triangulum habet tres angulos æquales duobus re &tis. Cum teneret quis hanc
uni uerfalem, omnis triangulus habet tres angulos æquales duobus reétis nondum
fciebat, quòd ſenſibile triangulum effet huiuſmodi, quòd han beret tres,
uidelicet duobus re &tis æquales, niſi potentia, non autem actu; quàm
primum autemfyllogizauit ſubſumptaminore, statim intua. lit, «cognouit, quod
ſenſibilis triangulus, tres duobus rectis pares haberet. Cum autem ait
ſuſpicarinanque poſſet aliquis, non eſſec, non eft intelligendum, ſic ut Græci,
o omnes exponunt, quaſi quod ignos retur an fit c, fed hoc non uult Ariſtoteles
dicere,ſed cum inquit fufpicari nanque poſſet aliquis non eſſe c, hoc
intelligas modo, quod stante prima uniuerſali, poterit ignorare anc, habeat
tres duobus re &tis equales, licet non ignorauerit c effe, fed ignorabit c
eſſe huiuf modi, utputa, quod habeat tres duobus rectis æquales; ſcietigitur po
tentia in uniuerſali propofitione, Waétu ignorabit in particulari ante quàmfiat
fyllogiſmus. Syllogiſmo autem fačto,feu fa & ainduftione Geos trica de qua
inprimo posteriorum Textufecundo)a & tu ſcit, quòdfenſis bilis triangulus
duobus re&tis tres pares habeat,nihil igitur prohibetfi. Cij 20 IN SECVN.
RIO. ARIST. mulſcire, ignorareidem ſecundum diuerſa, ut ſcire potentia iniſud
uniuerſali, & antequam fiat inductio, oignorare ſimpliciter, ut pus ta in
particulari. DE ABDVCTIONE. UT Rurſus fi pauca ſint media ipſorumb, c, nanque
& fic proximius ipfi cognoſcere uelutiſid eſſet quadrati, in quo autem e,re
etilineum, in quo uero z circulus, fi ipfius é z ſolum eſſet medium,hoc, quod
eft cum lunulis, æqualem fieri circulum rectilineo ce ſīpoflet prope ipfum
cognofcere. In predicamento ad ili quid circa quadrare circulum fuit
determinatum quantum fiebat fa tis ad Ariſtotelis intentionem, e de quadratura
fuſius in fragmena tis noftris, fuper Logicis, multa declarabo, quo ad
preſentem te - xtum Ariſtoteles facit fyllogifmum, cuius minor, cumſit dubia e
oba ſcura, dicit unum eſſe medium ad probandam illam, arguit e, rectilis neun,
d quadratur, ſed z, circulus fit reetilineum, igitur circulum quadrari,poſſet
quis eſſe prope cognoſcere, minorem tentauit Antipho, Hypocrates chiusprobare
per id medium, quod lunulas ad rectilis neas figuras nixi ſunt reducere,
diuerſis tamen medijs, alio enim mos do tentauit Antipho, o aliter Hypocrates
chius, qux figure reetilis neæ reducebantur poſtea ad quadratum, eo artificio,
quo Euclides docet ultima ſecundi Elementorum, oſyllogiſmus connectatur ſic, ut
fimul dicam characteres, me terminos Ariſtotelis, e, rectilinea figura, d
quadratur, fed z circulus e figura rectilinea facta est, igitur zcirculus, d,
quadratur. IN PRIMVM LIBRVM POSTERIORVM ARISTOTELIS, PETRI CATHENÆ NOVA
INTERPRETATIO. TEXTVS SECVNDVS. VPLICITER autem neceffarium eft præ cognofcere,
alia nanque, quia ſunt prius opinarineceffe eft,aliaueroquid eft, quod dicitur
intelligere oportet, quædam autein utraque, ut quoniam omne quidem, quod eſt,
aut affirmare, aut negare uerumeſt quia eſt, Triangulum autem quoniam hoc
fignificat; ſed unitatem utraque, & quid ſignificat, eſt quia eft, non
eniin fimiliter horum unumquodque manifeftum eſt nos bis. Græci omnes, pariter
& Latiniuniuerſi confuſione plenum rede dunthoc in loco Ariſtotelem, nedum
qui ſcripſerunt, fed etiam recens tiores, quihac tempeſtate eum interpretantur,
& priuatis colloquijs, epublicis etiam lectionibus. Anſammultorum errorum
pofteris omnis bus prebuit. Ioannes Grammaticus Cognoinento Philoponus, ſuper
hoc Textu in cuius expoſitione plufquain errorum mille contra Ariſto telis
ſententiamfcripſit, qua decaufa, ipfa ueritate fretus, &uniuers fæ
logicorum utilitati conſulens, lucidum, facilein, atque clarum Aris stotelem in
hac parte reddere decreui, o inſaniam ignorantiæ depri = mere, ne etiam in
futura tempora amplius à forticulis doctrina tamclan
rißimiPhilofophilabefactetur, ſcito in primis, tres eſſe modos pres
cognofcendi, quos Aristoteles ponit, in hoc Textu, unicuique hos rum modorum
aptißimum,atquefacilimum exemplum poſuit, feruans exemplorum ordinem cum ordine
modorum precognofcendi, ſic, ut primo precognofcendi modo primum exemplum aptet,ſecundo
modoſe cundum, atque tertium tertio. Nequete perturbet, quod Ariſtoteles IN
PRIMVM LIB. ait, dupliciter fit neceſſarium præcognoſcere'. Tripliciter autem
dixes rim ego, primo autemmodo, opus eft præcognoſcere, quia eſt tantum, alio
autem modo, quid eft id, quod nomen dat intelligere folummodo quos duos modos
ab inuicem ſeiunctos, in tertio modo in unum aggregat uerum methodum
compoſitiuam ſeruans. Duo igiturfunt modi precos gnoſcendi, alter quidem in
parte oſeparatim, reliquus uero in totum, oin parte quidem biffariam. Vnus
tantum quia eft,reliquus uero tans tum quid ſignificet, in toto uero ille eft
modus, qui horum utrunque in ſe comple &titur. Exempla Ariſtotelis multos
Geometric ignaros turs batosego stupidos reliquerunt, qui ab Apoline reprehenfi,
&fpreti à Platone, uagantes fomniauerunt, hoc in loco, tria attůlliſje
Ariſtotes lem exempla, in ſcientijs diuerſis. Nempe Methaphisica,Geometria, O
Arithmetica, quod chimericum eſt, ex ipſa uunitate magis uanum, fi enim
ueftigijs fapientum Methaphiſices,Geometrie, & Arithmetica, prima limina
attigiſſent, non incidiſſent in hasſuas philoſophicas furias, dicunt enim, quod
artificio, id Ariſt. fecit,ut de demonſtratione agens, que inſtrumentum uniuerſale
est, tria exempla (ſuam oftendensfacuns diam ) in ſcientijs tribus fpeculatiuis,
&uniuerſalißimis attuliffe, ſic, uttandem concludant in ſua expoſitione
Ariſtotelem uoluiſſe equinam ceruicem humano capiti iungere, &uarias plumas
diuerſarum ſcien tiarum inducere, ut tandem tria formoſa, &pulcru exempla
deſinant in nihil dicere. In una demonſtratione, datum eſſet unitas, queſitum
triangulus, e principium Methaphiſicum, ualeat pereatque cim ins terpretibus
hæc interpretatio. Non est Ariſtotelis confuetudo, exeine pla afferre (aliter
effet edire &to contra exemplorum naturam ) niſi,ut do&trina, que
aliquatenus non innitiatis uidetur obfcura, atque diffi cilis, fole clarior,
atque perfacilis omnibus reddatur, quid rogo cons fufius, quàm in una re logica
explicanda, tria exempla mutila, o tim diuerfa afferre? ut in unotantum quia,in
alio exemplo,folum quid,c. in tertio exemplo, ey quia, &quid, ut tandem in
piſcem definat fora mofa demonſtratio. Dico, omnia tria exempla attulliſſe
Ariſtotelem in unica atque determinata Arte; uel diſciplina Geometrica,
quicquid Niphlus fentiat & fequaces, ex nulla eſt alia ueritas in hoc
Ariſtotelis Textu, neque uerus fenfus, qui ad Ariftotelem faciat preter hunc,
quem fubfcribo, uelint nolint omnes atque uniuerſi, qui philoponifena tentie
initi uidentur, quem nullo modo ipſemet nec alij recteintelligunt, fcito primum,
quod de lineis re&tis a centro ad circunferentiam du &tis POSTERIORVM
ARISTOT. Veruin eſt dicere quod ad inuicem funt æquales, uel non equales, ut
etian de quolibet quidem quod est,aut affirmare,aut negare ucrum est,quia eſt,
fimiliter,quòd quæ uni og eidem funt æqualia interſe funtæqualia,uel in terſe
nonſunt æqualia, uerum est dicere quia eſt,ſed alteram partem hu ius diſiun £
ti fummit Geometra deffinitione xv. primi Elementorum, cum Similiter alterum
alterius diſiunéti partem prebet prima animi conceptio primi elementorum,
&hoc est uerum, quia est linearum à centro ad circunferentiam protractarum,
ut adinuicem ſintequales, « prima ani mi conceptionis,utſiab æqualibus equalia
auferantur remanentia æqua lia erunt. Secundo loco exemplum poſitum est,quid
hæc uox, Triangulus ſignificet,quod etiam fupponit Geometra deffinitione xxi.
primi Elemen torum, ex ſignificatfiguram tribus re &tis lineis contentam,ſiue
illud actu ſit ſiue actu non ſit, Quatenus tamen quæritur,nondü habetur,poteft
tas men eſſe. Tertio loco ponit Ariſt.unitatem,quæ quidem unitas, a quid
ſignificet, quia eft,utrunque habet. Hanc ego unitatem contra oma nes loquentes,
« ad Ariſtotelis ſententiam aio, eſſe non eam, qua unaquaque res una dicitur,ut
ea quæ eft principium numeri, ſed eſtres queuna ab illa unitate, quæ eſt
principium numeri dicitur, nempe una linea recta data ſuper quam triangulum
collocare oportet, ſiue ille fit æquilaterus, ut Euclides proponit, uel
iſoſcelesaut gradatus, ut Arisſtoteles querit in uniuerſum, quod quidem Proclum
diadocum,& Cam panumfuper primum primi Elementorum, non latuit, quæ unitas
linea feu quæ linea una concluditur in decimaquarta primi Elementorum, tàm quàm
queſitum, in qua quidem decimaquarta primi Elementorum ni hil de unitate, quæ
fit principium numeri, ſed, una linea concludi tur, quæ linea una eſt datum
inprimo problemate primi elementorum Euclidis, de qua lineæ unitate
precognoſcitur, quid, utſit a puncto in punctum breuiſsima extenſio per
diffinitionem tertiam primi elemehtoa rum, precognoſcitur etiam, quia est,cum
ipfa detur in prima pros poſitione primi elementorum. Ab Euclidis igitur
methodo non recedens Ariſtoteles facilitat, declarat exemplis ubique
locorumfuam do&tria hæc igitur uera atque germana Ariſtotelis interpretatio
eft, alia, ut dixi nulla, fomnia igitur quæcunque diluantur, putas ne Arie
ftotelem afferre illud Methaphiſice principium, nullo modo ad artem ali quam
peculiarem contractum, uni Tirunculo in Logica inſtituendo? ubi Methodus? que
maior ordinis peruerſio? quis nam in Logicum eua dere poterit niſi prius
Methaphiſicis inniciatus fit? hec omnia uanis 11 nam, IN PRIMVM'LIB. 2 tate
plena ſunt, non faciunt niſi ad buccas inflandas. De unitate aus temdicit
Ioannes ſic Ariſtotelem intelligere, ſicut docet Euclides pros
poſitioneſextadecima ſeptimi Elementorum, fi unitas numeret quemli bet numerum,
quoties quilibet tertius aliquein quartum, erit quoque, pernutatim,ut quoties
unitas numerabit tertium, toties ſecundus quar tum numerauerit, datum inquit
Ioannes, eſt unitas, quæ eft principium numeri, de qua habetur &quid, &
quia eft, o ſi hoc exemplo uidea tur Ioannes ueritatem quidem dicere, licet non
ad mentem Ariſtotelis. Dico tamen quod Ariſtoteles neq; exponitur, &
quòdfalfum eft,id quod Ioannes dicit,ut quod unitas,quæ eſt principium numeri,
fit datum,non enim eſt unitas datum in ſextadecima ſeptimi Elementorum, fed
unitas cum refpeétu ad numerum aliquem, quem numerat, eſt datum, que = ſitum
autem eſt, ut ipfa tertium numerum numeret, ut ſecundus nus merus numerat
quartum, quemadmodum amplius declarabitur in de tris plici errore circa
uniuerſale.Preterea dignitas ſiue premiſſa in hac loan nis indu &tione eſt
duodecinaſeptimi Elementorum, que probatur per precedentes, onon eſt immediatum
principium,exponitigitur Ariſtoc telem per unam demonſtrationem, quæ non
procedit per immediata prin cipia, quod non eſt imaginandumin hoc propoſito,
preualet igitur ex poſitio de unitate lineæ, quia ibifit deductio per immediata
principia ut per xv.deffinitionem,& prima animi conceptionem primi
Elementorum Ecce quàm aliena est loannis expoſitio ſuper Textum Ariſtotelis.
Die co igitur datum, eſſe unam rectam lineam, quæſitum, ut ſuper ipfarn
trigonum conſtituatur, &quod, id conſtitutum, ſit trigonum, probas tur per
decimamquintam deffinitionem, vprimam animi conceptionem primi elementorum.
TERTIVS TEXT V S. ST autem cognoſcere alia quidem prius cognofcentem. Aliorum
vero, & fimul notitiam capientem, ut quæcunque, con= tingunt eſſe ſub
uniuerſalibus quorum haa bent cognitionem; quòd quidem omnis triangulus habet
tres Angulos æquales duobus rectis præfciuit, quòd uero hic, qui in ſemicirculo
cft, triangulus fit, fimul inducens cognouit. Duos modos ſciendi POSTERIORVM
ARIST. ſciendi hoc textu tangit Ariſtoteles, primus, qui eft per reminiſcens
tiam,de quo nondubitarunt antiqui. Alter uero, es ſecundus est, quo de nouo
aliquid ſcimus, qui fuit alienus ab antiquorum mentibus, ſur per hocſecundo,
ſit noſtra expoſitio. Ioannes Grammaticushanc para ticulam, fimul inducens
cognouit, interpretatur fic,ut per inducen tem intelligat eum, qui habens
triangulum in ſemicirculo pićtum, ofub penula abſconſum, oftendat eum
triangulum eſſe, quaſi abijciens penus lam, ey aperiens manum obijciat ipfum
triangulumoculis uidere uolens tium, &Latini omnes fimiliter,& Aueroes
fequuntur ipſum in hac interpretatione. Non poſſum non mirari hominisiftius
alias doétißimi expoſitionem & omnium fequatium,que quidem interpretatio,
fi ads mitatur,statim uidetur, quod Ariſtoteles uanus ſophifta effectus, id do
ceat, quod ipſe reprehendit contramale foluentes,ubiinquit in fequenti
textu,Nemoaccipit talem propofitionem,oinnis triangulus quem tu ſcis eſle
triangulum,quod utique illi agebant de dualitate abſconfa inmanu,quòd
neſciebant eameffe parem, quouſq;nonuiderent quòd illa eſſet dualitas. Ioannes
&omnes interpretes Ariſtotelis allucis nati ſunt, putantes quod illa
littera Ariſtotelis ſic debeat legi, quod ues ro est in femicirculo triangulus
fit, fimul inducens cognouit;cognouit quidem quodfit triangulus, per
induétionem, id eſt per oſtenſionem ad oculum, aperta manuin qua abfcondebatur,
ſic ut illa induétio certificet de eſſe triangul, quod ridiculum est, o uſque
ad hæc tempora, falfum pro uero habitum,henuga deſtruunt Ariſtotelis ſententiam;
non enim Ariſtoteles de trigono in ſemicirculo defcripto dubitat an trigonum
ſit, neque igitur estopus, ut dubium remoueatur per oſtenſionem ad oculum quòd
trigonum ſit, quia ut dixi, hoc non reuocatur in dubium, ſed has bita, hac
uniuerſali,omnis triangulus habet tres æquales duobus res Etis, dubitatur an
qui in ſemicirculo eft triangulus, &qui quidein a &tu uideturſit
huiufmodi, utputa, quòd habeattres angulos equales duo bus rečtis, quod quidem
manifeftatur non per ſenſitiuum indu &tio s nem, quia per illam oftenditur
tantum quòd fit triangulus, ut illi mda li interpretes exponunt. Neque id
oftenditur per inductioncm Topia cam, que à particularibus ad uniuerfalem
procedit, ocontrariatur huic poſterioriſtico proceſſui, quifit ab uniuerſali ad
particularia, rea ftat igitur declarare quæ induétio fit illa de qua loquitur
Ariſtoteles, quam dicunt aliqui elle ſenſitiuam, aliter tamen ſenſitiuam quàm
loans nes Grammaticus intelligat, dicunt enim quod talis fenfitiua oftenfio 1 1
D IN PRIM VM LIB. couptatur in Syllogiſmoſic, omnis triangulus habet tres
angulos equat les duobus rectis, ſed hic qui in ſemicirculo, eſt triangulus,
igitur hic qui in ſemicirculo, habet tres duobus rectis aquales,ecce
inquiunt,quos modo minor eſt ſenſitiua, quia ponitur illud pronomen oftenfiuum,
isti funt in errore maiori forſan quàm precedentes, putant eniin quod illud
pronomen, &fimilia pronomina ſint oſtenſiua ad fenfum, quid igitur dicendum
erit de hisloquutionibus,hic Apolo eſt cui barbam abraderefe cit Dioniſius,
huic Apolini coronam Papus, iufsit fieri, & iſte Aurifexfædauit aurum;
ueletiam iſte est Euclides,quem Plato in theetes to commemorat, non ne omnia
ifta pronomina oſtenfiua, funt ad intela lectum, & ſi quandoque per
accidens ad ſenſum ſint oſtenſiua? ideo pronomen in iủa minori, ſiper accidens
oftendatad ſenſum, oſtenſia uum tamen precipue eft ad intellectum, aliter cecus
non poffet illum Syla logiſmum efficere, quòd manifefte falfum eft, ueritas non
eis obuiam uenit ſic interpretantibus.Laborant adhuc dicentes,quod ila inductio
nil aliud est quàmfubfumptio huius minoris, fed hic qui inſemicirculo est
triangulus, fub illa uniuerſali nota, omnis triangulus habet tres angulos
æquales duobus reétis, illam quidem diſpoſitionem premijarum in figus ra
&modo, uocant inductionem, hoc autem non facit fatis ad Ariſtotea lis
litteram; quia ante quam inferatur concluſio, neſcitur de triangulo conſtituto
inſemicirculo quod tres habeat duobus reftis æquales niſi po= tentia, poſt quam
autem illatafuerit concluſio,fcitur a &tu, o noi ama plius potentia, quòd
uult Ariſtoteles,ut poſt quàmfactus fuerit ocoma pletus ſyllogiſmus,
fimpliciter ſcitur,quod qui in tabula,habet tres æqua, les duobus rectis.
Agamus igitur & nos,o. Ariſtotelis litteram prius diſponamus, ſubinde
ſententiam exponamus.. De triangulo uero in feinicirculo conſtituto fimul
inducens cognouit. Simulcum uniuerſale triangulo ſcit ipſum particularem
trianguluna, quòd habet tres æquales duobus rectis, &hoc,inducens, uerbum
hoc inducens du asinductiones ſignificat. Alteram Geometricam,reliquam
ſyllogiſticam, quæ etiam ordine ponuntur in littera Ariſtotelis dicentis,antequàm
in duétum ſit,uelfactus fuerit fyllogifmus, quæ duo uerba, non ſunt fynow nima,
ita ut und &eadem res per, utrunque uerbum, inductum ſit, uel fa&
usfuerit fyllogiſmus ſignificetur, quia in doctrinis,non utitur termin nis
ſynonymis,neque Ariſtoteles multiplicat uoces, terminos ean dem rem
ſignificantes. Dicendum igitur, quod aliam rem uox hæc indue dio, &aliam
ifta uox,fyllogiſmus,ſignificat, non gūteſt indu &tio aliqua POSTERIORVM
ARISTT. prediétismodisfupra citatis, ut probatum fuit, relinquitur igitur, ut
inductio per quam ſcimus,quodtreshabeat æquales duobus reitis is,qui
infemicirculo defcriptus est,nulla alia fit,neque excogitari poſsit quàm
Geometrica induétio. Ila autem huiufmodi est, fuppofita deſcription per
trigeſimamprimum primi Elementorum, Angulus c b d eft æquas lis ang ulo & c
b, per primam par tem uigeſimenos lice primi Ele - mentorum Euclia dis,
&Angulus dibe equalis eft ang ulo cab per fecundam partem uigeſimenone
primi elementorum, totus igitu * cbe, eſt æqualis duobus angulis cøa, fed cbre,
cum c b a per xiij. primi Elementorum equiualet duobusrectis, igitur angulia,
cum eodem c b a, funt equales duobus reétis,quod inducendum erat, de triangulo
ac b in ſemicirculo deſcripto,qui triangulus non erat abſcon fus immo ante
oculos offerebatur, tamen illa oblatio,non erat inductio de qua Ariſtoteles
intelligit, quam inductionem quis unquam utcun queetiam intin &tus litteris
dicet, unum eſſe fyllogifmum? quofyllogif mounico (it inferius declarabo)
poteratidemfyllogizari, neque enthis meina unum eft, cum ibi multe ſint
conſequentie, Enthimemaautem und tantum conſequentia eft, quòd neque Topica,
inductio, patet; quia ibi à ſingularibus ad uniuerfalem progredimur,in hac
autem induétioneper decimamtertiam Guigeſimănonam primi Elementorum,quæ
uniuerſales magis funt quàmſecunda pars trigeſimæfecundæ primi Elementorum per
quam patet intentum de triangulo in tabula conſtituto. Neque mi reris quod in
hacinduétione non fumitur illa maior, omnis triangulus habet tresangulos
æqualesduobus re&tis, quia illa fumiturin inductione fyllogiftica, in
inductione uero Geometrica, fumitur decimatertia,cui gefimanona primi
Elementorum, in utraque induktione cumGeometri ca,tum etiam fyllogiſtica fit
proceſfusab uniuerſalı ad particulare,uel ad minus uniuerſale, Syllogiſtica
uero induétio,ex duabus premiſsis, illa ta concluſione conſiſtit,
quafyllogiſtica indu &tione fæpeutitur Ariftoteles ut Tex.xciiy.Secundum
partitionem loan.Grammatici,uel Textu trigeſi monono in paraphraſi, in magna,
pero expoſitione Tex.clxiij.prima Dü IN PRIMVM LI B. poſteriorum, & alibi,
habita o ſcita hac uniuerſali, omnis triangulus habet tres equales duobus reétis,fatur
modo aliquo idem de conſti tuto in ſemicirculo triangulo, ſimpliciter autem non
fcitur,ofacta ine duftione ſyllogiſticaſimpliciter ſcitur, quod qui in
femicirculo eft triane gulus, ſit huiuſmodi, ſicut ſcita
decimitertiaeuigeſimanona primi elee mentoruin ſcitur potentia, quod qui in
ſemicirculo eſttriangulus, duo bus rectis tres habeat pares,licet nefciat, an
qui in ſemicirculo,fit triana gulus,ut Ariſtot,ait Tex.101. uel 169.a{tu autem,
o ſimpliciter fcitur per Geometricam induétionem, quæ ſemper ex ueris, primis,
caufis ila latiuis conclufionis, ex magis notis procedit, non autem ex immediaa
tis ſemper, nequc ex cauſis quedant eße, fed ex his tantum, quæ dant propter
quid iŪationis, tale inſtrumentum quod induétionemGeomes tricam uoco,non est
una conſequentia, fed plures, ut plurimum, neque per immediatafemper procedit,fedalternatim
per immediata, oper ea que probatafunt procedit,inmediata autem, uoco
propoſitiones per fe notas, etiam illas propoſitiones demonſtratas,quæ
immediate proz bant fequentes, de hoc quidem toto inſtrumento non aliter
Ariftoteles traftauit, nifi per particulas illas, utſupra commemoratas, ut ex
ues ris Oc. Tractauit tamen de fuis partibus, ut de enthymemate, quòd pluries
fumitur in tali induétione Geometrica,o de fyllogiſmo, ad quem reducitur talis
inductio,non tamenadunun tantum,ſed ad pluresfyllogif mos, neque uelim dicas
propter hoc, quod Logica, Geometriam debeat precedere,utplacet nonnullis niſi
deLogica,que natura nobis ſuccurrit. Quorundam enim hoc modo diſciplina eft,
& non per inedium ultimum cognofcitur, ut quæcunque fingularia jamelle
contingit, uec de fubiecto quoppiam. Hunc locum Ariſtotelis extorquent
penė.omnes,uerum quidemdicunt, ſed in fua ues ritate duo errores continentur,
primus eft, quod interpretatio non est ad propofitum, fecunduserror, quia id
quodaiunt contradicit huicloa ÇO Ariſtotelis, inquiunt enim, quod per medium,
ſcitur ultimum, hoc est, quod ultimum. Nempe maior extremitas concluditur per
medium de ipſa extremitate minori. V.ideas quanta fit horum hominum uanitas,
Ariſtoteles negatiue loquitur. Et non per medium ultiinum cox gnoſcitur. Ipfi
autem uani exponunt, per medium ultimum cognofcia tur, aduertendum quod medium
in propoſito intelligit Ariſtoteles,quod non tantum fitu,medium intelligas,
quod bis in premißis capitur, fed me dium hoc loco,nil penitus aliud est quam,
quodquid eft ipſius rei, ut POSTERIORVM A R IST. fparfim in primo poſteriorum,
e in ſecundo manifeftuin eſt, in pri moenim, Textu 201. Juxta partitionein
philoponi, uel 39. uel Textu 169. iuxta aliain partitionem; ait Ariſtoteles,
quod uniuerſale mon ſtratur per medium, &non particulare; uerbi gratia,hic
non per mea dium,omnis homoest riſibilis Socrates eft homoigitur Socrates eſt
riſi bilis, ly enim hono, non eft quodquid est, ſed eſt ſubiectum, hic uero per
medium, omne animal rationale eſt riſibile, omnis homoeſt aniinat rationale,
ergo omnishomo eft riſibilis, ibi enim animal rationale eft mes dium, fi inftes
fic,omne animal rationale eſt riſibile Socrates est animal rationale,igitur
Socrates est riſibilis. Dico quòd hoc non eft per fe,eta primo de Socrate, quòd
fit animal rationale, nec etiam riſibile per ſe, & immediate,argués igitur
fic,omnis triangulus habet tres æquales duo bus rectis,fed qui in ſemicirculo,
eſt triangulus, igitur qui in ſemicir= culo habet tresæqualesduobus rectis. Ibi
enim triangulus non eft quot quid eſt, ſed potius ſubie &tum, feu genus,
ibi igitur non eſt demonſtras tio, licet fit fyllogifmus, &fi adhuc
inftetur,quod per decimumtertiam &uigefimamnonam prini,demonftretur quòd
qui in femicirculo, ha beat tres equales duobus rectis, igitur ei qui in
ſemicirculo eſt, non con uenit; quia triangulus;fed per decimamtertiam
euigeſimamnonam pris mi Elementorum. Dico quod in inductione Geometrica, qua de
triana gulo in ſemicirculo cöftituto oftendebatur,quod habet tres æquales duos
bus rectis per decinătertiam (uigefimamnonam primi, id immediate nõ conuenit
triangulo quatenusſit in femicirculo deſcriptus, fed ut trian. gulus eſt, ut
oſtenditur ſecunda parte trigeſimeſecunde primi Elemen torum,fecundoautem,
&per fe non immediate,omnibus alijs triangulis. Quorundam igitur
ſingularium (quorum quodque non predicatur de ali quo ſubiecto,
quiafingularenon predicatur deſubiecto aliquo, ut in pre dicamentis
determinatum est ab Ariſtotele ) diſciplina est, non per medium, ultimum
cognofcitur, cognofcitur quidem ultimum nempe mie iorem extremitatemineſſe
minori,fedhoc non permedium, id est non per quod quid est. Si vero non eft ita,quæ
in Menone contin. get dubitatio, aut enim nihiladdiſcet feruus Menonis,aut quæ
prius nouit addiſcet non eniin iam ueluti quidam ni. tuntur foluere dicendum
eft particula illa. Si uero non eſt ita,videlicet fi non eft fcire de nouo,ab
uniuerſali ad particulare progre diendo; tunc, quæ in Menone eſt, contingit
dubitatio, particuld illa: Non enim iam. Yerbum illud iamfuturi temporis eſt,
fic utfit ſens I N P R IM VM LIB.ſus habita mea doctrina,omodo quo dixi, nos
fcire de nouo,quod id addiſcimus, quod tamen aliquo modo fcimus, non foluas
poſt hac, eo modo, quo illi nitebantur foluere, fed eo palto ut predocui, it de
omni dualitate fciens quod par ſit, de abfconfa in many dicas, quòd etiam de ea
fcis potentia, quodſcit par. Veluti quidam nituntur ſoliere dicendum eſt.
Exponunt Latini &Græci,hunc locum fic,quidam Platonici dicentes, nos nihil
fcia rede nouo,fed fcire noſtrum eratreminiſci arguebant illos, qui dices bant
quod de nouo fcimus, &nitebantur Platonici ducere eos in contra dictionem,hoc
argumento interrogatiuo, aiunt enim Platonici ipſi jos ne omnem dualitatem eſe
parem, nec ne anuunt quidam dicentes nos de nouo ſcire, ita eſſe, ſübinde
atulerunt Platonici dualitatem dicentes, igitur fciebatis etiam hanc dualitatem,
quam manu tegebamus eſſe pas rem, quod tamen effe non poteſt, quia nefciebatis
ipſam eſſe dualitatem ecce contradictio, prius fatebantur ſeſcire
omnemdualitatein eſſe par rem, &tamen neſciebantdualitatem hanc parem eſſe,
quod manifeſtum contradictorium eft, reſpondebant autem illi, qui dicebant
nosfcire de nouo, quod interrogati de omni dualitate, an par effet,
reſponderunt non de omni dualitate abſolute, fed de dualitate quam utique dualitatem
effe ſciebant, modo de illa, quæ abfconfam tenebant, oque non erat fibi nota,
ut eſſe dualitas, non fatebantur illam eſſe parem, quia neſciebant illam effe
dualitatem, ita ut hec expoſitio, eotendat, ut Ariſtoteles res prehendat illos,
qui dicebant nos ſcire de nouo, quia male foluebant Argumentum Platonicorum,
xnihil dicat Ariſtoteles contra Platoni. Cos. Expositio autem mea, e directo
opponitur, huic omnium expofie tioni, ſic ut Ariſtoteles arguat Platonicos male
foluentes argumentum dicentium nosfcire de nouo, & contra hos dicentes,
quòd fcimus deno uo, nihil in hoc Textu dicit Ariſtoteles. Pro cuiusfententia
declaranda, Queritate, est in primis aduertendum, quod in hoc textu, quoſdam in
telligit Ariſtoteles dicentes, quòd de nouo nos fcire contingit aliquid, quod
tamen etiam preſciebamus in uniuerfali, oiſti inquiſitiuo argu mento probant
intentum contra tenentes, quòd ron ſcimus quippiam de nouo, quorum negantium de
nouofcire reſponſionem redarguit Ariſtoa teles, einterargüendum, peccant og
errant in perſuadendo id, quod probare nituntur, quem errorem, &peccatum
dicentium nos de nouo ſcire, non redarguit Ariſtoteles propter duas cauſas,
altera est, quia eft adeo manifeftus, ut fine reprehenſione à quolibet
cognofcatur pre POSTERIORVM ARIST. meil, habita intelligentia primi textus
huius primi, reliqua caufa quare: non eos redarguit est, quia primo textu
feclufit fuam perſuaſionem, dicens omnis doétrina, o diſciplina intellectiua a
diſcurſiua, ex præexiftens ti fit cognitione, ex preexiſtenti non quidem
ſenſitiua, quia illa à Singue laribus ad uniuerſalem, hæc uero poſterioriſtica
e contrario, ab uniuer ſali ad fingulare procedit, ideo eos non reprehendit
Ariſtoteles, quia, quifq; per fe intelle &to primo Tex.cognoſcit; quo modo
errabat ilii inter arguendum. Inquiunt enim arguentes, noftis neomnem
dualitatem effe parem necne? afferentibus Platonicis attullerunt eis quandam
dualitas tem, quam non exiſtimabant eſſe, quare neque parem, en dicebant iſti
arguentes, ſciebatis in uniuerſali, quod omnis dualitas est par, otas hoc,
ideſt paritatem de hac dualitate, qua manu abſcondebatur neſciebatis,
quiaignorabatis quid eſſetin manu, num dualitas,uel quips piam aliud, autnihil,
« nunc uos fcitis iam per apertionem manus prius eam tegentis, in particulari
hanc determinatam, & particularem dualitatem eſſe parem, ecce quomodo ab
uniuerſalicognitione deuentum fuerit in cognitionem particularis, quod prius
dubium apud uos erat. isti ſic arguentes peccant contra primum textum, utſupra
dixi, ocon tra Tex. 112. Neque per ſenſum eft fcire, putabant autem isti ars
guentes illam intuitiuam ſenſationem eſſe doctrinam ſeu diſciplinam. Quia tamen
cum Ariſtotele in intentione, quod de nouo fcimus, & quia etiam error in
perſuadendo manifeſtus eft, ut predocui, de intelle &tiua quidem &
diſcurſiua diſciplina loquitur Ariſtot.ut de uirtute in uniuer ſali etiam in
Menone erat ſermo ideo modo Ariſtoteles dimittit illos,tam quàm non
concludentes propoſitum, quodfatebantur, & diuertit ſe ad Platonicosmale
foluentes argumentum,tenentes quod id quodaliquo mo do ſcimus non poſſumus de
nouo addiſcere, uel quòd nostrum ſcire,fit re miniſci, foluunt argumentum ſic,
non enim fatebantur Platonici ornem dualitatem eſſe parem, neque dixerunt
ſeſcire omnem dualitatem eſſe pa rem,ſed dixeruut dualitatem, quam utique
nouerunt dualitatem effe, mo do cum neſciuerint, an id, quod manu tegebatur
effet dualitas, neque ali quo pacto fciebantipſam eſſe parem uel etiam imparem,quiaſic
aiebant, prius,debemusſcire,an fit dualitas,&poſted,an parfit,uel etiam
impar, ita ut quandointerrogati fuerant,an omnem dualitatein ſcirent eſſe parë
uel imparem reſponderunt utique de dualitate hoc ſcire, quam quidem dualitatem
eſſe nouerant, uerum eſſe, ſed de dualitate in manu abſconſa, nihil fciebant,
nec quippiam deea aliquo modo fciebant, ideo nefciebant IN PRIMVM LIB. 3 idem
uno modo, ut in uniuerſali de illa dualitate,quòd effet par, u idem ut quod
effet par ignorarent in particulari, atqui ſciunt cuius des monſtrationem
habent, & cuills acceperunt. Acceperunt autem non de omni, de quo utique
nouerint; quòd triangulum aut quod numerus ſit, ſed fimpliciter acceperunt;
illi arguebant deomni numero duali, atque triangulo,&c. Similiter
reſponderunt illi, quod ſciebant omnem dualitatem efle parem. Verba hæcfunt
Ariſtotelis contra tales reſpondentes,nullus enim propo nitſeu interrogat, aut
nulla propoſitio accipitur talis, quòd quem tu. noſti eſſe numerum dualem,
nofti ne eſſe parem? aut quam noſti rectili neam figuram eſſe triangulum, quòd
habeat tres æquales duobis reétis? ſed accipit de omni numero duali, ede omni
figura rectilinea trilatera, quis enim proponeretſuo tam inerudito colloquio
fic,nunquid nofti oma nem dualitatem quam eſſe dualitatem nofti, quòd par fit,autnon?ines
ptam igitur, contra loquendi modumfolutionem reprehendit Ariftot. reprehendens
quidem Platonicos malefoluentes, cui non illos de nouo fci re dicentes perperam
arguentes; &modum fciendiquo de nouo fcimus fimpliciter id, quod potentia
ſciebamus epylogando dicit, Sed nihil (ut opinor) prohibet, quod addiſcit
aliquis ſic in particula ri, ante ſciuiſſe in uniuerſali, & in particulari
priusignos raſſe, abfurdum enim non eft,fi nouit quodam modo, quod addiſcit,
ſed ita eſſet abfurdum, ut inquantum ads diſcit, co pacto ſciat. Idem diſcurſus
&expoſitio fiat ſuper Textu fecundo priorum, in capitulo de Deceptione
ſecundum fufpitionem, qué etiam Textum perperam interpretātur pſeudo
philofophi. De dualitate autemſiquis nunc interrogaretur, noſti ne omnem
dualitatem eſſe parent nec ne? annuat quod ſic, o ſi offeratur abfconfa in
manus dualitas, dia cat quod etiam ſcit eam in potentia parem effe, licet
neſciat a & u, quod dualitas ſit,e eft fententia Ariſtotelis Textu 101.0 in
hoc Textuhas bita una atque altera interpretatione, cui dubium eft fecundam
eſſe pres ftantiorem prima?niſi quis dicat primam eſſe preſtantiſsimorum philo
fophorum tàm ueterum Græcorum quàm Latinorum omnium prefertim iuniorum mentem
Ariſtotelis interpretantium, fecunda uero interpre tatio noua est, o hominis
uniusfolius,quæ nullo modo preualere poteft contra tam
preclariſsimosphilofophos, quihæc uerba, &fimilia proa ferunt ex Macrologia
loquuntur,non ualentes intelligere nifi ea, que auctoritate proponuntur, fpreta
ueritate ege ratione, quis iam tam inerudit POSTERIORVM ARIST. neruditus est,
quipPomba Platonicos, qui ætatem confumpferunt in fua opinione de reminiſcentia,
argumentari contra Peripateticos, niſi a Peripateticis prouocati ſint?
&quomodo prouocari poſſunt niſi exci tentur? quo pa &to excitabuntur,
nifi co argumenti modo, quem in ſecunda interpretatione narrauimus? deinde
quare magis redarguit Ari ſtoteles ſemiperipateticos illos, qui
conueniebantfecum in concluſione, quàm illos, quie diametro cpinabantur contra
ipfum? depoſitaigitur emulatone iudicet id quiſque, quodmagisueritatem ſapit,
uerum eſſe, O rationi magis conſentaneum, & erit,fifecunde interpretationi
be rebit, primafpreta, &neglecta omni ex parte. TEXTVS NON VS. ERA quidem
oportet eſſe,quoniam non eſt fcire quod non eft,ut quòd diameter fit fie meter.
De diametro, coſta pluribus locis Arifto telesſermonemfacit, utinprioribus,
& in Methaphy: ficis, quapropter, hoc loco declarabo eius fententiam, ut
poſteafit omnibus in locis clara, primoſcire debes, quod uera eſſe oportet ea,
quæ fciuntur, ita ut ueritas ſuſcipiatur pro illa ueritate que est in
concluſione, &non pro ueritate, quæ in prins cipijs est, a hoc probat
indire & te, quia fi falfum ſciremus, utputa quod diameter eſſet
commenfurabilis coſte, tunc imparia æqualia paribus fierent, o e conuerſo, ut
ſi paria equalia imparibusfunt, igitur diame ter eft coftæ commenfurabilis,
quod estfalfumſi igitur hocſciremus,ſci remus utique quippiam ex non ueris, fed
pofuit, quòd fcire ex ueris fit, igiturſciremus ex non ueris &ex ueris,
quod eſſe non poteft per immea diatam contradi tionem.Diametrum
igiturincommenfurabilem cofte ef ſe noſcimus, quia impar pari æqualisnon eſt,in
qua re,talis eſt demons ftratio ſecundum Euclidis ſcitum in decimo Elementorum,
qua ducitur ad hocincommodum, pofita iſta, quòd diameterſit commenfurabilis co
ftæ,fequitur, quod numerus impar eſſet par, quod eftcontra primum principium ab
Euclide poſitumfeprimo Elementorum ſexta &feptima deffinitionibus,uel etiam
nono Elementorum prima &ſecundafecundum Campanum. In quare demonftranda fit
diameter a b commenfurabis lis lateri a c (li ponatur) erit per quintam decimi
Elementorum ab ad ac, ficut aliquis numerus ad alium numerum, quia illa
communis, mene Б IN: P R I MVM LIB. b Cee '. fo... h............. g k.... ei6
fo L. m 64 kıż8 h 81. a. fura,fehabebit ad illas duas lineds, diametrumfilicet,
&coſtam a bigo á c, ficut unitas ad unum atque ad alium numerum,unitas enim
ut duos numeros illos metitur, ſic illa communis menſura diametrum, o coſtam
dimetiretur,cuius rei ſenfus eſt iſte, quòd quoties continebitur in uno ats que
altero numerorum unitas, toties illa communis menfura, quæ linea eft,
continebitur in diametro, atque coſta, fint ergo numeri e @ f, qui ſint minimi
in fua proportione, eritque ob hoc, alter eorum impar, quod fic probatur, fi
enim uterque eorum effet par, non eſſent iammis nimi in fua proportione, ſi
enim par uterqueſit,uterque biffariam die uidi poſſet, outraque mediet asunius
ad utramque alterius medietatem eandem haberet rationemficut totum ad totum,quorumfunt
medietates, ut patet de octonario atq; ſenario, cuius medietates ſunt quatuor,
& qut tuor, atque tria etria,eadem enim fexquitertiaest,octo ad fex, qua
tuorad tria, ſic e ofnon eſſentminimi inſua proportione quod est contra
aſſumptum, quia fuæ medietates effent minores, quadratiigitür illorum minimorum
e « f, ſint ge h, ſi ergo e eſſet impar, a f par, erit quoque per trigeſimam
noni Elementorum g impar, fit itaque k duplus ad h, eritque k par,ex
deffinitione prima noni Eleinentorum, quia igitur a b ad a c, ut e -ad f, erit
per decimamodtauam fexti, ego decimāprimam octaui Elementorum, quadratum ab ad
quadratum ac, ut g ad h, eſt itaque g duplus ad h, ſic enim est quadratun a b
ad quadratum a c per penultimam primi Elementorum, quia ita k, etiam dupluseft
ad h per affumptum,ſequitur per nonam quinti Elemen torum, ut g numerus impar,ſit
equalis K numero pari. Quod fi e fit par, f impar, erit proportio f ad dimidium
e, quod fit L, ficut POSTERIORVM ARIST. 4 c ad dimidium ab, quod ſit ad, o ideo
erit quadrati a c ad quadratum a d, ficut proportio numeri h, quieſt impar per
trigeſi mamnoni Elementorumadquadratuin numeri L, quifit m, cui K poa natur
effe duplus, eritque K per deffinitionem primam noni Elemento rum par, at quia
quadratum a c est duplum ad quadratum a d per penultimam primi Elementorum,
erit h duplus ad m. Cumque Kſit etiam duplus ad m, erit per nonam quinti, impar
b, aequalis K nus mero pari, quod impoßibile à principio proponebatur
demonftrandum C f............ go!" k...... A Et ſi diceretur, quòd uterque
eorum, quiſunt in fuaproportione mis nimi, ſit impar, ut quinque ad tria, ut
ſcilicet e ſit quinque, ef tria quadrati illorum fint go b, eritigitur utraque
eorum quadra= ta inparia per trigeſimam noni Elementorum, ſit itaque K duplus
ad h, eritque k par ex deffinitioneprimanoni Elementorum,quia igis. tur a bad a
c, ut e ad f, erit per decimamoctauam fextielementorum vundecimam
octaui,quadratum ab ad quadratum a c, ut g ad h, eſt. itaque g duplus ad h, fic
enim est quadratum a b ad quadratum ac, per penultimam primi elementorum, &
quia etiam k duplus est ad h.. per affumptionem fequitur, per nonam quinti
elementorum, ut g numea rus impar ſit, æqualis k numero pari, quod est
impoſsibile. Illatum, ſeu concluſio habita per hanc induftionem Geometricam eft,quod
impar par ſit, Ariſtoteles autem dicit, quòd diametrum effe comenſurabilem
coft.e non ſcimus, quia ita non est, ſic ut illud fit conclufum, wnor af
fumptum, ut in predi&ta indutione fa& um est. Vt autem fiatconcluſio
Bij 336 " IN PRIMVM LIB. “, id, quod aſſumptum fuit, aduertendum, quod ut
Ariftoteles in prima Poſteriorum determinat, Geometra non parallogizat, fed
tota illa Geo metrica inductio est conſequentia formalis,quæ in omnibustenet,
cs.com cludit,nequeinquit, parallogizat Geometra, ut textus 62 probat Arift.
ſubinde aliud etiam eſt aduertendum, ut in Topicis determinatAri ſtoteles,
oſparſim in Logica fua, quod illa formalis eſt conſequentit, quando ex oppoſito
confequentis infertur antecedentis oppoſitum, mos do cum ex contradiétione
poſita, ut diametrum cofte eſſe commenfuram bilem,ſequutum fit quòd impar
numerus fit par, exoppoſito igitur con ſequentis, ut per numerus eft æqualis
impari, igitur diameter coms menſurabilis ex coſte, id autem fequitur ex falfo
poſito, ut quod ime parſit æqualis pari,igitur id quodſciretur, non eſſèt ex
ueris, ſedpoſie tum fuit quod ex ueris oportet eſſe, igitur manifeſta eſt
contradi&tio,res linquitur igitur,quód diameter, nullo modo eſſet coſta
commenſurabilis, eft igiturfalfum, igitur nonſcitur, quia uera effe
oportet,quæfcim us TEXTV EODEM VEL TEX. V. OSITIONIS autem, quæ quidemeſt utram
libet partium enunciationisaccipiens,ut dico aliquid effe,aut no elſe,
fuppoſitio eft, quæ ue ro ſine hoc,deffinitio elt; deffinitio enim pofi tio
eft.Ponit enim Arithmeticus unitatem in diuifibilem effe fecundum quantitatem,
lup pofitio enim non eft. Quid enim eſt unitas, & eſſe unitaté, non idein
eſt. Deffinitio inquit Ariſtot. non ponitur, altero membro contradicéte
reiecto,utfit in fuppoſitione accipienda,fed deffinitionis na tura talis eft,
ut ad hocquod ipfa intelligatur aget docente, eſt tamen & ipfa
deffinitio,poft quam intellecta ſit,etiam poſitio,cõmuni uoce diéta,et legatur
textus fic paulatim,ponitenim Arithmeticus unitatem, utſiArithmeticum quis
interroget, an unitas fit, uel non fit? annuat quòd ipſaunitas fit,indiuiſibilem
autem fecundum quantitatem ſuppoſia tio noneſt,ſed definitio, os exponitur
àdocente, quia numerus quilibet diuidi poteſt, cumautem ad unitatem, ex qua
numerus cöponitur deuen tum ſit, impartibilis omnifariam reperitur, ut poſito
quocunquenumes ro, ut ternario, ocirca ſe, ex utraque parteſuper ſe
numeri,esſuper illos, alij circumponantur, id toties fieripoterit,quousq; ad
unitate dem POSTERIORVM'ARIST. 37 SH it 13 uentum fuerit,at ubi ad ill.im
deuentum erit,non fit ultraproceffus,ut cir ca tres,quatuor,& duo,etfuper
hos,quinq; c unum,medium horū aggre gatorī erit ternaris, hoc exemplari 1 2 345
signum eftigitur unitate eſſe principium impartibile omnium numerorīt, ut
Boetius in Arithmetica, docet,modo, exſententia Ariſtotelis, non eſt idem,unitatem
fupponere, oipſam deffinire, quæ deffinitio eſt, unitas eft qua unumquodque
unum effe dicitur, uel eft principium numeri, uel eſt indiuiſibilis, ex quo
tamen indiuifibili, diuiſibilis numerus componitur, ad differētiam
indiuifibilium fecundum magnitudinem, quæ indiufibilianon componunt diuiſibile
ali quod. Age igitur,ut Ariſtoteli placet, quòd non eſt fatis ad demonſtratio
nem procedere ex fuppofitionibus, etiam immediatis, fed opus eſt etiam ex
immediatis dignitatibus, que etiam dignitates improprie poſitiones funt, ideo
in precedenti declaratione concludebatur,numerū imparé eſſe parë,quia ex
poſitione, quod diameter.eſſet commenfurabilis coſte, pros cedebatur, &non
ex dignitate &deffinitione intelle &ta,atque poſita. TEXT. DECIMUS
ALIAS QVINTVS, CH fi re Lisa co UE ofi 18 ар 3 VONIAM autem oportet credere
& ſcire ré, in huiuſinodihabendo fyllogifmum, quē 110 cainus
demonſtrationein. Eft autem fic, eò quod ea ſunt,ex quibus eft
fyllogiſmus,necef ſe eſt, non folumpræcognoſcere prima, aut omnia, aut quædain
ſed etiam magis. Quico gnoſcit quòd Triangulus habeat tres equales duobus
rečtis, prius nes ceſſe eft,ut cognofcat XIII. ey xxIx. primiElementorum actu,
non autem ufqueaddeffinitiones fit refolutio pro illa x xXJI cognos feenda,
omniaautem prima cognofceremus,ſiuſque ad deffinitiones ago Elementa, ad que
illius XIII. XXIX. primireſolutio fieret, que &fifitfactibilis, tedio
tamennosafficeret, fi femperfieret ufqueadele mentaiſta reſolutio,
fedfatis,quod hoc fieri poßit,ideo dicit Ariſtoteles neceffe eft præcognoſcere
prima,aut omnia,aut quçdam, Sed etiam magis aduertendum, ut declarabo fuſius
Tex. 108. huius primi,quòdquanto notitia eft deſimpliciori, illa, certior eft,
quam que compoſitioriseft.Cum autem principium fit minus compoſităipfa
concluſione, neceffe eft, ut &fua notitia ſit magiscerta, quam conclue
fionis notitia,ideo XIII, XXIX. per quas probatur fecunda pars IN PRIM VM LIB.
trigeſimeſecunde primi Elementorum, ſunt magis nota, oſcite,quàng illa fecunda
pars trigeſimæfecundæ primi. TEXTVS XI. ALIAS V. MA 1 AGIs enim neceſſe eſt
credere principiis, aut oinnibus,aut quibuſdam quam cons cluſioni. Aduertendum
quòd magis credere,fine pluri, nempe faciliorem effe credentiam aliud eft, à
credere per demonſtrationem, & propter quid, fe ptima, atque octaua
propoſitiones quinti Elementos rum, primo intuitu quando inſpiciuntur, facilius
eis adheremus oafa ſentimur, quàm aſſentiamur deffinitioni fextæ,atque o
&taua eiufdé quins ti. Ecce quod non magis illis principijs credimus
primointuitu, quins conclufionibus per ea principia demonſtựatis, ideo
Ariſtoteles ait, aut: quibuſdam, non ſemper omnibus primo intuitu. Debentem
autem habere ſcientiam per deinonſtrationé, non ſolum oportet principia magis
cognoſcere, &, magis ipfis credere, quàm ei quod deinonſtratur. Sed &
cete. Ada uertas quod & finotitia principiorü uideatur diſtantior
intellectui quàm notitia concluſionis, tamen non poteſt uniri intellectui
concluſionis notis tia,niſi per notitiam principiorum,quæ uidebatur ab intelle
&u remotior, ut in illis concluſionibus, &principijs que precedenti
comento citaui. TEXT. XVIII. AVT VIII. I ſiin omnilinea punctum finiliter eſt.
Proprie hoc in propoſito de linea recta intelligas, que atu punéta habet
terminantia, ficut homoactu eſt animal, o fi etiam de circulari intelligi poßit
quæ in puncto à linea recta tangitur, fedde circulas ri expoſitio
uideturfuperftitiofa, aliena à nas tura exempli, quia exempla per
magisfaciliadantur, ita quòd, dequoa cunque uerum eſt dicere, quod fit linea
recta, de co uerum eft dicere, quod in co eſt punctus. POSTERIORVM ARIS T.
TEXT. XIX. VEL IX. 5, Elle P feo to oft 45 oné, 2015 Ado quan ER ſe autem funt,
quæcunqueſunt in co, quod quid cft, utTriangulo ineſt linea, &: punctum
lineę, ſubſtantia enim ipforum ex his eft, & quæcunqueinſunt in ratione di
cente quid eſt. “ Philoponus & parum dicit ſuper hoc textu, uel étiam id
quod dicit non facit ad propo ſitum Ariſtot. declarandum, uidetur enim quod
tex. his contradicat que: determinat Ariſtoteles contra Platonem, uidelicet
quodlinea non compo natur ex punctis, præcipue ſexto phiſicorum, primo de
generatione, tertiometaphiſice,ubiex fententia concludit lineam non poſſe ex
punétis componi, quid autem ſuper hoc textu, qui uidetur oppofitus locis ſupras
dictis dici poßit notaui in prædicamétis, capite de quantitate, uerba aus tem
illa, quia ſubſtantia corum ex ipfis eft, intellige terminatiue, ut linea
terminat ſuperficiem triangularem ', pun &tum lineam termis nat, o nullo
modo intelligendñ eſt compoſitiue, ſic ut puncta lineam com ponant, nec etiam
linea triangulum, tametfi aliter ab indoctis intelligas tur, quiafi aliter
textus hic concipiatur, ftatim fequitur, utſi linea ex punctis componeretur,
quod diameter o coſta eiuſdem quadrati eſſent comenſurabiles, quod textu nono,
eſſe falſum « impoßibile oſtējumeſt, quia utrumque per comunem menfuram
dimetiretur, nempe per pū &tum, quod eft contra Ariftot. sententiam, &
contra Euclidis ſcitum. Preterea tot puncta eſſent in coſta,quot in diametro,
&ſic pars effet æqualis toti, ut coſta ipſi diametro, pro cuius indu
&tione, ſit quadratum a b cd, cuius diameter a d, Cofta uero a c, in qua
fuſcipiantur duo puncta e, f, immediata ſi poßibile ſit, ut aduerfarius
ueritatis diceret, cum com ponatur ex punétis,à quibus, e, of, pun &tis duæ
lineæ rectæ aufpicens tur innitia tranfeuntes per diametrū uſque ad aliă coſtum
e regione pri me coſte collocatam,certü eft, quòd hæ duæ lineæſecabunt ipſam
diame trum in duobus pun &tis, quæ etiam puneta in diametro immediata
erunt, propter hoc quia lineæ protracte ex hypotheſiſunt immediate, igitur ſi
recte lineæ tot protendantur à coſta in coſtam oppoſitam,quot pū &ta fue
rint in ipſa coſta, per tot etiam punéta in diametro poſita tranſibūt eedë
linee, nec erit in diametro punétum aliud per quod non tranſiuerit lined aliqua
fic protracta ab immediatis pun&tis ipſius coſte, in puncta imme motia
tunin eſt. Uligas, o achi poßit rcula à ma eguna dicera IN PRIM VM LIB. diata
alterius coſte, ut patet in hac a. figura ficut f, immediatum eft ipfi e, fic
etiam &, ipſih, ſi l, fit immedias tum ipſi m, patet propoſitum,fi au tem
interl,om, intercipiatur pū Aumfitque illud K; ab illo per xxxi. f primi elemétorum
excitetur paralles lus K, o, ipſif, 8, uel ipſie, he tunc ipſa cadet inter gb,
ut in pun Eto, o, igitur g h, non erant imme diata,quod eſt contraaſſumptum,uel
extra utrumqueg,oh, uerſus b, ueld, & tunc k o, neutri linearū f8, web,
erit parallelus,quod eſt contra conſtructionem, patet igitur quòd tot eſſent in
diametro quot in coſta pun&ta. De circulari autem linea, quod non
componatur ex pun ftis, fic demonſtratur per tertium petitum primi elementorum,
fuper centrum a, deſcribatur circulus d minor, ocirculus bc, maior,ficira
cunferentia maioris componatur ex punétis,duo immediata puneta fi gnentur b @c,
&per primum petitum eiufdem primi ducatur recta alla a ad b, &ab aad c,
hæduæ lineæ tranſibunt per circunferentiam mino ris circuli, ſecabunt igitur
circunferentiam in uno,uel in duobus pūétis, ſi in duobus, tot punčta erunt in
minori circulo, ficut in maiori, fed ima poßibile eft, duo inequalidcomponi ex
partibus æqualibus numero, ou magnitudine,punctusenim unus non excedit alium
punctum in magnitudi ne,en tot funt in minori peripheria puncta quot ſunt in
maiori, igitur pe ripheria minor eft æqualis maiori peripheric,igitur pars
æqualis eft toa ti,quod pro impoßibile relinquitur, b ſi autem due recte linee
a, b, 4, C, ſecent minorem circunferens tiam in eodem puncto, fit ille d, ſu =
per illam a c, erigatur linea recta perpendicularis per xi.primi Elea mentorum
ſecansſilicet eam in pun. &to d, quæ fit d e, que erit contina gens minorem
circulum ex corrolda rio x vtertij elementorum, iftad, c.cum linea 4 b, ex
xIII. primi Elemens POSTERIOR V MARIST. 2 d IN Elementorum conftituit duos
angulos rectos, aut æquales duobus rectis, @ed cum linea a c facit duos angulos
rectos ex conftru &tione, duo igitur anguli a de, obde, funt æquales duobus
angulis a de, cde per tertiam petitionem prini Elementorum Euclidis, dempto
igis tur communiangulo a d'e, reſidua eruntæqualia, igitur angulus b.de erit
æqualis angulo c d é, &pars toti, quod eftimpoßibile. Adiſtud diceret
aduerfarius, quod db, odc, non includunt ali = b. quem angulum; quia poſſet
tunc illi angulo bafis ſubtendià puncto bad punétum c, quod est oppoſitum po
ſiti, quia b c, poſita ſunt ima mediata, quando igitur diceretur, quod angulus
c de, estmaior an gulo b.de negaretur ab aduerſa rio, quia per angulum b d c,
nihil additur in angulo c d e, quia inter bec nihil mediat, e in concurſu bdoc
din d, non est angulus. ifta reſponſio oſi ex ſe ipſa uideatur ua na,
negandoangulum, ubi duæ rectæ line: bd, cd, concurrunt quæ expanduntur in eadem
ſuperficie, oapplicantur non directe, o fit contra deffinitionem anguli,
deffinitione ſexta primi Elementorum, negando etiam à b inc poffe duci lineam,
neget primum petitum primi Elementorum, tamen quia aduerſarius non putaret iſta
inconuenientia, quia ſequuntur ad id, quod ipſe dicit, ideo contra reſponſionem
aliter ar. guo, angulus c d e includit totüm angulum b de, oaddit ſaltem pun
Aum ſuper b de, o ſiproteruias quòd non addat angulum, & puns Etus per te,
eſt pars, igitur c d e addit ſuper 6 d e partem aliquam, igitur c d e eſt totum
adb d e. Aſſumptum patet, uidelicet quòd c de addat ſuper bd e, quia ſi angulus
dicatur fpatium interceptum inter lineas non includendo lineas,ut Ariſtoteles
concipit in queſtionibus meca nicis, queſtione octaua, tunc pun &tus primus
lineæ b d extra circunfes rentiam minorem nihil erit anguli bde, o eſt aliquid
anguli c de, igitur c d e maior est b de, a probatum fuit, quòd æqualis, igi
tur aperta contradi&tio, fi autem angulus ultra ſpatiuin inter duaslie
neas,includat lineam includentem,fpatium tunc primus punctus lineæ cd extra
circunferentiam minorem nihil erit anguli b de, e est aliquid ans F ino tis 0
th I N PRIMVM LIB. guli c d e, addit, igitur utroque modo angulus c d e punctum
fuper angulum b de, patet igitur ex principali demonſtratione & folutionis
bus ad inſtantias, quod linea non componatur ex punétis, neque recta; neque
circulari, ſubſtantia igitur lineæ ex punétis est terminatiue, o non
compoſitiue, ut in principio expoſui vel dicas quòd Ariſtoteles famoſe,
oexemplo loquitur de cauſa quæ dat eſe, vel etiam dicas, quod punétus,in
deffinitione Geometrica ponitur, onon Methaphyfice conſiderata. TEX. X X. ALIAS
I X. T rectum ineſt lincæ & rotundum. Verbum il lud rotundum legit Aueroes
circulare, o melius, ut ali bi Ariſtoteles rectum ineft linee o circulare, ſic
ut pro uerbo rotundum,legatur circulare,ratio quia circula re lineæ est
proprium,quod uult Ariſtoteles in princis pijs mechanicarum queſtionum inquiens:In
primis enim lineæ illi, que circuli orbem amplectitur,nullamhabenti latitudinem
contraris quodam modo ineſſe apparent, concauum ſilicet,&conuexum. Rotondum
uero proprie corpori conuenit, non lineæ, ut etiam placet Ariſtoteli libro
fecundo Cali capite primo, quæ lectio non uidetur difplicere etiam Ioan ni
Grammatico, &quodſit iſta mens Ariſtotelis, utfic legatur manife ftum eſt,
per ea, quæ textu decimo ait, non enim, contingunt non ineſſc aut fimpliciter,
aut oppofita,ut lineæ rectum aut obliquum,capiens ob liquum pro circulare. TEXT
VSvs X. T par & iinpar numero. Par quidem ille eft, qui ab impari unitate
differt cremento uel diminue tione, ut quinque à quattuor, uel à fex unitate,
Vel par eſt, qui biffariam ſecatur, impar uero, qui ne in duo æqualia
diuidatur, impedimento eft unia tatis interuentus. POSTERIOR VM AREST. Τ Ε Χ.
XXV. ALI AS XI. NIVERSALE autem dico, quòd cum fit de omni, & per ſe eſt,
& ſecundum quod ipfum eſt. Ioannes Grammaticus & fequaces determinant,
ut hæc tria inter ſeſint diſtincta, fic quod id, quodper ſe eſt inſit abſque eo,
quod fecundum, quod ipſum eſt, 1/oſceli quidem per ſe ineſt habere tres æquales
duobus reétis,non tamen ineſt ei (inquit Ioannes).ſecundum quod ipſum, quia
fecundum quod ipſum ineſt triangulo. Aduertendum quod famoſa doctrina (qua
etiam fæpe Ariſtoteles utitur ) perſe Iſoſceli inefthabere tres æquales duobus
reftis non tamen ſecundum quod ipſum. Alio autem modo per fe,id dicitur alicui
conuenire, quod etiam conuenit ſecundum quòd ipfum, ita quod, id quod non
conuenit ſecundum quod ipſum non etiam conueniat perſe, niſi quodam modo, fic
quod perſe non immedia = te, oſecundum quod ipſum, diſtinguntur tanquam magis
&minus uni uerfale per fe autem immediate, &ſecundum quod ipſum, hec
quidem non diſtinguntur,ita ut unumſine alio poßit ineſſe eidem, Peccauit
igitur Joannes ofequaces determinantes uniuerſaliter id, quod particulariter
uerum est, uniuerfaliter autem falfum, Triangulo igitur immediate, cu per ſe, o
ſecundum quod ipſum conuenit habere tresduobusre&tis æqua les, quodam autem
modo non per ſe ipſi iſoſceli conuenit habere tres duobus rečtis equalis. Vt
Ariſtoteles ſententia, hæc ſit, quòd per ſe immediate, ſecundum quod ipſum,
idem fint, neque ab inuicem in aliquo diſtinguuntur, per le autem non primum,
“ſecundum quod ip fum, hec duo uere diſtinguuntur, ut Ioannes ſuisexemplis,
immo Ari ſtoteles in Texu,exemplomanifeſtat. HET luben 10a TE X. X X VI. ALIAS
XI I. ## ling PORTET autem non latere, quoniam fæpe numero contingit errare,
& non eſſe quod demonſtratur primum uniuerſale, ſecundum quòd uidetur
uniuerſale demonſtrari primū, aberramus autem hac deceptione, cum aut ni hil
ſit accipere ſuperius,peti fingulare, aut Fij 44? IN PR ÍMVM LI B. ſingularia.
Aduertendum Ioannem Grammaticum & uniueros Ario ſtotelis interpretes, ſiue
Greci, Latini, uel Arabes fuerint perperam eſſe interpretatos hunc Ariſtotelis
Textum, &tres ſequentes textus @rita male fenferunt de Ariſtotele, quòd
litteram pariter & fenfum omnem peruertunt &corruinpunt. Circa
Ariſtotelis litteram, an tequim ad eius interpretationem acMilani, falſit as
loannis, oſequa tium est hoc loco non pretereunds. Primo circa hunc textum,
loans nes adfert exempla multa quorum neque unum tantum facit pro textus
declaratione, ait enim Ariſtoteles. Cum nihil fit accipere fupes rius. Nihil
fit, neque uox quidem, utputa nomen aliquod fictitium,& acceptum,cui tamen
in re nihil refpondeat ut eſt hoc nomen chimera, cui nomini nihil extra in re
conuenit,fic tandem, ut neque res ſi aliqua fie ue ens aliquod, ita ut nulla
ſit res, neque ſit nomen aliquod ſignifi cans illud non ens. ipſe autem loannes
explicat Ariſtot. litteram cirs ca illud, cui eſt accipere fuperius, &circa
illud, cui nomen impoſitum eſt,ut est, Terra,' Sol, øMundus, &triangulus,
horum omnium ex tant nomina, ut manifeftum eft; o ſingulum ſuperius est ad ſua
indiuis dua, nempe ad hancterram, ad hunc Solem, ad hunc mundum, ad -Scalenonen,
perperam igitur interpretatur loannes hunc textum cum ipfe adferat exemplum de
eo, cui ſit accipere fuperius, cui nomer impofitum eſt, Textus autem
Ariſtotelis dicat, cum non fit accipere fuperius. T E X. XXVII. i VT fi quid
eft, fed innominatum fit in difo ferentibus fpetie rebus. Ioannes Toto errat
Cees loo.fequentes ipfum, circa litteram e doctrinam Ari stetelis,textusfic
habet. Si quid eft,illud tamen innominatum fit in differentibus fpetie res bus.
Ioannes inquit, non exiſtente commune aliquo de quo non exiſtente, prebet exempla
deexiſtentibus, contra feipſum V etiam de nominatis in differentibus petie
rebus, contra Ariſtotelis textum, ait enim Ariſtoteles. Sed innominatum ſit in
differens tibus fpetie rebus, exempla adfert Ioannes de Triangulo, qui
nominatur, eft in pluribus fpetiebus differentibus, ut in Iſopleuro Iſoſcele,
Scaler.one, o fimiliter de quanto prebet cxemplum loane nes, quod nedum nomen
habet, fed in differentibus fpetie pluribus est POSTRIO RVM ARIST. par A @
etiam in pluribus generibusdifferentibus eft, neque mireris uelimſi Joannes
ocæteri expoſitores aliò pedem retullerint, cumfaltus aſperie tatem ſenſerint
&iuerit uſque Gorcie inficias, obfcurans Ariſtotelem Platonicis ſuadelis. Ut
contingat eſſe ficut in parte totum in quomonftratur his enim quę funt in te,
ineft quidem demonſtratio, & erit de omni, ſed tainen non huius erit primi
uni uerfalis demonftratio, dico autem huius primi, ſecundum quod huius
demonſtra tionem, cumfit primi unirerfalis. Bonus Ioannes ofequaces prefertim
Niphus fueſſanus medices Neapolitanus philotheus Augu ftinus philoſophus, og
fequaces multi fimiles ſine nomine, pleni nominis bus, quos in interglutiendam
uniuerſam Ariſtotelis philoſophiam, os ho rum textū ſuffocauit, cū ad exempla
deuenerint,quibus Ariſtoteles cla rum reddit id, quod in tribus modis errandi
circa univerſale dixit, loan nes (eg peius cæteri) circa finem comenti huius
textus fic ait,in reliquia trium modorum exempla per bec exponit, uerū non
utitur ordine exem plorum cum ordine modorum errandi, propofitum enim exemplum
ters tij eſt modi, Dico philofophum fummoartificio ordiri otexere modos errandi
cum exemplis, ſicut modo cuique errandi correſpondeat pros prium &peculiare
exemplum, ut quemadmodum tres numerauerit ers randi modos circa uniuerfale,
tria exempla, ipſis correſpondentia fubiecit, ſic ut primum exemplum primo
errandi modo, fecundum exem plum; ut in littera Ariſtotelis ponitur fecundo
modo errandi correſpon deat, otertium exemplum ipſi tertio modo errandi apte
conueniat, quo ordine confuſionem omni ex parte inter cxempla os modos errandi
fuæ giens, in primis ſuo artificio, modum errandi &exemplum fibi corre
fpondens notificauit circa id quod debet effe medium demonſtrationis, ſe cundus
errandi modus &exemplum fibi correſpondens, cõcernitfubies Sum
demonſtrationis, tertius modus errandi circa uniuerfale cum exem plo ſibi
coherente, concernit totam demonftrationem, feu arguendi mo dum qui dicitur permutata
proportio, errauit igitur Ioannes v omnes alij, qui aliter quam ut hucufque
dixi extorquent Ariſtotelis textum, non intelligentes. I N P R I M VM LIB. Pro
declaratione igitur uigeſimi fexti textus, fit hæc noftra prima ina ter
expoſitores dilucidatio uel ſi difpliceat, dicas eam eſſe ſecundam,uel etiam
millefimam. Primī modum errandiexpono ſic, ſcias quòd de duas bus lineis reétis,
tanquam de ſubiecto, concluditur hec paßio, nempe quod non intercidant;
uidelicet quòd parallelæ ſint ſeu equidiſt antes, per hoc, tanquam per medium,
quia linea recta ſuper duas line as rectas cadēs eſt poſita in omnibus quatuor
angulis rectis, ideo ille due recte parallelæſunt, oetiam per hoc me dium, quod
cum linea recta ſuper duas lineas rectas cadensfecerit an- A. 6 gulos
quomodolibet æquales, utputa alternos acutos ſibi inuicem æqua- c. d les, uel
alternos obtufos ſibi inuicem equales, illæ duæ lineæ funt æquidis ftantes,
iterum per hoc medium quãdo linea recta cadens fuper duas alias rectas lineas
fecerit exterio rem angulum æqualem interiori ex eadem parte, ille duæ lineæ
paraller le ſunt, &adhuc per iftud medium, ut fi linea recta cadens ſuper
duas rectas lineas, fecerit duos intrinſecos angulos æquales duobus reftis,ut
probant X X VII. XXVIII. primi elementorum quod adhuc illæ due recte linee
parallelæ ſunt. Modo ſi Geometra putaret demonſtras, tionem factam per ſingulum
mediorum di&torü,eſſe uniuerſalem,erraret primo errore circa uniuerfale,quia
nullibi medium eſt uniuerſale et unī; nulla enim natura, nec res aliqua eft
cómunisad omnes quatuor angulos rectos, ad binos acutos, binoſque obtuſos,ad
intrinſecum et extrinfecum ex eadë parteſumptos, et ad duos intrinſecos ex
eademparte acceptos, niſi quis uudeat dicere,quòd quædam cõmunis natura,eſt ad
omnes pres nominutos angulos, utputa æqualitas angulori, quæ quidem angulorum
equalitas,ratio eſſet, ut cõcludas lineas eſſeparallelas, iſtud ſomnium,ul tra
quodfit falfitate plenum, eft etiam nimis procul ab apparenti mena dacio, non
ne etiam in concurrentibus lineis repperitur æqualitas angu lorum? ut puta in
his angulis qui ſunt ad uerticem poſiti, cauſati à linea cadenteſuper duas
rectus lineas,illa enim cadens cum utralibet earumf1. per quas cadit, caufat
uerticales angulos æquales ut ſunt anguli a gd, @ b8f, uel anguli c fe, em gfb,
ſtatim hoc reiciet dicens,quod de al 1 POSTERIORVM ARI'S T. ternis angulis
intelligenda eſt illa equalitas, ut natura illa communis tantum ſit equalitas
coalternorum, hec reſponſio eft uana cũ illa equa a litas ſitequiuoca, uel
dicas analo gam, ad equalitatem retorum, acu torum, obtuforum angulorum, @etiam
dico, quod totã hoc,& qua litas angulorum,non eft und abſolu = ta
naturd,una abſoluta (utputa) eſt unus atq; alter angulorum, reliqua natura eſt
reſpectiua et ad aliquid, ut æqualitas inter utrumq;, ſi diceret quod accipitur
pro medio, tantuin equalitas in omnibus illis fine pluri,dico quòd per
æqualitatem non con cluditur, quod lineæ parallele ſint,niſi per æqualitatě
talium angulorī, Et dico etiam quòd non tantum per equalitatem coalternorīt,
ſed etiam per æqualitatë extrinſeciad intrinfecum, et per duos
intrinſecos,quorīt alter acutus reliquus obtufus,qui equalesfunt duobus re
& tis, quæ omnia non habent unum ſuperiusuniuocum, igitur non eft aliquid
accipere ſus perius ad hæc omnia, igitur petimus tunc ſingularia media in
propoſito concludendo, &ſicerramus, ſi nobis uideatur uniuerſale
demonſtrare primū. Error igitur iſte circa uniuerſale,eſt circa medium
demonſtratio nis quod quidem medium uniuerfale, cum non fit, fingularia media
peti mus, ſimile habes huic per XXVII (XXVIII primi Elementorū, Euclidis per
quas Ariſtoteles manifeſtat propoſitum. Itidem fimile per quintam, fextam, a
ſeptimum fextiElementorum,quibus probat Eucli des per diuerſa media ſingularia,
o non per unum uniuerſale medium, triangula eſſe equiangula. Aliud etiam in
Euclide habes xui primi Elementorum « in ſexto Elementorum propoſitione xxx,
quibus lo cis ſimile huic probat, quod duæ lineæ,in dire&tum
cõiun&tafunt et lines und, ohoc per ſingularia odiuerfa media, quibus non
eft aliquid unis accipere fuperius. Vigefimiſeptimitextusſit hec mea declaratio,
immo.eft ipſius Ariſto telis ad unguem, quam Ioannes grammaticus, neque nouus
aliquis, ſiue antiquus etiam interpres, non percepit, hoctextu affert
Ariſtoteles les cundum errandi modum, à primo modo errandi longe dißimilem,
atque diuerfum, in primo modo errandi nulla natura communis accipiebatur IN
PRIM VM LI B. 1 fuperior, neque nomen aliquod, ſeu quæpiam uox habebatur, in
hoc aue, tem ſecundoerrandi modo, natura ipſa communis eft, o inſuper nomen. ei
impoſitum eſt. Verum quia natura illa non habet ſub ſe plures fpe=; cies, ideo
illa, &fi fit, anominata ſit, in pluribus tamen differentibus fpecie rebus,
innominataeſt, ob defficientiam ipſarum ſpecierum, quiail Leſpecies non ſunt,
ut folis, terre, mundi natura, eſt innominatain plu ribus ſpeciebus terre, quia
plures ſpecies terre nonſunt, fi igitur quiſ piam demonſtrationemde cælo
tentaret, & quodfit dextrum in ipſo com cluderet, &putaret quod eſſet
ſuademonſtratio uniuerſalis, quia no eft aliud primum cælum,erraret quia non de
hoc cælo, primofitdemöſtra tio, fed de natura coeli, ut eft quid uniuerfalius
ad hoc primum cælum, ſeu de cælo, fine contratione ad hoc ſingulare cælum, quam
doctrinants Ariſtotelesſuis mathematicis exemplis, &quidem aptißimis, fole
cans didiorum reddit; inquit enim in exemplo fecundo, quod quidem fecundo
errandi modo correſpondet, oſi triangulus non effet aliud quàm 1f0a) ſceles,
ſecundum quod Iſoſceles eſt. Videretur utiqiie ineſſe primo,has bere tres
æquales duobus rectis, cum nullus effet alius triangulus,uel nul la alia eſſet
ſpecies trianguli quam fofceles, &tunc error ſecundo mos: do contingeret.
Explico Ariſtotelis ſententiam. In primis eft aduerten dum, quòd triangulus re
ipſa hubet ſub ſe tres ſpecies triangulorum, fo pleurum, iſoſcelem oScalenonen,
quod ſi tamen per imaginationem ponamns, quod non haberet ſub ſe ljopleurum,
neque Scalenonen, per ſecluſionem illarum duarum ſpecierum, tantum haberet
ſpeciem unā, ut iſoſcelem, eſſet tunctriangulu: innominatus in Scalenone atque
Iſos: pleuro, quia fi in illis ſpeciebus triangulus nominaretur, ut
fic,Scalenon eft triangulus, Iſopleurus eft triangulus, iam illæ ſpecies duæ
triangu. lorum effent, quas ſuppofuit Aristoteles, ut non eſſent,ut ſuum
oſtendat. propoſitum. His ſuppoſitis, ſiquis de foſcele concluderet; quòd tres
haberet æquales duobus reétis,o putaret quòd uniuerſalis effet bec des
monftratio, quia nullus eft alius triangulus, quam foſceles, crraretſes. cundo
errandi modo, quia Iſoſceles habet fuperius o uniuerſalius fe, nempe triangulum,
de quo primo concluditur talis affectio, & talis era, ror multa diuerſa à
prinoerrandi modo habet,quorum unum eft, ut pri mus modus errandi,ſit circa.medium,
& iſte ſecundus modus errandi fit. circaſubiectum demonſtrationis. Aliud,
ut in primo nonſitfuperius ali quid nec etiam nominatum, In hoc ſecundo eſte
ſuperius og nominas, tum, ut triangulus, Tertio illud innominatumſit in
pluribusmedijs, hoc. autein? POSTERIORVMARIST DS autemfecundo modo
innominatumfit in duabusfpeciebus tantum, uideli cet in Iſopleuro w Scalenone,
Ibi ut in omnibus fit innominatum, Hic aue tem nominatum ſit tantum in una
ſpecie, ut triangulus in 1fofcele. Advigeſimum octauum textum cã acceſſerit
philoponus ad orchos in greſſus, non potuit ex inextricabılı labirintho egredi,
ita ut ea, quæ pue rilia ſuntin interpretatione, perperam ej tortuoſe ſit
interpretatus,vt puta uerbum hoc, aliquando, non temporaliter,inquit,audiendü
eſt, ſed quaſi diminutius ut ait ipfe, non exacte fit audiendum, fimili modo
ergo ijtud uerbum, Nunc,haud,inquit,temporaliter audiendum eſt, quin po tius,
exacte, o ſecundum Methodum demonftratiuam, Pedagogorā mo dum inſequutus, qui
quattuorgrecis litteris intineti temerario aufu, ſi ne quacunquefcientia aut
liberaliarte ad explicandum Ariſtotelem uens toſi cum accefferint ipſi
implicati non ut loannes plicis binis uel ternis terminos exponit, ſed denis
centenis atq; millenis epiſtolis ſuos codiculos imptent promittunt etiam multis
nobilibus ſe expoſituros Ariſt.uocantų; fepe illos nobiles nominatim ut teftes
tādem ſint ſue infanie, et ut uidean tur etiam ipſi aliquid in Ariſtotele ſuo
chere illuſtraſſe, cum nondum pri ma philoſophie elementa fufceperint, Pereant
ipſi cum ſua ignorantia, uelfuis fericis ueftibus addifcere poft multa těpora
incipiant,oſiferico indueti,atque equoinfedentes, o rabini facti addiſcere
uerecundantur. fufcipiant eam quam decet philofophum, ueftem, o Euclidis
honeſtate accedant ad Socratem; ne fintpoſt hac, fomenta praua difpofitionis
preſtantißimæ iuuentuti in celebratißimis terrarum gymnaſijs. Qui dam alij
interpretes quorum eſſe nefcio, quia ſuum eſſe nihil eft, neq; fuit unquam
abradunt ly nunc, & locofuo,legunt, non, &ly aliquando,fo litarie fine
fenfu relinquunt, quibus expofitionibus uel potius torturis iam iam incipiat
Ariſtotelis lamétatio, Abigatur igitur cum mufcis afta bulòunaatque alteru
interpretatio, feu magis Ariftotelis deprauatio, et legatur textus ut lacet in
greco, quitextus græcus habet has particulas, aliquando, et nunc, que uerba
temporaliter onullo alio modo intelligan tur, neque intelligi aliter poſſunt,
onon legatur, loco de ly nunc, non, ut quidam facit hoc tempore, quenſcies, ſi
tua ſcripta ab ipſo accepta le geris, Pro declaratione igitur uera, queunaſola
eft, quă inferius fübi ciam, et nulla alia ab ifta uers effe poteft, ad
Arijtotelem redeundo, textum expono. Proportionale, quod commutabiliter eſt.
Aduertendū quod iftud de proportionale, exemplum, eft tertij modi, pro cutus
declaratio 03 of 21 that * MA es G so IN PRIMVM LIB, ne dico Ariſtotelem
proprium quantitatis determinaffe in fine predicar menti quantitatis dicentem;
Proprium autě quantitati cft maxi. me çqualitas & inequalitas,reliqua uero
queno ſunt quan ta no proprie æqualia ac inęqualia eſſe dicuntur, Velutidiſpo
ſitio,uel etiam habitus æqualis, inequalisue non omnino propriedicitur, fed
familispotius,atá; dißimilis, & album itidem æqualeinæqualeue non onnino
dicitur, fed fimile dici atque dißimile dicifolet, Proportio ſeu ratio, ut ab
Euclide deffinitur in quintoElemětorum eft duarum quantæcunquefint eiufdem
generis quantitatum alterius ad alte ram habitudo quædam, ex Ariſtotele igitur
habetur, quod proprium eft ipſi quantitati, esſe quale aut inequale. Ex Euclide
uero quòd propora tio eſt quantitatumfolummodo, ex utroqueuero, quod tantum in
quana titate proprie reperitur proportio, quæ quidem eſtæqualitatis, in
equalitatis; inequalitatis uero proportio biffariamſecatur fecundum Boetium in
primo Arithmeticæ in inequalitatem maiorematque minoa, rem,equalitatis
proportio eſt quandofundamentā et terminusfunt æqua lia, ut duo ad duo,
inequalitatis uero proportio eft quando fundamenti eſt maius, terminus autē
minor, et hæceft maior inequalitas.uerominor eft,quando fundamentum eftminus
terminus uero maior,ut sunr ad 21, maior,et 11 ad 1 1 1 1 minor, Præter hæc
ſcito, quidam modiarguenda quibusmathematici utuntur(de quibusEuclides in
quinto) indifferenter applicatur quantitatibus eiufdem, fiue etiam alterius
generis, dummos do bina ſintuniusgeneris et bine alterius, ut in
equaproportionalitate patet, hic autem modus-arguendi qui dicitur commutata
proportio non niſi quantitatibus, quæ eiufdem generisſunt attribuitur. Quibus
pras intelectis o declaratis, uides Platonem improprie applicuiffe uirtutia bus
in Gorgia cõmutată proportionalitaté, quibus etiã qualitatibus,pro portio
nonconuenit, ex deffinitione proportionis fuperius data,quapro, pter non eſt
propria rerum natura, neque uera e propria Ariſtotelis ſententia,aliena
docirina perturbanda. Vbienim ait Ariſtotelesloquens de tertio errandimodo,aut
cótingit efle, ficut in parte totūztoti hoc loco,uniuerſale intelligendum eft,partem
uero inferius ad ipfum uni uerfale, Mododico,quòd antiqui philofophi qui
precefferütEuclidem Ariſtotelem ſæpißime errauerunt hoc tertio errandi modo,
putantes de toto, feu uniuerfalemfacere demonftrationem, que tamen erat in par
te demonstratio,hoc eſt particularis &non univerſalis, ideoait philoſos
plus quemadmodum demonftratum, eft aliquando, uidelicetabantiquis POSTERIORVM
ARIST. philoſophis, qui tempore Ariſtotelem,atque Euclidem preceſſerūt,quia
ipfi non aduerterunt quod quantum, eſt id (id eſt natura aliqua) quod fum
perius accipitur, nominatum eft in pluribus differentibus fpecie res büs,
differt igitur iſte modus à primo, quia ibi non erat accipere aliquid ſuperius,
o etiam differt àſecundo, quia in fecundo illud fuperiusnon erat nominatuin in
pluribus differentibus ſpecie rebus, hoc autem, quod hic conſideratur, eft in
pluribusſpeciebusnominatum, & comune,atque uniuerſale onnibus quantis, fiue
illa diſcreta, ſeu cötinua ſint, quorun effe fucceßiuuki, feuetiam permanensſit,
ut numeri ſunt,lines, folida, tempora, &alia huiufmodiſpecie differentia,
feorfum ab inuicem ali quando acceperunt antiqui deſingulis
demonſtrationemfacientes. Nunc uero, inquit,philofophus uniuerfale
demonftratur, fenſus, uniuerſali ad hæc omnia,modusiſte arguëdi imediate et
perſe attribuitur, ut ipſi quan titati, quatenus tale. Nunc dico, nedum in eo
Ariſtoteleo quidem tempo të, & à philofophis reéte fapientibus, ſed etiam
oprimo abEuclide; cuius clarißimi philofophi beneficio habetur demonſtratio
uniuerſalis omnibus quantis, ut fuo quinto libro Elementorum docet,
propoſitione fextadecima, Errabant igitur antiqui aliquando, arguendo
permutatim in numeris ſeorſun, in lineis feorfum, cæteris feorfum, nunc au =
tem non contingit iſte error his, qui ſequuntur Euclidis ſcitum, quia nunc,
ideſt poſt Euclidis fcripta uniuerſaliter demonſtratur, hoc eſtmo:.
dusiftearguendi primo per fequantitati conuenit, quægenuseft ergo üniverſale
adomnia quanta, hæc autem eſt mea interpretatio, uera og germanaipſi
Ariſtoteli, ut etiam ipſe ſuis uerbis manifeftat Text. 93. ubi apertißime
declarat propoſitum. Propter hoc nec fi aliquis monſtret, unumquēque trian
ĝulum demonſtrationeaut una, aut altera quod duos re čtos habet unuſquiſque
Iſopleurus feorfum & Scalenon,& Iſoſceles, nondum cognouit triangulum,
quòd duos rectos habet, niſi ſophiſtico inodo,rieque uniuerfaliter triangu huum,ne
quidem fi nullus eſt, pręterhæc triangulus alter,no enim fecüdum quod
trianguluseft cognouit,neque fi om= nem triangulum,ſed quatenus ſecundum
numerum, ſecun dum autem fpeciem no omnem, & fi nullus eſt, quem non nouit.
Non eſt ſurdaaure pretereundum artificium fummum, quod in hoc exemplo
Ariſtoteles docet, fcias hoc exemplo de triangulo, comple &ti duos errandi
modos, vel facerepro duobus modis, errandi, ſecun Gij sa IN PRIMVM: LIB. do,
atque tertio, cum primum defingulo modo, fecundo &tertio, fe. paratim
exempla aptißima e peculiaria pofuit, ftatim attulit aliud exemplum utrique,
ſecundo uidelicet,atque tertio modo feruiens, Com. poſitiuam methoduin etiam in
exemplis feruauit. Littera autem per particulas, ſic declaratur; inquit enim,
demonſtratione aut una aut al tera; una enim demonſtratione numero fieri-non
poteft, ut deIſopleuro folcele, C Scalenone, concludatur quod tres equales
duobus reftis habeat, uia igitur fpecie demonſtratio erit, qua de his tribus
triangu lorum fpeciebus demonſtrabitur, quod tres habeat æquales duobusree Atis,
ideo dixit Ariſtoteles demonſtratione aut una aut altera; ac fi dices ret
pluribus numero demonſtrationibus, de tribus ſpeciebus illis cons cludi, quod
tres duobus rectis pares habeat hæc autem demonftratio, nullo modo intelligi
potest, quòd fyllogiſtica ſit, quia tuncmaior pre. miſſa acciperet de
uniuerfalitriangulo, quod haberettres equales duo bus reftis,ſic fyllogizando,
omnis triangulus habet tres angulos æquam les duobus rectis, ſed Iſoſceles, uel
Iſopleurus, uel Scalenon, eſt triangulus, igitur foſceles, uel Iſopleurus,uel
Scalenon habet tres, æquales duobus rectis, Sic igitur fyllogizando uel
particulatim abſque illo diſiunto, fed uno tantum affumpto triangulo, non ne,
ſcio de triangulo uniuerſaliter, in maiori aſſumpta quòd triangulus habet tres
æquales duobus reftis? quod e diametro opponitur ei quod Arift. ait,ut et fi de
Iſopleuro, et cæteris fciuero,quòd habeat tres æquales duo bus,nondūſcio de triangulo,niſiper
accidens,per accidés dico quatenus in ferius omne, ſuperiori accidit,modus
igiturilledicendi, quein uidentur omnes latini atque greciſequi, non
poteſtſtarecum Ariſtotelis ſentena tia, quia iam priusſciretuniuerſale in
maiore fumpta et per uniuerſale in cognitionem particulariñ deueniretur,qui
error non eſt, ſiquis autem di ceret, ut fic intelligi debeat
demonſtratione,aut una fyllogiſtica, aut alte ra Geometrica, dico quod nullo
modode ſyllogiſtica poteft intelligi, quia ſequeretur idein incommodum eo modo
arguendiſyllogistice,contra dos Arinam ex litteram Aristotelis, ut fupra dixi,
quia tunc per cognitio nem uniuerſalis deueniremus in cognitionem particularium
quod ex ſi id uerum ſit, modusquo ipſe textu Il docet, quo modo de nouoſci
mus,non hoctamen in hoc textu pertractat, ſed agit,hoc textu,& in hoc,
exemplo, de errore, qui opponitur uero modo ſciendi,onon de mo: do, quo de
nouofcimus quippiam. Niſi quis de ſyllogiſtica demonſtratio
neintelligensafingularibus ad uniuerſale progredereturfic, omnis 1 / 0 POSTERIO
RVM 'ARIS T. ſceles habet tres equales duobus rectis,fed triangulus iſoſceles
est, igis tur triangulus habet tres duobus rectis pares, &de alijs
fpeciebus limie liter, & tunc fciret iste ſecundum numerum i
particulariſubiecto I fofce le ad uniuerfalem triangulum progrediendo,quod no
diſplicet, et ſic una fpecieſyllogiſtica concluderetur de uniuerſali per
particularia, uel etiã altera,nempe Geoinetrica. Pro cuius ellucidatione, eft
fciendun; ultra ea, quæ de Geometrica demonſtratione dictum eſt in textu tertio,
quod Euclides ſecunda parte trigeſimeſecunde primi Elementorun demonſtrat quod
triangulus qua. tenus triangulus est, habet tres angulos æquales duobus-rectis,
fi quis modo, utcunque intructus bonis litteris (non dico Ariftelis deuoratos,
res uel potius carnium «acephalorum ſeptem, unis bycis uoraces, quiafi
uerbauinitateplena habeant non tainen Aristotelis do& rinam tenent,quam
falſo profitentur)iſus fuerit illa. demonftratione oſtendens de 1fofcele, quòd
habeat tres e qualesduobus reftis per decimamtertiam O vigeſimumnonam primi
Elementorum, aut altera numero, eadem ta menſpetie de Iſopleuro &
Scaleno.ne idein oftendat, ita quòd de ſingus lis trianguloruin þetiebus
inducat, quod habeat unaqueque ſpecies triangulorum tres equales duobus,
nonduin cognouit inquit, triangus lum quòd duobus reftis æquales habet, niſi
ſophiſtico modo, neque uni uerſaliter trianguluna effe huiufmodi, ne quidein fi
nullus eft, preter, hec, triangulusalius, non enim quod triangulus eft
huiufmodi cogno uit, nequeſi omnem triangulum, hoc habere contingut, utputs
duobus reftis æquales,ſed quatenusfecundum numerum, ideft fecundum nume
rumfpetierum triangulorum, ſecunduin autein fpetien, in uno uidelicet
uniuerfali, non omnein ca ſi nullus eft fecundum ſpetiem, id eſt ſe
cundumnumerum trium triangulorum petieruin, ſeparatim,quem non nouit. Erraret
igitur duplici errore ille, qui putaret eße unia uerſale fubie&tum, &
totum, id quod effet particulare fubieétum, parsfubieétiut, quia tunc acciperet
in parte totum, id eft partem, to tum effe exiftimaret. Si autem triangulus
immaginetur faluari in unica tantum fpetie, ut in iſoſcele, tunc exemplum
intelligatur, aptari feo cundo modo errandi tantum, non etiam tertio. Vides
igitur amice, quod Ariſtoteles modos tres attulit errandi circa
uniuerfale,quorum cuique proprium, &peculiare exemplum aptauit. Neque legas
poſt hac lyaliquando, prominus exacte, nequely nunc,pro exacte ita,ut neutrum,tempusſignificet,
fed utrunque temporaliterlegatur, neque 1 i IN P R I M V M L I B. legendum eſt
ly nunc pronon, ut quidam, qui nullus homo est facit. Ad id autem quod Ioannes
de Gorgia tetigit, aie quod quantitas, natura ipſa, qualitatem precedit, fic ut
quantitas, fit prior ipſa qualitate non dico tempore necetiam natura ſed ordine,
oid quod propriumquan titati eſt prius est proprio qualitatis, fimiliter et
modi,quiſunt ipſiquãti tati proprij, ut eſt proportio, & modus arguendi,
qui dicitur permu. tata proportio, funt hæc quantitati propria oſibi primo
conueniunt, deinde etiam qualitatibus ſecundario « improprie attribuuntur. Quem
admodum etiamSyllogiſmus, qui omnibus philoſophiæ partibus eft com munis per
attributionem, de eo tamen primo oproprijsſime Logicafa cultas agit, quòd ſi
ſubſtantijs quantitate prioribus, quis tribuat come mutabiliter proportionari,
tunc uniuerfaliter reſponde, quod omnibus entibus poteft attribui
commutabiliter proportionari improprie tamen, oper quandam attributionem
fecrındariam, quatenus omnia entia,has bent quantitatem molis, aut uirtutis in
ſe,o ſic Plato attribuit in Gori gia commutabiliter proportionari illis
qualitatibus improprie, opro ut ille qualitates includunt quantitatem uirtutis,
quæ funtgradus pera feftionis. TE X. XXIX. ALIAS XIIII. VANDO igitur non nouit
uniuerſaliter, & quando nouit fimpliciter, manifeftum eft utique. Quoniain,
li idem erit triangulo eſſe & Iſopleuro, aut unicuique,aut omnibus fi uero
non idem fed alteruin & cætera. Littera ſic exponatur, fi eadem deffinitio
quæ trianguli est, cſJet ipſius etiam Iſopleuri propria o peculiaris, aut
unicuique 1fos pleuro iſoſceli o Scalenoniſeparatim, aut etiam omnibus fimul in
com muni à quanon ſit alia deffinitio ipſis conueniens, ſi uero non idem, id
est finon est eadem unica deffinitio, quæ bis omnibus æque primo conue ! niat,
fed alterum, id eſt diuerfum nempe deffinitio trianguli est figura tribus
lineis rectis claufa, fed iſopleurus est figura tribus lineis rectis æqualibus
claufa, iſoſceles est figura tribus lineis duabus nanque æquae libus, una
inequali claufa, gradatus eſt figura tribus lineis inæquae libusclaufa, ecce
modo, quàm diuerſa ſint deffinitiones, fi ineſt igitur tres habere his omnibus,
hoc quidem eft unicuique, fecundum quod eſt triangulus, uelfecundum quod eft
figura tribus rectis claufa, o non POSTERIORVM ARIST. has pro eta quia illis
lireis equalibus, uel inequalibus claudatur. Vtrum autem fecundum quod eft
triangulus, aut fecundum quod Iſoſce les infit, & quãdo ſecundum hoc, eſt
primun, &uniuerfale, cuius eſt demonſtratio, manifeſtūeſt, quando remotis
infit primo,ut Iſoſceli, æneo remoto,triangulo infunt duobus rectis pares, fed
æncun eſle remoto, &Ifoſceli etiam remo to infunt tres duobus rectis pares,
fed non inſunt tres duo bus rectis pares figura & termino remotis, quia
etiam ipfis inſunt duobus rectis tres æquales, fed eis non primo, ut fi gura
que clauditur termnino uel terminis, quo igiturprimo reinoto, cui priino
conuenit; remouetur, & habere tres, fi itaque triangulus remoueatur,
remouebitur & habere tres duobus rectis pares, & ſecundum hoc igitur,
id eft few cundum triangulum ineſt, & aliis per ipſum & huiuſmodi
trianguli uniuerſaliter eſt demonſtratio. Littera fic ordináta, artificiun
Ariſtotelis est conſiderandum, in hac regula, quam prebet ad cognofcendum,
quando erit uniuerfaliter demonſtratio, ego exem plum eft contraſecundum modum
errandicirca uniuerſale,ſic,utſeruans hanc regulam,non errabitſecundo modo
errandi circauniuerfale,& pri mo,remotis accidentibus indiuiduorī,utremoto
ere,non remoueturaf feétio uniuerfalis ut habere tres duobus reétis pares, as
enimfeu aneum effe,non conuenit fpeciebus triangulorum, niſi quia indiuiduis
triangulis conuenit remota,fubinde fpecie trianguli, ut Ifofcele remoto, non
pro pterea remouetur affectio uniuerſalis, quæ eft habere tres duobus reétis
pares, quia in alijs fpetiebusſaluatur natura,cui primo conuenit habere tres,ut
in ſopleuro,e Scalenone ſaluatur naturatrianguli,cui prinoco uenit habere
tres,tertio remouet genus ad cuiusremotionem remouetur villa affeétio,ut
remotafigura, &tres habere duobus re &tis pares remo uetur, Quarto
cultimo remota deffinitione generis, ut remoto termino figura enim eſt, que
termino uel terminis clauditur, remouetur og illa affectio ſed non primo, primo
enim conuenit ipſi triangulo, triangulo igitur remoto, statim remouetur & illa
affectio, habere tres duobusre Atis pares, demonftratio igitur qua concluditur
quòd triangulus habet tres angulos equalesduobus reātis, eft uniuerſaliter.
& eft Te i IN PRIMVM LIB. TEX. XXXVII. ALIAS XX. Pro quo VORVM autein genus
alterum eft, ficut Arithmeticæ, & Geometriæ,non eft enim Arithmeticam
demonftrationem accom modare ad inagnitudinum accidentia niſi magnitudines
numeri fint. Gnarus Ari ſtoteles Geometrie & Arithmetica non dubitanz do
loquutuseft inquiens,niſi magnitudines numeri fint, fed fuæ regulæ uniuerfalis
exceptionem faciens, niſi inquit magnitudines numeri ſint. aduertas
magnitudines nunquam fieri numeri nifi numeri nuo merati, o adhuc numeri illi
numerati non fit diſcreta quantitas, ſic ut illinumerati numeri, non copulentur
ad aliquem communem terminum, ſicut numeri, ofillabe, no:1 ad terminum
copulantur communem,fed ad comunem terminum copulantar ille magnitudines que
numeri funt per folum tamen intellectum à fe inuicem feparatæ intelliguntur
ille quidem magnitudines quæ numerati numeri,Sunt non quod intellectus aliter
quã ſint, eas percipiat oppoſito modo, fed eas tantum conhder atparticunt Latim,
no intelligendo eas niſi priuatiuenon effe coniunctas,non tamen in telligendo
eas negatiue, non effe coniunétas, ut pro exemplofufcipiatur id,quod Euclides
proponit propoſitione quinta deci f mi Elementorum commens ar d ſurabiles
magnitudines,ad inuicem rationem habent quam numerusad numeră be cuius
deinonftratio talis est. Sint due inagnitudines a b communicantes, dico quod
earum pro portio eft,ſicut alicuius numeri ad alium numerumfit enim maxima quan
titas c cõmuniter menfurans a ®b, reperta ut docet xiij. Elementorum quæ
inenfuret a fecundum numerum d, o b fecundum numerum e, erita; a ad c, ut d'ad
unit atem eo quod ſicut a eft multiplex Citad eſt multiplex unitatis, at c adi
b, ut unit as ad e, quoniam ſicut c eft ſubmultiplex b, ita unitas eſt
ſubmultiplex e, igitur per aquam propor tionalitatem a adb, ut d ad e quod eft
propoſitum, Ecce quod f linea fecans a lineam in puncto F, non ſeparatprima
partē linet a, à fecunda parte CH POSTERIORVM ARIST. st n parte linee a, quis,
punctus copulansprimam partem lineæ & cum fes cunda parte, manet idem, immo
eſt communis punétus &ipfi lined a & ipſi f, intelle &tus tamen
intelligit primam, atquefecundam partem li nea 4, abſque quòd conſideret,ut ad
comunem punétum f copulentur. Ecce uides quomodo Euclides utitur medio
Arithmetico,ut puta nume ro in constructione, «æqua proportionalitate ad probandam
affeétio nëdemagnitudinibus, In vis uel 1 x propoſitione decimi utitur uns
decima octaui, tamquam principio Arithmetico in concludenda affe ftio ne de
magnitudinibus, hocfepißimefacit in toto decimo libro Eles mentorum
Magnitudines, numeri funt, quando ille habent communem menfuram qua communiter
dimetiantur, diameter igitur quadrati, Oſuacostanunquam funt, neque dicentur
quod ipfæ numeriſint,de ma gnitudinibus etiä que numeri ſunt trattat Euclides
in ſecundo Elemento rā à prima propoſitione ufq; ad undecimãexclufiue, Ecce quo
pacto utis mur arithmetico principio,circa Genusgeometricã, quod græciala -
tini non aduertentes prætereunt exponentesregulam Ariſtotelis uniuerfaliter,
quãipſe uult intelligi cumparticula exceptiua, In hac parte ex= ponenda
Aueroesimperitißimusfuit, ita utſua littera e directoſit con tra Ariſtotelis
fenfum, inquiens &propterea demonſtratio, quæ eft de queſito computatiuo,
non poteft trăsferri in aliam à computatiua,quem uirum clarißimum non miror,
ſimendacium hoc dixerit in ifta re parut ſed magis,eum admiror quòd cum
aliàsdiſciplinas mathematicas inuen taspropter ingenij exercitationem,
&quia etiam philofophus dixerit eas puerost adipiſci, ipſumuero Aueroin,neque
pueritia,necſuafeneétu te eas fuo ingenio intellexiſſe, niſi dixeris, quòd ipſe
elleuatus in eſtaſi intelligebat omnia per intellectum in actu, quo multa
peruerſo modo,e ordine intelligebat ſicut quædam fui fequaces Aueroico uerbo
cupientes Aueroiſtas dici, ignorantes tamen que Ariſt. mathematicis explicanda
propofuit, de quo intellectu poßibili, qui nihil eft eorum quæ uere ſunt ante
quam intelligat,utproponit philoſophus,aliquando aperiam,quòd non de ſeparato
illo chimerico intellectu ex littera cmente Aristotelis, debemus intelligere,ut
quidã Aueroiſta perperăget fequaces peßime in= terpretantur, pertranfeo tamëhæc
inpræfentiarü,et quia non eft hiclo cusdifferendiillud, et utfic docentes falfo,reſipiſcăt,
et ueritatem Arifto telicăianiam incipiãt et intelligeret &alios post
millenos annos docere. Hoc autem quemadmodum contingit in quibuſdam, po fterius
dicetur. littera fic intelligi debet, magnitudines quando ſint 1 1 H S8 IN
PRIMVM LIB: 3 numeri in quibufdam,nempein temporibus, ideft quádo ipfa tempord,
ut numeri concipiuntur, Poſterius dicetur,ut in libris de philoſophia et de
anima.Hoc loco habemus artificium ab Ariſtotele, quoGræcorumexpo fitorum
abufius mille,o latinorü millies millena millia errorum cognoſci mus,De
interpretibus uero noſtri temporis,ſierrent,non dico,fed intelli gas uelim, ut
quot uerba proferunt, tot mendacia contra Ariſtotelis or dinem ýmethodum
committunt. Quis enim legit Grecos, Latinos, o noftri temporis
expoſitoresAriſtotelis, non uideret conſiderauerit, illos ſepe, & fepe
fepius adducereloca odoctrinam datamin philofo phia uniuerſá, in libris de
anima, methaphiſicis, pro declaratione lo coruin logices, quis modus iſte
obfcuritatis eſt, per ignotißima declarda re ea, quæ aliquo modo ignota funt?
eper ea quibus accommodantur principia, ipſaprincipia uelle declarare, oper
poſterior aignota decla rare ipſum prius, ſic utfupponant iſti
declaratores,hominem eſſe philoa fophum, animaſticum, & methaphiſicum
antequàmfiat logicus,utille no Ater bonus homo docebat, quòd Ariftoteles
attulit tria exempla in fecun do textu,in tribus ſcientijs,ut ibi notaui
ha,ha,pereat modus iſte contra Ariſtotelis doctrinam,qui poftquàm
exceptuationem uniuerſalis regulæ fue fecit, inquit, hoc autem, quomodo
contingit, posterius dicetur, fic ut id,quod inphilofophia dicit, nonreuocetin
logicis declarandis, fedt diuerſo,exceptione qua in hoc locofacit,Pombaur
tanquam nota in philofo phia, ut ex notis ad ignota o utex uniuerfali ad
particularia tēpora procedat,perfuadeturigitur illa exceptio exx. libro
Elementorū ut des claratum eft, & non ex philofophiæ locis, vt proMilanius
utpúta ex his, quæ in Geometria notafunt, ad ea declaranda, quæ inlogicis traa
& antur, ut uera methodo, à notis diſcuramus adignota, fed fi idem in
theologos ſacrosobijcias, qui indiſcriminatim ad declarındas theologia cas
queſtiones loca uniuerſalis philofophiæ adducunt, igitur ipficra rant,refpondeo,
In thcologia cui omnesſcientic &tota uniuerſalis phi lofophia ancilantur
tanquam ſcalares gradus non inconuenit philofoe phic eliberalium artium
theoremata adducere, quia proceditur à nos tis ad ignota declaranda. Ita ut
ultra modum quo intelligimus Sacran do&trinam per reuelationem, ſunt quidam
alij modi intelligendi, ſuppoſia ta tamen reuelatione primo, unus eſt modus
deuotionis fpiritalis, quo particulariter dominusfuisfanétis, licet alias
indoctis tribuit intelligere, ut Petro intelligebat ea,quecontinebantur in
epiſtolis fratris noftri Pau li, quæ indocti deprauant ad fuum fenfum, non
intelligentes, Alius mo POSTERIORVMARIS T. 0 4 Ac LE FO r dus intelligendi
facras litteras prouenit ex ingenij uiuacitate tantum, qui modusmultas hærefes
attulitfidelibus. Tertius eft modus intelligendi beneficio naturalis
philoſophic, &hic etiam decipit innaniterfideles nis fiunctione
fanétifpiritusmoliaturfua duricies, hoc quidem tertio modo non intelligit
aliquis facras litteras, niſi inſtructus illis difciplinis, que precedunt ipfam
reginam theologiam, valeant igitur, eantuna oma nes ad olas carnium,
nonadScotia Thome libros, qui, his artibus &philofophia non callent, non
peccant igitur Theologitertio modo di di, copeccato, quo multiGræci, Latini,
&præfertim noui interpretes in Ariſtotelem peccant,confundentes docendi
ordinem. Videtur hæc ex poſitio, Ariftoteli oppugnare, ubi inquit Ariſt.
pofterius dicetur, ut in libris philofophiæ, dixi tamen ego ex decimo
Elementorum. Dico Arie ftotelem promittere quomodo continuum diſcretum
căcipiatur, fed Eye clides quo modo per principium Arithmeticum de magnitudineaffeflio
demonſtretur atq; concludatur. • Ex codem enim genere cft, extrema & mcdia
eſſe, fi namqucnonfunt per ſe accidentia erunt, propter hoc Geo metrię non eft
demonſtrare, quod contrariorum eadein eſt diſciplina, ſed neque quòd duo cubi
ſunt unus cubus, ſit heclitteræ expofitio, ut media oextrema debeant effe
eiufdemgeneris, media intelligas, feu in conſtructione medium, ſeu medium ad
probadum, quod eft, aut principium, uel etiam propoſitiopredemonftrata,que fus
mitur ad probandam aliam, propofitionem; extremorum autem nos mine (ubiait
extrema) intelligende funt ipſa concluſiones, utfitfenfus facilis, premiſſão
concluſiones ex codem genereeſſe debent. Sed ne que quòdduo cubi unus cubus fit,
Quomodounus tantum cus buserit,cum duo fint?duo prius feparatim erant,quiſi in
unum redigan tur, unum tantum efficiunt,ut due lincæ etiam una linea tantum
efficis citur, utdocet XIIII primi Elementorum xxx ſexti Elementos rum,vltra
aduertendum quod cötrariorum cadem eſtdiſciplina,ſed hoc non probat Geometra
ſimilitcr duo cubiunus cubus eft,quod etiam Geo metra non probat, his habitis
odeclaratis., ſtatim perit declaratio. cus iufdam philoſophi noui qui
maiorigrauitate quàm pondere utitur; dicit enim illa ſua innani
interpretatione, duo cubi in Arithmetica non faciunt ynum cubum, quod eft
di&tu, quod duo cubi numeri nonfaciunt unum cu bum numerum,ifta
interpretatio opponitur littere Ariſtotelis; li ttera anim affirmatiuc
loquitur, quòd duo cubi unumfaciuntcubum,oiſte no ни ex 46 in is hi De IN PRIMV
M LIB. ) uus philofophus exemplificat negatiue, quo mododuo eubi non faciunt
unum cubum; reiciatur igitur ſuainterpretatio, & Philoponi expoſitio
ſuſcipiatur, quæ hoc in loco fatis conſiderata eft, atque docta;Ratio enim
quare non demonſtrat Geometra,quòd duo cubi unum cubum far ciunt, eſt quia non
uerſatur Geometra circa genus folidorum, ut circa ſuuinſubiectum, fed uerſatur
tantun circa planorum genus, ut circa proprium ſubiectum, Stereometra autem
habet demonſtrare, quod duo cubi adinuicem aditi cubum unum cõficiunt, ut
ftatim explicabo inferius, cum de duplatione are delorum, & in fragmentis
logicis de triplatione, quadruplatione, quincuplatione, fexcuplatione,
eptuplatione, es dein ceps demonſtrationes fecero. In qua re ut Ioannes refert
Apolonij peri gei talis eft demonſtratio ab innumeris mendis purgata, opermepri
ſtino candori redita cum Euclidis propoſitionibus in locis fuis,utdecet
appoſitis, ac ſiab Apolonij manibus nunc procederet. Pro cuiusdemonſtrationis
notitia, aduertas quòd Art Delio Apoli ni dicata, eſto ſiuis ut trium eſſet
pedum, quando Apolo imperauit dea lijs peſte laborantibus, eiuſdem Are
duplationem, qui Geometrie impe riti (ut peneſunt in preſentiarum omnes totius
orbis Gymnaſiste )adide runt alteram tripedalem Aram prime are, etſicturbata,atý;
corrupta forma cubica are primæ,dederunt are duplate formă trabis, fic ut fex
pedű extendereturlongitudine, latitudineuero & craſitie trium pedum extenſa
eſſet Ara, forma in qua complacebat Apolo deperdita,fþreti igi tur propter hoc
delij ab-Apoline, & graue peſte adhuc laborantes, ad Platoně
confugerunt,qui eos redarguens, utGeometric imperitos tana dem eos adhuc dubios
reliquit dicens eis, ut duas lineas medias inter exa tremas inuenirentſecundum
eandem proportionem continuam. Et tunc ſcirent duplare Aram, formam habětem
cubicam, In qua re plurimigre corum laborauerunt tandem unus Apolonius perigeus,
duas inuenit lia neasillas medias Oſummo artificio duplarunt Aram delij,fubinde
ad peſte quieuerunt. Dátis igitur duabus lineis inæqualibus, quarum altera ſit
longitudo Ar & primo fabricatæ triumpedum, fecunda uero lineaſit ed, que
deno tet longitudinem trabis quamcompoſuerunt delij, &eſto pedum fex,ina
ter has duas reperiendæ funt duæ alia medie in continua proportionam
litate,quod in numerisfieri neutiquam eſt poßibile, fint igitur duæ data,
primafit b c, quæ erat longitudo prime Are, e a b.longitudo tras bis,
&ponatur per undecimam primi Elementorum uel per uigeſima POSTERIORVM
ARIST. tertiam eiufdem primi, ut rectumangulum contineant,eum uidelicet qui füb
a b c o compleaturparallelogrammum bd; per tertiam atque tri geſimamprimam
primi Elementorum;qg diameter ipſius per primum po ſtulatum primi Elementorum
ducatur a c o circa triangulum ac di per quintam quarti Elementorum deſcribatur
circulus a d.c, os produ catur linee b a,b c, per fecundum poſtulatum primi
Elementorum in directum ufque ad fe 8,0 per primum poſtulatum coniungan tur f
&, per lineam f g tranſeun b tem per punétum d, ita ut fe, æqualis fit
lineæ e g, hoc enim tan quàm petitum ſummitur indemons Äratum. (De quo, forſan
poſterius noſtra palade non nihil dicetur) ma nifeſtum utique eſt, quod ex fe
æqualis eft ipfi dg per hipoteſim, @primam animi conceptionem. f a f 6 f 6 6 G
gд g fil 6 g ď 6 6 egg f fa d Б6 c 1M14 8 с C f f a d AB Xa -f MC À с a TE lik
mo Ma Quoniam igitur extra circulum a dc punctum fumptum est feab ipſo dufte
linee rette f b, feſecant circulum ad punéta a v d, quod igi tur fit ex bf in
fa, per trigeſimamquintam tertij Elementorum,æqua le eſt ei, quod fit ex ef, in
fd, ac eadem ratione, &quodfit ex b & in c g æquale est, ei, quod fit
ex dg ing e, aquale autem eft id quod fitex dg in g e, ei quodfit ex e f in f d,
utraque enim utrij que equales funt, e f ſilicet ipſi d 8, og f d, ipſi eg,
igitur, ego quòd fit, ex bf in fa, æquale eftei, quod fit ex bg ing c, eſt
igitur, 62 IN PRIM VM.; L 1 B. ut fb ad b & perfecundam partem
decimequinteſexti Elementorum, ita g c ad f a,fed ut fb adb 8, fic es fa ad ad
per iij.fextiEleé mentorum, igitur per xi. quinti Elementorum g c ad f a,ut f a
ad ad, fimiliter per eandem xi. quinti Elementorum, ut dc adc 8, fic cg ad fa,
quia utraqueeft,ficutea, que est fb ad b 8, altera per fecundam partem xv.
reliquaper quartam fexti;ut d.c.ad cgpro pter fimilitudinem triangulorum, est
autem dcdqualisipfi ab,04 d, ipſi b c per xxxiij. primiElementorum, igituraut
ab ad cg ita f a ad ad, erat autem, out f bad bg, ideft ut a bad c g,fic cg ad
fa, igitur out ab adog, fic oipfacg.ad fia, o ipſa fid, ad b c, quatuor igitur
rectæ linea 46,8c,fa,bc, inuicem prom portionales funt,o propter hoc erit; uta
bad b c, ita quifit ex 4 b cubus, ad cubum, qui ex g cega qui ex g c, ad illum
qui fit ex f a, e qui ex fa, ad illum qui ex b c ex corrolario xxxiij. undecimi
Elementorum, igitur ut a b ad b ©, ita cubus quiex f a ad cubum qui ex b c, fed
a b dupla fumpta fuità principio, ipſius b.c, eft igia tur cubus, qui exfa,
duplus ad cu bum, qui ex b c, quod demon - g strandum errat. Berlin. g c.8 F G
f 6 f 6 6 a. 6 6 G 8 6 g ggġ Ġ gofa dic figffa d. o ga a 6 2. BВ POSTERIORVM
ARIS T. Eleg TEX. XLI. VEL XXII. F G ta 16 ORVM quæ ſæpe fiuntdemonſtrationes
funt & fcientiæ, ut lunæ deffectus, Quee dam noua queſtio à quodam nouo
interprete moues tur, circa particulas in textu poſitas, unde eft, quòdfæpefiat
demonſtratio of ſcientia de lune men ſtruo? Cumſit, quod luna nonſemper,
nequeſe pe eclypſetur, neque meſtruum patiatur? Queſtio mota fuit ex dus plici
ignorantia queex duplici menſtruoſitate contingit, uidelicet Solis Lune, quia
ille, qui eam mouerit, neque in die, neque nocte uidet, quid uelit Ariftoteles,
ſi tamen alta uoce Ariſtoteles streperet in huius doctoris aures, hoc
apponeretforſan miringam, ſın ditë, ſurdus ipſeerit ideo ille bonus homo,qui
quidam homo erat,fed nunc nefcio an aliquis ho mo ipſe ſit, monſtruoſamde lunæ
menſtruo folutionem,uel potius ligas mina tribuit auditoribus centum. Videas,
ſepeenim inquit nofter nos uus interpres, fit Lune eclipſis, quia
quandofit,tunc orientalibus quar ta hora, occidentalibus autem hora tertia,
magis autem occidentalibus hora ſecunda noctis &alijs etiam ad indos magis
tendentibus prima non & is hora apparet luna menſtrua:a, ecce inquit ille
interpres do&tus,quid ſepefit, ut puta intot horis noftis,
utfecunda&tertia atque alijs plu rimis. Quemirabilis doctrina @ſcientia, in
dialogis &fabelis, quas apud ignem raulieres habentreponenda magis, quàm
àuiro quoquo moa do etiam docto redarguenda eft, uel etiam à quouis audienda.
Litteraſic ordinetur, eorum demonſtrationes & fcientia ſunt, eorum dico,
que fæpefiunt. Dico igitur lunc deffe tusſæpe, atque ſemper fieri in plenie
lunio, quum terra diametraliter ponatur inter Solem Lunam, quod quidemnon in
omni plenilunio contingit, fed cum sol in capite, & Lue na in cauda
draconisfuerit, quod Plato explicans ait linea re& ta eft cu ius medium
obumbrat extrema, quamfententiam non intelligens quidam alius potius paraſcitus
quàm doctor, &ille est, quem ſuperius dixi hae, bere grauitatem maioren,
quàm pondus, redarguebat in quodam cons uiuio deffinitionem quam Paduano
Gymnaſio in primis meis le &tionibus publicis dederam, explicans
deffinitionem lineæ rectæ, que eft, à pun Ao in punctum breuißimaextenſio, aut
cuius medium ex æquofua inter 1 incet ſigna, hoc eft, cuius medium non reſultat
ab extremis, ſic explis IN PRIM VM LIB. cabam per fenfitiuam & materialem
lineam, ut facilius ipfa Geomes trica linea à tirunculis intelligeretur, linea
recta eft, cuius medium non obumbrat extrema, neque eſt hæc mea explicatio
rectæ lineæ, Contrda ria illi à Platone datæ, cum hæc in Geometria, illa uero
Platonis in Aſtronomia accomodanda ſit, neque in hoc ignofeendum erat, quia
igna rus Grecarum litterarum eſſem, ut ille efuriens greculus non lingua ne que
natione, fed apparentia tantum, Tipto propter tiptis duo agebat dicens mefalfam
le&tionem Latinam vidiffe, qua legeram in Platone, lie nea recta eſt cuius
medium non obumbrat, cum Græcus textus, affira matiue legatur fic cuius medium
obumbrat extrema, mitto hæc in Cora bonam, oad propoſitum à quo uidebar digredi
redeo, Cauſis igitur illis commemoratis concurrentibus, femper & ſaepe fit
Luna defectus, de qua Luna menſtruata habetur ſcientia, per medium illud, quæ
eft ter re interpoſitio inter Solem atque Lunam diametraliter, que cauſa pro
pria, & propinqua eſt ad Eclipfim de Luna concludendam, modo anfe pe fiat
demonſtratio uelfepe habeatur fcientia de Eclipſi Lune, hoc non tangit
Ariſtoteles., quia ly ſæpe eſemper, non determinant ly demon ſtrationes,
olyſcientia,fed determinantlydeffe &tusLune; illis igia tur cauſis
contingit Luna deffeétus fæpec ſemper,non autem illis quas commemorauit ille
phantaſticus, ſecunda uel tertia hora noétis. TEXTVS XLII ALIAS XXIII. VONIAM
autem manifeftum eft, quod unữ. quodque demoſtrare non eſt, ſed aut ex uno.
quoque principiorum, fi id quod demonſtra tur, ſit,ſecundum quod eft illud, non
eſt ſcire hoc quidem fi ex ueris & indemõſtrabilibus monſtretur, &
inmediatis, eſt enim ficmon, ſtrare, ficuti Briſon Tetragoniſinum,per commune
enim demonſtrant rationes huiuſmodi, quod & alí ineſt, unde & alíjs
conueniunt hæ rationes non cognatis, Quicquid anti qui dequadratura circuli
fenferint, dicam quid fenferim ego, habita prius notia littere, &cognito
textusſenſu, li ex ueris premißis, oins demonſtrabilibus, immediatis, fiat
demonſtratio, non autem fiat ex præmißis proprijs, opeculiaribus illi generi,de
quo fcientia queritur, ex illa demonſtratione per talia principia
primadi&ta non habeturſcien tid POSTERIORVM ARIST. 6 tla,immoneq; illa erit
demonftratio, quia per principia fieret talis pros ceſſus, que non tantum arti
Geometrie, fed alijs difciplinis accommo dari poffunt, quo errore Brifo.crrauit
tentans reducere aream circuli ad figuram rectilineam quadratam, quæ t alia
erant principia datur max ius, datur minus, igitur datur æquale, quidamſciolus
laborat, ut hæc principia uniuerfalia,propria fiant ipſiGeometric,dicens,daturquadra
tum maius circulo, datur quadratā minus circulo, igitur datur quadras kun
sequale ipſi circulo, et gloriaturinnani, & hoc fuum chimericâ con tulerit
cum yno do&tißimo huiys noftri Gymnasij, qui non folum perfua fionemualidam,
fed et demonftrationem eam effe affirmauit; fcito enim, quòd os folidis, e
linels, o numeris coaptatur iſta dedu &tio, ut datur numerus maior denario
eminor denario, igitur datur equalis nume rus denario, es ſic in alijs plurimis,
dico tamen quod huius fcioli do&to ris contra tio in propoſito nulla eft ad
oſtendendum intenti, quia ultra quod Briſo errans,proceßit per comunia
principia,errauit etiam errorç peßimo in conſequentia,ut ex his
quæfuperquintadecima terty Elemen torī Euclidis demonſtrantur &fuper
trigeſima ciufdem,Ariſtoteles au tem folum redarguit ipfum in co, quod egit
contra regulam de proprijs principijs,quicquid de confequentia fitprætermittens
tanquam non res Marguendum, ut oppoſitum ſuedat& regul«. De quadratura,
errore Brifonis, Anthiphontis, Hipocratisc Boetij atque iuniorum trattabo in
fragmentis mathematicis ſuper live bro pofterioruin. TEXTVS XLV ALIAS XXIII. ED
demonftratio non.conucnit in aliud nus, aliter quàm ut dictum eſt, Geometricæ
in mechanicas, aut perſpectiuas, & arithme ticæ in harınonicas. XXXVII
textu determis nauit Ariſtoteles quòd ad Geometram non pertinet de BRAVAS PRINT
monſtrare quod duo cubifaciant unum cubum, ratio, ut ibi declarani
aßignabaturquia Geometra O stereometrauerfantur cir ca diuerſagenera, alter
circa planum, & reliquus circafolidum, hoc au fem textu dicit, quod
geometrice demonftrationes conueniunt in genus mechanicum, ait enim geometrice
in mechanicas, pro qua apparenti contradictione, eft aduertendum quòd
Stereometrica per principia Gear I IN PRIMVM.LIB. metric probantur quia in
terminis corporis, qui ſunt ſuperficies, ille geometricæ demonſtrationes
attribuuntur, ideodemonftratio Geometri ca hoc modo in mechanicas,conuenit, o
ſinon fint circa idem genus, necfubfe inuicem diſcipline. TEXTVS XLVI ALIAS
XXIIII. VID quidem igitur fignificent, & prima, & quæ ex his funt,
accipiendum eft, quòd au: tem ſint principia quidem, eft accipere, Alia uero
demonftrare, ut unitas, & quid rectum, & quid triangulus,effe autem
unitate accipe re & magnitudinem,altera uero demonftra re. Dedatoibi quid
fignificent de dignitatibus ibi & priina. De que fito ibi, &
quæexhisfunt. Exempla omniafunt in boc textu dedato; primum eft in
decimaſextaſeptimi elementorum ubi de unitate,que ſe ba bet ad aliquemſecüdum
numerum, ficut quilibet tertius adaliquem quar tum,concluditur q, ipſa unitas,
itafe habebit ad tertiã numerum, ſicutfc cãdus numerus ad quartum,fecundã
exemplum eftde data linea in prima propofitione primiElementorum,de qua
demonſtratur quàd fit æqualis, welminor cæterisduabus lineis re&tis
continentibus,Iſopleurum, uel ifo feelem, uel Scalenonem,uel etiam exemplum hoc
apparet indecima pri mi Elementorum ubi concluditur de linea recta, quòd ſit
biffariamfe &ta, Tertium exemplum de dato, eſt in xxx 11 primi Elementorum,
ubi de dato Trigono concluditur. habeat tres angulos duabus re&tis paresnon
tantum, quid ſignificentoportet preaccipere, fed etiam iſta effe, vt tan dem de
dato nonfolum quidfignificet, quod etiam eſt queſiti,preaccipes re, fed eo
quidſignificet effe, vtrumque fupponendum ſit (licet non femper,)ut quid ſit
unitas,et unitatem effe,quemadmodum ſecundo textu predocuit Ariſtoteles, uerbum
hoc, magnitudinem, intelligendum eſt, rectam lineam,ut decima primi elementorī,et
triãgulum,ut trigeſima ſe cīda primi elemétorum,quem triangulum,et reetū,
explicite protulit ab unitate,inquiens alia uero demonſtrare, ut quid unitas,
quid rectiem, Oquid triangulus fignificet, elle autem unitatem accipere &
magnitus dinem, hoc loco aduertendum est Ariſtotelem, ſeiunctam poſuiſſe unita
tem à refto trigono, quæ duo nempe reétum & trigonum amplexi fuifſe in
unico uerbo hoc, magnitudinem, propter hoc ut intelligenda POSTERIORVM ARIS T.
effet unitas de qua hic loquitur principium numeri feu multitudinis, de. qua
quidem unitate alia affe&tio concluditur, quàm de unitate linee, de qua
loquebatur in fecundo textu huiusprimi, wratio interpretationis apparet
exlittera, quia de quolibet dato. feparatim concluditur pro prium queſitum, ut
hoc textu declaraui. TEX. XLVII VEL XX IIII & 24 Allia 721, pe Court Alle
Blato che * with rima alis -life pri eld Side Vntautē quibus utimur in
demonftratiuis ſciētíjs alia quidē propria uniuſcuiufq fcič tiæ, alia uero
cómnunia, comunia autemfer cundum Analogiă, quoniam utile eft,quá. túeft in eo
(quod eft fub fcientia ) genere, propria quidem, ut lincã elſe huiufinodi.
&rectum, De dignitatibus hoc loco loquens, exempla de dignitatis bus
prèbens ait. Alia quidem propria uniuſcuiuſq & c.Propria Geometrie ſunt
ifta, utlineam elfelongitudinem illatabilem or ſine pro fonditate,hacde caufa
dixit lineameſſe buiufmodi,id efthabere banc defa finitione, & reétum, vt
puta recta linea est, que ſua ex æquali intera iacetſigna,uel linea recta eft à
punéto in punctum breuißima extenſio, non intelligas lineam, &rectum,
Jolitarie o incomplexe,quia hoc loco de dignitatibus,que complexa funtloquitur:
non de incomplexis utde linea tantă, ca de recto tantum ſed, dehoc cöplexo
linea est longitudo illa tabilis; ¢ linea recta eſt,quæ ex æquali ſua
interiacet ſigna,de linea in uniuerfali, fubinde de contracta uſpecificalinea
recta exempla explicăs, Communia autein ut æqualia ab æqualibus ſi auferas,quòd
æqualia reliqua ſunt. Aliqui indoctirelatores interpretum et inter pretes
Arifto, non intelligentes hunc locum; naturam Geometrie ſcien tie perdunt,
dicentes Geometram per principia communia procedere, id autem eft contra
ueritatem ex parte rei econtra Ariftotelis do &tria nam. Pro
cuiusdifficultatis nodo extricando, aduertendum quod princi pium iftud,de
quolibet ente,uerum eftdicere quodeſt,uel no eſt tale, nun quam in
demonftratione ponitur, nec eo utimur niſicontrate, oquae dam
determinationeadgenus aliquod terminatum, er pro altera diſiuna Eti
parteaccepto,nulli enim fcientia eft, aut diſciplina, que utatur illo principio
pro utrag; diſiunéti,fed pro altera tantū parte, Sinile de hoc (& alijs
huiufmodi) principio, fi ab.equalibus æqualia auferas, que re MON jpes non exti
ell I i IN PRIM VM LI'B. Manent,æqualia funt, audiendum eft, nulla quippe
diſciplinaest, que es utatur niſi contracte, fic quòd Geometra nunquam eo ufus
eft præters quam inhisquæ circa planum uerfantur, utfi ab equalibus lineis,uel
fu perficiebus,aut angulis,equates lineæ, uel fuperficies aut anguli deman tur,
quæ remanent lineæ,uel fuperficies,aut anguli funtæquales,quão primum autem
principium hoc contrahitur, non eft amplius commune Guniuerfale, fed fit
proprium illius generis fcientiæ ad quod contrahis tur, quod uerohæc noftra
declaratio fit ad Ariſtotelis mentemmanifes. ſtum eſt ex predicamento
quantitatis ubi de diſcreto econtinuo agens, determinat quod utrique proprium
eft peculiare fecundum eamæqua leuel inæquale dici, ſi inſtetur ex
menteAriſtotelis dicentis, principiunt. - iſtud effe commune, inquit enim,cõnunia
autē &c. Dico illud prin cipium eſſe commune, ſi non contrahatur,
quàmprimim uero contrahi tur non eftcommune amplius, ftatim enin fequeretur
contradi&tio, quod eſſet commune ono commune, doétrina hæcmeacoheret his,quæ
Aucroes commentationemagna affentiriuideturfuper hoc textu, o his que
Ariſtoteles hoc loco dicitinquiens;fufficiens eft autemunumquoda que iftorum
quantum in genere eſt,hoc eft quatenusad determinatū get nus contrahitur, de
principijs loquens,ubi de datis dixerit, & tertio lo co de queſitis, ibi
quodautē ſint demóftrant, o fi adhuc inftes e Theon &Campanus non
contracteinquatuor primis libris Elemento rum, a quod Euclides affixit illud
principium primo libro, dico quod Căpanus &TheonbreuiloquioStudentes
accipiuntipſum principiū fne Contractione, femper tamen op ubique uolunt ipſum
intelligi contra &te cum determinatone ad illud genus ad quod-co utimur,
aliter. errarent, Euclides autem primo libro affixit, quid utitur ipfo con
tracto in primis quatuor libris, Adhuc fi fortiuscontra hanc expo fitionem
precipue inſtetur quod fiquid ueritatisſaperet, statim haberea tur circuli
quadratura per hæcprincipia contra&ta, datur quadras tum maius circulo,
datur quadratum minus circulo igitur dabitur quadratum æquale circulo,
refpondeo, quò du os errores commiſit Briſo, o talis argutus doctorolus inter
arguendum, primo quia Brie so per principia comunia, iſte audem do&tor per
contra &ta illa princi pra, feduterque in æquiuocisarguebat, circulus enim
et quadratum equi uoce funt figuræ altera enim curuilinea reliqua uero
re&tilinea eft, hunc errorem fecundum non inuenies in mea hac
expoſitione,&contra ipfam inftantianulla est, de crrore autem
Briſonisfuſius in noftris fragmentis POSTERIOR V MARIS T. 3 Logicis. Idem enim
faciet & fi non de omnibus accipiat fed in magnitudinibus folum,
Arithmeticæ autein in numeris. Diuinus Philoſophus quàmprimum explicuerit, quæ
namfunt propria per duplex exemplum uniusfeientia Geometria, linee uidelicet,
&lia neæ recte, •fubiunxerit, que nam ſint communia principia exent plum
prebens tale, nquit, ut æqualiaab æqualibusfi auferas quod æqua lia ſint
remanentia, ſubiunxit quomodo hoc principium &fimilia cone trahantur ad
proprium genus ſcientiæ &propriafiant dicens, ſuffia ciens eſt,unum quodque
iſtorum, quantum in genere est, fufficiens quie dem acſi peculiaribus atqi
proprijs principijsuteretur Geometra uteng iſto principio, æqualia ab æqualibus
ſi auferas æqualia remanent, non quidemſi de omnibus accipiat, non quidem dico
demonstrabit Geometra: fi fic de omnibus & uniuerfaliter ſine contractione
utatur, fed demon, ſtrabit quidem, inquit Philofophus,ſi in magnitudinibus
folum, id eſt contracte o determinatim,eo ufus fuerit.Vtfic, fi ab æqualibus
lineis ſuperficiebus, angulis, Arithmeticus, fi ab æqualibus numeris æqua les
lineas ſuperficies angulos uel numeros auferas quod æquales linea fuperficies
anguli onumeri remanebunt. Tunc uult Ariſtoteles quód iftud principiumſic
contractumreddatur propriumipſi Geometra, og Arithmetico &unicuique
artifici in fua arte, ac fi peculiari epros prißimo uteretur, non procedit
igiturGeometra per communia prins cipia neque ob id, quia per cominunia
procedit Geometria, ideo non fit dicenda ſcientia ipſa Geometria, ut quidam
ingeniofus noftri teme poris immaginatur. Sunt autem propria quidem & quæ
acci piuntureſſe, circa quæ, fcientia fpeculatur, quæ ſunt per le, ut
Arithmetica unitates, Geometria autem figna & lineas. Euclides in
Arithmeticis ab oskaud propoſitionenoniElemene torum uſque ad tredeci mam
incluſiue accipit unitates, ſed ſigna id eſt punta accepit in ſecunda
wtrigeſima prima primi Elementorum, lie neas uero in primt, ſecunda,&
tertia primi,atque in undecima undecimi Elementorum. Hæc enim accipiunt eſſe,
& hoc eſſe, idemo dixit in principiofecundi textus,ut de dato
precognoſcatur utrunque &quid &quia est, accipiunt eſſe,id est
deffinitionemſeu deſcriptionem welquid per nomenfignificatur, ex hoceffe,nempeactueſſe,
uel mente oaštu.confideratiuo effe, id quod concipiunt, quod eſſe potentia,uel
effe aptitudinedicunt. Horum autem pafsiones funtper fe quid quidem figni IN
PRIMVM L'IB. ficet unaquæque accipiunt, ut Arithmetica quidem quid par, Sicut
uigefimaquinta noni Elementorum, aut impar, ut trige fimanoni Elementorum, Aut
quadrangulus,ut xxxvi. noni Ele mentorum, &quilibet numerus à duobus
duplus,ut xxxv. eiufdem, a eut declaraui ſuper textu xx. de altera parte
longiori, Aut cubus ut quarta noni Elementorum ſic intelligantur termini
exemplorum in Arithmetica;Geometra uero quid irrationale,ut XI. X. Elementorum,
aut inflecti per contactum in unico puncto ex xij.ex xv.tertij Elemen. aut
concurrere, ut xv.xi. Elementorum oprima Elementorum Geo metrie Vitellionis.
Animaduerſione dignum est hoc, quod Geometra nunquàm hanc affectionem, ut
irregularitatem deunica lineafola con = fiderat, neque etiam de una tantum
linea id concludit, quicquid Cama panus ſentiat, fed id de linea una ad aliam
comparata atque relata, cum qua non habet uliquam communem menſuram, ut est
diameter wcofta quadrati. Inflexio uero in una atque eadem linea circulari eft,
quætan gat aliam rectam lineam uel alium circulum interne, uel etiam exterins,
in unopuncto tantum, quia inflexa non fecat nequere & amlineam, nes que
etiam circulum, quorum utrumlibetfaceret linea recta, eifdem ! recte linee 6
circulo non contingenter neque in directum applicata. Quod autem fint paſsiones
per fe demonſtrant per coin munia & ex his quæ demonftrata furt & Aftronomia
funi liter. De datis dequibusaccipiebamus quid fignificarent &effe, de
monſtrant artifices Arithmeticus OGeometra per communia, idef per uniuerſalia
principia (que tamen unius generis ſint) v ex his etiam propoſitionibus, quæ
prius demonſtrata funt, affectiones illas predis Etas, ſicut etiam aſtronomus
facit, utper ea quæ in Geometria probas ta ſunt, etiam per propoſitiones
probatas in Aſtronomia concludat etfiEtionesfequentrum Theorematun. TEX.
XLVIII. ALIAS X XV. VASDAM tamen fcientias nihil prohibet quædain hortin
defpicere, ut genus non ſupponere effe, & fit manifeftum quoniam eft,non
eniin ſimiliter manifeftuin eft,quo niam numerus fit, & quoniam calidur,
& frigidum fit. Natura enim &per fenfum notum POSTERIO RVM ARIST. $ 200
ill 0 si est, quonian calidum eft, ideo non eft opus precipere mente o ſuppoi
fitione aliqua intellettuali, «quadamſcrupuloſa indaginefuum quiade calido,
quando calidum eſt ſubiectum ſeu datum uel genus, hoc cafu, quandoeft notum
quia est dati, deſpicitur præcognoſcere mentis inda gatione de dato, an fit?
Quod noncontingit ſimiliter de numero, quans donumeruseft datum, de eo enim eft
necefſe mente e intellectuali acte preaccipere quia numeri, Videlicet quod
numerusaétu est mente con: ceptus, ac fiexifteret aétu, uel aptitudinem ad
exiftendum habeat, en hoc quidempropter hoc, quod numerus neque nataraneque
fenfu aetud liter percipiturquòd fit, fed tantun intelleétu dignofcitur, @ hæc
duo exempla de dito prebetnobis Ariſtoteles,ſubinde de queſito feu paßione
facit exceptionem dicent, & paſsiones non eft accipere quid fi gnificent ſi
fint manifeltæ, ut puta ſi fit notiſsimum quodtale no men -notifsimam rem
ſignificet. Tunceo cafu non prerequiritur indas gando quid fignificet illud
nomen, quia iam notum eſt. De dignitatibus.au tem idein excipit ab
uniuerſaliregula,qua dixit fecundo textu, alia nana que quia funt prius opinari
neceſſe eſt,utomne quidem quod est,aut affir mareaut negare uerum eſt, quia eſt,
o textu xlvi.aliud prebet exem plum, utæqualiaab æqualibus fiauferas, quòd
æqualia reliqua ſunt, de his communibus principijs non eft preſuponerequia eft.
Cum ipſorīt ugritas quafi natura nota fint, quaſi natura dico, utputa quia
notis ter minis ipſarum dignitatum, statim notum est, quia est ipſarum
dignitatum fecus autem eft de dignitatibus proprijs cuique arti,quia tunc non
est,fa tis,quid fimplices terminiſignificent preaccipere,fed opus etiam eſt pré
cognofcere copulationem terminorū effe neceffariam, ueram,ut quòd circulus fit
figura plana unicalinea contentain cuius medio punctus est à quo ad
circunferentiam omnes recta linea duétæ funtæqualesfecludit, igitur
ariſt.àfubie&to ipſum quia quandoipſum eſſe,manifesti est,non ſecludit
ipfum quid est, ut exponit loan.Gram. Alexander, A queſito ſecludit aliquádo
quid eft,era comunibus dignitatibus ipſum quia,quando notumeft quid
queſitumfignificet, &quando ueritasdignitatum eſt mani feftifsima quod
autem hæcde datofeuſubiecto expoſitio ſit germanatex. Ariſt.ut uidelicet
excludat àſubiecto ipſum quia,& non ipſum quid,mani feſtă eſt in
littera,ubi ait,Genus non fupponere efle fi fitmanife ftūquoniã eſt non dicit
Arift.genus no ſupponere quid ſitexemplü de queſito,quandonon
accipiturquidſignificet est propoſitione xiiij.primi: Elemen.quod est,indiređã
linea una,quod quidē quid ſignificet non tung OI MI deo per da Jet OB um 10
& IN PRIM VM LI B. preaccipitur,cumfit notum ex deffinitione quarta primi
Elementorum, quodnon queratur, quia eft, quando est notum,id apertißime dicit
philofophus textu fecundo ſecundi Poſteriorum,inquit enim,inuenien tes autem,
quia deficit pauſamus, & fi in principio ſcirc mus, quia deficit,nó
queremus utruin, cum autem fcimus ipſum quia,ipſum propter quid querimus &
c. TEXTVS LII ALIAS XXV. EQYEGeometra falſa ſupponit,ſicut qui dam affirmant
dicentes, quòd non oportet falſo uti, Geometram autem mentiri, dis centem
lineam eſſe unius pedis,quę unius pedis non eft, autrectam lincam, non ree
&tam cxiſtentem, ut in prima propoſitione prin mi elementorumfuper datam
rectam lineam triangulum collocare, etiam in decima primi Elementorum datam
lineam rectam, eum biffaria diuidere iubet Geometra, os ſiilla linea, que
atramento pingitur, uel penna aut ſtilo protrahitur reta non fit, non ob id
tamen dicendum eft, Geometram errare, quia non ad id intentionem dirigit
Geometra quod oculis fubijcitur, fed ad id potius, quod intus animo concipit,
dirigit intentionem, ideo non contingit Geometram circa aſſumptam materiam
errare et mentiri, Geometra enim nihil concludit fecundum hanc lie neam pitam,
quam ftilo pinxerat, fed fecundum intus conceptam lie neam, demonſtrationem
percurrit,idem habet Ariſtoteles primo priorã ante mutuamfyllogifmorum
reſolutionem non errat etiam Geometra cir ca formam fyllogiſticam, ut textu 59
62, ait Ariſtoteles, igitur cer tißimefunt diſciplinegeometria, et non
quiafenfatæ fint, ut falfo quis dam dicunt, Quia intus concipiuntur. TEXTVS LIX
ALIAS XXVIII. VONIAM autem ſunt Geoinetricæ inters rogationes non ne funt &
non geometri. cæ? & in unaquaque fcientia,fecundü qua lem ingnorantiam funt
Geoinetricæ? & utrum quiſecundum ingnorantiam fyllo giſmus eft, fit qui ex
oppoſitis fyllogifo mus, POSTERIORVM ARIST. 3 dis 2018 pria vik est 200 gt mus;
an paralogiſinus? In unaquaque fcientia contingunt fieri in terrogationes,
ficut in Geometria, In geometria autembiffariam contin git interrogatiofieri,
uno quidem modo,ut nihil fapiat de illo, quod inter rogat, ut fiquis querat an
icoceruus habeat tres æquales duobus rectis, ignorans omnifariam &quidfit
Icoceruus, & quid ſithabere tres duo bus reétis æquales, hic interrogans
habet ignorantiam fecundum nega. tionem, quia omnis habitus negatur in eo de
illa re, quam querit. Altero autem modo, ut interrogās ſciat quippe partim de
illo, quod querit, par tim uero non, ut adinuicem parallelas concurrere,fciat
nanque que nani lineæ rectæ fint, oſcit quòd in utranque partem protrahuntur,
ſcit etiam, quisnam ſit duarum linearum concurſus, &quatenus iſta nouit et
interrogat,Geometrica queſtio atq; Geometrica interrogatio eft, quate inus
autem opinatur an parallelæ in infinitum protrate concurrant,hac ex parte,non
eft Geometrica quæſtio, et habet hic ignorantium habitus, idest fecundum
habitum, quo fcit lineas rectas, ceas in infinitum pro trahi polle, et
concurſum linearum effe in eadem ſuperficie, cum illo qui dem habitu, ſtat hec
ignorantia, ut ne ſciat quòd etiam ſi in infinitura protrahantur, non
căcurrunt. Errore hoc peßimo in interrogatione er rauit Pſcelus Grecus,
quifuitilla tempeſtate quorundain Grecorum ho minum, qui præter uoces re ipfa
nihil penitusaut parum doctrinæ has bebant, in quam calımitatem credo
plurimosnoſtri temporis Græculos incidiſſe, Tentauit ipfe diuidere tonum, qui
fexquioctaua proportione co ſtat accipiebatô; neruos duos, qui tacti,
interuallum foni haberent, quos rum utrumlibet biffariam diuidebat, fubinde
arguens agebat, totus ners uus maior ad totum neruun minorein habebat toni
ratione, igitur medie tas nerui ad nerui alterius medietate,ut medietas toni ad
toni medietaté, poyo fic putabat dimidium Toni, hoc eſt ſemitonium uerum
adinueniſſe, ignorans pauper, quod proportio totius nerui ad totum neruum eadem
eft, que dimidij nerui ad dimidium alterius nerui per decimamoctauam
@decimamnonam ſeptimi Elemětorum, erat igitur non Armonica quæa ftio, qua
quærebat, an tonus dividi biffariam poſſet? Verus autem Geo. metra ille eft,
qui non habet ignorantiam neque ſecundum negationem, neque fecundum priuationem,
«ille non facitinterrogationes non geo metricas, neque interrogationes
partimgeometricas opartim non geo métricas, ſed interrogationesfacit
omnifarians geometricas, ut, an trian gulus cõſtitutus in tabula, habeat tres
æquales duobus reitis pares, Geo metra non errat, circa uffumptam materiā,ut
tex. 52. determinauit phi lik line et K IN PRIM VM LIB.. lofophus,non errat
circa interrogationes, ut hoc textu patuit, neque era rat in forma, in ſua
induftione, ut demonſtrat Ariſtoteles in textu. 62. nullus igitur error in
Geometria contineri poteſt ex mente Ariſtotelis, hanc eandemfententia habet
Galenus in de erroribuscognoſcendis et cor rigendis, quo loco innumeras
Geometrie utilitates narrat. TEXTVS LXII ALIAS XXIX. ONTINGIT autem quofdam non
fyllogi. ſtice dicere propter id quod accipiunt ad utraque conſequentia, ut
& Ceneus facit, quod ignis in multiplicata analogia fit. Scito Ariſtotelem
Cenei mentē recte intellexiſſe, que quia in formafyllogiſtica errabat
parallogizădome rito eum redarguit, ut Joannes exponit,ſed aduertendum eſt in
materia parallogiſmi, quo modo id cita creſcat in multiplicata analogia, quia
ut Alexander errauit in hac expoſitione quëadmodum Philoponus ei ima ponit non
minustamen & ipfe etium loannes grammaticus grauiter era rauit aliter
exponens quàm Alexander,oſi fuam expofitionem confir met Procli diadochi
auctoritate, qui Proclus, ſi ita fenferit, ut ioana nes refert, perperam hunc
locum interpretatus eſt,«mentem Cenei nõ intellexit,inquit Ariſtoteles de mente
Cenei, quod in multiplicata analo gia creſcit, id cito creſcit, non autem ait,
quod in multiplicationetermi porum analogia creſcit, id cito creſcit ſicut ipſe
loannes & Proclus terminos analogie multiplicentfic, 1,2,4, 8, 16, 32, 64,
128, 256, $ 12, 1024, 2048. Egouero aliter de mente Ariſtotelis ♡Cenei
dico ex doctrina Eucli dis deffinitione undecima quinti Elementorum, &ex
deffinitione primi Geometrie uitellionis ubi quantitates denominantes ipſas
proe portiones multiplicantur non termini, ut loannes Proclus facies
bant,arguebat ſic Ceneus,quæcung cito creſcit augentur in multiplicata Analogia,
ſed ignis augetur in multiplicata Analogia, igitur ignis cito creſcit,ubi maior
&minor in ſecundafigura ſunt affirmatiua. Talis au tem error parallogizando
à Geometra non committitur, igitur certiſie ma, ca in primo certitudinis gradu
Geometria reponitur, POSTERIOR VM ARIST. 248 2 3 3.2 ov 4 64 16 1 2 8 16 2 S6
256 S 12, 1 256 65536 4 0 24 2 048 ei ad CI, C. qué mee erit 4096 8 1 9 z 1.63
8.4 32768 6 ss36 Julia ima 1 eta infor TEXTVS LXIII ALIAS XXIX. ină Tomi club =
56 wich ro cies ONVERTVNTVR autem magis, quæ funt in mathematicis, quoniam
nullum reci s piunt accidens. Secunda pars trigeſimaſecunde primi Elementorum
eſt, quodomnis triangulus duos bus rectis paret habeat, id autem probat prima
pars trigefimaſecunde,& ſecunda, o prima pars uigefi menone, &tertia
decima primiElementorum, quæ omnes propoſitio nes concurrunt ad probandam illam
conclufionem, quæ conclufio ſi in fua principia illatiua reſoluatur,non niſiin
illareſolui poteſt, que ſupra commemoraui, ubi cernis &compoſitiuam
methodum, ab illis principijs ad illam illatam conclufionem, reſolutiuam
methodum ab illa conclus fione ad illa principia regrediendo, quihabitus
reſolutiuus altißimus eft, e profecto ſignum eft re &te fapientis. Cumautem
conclufiones in mathematicis fequantur ex determinatis principijs, tunc ibi
facie lior eft reſolutio à concluſione in principia quàm in Topicis, ubi ex
uagis, ofolum apparentibus, quandoque etiamfufpeftis odiuerſis, cito # Bie Kij
7.6 IN PRIMVM LIB. @non ex unis principijs concluditur quippiam de hac re,
abundantius infragmentis nostris mathematicis fuper Ariſtotelis loca dicturus
fum. TEXTVS LXIIII ALIAS XXIX. & fit par eſt ers VGENT VR autein, non per
media, ſed in aſſamendo, ut a de b, hoc autem de c, rurfus hoc de d, & hoc
in infinitum. Et in Iatus, ut a de b, & de e, ut eſt numerus quantus, uel
infinitus,hoc autem fit in quo eſt a, nunerus impar quantus in quo b, numerus
imparin quo c,eft ergoade c, & fit quantus numerus, in quo d par numerus in
quo e, go a de e. Exépla duo attulit primo in poſt ſumendo,ſecüdo in litus ſu
mendo, primo exemplī prebet in numerisin poſtfumendo,ut a numerus, de b numero
impari, et b,de numero c primodicitur igitur a numerus de c numero
primodicitur, In latus ſumendo numero pariter exemplificat, pro cuius notia,
imaginare arborem porphirianam,cui fimilē in numeris finge, &numerum quantū,qui
etiam potentia infinitus eſt, loco ſubſtans tiæ apta; infinitus ait propterhoc,
quia omnes imparis atque paris nu = meriſpecies,quæ in infiritum
crefcunt,potentia continet,ſicutſubſtan = tia fuas inferiores potentia fpeties
continet, his autem numerus non po teft effe aliquis determinatus quantus, quia
quicunque daretur, aut par effet, aut impar, qui non poteft effe communis pari
&impari, fed talis debet eſſe numerus uniuerſaliter ſumptus, noluit autem
uti iſto uer bo, uniuerfaliter, quia non eſt terminus Arithmeticus,ſedſpectat
magis ad dialecticuin, ideo loco debito ufus eſt proprio uerbo hoc, uidelicet,
ins finitus,quæ uox numero conuenit, ſicut incremento creſcat in infinitum
inſuis fpetiebus, & numerus fic acceptus diuiditur in imparem, atque pa rem,
&imparis numeri diuiſio est, in primum numerum,ocompofi tum, prinus autem
numerus dicitur in fui natura, &ſine comparation, ne ad alium quemcunque
numerum,o ille eſt quiſola unitate metitur,ut. 3, 5, 85" 7, 13. Compoſitus
numerus eft, qui alio numeroaf e,oo ab unitate diuerſo, dimetitur, ut 9, aut 25,
à ternario, & à quinario dimetiuntur, is compoſitus diuiditur in parem,
atque imparem, et par quidem numerus ille eſt,qui biffariam ſecari poteft, ohic
partitur in pariter parem, qui in duo æqualia fecantur, partes eius, quoufquc
POSTERIORVM ARIST. 1 ad unitatem uentum ſit, ut trigeſima. In pariter imparem
qui quidem in duo equalia partitur, partes in duo æqualia non fufcipiunt
ſectios niem,ut quatuordecim. In impariter partem, qui quidem in duo æqualia
diuiditur partes ſimiliter in duo æqualia, fed hæc partitio, uſque ad unitatem
non peruenit, ut trigintaſex, de quibus Euclides libris ſeptia mo o octauo,
nono Elementoruin, Nicomacus atque Boetius primo Oſecüdo Arithmetice, Quo autem
ad Ariſtotelis textī attinet, manife ftum erit exemplumſuum, numerus infinitus
fiue quantusſit a numerus autē quantus &determinatus ſub ipſo ſit b,
numerus alius nempe infes rior ad b ſit cog,par autem numerus quantus ſit d,
qui trifaria ſeca tur in e k l, ut dictum fuit fupra, eft ergo a ded,
&etiam de e k lo In latus autem dixit,quiane dum per rectam lineam arboris,
fed ex utra que partefumptio facta fuit. ES 11 in Exemplum in poſt.fummendo. 5,
Exemplum in latus fummendo. 11: 111erus 111: 11CTUS -is 14 impar primus 13 50
ut impar 6 d par ed S A i primus compofitis. 16 14 pariterper impariterpar
pariter impar. 12 is 14 inte Aduertendumquod exemplum in numeris eſt
contractius, quàm prius propofuerit per litteras,ideo ne labores in numeris tot
numerosfübfea inuicem poſitos, quot litteras, ibicommemorat, exempla duoin
numeris appofui ut alia ipſe in textufecit, ne alia aliterdefiderentur. mo. 6 8
IN PRIMVM LIB. > TE X. LXIIII. A LIAS X X X. Iffert autem quia & propter
quid fcire primo quidem in eadem ſcientia & in hac dupliciter uno quidein
modo, ſi non per immediata fiat fyllogiſmus, non enim accipitur prima cau fa,
quæ uero fcicntia proprer quid, per pri mam caufam eft. Hoc quidem primo modo
non prebet exemplum aliquod philofophus, quicquid Aueroes, Philopou nus,
fequaces fentiant, fed exemplum profecundo modo appofuit unicum folummodo pro
quia, de ſintillatione planetarum, de rotons ditate autem Lune dedit etiam exemplum,pro
fecundomodo quia,quo ta men exemplo declarat etiam quo pacto fieret propter
quid demonſtratio O ob id imminutus aut ſuperfluus non fuit, quia primo modo
textus est clarus ſatis, c profecundo modo quia,duo exempla prebetin diuers ſis
ſcientijs, utrunque exemplum est in ſcientijs medijs, alterum est in optica,
reliquum est in Aſtronomia, &quia textus est ſatisclarus in duobus exemplis
quantum ad inductionis modum. Primo declaro prie, mum modum, quo, quia à
propter quid differt de quo primo modo,quo, quia a propter quid differt nullum
dat exemplum,ubi ait uno quidem modo,fi non per immediata fiat fyllogif. ita
habet textus Philo ponio Aucrois Argiropilus autě habet, uno quidē modo fi
ratio tinatio non per ea, quę uacant medio fiat,utloco uerbiſyllogiſ. legatur
ratiotinatio, omelius meo iudicio, cum illud uniuerſalius fit uer bū, fenfus
tamen ille est, utfi fiat deduétio, non per immediata,erit demon ſtratio quia;
ut fide homine concludatur reſpiratio, eo quod ſitanimal, ſi uero de homine
concludatur quòd reſpirat, eo quòd pulmonem habet, eritdemonſtratio propter
quid, oin utroque modo,concluditur res spiratio follogifmo ut omne animal
reſpirat,cæt.velomne habens pul: monemreſpirat & c. Si uero lectiofiat
ſecundum Argiropilum,Olegatur ratiotinatio, Tunc exemplum dari poteft pro primo
modo, quando non per immediata fiat inductio, ut prima pars xxxij. primi
Elementorum probatur per uigefimamnonam primi elementorum, & non per immes
diata principia, fic ut fenfus fit, quod illa que probantur per alias pro
poſitiones probatas prius, talia quidem probatione quia probataſint illa uero
queprobanturper immediata principia propter quid demonftrens POSTERIORVM ARIST.
zmo citer fiat maus prio DOM -cpon cofuit bton uo ta cratio extus iuers mes:
FUS IN • prie quo, dem philo atio ogil uer tur, ut eſt queſitum primi, ſecundi,
atque tertij problematum primi Elea mentorum,que quæfita per immediata
principia demonſtrantur, facta prius deſcriptione, ut conuenit, neque dicendum
est, ut quidam exiſtie mant,quod eafit propter quid,quando
perimmediataspropoſitionesfiat deductio imediationem illam tribuentes adſitum
propoſitionū ut fecundit pars xxvIII. per primam partem illius, oprima pars
uigeſimeoctaua per uigefimumfeptimam primi Elementorum,fed hoc loco, non imme
diata accipit Ariſtoteles, omnes propoſitiones probatas,uel etiam, quæ per
prima probare poſſunt, cum demonftratio fiant ex primis, & im mediatis,
oppungat,ut immediatafint, o non fint primaabſolute. Et in Geometria etiam alio
modo quia eſt, differt à propter quit, ut quando ab effeétu ad caufam
progreffus fit, neinpe quando per æqualitatem an = gulorum concluditur
equalitas laterum,ut fexta primi Elementorum Eu. clidis proponit.Propter quid
autem eſt,quádo à caufa ad effectum proces ditur, utputa quando ab equalitate
laterum trianguli infertur æqualitas angulorum illa latera reſpicientium, ut
prima pars quintæ elementorum Euclidis proponit. Atio autemmodo per immediata
quidem non auteng percauſam, ſed per notius eorum que conuertuntur, ut lucidum
non ſcintillare,o prope eſſe, fimiliter, creſcere per rotunda incrementa luz.
cida, ceſſe rotundum æqualiter defe inuicem prædicant,notius tamen eft, non
ſcintillare, quàm prope effe, ¬ius eſt creſcere per increa menta lucida
rotunda, quàm eſſe rotundum, & primum eft per fenfum per induétionem in
fingulisplanetis notummagis, non tamen caufa eft quare planetæ prope ſint, fed
econtrario.Secundum etiam, ut quod incremento creſcere,non eſt caufa
rotunditatis, licetfit notumfolummo do per ſenſum, non autem per inductionem à
pluribus determinatis ſie mul exiftentibus, quia hoc tantum de unico incremento
creſcente certi fumus, *cum per ipfa, fiunt inductiones, quòd planeta
propefint, aut quod Luna rotundit ſit, talis utriuſque inductio eſt quid, quod
fi ccontra riofieret, tunc propter quid, anon quia, erit demonſtratio, ifti
igitur duo modi à fe diuerſi ſunt, eo quod primus, per priora quidem, non tas
men immediata procedit. Alius autem per immediata non tamen per priora, fed ea
quæeſt propter quid colligit utraque, & quod ex prio ribus fit, atque ex
immediatis. Amplius quare planetæ, haud fcina tillare uideantur fuſius ſuper
problemateultimo quintadecimæfectio nis problematum Ariſtotelis fiet per me
declaratio, quæ etiam faciet fatis huic textui, eft tamen hoc loco aduertendum
Ioannem dicere fira MON mal, het, pw atur non ros illa IN PRIMVM LIB.
tillationem prouenire, quod protendentes uifus ufque ad aſtra fixa de biliores
fiunt, quaſi quòd uiſio fieret per extramißionem radiorum, ut Thimeo
&Empedocli placituin erat, quos Ariſtoteles reprehendit capi te ſexto De
Senſu &ſenſili. In hac igitur parte reiciendus est Philopo nus, niſi
exemplo loquatur famoſo. Alterum De rotunditate Lune fus per problemate oftauo
eiufdem feftionis aperietur, ubi querit Ariftote les unde eſt, quòd Luna
uideatur plana, cum fit rotunda. TEXTVS LXV. ALIAS X XX. MPLIVS in quibus
inedium extraponitur etenim in his nó propter quidſed ipfius, quia demonſtratio
eft, non enim dicitur caufa, ut propter quid non reſpirat paries, quia eſt ani
mał. Tertium modum quo quia in eadem ſcientia à propter quid differt, nunc
affert Ariſtoteles inquiens amplius eft, que quando neque cauſa probat 1,ut
primus modus effe&tum infert, neque est,quando ex effectu caufa infertur,
fed quando ex nega: tione pene cauſe infertur ipſius effe &tus negatio, feu
etiam econuerfo, ut quia non funt parallele, ideo alterni anguli non funt
æquales, opdo ri modo, quia extrinfecus angulus non eft æqualis intrinſeco'ex
eadem parte, igitur parallele non funt; oeſt hic modus tertius, quo quia à
propterquid differt in eadem ſcientia, dixi quando ex negationepene caufe, oc.
Quia parallelas effe,non eft caufa ut alterni anguli ſintæqua les,nifi fuper
ill. linea recta ceciderit, que propinqua caufa eft, quod al terni anguli
fintæquales,ficut animal quidem longinqua caufa eft refpira di, propinqua eſt
pulmo, totalis autem eſt animalhabemus pi Imonem me dium enim ad probandă
affeétionem in perſpectiut accipitur extra perſpe fiuã, utputa in Geometria
& Mechanica ad Stereometriam.ld no tißimum erit pariter v iocundum, fi id
quod ait Ariſtoteles in ques ſtionibus mechanicis questione x l'intelligatur,onera
qua mouentur ſua per ſcytalas facilius mouentur, quam fi ſuper plauftra
mouerentur,ultrd rationes illas Phiſicas quas ibi Ariſtoteles adducit, etiam
ratio propter quidſummitur ex primoſtereometrie Euclidis deffinitione decimao
taud uel undecima ex Theonis littera, Q * tertio Elementorum deffinitione fez
cunda, minus enim offenfant ſeytale, quam plauſtrorum rote, quia ana gulus
fcytalarum longe maior eft, quàmfit angulus rotarum plauftrorit ut angulus
POSTERIORVM ARIST. 1 unt 41 utangulus rota a fe, uel etiam a fd longe minor eft
quàm angulus fcytale af c, & ideo minus ad planum af b offenſat ſcytala
quam rota,quidfcytals,que in uſu noſtro tempore eſt, in questionibus mechaa
nicis declarabo, pro nuncfcito illas eſſe ftangulas,quibus utuntur lapi cide in
trahendis magnis lapidibus, f & Harmonica ad Aritmetica a -6 Tonum in duo
equalia diuidiſemito nia minime poteſt,quod muſicus dea terminat, ut Boetius re&te
fentit lis bro tertio capite primo muſices, le quicquid Pfelus Greculus ſentiat,
fedfecaturin apothomen eſemi tonium minus, huius autem propter quid ratio, ab
Arithmetico reddia tur, quiafuperparticularis propor tio non poteſt diuidi in
duo equalia, ut Boetius in Arithmeticis docet. Tonus autem cum in ſeſquioctaua
ſonorum proportione conſiſtat in duo equalia ſemitonia diuidi haud quaquam
poteft. & Apparentia ad Aſtronomiam. Apparentia, ipfa eft phenomena de qua
Euclides, e Aratus poeta agunt, atque VergiliusAgricolas docens tempus quo mila
lium feminaredebent, ait in Georgicis loquens de occafu hellaco, Candi dus
auratis aperit cum cornubus annum Taurus, oaduerfo cedens cda nis occidit
aſtro,rationemſiqnis agricola deſideret, cur eo tempore cda nis, qui et Alabor
dicitur, occidat beliace,id totum ab aſtronomo petat, qui rationem propter quid
redet; Sol enim in orbe eccentrico à propria intelligentisex occidente in
orientem motus, quicquid fomnietAlpetra gius Fracaſtorius, &
fequaces,accedit annud orbita ad illud fydus, quod eft in geminis &fuo
maximofplendore, non finit illud uideri, id autë fit cum Sol diſcurrës
perſignum Tauri, attingit extremam partem Tauri, tunc enim canis perdit lumen
ſuum, non uidetur amplius, propter So lis ad ipſumſydus uiciniam, quouſque
iterum per motum eccentrici ab co fydere ellongetur Sol, quod iterum oriri
heliace incipit; hi ſunt igitur modi quatuor, quibuspropter quid, à quia
differt, tres quidem funt in eadem ſcientia fubalternante,oquartus, quando id
quoddemon ſtrandum eft inſcientia media,per ea quæ in ſubalternante ſcientia
nota funt, probatur, in quo quarto modo, funt plures demonſtratiomisgraa dus
fpeculandi, quos quia Ariſtoteles non tangit,præterco. L Me hen 1 1 IN PRIMVM
LIB. -7. Sunt autem hæc quæcunque alterum quiddam exiſten tia ſecundum
fubftantiam, utuntur fpeciebils, Mathenati cæ enim ſecundum fpeciein funt, non
enim de ſubiecto alia quo,fi cnim & de fubiecto aliquo Geometrica funt, ſed
no quatenus Geometrica,de fubiecto funt. In præcedenti particu la huius textus
dixit de ſcientia quia, quód fenfibilium eft, inquiens,Hic enim, ipſum quia
ſenſibilă eft fcire, de fcicntia uero propter quid,quòd uniuerfalium ejt, per
caufas habetur,ait,propter quid autem mathemde ticorum, hi enim habent
caufaruin demor.ſtrationes, ofrequenter neſci unt ipſum quia, ficut illi
uniuerſale conſiderantes, fepe quædam ſingula rium neſciunt propter id, quod
non intendunt; Ecce quantimathematis cos ficiat philofophus, dicens eos
noningnaros illorum, que uulgus tra Etat, fed Socratico more, ea non intendere
quæfumuno ſtudio, amplectun tur uulzures, Differentia igitur ipſius,quiu à
propter quid,adhuc magis explicans,ait, funt autě ip / e quidemfcientiæ, quia
quecunq;,utuntur ſpe ciebus (fenfibilibusuidelicet, alterã quiddam fecundum
fubjtantiam pecu lantes, alterum quiddam non folum fecundum ſubſtantium,fed
etiamaltes xum quiddamn in exiſtentia,hoc eft in ſubiecto materiali exiſtens,
Mathem matice enim, nempe quæ propter quid fient, circa fpccies ſunt, dubita.
tur hocloco, cum ſcientia quia utatur fpeciebus, o ſciétia propter quid circa
ſpeciesſit, quo nam puto, in quia, & quo modo in propter quid fpecies
intelligatur. Dico, quod quia ſenſibilium eſt, ut ait Ariſtoteles, utitur, quia
ſpeciebusſenſibilibus,quarum beneficio fenfus ſenſata perci piunt, fed
propterquid,utiturfpeciebus abftractis àſubiecto materiali, ut ſuperficie,
linea, puncto, &ſimilibus, quatenus affectiones aliquas de ipſis inipſis
cognoſcit demonſtrator,non tamē circa hæc uerſatur Geo metra quatenus in
ſubiecto funt,ſed preciſius abſtractione, ea conſides rat, fi talia nufquam,
ſine fubiecto ſint. Habet autem fead perſpectiuam, ficut hæc ad Geome triam,
& alia ad iftam, ut id quod de, iride eft. Traslatio Ar giropoli in hac,
precedenti particula facilior,atque candidior eft, quàmfit textus Philoponi, ne
uidear tamen in precedenti particula, e hac preſenti, litteram ſequi, quam
pedagogio neoterici non doctores, ut fe præferunt, fæpe encruat; loannis textum
in utraque particula ex pono, quo etiam plura uirtute continentur quam,
contineat textus, Are giropoli tum etiam, quia accedit ad hæc Procli
interpretatio, ut teftatur loannes, ſcientiasigitur quas in præfenti Ariſtoteles
cõmemorat,fub ale POSTERIORVM ARIST. terno quodã ordine pofitæ funt;primo
Geometria,cui imediate perſpecti ua,perfpe & iue autē ſpecularia &huic
ſpecularie, ea ſcientia, quæ eft de Iride in qua, quæponuntur,perfpecularia
probantur&, quæ in peculi ria, per ea quæ in perſpectiua funt
notamanifeſtantur, qu: autê in pera fpectiua, per ea quæin Geometrianoșa,
fuerunt, ut quòd iris ſit tricos lor,oquòdnunquamplures duabus Iridibus
appareant; et quòd denigs Rõ fit nidor femicirculo, per fcientias ſuperiores,
hee omnia probatur. Multæ autein & non fubalternarum, ſcienriarun fe has
bent fic, ut medicina ad Geometriam, q eniin uulnera, cir cularia tardius
fanentur medici eft fcire quia, propter quid autein Geometræ. Parum ſupra in
anteprecedenti particula dixit philofophus,qu& namfcientiæ effentfere
uniuoce inquiens, fere autem uniuocefunt hurumſcientiarī alique,ut aſtrologia '
et mathematicaet na ualis, o harinonica quae mathematica, oque fecundum auditum,
in hac autem particuladeterminat de his fcientijs que nullo modouniuoce funt.
ut Geometria os medicina que etiam fubalternate non funt, he enim due non
ſubalternantur inter ſe, quia ſubiectum Geometrie eſt, id quod circa planum
uerfatur, medicine uero ſubiectum eſt corpus jarabi le,id, eft, quod proponit;
ut quod in alterafcientia proponitur,probatur per ea,quæ in alia fciētia nota
funt; non tamen hæ fevětiæ funt uniuoce, neque fubalternatæ,ut in chierurgia,que
pars eft medicina proponitür uulnusrotundum, difficultate fanari, ut
canumexcoriatoresteftantur. Geometria autem nobilis fcientia reddi propter quid,
primo Elemento * rum deffinitione decimaquinta, quia exomni parte æqualiter
diftat cas o, ficut ibi acentro ipfa circunferentia. ly tie 20 SMS TEXT VS L
XVII ALIAS X X X. 170 ot cs, tro autem modo, differt ipſum propter quid ab ipfo
quia, quodelt, peralia fciené Stianu nrruinqué, ſpeciilari, Huiuſmodi au Matem
funt, quæcunque fic fehabent, utals terum fub altero fit, ut perſpectina ad Geo
metriani. vbi ait, per aliam ſcientiam fic intellis gatur per altam magis
uniuerfalem et fubalternantem in aliam minus univerfalem. Vtrunquefpeculari,
utrunque dixit refferens &propter. quid, quia, alia enim fcientia
fpeculatur propter quid, c alia fpecus Ljj 84 IN PRIMVM LIB. 1.3 latur ipſum
quia, ut Geometria proprer quid, perfpeétiuauero, quia, inquitenim Ariſtoteles.
Hæ enimipſum quia, fenfibiliumest fcire, prom pter quid autem mathematicorum.
Verbi gratia,oculus exiſtens in a uidens cd, uidet ipfam quantitatens minorem,
quamſi idein oculus fiat in b, quia inquit perfpe&tiuus,uide tur ca
ſubmaiori angulo ab oculo exiſtente in b, quam ab eodem oculo in a
exiſtente,& quód angulus dbc ſit maior da c, Geometra id demon ſtrat primo
Element propoſitione xxi. Dubitatur circa hoc, quod di cebatur de mente Ariſtotelis
in dia & o exemplo perſpectiuo, quodne que percurrendum eſt ſicco pede,ut
indoctifaciunt no intelligétes bonas artes, quicum ad Mathematica ex empla
accedunt,pedem referunt,dia centes non eſſe uim ponëdum in illis. Ego autem
econtrario dico, totum neruiim rei, eſſe in exempli intelles ione, ubi ait,
quod perſpectiuus oftendit maius uideri id, quod de prope eft, demonftratione
quia, o Geometra, idein propter quid, demonſtrat in vigeſimaprima primi Ele
mentorum, qua uigefimaprimaprimi Elemen.non propter quid demon ſtratur, fed
demonſtratione quia, ut demonftratio quia diſtinguitur, a propter quid primo
modo, ficut textu 64. declaratumfuit, quòd illa des monftratio, quæ per mediata
a probatas propoſitiones procedit, eft demonftratio quia, diftinguiturab illa
ineadem ſcientia, quæ proces dit per immediata principia,quæ demonftratio
propter quid dicitur,mo do ex fexagefimoquarto textu,determinatur quòd
demonftratio uig eſi miprima primi Elementorum eſt, quia, hoc autem exemplo
perſpectis uo dicit, quod eft propter quid, contradictio igitur manifeſta
uidetur. Dico de mente Ariſtotelis hoc loco,&eft etiam loannis Grammatici
ins tentio fuper textu fexagefimoquarto,dicentis. Quodammodo autem in
precedéribus dicebamusquod ipſum quia eſt primomado,permediata mo firare, cum
fecundo modo ipſumquia per immediata,ſimiliter w propter quid, unde aduertendum,
quod demonftratio, quæfit fuper uigeſimam primam primi Elementorum,que per
uigefimam decimāfextam primi elementorum procedit, fi ad demonſtrationem prime
propoſitionis Elc. POSTERIORVM ARIST. es mentorum, quæ per immediataprincipia
procedit comparetur demon Atratio quia, merito dicitur, ſi mero comparetur
adperſpectiuam demone ftrationein, tunc propter quid dicetur, quia perſpectiuus
pier eam pros bat intentum, u ſictricic apparentis argumenti explicite funt,fc
cundum philofophiſcitum. TEX. LXVIII. ALIAS XXXI. IGVR A R v M autem faciens
ſcire maxime pri ma eſt, etenim Mathematicæ fcientiarum per hanc
demonſtrationes ferunt, ut Arith metica, & Geometria, & perſpectiua,
& fes re (ut eſt dicere) quæcunque,quæ ipfius pro pter quid faciunt
conſiderationem,aut enim omnino,aut licut frequentius, & in plurimisper
hanc fi guram (quieſt propter quid fyllogifmus) fit, Textus hic uis detur
edirecto contra expoſitionem nouam factam permeſuper iỹ. tex tu de inductione
illa Geometrica, que tanquam fictitium quoddam, uanißimum, &nullo Greco
& Latinoexpoſitore do&tißimoexcogitatū, inquit enim Ariſtoteles, etenim
Mathematicæ ſcientiarum, per banc primam figuram demonſtrationes ferunt, non
igitur Mathematic & fea runt demonftrationes per illam Geometricam
inductionē, utibifuit des terminatum. Inftantia hæc,eft hominisuaniloqui,qui ea
profert& fcri bit; quæ nonfunt notæ earum, quæin anima paßionumſunt, cum
non folumanimamtanquàm abraſam tabellam habeant, fed potius tanquam
ficcamcucurbitain, in qua nonniſi uentus reperitur, quia tamen nonfo lummodo
fapientuin habenda eft ratio, stultis etians atque infipientibus pariter
reſpondendum effearbitror, ne in fua ignorantia glorientur ua ne. In hoc textu
Ariſtoteles nil aliud determinat, niſi quod preſtantior est prima, quàm fecunda
& tertis figuræ,&quód Mathematica hac fepe utuntur, &hoc quidem
quandofyllogiſtica arguunt, ut ait in tex. dicens, oin plurimis per hancfiguram,
que eſt propter quidfyllogif mus fit, modo quid refert, ſi Geometra, utatur
fyllogifmo, non nece ibi in tertio textu fuit declaratum, quo modofyllogiſmo
utitur Geomes tra, &quomodo inductione Geometrica?fimodo quis ex hoc textu
uca lit inferre, quod illa indu&tio Geometrica non detur, ipfe faciet
mendas cem Ariftotelem, dicentem in tertio textu, quòd nedum fyllogifmo fed 70
IN PRIMVM LIB., oinduétione, ſcitur quòd triangulus in femicir culo
conftitutus, habeus tres angulos æquales duobus reitis. TEX. LXXXVII. ALIAS
XXXVI. EMONSTRATTO enim eft ex his, quæcun queipſa quidem inſunt, fecundum
ſeipſa rebus, ſecundum feipſa uero, dupliciter, quæcunque enim in illis infunt
in co quòd quid eft, & in quibus, ipſa in eo quodqınd eft inſunt ipſis, ut
in numero, impar, quod ncit quidem numero, eft autem ipfe numerus in ratione
ipfius, & iteruụn multitudo,aut diuiſibile in ratione nua meri, horum autem
neutrum contingit infinita eſſe,nec ut impar numeri, Secundum fe ipſum
bipartitur, ut quando prie mum deffinitio de deffinito predicatur. uel etiam
quädo deffinitum de def finitione, ut numerus est multitudo ex unitatibus
aggreguta, ut Euclia des ait fecundadeffinitione ſeptimi Elementori,et etiam
multitudo ex unii tatibus agregata numerus est: impar nuſquà inuenitur in
deffinitione nu meriupud Arithmeticū, neq; etiä numerusin deffinitione paris,
quid igi tur uelit Arift. hoc exemplo noſatis à Græcis etLatinis explicatum
est, puto tamen egoquod ficut in deffinitionibus, quædum fecüdum quod ipfa
inueniuntur,pariter etiam id in diuiſione fit, ut fi quippiam, nume rus eſt, id
quidem impar uel par statim eſſe dignoſcitur,oſi quid ims par uel parfit illud
tale numerumeffe patet, ſic ut exempluinprimum Ariſtotelis, ſit circa
diuiſionem, fecundum exemplum de deffinitios ne, quia tamen addit, aut
diuiſibile in rationenumeri, nullibi apud Eus clidem reperitur quod diuſibile
in numeri ratione ponatur, quatenus nu merus eſt, fed in deffinitione numeri
paris; recteponitur, ut diuidatur in æqualia, ut primadeffinitione noni
Elementorum manifeſtum eſt, par numerus eft, qui in duo æqualia poteſt diuidi,
& quicquid in duo equa lia diuiditur, id numerus effe patet, fiueboc de
numero, quo numerisa mus, feude numero numerato, hoc intellexeris,
ueritatemhabet. Meto dumdiuifiuam, in his exemplis ſeruauit Ariſtot. primo enim
in diuiſione ſubinde in deffinitione,et tertio loco infpecie contenta, fub
deffinito ufus eft exemplo,Numeriigitur primadiuiſio eſt in imparem atqueparem;
ut Boetius docet capite tertioprimi Arithmetica, definitio estſecunda septimi
Elementorum, deffinitio autem paris; patet ex prima definitione noni
Elementorum. Horum autem omnium nullum contingit infinita eſſe, numerus enim in
imparem atque parem, impar in primum, compoſia tum, compoſitum in quadratun, o
non quadratum, igitur quadratus compoſitus impar numerus eft, onumerus, eſt
impar compoſitus qua dratus, feu numerus eft impar prinus, er prinus, impar
numerus eft, ſicuti status eſt innumero,ut tandem ſit ultima particulaque à par
te fubieéti ponatur, ſiiniliter ſtatus erit in alijs particulis, que ponun tur
à parte predicati, quando ipfe numerus àparte ſubiecti pofitus erit neque
igitur inſurlum,ncque igitur in deorſum infinita pre dicantia contingit eſſe in
demonſtratinis fcientís, de quiz bus intentio eft, in furfum ait deffinitionem
refpicientes, neque in deorfum diuiſionein feu partitionem animaduertit. d ac
38 mi TEX. LXXXVIII ALIAS XXXVII. for ONSTRATJslautem his, &e. Non te prea
terit, quòd habere tres duobus reétis equales conie nito Joſcelio Scalenoni,
neutri tamen per alte, rumconuenit,fed utriqueperhoc, quodfigurarea Eilinea
trilatera eft, idfæpe fuit in precedentie bus declaratum exfecunda parte
trigeſimeſecunda primi Elementorum.. other VA 16. TEXTVS.XCI. ALIAS XXXVIII. M
ST autem inuin cuin iinmediatun fiat & una propoſitio ſinplex eft immediata
& queinadınodum in alís eſt principium fimplex, hocautem non idem
ubiqueeſt, fed in graui quidem untia, in melodia,alle tem diefis, aliud autein
in alio, fic eft in fyllogitno unum, propofitio immediata, Secundum antiquos
rumfcitum, ut Campanus refert ſuper oriaus xiiij. Elementorum
unumquodqueintegrum in xij.partes æquales per rationen og intelle Etum
diuiferunt, ipſum totuin fic diuifum in partes illas, aſſem uoc4 = werunt,
undecim earum dixerunt deuncem, decem dextantem, nchem IN PRIM V M. LIB:
dodrantem, o &to beſſem, feptem ſeptuncem, fex uero partes femiffen,
quinque quincuncem, quatuor trientem, tres quadrantem, duas ſexa tantem, unam
autem appellauerunt unciam, quam unciam in minorafra gmenta nonfecat
philoſophus, quia eft ultimum fragmentum integri à quofuum initium fumit ipfum
integrum, tanquàm ab immediato prins cipio,ex quo,fumiturfimile, quod in
fyllogifmo etiam est ipſa immediata propoſitio, ultra quam nonfit refolutio in
terminos,ſicut etiam ultra un ciam non fecit conſiderationem in
minoresminutias, licet hoc fieripoßit, ficut propoſitio in terminos etiam
quandoquidem refolui poterit. In melodia autem dieſis, Non eſt pretereundum
filentio id,quod hoc loco Ariſtoteles tangit, id autem eſt, quod qui Logicam
ipſiusprofi tetur quiſquis fit ille,omnibus diſciplinis Mathematicis debetin
primis fſe inſtitutus,aliter enim euenietei, ut in adagio dicitur, operam fimul
ooleum perdet, quid per dieſim intelligat, notum erit fitonum ſimpli cem,
interuallum integrum, nondum ad armoniam pertingens diuidi in duas equus partes
eſe impoßibile quis prius perceperit, ut etiam in tex. Lix. prædemonftratum eft,
duas tamen in partes inæquales diuidi, quarum altera maior eft, quæ apothomen,
ſeu ſemitonium mas ius, reliqua uero eft minor, quæ minusfemitonium nuncupatur,
oip fum minus femitonium in duas partes æquales diuiditur, quartum utras que
dieſis appellatur à uetuftioribus muſicis, ut Boetio atque Nicomas co primo
libro Muſicæ,capite xxi. placet,idprincipium toni eft, quid minimum. Practici
uero Muſici dieſim uocant inciſionem duarum linearumfuper alias duas ſic *quam
incifionem fignant ipfi practici Cantores, ſuper eam notam, ſub quain deſenſus
toni, faciunt defen fum ſemitonij, ſed id cantoribus relinquatur, prima dieſis
acception Ariſtotelis ſententiam explicat, quia dieſis in illa acceptione, eft
minia mum conſideratum à mufico, fiue id, quodminimum eſt in concinentia
conſideratum, ſicut uncia in ponderibus oimmediata propofitio in de
monſtrutione fyllogiſtica, o boc intelligas de minutijs integri, non de
minutiaruin minutijs, de quibus phylolaus apud Boetium libro tera tio capite
octauo agit,quiabec ad Ariſtotelisfententiam non faciunt pretermito. MAGIS tur
POSTERIOR VM ARIST. 89 TEXTVS XCII. ALIAS XXXIX. AGIs autein ſeiinus
unumquodque, ciim ipfum cognoſcimus ſecundun ipſum, quam fecundum
aliud,utmuficun Coriſcum,quá do Coriſcus muſicus eſt, quàm quod homo muſicus
fit, Hoc loco tentat Ariſtoteles elencho ar gumento probarequod particularis
demonſtratio ſit uniuerfali potior. Quis nam fit muſicus aperit Nicomacus atque
Boes tius primo libro muſices capite xxx111. ille quidem eft, quinon ex eo quod
manu cytheram pulfat, fed ille qui rationis imperio cantillenas rum distonice,
cromatice,atque enarmonice ratum, atque firmum ſta tum agnoſcit diiudicat,
atque imperat, qua re intellectu,quærit Ariſto teles,num illa demonftratio, qua
Coriſcus muſicus, an illa, qua homo mu ſicus co:rcluditur, quod eft, an
particularis, uel ipſa uniuerfalis fit pos tior, Cui rationi reſpondendum; ut
Ariſtoteles innuit per interemptios nem, negando quodCoriſcusſit muficus per fe,
fiue quòd ifta cognofca tur per fe, Coriſcus eft muſicus. BI 74 1 142 ca TEXTVS
XCIII. ici ha 10% OTior autem eſt, quæ eſt de eſſe quain de non eſſe, &
propter quam non errabi tur quàin proptcr quam crrabitur eſt au tem uniuerſalis
huiuſmodi, procedentes enim demonſtrant uniuerſale, quemadmo dum de eo quod eſt
proportionale,ut quo = niam quod utique fit talc,erit proportionale, quod ncque
linea; neque numerus, ncque ſolidum, neque planum eft, fed præter hæc aliquid.
illud idem totum quod text. xx v di& um fuit, hoc loco repetatur, ubi
Ariſtoteles text. xx v dixit hæc uer ba, nunc uniuerſalemonſtratur,hoc textu,
magis aperit dicens, proces dentes enim demonſtrant uniuerfale, quod neque
lined, &cæt. fed pre ter hæc aliquid, quod quidem eſtipſum quantum,
quatenus quátum eft, quod uniuocum eft omnibus quantis, neque illudeſſe tale
immagineris, quod oquanto &quali communefit,ut immaginabatur,lo4nnes gram M
IN PRIMVM LIB. maticus afequaces, quia illud,analogum eſſet, quod à
propoſitoſecludit Ariſtotelesnonagefimo quinto textu reſpondens ad fecundam
difficulta tem. TEXTVS XCIIII. S IGIT VR triangulus in plus eft, & ratio
eadem, & non fecundum æquiuocationem, conuenit triangulo & Iſoſceli,
& ineſt oinni triangulo duobus rectis æquales,non utique triangulus ſecundum
quod eſt Iſoſceles, led Iſoſceles ſecundum quod eft triangulus,ha bet huiufmodi
angulos. Concludit Ariſtoteles hoc textu uniuers falem demonſtrationem
particulari demonſtratione potiorem eſſe, o eft quando per rationem uniuocam
concluditur affectio de ipſo uniuerfali, eper eandem uniuocam rationem
concluditur eademet affeétio de par. ticulari aliquo, ut habere tres
æqualesduobus reétis, probatur infecun da parte x x x 11primi Elementorum de
triangulo primo, deinde de iſopleuro, ſoſcele, oScalenone non primo, fed
quatenus trianguli ſunt, &hoc idem de illis concluditur perfyllogifmum, uel
etiam per ean dem induétionem trigeſimæ ſecñde primiElementorum Eft in hoc
textu non minima conſideratione dignum, quod etiam non eft prætereundura
immobili calamo, Ratio enimtrianguli uniuoca eſt, quia o nomine for rede
uniuerfali triangulo ode particulari Ifofcele prædicatur, utpuu tafigura,quæ
tribus reétis lineis clauditur, non tamen per ipfam ratios nem, cõcluditur de
Trigono uel iſoſcele habere tres duobus reftis equa les, ſed per primam partem
trigeſimæ ſecunda, eper uigeſimā nonam Otertiä decimă primiElementorum,
quapropter non uidetur quod exemplumſit ad propoſitum regulæ Ariſtotelis,de
ratione uniuoca,Di cendum, quod naturaexemplieſt, ut non conueniat. Cum re in
omni mor do,quia tunc non eſſet exemplü rei, ſed eſſet res ipſa.Dico fecundo
quod memoria eſt dignum cum præfertimà nullo fit hucuſque perpéfum,quod nulla
demonftratio mathematica eſt potißima, & ob idmathematicæ nul leſunt
ſciētie ſiſtetur in doétrina Aristotelisratio,quia in nulla conclu ditur aliqua
affectio deſubie &to per deffinitionem fubie &ti,quod tamen uo lunt
uirigraues de mente Scoti, neque etiam per deffinitionem paßionis ut alij
determinant de mente Thomæ, Modo dicas,quod quando per cane dem deffinitionem,fiue
uniuocam rationem, demonſtratur affectio aliqua POSTERIORVM ARIST. ineſſeſubie
o uniuerſali, &eadem ineſſeparticulari per eandem deffini tionem, quòd de
uniuerſali, immediate & per fe,de particulari autem non immediate, neque
per ſe, ſed per uniuerſale concluditur, ideo uniuer. falis ipſa particulari
demonſtratione potior, atque præftantior est, ut fi per rationale mortale,
concludatur de homine riſibilitas, &deinde per id, de Socrate, quod fit
riſibilis, illa in qua de homine, quàm illa in qua de Socrate demonftratio, eft
potior, ſicuti de triangulo uerbigratia,in fecunda parte trigeſime ſecunde
primi Elementorum, &etiam de 1foſce le, probatur habere tresæquales duobus
reftis, illa tamen inductio,que probat de triangu o potioreſt illa industione,
quæ de iſoſcele idem cons cludit, quia primo de triangulo uniuerſali, ſubinde
de particulari trian. gulo concluditur, hoc pacto Ariſtotelis regula o exemplum
intel ligendafunt. TEXTVS XCVII. fed 72 th po 1 MPLIvs uſque ad hoc quæriinus
propter quid, & tunc opinamur ſcire, cum non fit aliquid aliud propter quid
fciamus, quàm hoc, aut quòd fiat, aut quòd fit, & cetera uſque ibi, Cum
igitur cognoſcamus quidē, quod quiſunt extra æquales funt quatuor ſcétis,
quoniam æquitibiarum,adhuc decft propter quid, quia triangulus, & hoc, quia
eft figura rectilinea, ſi aus. tem hoc, non amplius propter quid aliud, tum
maxi mc ſcimus & uniuerſale, tunc uniuerſalis itaque eft. Hoc tex tu
Ariſtoteles determinatquòd, tunc arbitramurſcire cum ufque ad ul timas cauſas
procedit nofter reſolutiuus diſcurſus, ait enim cum igitur cognoſcamus quidem
quod, hi, quiſunt extra æquales ſunt quatuor rea &tis, o redit rationem,
quoniam equitibiarum, ſed quia æquitibic figu ræ funt etiam quadrilatere,
pentágone, adiecit proximiorem cau Jam dicens, quia triangulus, quia tamen
trianguli diuerfa funt latera,ut curua, conuexa, conuexa o curua, curua Qrecta,conuexa
a recta,ut omnia hæc excludat ait, qui eſt figura re{ tilinea, que cauſa magis
udhuc proxima eft, quæ quidem ultima& propinqua cauſa, cumfucrit inuens
taoaßignuta, non amplius propter quid aliud querimus, pq tunc mas xime fcimus,
uniuerſale, o cæt. Quantum autem ad id, quod exem = plo, Ariſtoteles ait,
paucis explicetur in fubie&ta figura a bc, cuius 1 1 Mij IN PRIM VM LIB.
mnes extrinfecos angulos, quatuor reétis æquales effe dico, protrahan tur enim
omnis latera a b, br, ca, uſque add, e, f, eritqüe per tertiã decimam primi
elementorum duo anguliad c, pofiti æquales duobusrex & is, eadem ratione
duoilli ad a, o reliqui duo ad b ſimiliter equales duobus re& tis, itaque
omnes fex intrinfeci uidelicet,o extrinfeci,ſunt æquales ſex reftis, fed per
fecundam partem trigefimæ fecunde prie mi Elementorum, tres intrinfecifunt
æquales duobus re&tis, igitur tres reliqui extrinſeciſunt quatuor reftis
equales,quod demonſtrandū erat. Non enim omnis triangulus uni uerfaliter
fumptus, hahet tres an gulos duobus reétis equales, ſed ali quis habet duos
angulos rectos, tertium acută, et quidam triangulus eft qui habet tres angulos
rectos, ut Ptholameus cap. x. ſecüda dictionis magnæ cõſtructionis theoremate
pri G mo, e ſequentibus manifestum faa cit, neque tamen id cötrariatùr pro
poſitioni xyli primi elementorum, Euclidis ut quod duo anguli cuiusli bet
trianguli fint minores duobus rectis, nec etiam eſt contra fecundam partem xxxl
primi Elemen. Euclidis, quòd uidelicet omnis triangulos, habet tres duobus
reftis æquales, ratio, quòdnulla inter hos fapientißia mosſit contradictio,
eſt, quia de rectilineis Euclides, de fphelaribus ues ro Ptholameus &
curuilineis triangulis agit, quod aduertens Ariftotea les adiecit, quia est
figura rectilinea; ut fit abſolutus fenfus, quod equis tibia figura trilatera
rectilinea, habet extrinſecos angulos quatuor ree Stis equales. TEXTV S CI. I
MPLIV's autein & fic, uniuerſale enim ina. gis demonſtrare eft, co quòd
eſtper medium demonſtrare, cuin propius fit principio, pro xime autem
immediatum eſt, hoc autem eft principium;fi igitur quæ ex principio eſt, ea quæ
non eft cx principio, quæ magis ex prin POSTERIORVM ARIST. cipio, ea quæ minus
eft, certior eft demonſtratio. Hoc textu Ariſtoteles apponit extremammanum
determinans,quòd uniuerfalis ſit particulari demonfiratione dignior, in quo
quædamnon conſiderata à grecis,neque à latinis., difta tamen ohic ab Ariſtotele
tertio tex tu, ibi, quorundam enim hoc modo diſciplina eſt, onon permedium ube
timum cognoſcitur, ut quæcunque iam fingularia eſſe contingit, nec de fubiecto
quopiam, ubi aduertit quod quidammodus est, quo fciuntur af fertiones
deſingularibus, onon per medium,modus etiam est quo affea &tiones fciuntur
de particularibus per medium, fed non primo de eis, ut declaraui in textů
tertio 'nonageſimoquarto huius, affectiones uero que de uniuerſali
cognofcuntur, he quidem per medium cognoſcuntur, hac de caufa uniuerfalis
demonſtratio, eſt ipſa particulari potior, quia particularis non per medium,
uniuerfalis uero per medium demonftrat, ut ait, uniuerſale enim magis
demonſtrare est,eo quod eft per medium de monstrare,id autem Geometrico
exemplo-manifeſtat dicens,quod ſi quis cognouit, quia omnis triangulus
habettresduobus rectis æqualesfciuit, quodammodo, & quod ifcoſceles duobus
reftis tres pares habet,utputa potentiafcit, quia uniuerfale fciens aetu,
potentia etiam fcit. ea, quæfub. ipfo continentur, &ſi non cognouerit
1fofcelem quòd actu,oper aper tionemmanus (ut Philoponus tertio textu ofequaces
interpretabane tur) triangulus ſit, hanc habens propoſitionem,hæcparticula
legenda eft, cum particula aduerfatiua fic,hanc autem habens propoſitionem,
nempefciens tantum potentia quod Ifoſceles habet tres duobus rectis pa rés,
uniuerſale nullo modo cognouit, ut quòd triãgulushabeat tres equa les duobus
rectis, neque potentia, neque actu, non quidem potentia, quia Iſoſceles non eſt
uniuerfale ad triangulum,uniuerſale enim potentia ſua inferiora continet.
Accedit ad hoc etiã, quia ſi non fcitur uniuerſale atu, non ſcitur potentia
fuum particulare, fi igitur particulare non ſcie tur actu, ſed potentia tantī,quifieripoteft,ut
propter id,ſuū uniuerſale potentia fciatur? non etiam actu fcitur
uniuerfalepropterea,quòd fuum particularefcitur potentia, quia ex ſcibile
potētia, non inferturſcitum actu. Exhoc textuę precedentibus quibus determinat
Ariſtot.uniuerſa lem demonftrationem esſe potiorem demonftratione particulari
habetur de particularibus difciplinam eſſe, particularem eſſe demonſtratioa nem
quæcunquefit illa,aliter enim nulla effet comparatio Ariſtotelis in ter
uniuerfalem o particularem demonſtrationem. Preterea etiam nos tatu dignum
habetur, contra omnes interpretes, id autem eft, quod ali IN PRIMVM LIB.
quatenus ij. textu ta&tum fuit, ubi determinat quod de nouo quippians
ſcimus, introducit eos, qui tenentes quòd de nouo fciebamus interrogae bant
Platonicos tentantes oſtendere ipſis Platonicis, quod de nouo ſci mus inquiunt
enim, noftis ne quod omnis dualitas par ſit,nec ne? Vel etiam, quòd omnis
triangulus tres duobus re & tis æquales habeat, annuen tibus autem
Platonicis attulerunt dualitatem, uel triangulum manu aba fconfum dicentes,
ecce quomodo uos de nouoſcitis, hanc dualitatem eſſe parem, quia
priusneſciebatis hanc eſſe dualitatem Neotericies antiqui expoſitores inuoluunt
locum, ſic ut nedum ipſi intelligant, fed eshi qui cos audiunt ita faſcinentur,
ut nedum Ariſtotelem fed & feipfos pers dant. Dicunt enim ſine propoſito,
quod prius non poterantfcirede dua litate in manu abfconſa, ueltriangulo
conſtituto in tabula quod eſſet par, uel duobus rectis æquales haberet, quia
neſciebant illam eſſe dualitatem, vel illum effe triangulum, putant iſti
exponere Ariftotelis"doctrinam fic dicentes, anon aduertunt, quòd id
dicunt quod Ariſtoteles reprehens, dit, quod illi qui dicebant de nouo fcire,
male tamen perſuadentes per oſtenſionem ad fenfum, egr reſpondentes perperam,
dicebant fe nonſcia re eſſe purem, niſi quam dualitatem eſſe
ſciebant,apertißimehic Aristo. teles dicit, quòd qui ſcit omnem dualitatem eſſe
parem, uel quòd omnis triangulus tres duobus re &tis pares habet, fcit quòd
dualitas ſitpar, quod Ifofceles, tres duobus reftis æquales habet potentia,
licet neſciat a &tu perſenfum, quòd iſoſceles triangulus ſit, quem locum à
me notae tum inter cetera pulcriora exiftimo animaduerſione dignum propter fal
fos Ariſtotelis interpretes ad hanc ufque noftram etatem. TEXTVS CVII. ALIAS
XLII. T ca certior quæ non eſt de ſubiecto, ca quæ eſt de ſubiecto, ut
Arithmetica armo nica. Numerus, ſubiectum eſt in ipfa Arithmetica qui quidem
abſtractißimus est, nullum materiale ſubie &tum concernens, Armonica, uero
de nume ro ſonoro, uel magis, de ſono numerato, quod magis concernitmateriain,
ut fonum ipſum., qui fonus numeratus, ſub iectum in armonia eft, ut Boetio
placet libro primo muſices, modo Arithmetica cum circa ſubiectum minus immerfum
matericfit, certior POSTERIORVM ARST. estquamſit ipſa Armonia, quæfubie£tum
conſiderat magis immerſum ipſimateria, eftigitur alia certioraltera
propterſubiecti maioremabe ſtractionem? TEXTVS CVIII. T quæ eft ex minoribus
certior eſt, & prior ea, quæ eft ex appofitione, utArithmetica Geometria.
Dico autem ex appoſitione,ut unitas fubftantia eft fine poſitione, pun. tum
autein fubftantia pofita,hoc autem eft ex appoſitione. Hoc in primis
conſiderandum eft, quod hoc textu non loquitur Ariſtoteles de ſubie&to
fcientiæ.,ſecundum quòd magis og minus abſtracteconſideratur, quia id in
precedenti tex. determinauit; una enimſcientia determinat de abſtracto numero,
reli qua uero defono numerato, unitas enim de qua hoc textu loquitur, non est
ſubiectum in Arithmetica, niſiforfan in aliqua particularidemonftra tione, utin
15 ſeptimi ElementorumEuclidis,in quibuſdam alijs des monſtrationibus trium
librorum Arithmeticæ Euclidis. Dico autem,ut unitas, ſubſtantia eſt, fine
appoſitione, punetum autemfubftantia poſia ta, hoc est ex appoſitione,Nicomacus,Boetius,
Tonſtallus Anglus,Lu cas Paciolus, in primis lordanus, o Euclides recte
interpretarentur huncAriſtotelis textum ſiadeſſent, quem locum obſcurant rabini
cum * ueſtra excellétia ex appoſitione nominati,heu me, in manusquorü inter
pretum incidifti Ariſtoteles? quæ hominum dementia te torquet: erant ne ſimile
hominum genus tuo tempore, ita inſipidi atque macrologia op preßi, qui Platonem,
quique te audirent, expoliati Geometricis, &dis fciplinis orbati?ut funthoc
tempore nedum iuuenes non recte imbuti lite teris, fed magis ſeneſcentes in fua,
non tua philoſophia homines, exurs gant Romani uiri, liberalibus diſciplinis
præditi, quorum bonarum are tium hereditas, negligentia pofteritatis, uerfa eft
ad extruneas nationes o inter Barbaros fruftratim etiam dilaniatur, eo locum
hunc inter pretentur. Non eget unitas ipſa;ut ſit in ſua natura,quod fit puncto
affe & a, uellined, uelalio quoppiam alieno, fed punctus, uel linea',
ſeufuæ perficies, uel etiam corpus,impoſsibile eft, quod ſit,quin pun &tus
unus, uel una ſuperficies, aut corpusunum, uel plurafint: Plura autem pun &
a, eſſe non poffunt, niſi prius punctum unum,uel unafuperficies,aut corpus
unumfit, minus igitur eft unitas, quim punétum unum, Pombaiam IN PRIMVM LIB.
ipfa uocemanifeſtum eſt.Vnitatem Arithmetica conſiderat: non ut fuum fubie
&tum, fed ut id, quod adſuum ſubie tum quodam ordine attribuia tur tanquàm
pars ad ſuum totum. Vnum pun &tum, feu lineam unam, uel etiam unum corpus
Geometra, atque stereometraconſiderans appos nit lineam,pun & um
&corpus ipſum unitati, uel illis unitatem appos nens, ex pluribusfacit fuam
conſiderationem,quàm fit illi Arithmetici, qui unitatem conſiderat abſtractiſsime,
nulli reiappoſitam. Ex hac declaratione patet id quod Ariſtoteles ait primo de
anima in principio, quòd fcientia de anima nobiliſsima, eſt, duabus de cauſis
prima ex nobi litate ſubie &ti, ſecunda ex certitudine, ex certitudine dico,
non ut quis dam inueterati in philofophia craſſa exponunt, uidelicet ex
demonſtra tionis certitudine,ſedcertior dico, quia exſubiecto ſimpliciori eft,
que anima eſt, atque minus compoſito, quàmſint ſubiecta librorum,librum de
anima precedentium, ex precedentis textus, atque huius expoſis tione id totum
colligas uelim, ex precedenti, ſi de anima, ex præfens ti autem ſi de anime
particula, loca libri de anima intelligantur. Claret etiam, ex hac noftra
interpretatione,quod Mathematicæ diſcipline non ideo dicendæfunt non ſcientia,
quia non funt circafubftantias, ut ans tiquusætate indostus quidam in hac parte,
philoſophus non erubes fcitaſſerere', ofequaces,quia illas inquit merito
dicendasſcientias los quitur, quæ tantum circa fubftantiasfunt; non autem que
circa accia dentia, ut funt Mathematicæ, quod apud Ariſtotelem nunquam legitur
Dico quòd Mathematice uere e in primis ſcientie, ſecundum nos & re ipfa
funt, ex fententia doétifsimi Boetij in principiofue Arithmeticæ,ubi ait,
ſcientiæ atque ſapientia uerehe funt, quæſunt circa res, quæ nunquàm mutantur,
fed fua natura femper funt,utſunt fubftantia,a quantitates; quo nammaiore
auctore hec noſtra ſentens tia corroboratur, quàm ſitipſemet Ariſtot. in hoc
præexpoſito textu ! qui in fua doctrina conftans, punctum ſubſtantiam appellit,
itidem unitatem ſubſtantiam dicit, ſi igitur fole ille ſint ſcientiæ, quæ circa
fubftantiasfunt, in primis Arithmetica atque Geometria merito (quics quid
balbitiant alij) ſcientiæ appellande nedum nomine, fed natura digna funt. Quia
tamen de mente Ariſtotelis teneo Mathematicas diſciplinas, non eſſe ſcientias,
non ob id, quia de accidentibus ſint,neque ex eoquod percominunia principia
procedunt, ſed quia affectiones que in ipſis con cluduntur, non
perdemonſtrationem, quemfyllogifmum ſcientialem Ariſtoteles uocat, concluduntur
ut declaratum fuit textu nonageſia men, mo POSTERIORVM ARIST. moquarto,merito
ſcientia non funt, ſiſcrupulofa indagine ſcientiæ not men indagari, quis uelit.
TEX. CXII. ALIAS XLIII. 3 EYE per fenfum eft ſcire id, Exemplis duobus. Altero
Geometrico reliquo, Vero Aſtro Nnomico, declarat Ariſtoteles, ſi enim ſenſus
uifus uideret id, quod intellefius percipit fecunda par te
trigeſimæſecundeprimi Elementorum,quód trian gulus. uidelicet, habet tres
duobus rellis pares, non tamen propterea uidens illud diceretur fciens, fed ut
fciensfieret ad huc demonſtrationem quereret,o huius rationem reddit dicens,
necef= feenimquidem eſt ſentireſingulariter, ſcientia autem eſt in cognoſcen=
douniuerfale, unde eſi ſupra Lunam eſſentus, utputa inſupremo orbe defferente
augem Lune, uel in orbe defférente caput draconis,uel etiam in cælo Mercurij,
uideremus Lunam ingredi umbram terra, e par timenftruum non propter hoc
diceremur fcientes, quia illud, quod uiá deretur,effet ſingulare, &cum
ſcientia ſit circa uniuerſale diſcurrene do, o per intellectionem ipſius
uniuerfalis, ſequitur, quod per ſenſum non eft fcire. Aliter etiam exponaturſic,
ut ſi eſſemusſuper planetum, qua Luna est, &in illa parte planete que
terram, & centrum uniuerſi confpicit, &foc'es noſtra uerſus idem
centrum mundi,quod.eſtterre cen trum ſentiremusquidem per ſenſum uifus, quòd
deficeret Lund tunc, fed non propter quidomnino,quiaſenſus non plures percipit
ecclipſes ſimul neque actu,neque potentia,fed unam tantum,necobid tumen
ſcientes dice remur, non enim uniuerfalis est ſenfus, fed particularis ut ait,
ex conſi deratione multotiesaccidente univerſale uenantes demonſtrationem ha
bemus, non ſecludit hoc loco Ariſtoteles ſcientiam de purticularibus, ut Tex.
iij. fuit determinatum, fed ita intelligas, quod ſenſus eft tantum
particularium, intellectus autem utriuſque, Sunt tamen quædam reducta ad fenfus
defeétum in propofitis & c. · In hac particula huius textus, idem perſuadet
diuerſo exemplo, quòd. videlicet neque per ſenſum eſt ſcire, in prima huius
textus particulas Exemplum attulit in phænomena eGeometria, in hac autem
particula exemplum est in perſpectiua, eft etiam quoddam aliud diuerfum, quia
precedensexemplumeft,de unica wſingulari eclypſi. In hac auten pars N IN PRIM
VM LIB. ticula exemplum præbet de multis illuminationibus faétis per uitra pera
forata, ſiue foraminailla ſint pori uitrorum, feu etiam foramina ſint ma
gna,artificio quodam facta, que fenfusuifus in multis uitris confpiciens,
compertum haberet, &manifeſtum eſſet, & propter quid illuminat, id
eft,propter,quid illuminationes multæ fierent,quoniam, ut inquit,uis deremus
quid ſeparatum in unoquoque uitro, id est foramina multa, per qua
radijtranſeuntes illuminationes multe fierent in pariete e re gione collocato,
uel in pauimento domus,quapropterſi plures eclypſes ſimul perciperet fenfus
uifus,quodtamenfierinequit, &uideret etiam hoc euenire ex obiectu terræ
inter Solem of Lunam, illud de Luna ex emplum nullo modo diuerfum eſſet ab iſto
de uitris perforatis, niſi quod alterum in Phænomena, reliquum eſſet in
perſpectiua; Ne.credas tam men propter multas irradiationes a uiſu
ſimulperſpectas, Q uiſis etiam fingulis foraminibusſimul, uel poris in uitris
per quos radiationes fica rent, quòd quis ob id diceretur fciens,ſed ex his
fingularibusfenfu pera ceptis unum uniuerfale intellectus
intelligens,deeo.fcientiam generaret qua poftea merito quis diceretur fciens,
illud autem uniuerfale non cola ligebatur, ab intellectu ex unica tantum
eclypſi uiſa, fed ex pluribus die uerſis temporibusobſeruatis,Ex hoc loco
habetur quod non est ſatisad demonſtrationem habere propter quid., niſi propter
quid habeatur, per difcurfum (fenſus autem non difcurit ) ab uniuerſalibus ad
minus uniuer ſalia, ſenſusenim percipiebat quod multæ illuminationes propter
multa foramina fiebant, nulla tamen erat ibu demonſtratio. TEXTVS CXIIII. IRCA
Textus particulam illam, Aut æquale maius, autminus, Scire eſt, quod primi Elea
mentorum eſt conceptio animi apudEuclidem, ut fi una quantitas comparetur ad
aliam eiufdem genes ris, aut erit ei æqualis, aut eadem maior, uel e46 dem
minor, ut quatuor, ad quatuor, uel ad tria, aut ad quinque,ſi comparentur,
fieri nequit, quod eadem quantitas qus tuor,ad quantitatem unam di &tarum
comparata, fit æqualis, a maior minoreadem,statim enim fequitur
contradictio,fedfi ad diuerfas quan titates comparetur, verumquidein poteft
effe, quòd unaſit maior emi nor & equalis,ſi non ad unicam tantum, fedfi ad
plures fit comparata, POSTERIORVM ARIST P TEX. CX V. ARTIC VI. A huius Textu,
Neque omnium. uerorum principia funt eadem, neque con ueniunt,ut unitates
punétis non conueniūt, læ quidem enim non habent poſitionein,illa autem habent,
Deappoſitione in punétis, eo pacto intelligas, ut tex.108 declaraui. Exemplo
enim loqui tur de principijs,non quidem ex quibus inferatur conclufio, fed ex
qui dus compoſitumfit, quia ex unitatibus pluribus ſimul coaceruatis com
ponitur numerus, ex pluribusautem punctis non componitur quippiam ut terminaui
tex. xix.huius, ſimpliciores ob idfunt ipſe unitates, que funt numerorum
principia, quamfint puncta,que lineas terminant, uni tas enim,uel etiam
unitates non ſupponunt punétum,uel punéta,punétus 'tamen uel puncta eſſe non
poſſunt, quin uel punctum unum,uel plura pun & ta fint,non igiturconueniunt
inter fe propter appoſitionem unitatis pñ to appoſite, wepropter non
appoſitionem, puncti ipſi unitati, unitas enim non ideo unitus est, propter
unum punétū,ſicutpunctum unum eſt, propter unitatis appofitionem, ®ultra ait,
quòd diuerſafuntgenere, ille enim in diſcreta, hecuero in continua
conſiderantur quantitate: TEX. CXX. ALIAS XLIIII. VONIA'M autem idein
multipliciter dicitur eft autem, ut non commenfurabilein enim eſſe diametrum
uere opinari inconueniens eſt, ſed quia diameter (circa quam ſunt opi. niones)
idem, fic eiufdem eſt, ſed quod quid erat eſſe unicuique,ſecundum rationem non
eſt idem, Circa eandemdiametrum ſcientia poteſt eſſe, opinio per media tamen
diuerſa, falfam quidem opinionem habet ille qui diametrum commenſurabilem coſte
eſſe ſentiet, ueram autem obtinebit ille qui Eucli dis demonftrationibus
inftrúctus diametrum inconmenſurabilem coſte efje protulerit in qua re tex: 1x.
huius determinatum & demonſtratum fuit, quod ipſe diameter
incommenſurabilis eſt ipſi coſte,aliter enin, par numerus, impar effet, Circa
idem igitur contingit diuerſitas, feu idem multipliciter dicitur, ut quòd
diameter ſit commenfurabilis &inz commenfurabilis cofta. Nij IN SECVNDVM
LIBRVM POSTERIORVM ARISTOTELIS, PRESBITER PETRVS CATHENA: V ENETV S. ** 3 TEX T
VS II ALIAS I. TEATRI V M enim utrum hoc infit, aut hoc, quærimus in nume
rumponentes,ut utrum deffi ciat Sol, uel non, ipſuin quia quærimus. Luna enim
defficit in ſe a lumine, a patitur menſtruum, propter interpoſitam terram diame
traliter inter Solem u Lunam, Sol autem non defficit lumine unquam in ſe, fed
tantum non illuminat, quana do in capite uel cauda draconis res peritur fimul
cum Luna hoc quidem prouenit, ex eo quod inter afpes Eum noſtrum o corpus
folare interponitur Lund, quæ cum ſit core pus denfum, coppacum magis quàm alia
pars fui orbis impedit fo lares radios, enon finit eos ad afpe&tum nostrum
protellari. Dubita tur circa id quod fuit di&tum paruin ante,o quód
fæpißimeait Ariſtote les, præfertim in ſequentibus,ufque ad textum nonum an
Luna defficiat penitus lumine, quando patitur menftruum, quod eſt querere,an
Luna habeat aliquod lumen àfe, uelſi non àfe, an conſeruet lumen in ſe imbis
bitum tamen à Sole, utfomniat Aueroes, propterea quod, quandotota eclypfatur
uidetur non nihilhabere luminis, apparere fubnigra, etiam apparet uideri eius
rotunditas extra plenilunium, ad quod reſõſio abſolutißimafit,quod Luna nullum
habet lumen,niſi à Sole ſecundoquod non imbibit lumen, quemadmodum ſpongia
liquorem aquæum, cauſaaus të apparitionis luminis tempore eclypſis, uelfuæ
rotunditatis antequam POSTERIOR V MARIS T. fit in oppoſitione Solis eft, quă
ſtatim declarabo quibuſdam paucis pres intellectis, cum ipſa ſint corpus denfum
&politum quemadmodum cæte ra fydera, radijſolaresquifortes ſunt, cuin ad
ipfam pertingunt non talentes ultra penetrare propter denſitatem ad terram
reuerberantur, Tempore autem eclypſis, radij ſolares impediti a terre occurſu
nõ attın gunt lunam, ſed tunc radij aliorum fyderum, qui debiliores
ſuntſolaribus radijs, pertingunt corpus lunare, &fua tenui uirtute Lunam
illuftrat, ob id Luna uidetur habere nõ nihil luminis tempore ſuæ eclypſis, et
pro pter hanc eandem caufam dicatur quod eius rotunditas apparet citra ple
nilunium. TEXT VS I x. + 1 1 + VID conſonantia, ratio numerorü,in acu to &
graui, & propter quid conſonat acue tum graui, propter id, quòd rationem
has bent numerorum graue & acutum, utrum eſt conſonare acutum & graue,
utrum ſit in numeris ratio corum,accipientes autem quia eſt, quid igitur eſt
ratio querimus. inter ea quæ elucidan da funt in hoc textu, idin primis
occurrit, notatu dignum; graue enim Cum motum fuerit, citius ad quietem redit
quam leue æquali pulſumo tüm, Aliud etiam eft animaduerſione dignum hic
notandum quòd neruus cumpellitur ininftrumentis non unumfolummodo ſonum
efficere ſedmul tos, quiquidem multi à feinuicem distinti non percipiuntur, ut
diſtins Eti, propter celeritatein unius poſt alium, Exemplum præberem de Tur
bone,uiride, aut rubra linea lineato,qui propter celerem motumtotus ui deretur
uiridis, aut rubcus, ſunt igiturmulti foni à grsui corda effceti ad quos, fi
foni illi, qui leuiori neruo procreatifunt,comparentur has beanto ad illos
ratione, ut quatuor ad tria,tūc diateſſaron cõfonantiaria minimam efficient, fi
ueroeam quæ eſt nouem adſex diapente, odiapaf fon fi illam efficient, quæ
quatuor ad duo, que concinentie, cum ſint ſimplices; exipſis aliæ que compoſitæ
funt generantur,tanquam ex ſuis proximis elementis, ut eft diapentediapaffon,o
biſdiapaſſon, quæ ome nia ex Boetio clara habentur, o ſibi do toresqui Calepino
student, in declaratione Ariſtotelis hec gratis prætereant, Alia exempla à
tertio textu uſque ad undecimum,que Ariſtoteles præbetfua Palade in mathea
1 IN SECVNDVM Ľ IB maticis, quæ
quiaaliàs in præcedétibus dilucidata per mefuerunt,nunc conſulto pretereo, fed
quæ di&ta funtfuper hoc textu non plane ſatisfae ciunt nostre menti,ubi
enim nonfuerintplures pulfus ad pa uciores com parati, ut in humand uoce,
căcinentia quidem reperitur inter re, ala licet nõ niſi ſingula,&fingula
uox emittatur,non igitur interfonos paus ciores tantum, eu plures concinentia,
ſed primo inter graue ego acutum reperitur, quæ autein uocum diftantia inter ſe
reperiatur, ut debita; fiat concinentia, tum ex hominum ufu ab inſtrumentis
accepto, cumetiä per ea que Boetius tractat manifeſtum est, ſed'in dubium
occurrit illud, quod muſicifaciunt, quando fuper breuem ſillabam, plus temporis
cona ſummunt, quim par ſit, eſuperfillabam longam, breui temporis notu la
festinant, ita ut ea,quæ naturaſunt breues, fiant longe, &quæ longe
ſuntſillabæ,breuesfiant, ſic ut'nonmodesta &doctaſit ipfa muſica, fed
Barbara o contra ufum loquendi appareat, Ad quod dico, ſequen tia dubia quæ
funt,an concinentia proueniat ex mouente, ut Aristoteles in libris
degeneratione animalium, uel ex motis rebus, ut in rethoricis, an exnumeratis
pulſibus, ut hoc textů tangit, quòd in nostris fragmens tis logicis hæc omnia
clarafient, fed pro declaratione littera, huius tex tus,uideturexpoſitio
feciſſe fatis. TEXTVS XIX. ¿ ALIAS II: MPLIvs omnis demonſtratio aliquid de
aliquo demonſtrat, ut quia eſt, aut non eft, in deffinitione autem nihil
alterum de altero prædicatur, ut neque animal de bis pede,neque hoc de
animali,neque de plano figura, non eniin planum figura eſt, neque figura planum
eft. Euclides póst quam deffinitionem plani dederit in primoElementoruin
deffinitione quinta, ſtatim de angulis planis, e de fiquris planis adiecit
deffinitiones, que figure ideo planæ dicuntur, quia in plano picte ſunt,feu
quia in ſuperficie plana ſunt deſcripte, fi gura plana, hefunt due particulæ
deffinitionis, quarum altera deals tera non predicatur, quia id quod planum,
& id que in plano figura fit, 11on idem eft, demonſtratio uero cõcludit,
quia eft hoc de hoc, ut de trian gulo, quod tres duobus rectis equales habeat,
et q latus trigoni, quod fubtendien maiori angulo, nõ eft minies lateri
fubtenſo minori angulo. POSTERIORVM ARIST. TEXTVS XLIX ALIAS X I. V ANIFEST VM
eft autem & fic, propter quid rectus eſt, qui in ſemicirculo eft, quo
exiftente rectus eft,fit igitur rectus in quo a, inediun duorum rectorü in
quob, qui eft in feinicirculo in quo c, eius igitur, quod eſt a rectum inelle
c, qui eſtin ſemi circulo caufa eft b, hic quidem ipfi a æqualis eft, c autem
ipſi b, duorum enim rectorum dimidium eft b, igitur exia ſtente dimidio diiorum
rectorum a, ineſt ipſi c, hoc autem erat in ſemicirculo rectum eſſe. Euclides
xxx tertij uniuerſa lius proponit id, quod Ariſt. hoc loco ait magis contracte,
ut ſecundum Ariſtotelem conſtruatur fic, ſit ſemicirculus a b d cuiuscentrum c,
quo perpendicularis excitetur per undecimā primi Elementorum cd, ſecans arcum a
b in puncto d, à quo, duæ lineæ protrahantur ad ter minos diametri dia,db,
ſequiturper quintam primi angului a dc, bdc effe medietates reéti,quæ
ſimulmedietates additæ faciunt angų lum a d bre&tum,ficut duæ unitates bi
narium numerum, quia tamē non uide tur quòd philofophus particulariter proponat
id, quod uniuerfaliter Eucli des docet, ut uidelicet quod perpendi çularis à
puncto c excitetur, &quòd folus angulus,qui fit in puncto de deter minato,
ubi perpendicularis ſecat ar cum, re & tus ſit, licet illa due medietates
formaliter ſint unius re &ti, fina gulađ; dimidium refti, quæ pro materia
recti accipiuntur, ficut due uni tates materia numeri binarij, Ideo aliter
declaro & litteræ philoſoa phi magis cohærebit non in figura præfcripta,ſit
angulus rectus a datus, b autemfit medietas duorum rectorum, c uero in
ſemicirculo conſtitus tus, ſit æqualis b, quæ uero uni veidēfunt æqualia inter
ſe funt æquae lia, cum autem a ſit æqualis b, quia uterqueeſt medietas duorum
res. & orum, or ſimiliter c qui in ſemicirculo eſt ſit eidem b æqualis, c
ipfi a equalis erit, a quippe rectus eſt ex dato igitur c, in ſemicircula
conſtitutus rectus eſt, quod propoſuit Ariſtoteles, quis ſit angulus rer IN
SECVNDVM L I B. Aus patet per deffinitionem octauam primi Elementorum, quod
autem b in quocunque puncto peripherie femicirculi fit medietas duorum rectos
rum, patet per trigeſimam tertij Elementorum, quodetiam omnis alius angulus in
quocunque puncto arcus ſemicirculi fit æqualis 6, utputa 0, patet per uigeſimam
tertij Elementorum, qubi in priori expoſitione di cebatur,quòd duæ medietates
erant materia totius relti anguli, hic dica's tur,quòd illiduo partiales anguli
b, ſunt materia torius anguli recti, fic ut demonftretur, quod angulus, qui in
ſemicirculo conſtitutus, eſt re ctus, per materialem caufam, quæ materialis
caufa, ſunt iple partes recti anguli ipſum integrantes. TEXTVS LIII. ONTINGIT
autem idein & gratia alicuius eſſe, & ex neceſsitate, ut propter quid
pe netrat laternam lumen, etenim ex neceſsitas te pertranſit, quod in parua eft
partibilius, per maiores poros fiquidein lumen fit per tranſeundo,
Minutiſsimæenimſunt; aut potius fub tiliſsime ſpecies uiſibiles ignis,quæ
propter ſubtilitatem ſuam per poros uiri in quofranguntur exeuntes clarum iter
oſtendunt, ne adlapidem pe: des offendamius, exemplum eſt in optica,inaterialis
caufa eft uitrum, fi nalis,neolfendamus; fornalis eft illa compago uitrorum,lignorumq;,
effi ciens autem,eſt ipſe luterne artifex,quantum ad matheſimſpectat non eft
niſi materialis cauſa in conſideratione, o radios fractos ipfius ignis in
corpus disphinum, per quos illuminationes fiunt. TEXTVS LVI. ALIAS XII. CLIPSIS
Lunæ futura, preſens, atque prete rita,medio interpofitionis terre,
diametraliter in ter Solem & Lunam,nunc, olum, & in futurum con
cluditur, cumfuerit Luna in capite uel cauda dras conis uelprope, o ſub'nadir
Solis. SICVT POSTERIORVM ARIST. 105 TEX.LVII. ALIAS XIIII. IGVt ergo non funt
puncta, adinuicem co pulata, ticque, quæ facta ſunt, utraque enim indiuifibilia
funt. Puncta enim fiadinuicem copula rentur, statim haberetur, lineam ex pun
&tis componi quod impoßibile effe demonftratum eft in primo, textu Wdecimo
octauo. TEXTVS LX. ALIAS X VII. I co autein in plus ineſſe quæcúque, infunt
quidem unicuique uniuerfaliter,Atuero & alij,ut eft aliquid quod oinni
Trinitati, in eft fed & non Trinitati, ficut ens ineft Trini tati, ſed
& non numero, numerum quemlibet ex materia oforma conſtare nemo eft qui
neſciat, aliter cnim numerorumſpecies noneſſent numerofinitæ, potentia
ueroinfis nite per unitatis additionem, fpecies autemexgenere odifferentia con
ftat, genus uero materia differentia autemforma eft in numero, materia
numeriſunt ipfæ unitates, ut in ternario numero, tres unitates materia eft
numeri ternarij,formaautem eft ipfa Trinitas, ens inquit ineſt Trinita ti népe
ternario numero,o hoc prædicatū, ens, extra genus arithmetică eft, quod quidem
ens, alijs multo diuerſis genere à numeroconuenit. Impar uero & ineft omni
Trinitati& in plus eſt. Etenin ipſi quinario ineft, fed non extragenus, ens
quidem alijs ab arithmetico genere conuenit, imparuero nullis alijs niſi his,
quæ infra arithmeticum genus continentur cõuenire poteſt,utquinariofeptinario
&alijs multis. Huiufmodiigitur accipienda funt uſque ad hoc quouſ: que, tot
accipiantur primum, quorum unumquodque qui dem in plus ſit, omnia autem non in
plus. inquit quouſque tot dccipiantur primum, uerbum hoc, primum intelligatur
ex æquo, feu ad equate, ut tot uenetur quis particulas deffinientes,quòd non
fint ſuper abundantes, neque diminuteparticule, ſed ad idtendat, ad quod
ille,qui tetragonicum latus alicuius figuræ quærit, utin libris de anima iubet
phi bofophus. Duo præterea funt hic notanda precepta,ut unumquodquefit LO 6 IN
SECVNDVM LIB. cum non in plus, nempeunaqueque particula deffinitionis
uniuerſalior ſitdeffini to, ut animal,rationale,mortale,capaxbeatitudine, que
omnes particu ie, in hominis deffinitione ſuntpofitæ, cunaqueque uniuerſalior
eft ip sohomine, omnesautem fimul fumpte,nihilaliudnifihomo funt,Dubie tatur,
an illa, quae in Elementorum Euclidis libris deffinitiones poſite funt,
utunapromultis fimilibus excogitetur hæc,triãgulusredilineus, eft figura, plana,claufa,tribuslineis
re&tis,fit conftituta ex omnibus par ticulis deffinientibus,quarū una,et
altera,atqueſingulaſit uniuerſalior, ipſo triangulo rectilineo? Dicendum
confequenteradAriftotelem pro pter particulam illam, tribus lineis reftis,
illam non eſſe deffinitionem, fit uniuerſalior ipſo triangulo rectilineo,
quapropter ſunt ma gis dignitates appellande, quàm deffinitiones,nifidixeris,
quodAriſtote les intelligit de his particulis definientibus, quæ recto cafu,
& non oblis quo explicantur, & fic proprie dicerentur deffinitiones,
que interpreta tio qualiſcunque fit,non habetur ex Ariſtotelis littert, neque
tamen ual de difplicet. Hanc enim neceſſe eſt fubftantiam rei eſſe, ut
trinitati in cft oinni,numerus,impar, primusutroque modo, & ficut non
menfurari numcro, & licut non componi ex numeris, hæ duæ particulæ,numerus,impar,nõ
patiuntur, difficultaté,quinipſo. ternario uniuerſaliores ſint, ſed particula
iſta primus utroq; modo,decla ratur ab ipfo Arift. quod fit uniuerſalior
ternario numero,propter altes rī modorū, quonumerus primus dicatur eſſe ut
unitatefola metiri poßit, multis conuenit numeris, ut quinario, ſeptenario,atque
ternario, et alijs multis non cõponi ex numeris pariter multis cõuenit, ut
ternario, qui ex binario ounitate conſtat, ſimiliter binario,qui conſtat non ex
pluribus numeris,fed ex binis unitatibus, Ex hoc locohabeturnefcio quid contras
Etius,quàm Euclides proponat,in feptimo Elementorü deffinitione x 15, XIII,
quibus ait, quod primus numerus eſt, qui fola unitatemetie tur, Compoſitus
autem eſt, qui dimetitur alio à fe ego ab unitate numero, quo loco uidetur
quòdaliud fit dimetiri numero; &aliud numeris dia uerſis componi, ut
ſeptenarius, nullo alio número ab unitate dimetina tur eſi componatur ex
diuerfis numeris,ut ex binario o quinario,c. ex ternario &quaternario,
primo enim modo aliquis poterit effe pris inus, qui compoſitus erit fecundo
modo ut-XI, 0 X111, atque alij, quos vagu VI, VITI V Componunt nullus tamen
eorum dimetia tur eorum alterum, var vi nullo modo dimetitur XI, VIII pariter
POSTERIORVM ARIST.to v nullo modo dimetiuntur x1, cum neuter fit alicuius
maioris pars, ut ex prima deffinitione quinti, &tertia deffinitione
feptimiEle.. mentorum Euclidis manifeſtum eſt,hoc igitur loco dico, quod
Ariſtotea les non loquitur fecundum Euclidis ſcitum,fed famoſe, ut philofophoa
rum quorundam aliqui, Vbifecundum Ariftotelem tam partes aggregae tiua, que c
irrationales, e integrantes dicuntur, quàm partes ali quote,qua rationales,
odimetientes, dicuntur numerum compone re, ſed ſecundum Euclidis fcitum, non
niſi partes proprie fumpte, que aliquotæfunt, numerum componunt; quod etiam
Nicomachus & Boce. tius in arithmeticis aſſentiuntur, niſi dixeris quod
etiam fecüdum Euclia dem,non omnem numerum,qui alium componit compoſitum
dimetiri, fed ubi hoc Euclides fomniet non uidi. TEXTVS LXXVIII ALIAS XXV.
ARTICVLA difficultatis ſe offert in hoc textu, quam Grecio Latini pretereunt, Aueroes
tamen magna comentatione tangit nefcioquid, fed fcopum rei non tetigit iudicio
eorü qui Ariſt.et Euclidis inſe quuntur,ueſtigis, Textus Ioannis grāmatici
etArgi lopili obfcurăt aliquo modo primo intuitu pulchram Ariſtot.doctrinam,
quam aperit textus Aucrois, ſiue Abramum, ſeu Bu, rinam inſpexeris, ipfius
Aucrois interpretes, qua Ariſtotelis doctrina ex Aueroico textu bahita, illam
poſtea ex loanne grammatico, Argi ropilo uidebis neceſſario effluere, loannis
textus ita habetur, fi uero ficut in genere, finiliter fe habebit,ut propter
quid con mutabiliter, Analogum eſt. Alia enim eit cauſa in lineis, & in
numeris, & eadem, inquantum quidem lineæ, alia eft,in quantuin nero habens
augınentun tale, eadem eſt, fic in omnibus, Argilopilus ſichabet fi fint ut in
genere, medium ha bebunt finiliter,ueluti propter quid etiam mutato ordia oc,
funilitudinein ſubeunt rationum, eft enim alia caufa in lincis, & in
numeris, atque eadem alia quidem eſt, ut linea rum rationem fubit,eadem autem,
ut tale habet incremen tum, & codem in omnibus modo; Aueroes fic habet
commentar tionc magna,li autem fuerit fecundum modum generis,eft eis. affection
IN'SECVNDVM LI B. uinum fimilitudine, uerbi gratia, cur quando permutantur:
fint proportionalia, huius cnim caufæ in lineis & numeris ſunt diuerfæ, qua
autem addit, hac ſpecie additionis, hoci modo eft una per ſe in omnibus,hoc
textu nõ minus laboris fum pſi propter uarietatem textuum, quam etiam ob id,
quod interpretes: non ita interpretari uidentur, ut textui Ariſtotelis
cohæreant fue interpretationes aut nug & potius, præter Aueroin, qui magna
come mentatione, confuſo tamen ordine dicit aliquid, faciens ad Aristotex: lis
ſententiam, non tamen aperit uerum fenfum littera Ariſtotelis Pro vera igitur
Ariſtotelis ſententia, in primisſcire debes, quod mas gnitudines ſeu continue
quantitates, &multitudines feu quantitates die ſcrete omnes, uerfantur
circa unum genus quanti, omnes enim quane titates funt, quæ antequàm
permutentur, proportionalia eſſe debent, ut affeétio hæc,permutata
proportionalitas,ſeu permutatim proportios nari, concluditur de quantitatibus
proportionalibus, ratio autem qua concluditur hoc; de lineis,
fuperficiebus,temporibus, vt corporibus, eadem de numeris concluditur, primum
demonftratur propoſitione dea cimafexta quinti Elementorum Euclidis per alia
principia, opropos ſitiones diuerſas ab his propoſitionibus &principijs,
quibus de nume ris eadem permutata proportio concluditur in feptimo Elementorum,
propoſitione decimatertia uel decimaquarta. Ecce igitur alia ratio in li
neiseft,quia diuerſa e uniuerſalior, atque per diuerſa media, à ratio: ne qua
idem de numeris concluditur, huius enim caufæ in lineis &nume ris ſunt diuerfæ,
cauſas has, eas uoco, quæ folum dant propter quid & de his cauſis, que
etiam dant eſſe, hoc loco minime intelligas uelim, quia tamen dicebam,quòd non
concludebatur hæc affe &tio,permutata pro portio niſi de proportionalibus
quantitatibus. Si modofieret queſtio, o cauſainueftigaretur,quare quantitates
dicantur proportionales, uel que nam ſint quantitates proportionales, aut
quando proportionales funt, Ariſtoteles dicit unam eſſe cauſam in omnibus, cum
difcretis tum etiam continuis, quæ eft ex additione fimili utrobique pro cuius
notitia mania feſta deffinitio ſexta quinti Elementorum, minime negligenda eſt,
oeft Quantitates quedicuntur eſſe fecundum proportionem unam, prima ad fecundam
vtertia ad quartam ſunt, quarum prime otertiæ æques multiplices, ſecunde
«quarte equemultiplicibus comparat &, fimiles fuerint uel additione,
ueldiminutione,uel æqualitate,eodem ordinefum POSTERIORVM ARI T. 10% ple.
V'nica eſt héc caufâ, ut quantitates feu difcrete ſint, feu etiam
continuefuerint,héc uidelicet fimilis additio,ueldiminutio,feu æquatio inter
equemultiplicia,hoc autem eſt.quod ait in textu Ariſtoteles, in quantum uero
habens augmentum tale, eadem eft fic in omnibus,hac igi: tur ſpecie additionis
est una pér fe caufa in omnibus. Similem autem eſſe colorem colori, &
figuram figuræ, aliam efſe alñ æquiuocum enim eft fimile in his. Hic quis dem
eſt fortaſsis ſecundum analogiam habere latera, & æquales angulos. Figuræ
rectilinee funtfimiles ex prima deffinitione fexti Elemen.quæ habent angulos
omnesæquales, es latera illosæquales angulos continentia
proportionalia,ſimilitudo igitur,non habet commus nefiguris ocoloribus, niſi
nomenclaturam, non autem rem naturam unam, in coloribus enim non concernes,
neque latera, neque angulos. Habent autem fe fic propter conſequentiam ad
inuicem caufa, & cuius caufa,& cui eſt cauſa, unumquodque tamen
accipienti, cuius eſt. cauſa, in pluseſt, utquatuor rectis æquales, qui funt
extra plus ſunt, quàm triangulus, aut quadrangulus, in omnibusautem æqualiter.
Quæcunque eniinquatuor rectis equales,qui ſuntextra,textus hicdeffétis uus eft,
& mutilus apud Ioannem Grammaticum & Argiropilum, ma. gne
commentationis textus est clarior, ſed non ad plenumfacit fatis,ut mens
Ariſtotelis, fatim appareat. Caufe illationis, ſeu conſequentie, que mutuæ funt,
feinuicem inferunt pro cuius exemplo, ad ea, quæ pri mo libro tex. xcvij. di
&ta fuere inſpiciendum eſt, oultra aduertas quod uniuerſaliuseft habere
omnes angulos extrinfecos æquales quatuor res Ais,quàm eſſe triangulum,uel quadrangulum,aut
pentagonum,uel exago num, aut quippiamtale feorfum, fi autem accipiatur fic
reétilineum est, igitur omnes anguli quiſunt extra, funt equales quatuor
re& is, oecon uerfo, fic infertur, omnes anguli quiſunt extra funt æquales
quatuor rectis,igiturid cuiusfunt anguli extrinſeci accepti, rectilineñ eft,quo
uet bo, re &tilineum, comprehenduntur nedum triangulus, quadrangulus,co
penthagonus, fed omnes figuræ re& ilinec, hoc igitur uult Ariſtoteles
quandoinquit, quod habere extrinfecos quatuor re&tis æquales, uniuer Jalius
eſt trigono, otetragono, ſi uero hec omuia accipiantur, ut in hoc uerbo,
rectilineum, omnes figure rectilineæ comprehenduntur, ajo fic hoc pacto
habentſe propter confequentiam,ut ad inuicem caufa «cu us caufa, &cui eft
caufa. ilo: CAVSAB IGITVR ILLI SVMMAB SIT ILLS LAVS QY AM LINGVA ET VNIVERSA
MENS CONCIPERE POTEST. FINISI RE G I S T R V M.. A B Omnes ſuntduerni. 37 Pac.
4. lined s publicis, à publicis. fac.4.li.6 incumbebam,abſtinere decreui..li.io
laberinthos,labyrinthos.li.21 literis litteris ubique. Pd.4 li.3 comode,
commode.li. 11 prefertim, præfertim ubique. li.12cales, calles. li. 16
Ariſtoteles, Ariſtotelis. Facis li.24 age, aie. Fac. 6.li. 2 pulcra, pulchra
ubique. li, z fpetie, fpecie percubique. li. 32. quinnis, quinis. lin. 3 3
unis,pluribus ubique. Fac. 7 lin.6 neſcit, fcit.Fa.8 li.25 comunem,communem
ubique. F2.13 li. 3 precedentis,precedentis ubique F &c.14 li.9 affumens,
afſummens ubique. li.16 ſempliciter, fimpliciter. li. 12 equales æqualesubique.
Fac.15.li.20 probation, probatione. Fa. 26 li. 26 reſumitur, reſummitur ubique.
Fd. 19.3 1 Geotrica, Geomes trica. fac.20 li. o quadrati, quadrari. li. 10 e e
Spoffet, effe poffet. li. 20 eeſſ;eſe. Fac.22 li. 10 A poline, A polline. Pac.
23 li. innitide tus,initatus. Fac.30 li. 12 fcit,ſit.fac.31.li.12 atulerunt
attulerunt. fa. 3 2.li.27 manus, manu. fac. 34.li.7 ſilicet, ſcilicet ubique.
fuc.36.li.4 Textus, Textu. li.25. aget, & get. fac.41. li:3 2 queſtione,
queſtione ubique. fac.4.3 li. 25 texu, textu.fa. 48 li.34 prinus, primus.
Fac.49 li.16.fue, ſua. fac.49.li.20 induéti, induti. fac. stili. 12recte,recti.
fac.53 li. 11 A'riſtelis, Ariſtotelis.fac.53 li. 12 bucis, buccis ubique. li. 6
nltera, altera. fac.54.li.2.ie, git. fac. 57 li. 24 puerost, pueros, li. 25
illeuatus, eleuatus. fac.59 li. 7 olas, ollas. li. 3i ſimilitcr, ſimili ter.
li. 3 4.innani,inani ubique. fac. 60 li.z eubi,cubi. li.25. apolini, apollini
per,, ubique.lin. 28 pret, preti.fac.61.li.14.palade,pallade, li.24 filicet,
ſcilicet ubique.fac.62 li. 23 rrrat, erat. fac.64. lin. 31 nos tid,
notitia.fa.67 li.14 prebens,prebens.li.16.profonditate,profundis tate. fac. 68
li. 20 queſitis, quæfitis.fa, 9.li.6.nquiinquit. fac.75 li. s. paret, pares.
fac. 76 li.16.notia.notitia. fac. 8 2.li. 13 ingnaros, ignaros.li. 27
preciſiua, preciſiua. li. 31. preedenti,precedentiubique fac. 83. li.
8.ſcienriarum, ſcientiarum. lin. 21.chierurgia, chirurgia. fac. 86 li. 10.
neft, ineft.li. 17.angregata, aggregata. fac. 88 lin. 10 pretereundum,
prætereundum.fac.91.li. 10.triangu o, triangulo. li.28.
redit,reddet.fac.95li,31. eget,eget.fac.96.li.20 fequacea, fequaces. li. 32,
balbitiant,balbutiant.fac. 104.11.18.uirum,uitrum. Et fi qua alia (que non funt
pauca ) pretermiffa funt, diligens le& tor surum colligat &mufcas
abigat.Grice: “The motivation behind my Immanuel Kant Lectures, Aspects of
reason and reasoning, was to shed light on what Catena calls ‘demostrazione
potetissima’.” Grice: “The Latin language – and the Italian language to some
degree – allows for some fine inflections: there’s potius, which when cmbined
with esse, gives posse, or potere – the ‘t’ is sometimes inarticulated as a
‘d’, as in ‘poderoso’, which goes for potius. Now, the interesting thing about
potius, as Ross, and Mansel, and Aldrich and some Italian semioticians have
found out – dealing with Roman law – is that a demonstrazione cn be ‘able’
(potis), in the positive degree. When it becomes comparative, the
demonstrazione becomes ‘dimonstratio potior’, i.e. not able, but abler not
capable, but capabler. Finally, if it’s the ablest or capablest, it’s
demostrazione potissima, or demonstratio potissima. The ‘scuola padovana’ goes
on to qualify ‘dimonstrazione potisima’ into two types, ‘dimonstrazione
potissima affirmative,’ and ‘dimostrazione potisima negativa’. These are higher
types of demonstration than the ‘demonstratio potior affirmativa’ and
‘demonstratio potior negativa’.” Petrus Cathena. Petrus Catena. Pietro
Catena. Keywords: logica matematica, logica aritmetica, logica arimmetica. Refs.:
Luigi Speranza, “Grice e Catena” – The Swimming-Pool Library.
Grice
e Catone Maggiore – Roma – filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza.
Grice
e Catone: Minore – Roma – filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza (Roma). Filosofo italiano. Marco Porcio Catone
-- M. Porcio Catone il Giovane ha come maestri due
stoici, Atenodoro Cordilione -- che si reca a visitare a Pergamo perchè lo
seguisse a Roma ove lo tenne come ospite -- e Antipatro di Tiro. In
Sicilia Catone Uticense conosce l’accademico Filostrato. Nei suoi ultimi
giorni in Utica, Catone Uticense ha vicino a sè lo stoico Apollonide e il
liceale Demetrio. Catone Uticense e questore e pretore.Catone Uticense i
oppose ai triumviri e nella guerra civile si schiera con Pompeo. Dopo
Tapso, Catone Uticense si reca a presidiare Utica, ove si uccide.Catone
Uticense coltiva con molto successo l’eloquenza e si compiace di introdurre
discussioni filosofiche nelle orazioni. Catone Uticense scrive anche
giambi. Cicerone chiama Catone Uticense perfettissimo stoico e nel
"De finibus" gli assegna l'esposizione delle dottrine etiche di
quella scuola di cui aveva studiato intensamente le opere. A statesman and
a philosopher, he studied the philosophy of the Porch. He was a pupil of
Antipater of Tyre and later befriended Apollonides and Demetrius the
Peripatetic, and looked after Athenodorus Cordylion. A staunch republican, he
committed suicide when he believed the ultimate victory of Giulio Cesare in the
civil war was inevitable. He was much admired by Cicerone and many regarded him
as an embodiment of traditional Roman values, just as his great-grandfather,
Cato the Censor, had been before him.
Grice e Cattaneo: l’implicatura conversazionale
longobarda -- Vico e la sapienza italiana – il dialetto milanese e il sostratto
latino -- filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza (Milano).
Filosofo. Grice: “I like Cattaneo; in fact, I LOVE Cattaneo; he is so much like
me! I taught at Rossall, and he defended the the teaching in what the Italians
(and indeed the ‘Dutch’) call the ‘gym’ not just of Grecian and Roman, but
Hebrew – He famously claimed to know Hebrew when he interviewed for a job as a
librarian! – From a semiotic point of view, he saw semiotics as the phenomenon
the philosopher must consider when dealing with communication – he explored
semantics, but also ‘sintassi’ in connection with ‘logic,’ and obviously,
pragmatics – He was interested in comparing systems of communication in Homo
sapiens sapiens and other species – and being an Italian, he was especially
interested in how Roman became Latin – he opposed the Tuscany rule!” -- Grice: “Only a philosopher like Cattaneo is
can understand Cattaneo’s contributions to semiotics!”. Figlio di Melchiorre,
un orefice originario della Val Brembana, e di Maria Antonia Sangiorgio, trascorse
gran parte della sua infanzia dividendosi tra la vita cittadina milanese e
lunghi e frequenti soggiorni a Casorate, dove era spesso ospite di parenti. Fu
proprio durante questi soggiorni che, approfittando della biblioteca del pro-zio,
un sacerdote di campagna, si appassioa alla filosofia, soprattutto dei classici
della filosofia romana. Il suo amore per le lettere humanistiche classiche
lo indusse a intraprendere gli studi nei seminari di Lecco prima e Monza poi,
che avrebbero dovuto portarlo alla carriera ecclesiastica, ma già all'età di
diciassette anni, abbandonò il seminario papista per continuare la sua
formazione presso il Sant'Alessandro di Milano e in seguito al ginnasio e liceo
classic di Porta Nuova dove si diploma. La sua formazione filosofica fu
plasmata, durante gli studi superiori, da maestri quali Cristoforis e Gherardini,
i quali gli aprirono le porte del mondo filosofico milanese. Grazie a queste opportunità,
oltre alla passione per gli studi classici, Cattaneo inizia a nutrire interessi
di carattere sstorico. Sempre in questo periodo furono fondamentali per la
sua formazione filosofica le letture presso la Biblioteca di Brera e il
contatto con il cugino paterno, direttore del gabinetto numismatico, era anche
un importante esponente del mondo filosofico milanese. Altro punto chiave per
il percorso formativo degli suoi interessi furono la frequentazione assidua
dell’Ambrosiana, grazie alla sua parentela materna Sangiorgio con il prefetto
Pietro Cighera, e della biblioteca personale dello zio. La Congregazione
Municipale di Milano lo assunse come insegnante di latino e poi di umanita nel
ginnasio comunale di Santa Marta. Approfondizza le sue frequentazioni con gli
filosofi milanesi, entrando a far parte della cerchia di Monti. Di questi
stessi anni sono le sue amicizie con Franscini e Montani. Dopo aver iniziato a
frequentare le lezioni di Romagnosi nella sua villa, ne divenne presto amico e
allievo. Si laurea Pavia con il massimo dei voti. Risale il suo saggio
dato alla stampa e apparso sull’antologia, si tratta di una recensione
all'assunto primo del concetto di “giure naturale”. Saggio sulla Storia della
Svizzera italiana. Convinto sostenitore di richieste di maggiore autonomia del
regno lombardo-veneto dalla corte di Vienna, pensava di puntare su una politica
non violenta per avanzare tali richieste. Il motivo del suo rifiuto nei
confronti della violenza si può comprendere da questa affermazione poco conosciuta
del filosofo milanese che al tempo stesso lascia trasparire cosa egli ne
pensasse di un'annessione al Regno di Sardegna. Siamo i più ricchi dell'impero,
non vedo perché dovremmo uscirne. Ottenne alcune concessioni dal vice-governatore
austriaco, subito annullate dal generale austriaco Radetzky. Purtroppo
l'evoluzione tragica delle Cinque giornate di Milano, degenerate in violenza,
fecero capire a C. che un dialogo tra la nobiltà lombarda e la corte di Vienna
e effettivamente difficile, stessa impressione che curiosamente ebbe anche Radetzky
che nel periodo del suo governo nel lombardo-veneto punta a cercare il favore
del volgo. C. e i suoi amici
parteciparono quindi e contribuirono alle cinque giornate di Milano, senza
agire con azioni di violenza gratuita. Ma dopo di esse, rifiuta l'intervento
piemontese. Considera il Piemonte meno sviluppato della Lombardia e lontano dall'essere
democratico. Presidente del Consiglio di guerra di Milano, che governa insieme
al Governo provvisorio fino alla caduta di Milano al ritorno degli austriaci.
Dopo una serie di moti popolari, nel frattempo, viene proclamata la repubblica
romana, guidata da un triumvirato costituito da Mazzini, Saffi ed Armellini.
In seguito alla conclusione dei moti ripara nella ivizzera e si stabilì a
Castagnola, nei pressi di Lugano, nella villa Peri. Qui ebbe modo di stringere
maggiormente la sua amicizia con Franscini, potente filosofo ticinese, e di
partecipare alla vita filosofica del Cantone e della città. Fonda il liceo di
Lugano, che volle fortemente per creare un'istruzione pubblica laica libera dal
giogo del papa, al fine di formare una generazione liberale e laica che era
alla base dello sviluppo economico del resto della Svizzera. Amico di Manara,
anda a Napoli per incontrare Garibaldi, ma poi tornò in Svizzera, perché deluso
dall'impossibilità di formare una confederazione di repubbliche. Pur
essendo più volte eletto in Italia come deputato del Parlamento dell'Italia
unificata, rifiuta sempre di recarsi all'assemblea legislativa per non giurare
fedeltà ai Savoia. Viene ricordato per le sue idee federaliste impostate
su un forte pensiero liberale e laico. Acquista prospettive ideali vicine al
nascente movimento operaio-socialista. Fautore di un sistema politico basato su
una confederazione di stati italiani sullo stile della svizzera. Avendo stretto
amicizia con filosofi ticinesi come Franscini, ammira nei suoi viaggi
l'organizzazione e lo sviluppo economico della Svizzera interna che imputa
proprio a questa forma di governo -- è più pragmatico del romantico Mazzini -- è
un figlio dell'illuminismo, più legato a Verri che a Rousseau, e in lui è forte
la fede nella ragione che si mette al servizio di una vasta opera di
rinnovamento della communità. Pur essendogli state dedicate numerose logge
massoniche e un monumento realizzato a Milano dal massone Ferrari, una sua
lettera a Bozzoni, consente di escludere la sua appartenenza alla massoneria,
per sua esplicita dichiarazione, sovente in quel periodo tenuta segreta e
negata. Per lui scienza e giustizia devono guidare il progresso della
communità, tramite esse l'uomo ha compreso l'assoluto valore della libertà di
pensiero. Il progresso umano non deve essere individuale ma collettivo,
comunitario, attraverso un continuo confronto con l’altro. La partecipazione
alla vita della communita à è un fattore fondamentale nella formazione
dell'individuo. Il progresso può avvenire solo attraverso il confronto
collettivo comunitario. Il progresso non deve avvenire per forza o
autoritarismo, e, se avviene, avverrà compatibilmente con i tempi: sono gli
uomini che scandiscono le tappe del progresso. Nega il concetto di
“contratto” comunitario o sociale. Due uomini si sono associati per istinto. La
comunita, la diada, la società è un fatto naturale, primitivo, necessario,
permanente, universale -- è sempre esistito un federalismo delle intelligenze
umane -- è sorto perché è un elemento necessario di due menti
individuali. Pur riconoscendo il valore della singola intelligenza
monadica, afferma però, che più scambio, conversazione, dialettica, e confronto
ci sono, più la singola intelligenza monadica diventa tollerante dell’altro
nella diada. In questo modo anche la società e la comunita diadica e più
tollerante. Le due sistemi cognitivi dei individui della diada devono essere
sempre aperti, bisogna essere sempre pronti ad analizzare nuove verità.
Così come le due menti si devono federare, lo stesso devono fare gli stati
europei che hanno interessi di fondo comuni. Attraverso il federalismo i popoli,
le comunita, possono gestire meglio la loro partecipazione alla cosa pubblica.
La communita, il popolo deve tenere le mani sulla propria libertà. La comunita,
il popolo non deve delegare la propria libertà ad un popolo lontano dalle
proprie esigenze. La libertà economica è fondamentale per C. -- è la
prosecuzione della libertà di fare -- la libertà è una pianta dalle molte
radici. Nessuna di queste radici va tagliata sennò la pianta muore. La libertà
economica necessita di uguaglianza di condizioni. La disparità ci saranno ma
solo dopo che tutti avranno avuto la possibilità di confrontarsi nella
conversazione aperta. E un deciso repubblicano e una volta eletto
addirittura rinuncia ad entrare in parlamento rifiutandosi di giurare dinanzi
all'autorità e la forza del re. Viene richiamato quale iniziatore della
corrente di pensiero federalista in Italia. Fonda il periodico Il Politecnico,
rivista che divenne un punto di riferimento dei filosofi lombardi, avente come
intento principale l'aggiornamento tecnico e scientifico della cultura
nazionale. Guardando all'esempio della Svizzera cantonale (improntata alla
democrazia diretta), define il federalismo come "teorica della
libertà" in grado di coniugare indipendenza e pace, libertà e unità. Nota
al riguardo che abiamo pace vera, quando abiamo gli stati uniti dell’Europa,
alla svizzera. Cattaneo e Mazzini videro negli nella Svizzera l’unico esempio di
vera attuazione dell'ideale repubblicano. Federalista repubblicano laico di
orientamento radicale-anticlericale, fra i padri del Risorgimento, e alieno
dall'impegno politico diretto, e punta piuttosto alla trasformazione culturale
della società. La rivista Il Politecnico fu per lui il vero parlamento
alternativo a quello dei Savoia. In accordo con il Tuveri redattore del
Corriere di Sardegna, intervenne in merito alla questione sarda in chiave
autonomistica locale. In tal senso, denuncia l'incapacità ed incuranza del
governo centrale nel trovare una nuova destinazione d'uso al mezzo milione di
ettari (più di un quinto della superficie dell'isola) che avevano costituito i
soppressi demani feudali, sui quali le popolazioni locali esercitavano il
diritto di ademprivio, per usi civici. A lui è dedicato l'omonimo
istituto di ricerca. Altre saggi: “Scritti filosofici”; “Interdizioni
israelitiche”; “Psicologia delle menti associate” – questo saggio –
associazione -- non è stata completata e rimane allo stato di frammenti. Il
tema de saggio sarebbe dovuto consistere nel cercare un'interpretazione sociale
– diadica -- nello sviluppo dell'individuo o monada. La città – cittadino –
cittadinanza -- considerata come principio ideale delle istorie italiane;
Dell'India antica e moderna; Notizie naturali e civili su la Lombardia Vita di
ALIGHIERI (si veda) di Cesare Balbo Il Politecnico, Repertorio mensile di studi
applicati alla prosperità e coltura sociale e comunitaria; Dell'Insurrezione di
Milano e della successiva guerra. Rapporto sulla bonificazione del piano di
Magaldino a nome della società promotrice, In Lugano, Tipografia Chiusi. Le
cinque giornate di Milano di Carlo Lizzani -- interpretato da Giannini. C. e le
cinque giornate di Milano Secondo una
tesi, non comprovata e non accolta dai dizionari biografici, C. sarebbe nato a
Villastanza, frazione del comune di Parabiago in provincia di Milano. Certamente
più antica è la Villa prospiciente la Chiesa, sulla piazza ed attualmente in
proprietà del signor Luigi Gagliardi, cui è giunta per eredità dagli avi.
Un'insistente tradizione vuole che in questa casa, abbia avuto i natali
nientemeno che C.. Ma C. deve aver passato qui soltanto alcuni anni della sua
infanzia, ospite nei mesi estivi della famiglia amica ai propri genitori. Si
veda, a tal riguardo, “Storia di Parabiago, vicende e sviluppi dalle origini ad
oggi, Unione Tipografica di Milano. (Tortora), da Filosofico (Fusaro) Arch. Fant Milano Bertone, Camagni, Panara, La buone società:
Milano industria. Almanacco istorico d'Italia, Battezzatti. C. genealogy
project, su geni_family_tree. Il Famedio, su
del Comune di Milano; Lacaita, Gobbo, Turiel La biblioteca di C., Le
riforme illuministiche in Lombardia, articolo dal saggio introduttivo a Notizie
naturali e civili della Lombardia, come riportato da Pazzaglia in Antologia della
letteratura italiana, Il monumento
milanese che lo raffigura reca l'iscrizione, A C. -- La massoneria italiana, Mola, Storia della
Massoneria italiana dalle origini ai nostri giorni, Milano, Bompiani. Fonte:// manfredi
pomar.com/. l'Enciclopedia, alla voce
"Politecnico", in La Biblioteca di Repubblica, POMBA-DeAgostini; Petrone,
Massoneria e identità, Taranto, Bucarest; Fiorentino, Non proprio un modello:
gli Stati Uniti nel movimento risorgimentale italiano; Teodori, "C.,
Garibaldi, Cavallotti": i radicale anti-clericali, anti-papa, in
Risorgimento laico. Gli inganni clericali sull'Unità d'Italia, Rubbettino; M.
Politi, D. Messina, G. Pasquino, Teodori, Dibattito "Risorgimento
laico". Presentazione del saggio di Teodori, su Radio Radicale, Milano,
Fondazione Corriere della Sera. Tuveri, in Rassegna storica del Risorgimento; Ambrosoli
(scelta e introduz. di). C. e il federalismo, Roma, Ist. Poligrafico e Zecca
dello Stato, Archivi di Stato, Bobbio,
Una filosofia militante: studi su C., Einaudi, Torino; Campopiano, "C. e
La città considerata come principio ideale delle istorie italiane", in
"Dialoghi con il Presidente. Allievi ed ex-allievi delle Scuole
d'eccellenza pisane a colloquio con Ciampi", M. CampopianoL. Gori; Martinico,
E. Stradella, Pisa, La Normale. C. e Tenca di fronte alle teorie linguistiche di
Manzoni, in «Giornale storico della letteratura italiana; Colombo, Montaleone,
C. e il Politecnico, Angeli, Milano, Frigerio, dir. de Rougemont, Bruylant,
Bruxelles, Fubini, Gli scritti letterari di C., in Romanticismo italiano,
Laterza, Bari. Lacaita, L'opera e l'eredità di C., Feltrinelli, Milano. Puccio,
Introduzione a Cattaneo, Einaudi, Torino); C. nel primo centenario della morte,
antologia di scritti, edizioni Casagrande, Bellinzona, Antonio Gili, Pagine
storiche luganesi, Arti grafiche già Veladini, Lugano; Lacaita, Economia e
riforme in C., Ibidem; Cotti, C. in una lettera inedita di Lavizzari, C.:
studio biografico dall'Epistolario»; opera di Michelini (Milano, NED), C. scrittore, in
Manzoni e la via italiana al realismo, Napoli, Liguori, Cattaneo una biografia.
Il padre del Federalismo italiano, Garzanti, Milano; Il ritratto carpito di C.,
Casagrande, Bellinzona; Cattaneo federalista europeo, in «Il Cantonetto, Lugano,
Fontana Edizioni SA, Pregassona, L'istruzione educante nel pensiero di C., Carlo
Moos, Carlo Cattaneo: il federalismo e la Svizzera, Mariachiara Fugazza, Una
lettera inedita di Cattaneo a De Boni. La Repubblica Romana, Ibidem, Moos, C. in Ticino, Bollettino della Società Storica
Locarnese, Tipografia Pedrazzini, Locarno, Michelin Salomon, C.. Una pedagogia
socialmente impegnata, Messina, Samperi; Mario: C. Cenni. Cremona. Cantoni, Il
sistema filosofico di C., Milano; Torino: Dumolard, Matteucci, Romagnosi Cinque
giornate di Milano Federalismo in Italia, Ferrari (filosofo) Liceo di Lugano
Stati Uniti d'Europa Sostrato (linguistica) Università Ca. C. su Treccani Enciclopedie
on line, Istituto dell'Enciclopedia Italiana. C. in Enciclopedia Italiana,
Istituto dell'Enciclopedia Italiana. C.,
in Dizionario di storia, Istituto dell'Enciclopedia Italiana. C., su
Enciclopedia Britannica, C. in Dizionario biografico degli italiani, Istituto
dell'Enciclopedia Italiana. C., su siusa. archivi. beniculturali, Sistema
Informativo Unificato per le Soprintendenze Archivistiche. Opere C., su open MLOL, Horizons Unlimited
srl. Opere C., su storia.camera, Camera dei deputati. Raffaelli, C., in Il
contributo italiano alla storia del Pensiero: Economia, Istituto
dell'Enciclopedia Italiana, Colombo, C.,
in Il contributo italiano alla storia del Pensiero: Filosofia, Istituto
dell'Enciclopedia Italiana, Opere Scritti di C. in classicis; Scritti di C.:
testi con concordanze e lista di frequenza Indice Carteggi di C. Altro
Cronologia della vita di C. su storia dimilano. C. Il contemporaneo dei posteri
a cura del Comitato nazionale per le celebrazioni del bicentenario della
nascita Filosofia Letteratura Letteratura Politica Politica Risorgimento Risorgimento Categorie: Patrioti italiani Filosofi
italiani Politici italiani Professore Milano Lugano Scrittori italiani Personalità
del Risorgimento Positivisti Insegnanti italiani Filosofi della politica Repubblicanesimo
Linguisti italiani Sepolti nel Cimitero Monumentale di MilanoPolitologi
italiani Federalisti Deputati della VII legislatura del Regno di Sardegna Deputati
dell'VIII legislatura del Regno d'Italia Deputati della IX legislatura del
Regno d'Italia. Linguaggio e ideologia: la posizione di C., Comitato di
Redazione matania edoardo ritratto di c. xilografia, Matania, Ritratto di C.,
xilografia, di Prato La centralità della figura di C. nell’ambito della
cultura italiana giustamente ricollegata
al suo pensiero liberale e laico, agli studi giuridici che hanno contrassegnato
l’intera sua formazione, all’interesse verso l’etnografia e la psicologia
sociale. La sua personalità di studioso poliedrico e sfaccettato, fortemente
influenzata dalla cultura classicista e dalla filosofia dell’illuminismo, si è
concretizzata in varie forme tutte di grande rilevanza: il filosofo,
l’economista, il critico, lo storico, lo scrittore politico, il fondatore della
rivista Il Politecnico e, non da ultimo, il linguista. Nel quadro di
questa ricerca intellettuale così ricca e variegata un posto rilevante assumono
i suoi studi etnico-linguistici di impianto storico-positivo e i suoi progetti
politici orientati sul concetto di “nazionalità”. Con questo termine egli si
riferiva allo stesso tempo sia alla più alta e unitaria aggregazione culturale,
sia alla diretta partecipazione popolare allo sviluppo della società
civile. Proprio sugli interessi linguistici di C. concentreremo la nostra
attenzione mettendo in evidenza l’impulso che egli ha dato alla
costruzione dell’italiano come lingua comune che riflette il nesso tra la
vitalità della lingua e la vitalità culturale della nazione di cui la lingua
stessa è «il vincolo unitario in senso geografico e sociale» (Vitale), perché è
da essa che dipende la possibilità per gli italiani di partecipare al progresso
della cultura del proprio Paese. La forte coscienza del carattere comune della
lingua faceva sì che C. potesse prescrivere la rinnovabilità della lingua –
rifiutando quindi le angustie del purismo, i grecismi e i particolarismi
provinciali – e sostenere anche un’opposizione recisa, basata su una coerente
visione culturale di impronta europea, sia al neotoscanismo e al fiorentinismo
manzoniano, sia all’accademismo della Crusca, in nome di un principio di unità
di cultura e di vita civile nazionale. Questa impostazione spiega poi la
sua duplice posizione rispetto ai dialetti: da una parte riproponeva in termini
nuovi, non antitetici, i rapporti fra i dialetti e la lingua,
riconoscendo la validità dei dialetti in quanto depositari di un patrimonio
storico da preservare, apprezzando i valori riposti nelle culture popolari e
sottolineando anche il valore della letteratura dialettale; dall’altra però
considerava i dialetti come elementi superabili nel processo dialettico
fondativo della lingua comune, essendo consapevole che il coinvolgimento dei
parlanti nella lingua comune poteva avvenire nella misura in cui essi
riuscivano progressivamente ad abbandonare l’uso esclusivo del dialetto.
Il primo scritto di linguistica di C. è quello sul Nesso della nazione e della
lingua Valacca coll’italiana, pubblicato come parte di un lavoro più generale
che riguardava l’influenza delle invasioni barbariche sulla lingua italiana e
che non venne mai condotto a termine. Si tratta di uno studio sul passaggio
dalla società tardo romana a quella feudale e poi comunale, condotto sulla scia
dell’insegnamento di Romagnosi ma con una sostanziale differenza: mentre
Romagnosi tendeva a ridurre la storia della civiltà in storia degli istituti
giuridici e solo marginalmente si interessava di questioni linguistiche, C. già
in questo primo scritto – il cui carattere storico generale è evidente –
metteva al centro della sua trattazione il problema linguistico, considerando
la lingua come espressione della nazionalità e testimonianza delle vicende
della storia dei popoli. La funzione sociale e in senso lato
politica della lingua viene così enfatizzata con la finalità di studiare le
interconnessioni tra le cose, cioè gli anelli che compongono le catene sociali
che tengono uniti gli individui in quanto membri di una comunità: le parole,
che sono ricche di sottili significati, possono essere comprese pienamente solo
se situate in un contesto sociale più ampio di quello del loro svolgersi
immediato (Lewis). Il nucleo che tiene insieme le memorie individuali e
collettive è insomma costituito dalla lingua e l’esercizio della lingua
rafforza tale nucleo dal quale poi dipende in buona parte l’identità di un
popolo, la sua coscienza storica. In questo caso C. non si riferiva alla lingua
solo come insieme di regole sintattiche e di etichette fonologiche, ma anche
come modalità socialmente e regionalmente differenziata, dunque non la lingua
come sistema, bensì come norma e istituzione: «è nelle parole della lingua che
si condensano i path, i “sentieri” della memoria propri di ciascuna comunità» (Mauro).
Poli C. mostrò fin dagli anni giovanili grande interesse per l’opera di VICO,
anche grazie all’influenza che ebbero su di lui le opere di Romagnosi e Ferrari
che la interpretavano alla luce dell’antropologia laica dell’illuminismo.
Proprio dal saggio di Ferrari, Vico e l’Italie uscito a Parigi, egli prese
spunto per un saggio Sulla scienza nuova che pubblicò sul Politecnico nello
stesso anno. L’interesse per le età primitive e per la vita collettiva dei
popoli, il rapporto tra lingua e nazione denotano la presenza di motivi
vichiani, con i quali C. corresse certi eccessi del razionalismo settecentesco,
senza mai però rinunciare all’idea di progresso, e allo stesso tempo senza
farsi influenzare dagli aspetti teologici della filosofia di Vico. La sua
formazione illuminista lo portò a non condividere nessun mito del Risorgimento
romantico e spiritualista, a celebrare come maestro Locke contrapponendolo alle
fumosità dell’idealismo, ad avversare le posizioni di Rosmini, Gioberti e anche
Mazzini. L’illuminismo nella sua opera «si rivela sotto il carattere di
una radicale antimitologia» (Alessio). Rispetto al Romanticismo la posizione di
C. è contrassegnata da una sostanziale estraneità: giustamente Timpanaro osserva
che parlare – come spesso si è fatto – di un romanticismo di Cattaneo può
essere giusto se ci riferiamo al romanticismo come una categoria spirituale
generale, definendo romantico ogni forma di interesse per le età primitive, per
le tradizioni popolari e per il nesso lingua\nazione. Ma questo non ci deve far
dimenticare che per il Romanticismo inteso come movimento culturale
storicamente definito Cattaneo – come del resto anche Leopardi – mostrò sempre
un atteggiamento critico e distante motivato dalla sua avversione al
medievalismo, a quella concezione religiosa della vita che i romantici – sia
pure con sfumature diverse – condividevano e al modo ambiguo con cui veniva da
loro esaltato lo spirito popolare, inteso più come attaccamento alle tradizioni
locali e forma di ingenuità, che come aspirazione democratica. Sui
rapporti tra romani e barbari e sulle origini della lingua italiana C. tornò
diverse volte in altri scritti successivi quel saggio, sostenendo la
derivazione dell’italiano dal latino volgare e limitando al massimo l’influsso
delle lingue dei barbari sulla formazione dell’italiano, tanto più che secondo
lui il numero dei barbari dominatori era stato assai esiguo contrariamente a
quanto pensavano molti storici. Per valutare al meglio questa continuazione
dell’italiano dal latino volgare per C. era necessario tener conto anche
dell’influsso esercitato dalle antiche lingue dei popoli italici conquistati
dai romani (etrusco, umbro, celtico ecc..). Questa è l’importante teoria
del sostrato senza la quale è difficile ad esempio spiegare la varietà dei
dialetti italiani e che coinvolge soprattutto la fonetica piuttosto che il
lessico: non si tratta quindi di una generale mescolanza di lingue, ma della
stessa nuova lingua pronunciata in modo diverso in base ad abitudini fonetiche
precedenti che rimanevano vive perché radicate dall’uso dei parlanti. Gli studi
sull’origine dell’italiano sono importanti anche per spiegare la posizione che
C. ha assunto nel dibattito sulla questione della lingua, che ha avuto del
resto una grande rilevanza nella cultura italiana del tempo. C., infatti, non
vedeva una scissione tra il suo impegno di linguista militante e i suoi studi
di linguistica storica, al contrario riteneva lo studio storico delle lingue
come la base, e dunque il fondamento, della linguistica normativa. Di fronte al
problema di come la lingua italiana avrebbe dovuto essere formata e
regolarizzata, egli sosteneva una rigorosa battaglia antitoscana, svolta su due
fronti essenziali. Il primo era diretto – riprendendo una polemica che era
stata inaugurata dagli illuministi lombardi del Caffè – contro il modello
arcaico e passatista dell’Accademia della Crusca, che sosteneva una concezione
immobilistica della lingua, estranea a ogni innovazione e fondata sulla netta
scissione tra lingua e cultura. Il secondo fronte riguardava il modello
certamente più moderno e funzionale del Manzoni, ma che ai suoi occhi risultava
troppo accentrato e basato su un concetto di popolarità che egli non
condivideva: «la dottrina della popolarità da cui primamente si presero le
mosse, oramai non significa più che si debba agevolare l’intendimento e l’arte
della lingua agli indotti: ma bensì che si debbano raccogliere presso uno dei
popoli d’Italia le forme che, più domestiche a quello, riescono più oscure a
tutti li altri. Si intende un’angusta e inutile popolarità d’origine, non la
vasta e benefica popolarità dell’uso e dei frutti» In alternativa, C. opponeva
una forma di lingua che costituisse un punto d’incontro delle varie tradizioni
dialettali italiane in maniera da poter svolgere veramente una funzione
unificatrice della nazione. Una lingua, allo stesso tempo illustre, «insieme
austera e moderna» (Timpanaro), adeguata non solo alla cultura letteraria, ma
anche a quella scientifica e filosofica. Fin da quel primo articolo, cui
abbiamo già fatto riferimento, C. dimostra inoltre di avere due maggiori
capacità rispetto ad altri autori italiani suoi contemporanei. La prima era
quella di saper andare al di là dei ristretti confini nazionali, interessandosi
ad esempio delle lingue germaniche e del romeno. La seconda consisteva
nell’avere ben presente il principio che la comunanza di origine tra due lingue
è dimostrata dalla somiglianza delle strutture grammaticali, più che dei
vocaboli – principio che ricavava dalla nuova linguistica comparata di Bopp e
dei fratelli Schlegel che, proprio in quegli anni, erano diventati per lui
importanti interlocutori anche polemici e avevano impresso nuovi sviluppi alle
sue idee linguistiche. Biondelli pubblica sul Politecnico una serie di articoli
sulla linguistica indeuropea, recensendo anche importanti opere dei
comparatisti, informando così il pubblico italiano sui risultati scientifici da
loro raggiunti. Questi articoli hanno indotto C. a prendere una posizione
critica di fronte a questa corrente di studi e a scrivere il saggio Sul
principio istorico delle lingue europee. In questo saggio C. critica
l’idea che dall’affinità delle lingue fosse possibile ricavare una comunanza
d’origine dei popoli, perché era invece convinto che non ci fosse una
connessione essenziale tra affinità linguistica e affinità razziale e che la
linguistica e l’antropologia andassero attentamente distinte; inoltre credeva
che si fosse troppo insistito sull’unità dell’indoeuropeo, trascurando le
differenze tra le varie lingue dovute al sostrato. Guardava con sospetto
l’esaltazione orientalizzante che costituiva forse la conseguenza più effimera
e fuorviante del comparatismo indoeuropeo (Marazzini). Per Schlegel il sostrato
svolgeva soprattutto una funzione negativa corrompendo la perfetta forma del
sanscrito; per C., al contrario, la commistione del sanscrito con le lingue
europee primitive ha dato luogo a un innesto fecondo perché il sostrato
«rappresentava appunto il principio della varietà linguistica, non cancellata
dall’azione unificatrice esercitata dal popolo colonizzatore» (Timpanaro). La
parentela linguistica non è quindi nel sistema di C. identità di origine, bensì
il risultato di un lento e progressivo avvicinamento delle popolazioni, dovuto
all’istaurarsi fra di esse di rapporti politici, economici e culturali. Non si
tratta, quindi, di un punto di partenza, ma di arrivo: «Le lingue vive
d’Europa non sono le divergenti emanazioni d’una primitiva lingua comune, che
tende alla pluralità e alla dissoluzione; ma sono bensì l’innesto d’una lingua
commune sopra i selvatici arbusti delle lingue aborigene, e tende
all’associazione e all’unità. Se una volta in diverse parti d’Italia e delle
isole si parlò il fenicio, il greco, l’osco, l’umbro, l’etrusco, il celtico, il
carnico, e Dio sa quanti altri strani linguaggi, come tuttora avviene nella
Caucasia, la sovraposizione d’una lingua commune avvicinò tanto tra loro i
nostri vulghi, che ora agevolmente s’intendono tra loro. Il tempo che cangiò le
lingue discordandi in dialetti d’una lingua, corrode ora sempre più le
differenze dei dialetti; e lo sviluppo delle strade e la generale educazione
promovono sempre più l’unificazione dei popoli. Non è che una lingua
madre si scomponga in molte figlie; ma bensì più lingue affatto diverse,
assimilandosi ad una sola, divengono affini con essa e fra loro; e per poco che
l’opera si continui, o a più riprese si rinovi, divengono suoi dialetti e
infine mettono foce commune in lei. (C.) Sulla base di queste considerazioni, C.,
nell’ambito dell’acceso dibattito sulla monogenesi o poligenesi del linguaggio,
sosteneva una posizione particolare: rifiutava evidentemente il primo, ma allo
stesso tempo era anche distante da quel particolare tipo di poligenismo
sostenuto da Schlegel, che consisteva nel separare nettamente pochi tipi
linguistici originali dai quali sarebbero derivate tante lingue cosiddette
“figlie”. Per lui invece esistevano tante lingue primitive originarie che si
erano ridotte di numero, via via che le tribù avevano cominciato a unirsi in
aggregati più ampi. Non esistevano quindi – come per Schlegel – delle lingue
perfette fin dall’inizio (le lingue flessive); tutte le lingue avevano origini
umili o, come scriveva lui stesso, “ferine”. I modelli di questo modo di intendere
il poligenismo linguistico sono Epicuro, VICO e Cesarotti Sempre contro
Schlegel, rivendica la giustezza della teoria agglutinante secondo la quale
anche le forme flessionali più perfette e sofisticate derivavano
dall’agglutinazione di monosillabi che all’origine avevano una funzione
autonoma. E in quel articolo osserva infatti che le declinazioni della lingua
latina e greca potevano derivare da semplici nomi con un articolo affisso (C.).
Psicologia delle menti associate carlocattaneoeditoririuniti La polemica con
Schlegel riguardava anche la questione dell’origine del linguaggio: mentre per
il primo la flessione indoeuropea era dovuta sostanzialmente a un intervento
divino, per Cattaneo, l’origine del linguaggio non poteva che essere umana, e
su questo avrebbe mantenuto una posizione coerente anche negli scritti
successivi come le Lezioni di ideologia, dove, ad esempio, confutava il sofisma
di Bonald che negava all’uomo la facoltà di costruirsi un linguaggio. Su questo
tema come per tanti altri Cattaneo è vicino alla grande tradizione della
linguistica illuminista che con Locke e Herder aveva respinto recisamente la
concezione delle idee innate e l’origine divina del linguaggio (Prato) ed è del
tutto immune dalla concezione misticheggiante della linguistica tanto cara ai
romantici. Proprio nel Saggio sul principio istorico delle lingue europee,
C. si propone di verificare il rapporto tra fenomeni linguistici e tradizioni
culturali, considerando la ricerca linguistica in stretta correlazione con una
riflessione propriamente filosofica. L’analisi dei fenomeni linguistici non si
riduceva per lui solo a una raccolta estemporanea di dati ma si traduceva in
una vera e propria scienza sociale. Alla filosofia analitica degli Idèologues –
che era rappresentata per gli scrittori italiani soprattutto da Condillac e
Tracy – egli riconosceva senz’altro il merito di aver esaminato con acume e
precisione i problemi del linguaggio, inserendoli in una prospettiva il più
possibile concreta e razionale. Allo stesso tempo era tuttavia consapevole
anche dei suoi limiti, che consistono nell’aver indicato come proprio oggetto
di riflessione una figura di uomo dai caratteri astratti e indipendente dal
rapporto con i suoi simili. Proprio «la famosa ipotesi della ‘statua’
condillachiana gli appariva emblematica di un concetto destorificato della
natura umana» (Gensini). Non a caso alle conferenze tenute presso l’Istituto
Lombardo di Scienze e Lettere, C.volle dare il titolo di Psicologia delle menti
associate, dove il termine di “psicologia sociale” è inteso appunto in senso
antropologico sia come riflessione sull’uomo a partire dai rapporti che lo
legano agli altri suoi simili, sia come ricostruzione delle mentalità e dei
sistemi simbolici quale risultato di mediazioni sociali. In queste lezioni
Cattaneo osservava che il lievito che fa fermentare le idee non si svolge in
una mente sola perché «la corrente del pensiero vuole una pila elettrica di più
cuori e di più intelletti. (C.). La genesi delle idee, che Locke aveva
dimostrato scaturire dal linguaggio, in questa nuova prospettiva aperta da C.,
non può che radicarsi nella pratica sociale: «Nel commercio degli intelletti,
promosso da felici condizioni, si svolgono le idee, come nel mondo materiale,
al contatto delli elementi, si svolgono le correnti elettriche e le chimiche
affinità. (C.) Il linguaggio stesso è la società (C.), ed è proprio su questo
terreno che l’ideologia – ovvero l’analisi delle idee – iincontra la
linguistica. Ideologia è del resto il titolo di una parte del corso di
Filosofia che C. aveva tenuto presso il liceo di Lugano. Non a caso aveva
scelto questo titolo se consideriamo che per la sua chiara derivazione
illuminista, l’ideologia rappresentava la sola reale forma di opposizione al
conformismo della cultura del suo tempo perché l’ideologia era «un’arma
efficace per una filosofia democratica, atta ad opporsi alla marea montante
della filosofia restaurata, allo spiritualismo eclettico in Francia,
all’ontologismo cattolico in Italia» (Formigari). I principi che contrassegnano
l’intera ricerca di C. e che spaziano dal riconoscimento del valore del
pensiero scientifico, alla negazione della metafisica e alla difesa della
laicità, la rendono insomma pienamente aderente ai problemi e alle esigenze del
nostro tempo, oltre che aperta a ulteriori forme di sviluppo e
approfondimento. Dialoghi Mediterranei. Per un ritratto complessivo di C. e dei
rapporti con i suoi contemporanei rimandiamo a Alessio e Mazzali. Studiati in
particolare da Timpanaro. Si veda anche Gensini; Benincà; Geymonat. Negli
Annali universali di statistica, si leggono ora in C. Si trova in C. [Anche per
Giordani la lingua è il vincolo di una comunità che si identifica con la
nazione (Cecioni). Per esempio nella recensione alla Vita di Dante di Balbo
pubblicata sempre sul Politecnico(ora in C.) di cui viene criticato il
contenuto religioso e metafisico e la difesa del neo-guelfismo. Questa teoria
del sostrato come è noto verrà ripresa da Ascoli nei suoi celebri scritti
linguistici. Sul rapporto tra Cattaneo e Ascoli rimandiamo alle dense pagine di
Timpanaro e Timpanaro. Qui lo scrittore lombardo riprendeva un’idea ben
radicata nella cultura italiana e che risaliva al De vulgari eloquentia di
Dante. Su questo si può cogliere l’eco della Proposta di alcune correzioni ed
aggiunte al Vocabolario della Crusca del Monti che Cattaneo del resto aveva
letto fin da giovanissimo con passione e interesse. Sulla linguistica dei
comparatisti si veda Morpurgo Davies. Sulla funzione positiva svolta da Biondelli
per lo sviluppo degli studi linguistici in Italia vedi De Mauro. Per esempio la
Deutsche Grammatik di Jacob Grimm. Pubblicato sul Politecnico è certamente il
suo scritto linguistico-etnografico più ampio e originale. Qui C. fa
riferimento a Uber die Sprache und Weisheit der Indier, Sulle idee
filosofico-linguistiche di Schlegel vedi Timpanaro; In particolare su Cesarotti
e sul suo Saggio sulla filosofia delle lingue, che è stato per Cattaneo una
lettura importante vedi Gensini. Pubblicate postume da Bertani nella raccolta
di Opere edite e inedite, ora in C. Ideologia è del resto il titolo stesso di
una parte del corso di Filosofia che aveva tenuto presso il liceo di Lugano: si
trova ora in C.; Alessio, C. illuminista”, in C.; Benincà, “Linguistica e
dialettologia italiana”, in Lepschy; Bobbio, “Introduzione”, in C., Scritti filosofici,
Firenze, La Monnier, C. Scritti letterari, artistici, linguistici e vari, a
cura di A. Bertani, Firenze, Le Monnier. C. Scritti filosofici, letterari e
vari, a cura di F. Alessio, Firenze, Sansoni; C., Scritti filosofici, a cura di
N. Bobbio, Firenze, Le Monnier. C., Scritti su Milano e la Lombardia, a cura di
E. Mazzali, Milano, Rizzoli. Cecioni, Lingua e cultura nel pensiero di Pietro
Giordani, Roma, Bulzoni. Mauro, Idee e ricerche linguistiche nella cultura
italiana, Bologna, Il Mulino. De Mauro, Il linguaggio tra natura e storia,
Milano, Mondadori Università. Formigari,L’esperienza e il segno. La filosofia
del linguaggio tra Illuminismo e Restaurazione, Roma, Editori Riuniti.
Formigari, L. e Lo Piparo, a cura di,
Prospettive di storia della linguistica. Lingua linguaggio comunicazione
sociale, Roma, Editori Riuniti. Gensini, Volgar favella. Percorsi del pensiero
linguistico leopardiano da Robortello a Manzoni, Firenze, La Nuova Italia.
Gensini, Cesarotti nei dibattiti linguistici del suo tempo”, in Roggia; Geymonat;
C. linguista. Dal “Politecnico” milanese alle lezioni svizzere, Roma, Carocci.
Lepschy, a cura di, Storia della linguistica, Bologna, Il Mulino; Lepschy, “Presentazione”,
in Timpanaro; Lewis, Prospettive di antropologia, Roma, Bulzoni. Marazzini, Conoscenze
e riflessioni di linguistica storica in Italia nei primi vent’anni
dell’Ottocento”, in Formigari e Lo Piparo, Mazzali, Introduzione”, in C. Morpurgo Davies, La linguistica, in Lepschy; Prato,
Filosofia e linguaggio nell’età dei lumi. Da Locke agli idéologues, Bologna, I
libri di Emil. Roggia, a cura di Cesarotti. Linguistica e antropologia nell’età
dei lumi, Roma, Carocci. Timpanaro, Classicismo e illuminismo nell’Ottocento
italiano, Pisa, Nistri-Lischi. Timpanaro, Sulla linguistica dell’Ottocento,
Bologna, Il Mulino. Vitale; La questione della lingua, Palermo, Palumbo. Almagià,
Anghiera, Pietro Martire d’, in Dizionario biografico degli italiani, Roma,
Istituto della Enciclopedia italiana; Baldi, L’origine del significato
romantico di ‘ballata’, in Id., Studi sulla poesia popolare d’Inghilterra e di
Scozia, Roma, Edizioni di storia e letteratura. Biondelli, Atlante linguistico
d’Europa, Milano, Rusconi-Chiusi. C., Epistolario, raccolto e annotato da Caddeo,
Firenze, Barbèra. Id.; Gli antichi Messicani, in Id., Scritti storici e
geografici, a cura di Salvemini e Sestan, Firenze, Le Monnier; Tipi del genere
umano, in Id., Scritti storici e geografici, a cura di Salvemini e Sestan,
Firenze, Le Monnier, Lezioni, in Id., Scritti filosofici, a cura di Bobbio,
Firenze, Monnier; On the origin etc. Sulla origine delle specie con mezzi di
scelta naturale, ossia la Conservazione delle razze favorite nella lotta per
vivere, di Darwin, Londra, in Id., Scritti letterari, a cura di Treves,
Firenze, Monnier; Id. Carteggi, serie I. Lettere di C., a cura di M. Cancarini
Petroboni e M. Fugazza, Firenze-Bellinzona, Monnier-Casagrande. Id.; Carteggi,
sLettere dei corrispondenti, a cura di C. Agliati, G. Albergoni e R. Gobbo,
Firenze-Bellinzona, Le Monnier- Mondadori-Casagrande. Cella, I gallicismi nei
testi dell’italiano antico, Firenze, Crusca. Cortelazzo; Zolli, Dizionario
etimologico della lingua italiana, Bologna, Zanichelli. Cotugno, «Rinascimento»
e «Risorgimento», in “Lingua e stile”; Ancona; Carteggio, D’Ancona-Mussafia, a cura di L. Curti, Pisa,
Scuola Normale Superiore; Filippi, L’uomo e le scimie, in “Il Politecnico”; Forcellini
E. Totius latinitatis Lexicon, Padova, Tipografia del Seminario, Bettinelli.
Foscolo, Epoche della lingua italiana, in Id., Opere, a cura di Puppo, Milano,
Mursia, Fugazza. C., Scienza e società, Milano, Angeli. Galton F., C., Osservazioni
meteorologiche sincrone fatte in Inghilterra e ridutte in forma di mappa dal
Sig. F. Galton di Londra, in “Il Politecnico”; Geymonat, C. linguista, Roma, Carocci, C. prepara le Lezioni di Ideologia a Lugano, in
“Nuova informazione bibliografica”; Gherardini, Voci e maniere di dire italiane
additate a’ futuri vocabolaristi, Milano; Bianchi. Id., Supplimento a’
vocabolari italiani, Milano, Bernardoni. Giovannetti, Nordiche superstizioni.
La ballata romantica italiana, Venezia, Marsilio. Lacaita, Gobbo, Priano.,
Laforgia (a cura di), Il Politecnico” di C.. La vicenda editoriale, i
collaboratori, gli indici, Lugano-Milano, Casagrande; Marazzini, L’ordine delle parole. Storia di vocabolari
italiani, Bologna, il Mulino. Mussafia, Reihenfolge der Schriften Ferdinand
Wolf’s, Wien, Hof- und Staatsdruckerei. Ramusio, Navigationi et viaggi,
Venezia, Giunti, vol. III Ranalli, Vite di uomini illustri romani dal
risorgimento della letteratura italiana, Firenze, Pagni. Romanini, Se fossero
più ordinate, e meglio scritte. Ramusio correttore ed editore delle Navigationi
et viaggi, Roma, Viella. Rusconi, Sopra i lai o canti degli anglo-normanni, in
“Giornale dell’I. R. Istituto Lombardo di scienze, lettere ed arti o Biblioteca
italiana”; Delle Lezioni tenute al Liceo di Lugano tra anni Cinquanta e
Sessanta, si analizzano le versioni preparatorie di un paragrafo dedicato
all’originarsi della poesia da canti e balli popolari, con particolare
attenzione alla cosiddetta ballata. Ciò consente di riconoscere in Cattaneo,
che in quel periodo ha ripreso l’attività di studio e divulgazione, il
perdurare d’interessi terminologici e il legame con dibattiti che avevano
coinvolto suoi maestri, colleghi e amici. Curiosità e passioni s’intrecciano
con letture, alcune delle quali avranno eco nella seconda serie de "Il
Politecnico", altre rimarranno limitate alla pratica didattica e si
possono in parte scoprire grazie agli appunti preparatori. Indice del saggio su
C. linguista – recensione Resurggimento.
Anche il latino
è lingua di
tutta Italia, ma
gl'Italici non sono tutti
romani. I dialetti ne sono
testimonianza. La serbata
integrità nativa delle
molteplici favelle del
Caucaso di fronte alle
indo-perse riflette l'imagine
di quelle che
popolano l'Italia innanzi
che la copre LO STRATO LATINO. Ne invasioni
armale, né importazioni
di civiltà, ne sovrapposizioni
di lingue alterarono
i confini etnografici
dei tusci, dei liguri, dei cisalpini, dei veneti e
d'ogni altra . Non conosciamo ancora le
svariate forme naturali
del nostro paese,
e nemmeno i
nostri dialetti e
le riposte loro
derivazioni. Non conosciamo i
secreti nessi che
collegano questa lingua nostra
alla civiltà precoce
della Persia e
dell' India, e
alla lunga barbarie
dell' antico settentrione. La filologia
puo classificare le duemila lingue e
dialetti morti e
vivi in famiglie,
come si costuma nelle
faune e nelle
flore. La scienza
della lingua è luce
aggiunta alla scienza
dei luoghi, dei
tempi e dei
monumenti, a rischiarare il
buio della storia. Per
lei si scoprono
le cause onde
i popoli comunicarono
tra loro con
certi modi peculiari
i propri pensieri. Per
lei si rileva,
da lieve indizio
di scrittura salvata,
una gente ignota
alla storia. Si sorprendono sorelle nazioni
che l' idioma apparentemente diverso
inimica e in un
dialetto si palesano
segni di origine
disforme e di ANTICHI ODII IN NAZIONE STIMATA OMOGENEA. Per
lei si assiste
al ritorno su
straniere labbra d'un
vocabolo esulato dalla patria
in età remota. Per
lei si rintracciano
in una valle
le reliquia di una
lingua fuggita dalla
pianura negl’ attriti del
commercio o della
conquista. Per lei si contemplas
il transito d'una favella
celebrata da una
letteratura e l'ascensione
d'oscuro dialetto del Lazio a
dignità di idioma
illustre in compagnia della fortuna
militare del popolo romano. Per
lei rilucono le affinità e
le diversità delle
lingue tutte. La nostra
lingua italiana ha una
nota affinità primamente
col latino -- e colla altra lingua
dal latino derivata: il francese. Queste lingue
viventi e li
innumerevoli loro dialetti
si classificano dai
linguisti sotto il
nome commune di
lingue romane o
romanze o latine. Come
una famiglia, si deduce
che i dialetti
e pronuncie provinciali
sono fili conduttori
ad un’origine prima. Si deduce
che la varietà dei
dialetti, delle pronuncie
e dell'aspetto degl’italiani trova esplicazione
e commento nella
varietà delle stirpi
e di quella lingua dei romani. Si deduce
che l'azione cementatrice
della lingua dei Romani s’ è
compiuta soltanto sovra
popoli barbari, e tali sono gl’ europei
alla comparizione delle
caste asiatiche; che
avendo raggiunto un
certo grado di
coltura, ì baschi
RESISTENO alla lingua dei Romani. Quando noi
troviamo nel tedesco
e nel gotico
la radice della
parola latina iraesagus,
dobbiamo indurre che qualche
antichissima relazione vi
fu tra li
avi dei Romani
e li avi
de' Goti. Nello stesso
modo in cui
possiamo riferire l'italiano ed il francese – o lingua gallica, come preferisco
-- alla commune loro
madre, la lingua
latina, o dei romani, come preferisco,
possiamo riferire il latino,,
il greco, il
sanscrito, il zendo
ad una commune
origine celata nella
notte dei tempi. Se
si paragona la lingua dei romani alle due lingue
sue figlie, l’italiano e il
gallico, si trova che
queste, cioè le
lingue moderne, hanno
maggior copia di
voci astratte. La lingua dei romani ha
la voce “fortis” -- ma non ha
la voce “forza.” Da
vir abbiamo della lingua dei romani la “virtus”,
l'italiano e il
francese virtù, vertu. Ma
l'italiano e il francese
hanno inoltre le
parole derivate “virtuoso”,
:virtuosamente”, vertueux, vertueusement; e
il francese ha
inoltre il verbo
évei^tuer. Le voci
italiane ente, entità,
essenza, essenziale, essenzialmente, se
vengono ricondotte alla
forma della lingua de romani: ens, entitas,
essentia, essentialis, essentialiter, non si
trovano mai nei romani antichi , ma
solo in quelli
dei bassi tempi. L’'inglese, che
per una metà
de' suoi vocaboli deriva
dall'antica lingua anglo-sassone e per
l'altra metà dalla lingua dei romani. Nelle lingue
indo-europee la radice
è quasi sempre
unisillaba. Una radice bisillaba
-- come animo, columna,
vidua, susurrus, titubare,
vacillare, oscillare tentennare, dondolare -- si puo considerare
o come raddoppiamento o
come derivazione di una voce
semplici più antiche. Nella lingua dei Romani, un verbo
semplice p. e.
mitto, fero, traho
colle sue inflessioni
di persona, di
numero, di tempo,
di modo, e
coi diversi casi
de' suoi participj. produce nella
sola forma attiva ,
circa un centinaio
dì inflessioni -- mitto,
mittis, mittens, missuriis
etc. etc. -- coir aggìuiìta
delle forme nella voce passiva --
mittor, mitteris, missus,
mittendus -- e dei nomi
ed aggettivi verbali
-- missio, missilis y missivus -- ne
forma duecento. Questo numero
può ripetersi tante
volte quanti sono
i verbi derivati
e composti, p.
e. mittito, AD-mitto,
A-mitto , eie. epperò
dalla sola radice
unisillaba di mitt-o
possono diramarsi tremila
suoni piu o
meno diversi, ciascuno
dei quali esprime
un'idea in qualche
grado modificata e
distinta. P. e. , nelle tre
voci mitto, misi,
mitfam, vi è
per lo meno
la differenza del
tempo; nelle voci missuris
e mittendis sono
espresse tutte quelle
idee che in
italiano significhiamo con
dire: a quelli
che manderanno , ovvero
a quelli che
devono essere mandati.
Cosicché qui tre
sillabe della lingua dei Romani equivalgono
da sette a
tredici sillabe nella lingua degl’italiani. Codesti tremila
vocaboli nell’ idioma
primitivo sono rappresentati
da una sola
sillaba: “mit.” È
come la quercia
rappresentata da una
ghianda. Qualunque sia
dunque la dovizia
delle forme nelle
lingue derivate, abbiamo questa
legge di linguistica
che le lingue
veramente primitive hanno
potuto consistere in
poche centinaia di
radici monosillabe. È un
fatto linguistico che la lingua dei Romani, la lingua madre, nel
propagarsi di paese
in paese e
nel venir adottate
da numerose persone,
hnnno perduto gran
numero delle loro
inflessioni. La lingua degl’italiani paragonata
alla lingua dei Romani, non
ha più i
verbi passivi, né
i participi futuri,
né i partecipali,
né il genere
neutro, e le
declinazioni dei nomi
sono ridutte a
due sole desinenze: singolare e
plurale. Per rilevare
le affinità non
basta paragonare isolatamente
una lingua con
un'altra, ma è
necessario ravvicinarla a
tutta la serie
delle lingue della
stessa famiglia. A prima
vista non appare
similitudine tra il vocabolo
dormire e il
tedesco traumen, che
vuol dire sognare. Ma
appare di più
nell’ inglese “dream”,
che ha le
stesse consonanti della lingua dei Romani e lo
stesso senso del
tedesco. Inoltre nelle due
voci della lingua dei Romani,
somniis e somnium,
e nelle italiane
“sonno” e “sogno”
si trova il
doppio senso di dormire
-- e sognare. La pronuncia
della lingua dei Romani e della lingua degl’italiani proviene dalle
loro origini, ossia dal
genio imitativo più o meno
delicato, dalli organi
vocali più o
meno flessibili, e
dalle abitudini passate
in tradizione. E
più facile mutare
il VOCABOLARIO dagl’italiani, dargli
una nuova lingua,
che mutare la
sua pronuncia. Questa
pronuncia sopravvive nei dialetti,
anche dopo che
le lingua e mutata. Ancora
oggi, la pronuncia e
il dialetto segnano
in Italia precisamente
i confini antichi
della Gallia Cisalpina
e della Carnia
con la Venezia ,
la Toscana e
la Liguria. In Italia, due
soli dialetti hanno
aspirazione: il toscano
e il bergamasco.
I due dialetti
più dolci (forse) sono
il veneto e
il siciliano, alle
opposte estremità dell'Italia. VICO
rinvenne nelle radici
latine le vestigia
d'una antica sapienza italica e fa essendo
a quei tempi
ignota ancora la
scienza linguistica e
non osservata la
consonanza della lingua dei
Romani col zendo e
col sanscrito, Vico
attribuì quella sapienza alli
aborigeni dell'Italia, e
perciò scrive il De antiqiiissima
Italorum sapientia et
latinae linguae originibus
emenda, a correttamente! Carlo Cattaneo. Keywords: cinque giornate,
community, communita, diada, monada, associazione, contratto sociale,
conversazione, psicologia filosofica, psicologia, sociologia filosofica, ego e
alter ego, logica e linguaggio, il latino, l’italiano di lombardia, il natale
di Cattaneo – regione Lombardia – provincia -- – Milano. Refs.: Luigi Speranza,
“Grice e Cattaneo” – The Swimming-Pool Library.
Grice e Cattaneo – filosofia
italiana – Luigi Speranza (Roma). Filosofo italiano. Grice:
“I love Cattaneo, but then you would, wouldn’t you – He reminds me of H. L. A.
Hart, and then *I* am reminded that Cattaneo translated Hart to Italian as a
pastime! What I like about Cattaneo is that instead of focusing on “Roman law”
and Cicero – he focuses on Pinocchio!”. Si laurea a Milano sotto Treves. Su
consiglio di Treves e Bobbio ha soggiornato al St. Antony's, criticando Hart,
professore di Giurisprudenza, di cui su suggerimento di Bobbio e Entreves ha
tradotto “Il concetto di legge”. Insegna a Ferrara, Milano, Sassari, Treviso. Analizza
l'evoluzione storica delle teorie della pena e le opere dei grandi giuristi
italiani. Membro della Società Italiana di Filosofia Giuridica e Politica. Altre
opere: Il concetto di rivoluzione nella scienza del diritto” (Milano); “Il
positivismo giuridico” (Milano); “Il partito politico nel pensiero
dell'Illuminismo e della Rivoluzione” (Milano); “Le dottrine politiche”
(Milano); Illuminismo e legislazione” (Milano); “Filosofia della Rivoluzione”
(Milano); “Diritto liberale” “Giurisprudenza liberale” (Ferrara); “Filosofia
del diritto, Ferrara); La filosofia della pena” (Ferrara); Delitto e pena”
(Milano); Il problema filosofico della pena, Ferrara); Stato di diritto e stato
totalitario, Ferrara); Dignità umana e pena nella filosofia di Kant, Milano); “Metafisica
del diritto e ragione pura, studi sul platonismo giuridico di Kant” (Milano);
“Goldoni ed Manzoni: illuminismo e diritto penale, Milano); “Carrara e la
filosofia del diritto penale, Torino); “Libertà e Virtù” (Milano); Pena,
diritto e dignità umana” (Torino); Diritto e Stato nella filosofia della
rivoluzione” (Milano); Suggestioni penalistiche”; “Persona e Stato di diritto
Discorsi alla nazione europea, Torino); Critica della giustizia, Pisa); L'umanesimo
giuridico penale” (Pisa); Pena di morte e civiltà del diritto” (Milano); Terrorismo
ed arbitrio, Il problema giuridico del totalitarismo, Padova); Il liberalismo
penale di Montesquieu” (Napoli); Dignità umana e pace perpetua, Kant e la
critica della politica” (Padova); “L’idolatria sociale (Napoli); “L’umanesimo
giuridico, Napoli); Kant e la filosofia del diritto” (Napoli); Diritto e forza.
Un delicato rapporto, Padova); Giusnaturalismo e dignità umana, Napoli); Dotta
ignoranza e umanesimo” (Napoli); La radice dell'Europa: la ragione, uno studio
filosofico-giuridico (Napoli). “Analisi del linguaggio e scienza politica”
(Filosofia del diritto); “Il concetto di rivoluzione nella scienza del diritto,
Milano, Istituto editoriale Cisalpino); “Il positivismo giuridico e la
separazione tra il diritto e la morale” (Istituto Lombardo di Scienze e
Lettere, Milano. Richiamo a istituti di diritto privato per la risoluzione del
problema dell'origine dello stato, in “La norma giuridica: diritto pubblico e
diritto privato, Atti del IV Congresso di Filosofia del diritto, Pavia, Milano,
Giuffre); “Il realismo giuridico” in »Rivista di Diritto Civile”; Alcune
osservazioni sui concetto di giustizia in Hobbes, in Il problema della
giustizia: diritto ed economia, diritto e politica, diritto e logica, Atti del
V Congresso Nazionale di Filosofia del Diritto, Roma (Milano, Giuffre); “Hobbes
e il pensiero democratico nella Rivoluzione inglese e nella Rivoluzione francese,
in »Rivista critica di storia della filosofia”; “Il positivismo giuridico
inglese: Hobbes, Bentham, Austin, Milano, Giuffre); Il partito politico nel
pensiero dell'illuminismo e della Rivoluzione francese, Milano, Giuffre); Le
dottrine politiche di Montesquieu e di Rousseau, Milano, La Goliardica Stampa);
Il positivismo giuridico, in »Rivista Internazionale di Filosofia del Diritto«,
“Il concetto di diritto” (Milano, Einaudi); “Considerazioni sul ‘significato’
della proposizione, ‘I giudice crea diritto«, in »Rivista Internazionale di
Filosofia del Diritto«; Illuminismo e legislazione, Milano, Edizioni di
Comunita); Leggi penali e liberta del cittadino, in »Comunita«, Montesquieu,
Rousseau e la Rivoluzione francese, Milano, La Goliardica); dispense del corso
di Storia delle dottrine politiche, Milano); Quattro Punti, in »Rivista
Internazionale di Filosofia del Diritto«, Liberta e virtu nel pensiero politico
di Robespierre, Milano-Varese, Istituto Editoriale Cisalpino); Considerazioni
sull'idea di repubblica federale nell'illuminismo francese, in »Studi
Sassaresi”,Liberta e virtu nel pensiero politico di Robespierre, Milano, Istituto
Editoriale Cisalpino); Filosofo e giurista liberale, Milano, Edizioni di
Comunita); Filosofia politica e Filosofia della pena, in Tradizione e novita
della filosofia della politica, Atti del Primo Simposio di Filosofia della
Politica, Bari, Bari, Laterza); Pigliaru: La figura e l'opera, testo della
commemorazione tenuta i125 giugno 1969 nell' Aula Magna dell'U niversita di Sassari,
in »Studi sassaresi«, Milano); Le elezioni e il liberalismo. Autonomia
dell'Universita e neo-corporativismo, in »La Rassegna Pugliese«, Anti-Hobbes,
ovvero i limiti del potere supremo e il diritto co-attivo dei cittadini contro
il sovrano (Milano, Giuffre); Anti-Hobbes o il diritto co-attivo dei cittadini
--; Considerazioni suI diritto di resistenza e liberalismo, in »Studi
Sassaresi«, Ill, Autonomia e diritto di resistenza, Milano); La dottrina penale
nella filosofia giuridica del criticismo, in Materiali per una Storia della
Cultura Giuridica, ICorso di filosofia del diritto, Ferrara, Editrice
Universitaria); La filosofia della pena nei secoli XVII e XVII: corso di
filosofia del diritto, Ferrara, De Salvia). Discutendo giurisprudenza con
Treves, pone il problema che sarebbe stato al centro di tutta la sua vita di
uomo impegnato nello studio, nell'insegnamento, nella vita civile. Interrogandosi
suI rapporto fra “rivoluzione” e “ordine giuridico”, vale a dire fra “fatto”
(de facto) e “diritto” (de iure), giunge alIa conclusione che da un punto di
vista epistemico-doxastico-giudicativo-conoscitivo-descrittivo non e possibile
distinguere tra ordine giuridico e regime di violenza, autoritatismo, perche il
diritto non e giusto per sua intrinseca natura, ma soltanto se e concretamente rivolto
ad attuare il valore del giusto e rispetto della persona umana. Il rapporto fra
forza autoritaria e la forza della legge, che da il titolo a uno suo
saggio, e la relazione fra diritto o gius come valore, costituisce infatti la
questione su cui non cessa mai di interrogarsi, nella prospettiva del
fondamento metafisico (escatologico, propriamente) del concetto di ‘giure’ non e
riducibile alla volizione o ragione pratica del legislatore propriamente
adgiudicato (alla Aristotele). In questo modo, C. indica la ricerca del giusto
come compito specifico della filosofia del diritto e pre-annuncia il suo
intero percorso filosofico caratterizzato da un assunto basilaro. La filosofia,
come assere Socrate, ha il suo carattere precipuo nel porre un problema
piuttosto che nel risolverlo o dissolverlo, e, come nel mito platonico della
caverna, l’analisi concettuale si muove suI piano della trascendenza
escatologica, diverso e superiore a quello della realta empirica o naturale. Anche
la filosofia giuridica, in quanto filosofia, e aperta alla escatologia metafisica
e, avendo come base la conoscenza del codice u ordine del diritto
romano-italiano *positivo*, pone il problema della sua valutazione escatologica
alIa luce del valore della dignita kantiana umana e del concetto di un “stato
di diritto”. Compito del filosofo non e dunque *descrivere* il diritto positive
fattico empirico esistente, ma conoscerlo per condurne una meta-analisi critica
al fine del suo adeguamento al modello ideale platonico socratico di giustizia
contro il neo-trasimaco di Hart. Il problema giuridico della rivoluzione. Il concetto di rivoluzione nella scienza e nel
diritto, Milano-Varese. Neokantismo nella filosofia del diritto di Treves, in
Diritto, cultura e liberta. Diritto e forza. Un delicato rapporto, Paova. La
filosofia del diritto: il problema della sua identita, in Filosofia del
diritto. Identita scientifica e didattica oggi, Cattania. IL tema del rapporto
tra Diritto e Letteratura è stato più volte trattato dal Prof. Mario Cattaneo
che ha pubblicato i seguenti saggi: ”Riflessioni sul <De Monarchia> di
Dante Alighieri”, “L’Illuminismo giuridico di Alessandro Manzoni” pubblicato
nelle Memorie del Seminario della Facoltà di Magistero di Sassari., “Goldoni e Manzoni.
illuminismo e diritto penale” e “Suggestioni penalistiche in testi letterari.
Nella Introduzione del volume su Goldoni e Manzoni rileva che i rapporti tra
diritto e letteratura e la discussione di problemi giuridici in opere
letterarie non sono stati in generale molto studiati; non mancano tuttavia
alcune ricerche concernenti soprattutto il diritto nel teatro Sono stati
compiuti degli studi sul significato giuridico di alcune opere di Shakespeare
daJhering e Kohler ed è stato esaminato il pensiero di
alcuni poeti tra cui in Italia soprattutto Dante del quale si sono occupati
Carrara, Vaturi , Vecchio, Mossini e lo stesso Cattaneo.
Vi sono importanti opere della letteratura europea che hanno affrontato
problemi giuridici rilevanti come il “Kolhaas” pubblicato da H. von
Kleist e “Delitto e Castigo” di
Dostoevskijj,l’ Autore rileva peraltro che la presenza di temi giuridici nella
letteratura è particolarmente rilevante nell’illuminismo data la sensibilità
civile di questo movimento. Il volume è dedicato all’esame degli aspetti
giuridici – soprattutto di diritto penale – di due grandi autori italiani:
Goldoni ed Manzoni. Cattaneo rileva l’accostamento tra i due grandi
letterati deriva da alcuni elementi di contatto: Goldoni passò l’ultima parte
della vita in Francia e vide il declino dell’ancien regime francese e Manzoni
trascorse parte della giovinezza in Francia nel periodo napoleonico. Goldoni
visse gli ultimi anni della sua vita a Parigi nei primi anni della Rivoluzione
francese ma non sappiamo come abbia seguito le fasi della stessa mentre Manzoni
li seguì e scrisse l’ode “Del trionfo della libertà” che manifesta le opinioni
del suo Autore e verso la conclusione della vita scrisse “La rivoluzione
francese e la rivoluzione italiana” un saggio che fu pubblicato postumo e che,
secondo C., è ispirato a sentimenti di libertà i due
scrittori hanno un orientamento differente Goldoni, bonario ed
ottimista, esamina gli aspetti gioiosi della vita pur con una punta di
satira e critica della società mentre Manzoni esamina gli aspetti essenziali e
drammatici della esistenza umana, sotto il profilo religioso Goldoni
risulta tiepido ed alquanto indifferente mentre Manzoni nelle sue opere
affronta il problema religioso. Cattaneo evidenzia che l’accostamento tra
i due letterati è già stata istituita da alcuni studiosi e cita l’opinione
espressa da Ferdinando Galanti che evidenzia che Goldoni diede all’ Italia
la nuova commedia, il ritratto della vita sulla scena, Manzoni è importante per
la nuova tragedia ed il romanzo lasciando un popolo di caratteri originali,
vivi e che rimarranno nella memoria di tutti come figure casalinghe, parlanti,
che saranno ereditate di generazione in generazione quale caro tesoro di
famiglia. Galanti ritiene che Manzoni abbia continuato, nel cammino della
verità, l’opera di Goldoni. Questo giudizio è ripreso da Federico
Pellegrini in uno scritto che indica come elemento comune <il rispetto della
natura> e ricorda i giudizi favorevoli di Manzoni su Goldoni in materia di
lingua. Pellegrini rileva che nelle Commedie di Goldoni come nei Promessi Sposi
l’esuberanza della fantasia non offende la sobrietà dell’insieme e vi è una
processione di personaggi buoni e cattivi al di sopra dei quali vi è una
idealità: la vittoria del bene sul male, questo è la morale di tutti i drammi.
Pellegrini raffronta ed accosta i personaggi delle opere dei due
letterati e conclude affermando che: i geni si incontrano. Il Mazzoleni ha
istituito un confronto fra “I Promessi Sposi” e “La Putta onorata”
commedia in cui Bettina, fidanzata di Pasqualino, viene rapita dal marchese
Ottavio. Le coincidenze tra le due opere peraltro escludono l’influsso di
Goldoni su Manzoni, per cui vi è affinità non dipendenza. Il Petronio nel
suo libro ”Parini e l ‘illuminismo lombardo” mette in rilievo che. “ben quattro
volte l’Italia ha tentato una letteratura realistica”: “Una prima volta con l’illuminismo,
col Parini e Goldoni; una seconda con il romanticismo lombardo, i tentativi
generosi del Berchet nel verso e i risultati luminosi del Manzoni nella prosa;
una terza col verismo meridionale e la soluzione geniale ma singolare, senza
seguito, del Verga; una quarta in questo secondo dopoguerra” Passarella ha
associato Goldoni, Manzoni e Collodi nel suo studio “Goldoni filosofo” ed ha
definito i tre letterati “i più grandi umoristi del mondo” scrivendo che
“Mentre Manzoni narra di lotte intime di uomini travolti dalla malvagità e
Collodi sorride delle cadute e degli sforzi di quel Pinocchio fatto di legno ed
emotivo e vivo di tutti gli elementi dell’essere umano, sintesi di tutta
l’umanità aggrappantesi sulla ripida china che conduce a essere degni di
chiamarsi umani, il sorriso col quale Goldoni guarda i suoi attori dice che il
suo problema è la socialità: scontri ed incontri, beffe e incomprensioni,
cadute e risollevamento nelle opinioni altrui” C. evidenzia anche
che un breve cenno comparativo tra Goldoni e Manzoni sotto il profilo giuridico
è svolto anche daJemolo il quale scrive a riguardo che Goldoni, che aveva
studiato giurisprudenza, cercò nella commedia “L’Avvocato veneziano” di darci
una figurazione di avvocato virtuoso, per cui la toga è davvero una divisa di
soldato: Manzoni nel mondo del diritto non ci ha lasciato che la immagine
imperitura di Azzecca-garbugli, il ricordo caricaturale delle Gride dei
Governatori e quello del conte-zio, alto burocrate del suo tempo, il quadro
atroce dei giudici della Colonna infame. Padoan ha rilevato in un suo
scritto che anche oggi, e non senza qualche ragione, potremmo indicare in
Goldoni una polemica contro l’ozio nobiliare, anteriore al Parini; un
atteggiamento di interesse verso il mondo degli umili, che non fu senza
influenza sul Manzoni. C. conclude l’introduzione al volume affermando che
le citazioni prima esposte sono sufficienti a giustificare la trattazione dei
due autori in un unico volume , la sua analisi prende in considerazione la
visione del problema giuridico dei due scrittori ed analizza il pensiero
giuridico nelle sue premesse di fondo.nelle sue fondazioni filosofiche, nella
misura in cui fare questo è possibile; a tal fine ritiene che l’elemento
unificatore dei due autori in relazione al diritto, indicato anche nel titolo è
l’illuminismo L’autore evidenzia che nel Goldoni avvocato,
difensore della professione forense, che mette in rilievo diversi problemi
giuridici in molte sue commedie, si risente, in modo non marcato, l’influenza
dell’Illuminismo, che è la radice della sua satira sociale, della sua garbata
critica della nobiltà e delle disuguaglianze sociali, come in Manzoni critico
della giustizia umana e della incertezza giuridica, che satireggia i pubblici
funzionari e gli avvocati, raccogliendo l’eredità del grande nonno Beccaria.
C. ritiene che, oltre le apparenti differenze,.<< sia rintracciabile, nel
pensiero di Goldoni e di Manzoni, il filo conduttore dato dai principi
fondamentali dell’illuminismo giuridico, principi che si possono individuare
essenzialmente nella certezza del diritto e nella dignità della persona umana.
L’autore riferisce degli Studi su Goldoni avvocato rilevando che la critica ha
tenuto presente in modo primario del significato letterario delle sue
opere un breve cenno agli studi giuridici di Goldoni era stato fatto da
un grande recensore contemporaneo al commediografo Schiller nelle due
recensioni alla traduzione tedesca dei “MÉMOIRES.” nella
letteratura italiana Zanardelli, importante esponente dell’Italia
risorgimentale, cita Goldoni in alcuni passi del volume “L’Avvocatura”
soffermandosi sulla figura della commedia “L’Avvocato veneziano” delineato come
il tipo ideale dell’avvocato. Gli scritti italiani più importanti dedicati
a Goldoni avvocato, scarsamente ricordati nelle bibliografie goldoniane,
sono opere di due studiosi parenti di C. Il primo è l’articolo “Goldoni
avvocato” di Pascolato il secondo è di Cevolotto, avvocato di Treviso Pascolato
rifiuta la tesi che Goldoni sia stato un dilettante della giurisprudenza ed
afferma la reale e profonda cultura giuridica attestata dall’esercizio
dell’attività forense a Pisa dove vinse persino tre cause in un mese e che
evidenziano il carattere schietto e buono anche in mezzo ai volumi dei dottori;
Cervolotto esamina gli studi giuridici di Goldoni di tre anni a Pavia, ad Udine,
la sua attività di coadiutore del cancelliere criminale a Chioggia e la sua
laurea in legge a Padova. Un capitolo è dedicato alla attività professionale a
Pisa dove esercitò più nel criminale che nel civile. Il penultimo capitolo è
dedicato all’esame degli aspetti giuridici delle commedie goldoniane specie la
commedia “L’Avvocato veneziano” che costituisce una esaltazione del foro veneto
e altre note commedie. Cervolotto ritiene che Goldoni fu senza dubbio giurista,
oltre che avvocato di valore non certo mediocre o comune evidenziando i buoni
studi benché saltuari da lui compiuti e la sua conoscenza di molte questioni
giuridiche presenti nelle sue opere. Cattaneo cita anche gli studiCozzi e
di Zennaro Il secondo capitolo è intitolato “Goldoni, la procedura
criminale e Il problema penale” e C. riporta un passo dei “Mémoires” di
Goldoni che tratta il tema della procedura criminale ed è commentato dal
Pascolato che rileva che <<quella procedura criminale, colla continua
ricerca della verità, coll’assiduo studio dei caratteri, lo aveva ammaliato: è
una lezione interessantissima per lo studio dell’uomo. Di verità e di caratteri
Goldoni faceva allora provvisione per i giorni, ancora lontani, della sua
gloria. E intanto voleva diventare cancelliere Goldoni sottolinea la
presenza nel diritto vigente di limiti posti all’inquisizione dell’imputato, a
tutela di questi ma non appaiono nelle sue opere chiari intenti riformatori
della procedura criminale. IL terzo capitolo è intitolato “L’Avvocato veneziano:
Goldoni fra diritto civile e diritto naturale” C. rileva che Goldoni stesso
mette in rilevo i due fondamentali temi della commedia: la difesa della
onorabilità della professione forense mettendo in scena la figura di un
avvocato onesto ed onorato e la contrapposizione di due sistemi giuridici e
giudiziari, quello di diritto comune e quello veneto, dando a quest’ultimo la
preferenza; la commedia come è stato evidenziato da alcuni studiosi,
rompe una tradizione letteraria e teatrale di derisione e messa in cattiva luce
della figura dell’avvocato, dell’uomo di legge che troveremo invece nella
figura completamente negativa del dottor Azzeccagarbugli ne “I Promessi
sposi” Il quarto capitolo si intitola “Il giusnaturalismo
illuministico di Goldoni: La Pamela e altre opere” C. rileva che le
radici illuministiche e giusnaturalistiche del Goldoni si manifestano in
rapporto alla procedura penale, al diritto penale, al problema delle fonti del
diritto, ai rapporti fra la funzione del giudice e le opinioni dei giuristi. Il
giusnaturalismo e l’Illuminismo di Goldoni si manifestano soprattutto nelle
opere teatrali aventi come oggetto, o come sottofondo, il tema fondamentale
della uguaglianza fra gli uomini, al di là delle differenze fra le classi
sociali. Tra le opere significative per questa prospettiva giuridica teatrali
emergono “La Pamela”, “Il Cavaliere e la Dama”, “Il Feudatario” “Le femmine
puntigliose” il dramma giocoso per musica “I portentosi effetti della Madre
Natura” e la tragicommedia (così definita dall’autore stesso) in versi “La
bella selvaggia” che trattano il contrasto tra natura e società, infine la
commedia in versi “La peruviana” che vengono esaminate negli aspetti più
essenzialmente rilevanti sotto il profilo filosofico-giuridico
dall’autore che conclude il capitolo affermando che: “Quando si
trattava dei valori supremi, come la pace, anche Goldoni sapeva essere
religioso e invocare la grazia del cielo” La seconda parte del volume è
dedicata all’analisi di Alessandro Manzoni. Il primo capitolo si intitola
“Studi su Manzoni e il diritto” e Cattaneo passa in rassegna gli studi
esistenti dedicati espressamente ed esclusivamente o all’idea di giustizia nel
pensiero di Manzoni, o agli aspetti giuridici della sua opera. L ‘autore
commenta il lungo articolo di Zino, “Il diritto privato nei “ Promessi Sposi”,
esamina poi l’articolo di Alessandro Visconti “Il pensiero storico-giuridico di
Alessandro Manzoni nelle sue opere”.. Il più importante e più completo studio
sul pensiero giuridico di Manzoni è il volume di Roberto Lucifredi. “Manzoni e
il diritto”. Tale volume si conclude con alcune considerazioni generali sulla
mentalità giuridica di Manzoni e Lucifredi ritiene che Manzoni era molto dotato
per lo studio del diritto e sarebbe divenuto un ottimo cultore delle discipline
giuridiche, un ottimo magistrato, un ottimo avvocato nel senso più nobile della
parola e della funzione.. Nel 1939 Fortunato Rizzi ha pubblicato il volume
“Alessandro Manzoni. Il Dolore e la Giustizia” di cui la terza parte è
dedicata al problema della giustizia. Nel 1942 è uscito il saggio di Opocher “
Il problema della giustizia nei Promessi Sposi” in cui ribadisce che
tutto il capolavoro manzoniano è essenzialmente un poema sulla giustizia e
conclude affermando: ”I Promessi Sposi non costituiscono soltanto la storia
attraverso cui la Provvidenza sana le sofferenze del giusto, ma anche, e vorrei
dire soprattutto, la storia attraverso cui la Provvidenza feconda queste
sofferenze, facendone lo strumento della redenzione degli oppressori” Nel 1961
il Tanarda ha pubblicato uno scritto “Il diritto nell’opera di Alessandro
Manzoni” in cui ribadisce che Manzoni era cresciuto in una famiglia
coperta da una grande aureola giuridica, nipote di Cesare Beccaria, familiare
dei Verri, amico di Rosmini; per lo scrittore lombardo l’uso del diritto autentico
non può mai contrastare con la morale. Concludo ricordando la strenna
natalizia dell’editore Giuffrè pubblicata in occasione del bicentenario
manzoniano con il titolo “<Se a minacciare un curato c’è penale>”Il
diritto nei Promessi Sposi” con saggi di noti docenti quali E. Opocher e Cotta.
In “Valori morali, giustizia, diritto
naturale” C. ritiene opportuno esaminare la concezione manzoniana della
giustizia, anche nelle sue premesse teoriche sulla base sia di alcuni brani, di
pensieri inediti e di scritti di sapore filosofico. Dalla analisi di due
postille redatte da Manzoni e da un brano scritto dallo stesso C. deduce che il
grande scrittore lombardo esalta la tesi della certezza delle verità morali,
tra le quali l’idea del giusto istituendo un paragone tra verità morali e
verità matematiche. Secondo C. questo brano manzoniano è affine alla
dottrina platonica delle idee espressa nel dialogo “Parmenide” , vi è
inoltre una affinità con Kant che afferma che non è cosa assurda pretendere di
far derivare il concetto di virtù dall’esperienza, perché ciò significherebbe
fare della virtù qualcosa di ambiguo e di mutevole secondo le circostanza. In
realtà è sulla base della idea di virtù che si giudicano gli esempi
empirici di virtù e di comportamento morale. L’Autore richiama anche la
filosofia di Rosmini, il più grande filosofo italiano, la cui filosofia si
fonda sull’idea dell’essere e cita un brano del “Nuovo saggio sull’origine
delle idee” .Va anche evidenziato che Manzoni ribadisce una sostanziale e
piena identità fra morale e religione, come si rileva dalle “Osservazioni sulla
morale cattolica “ dedicato alla critica della distinzione fra filosofia morale
e teologica. Cattaneo sottolinea che per Manzoni le leggi umane non raggiungono
mai la giustizia, viceversa, la religione conduce naturalmente alla giustizia,
senza ostacoli, perché si appella alla coscienza, perché porta a dare
volontariamente (in vista di un bene futuro), il che non provoca opposizioni,
ma solo ringraziamenti e benedizioni. In “Le gride e l’illuminismo
giuridico ne < I Promessi sposi>”. C. rileva che se il problema
morale e religioso della giustizia pervade tutta l’opera di Manzoni, ed in
particolare il suo celebre romanzo, Stampa, figliastro dello scrittore
lombardo, narra che Manzoni dichiarò che la prima idea del suo romanzo gli
venne dalla lettura della grida fatta vedere dal dottor Azzeccagarbugli a
Renzo, nella quale sono minacciate pene contro coloro i quali <con tirannide>
e con minacce costringono un prete a non celebrare un matrimonio.
Dall’esame dei brani di ”Fermo e Lucia” e dei “I Promessi sposi” risulta
che Manzoni muove una pesante critica al sistema, in quei tempi diffuso, di
consorterie e di caste, inoltre, descrivendo criticamente la società e la
situazione giuridica di Milano sotto la dominazione spagnola, indica
chiaramente il modo in cui le leggi penali non dovrebbero essere e le
caratteristiche che le stesse non dovrebbero avere Il risultato pratico
di quella legislazione è da un lato l’impunità del colpevole e dall’altro
la vessazione degli innocenti e dei privati indifesi da parte
dell’autorità Manzoni raccoglie l’eredità dell’Illuminismo giuridico
nella critica alla proliferazioni delle leggi e dell’incertezza giuridica, che
può sorgere sia dalla mancanza di determinazione precisa delle fattispecie
penali, sia dalla enumerazione eccessivamente prolissa dei delitti, a questa
critica è connessa la denuncia dell’arbitrio degli esecutori della legge, che
possono aumentare a capriccio le pene delle gride ed ai quali è sottoposta ogni
mossa dei cittadini Lo scrittore lombardo critica anche la comminazione
di pene sproporzionate, misura considerata ingiusta ed inefficace per la
prevenzione dei crimini, l’impunità dei colpevoli è indicata dagli illuministi
come il risultato pratico che spesso deriva dalla eccessiva severità o crudeltà
delle pene. Il quarto capitolo si intitola “La critica
dell’utilitarismo e della prevenzione sociale”. Cattaneo sottolinea che la
sfiducia di Manzoni nella giustizia penale umana si traduce in un atteggiamento
critico verso la prevenzione generale come compito e funzione della pena, che
si riscontra in numerosi passi de “I Promessi Sposi”; l’autore cita a proposito
il brano del capitolo V in cui è inserita la conversazione alla tavola di Don
Rodrigo, a cui assiste Padre Cristoforo, relativa al tema della carestia. Il
conte Attilio raccoglie la tesi che la carestia dipenda dagli intercettatori e
dai fornai che nascondono il grano e ribadisce che bisogna impiccare senza
misericordia tali delinquenti senza processi, in tal modo il grano sarebbe
saltato fuori da tutte le parti.. Questo brano rappresenta la mentalità
violenta ed aggressiva che sta alla base della teoria della pena come
<esempio>, cioè una pena esemplare esorbitante rispetto alla effettiva
colpevolezza del reo, mirata esclusivamente a <dare un esempio> agli
altri, per uno scopo sociale ed utilitaristico; in tal modo viene peraltro
giustificata la punizione dell’innocente. In altri passi del celebre
romanzo manzoniano si rileva un atteggiamento mirato ad indicare non solo
l’ingiustizia ma anche l’inefficacia e l’inutilità della prevenzione generale,
unitamene ad una condanna della moltiplicazione dei supplizi, che finisce per
favorire l’impunità, come messo n evidenza dagli scritti di molti giuristi
illuministi. Significativo è a riguardo la conversione dell’Innominato e le
ragioni per cui il potere pubblico non intende procedere contro lo stesso per i
suoi passati delitti, in al modo viene dimostrata l’inefficacia della punizione
nel caso di una persona che ha cambiato vita perché questa potrebbe avere solo
l’effetto opposto a quello voluto Nel penultimo capitolo il commento di
Manzoni sulla situazione del bando di Renzo dal Ducato di Milano dopo le
vicende della giornata di San Martino denota la tesi dell’impunità come
risultato dell’eccessiva proliferazione di minacce legislative e del carattere
esorbitante, situazione che porta ad una frattura tra il comando legislativo e
l’esecuzione della pena. C. conclude istituendo un parallelo sostanziale
ed oggettivo (se pure a qualcuno potrà apparire sforzato) tra Manzoni e Kant,
dato che: “la visione della morale, nonché del diritto, ed in particolare
del diritto penale è svolta in una prospettiva anti-empiristica e
ani-utilitaristica, ed è caratterizzata da un <liberalismo cristiano >,
vòlto a difendere la persona umana da ogni prevenzione collettivistica e
<sociale>” Il quinto capitolo si intitola“ La storia della
Colonna Infame” L’autore ribadisce che il motivo fondamentale della
critica conto la ragione di stato, contro l’utilitarismo sociale, contro il
prevalere dell’interesse generale e sociale sui diritti individuali sta
alla base dello scritto “Storia della Colonna Infame” due anni dopo l’edizione definitiva de “I
Promessi Sposi”.. Di recente tale opera ha sollevato critiche severe sotto il
profilo storiografico e si è accusato il Manzoni di non essere uno storico, ma
di guardare alla storia da moralista, sul modello del cosiddetto
<astrattismo> illuministico settecentesco, e quindi di non studiare le
vicende storiche con partecipazione e simpatia ma di giudicare i comportamenti
umani secondo un codice morale superiore Tale critica è stata formalizzata da
Benedetto Croce . Dopo una lunga ed attenta analisi dello scritto e di
alcuni dei suoi maggiori studiosi C.conclude che i punti di vista in relazione
ai quali il volume manzoniano ha dato un importante contributo sono tre:Manzoni
ha dato un contributo alla comprensione della storia, affermandone la non
inevitabilità e questo punto ha suscitato le maggiori discussioni
interpretative e le reazioni negative dei seguaci dello storicismo. Tale
scritto manzoniano, come ha sottolineato Rovani, <non è per nulla inferiore
alle altre opere del Manzoni, anzi rivela il suo ingegno e la sua dottrina e la
profonda sua acutezza anche nelle materie giuridiche> Tale scritto è
un’opera giuridica, è senza dubbio la più giuridica del Manzoni. Il significato
più importante del saggio è quello morale, come rilevato da Tenca, Rovani e
Passerin d’Entreves e consiste nella difesa del libero arbitrio, della libertà
del volere e nella rivendicazione della responsabilità morale dell’uomo.
Libertà interiore dell’uomo, responsabilità morale, dignità umana; questo è il
trinomio in cui Manzoni fonda la sua lezione morale o, come potremmo dire, la
sua lezione etico-giuridica Il sesto capitolo si intitola “Manzoni
e la criminologia” L’autore evidenzia che l’analisi della “Storia della
Colonna Infame” ha portato a mettere in rilievo l’idea del libero arbitrio
dell’uomo quale elemento centrale dell’impostazione manzoniana dei problemi
giuridico-penali, della sua condanna dell’operato dei giudici milanesi. Vi sono
studiosi come Graf e Sergi che hanno creduto di vedere in tale opera di
Manzoni ed in alcune figure di criminali de “I Promessi Sposi” dei
precorrimenti delle correnti criminologiche sviluppatesi nell’ambito della
Scuola positiva di diritto penale, che, rileva Cattaneo, ha respinto l’idea del
libero arbitrio dal problema dell’imputabilità penale ed ha seguito la strada
del determinismo. L’autore esamina in particolare lo scritto di C Leggiadri
Laura “Il delinquente ne <Promessi Sposi> rivolto ad interpretare il
pensiero manzoniano in chiave naturalistico-deterministica e lo
scritto del Preve “Manzoni penalista” che segue l’interpretazione del Leggiadri
Laura e delinea nelle figure dei criminali del romanzo i tipi classificati
dalla scienza lombrosiana. Dopo un attento esame critico di numerosi passi
delle opere dei due autori prima citati e di altri studiosi C. conclude
che non ritiene valida la concezione di Manzoni come precursore del positivismo
penale e criminologico, dato che per i positivisti non è questione di giustizia
e di libertà del volere, bensì di determinismo e di difesa sociale. In “Manzoni
teorico generale del diritto?”, secondo C., la forma mentis giuridica di Manzoni appare
evidente anche negli scritti storici e storico-giuridici, in particolare essa
si manifesta in modo tipico nel “Discorso sur alcuni punti della storia
longobardica in Italia” oltre che nello scritto postumo sulla Rivoluzione
francese. C. mette in evidenza un aspetto meno noto che è peraltro presente nel
libro: le osservazioni concernenti il rapporto tra Romani e Longobardi e le
leggi regolanti la loro convivenza, osservazioni che sono di natura di una teoria
generale del diritto. Le osservazioni riguardano in particolare la
concessione data agli Italiani di vivere secondo la legge romana che fu
considerata dal Muratori <un bel tratto di clemenza, e una prova, fra le
mole, della dolcezza e saviezza dei conquistatori longobardi> Manzoni
dimostra una sensibilità moderna perché si preoccupa secondo C. di rendersi
conto di come fosse strutturato l’ordinamento giuridico sotto i Longobardi e
evidenzia la <struttura a gradi> dell’ordinamento giuridico, per dirla
come Kelsen e definisce alcune norme <leggi costituzionali>, le
leggi così designate sono le <norme di competenza> di Ross e le norme
secondarie di Hart, cioè le norme che conferiscono il potere di emanare,
modificare, abrogare le altre norme, concernenti direttamente il comportamento
dei cittadini. Manzoni si preoccupa di esaminare quali fossero le norme di
statuto, di competenza o secondarie, espressione del potere longobardo, le
quali regolavano la permanenza delle leggi romane, che regolavano il
comportamento dei cittadini di origine romana. L’ottavo capitola si
intitola “Manzoni e la Rivoluzione francese” Il rapporto tra Manzoni e la
Rivoluzione francese durò in varie forme per tutta la vita del letterato
lombardo. Questi visse molti anni in Francia nel periodo napoleonico, scrive il “Trionfo della Libertà“ un poemetto
di sentimenti giacobini ed anti-monarchici con la condanna delle spietate
repressioni penali. Nel ”5 Maggio” Manzoni fornisce un giudizio equanime su
Napoleone dapprima glorioso e poi rapidamente caduto e rileva la caducità
degli idoli umani Nel dialogo “Dell’Invenzione” Manzoni esamina la
figura di Robespierre ed abbandona il cupo giudizio di <mostro> del
politico francese pur non abbandonando la tesi di una responsabilità avuta da Robespierre
nel Terrore ridimensionata dalle moderne storiografie Lo studio che
esprime nel modo più chiaro il rapporto di Manzoni con la Rivoluzione francese
è il saggio pubblicato postumo a cura di Ruggero Bonghi “La rivoluzione
francese e la rivoluzione italiana”
I motivi su cui si basa La critica di Manzoni alla Rivoluzione francese
sono La mancanza di un giusto motivo per la distruzione del governo di
Luigi XVI e di una autorità competente nei deputati del Terzo Stato che ne
furono gli autori. Questa distruzione avvenne indirettamente ma effettivamente
in conseguenza dei loro atti. Il nesso di queste cause con gli effetti indicati
Le riforme legittime, sentite dal popolo francese, avrebbero potuto avvenire
per vie pacifiche e legali; Manzoni peraltro non si rende conto che la
sua critica non tiene conto della situazione dell’ancien régime, in cui il
potere trovava la legittimità dal diritto divino mentre la critica da lui
avanzata è accettabile entro i presupposi giuridico-costituzionali creati dalla
Rivoluzione francese Il letterato lombardo sottolinea l’aumento del
dispotismo dal Terrore, al Direttorio, al bonapartismo come risultato
immediato degli atti iniziali della Rivoluzione francese. Trattando della
“Dichiarazione francese dei diritti dell’uomo” Manzoni discute il suo rapporto
con la precedente Dichiarazione americana sottolineando le differenze. Lo
scritto di Manzoni ha senza dubbio il merito di evidenziare il contrasto fra
gli ideali e le realizzazioni pratiche della Rivoluzione francese, nella sua
critica lo scrittore lombardo critica, come in altre opere, il potere politico
umano che riveste in forme giuridiche la sostanza dell’arbitrio e della
prepotenza ed ad esso contrappone il valore assoluto dell’idea del diritto, che
è <una verità> Tale considerazione induce C. a proporre un altro
parallelo fra la posizione di Manzoni e quelle di Kant e Robespierre. Kant ha
negato il diritto di un popolo alla rivoluzione ed ha considerato l’esecuzione
di Luigi XVI un crimine inespiabile ma nello stesso tempo è stato un convinto
sostenitore della Rivoluzione francese; Robespierre <rivoluzionario
legalitario, giudicato non equamente dal Manzoni, fu un uomo dal forte
sentimento giuridico e, nel momento della sua caduta,pur proscritto e
ricercato all’Hotel de la Ville, benché fosse esortato dagli amici a redigere
un appello all’insurrezione popolare esitò e si chiese <Au nom de
qui?> come è attestato dalla sorella Charlotte Nella lunga
ed articolata conclusione C. ribadisce che il pensiero giuridico di due
letterati ha numerosi elementi in comune e svolge alcune considerazioni sul
metodo seguito. L’autore evidenzia che il suo saggio ha <un taglio
diverso> dagli studi citati sull’attività forense di Goldoni, sul
significato riformatore delle sue commedie e sulle implicazioni politiche del
pensiero di Manzoni. Il punto di vista seguito nel volume dal docente è
quello della considerazione a un lato del diritto come <categoria
autonoma>, dotato delle sue specifiche caratteristiche e dall’altro del
diritto inteso come fondato filosoficamente, posto in relazione con problemi
storici, politici e sociali. Lo studio degli aspetti giuridici e dei problema
del diritto nl pensiero e nell’opera di Goldoni e Manzoni non è stato disgiunto
all’esame dei temi della riforma sociale e della riflessione politica nella
loro attività letteraria. Il punto di vista seguito sempre dall’autore ,
come da lui steso dichiarato, è stato quindi¨<quello dell’ autonomia del
diritto , ma non inteso secondo una prospettiva meramente logico-formale,
bensì basato su una fondazione filosofica, e dotato di rilevanza politica. .
L’angolo visuale usato come punto di riferimento per i due letterati è
l’illuminismo giuridico. L’illuminismo è coevo di Goldoni, che anticipa
Rousseau nella proclamazione del principio dell’uguaglianza naturale ed è
aperto al problema della riforma sociale,come è riconosciuto da numerosi
interpreti delle sue opere. I rapporti tra Goldoni e l’illuminismo giuridico
sono più evidenti nel passo dei “Mémoires “ sulla procedura criminale e nelle
commedie L’uomo prudente e L’Avvocato veneziano . Manzoni è posteriore
all’illuminismo ma l’autore ha cercato di indicare la presenza di una eredità
Illuministica, con riferimento ai problemi giuridici, ne “I Promessi
sposi” e nella “Storia della Colonna infame” dove peraltro sono presenti degli
elementi di superamento delle concezioni illuministiche. Il docente
ritiene di rifiutare la tesi diffusa di coloro che interpretano Manzoni
esclusivamente dall’angolo visuale della linea agostiniana-pascaliana con
venature giansenistiche negando il profondo legame con l’illuminismo, in realtà
Manzoni si dimostra erede dell’illuminismo per l’habitus mentale razionalistico
del suo pensiero, per la sua considerazione della ragione e per la sua ricerca
delle radici razionali della fede; in tal modo il grande scrittore lombardo fa
propria l’eredità migliore dell’illuminismo, il filone etico-religioso che si
contrappone al filone ateo e materialistico di alcune correnti.
Ragonese e Caretti hanno bene sottolineato i rapporti
tra Manzoni e l’illuminismo. C. conclude il suo saggio ribadendo che il
motivo comune fondamentale di Goldoni e Manzoni è il principio cristiano ed
illuministico (e kantiano) della dignità umana. In Goldoni questo
principio è meno evidente ma è legato soprattutto all’idea della comune natura
umana, al di là delle differenze sociali, che appare in numerose commedie ed
opere drammatiche, in Manzoni la difesa della dignità umana è svolta ad un
livello di maggior profondità ed è connessa ad una prospettiva religiosa come
traspare chiaramente dal testo recitato dal coro de “Il Conte di
Carmagnola” Nella Appendice viene riproposto lo studio di Pascolato
“ Goldoni Avvocato” pubblicato su “Nuova Antologia” Cattaneo pubblica
“Suggestioni penalistiche in testi letterari”. Il libro, che è dedicato
alla memoria del Prof. Renato Treves, per molti anni ordinario di Filosofia del
Diritto all’Università degli Studi di Milano, tratta le opere di numerosi
letterati. Il libro, che si articola in 12 capitoli ed una appendice, tratta
di scrittori che nelle loro opere hanno affrontato il tema
della pena o problemi di natura giuridica. Il lavoro, rileva l’Autore, non ha
avuto una genesi unitaria Il primo saggio scritto riguardava Parini, un
“poeta civile” rappresentante di un Illuminismo cristiano ed equilibrato, è
seguito il saggio su Collodi, l’uomo del Risorgimento che ha combattuto a
Curtatone e che mostra nel suo aperto scetticismo nei confronti della legge e
dell’autorità costituita una opinione diffusa di molti uomini dell’Italia
post-unitaria tra cui il grande giurista liberale Carrara..Il terzo saggio è
stato dedicato a Foscolo che nello scritto < L’orazione sulla giustizia>
ed altri due scritti <La difesa del sergente Armani> ed <una lettera
al “Monitore Italiano”> tratta problemi relativi alla pena Il primo saggio
del volume si intitola “Studi Dante e il diritto penale” Lo studio
riguarda il rapporto tra il grande poeta ALIGHIERI ed il diritto penale.. C.
rileva che gli studi di storici e filosofi del diritto che hanno trattato il
pensiero giuridico di Dante hanno trascurato l’aspetto penalistico. ALIGHIERI non
si è occupato di diritto penale ma l’analisi del suo capolavoro mostra un
elaborato sistema di rapporti tra colpa e pena. Numerosi studiosi hanno
rilevato che le pene crudeli descritte nell’Inferno del poema dantesco sono
molto lontane dalle prospettive della legislazione penale moderna anche se
occorre distinguere tra la prospettiva morale e religiosa del poema dantesco e
le finalità delle legislazioni penali attuali Dante peraltro opera una
distinzione tra peccati puniti fuori e dentro la città di Dite che può
corrispondere ad una distinzione tra peccati e delitti, il più rilevante
contributo indiretto dato da Dante al diritto penale è il criterio di
graduazione delle gravità delle colpe e le corrispondenti pene come è stato
evidenziato da Vecchio. Il maggior contributo diretto di Dante alla
cultura giuridica moderna sono l’affermazione del principio di uguaglianza e di
personalità delle pene e l’affermazione della volontà del volere dell’uomo
quale presupposto della conseguente valutazione del merito o del demerito delle
sue azioni. C. conclude che:” Certamente, fare apparire Dante come un
grande giurista, un grande penalista, può risultare sforzato e retorico. Ma
nello stesso tempo, non è assolutamente possibile e lecito ignorare il
contributo, diretto o indiretto, che Dante ha dato anche al diritto penale; la
Divina Commedia è un costante punto di riferimento per qualunque problema,
religioso, filosofico, umano; ricordo che mio Padre diceva che nella
Commedia <<c’è tutto>>” Nella introduzione ho accennato a due
recenti approfonditi studi su Dante ed il diritto, un tema caro a molti
studiosi Il secondo saggio si intitola “Giuseppe Parini e L’Illuminismo
giuridico”. C. rileva che Parini, sacerdote non per vocazione ma
uomo profondamente credente, fu sensibile a numerosi ideali illuministici di
riforma civile ed attraverso una delle sue Odi riprende le idee
illuministiche sul diritto penale, che propugnavano il principio umanitario
della doverosità della mitigazione delle pene considerando l’inefficacia di
pene eccessive in determinati contesti sociali. Vi è dunque una continuità di
principi da Parini, cattolico ed illuminista, a Manzoni e Rosmini, cattolici
liberali, una continuità di principi ed ideali umanitari relativi al problema
della pena e nell’ode Il bisogno è presente una concezione penale cristiana ed
illuminista. C. conclude il suo saggio affermando che Parini poeta civile
e morale interpreta il momento migliore dell’Illuminismo e si fa portavoce dei
suoi più significativi valori. In “Foscolo e la giustizia come forza,” C.
rileva che notoriamente Foscolo fu un poeta impegnato nelle vicende politiche
del suo tempo segnato dalla rivoluzione francese e dall’epopea napoleonica.
Negli scritti di natura penalistica il poeta accoglie i principi della
dottrina giuridica illuministica, come la difesa della certezza del diritto ed
il rispetto delle garanzie processuali. Foscolo inoltre critica la teoria della
retribuzione morale e quella della prevenzione generale. Il quarto capitolo è
intitolato. “Le <veglie notturne> di Bonaventura e la critica dei
giuristi” un libro tedesco poco conosciuto in Italia, opera uscita
anonima nel 1805 a Penig (Sassonia) presso il poco noto editore F Dienemann,
che l’aveva pubblicata nel suo <Journal von neuen deutschen Original
Romanen>. C. evidenzia che nelle pagine dedicate a temi giuridici viene
messo in rilievo l’invito a rendere il diritto più umano ed a metterlo al
servizio degli uomini. La descrizione del giudice freddo paragonato ad una
macchina o ad una marionetta, il rimprovero ai giuristi che si assumono il
compito di tormentare i corpi, come i teologhi tormentano le anime, l’uccisione
della giustizia da parte dei tribunali, il richiamo al diritto naturale, che
dovrebbe essere il vero diritto positivo, la critica di una giurisprudenza
svincolata dalla morale sono chiari segnali di una aspirazione ad
umanizzare il diritto, specie quello penale. In “Heine e la satira delle teorie
della pena”, C. analizza il breve scritto che Heine aveva aggiunto quale
appendice al suo volume “ Lutezia”Lo scritto è dedicato al problema della
riforma delle prigioni ed alla legislazione penale e porta il titolo
<Gefaengnisreform und Strafgesetzgebung>. Il saggio, pur nella
brevità, è un esame attento delle teorie fondamentali della pena. C.
suggerisce che l’analisi critica del poeta si traduce in una satira delle
dottrine della retribuzione, dell’intimidazione e dell’emenda e coglie i punti
centrali di tali concezioni. Heine sottolinea l’ingiustizia della teoria
dell’intimidazione generale ed evidenzia il carattere patriarcale e
paternalistico delle teoria dell’emenda. Nell’esaminare il principio di una
prevenzione dei delitti commessi con mezzi diversi dalla pena, Heine ritiene
che bisogna agire con durezza, reclusione ed addirittura con la pena di morte
concepite come prospettiva di difesa sociale. C. rileva che è sempre più chiara
e più facile la parte negativa della filosofia penale, cioè la critica delle
dottrine sulle pena che la parte costruttiva cioè l’indicazione di un
fine positivo nella funzione penale. Heine critica inoltre il sistema
carcerario filadelfiano e quello auburniano In “Victor Hugo e la pena
come fonte di delitti,” C. rileva che il problema giuridico penale è presente
nell’opera letteraria di Hugo con una severa critica del sistema penale
dell’epoca e la sua difesa della dignità dell’uomo. Il problema emerge
chiaramente nel celebre romanzo “Les Miserables” e nel suo protagonista
l’ex-forzato Jean Valjean. Il romanzo affronta il problema di una pena
sproporzionata ed inumana, che è causa di nuovi delitti e di una spirale
indefinita di reati e pene successive. Il tema è sviluppato nella figura
centrale di Valjean. Tutte le tragiche vicende del protagonista nascono
da un tentativo di furto dovuto alla miseria ed alla fame; a causa del furto di
un pezzo di pane,che poi viene gettato via,Valjean è condannato a 5 anni di
detenzione e, in seguito a tre successive evasioni di breve durata, la sua
detenzione dura ben 19 anni. Vi è una enorme sproporzione tra il
danno causato dal reato e la pena che trasforma ed indurisce Valjean, la cui
psicologia viene analizzata in profondità da Hugo. La pena continua a gravare
su Valjean anche dopo la liberazione per cui questi riesce a lavorare solo per
una giornata data la sua qualità di ex-forzato. Hugo critica sia
l’atteggiamento di diffida e di rifiuto di tutta la popolazione sia la macchia
di infamia stabilita dalla legge. C. rileva che è ammirabile la battaglia
combattuta da Hugo contro la pena di morte, la sua denuncia della
sproporzione tra la gravità dei delitti e le pene, la critica dell’assurdo
criterio nel valutare la recidiva. Queste battaglie sono importanti
contributi all’evoluzione del diritto penale ed alla difesa della dignità
umana. In “Dostoevskij la coscienza e la pena,” C. evidenzia la centralità del tema del delitto,
della colpa e della pena nello scrittore russo, come è stato rilevato nel
profondo scritto di Italo Mancini, che ha evidenziato sia la validità di una
ricerca su Dostoevskij pensatore e filosofo sia che per lo scrittore
russo < la questione penale non rappresenta solo un contenuto ma il
contenuto>. Gobetti a proposito dei personaggi dello scrittore russo ha
rilevato che <I suoi personaggi non si sforzano mai di arrivare ad una
verità, ma piuttosto di chiarire e capire sé stessi>> Nel volume “I
ricordi della casa dei morti “ lo scrittore russo ricorda l’esperienza
personale della prigionia in Siberia e sottolinea chiaramente
l’incapacità del carcere di procurare l’emenda del reo dato che
Dostoevskij rileva che nel corso di parecchi anni non ha visto tra quella gente
il minimo segno di pentimento, il minimo rimorso per il delitto commesso; lo
scrittore russo indica anche nella solitudine e nella mancanza di
privatezza un elemento di particolare tormento della prigione. Il lavoro
nella prigione, rileva lo scrittore russo, non era faticoso ma era penoso
perché obbligato sotto la minaccia di un bastone. Dostoevskij evidenzia anche
l’ineguaglianza della pena per i medesimi delitti in relazione alla classe
sociale, da cui deriva l’ingiustizia e l’inefficacia della pena. Radicale è la
sua critica svolta nei confronti del regolamento carcerario e del comportamento
ottuso e crudele delle guardie carcerarie, severo è il giudizio sulla prassi
della fustigazione definita una piaga della società> Nel
<L’idiota> lo scrittore russo pone un giudizio duro e severo
sulla pena di morte in bocca al principe Miskin nelle prime pagine del
romanzo. Nel brano Dostoevskij sottolinea la svalutazione del carattere meno
afflittivo della decapitazione rispetto ai supplizi accompagnati da tormenti e
la sofferenza morale generata dalla attesa della esecuzione, che è peggiore
della sofferenza fisica. Nel romanzo “Delitto e castigo” Dostoevskij
evidenzia la tesi della necessità della pena giuridica quale espiazione della
colpa e come risultato del rimorso avvertito dal colpevole. La trama del
romanzo mette in luce la progressiva conversione, il rimorso e la ricerca di
espiazione del colpevole. Cattaneo sottolinea che il Leitmotiv del celebre
romanzo è la ricerca della espiazione sulla base di una spinta interiore e del
rimorso e che tale impostazione pone lo scrittore russo sulla linea del
Platone del Gorgia e di BOEZIO nel <Consolatio philosophiae>. La
conclusione giuridica processuale del romanzo rileva una sensibilità giuridica
moderna che pende in considerazione le circostanze attenuanti, le cause
sociali, psicologiche e morali del delitto ed il recupero morale e sociale del
colpevole. Il finale giuridico evidenzia la complessità del problema penale e
l’interesse di Dostoevskij, spirito umanitario e riformatore, per la
riforma del procedimento penale, d’altra parte, sul piano morale, rileva
il desiderio di espiazione che conduce all’emenda.
Dostoevskij manifesta l’atteggiamento del cristiano che si sente
corresponsabile delle colpe degli altri e riprende le parole di Cristo “Chi di
voi è senza peccato, scagli la prima pietra contro di lei” C. ribadisce che per
Dostoevskij il punto che più conta è il rimorso per la colpa commessa e la
auto-condanna da parte del delinquente. La pena giuridica non ha rilevanza, ciò
che conta è il processo di autocondanna, di espiazione e di redenzione che
avviene nella coscienza del colpevole. In “Tolstoj e la abolizione della pena,”
C. ribadisce che lo scrittore russo
postula una radicale abolizione del diritto penale in una prospettiva di amore
cristiano e di non violenza. I temi giuridici vengono affrontati da Tolstoj un
due opere “Resurrezione” e la novella “Il racconto di Koni”. Il romanzo
Resurrezione è fondato su una vicenda processuale, la condanna ad alcuni
anni di deportazione in Siberia della protagonista Ekaterina Maslova, diventata
prostituta a seguito di tristi vicende. Tolstoj analizza il processo e la
successiva pena dei forzati deportati ed evidenzia che negli istituti di pena
gli uomini erano sottoposti ad ogni genere di umiliazioni inutili, catene,
teste rasate, divise infamanti per cui si inculcava l’idea che qualsiasi
violenza, crudeltà e atrocità era autorizzata dal governo per chi si trovava in
prigionia nella sventura. Lo scrittore sottolinea il distacco tra la condanna e
la concreta esecuzione della pena con le sue brutalità. In Tolstoj il tema
fondamentale è l’indicazione dell’ingiustizia dell’intero sistema repressivo-penale
e la sottolineatura delle cause sociali dei delitti come Victor Hugo. Lo
scrittore suggerisce anche la necessità di abolire la pena e sostituirla
con il perdono, un ideale sublime ma difficile da realizzare in pratica e che indica
tutta la complessità del problema, C. si chiede se si tratta “del sogno di un
visionario, una utopia generosa o di un ideale verso cui la società deve
tendere.” In “Pinocchio e il diritto”, C. rileva che l’opera di Collodi è
stata oggetto di numerose indagini . Le ricerche sulla natura pedagogica
ed educativa sono state sviluppate da Bertacchini, Il testo di Collodi è stato
esaminato sotto il profilo filosofico e teologico nei due volumi scritti da Frosini
e Biffi . Frosini evidenzia che: << Il mito di Pinocchio si
rivela……come un mito tipicamente risorgimentale, al tramonto di
un’epoca; e anzi proprio di un risorgimentalismo di stampo repubblicano e
mazziniano>> basato su principi di umanitarismo positivistico. Biffi
sottolinea che Pinocchio fu scritto quando l’Italia era unita politicamente ma
non era una nazione consapevole di sé e concorde sui valori che danno senso
alla vita. Il Collodi aveva un cuore più grande delle sue persuasioni, un
carisma profetico più alto della sua militanza politica, così poté porsi in
comunione forse ignara con la fede dei suoi padri e con la vera filosofia del
suo popolo. . La lettura di Pinocchio evidenzia interessanti problemi e
temi di natura giuridica e filosofico-giuridica e lo scritto di Cattaneo
evidenzia soprattutto i temi più rilevanti dal punto di vista
penalistico. Cattaneo sottolinea che Lorenzini (ovvero Collodi) era un
fine umorista che sapeva cogliere il lato ridicolo ed insieme
doloroso della vita umana (opinione espressa anche da Lina Passarella nel suo
scritto prima citato su Goldoni filosofo), e cita ad esempio l’episodio
dei pareri opposti dei medici al capezzale di Pinocchio in casa della Fata dal
Corvo e dalla Civetta e quello della condanna del burattino derubato degli
zecchini dal giudice-scimmione. Pinocchio scappa di casa ed è acciuffato da un
carabiniere per il naso (Cattaneo rileva in tal modo la naturale
predisposizione dei cittadini ad essere oggetto delle interferenza da parte del
potere); dopo la riconsegna di Pinocchio a Geppetto e le sue proteste il
carabiniere, a seguito dei commenti della gente, rimette in libertà il
burattino e conduce in prigione Geppetto che piange disperatamente. L’episodio
mostra un membro dell’apparato giudiziario che arresta Geppetto sulla base
delle opinioni della <voce pubblica> compiendo un atto arbitrario senza
motivazioni precise e mostra un innocente debole ed inerme che non riesce a
difendersi di fronte all’atto arbitrario del potere. Un altro episodio
interessante è narrato nel capitolo XXVII, dove si descrive la battaglia con i
libri di testo fra Pinocchio ed i suoi compagni. Un grosso volume scagliato
verso Pinocchio colpisce alla tesa un compagno che cade come morto. Tutti i
ragazzi fuggono e rimane Pinocchio a soccorrere il compagno. Arrivano due
carabinieri che,dopo un breve colloquio, arrestano Pinocchio malgrado le sue
dichiarazioni di innocenza. Il burattino fugge inseguito dal cane Alidoro al
quale salva la vita mentre stava per annegare. Cattaneo evidenzia a riguardo
che la vittima del potere è l’innocente, l’unico trovato vicino ad Eugenio, che
viene arrestato perché le circostanze sono contro di lui La frase dei
carabinieri “Basta così” è commentata da Biffi che evidenzia che l’invito a
ragionare insospettisce spesso l’autorità, la quale è incline a tagliar corto.
In molte vicende giudiziarie si nota che una concatenazione di indizi
sfavorevoli dà l’avvio a processi indiziari seguiti da condanne di persone
innocenti. Un altro episodio clamoroso di palese ingiustizia è la vicenda
che conclude il rapporto tra Pinocchio ed il due truffatori La Volpe ed il
Gatto. Pinocchio incontra la Volpe ed il Gatto e viene convinto a
seminare i 4 zecchini d’oro nel Campo dei miracoli vicino alla città di
Acchiappacitrulli. Tale città descritta minuziosamente da Collodi è,secondo
C., e il simbolo dell’ingiustizia e di un diritto positivo basato sul puro
potere politico; tale città esprime in modo chiaro il pericolo del prevalere
della politica sulla giustizia nella amministrazione della giustizia,
come dimostra l’episodio giudiziario che riguarda Pinocchio. Pinocchio
accortosi di essere stato derubato delle monete d’oro torna in città e denunzia
al giudice i due malandrini che lo avevano derubato, ma,invece di ottenere
giustizia, è vittima di una tragica beffa. Il giudice scimmione, al quale
Pinocchio si era rivolto, ordina che il burattino venga messo in
prigione. L’ordine viene eseguito da due mastini che tappano la bocca al
burattino, il quale resta 4 mesi in prigione e viene liberato a seguito di una
vittoria dell’imperatore della città di Acchiappacitrulli. Per ottenere
la libertà Pinocchio dichiara al carceriere di appartenere al numero dei
malandrini e così viene salutato rispettosamente e può scappare. C. rileva che
la figura dello scimmione sottolinea la miseria della giustizia umana ed il
carattere insoddisfacente dei tribunali umani dove, come scrive Platone, si
discute sulle “ombre della giustizia” Biffi nel suo volume rileva dapprima
l’aspetto positivo della figura del giudice che è descritto come un personaggio
rispettabile, benevolo, attento al racconto del burattino, successivamente
Biffi sottolinea che la figura dello scimmione della razza dei gorilla
rappresenta la caricaturalità della giustizia terrena rispetto a quella vera,
per cui il giudice finisce con applicare la legge umana che con i suoi
meccanismi colpisce il debole anche se innocente. Cattaneo rileva che la
situazione proposta da Collodi ricorda quella descritta da Manzoni ne I Promessi
Sposi dove i violenti erano organizzati e protetti ed i deboli, non sorretti da
consorterie, erano vittime dei soprusi del potere. La lettura di
Pinocchio di Collodi ed in particolare di alcuni brani può dar luogo a
considerazioni di natura filosofico-giuridica e giuridico- penale, come
suggerisce acutamente C. nel suo volume. Merito indubbio di Collodi è
descrivere alcune situazioni caratterizzate da abuso di potere, oppressione dei
deboli e sfasamento dei corretti rapporti stabiliti dagli ordinamenti
giuridici, come del resto è stato rilevato da numerosi importanti interpreti.
E’ opportuno sottolineare che il capolavoro di Collodi, come molte altre opere
letterarie, affronta importanti problemi giuridici tra i quali va segnalata
l’importante e costante aspirazione perenne che la legge in essere non sia solo
la volontà del gruppo sociale dominante, una forma di controllo sociale, e che
inoltre l’ordinamento giuridico tuteli la dignità e le aspirazioni degli uomini
come attesta la storia del diritto. Il capitolo decimo è intitolato “Wilde e le
sofferenze del prigione” Wilde in alcune sue opere ha descritto la sua
penosa esperienza carceraria ed il clima del carcere., lo scrittore inglese fu
condannato a due anni di carcere che scontò interamente. C. evidenzia che
<Wilde fu il tipico capro espiatorio dell’ipocrisia della società
vittoriana> Lo stesso letterato nel <De Profundis>, redatto in
carcere, attesta di essere passato dalla gloria all’infamia con un mutamento
dell’opinione pubblica dalla esaltazione al disprezzo. Le osservazioni di Wilde
sul problema della pena nel suo celebre <De Profundis> e nella accorata
<The Ballad of Reading Gaol> hanno fornito un importante contributo alla
battaglia per la riforma del sistema carcerario. Il volume <De profundis>
fu redatto da Wilde negli ultimi anni carcere. L’opera è redatta sotto forma di
lettera all’amico Alfred Douglas <Bosie> e contiene molti rimproveri
all’amico per i suoi atteggiamenti durante il processo ed il successivo
carcere. L’opera, dopo molte controversie, fu pubblicata definitivamente nel
1949 dal figlio di Wilde Vyvyan Holland. All’inizio dell’opera Wilde rimprovera
l’amico Douglas e soprattutto sé stesso e riflette sul suo stato di
persona imprigionata e rovinata <a disgraced and ruined man>
lo angoscia dopo la sentenza e l’esperienza carceraria e e. Lo scrittore
inglese rileva che per chi vive in carcere la sofferenza che lo domina è la
misura stessa del tempo ed il fondamento del proprio continuare ad
esistere Wilde evidenzia che la terribile esperienza in prigione sia
stata per lui più dolorosa che per altri e si e si lamenta per la perdita della
patria potestà sui due figli e rimarca l’ingiustizia di tale procedimento che
incrina il rapporto familiare. Lo scrittore rileva che per i poveri la prigione
è un dramma che tuttavia suscita peraltro la simpatia delle altre persone
mentre per gli uomini del suo ceto la prigione li rende dei <paria>, per
cui i condannati di ceto abbiente non hanno più diritto all’aria ed al sole,la
loro presenza infetta i piaceri degli altri e bisogna tagliare i legami con
l’esterno dato che l’onore e la reputazione della persona condannata è
leso. Wilde evidenzia anche che molte persone,quando escono di
prigione, nascondono il fatto di essere stati in carcere che considerano una
sciagura e, rileva lo scrittore inglese,, è orribile che la società li
costringa a tale comportamento. La società ha il diritto di punire i colpevoli
ma non riesce a completare ciò che ha fatto e lascia l’uomo al termine della
pena, quando dovrebbe iniziare la riabilitazione, sarebbe giusto invece che non
ci fosse amarezza o rancore tra le parti (colpevoli e vittime). Cattaneo
evidenzia l’ipocrisia che sta dietro l’idea della retribuzione morale e
cioè che subendo la pena il colpevole abbia pagato il suo debito verso la
società, se si applicasse tale principio, dopo la fine della pena tutto
dovrebbe cessare e non dovrebbero esservi più né fedine penali né casellari
giudiziari. Nella realtà comune resta una macchia sulla persona che è stata in
carcere, un pregiudizio che la società perpetua e l’onta non deriva dal delitto
commesso ma dalla pena scontata. La società riconosce implicitamente
l’inutilità della pena perché l’onta del colpevole incarcerato rimane.
Analizzando la vita in carcere Wilde sottolinea che le privazioni e restrizioni
del carcere rendono una persona ribelle ed impietrisce i cuori dei condannati.
L’abito dei carcerati li rende grotteschi come clowns, oggetto di derisione e
berlina della gente. Tali sofferenze ed umiliazioni dei condannati sono
contrari al principio della dignità umana che Wilde riafferma come profonda
esigenza morale della società. Lo scrittore afferma anche che tutti i processi
sono processi per la propria vita e tutte le sentenze sono sentenze di morte;
spesso anche una condanna alla prigione genera delle sofferenze che conducono
alla morte e va rilevato che Wilde stesso morì pochi anni dopo il carcere in
Francia . Wilde scrisse anche <The Ballad of Reading Goal> , l’anno
del suo rilascio. in questa lunga ballata il poeta inglese descrive le
sofferenze e le crudeltà cui aveva assistito durante la prigionia e dalle sue
considerazioni sulla triste sorte dei carcerati risulta un grande senso di
pietà per i carcerati ed i condannati a morte. La poesia è pervasa da spirito
religioso e Wilde mette in confronto il vero spirito cristiano, la pietà per i
sofferenti ed i peccatori con l’atteggiamento chiuso, duro ed indifferente
delle istituzioni religiose ufficiali e dei cappellani delle carceri .
Cattaneo rileva che la tragica esperienza personale ha portato Wilde ad
affrontare il tema della riforma delle prigioni e del sistema penale del quale
si era occupato nello scritto “The soul of man under socialism” . Dalle
riflessioni dello scrittore inglese redatte nelle opere dopo il carcere si
ricava una denuncia della brutalità del trattamento carcerario e della
inumanità nell’esecuzione della pena con critiche alla utilità sociale della
stessa In “Gide e il non giudicare,” il problema giuridico-penale è
stato esaminato anche da un noto scrittore francese contemporaneo Gide, che lo
ha affrontato in tre stimolanti scritti “Souvenir de la Cour d’Assise” che
racchiude la sua esperienza quale giurato in alcuni processi penali, “L’affaire
Redureau” e “La sequestrée de Poitiers” che poi sono stati pubblicati insieme
in una raccolta dal titolo ”Ne jugez pas” Cattaneo rileva che di tale
scritto non si sono occupati molto i critici ed i commentatori, come sempre
avviene quando si tratta di problemi giuridici in veste letteraria. L’analisi
del volume di Gide è interessante perché il libro è molto rilevante per lo
studio di rapporti tra diritto penale e letteratura e costituisce
delle precise prese di posizione dirette su temi giuridico-penali, desunti
dalla realtà della vita. Cattaneo mette in luce l’attenzione, la precisione, la
serietà e la preparazione dimostrate dallo scrittore francese nel trattare i
temi giuridici, soprattutto per la precisione del linguaggio giuridico. Gide
dimostra competenza nel trattare problemi giuridico-penali e probabilmente “l’
indagine di certi casi criminali lo induce all’analisi di talune zone
inesplorate della psiche umana” L’atteggiamento dominante di Gide è
il “favor rei” che si esprime in due modi o a due livelli: da un lato sul
piano processuale lo scrittore volge l’attenzione al rispetto delle garanzie
dell’imputato, ad una equilibrata ed equa conduzione dell’interrogatorio, alla
escussione di tutti i testimoni, specie quelli della difesa. Lo scrittore
francese solleva anche nei suoi scritti l’esigenza di una riforma del
modo di porre le domande ai giurati e di chiarire il loro contenuto. Gide si
mostra sempre umano e compassionevole verso i colpevoli, mostra l’esigenza che
la pena sia in generale ridotta e che si tenga conto degli elementi che valgono
a titolo di difesa, quali motivi di giustificazioni e scuse. Lo scrittore
francese si preoccupa che la pena possa causare mali peggiori e cerca di
evitare risultati negativi della stessa. C. evidenzia che in sostanza nel libro
di Gide “è primaria l’attenzione per l’uomo, la sua complessità e la sua
imperscrutabilità psicologica, che porta al dubbio e alla perplessità circa il
fatto che alcuni uomini possano giudicare altri uomini, queste pagine sono
dunque dominate dal monito evangelico, per cui particolarmente adatto risulta
il titolo complessivo della raccolta: Ne jugez pas.” In “Franz Kafka, la
legge e il totalitarismo” C. ha discusso in molte opere il problema
del totalitarismo che è stato analizzato soprattutto nel suo volume “Terrorismo
ed arbitrio Il problema giuridico del totalitarismo” Analizzando le opere
di Kafka C. premette che è particolarmente rilevante il pericolo di un forte
divario fra la letteratura critica ed interpretativa ed il testo originario
dello scrittore per cui ritiene che siano legittime molte diverse
interpretazioni dell’opera di Kafka, e molte <chiavi di lettura> .,
certamente l’interpretazione più interessante dello scrittore ceco è quella
data dall’amico Max Brod, che evidenzia la religiosità ebraica presente
nelle opere di Kafka ed in questa chiave interpreta i brani relativi al
problema della legge, del processo e della colpa. Una interpretazione
giuridica delle opere di Kafka è stata compiuta da Pernthaler.C. intende
esaminare alcune opere di Kafka dalle quali il problema della legge emerge
anche dal punto di vista filosofico-giuridico In tali opere di Kafka
ricorre il tema del difficile rapporto dell’uomo con la legge, che è
interpretato in chiave religiosa o in chiave psicologica o psicoanalitica ma
che può essere analizzato anche dal punto di vista filosofico-giuridico. C.
esamina alcuni temi che emergono da “Il Processo” dall’apologo “Vor dem
gesetz”, dallo scritto ”Zur Frage der Gesetze” e dalla novella “In der
Strafkolonie” e dall’analisi complessiva di tali opere interpreta Kafka come
profeta e critico del totalitarismo che fu instaurato in alcune nazioni dopo la
sua morte, lo scrittore ceco delinea situazioni di angoscia, di incertezza, di
impossibilità di comunicazione, di errore e di ferocia tipiche del
totalitarismo. Kafka collega la burocrazia e l’oppressione del potere sugli
uomini caratteristica del nascente totalitarismo . PCitati rileva che
<Nel Processo, l’immenso Dio sconosciuto, di cui non ascoltiamo mai
pronunciare il nome, ha invece una vita così intensa e un potere così
illimitato, come forse non ha ma avuto nei tempi> L’interpretazione di
Citati è più psicanalitica che religiosa ma è priva di prospettiva
giuridico-politica. Di impronta psicoanalitica è l’interpretazione data da
Sgorlon del <Processo> di Kafka ma la prospettiva giuridico
politica, trascurata da questi studiosi, è presente e C. evidenzia che proprio nel primo capitolo, in
cui è narrato l’improvviso arresto mattutino di Joseph K esprime in modo
preciso proprio la sensazione del passaggio graduale ed insensibile dallo Stato
di diritto allo Stato totalitario .Di seguito le indicazioni che Joseph K
riesce a ricevere da parte di vari personaggi connessi al Tribunale concernenti
il meccanismo, il funzionamento, l’andamento del processo mettono in luce la
totale assenza di garanzie giuridiche e processuali, di tutela dell’imputato,
elementi che costituiscono l’esatta antitesi dello Stato di diritto Il tema
della inconoscibilità e irragiugibilità delle leggi è ripreso da Kafka nello
scritto <Zur Frage der Gesetze> In tale scritto Kafka delle <nostre
leggi> che non sono conosciute da tutti, ma sono un segreto del piccolo
gruppo della nobiltà che ci domina. Kafka dichiara di non avere in mente tanto
gli svantaggi derivanti dalle diverse possibilità di interpretazione, quando
questa è riservata ad alcuni e non all’intero popolo, questi svantaggi non sono
poi molto grandi. Le leggi sono antiche, secoli hanno lavorato alla loro
interpretazione, l’interpretazione è diventata essa stessa legge, e sussistono
sempre, benché limitate, alcune libertà di scelta dell’interpretazione Il
motivo dominane l’intero scritto è il carattere inconoscibile della legge, dato
che la legge è misteriosa e nessun membro del popolo è in grado di conoscerla
per cui è comprensibile che vi sia qualcuno che arriva a negare l’esistenza
delle leggi e riconosce peraltro il diritto all’esistenza della nobiltà
La fredda descrizione di uno strumento di supplizio, nell’ambito di un sistema
processuale completamente privo delle fondamentali garanzie è il messaggio del
racconto <In der Strafkolonie> (Nella colonia penale) e la conclusione
della novella di Kafka riflette la logica del totalitarismo per cui quando il
viaggiatore comunica all’ufficiale di essere avversario di questo sistema
punitivo, l’ufficiale si rende conto di essere rimasto il solo difensore di
tale sistema punitivo e libera il soldato dalla macchina del supplizio, si
denuda e si pone lui stesso sul lettino al posto del condannato, la macchina
del supplizio inizia a funzionare e l’ufficiale muore senza aver capito
il senso del supplizio come ogni sistema totalitario si
autodistrugge e divora i propri figli C. cita la fucilazione dei coniugi
Ceausescu operata nell’ambito del totalitarismo comunista. L’Appendice del
volume è intitolata “Vaclav Havel e la legge come <<alibi>> nel
sistema post-totalitario” Havel, noto scrittore contemporaneo, che è stato
Presidente della repubblica cecoslovacca, è autore di numerose opere letterarie
e teatrali. C. ritiene che se Kafka rappresenta il tempo del pre-totalitarismo,
Havel rappresenta il post-totalitarismo,al quale ha dedicato uno scritto
bblicato che l’autore del volume esamina nella traduzione tedesca. Havel
delinea l’opposizione al comunismo, nel suo momento post-totalitario, come
tentativo di vivere nella verità; la verità, intesa come opposizione ad un
sistema che si fonda e si regge sulla menzogna. Lo scritto ha un carattere
etico-politico ma contiene importanti pagine di natura giuridica e di critica
dell’ordinamento giuridico proprio del regime totalitario e
post-totalitario. Tale sistema politico è caratterizzato, secondo lo
scrittore ceco, come una dittatura della burocrazia politica su una società
livellata. Lo scrittore ceco elenca le caratteristiche del sistema
<post-totalitario> che lo distinguono dalla dittatura tradizionale ed
evidenzia che tale sistema non è delimitato territorialmente ma domina in
un ampio blocco di forze ed è retto da una superpotenza mentre le
dittature classiche non hanno una solida radice storica, la radice di tale
sistema dono i movimenti operai e socialisti. Tale sistema dispone di una
ideologia strutturata ed elastica che ha i caratteri di una religione
secolarizzata ed offre una risposta ad ogni domanda dell’uomo in una epoca di
crisi delle certezze esistenziali. Alle dittature tradizionali spettano
elementi di improvvisazione per quanto attiene alla tecnica del potere mentre
lo sviluppo di anni nell’Unione sovietica e di anni nei paesi dell’Est europeo
ha dimostrato la creazione di un meccanismo perfetto, che permette la
manipolazione diretta ed indiretta della società. La forza di tale sistema è
incrementata dalla proprietà statuale e dalla amministrazione
centralizzata dei <mezzi di produzione> Nella dittatura classica vi
è una atmosfera di entusiasmo rivoluzionario, di eroismo, di spirito di
sacrificio che sono scomparsi nel blocco sovietico. Tale blocco sovietico, che
è un elemento solido del nostro mondo, è caratterizzato dalla stessa gerarchia
di valori presenti nei paesi occidentali sviluppati e sono una forma di
società consumistica ed industriale. Il sistema sopra descritto è
designato da Havel come <post-totalitario> perché è un sistema
totalitario con caratteristiche diverse dalle dittature classiche e, rispetto
al totalitarismo classico, è caratterizzato da una misura più attenuata di
terrore ed arbitrio Havel considera il sistema post-totalitario come
caratterizzato dalla menzogna, ciò è un effetto del dominio della ideologia;
gli uomini non devono credere alle mistificazioni totalitarie ma tollerarle in
silenzio ed accetta, ciò è un vivere nella menzogna e lo scrittore
insiste sul valore e sul significato morale ed esistenziale della dissidenza.
Per quanto riguarda l’ordinamento giuridico nel sistema post-totalitario
lo scrittore rileva che tale sistema sente la necessità di regolare tutto
con una rete di prescrizioni, norme, istituzioni e regolamenti per cui gli
uomini sono delle piccole viti di un meccanismo gigantesco. Le
professioni, le abitazioni ed i movimenti dei cittadini e le sue manifestazioni
sociali e culturali sono controllate, ogni deviazione viene considerata un
passo falso ed una manifestazione di egoismo ed anarchia. Havel rileva che non
bisogna prendere alla lettera l’ordinamento giuridico e ciò che conta è<
come è la vita> e se le leggi servono alla vita o la opprimono ¸la battaglia
per la <legalità> deve vedere questa <legalità> sullo sfondo della
vita come è realmente. Analizzando il rapporto tra la società
post-totalitaria e la moderna civiltà tecnologica, con riferimento anche agli
scritti di Heidegger, Havel rileva che il sistema post-totalitario è solo un
aspetto della generale incapacità dell’uomo contemporaneo di divenire <padrone
della propria situazione> e la prospettiva giusta è quella di una
<rivoluzione esistenziale> generalmente comprensiva L’aspetto più
interessane di Havel è la delineazione dei caratteri del sistema
post-totalitario come fenomeno sorto dall’incontro della dittatura con la
società industriale e consumistica. Per quanto riguarda i problemi
giuridici, Cattaneo rileva che Havel sottolinea il significato autentico del
diritto, che deve avere coscienza dei propri limiti naturali, il diritto ha un
significato esteriore, deve difendere alcune esigenze minime (tutela della
convivenza civile dalla violenza e dalle invasioni nei diritti altrui ma non
deve pretendere di adempiere a compiti per cui non è adatto - In tal modo,
sottolinea C., il letterato ceco riprende la migliore lezione del liberalismo
classico per cui il diritto non è al servizio del potere, ma può essere un
valore solo in quanto esso sia un mezzo di difesa e la garanzia della libertà e
della dignità dell’uomo Il grande insegnamento del letterato Havel
è la tutela del valore più calpestato dal totalitarismo, la dignità umana che è
lo scopo fondamentale ed essenziale del diritto, dato che diritto e
libertà sono collegati ed il diritto ha valore se garantisce e protegge la
libertà. DISSERTAZIONÉ • SULL ORIGINE DELL’ANTICA IDOLATRIA E
SULLA FORMA DE' PRIMI IDOLATRICI SIMULACRI COMPOSTA
DALL'ABATE; Giuseppe luigi traversari H
Patrizio Ravennate , Canonico Arciprete della Infigne Collegiata di Meldola,
e tra gli Arcadi.LANIO' ATENIENSH. PRESSO GIOSEFFANTONIO
ARCHI. DISSERTAZIONE SULL' ORIGINE DELL’ ANTICA
IDOLATRIA E SULLA FORMA DE' PRIMI IDOLATRICI SIMULACRI. AL
NOBILISSIMO CAVALIERE , E DOTTISSIMO LETTERATO IL SIGNOR
CONTE AURELIO GUARNIERI PATRIZIO OS1MANO L’AUTORE. Veneratissimo
Signor Conte fi 'S T fi Aria, intralciata, difficile , e per
nju- /. X no, ch’io fappia, di proposto rifchia- tt » rata fi
è la Queftione , che mi vien pro- OS A porta a trattare,
veneratiffimo Sig. Con- te ; cioè fe i Simulacri primieri delle pagane divinità
fodero lemplici e rozze Pietre, o quadrate, o rotonde, lenza veruna umana, o
animalel- ca ferabianza . Io ricevo con Ibmmo giubbilo per una
parte l’onore de’ voftri cenni, e vi fi) al mag- gior fegao buon grado
per avermeli gentilmente partecipati . E’ una degnazion Angolare la
voftra il credermi pur capace di l'oddisfarvi in materia di eru-
dizione . Ma per l’ altra ben coaofcendo la pochez- A 3 za del v/ 6
' Dksert. sull* Origine za del mio talento, e la fcartezza di mie
cognizioni , provo un eftremo roflòre di non potervi ubbi- dire in quel
modo, che ad un voftro pari, ed alla qualità dell’ argomento fi
converrebbe. Inclinato per genio all’ amena Letteratura , ma Tempre da
im- pieghi fagri , e da gravi Itudj recinto , e fommer- lo in
occupazioni tutte diverte , lenza tempo , lèn- za relpiro come potrò
teftenere la qualità di Lette- rato innanzi a Voi , che in ogni maniera
di colte Lettere liete Maeflro ? E ben fapete quanto male in-
contrante a colui , che fu ardito parlar di guerra in- T 4 nanzi ad
Annibaie. Ciò non pertanto , fcnibrando- mi più teoncia la taccia di
malcreato , e di (cono- fcente , che non quella d’ignorante , e di mal
efper- to , a telo fine di tellimoniarvi per alcun modo la mia
oltervanza , mi farò lecito di comunicarvi i miei penlamenti. Sarà quindi
gentile impiego del voltro bel cuore infieme, e della vofira dottrina il
com- patirli te rozzi , o il rigettarli fe erranti. Per- mettetemi
però , gentilifitmo Sig. Conte , che io nel diitenderli mi allontani
alquanto dal metodo fecco e digiuno, che per alcuni fi tiene , e che
foltanto confine nel produrre Autori a rifate , e inzeppar fe- lli
, e affafteflar citazioni. Comecché molto io lodi la fatica e l’ induftria
di chi procede fifFattamente , la materia, che abbiamo tra mano, fe io
non vò lungi dal vero , brama di fpaziare in più aperto cammino , « di
venir rintracciata da’ Tuoi vetulti principi. In due parti perciò credo
ben fatto il dividere la prefente Dillèrtazione , che a Voi trafmetto, e
cou- facro . Ragionerò nella prima alcun poco della ori- gine,
delle maniere , e degli oggetti di quella fatale Idolatria , che a poco a
poco lopprimendo i lumi della natura , della ragione , della Religione ,
della lloria , coprì di tenebre , e manommite tutta la faccia dell’
Univerfo . Difcenderò pofeia naturalmente nel- la feconda a rendere , per
quanto io polla , proba- bile la opinione, che t primi Idolatrici
Simulacri tollero di quadrata, o rotonda forma, e non aven- ti
figura alcuna o di Animale , o di Uomo . In questa
dell'antica Idolatria 7 quella guila crederò di potere all*
autorità voìtra , ed alla mia ubbidienza per alcuna via foddisfare. Si
laici a Maimonide ( i J , ed alla Scuola Ra- binica il fidare lenza prove
agli Antidiluviani tem- pi l’epoca della nafcente fuperftizione.
Entrando nell’argomento, quel che puolli da noi con cer- tezza
affermare fi è, che poco tempo dopo il Di* luvio s’ intrulè il Politeifmo
a pervertir le menti de- gli Uomini . Il libro di Giosuè f a ) ne avverte
, che Tare Padre di Abramo , e di Nachor aveva fer- vito a* Dei
menzogneri . Óra la nalcita di Tare ? fecondo i calcoli dell’ Uflerio,
accadde non più di 22 1. anni dopo la generale inondazione del
nofiro Globo . Il libro poi di Giuditta ( 3 ) ci fa lapere , che
non pur Tare , ma eli Antenati di Abramo fe- guivano gli empj riti della
Caldea adoratrice di più falle Divinità. Labano chiama Tuoi Dei gl’ Idoli
* che Rachele tua Figliuola gli avea involati (”4), e Giacobbe
prima di offrire un facrificio all’ Altiifi- mo fa recarli da tutti
quelli di fua comitiva gl’ Ido- li , che ferbavano , e li nafconde
(otterrà . Molto, dagli Eruditi fi difputa qual folle dell*
Idolatria nafcente il primiero oggetto. Pretende il Clerico ( 5 J elfère
fiati gli Angeli adorati lenza limitazione , e lenza relazione all*
Onnipotente. Volilo d* altra parte lòltiene , che il Dogma de’ due
Principi buono , e cattivo folle dell’ Idola- tria più antica generatore.
Noi non fiamo per di- partirci dalla fentenza più comune, e più
compro- vata, cioè che gli Altri, e quindi gli < Elementi
follerò i primi a rifcuoter l’ adorazione de’ tralignan- ti mortali. Fra
un nembo di monumenti, e di au- torità , che in conferma di tale fentenza
recar po- . A 4 * ' trei * \ r » ( 1 ) De
Idolat. curri Interpr. Dionyfi VoJJìi . ( 2 ) Cape 24. v. 2. ( 3 )
Cap. p. v. 8. C4) Genef.cap. 31. v. 19. £?. 30., Cap . 3$. v.
2. 4 * (5 J Index Philolog. ad HiJÌ. Thil. Orienta in voce
Angelus , V Ajlra . ( 6 ) De idolat . lib. 1. 8 Dissert.
sull* Origine trei 3 e che in Macrobio C i ) , in Gerardo
VofTio già citato C 2 )> ne l Le Plucne ( 3 ), nel Bergero ( 4 )
lt polfòno agevolmente vedere , io trafcelgo il folo Eufebio Cefarienlè ,
tanto più che in Lui rinven- go accennata non pur 1 ’ origine , ma V
ingànnevol motivo di quella umana depravazione.' Egli adun- que
colia (corta del gravilTìmo Diodoro Sici- liano, parlando prima degli
Egiziani, poi de’ Fe- nici , popoli , fra’ quali ebbe forfè 1 ’ Idolatria
la fua culla , e finalmente de’ Greci , dice , che (6 ) ,, i „
primi Abitatori di Egitto , avendo volti gli oc- chi a contemplare il
Mondo, e con alto ilupo- „ re coixfiderando la natura di tutte le cole ,
ili- 3> marono, che il Sole, e la Luna follerò Dei lem- 3,
piterni , e primarj , de’ quali per certo rapporto „ chiamarono 1’
uno Ofiride , e 1’ altra Ilide ,, infegnando eller quelli due Dei
dell’ Univerfo 3, tutto moderatori. Rapporto poi ai Fenicj egli
afferma che • ,, i primi fra loro datifi ( 7 ) a filo- ,, fofare ,
tennero unicamente in luogo di Dei il ,, Sole , e la Luna , e gli altri
Pianeti , e gli Ele- ,, men- 33 . > (1 )
Saturnale lib. 1. C 2 ) De Idololat. Orig. lib ». 3. per totum . (3 )
Storia del Cielo Tom. I. C 4 ) Trattat . Storie, della Relig. Tom.
1 . 4 5 ) Yraparat. Evang. lib. I. c. 9. ( 6 ) Tot* owj
xotr A lyuirrov Avd’p'jìTHS ro 7 rcchctiQt ywofJLtviss ccvccfihr^ccvrcce
tov xo$[jlov , xou rlw rctfr oKw xa.rcLT'Kccyv/rcts re xoui rocrras
UTTohccfìett/ uvea Osar otihas re xou irpu- ru$ vihiW) xou rlw <relwnv
y w rov \xiv Osipiv ; rlw ’Be Kit ovoyxKOA rara? Sé .Tttf Ozag
u<pirrocvr<u rov $i[/,tccvtcc xospLw ì>ioixe*v . ( 7
) HA/ok , xcu (reXlw/iv 5 xou r»? Tkoittxs T rKetfY\rots ctrrepccs , xou
rot sto%£cc } xta tvtoìs nwoufiiy pLQvov lyivwsxov .
dell'antica Idolatria. 9 „ menti in oltre con quanto a !or fi
congiunge ,, Finalmente paHando a far parola dei Greci , reca il
bel palio di Platone nel Cratilo, che in queite note fi elprime ( i ): ,,
A me certamente ralfem- ,,bra, che i primi ad abitare la Grecia quelli
fol- „ tanto per Dei riputalfero , che dalla maggior , pane de’
Barbari prefentemente fi adorano , il ’, Sole cioè , la Luna , la Terra ,
gli Altri , il Cie- lo , quali vedendo e.fi con perpetuo corlb
aggi- ,, rarfi , dalla parola ra G«y correre , Aosi Dei li ,,
chiamarono. ,, t Il lèntimento di Eulebio, o di Diodoro, che
dee chiamarli il lèntimento di tutti gli Storici più fenfati , potrebbe!!
agevolmente con facra au- torità comprovare. Mosè ( *J, Giobbe (i ) ,
I* .Autore del libro della Sapienza ( 4 ) col profcri- vere il
culto fuperltiziofo degli Altri, e degli Ele- menti , il fuppongono
tacitamente come il più an- tico , perchè il dipingono come il più
lulinghie- j>o , e capace a pervertire l'umano cuore. Così
fu veramente. Il cuore umano aggirato da un fafeino teuebrofo di
licenziole palliont , am- mollito dal lbverchio amor del piacere , fcollò
dal natio genio d' indipendenza , languido , e indiffe- rente negli
efercizj della Religione , la quale già inftillata nel primo Padre erafi
poi tutta pura da INoè trafmellà ne' difeeudenti , cominciò palio
pal- io a ( 1 ) tyojyovTout tj.ot 01 t porrà ruv P 1 tìpuiruv
rwv Trìpi TW EAÀa^a J T 8 TKf ^JjOVtSi Stai «y«>' 6 cU ,
• WiTTlp vuù T0XK01 TVV (locpQctpW , t{KlOV , XOU xcu ylw, xou
carpa , xou tspcaov . art OVLU tWTOC OpWTK TTOO/TCO OMrl 10 VTCL ,
XOU Piovra, j curo tojuths tìk <piKi'j>s rns tu Orir
Qks curasi (tovoijlkìou . (2) Deuter. c. 4. v. ip. (3) Job.
C. 31. V. 16. 1 ( 4 ) Sap. c. 1 3. Digitized by Google
io Dissert. sull'Origine fo a perdere la giufta idea del vero
Nfume , elio gli brillava all’ intorno con tanta luce* Un guitto* e
terribil giudizio di Dio medeilmo , il quale, come avverte S. Agostino ,
fparge penali tenebre (opra . le illecite cupidigie , permife nell’ Domo
un sì fa- tale dementamento. Chi fdegnava di rendere al Facitore 1’
onor dovuto come a Sovrano , meritò di perder colpevolmente lino le
tracce per ravvi- farlo . Abbandonato così alla stoltezza de' Tuoi
pen- fieri, fcambiò la gloria sfolgoreggiarne, ed immenia dell'
incorruttibile Iddio co'’ limitati river- beri , che ne vedea nelle
Creature. Gli Astri pri- . ma di tutto a lui parvero contrallegnati co'
mag- giori caratteri della Divinità . Quel movimento •. loro non
interrotto , que’ periodi tempre uniformi , quello fplendore Tempre
brillante, quegl' in Aulii : sempre benefìci fermarono il corfo alla di
lui am- mirazione , e riconofcenza , quando pur dovevano lervirgli
di guida per falire ad amar la bontà, a riconofcere la potenza del Creatore .
Egli lciocca- mente impadulò ne’ rulcelli , e dimenticò la lòrgen-
te , e invece di riguardarli come Ministri delle divine beneficenze, li
adorò come Dei. L’ amor proprio , la fuperbia , la mollezza , il
libertinaggio trovarono il loro conto in fimil delirio. Gli Astri
comparivano Dei benigni, comodi, utili, che nul* la eligevano, nulla
vietavano, per nulla al più cor* rotto genio opponevanlì , nè mettean
freno alle più torte inclinazioni . Il culto degli Elementi , della
Terra, del Fuoco, dell’Aria, de’ Venti lì congiun- te ben presto con
quello degli Astri, perchè appog- giato fopra gli stelli principj , e
come un palio mal mifurato lud’un pendio fdrucciolevole cagiona
pre- cipizi Tempre maggiori , fi venne ad attribuire la divinità
alle inlenfibili cole, ed infieme agli utili, e dannofi animali, agli uni
per riconolceili de’ be- nefizi , che fanno agli Uomini \ agli altri per
pla- carli , e distornarli dall’ infierire . L’ antichiflima
opmio- Afojì. ad Rom, c. x. dell' antica Idolatria . n
opinione de’ due Principj buono , e cattivo ebbe for- fè gran parte in
questi folleggiamenti, eia vera- ce , ma poi alterata dottrina degli
Angeli , de’ De- moni , delle Anime de’ trapalfati trovolfi molto
op- portuna per dilatarli. Si volle credere tutta la na- tura
animata . Animati lì tennero gli Astri dagl’ Indiani , dai Caldei, dagli
Egizj , dai Maghi, da Pitagora , da Platone , da Cicerone , da Varrone .
Il mare , i fiumi , le fontane , la pioggia , il tuo- no , le rupi , le
caverne , le pietre , i monti , gli alberi , le piante , gli erbaggi , e
tutti poi gli Ani- mali li coniìderarono come alberghi d’ una
infinità di attive prelìdi Intelligenze producitrici di quelli effetti
or nocevoli , .or vantaggiolt , che feulco- no il fenlo umano . Le Anime
de’ Trapalfati o dalla riconolcenza , o dall’ amor degli Uomini
con- fecrate ricevettero ben prello 1’ Apoteolì , ed ac- crebbero
il numero delle Intelligenze motrici del- la natura . Come Macrobio C i )
, e 1’ Abate Le Pluche ( 2 _),il primo in aria da Filofofo , il
fecon- do in aria da Storico, diffiifamente ci mollrano, Oliride,
Ifidè , Amone,Oro, Serapide degli Egizj ; Zeus , o Dios Giove , Marte ,
Saturno , Venere , Mercurio , Giunone , Cibele de’ Greci , e de’
Roma- ni ; Dionilìo, Urotalt ,e Alilat degli Arabi; Marnas de’
Fililtei; Moloch degli Ammoniti; Adad de’ Sirj ; Adonai , Achad , Architi
, Baelet , Belfamin , Mel- chet de’ Paleltini , non erano da principio
che il Sole, la Luna, o la Terra, e quindi in progredii Anime di
Principi o Principelle, d’ Eroi o Eroi- ne ite a regnar nel Sole, nella
Luna, negli Altri, o a preledere alla Terra. Quindi la turba degl’
Id- dj Confenti o maggiori , degl’ Iddj fecondar) o minori ; e 1’
altra infinita plebaglia di unte varie Divinità regolatrici di tutti gli
effetti , e di tutti gli elleri naturali , quale non meno
accuratamen- te, che leggiadramente ci viene dal grande Ago-
stino ( t ) Saturnal. lib. I. f a J Star, del Ciel. lib. I* i2
Dissert. sull* Origine ftino C 1 J accennata . In Quella guifa le
due opi- nioni del Volito, e del Clerico amichevolmente fi legano
colla opinione comune, e tutte unite ci additano la prima origine del più
grande acceca- mento degli Uomini. ,, Deplorabile acciecamen- ,, to
! (" concluda quello paragrafo il facro Autore del Libro della
Sapienza ) vana illufione di quelli , „ che non conolcono Dio !
Attorniati da’ Tuoi be- ,, nefizj non hanno veduta la mano, che li
dif- „ fonde ; dalla magnificenza delle opere della na- ,, tura non
ne hanuo faputo riconofcere 1’ Artefi- ce . Si fono perfuafi , che il
fuoco , 1’ aria , i ,, venti , le llelle. Tacque, il Sole, la Luna
fof- fero i Dei , che reggono il' Mondo Più „
miferabili ancora , perchè ripongono la lor fìdu- ,, eia in fimulacri
morti , ed inanimati ; elfi dan- „ no il nome di Dei all’ opera della
mano degli „ Uomini , alT oro , all’ argento indullriofamente ,,
lavorati a figure d’ animali , a pietre modellate ,, fecondo il
gulto di un Artefice L’Uomo ,, fi forma un Dio d’ un tronco
inutile, a cui dà •la propria forma dia', oppur quella d’ un Ani- „
male. ,, Qui però vuole avvertirli , che T ufo de’ Si-
mulacri in figura d’ Uomini , e d’ Animali appar- tiene bensì a’ tempi
della già groil'olana , ed avanzata Idolatria , ma non a quelli della
nalcen- te . ,, Un Uom fa J , che dritto ragioni f pro-
fieeue fi) De Civit. Dei lib. V. VI. ( 2 ) AM'
ort y.ev oi rpurrot } koa tMcuot«- TOl TUV (XV&pWTUJV , «Té
VOCUy O/XoBojWfOWf TpO- tìx.o * , «Té hot# ccipttpufjLcuriv j «tu t ore
ypot~ tylXJfc , «Sé xA.afT.XW J yi yAlTTtXW , » « vlpict -
rrOTQITLKH f rCKVYK tpiUpyifAWYIS , 8^£ fJ.IV QLKQÒOUt- *W, B^é
op^iTtKTOVtKVis o-vujKTurrg y ra.ru ry o ifjca mfaoyityj.(vy ìiyiXov
etra*dell'antica Idolatria;. fiegue il noftro Eufebio,
rapportandoli alle telli- monianze di tutti gli Autori gentili ) può
facil- „ mente rimanere perfuafo , che i primi ed an- „ tichiffimi
Uomini niuna fatica , o Audio ripofe- „ ro nel fabbricare Templi , ed
innalzar Simula- cri , non etlèndo Aate per anco inventate le „
Arti della Pittura , della Statuaria , della Scol- „ tura, anzi neppure
1’ Architettonica . „ Quindi dopo avere ripetuto il già detto circa la
primige- nia adorazione degli Astri conclude , che „ da „ principio
niuna menzione vi fu di greca , o di yy babilonica Teogonia , niun ufo di
Simulacri y „ niuna ridevole vanità nella denominazione de- ,, gli
Dei parte mafchj , e parte femmine • fi) È veramente lembra cofa aliai
naturale , che la fòrgente Idolatria ne' vetustiffimi tempi ,
comecché avelie cangiato 1* oggetto della Religion prima e verace ,
non giungeiìè però sì tosto a cangiarne i riti e le cerimonie . Porfirio
fcortato da Teo- frasto , e citato da Eufebio ( 2 J pretende
delinear- ci il religiofo culto innocente degli antichi Poli-
teisti . Ma in verità quell'impostore Filofofo ne- mico giurato del
Cristianefimo nell’ adombrarci ì* estrinseca religione de’ primi
adoratori de’ falfi Dei , non fa che prendere in prestito que’ colori ,
con cui la Scrittura Santa ci adombra la Religione de’ Patriarchi
adoratori del vero Dio. Nulla infatti di più fèmplice e di più fchietto .
Que' fanti IH mi v Uomini negli efercizj di Religione poco
curavanfi dell’esteriore, e del fasto. Ellì la facev.an confi-
stere in picciol numero di estrinfeche azioni , per- fuafi , che il vero
culto è quello del cuore. L’ in- nalzamento de’ Templi non oltrepalla per
avventu- ra l’età di Mosè. Un femplice Altare in un luo- go
( I ) Oux tstpct ng Iw Qtoyoviccs EXXfuwX'f? , # fiapGctpiKK rote
TaXouTaTOtf f «^6/x »; tcw 7\oy<K y • bhe &X.0VW ìlpustS y ìtìt Ó
c. « (a} Prjepar. Evang. lib, J,Djssert. sull’Origine go
mondo , e fpartato , lènza statue e lènza figu* re , lènza adornamenti e
lènza ricchezze , in un bofco , o fovra d’ una eminenza era il luogo
dove Abele , Noè , Abramo , Ifiacco , Giacobbe colle lo- ro
famiglie fi raunavano per tributare all* Altiflìmo i loro voti ed omaggi
. Ivi a Lui predavano le primizie dell’ erbe e de’ frutti , ovvero il
latte , i «radumi , e le lane degli Animali , che dopo il Di- luvio
cominciarono ad immolarli . Ora fu quelle medefime tracce di religiofa
femplicità io tengo per certo , che nella fua infanzia procedette la
Idola- tria . Intela a venerar come Dei il Sole, la Luna, la
milizia celefte, gli elementi , le prelidi Intelli- genze non Teppe sì
tofto ufare altra forma di culto , fe non fe quella , con cui aveva
intefo , e veduto adorarli da’ Patriarchi fedeli il fommo Conditore
dell’ Univerfo . Niun ulo adunque per anco de’ Si- mulacri rapprelentanti
fiotto animalefica , o umana lembianza le pretelè Divinità . Niun ufo di
quelle datue , che rozzamente in feguito , e grottefcamen- te
modellate dagli Egizj , ottennero poi e castiga- to difiegno , e
fipiccata *. motta , ed energico atteg- giamento lotto lo ficalpello
indulìre di Dedalo. An- zi qui dee acconciamente fioggiungerfi , che
anche dopo la coftruzione de’ Templi fi tardò molto prefi* fo le antiche
Nazioni ad ergere in elfi le llatue fi- gurate ; come degli Egiziani
parlando afièrma Lu- ciano , il quale aggiunge ( i ) d’ aver nella
Siria veduti Templi dell’ antichità più remota lènza im- magine , o
rapprefientanza veruna . Che più? Ro- ma detta , che in paragon degli
Egizj , e de’ Greci nacque sì tardi, per oltre anni 170. ( come ci
atte- da Varrone citato ( 2 ) da S. Agofiino ) Simulacri non ebbe (
3 ) ne’ proprj Templi,, finché Tarquinia Fri fico ( 1 }
De Dea Syria . ( 2 ) De Civit. Dei lib . 4. c. 3 1. ( 3_) Dicit
eiiam Varrò , antiquos Rcmanos ylufi quam annos 170. Deos fine
Simulacro coluijje . Qiiod fi adhuc , inquit , manfijjet y caflius
Dii ob - fervarcntur . S. Auguft. citat. dell’antica
Idolatria. t? Prifco Uomo di Greco , e di Tofcano genio tutta
di Simulacri inondolla . Anzi più didimamente aflerifce Zonara ellervi
date leggi , forfè di Numa , £ roibitive a’ Romani di rapprelentare
la immagine livina fotto la forma di Uomo, ovvero di Anima- le .( i
) Ma l’ Idolatria finalmente è l’opera del- le tenebre, e per poco
crefciuta, non potea a me- no di non addenfarle nel cuor dell’Uomo.
L’Uo- mo divenuto più empio circa gli oggetti dell’inter- no fuo
culto , non tardò guari a fard ridicolo circa le maniere di elercitarlo.
Egli avea degradata ab- ballala la fua ragione , adorando come Dei le
fem- plici Creature . Quello medelìmo fpirito di verti- gine il
tratte ben pretto ad avvilirli viemmaggior- menfe coll’ adorare 1’ opera
fletta delle fue mani . Ei volle oggetti fenfibili e materiali anche
all’ •efterno fuo culto. Ei pretefe di circolcrivere li fuoi Dei
per converfarvi più da vicino , ed innal- zò , e venerò .Simulacri . Or
di qual forma erede- rem noi , che follerò in quello genere le prime
in- venzioni dell’ umana ttoltezza > Quali gli fcogli , in cui
da quella banda urtarono primamente gli Uomini deliranti ? Eccomi alla
feconda parte della Dittertazione pervenuto, ed eccomi al punto di
nia- nifeltare la mia opinione . Io reputo adunque
probabiliflìmo , che follerò in primo luogo i Pilieri , o le grotte
pietre qua- drate , le quau chiamate furon Betilie , e che ori-
f linariamente non erano, che Are ferventi alle rc- igiole
adunanze. Sanconiatone , Scrittore antichit- fimo delle tradizioni
Fenicie , portato da Portino fino alle ftelle , e da Lui creduto
informatilfimo della Storia Giudaica , come non molto dittante
dalla età di Mosè , nel celebre fuo frammento , là dove narra le imprefe
del Dio Urano , o Cielo , affer- ( i ) At'typvrou$v ,
xan tyofiop$ov nxwa. tu Sa eariSTca Pvy.yjois aTe-r/wcoo'. / uuar . Tom.
a . y. io- I T 6 DlSSEftf. sull* Ortgtné
afferma, che ,, Egli trovò le Betilie ( i ) coftrtien- „ do con inlolita
mirabil arte Pietre animate. ,, Io non ho letto di tale Frammento fé non
la ver- done greca fatta già da Filone Biblico , e riporta- ta
diftefamente da Eufebio . ( 2 J So, che il Si- gnor di Gebelin colla
fpiegazione di quello antico irjonumento ha fatto vedere, che il
Traduttor gre- cò ne avea malamente recato il lenfo, e che ridu-
cendo i termini al vero loro fignificato , 1 ’ Autor Fenicio trovali
uniforme al Legislator degli Ebrei. (3) Checché ne fia , dilHetto non
vengami di le- guir le tracce già legnate dal grande Uezio , e
dall* erudito Calmet , affermando , che Sanconiatone in quell’
accennato ritrovamento delle Betilie , e co- struzion di Pietre animate
ci adombra , benché in modo affai alterato , la vera Storia del celebre
mo- numento, o Altare di Giacobbe. Quest’ottimo Pa- triarca (~ 4 J
nel fuo viaggio da Berfabee in Melo- potamia postoli in certo luogo a
dormire fu di un grande , e ruvido Saffo acconciatoli a forma di
guan- ciale , ebbe la sì nota vifion della Scala corfeggia- ta
dagli Angeli , fu la di cui lòmmità appoggiato flava 1 ’ AltilTìmo , da
cui lènti rinnovarli le grandi promelfe fatte ad Abramo . Deftatofi egli
, efcla- mò Quanto è mai terribile quello luogo / Vera- mente non è
egli altro , che la Cafa di Dio , e la porta del Cielo . Diede a quel
luogo il nome di Beth - el , che lignifica nell’ ebreo linguaggio
Cafa. di Dio Conlècrò il Saffo, che la notte lèrvUo gli aveva di
guanciale , verfandovi dell’ Olio , e in monumento 1 * erefle. Quindi
concependo un Vo- to , il conclufe col dire cs II Signore farà il
mi® Dio se e quella Pietra chiameraffì Cafa di Dio c 5 ( I )
Et/ miwe 0»? Oupcao? ( 2 ) Pr*p. Evang. lib . I. c. 9. C 3 ) AUeg.
Orien- tai. p. 22. e 9 5. Memor. de V Accad. des Infcrip* T . 6 1.
in 12. p, 24 3. (4) Cenef. 28. 18. Dalla
V* dell'antica Idolatria; 17 Dalla Mefopotamia
tornando nella Terra di Ca* naan , giunto allo Stello luogo , e Soddisfar
volen- do al già fatto voto d’ offerire a Dio la decima de’ Tuoi
beni , innalzò fimil mente un Altare di pietra , e replicò il nome di
Beth - el , Cafìz di Dio. Finalmente di bel nuovo in que’ contorni
felicitato dall’ apparizien del Signore , nove! mo- numento di pietra
cortrulle , d’ olio , e di liba- zioni Spalmandolo, ed a lui pure
comunicando la denominazione di Beth - el . Io ammetterò , che
quello termine Beth - el dato agli Altari , ed ai mo- numenti facri , quanto
all’ edema efprelfione , fofr fe uri ritrovamento di Giacobbe; ma
follerrò con egual verità, che quanto all’ idea , ed all’interno .
concetto degli Uomini ei difcendelfè dalla tradi' zion più rimota. Beth -
el , Caja di Dio , potea fi- milmente confiderai , e chiamarli 1’ Altare
nell* ulcir dall’ Arca edificato dal buon Noè , perchè ivi 1’
AltiSTimo a lui diede fegni fenfibili di fua prelenza , e mifericordia .
Beth-el per Somiglian- te ragione potea appellarli 1’ Altare edificato
da Abramo fui monte Moria per fagrificare il Figliuo- lo; éd egli
infatti chiamò quel monte Dominus vi - debit. Beth-el giuftamente nomar
fi poteano tutti gli Altari innalzati da’ Patriarchi fedeli per ufo
an- tichilfimo, forle dagli antidiluviani fecoli proceden- te ,
perchè tutti onorati da qualche' Speciale com- mercio della Divinità ,
percnè diftinti da qualche fuperna verfata beneficenza , perchè in certo
modo protetti , ed invertiti dal Nume , e destinati a tri- butargli
culto , Sacrifizio , e riconofcenza dalle cir- costanti Generazioni
. Ora da quefti Altari , e monumenti di pietra , chiamati da
Giacobbe per la prima volta Beth - el , cioè Caja di Dio , e già tenuti
per tali fino da* remotiSfimi tempi , chi non conofce ( entra qui
acconciamente il Le Pluche) (i J etìerne derivate le sì note Betilie ,
quelle grolle pietre quadrate , B che to Stor. del
Cielo , 1 8 D r SSERT. SULL* ORIGINE che con ol) preziofi , ed aromatiche
eircnze irriga- vano , e che poi furono in tanti luoghi oggetto di
veturtiffima adorazione, come da più Autori , e no- minatamente da Fozio
nella fua Biblioteca dinto- ftrafi ? Chi non conofce dal Bethel di
Giacobbe C foggiunge opportunamente il Voflìo ) ( i ) deri- vato il
famofò Betilos , quel (allo prelentato a Sa- turno invece di Giove, come
per relazione favo- lofa Efichio ( 2 ) ci narra , e che ottenne poi
tan- to culto dalla forfennata Gentilità ? Ed io al Vof- iìo , ed
al Le Pluche fottofcrivendomi , concludo : Chi non conofce in quelti
monumenti, ed Altari il primo inciampo degl’ Idolatri , ed il primo
og- getto fènfìbile , e materiale delle adorazioni fuper- ìtiziofe
? Mettiamci di grazia in varj punti di villa naturalismi . Confideriamo
il genere umano dopo la confufion delle lingue , e la differitone
delle .Nazioni già prefo da uno fpirito di vertigine , e già
declinante al Politeifmo . Malgrado le volon- tarie tenebre , che
incominciano ad acciecarlo et l'erba tuttora nel cuore il fème della religion
pri- migenia ; e nella memoria i fagri riti, e le reli- giofe
cerimonie dal Patriarca Noè tramandate . Egli perciò innalza, e confagra
in ogni luogo pie- tre modellate a fòggia d’ Altare per onorarvi la
Divinità : ei vi ft proftra all’ intorno: ci vi ce- lebra le religiofè
adunanze : ei vi prefenta i Tuoi Sagrifizj , comecché forfè non più al
folo , e vero Nume, nta agli altri ' ancora , agli elementi, agli
fpiriti . Ei fa però , ed una tradizione non rimo- ta glielo rammenta ,
che il primo Riparatore de- gli Uomini dopo il Diluvio ergendo un limile
Al- tare , il vide torto adombrato dalla fènfibil pre- lenza , e
maeftà dell’ Altiflìmo difeefo in atto di ricevere , e di gradire
placabilmente i fuoi Olo- caufti . CO De PhU. ChriJIUn.
C? Theol. Gent. Vib. 6. t. :p. ( 2 ) BatTuho? «toj fjtocXe-fTO o
AtGo; to> K poeti) cari &ios , Dell* antica
Idolatria; taufti . Comecché la Scrittura noi dica , io noa
credo temerità 1* aderire , che limili degnazioni compartifle talvolta il
Signore anche ai Figliuoli, o ai Nipoti di Noè , che fi mantenner fedeli
pri- ma d' Aoramo. Ben il vecchio Sacerdote, e Re di Salem
Melchifedecco ne avea tutto il merito. Checché ne fia , certamente il
genere umano non può non confiderar quelle pietre , od Altari , che
qual cola rilpettabile , e (anta. Fi le vede fèrbate ad un culto Speciale
della Divinità , e ad un peculiar commercio col Cielo : ei le vede
in- nalzate o per rinnovar la memoria d' alcun luper- no
ricevuto favore , o per invitar gli animi ad una fedele riconofceitza :
ei le vede anche ufate per edere teftimonio , e monumento durevole
delle al- leanze , de' patti , delle folenni prometle , e de' giu-
ramenti , ne’ quali s’ interpone il tremendo nome » e la Maeftà Divina.
Gli efempli , che fu di ciò abbiamo nella Scrittura , non fanno , che
dinotarci una vetuftidìma poftumanza. A tutto quello s' ag- giunga
1' opinione già di fopra accennata , e che fi- no dai primi tempi fi
propagò fra i mortali , cioè che tutto ripieno folle d’ Intelligenze
regolatrici degli elleri , e degli effetti della natura . Con-
nettali pure l’altra opinione d’ antichità non mi- nore da S. Agoffino
rammentataci ( i J colle pa- role del celebre Mercurio Trifmegifto , cioè
che per certe conlecrazioni rimanellèro li Simulacri non pure
inveititi , ma realmente animati dalli Dei venuti ad abitarvi , affin di
nuocere, o d? giovare più da vicino ai loro adoratori . Ciò , che
forfè adombrar volle Sanconiatone con quella ef- preffione di 7 ^ 0
^$ Pietre animate. Con- siderando noi il genere umano in tali
profpetti , qual cola più probabile, e naturale a concluderli, eh'
egli , parte abufando delle antiche tradizioni veraci , parte ingannato
dalle nuove folli perlua- B 2 fioni, C t J De Civit.
Dei lib. 7. e. 23. e 24* f 2 o Dissert. sull*
Origine fioni j e già rilbluto di voler oggetti fenfibili al
proprio culto , cominciale ben pretto a venerare quegli Altari , que’
monumenti di pietra , quelle Eetilie , .riguardandole o come Alberghi
della Di- vinità , o come fimboli della prefenza divina , e
finalmente , tempre più creteendo 1* accecamen- to , come tanti veraci
Iddii ? Se il genere umano è pure intefiato di adorare l’opera delle tee
ma- ni , qual cofa più reverenda , e più degna di culto ai di lui occhi
pretentali , che i mentovati Altari , o monumenti , o Betilie ?
Qui vorrà alcuno per avventura obbjettarmi , che quando trattali
d’antichità olcurilfima , più che^ col raziocinio , voglionfi colla
fioria , e co’ fatti fiabilir le opinioni j ed io non fono per
conten- derlo. Forte però, che l’opinione da me propo- sta non li
deduce naturalmente in gran parte dai Libri Storici di Mosè , i quali (
lanciando anche ftare quella ifpirazione divina , che li confacra,
e mirandoli tei con occhio di Filotefo non tumido per alterezza ,
nè da paliioni alterato ) ben va- gliono aliai più, che tutti li Vedam
de’Bramini, gli Zend di Zoroaftro , i Kinghi di Confucio , e di
Se-ma-fiien, ed i racconti favololi di Erodo- lo ? Pur i*on fi creda ,
che io voglia in quella ma- teria lafciare affatto il mio Leggitore
digiuno di monumenti , e di autorità . Il Volilo C i )
rapportaci , che il Beth - el , o Pietra di Giacobbe , di cui tanto
abbiamo parlato , fu a fomiglianza del Serpente di bronzo , per lun-
ga età foggetto di fuperfiiziofa adorazione a molti Giudei , finché da’
veri Ifraeliti prete giuftameu- te in abbominio , gli fu cambiato il nome
di JBef/i- el % Cafa di Dio, in quel di Beth - ave , cioè Cafa
della Menzogna . Quali poi furono i primi Simulacri degli
Ara- bi , tra i quali i Moabiti , e gli Ammoniti fi com-
prendevano? Gli Autori antichi, a’ quali rappor- tali i )
lai’, d. r. 2p. dell’ antica Idolatria. 21' tali il
Calmet , e che ci parlano delle prime Divinità di que’ Popoli , le
defcrivono come fem- pjici Pietre informi, o fcalpellate, ma non
con umana forma. ,, Voi ridete, dice Arnobio, (2) „ che ne’ vetufti
tempi gli Arabi adoraflero una ,, Pietra informe . „ Malììmo Tirio ( 3 )
o di que* ito , o d’ altro Arabico Simulacro parlando il chia- nia
Tfrrpxyjìm Pietra, quadrangolare. Ed Eu- timio Zigabeno nella fua
Panoplia ragionando co’ Saraceni : ,, Ed in tjual modo , efclama , voi
ab- ,, bracciate la Pietra di Brachthan , e la baciate ? ,, Alcuni
rilpondono : Perchè Abramo fopra di efc „ fa eboe il fuo primo
commercio con Agar. Al- ,, tri poi : Perchè ad ella legò il fuo CameTo
quan- ,, do fu per lagrifìcare Ilàcco . f 4 ) „ Non pen- io di
meritar la taccia di capricciofo , fe giudico quelle Pietre adorate in
feguito nell’ Arabia nuli* altro elfere fiate da principio, che vetulte
Beti- lie , o rozzi Altari fors’ anche al vero Dio confe- crati .
Certamente Mosè , ("5 J in ciò ieguendo S er avventura la
tradizione , e il più vetullo co- ume , prefcrive , che di rozze Pietre
dal ferro non tocche , e informi fallì , ed impoliti follerò gli
Altari , che dopo il patlàggio del Giordano fi volelfero al Dio d’
Ifraello innalzare; e nuli’ al- tro , che grandi Pietre fpalmate alquanto
di calce folfero i monumenti defiinati. a fcrivervi lòpra le parole
della legge. Temette forfè il grande Le- B 3 gisla- ( 1 ) 7
efor. cP Antich. tratto dai Coment, del Cal- met T. 2. ( 2 J Lib. 6 . C 3
J Sermon. 3 8. ( 4 ) Ili* VfJUHi TposrpiQtsrt toj ?u 9 u» t ts
Bpxyficxv j xou tpiKsirt raro» ; kou tiiik j aa> ewrw tpctti y %tQTi
tir coki) aura s trasloca rn Ay cefi 0 Afipaont. AÀA01 ?>£ ori
rpotilìiKur carro» thv xxiju iXov , fJ.iKho»r (jusai rov I sotux. .
C s ) Deuter. 27. 5.22 Dissert. sull’Origine gislatore , che
fé tali monumenti , ed Altari fi f 0 f. fero con più eleganza collutti ,
divenilfero più fa- cilmente al rozzo fuo Popolo, e vacillante
pietra d’inciampo, e fomento d’idolatrica fuperllizione . E
qui , giacché dell’ Arabica fuperllizione ho fatto parola , voglio
avvertire, che della per lungo tem- po mantenne!! nella lua primigenia
feniplicità. Giobbe Arabo, o Idumeo , forfè contemporaneo ,
le- non anteriore a Mosè, accenna lenza meno l’ Ido- latria del fuo
Pael'e. Or ei non parla nè di lla- tue , nè di figure . Indica fidamente
1’adorazione , ed il faluto del Sole , e della Luna, che poi Uroralt, ed Alilat
furono nominati . Se- gno manifelto, che fra que’ popoli non fi era
introdotto per anco quel lopraccarico di moftruole follie, con cui dalle
Scolture Egiziane rimale ag- gravata l’ Idolatria. Che fe non pertanto
gli Ara- bi ab antico proltravanfi a Pietre informi , o qua- drate
, quali io reputo Betilie , ed Altari , ben con- cluder potrai!! , che
quelli follerò il primo. fco- glio, e il primo fcandalo al/ materialifmo
de’ più antichi Politeilli . Teltiinonio ne facciano i primi
Abitatori del- la Germania . Colloro finché rimaforo nella vern-
ila loro rozzezza, finché la fuperllizione fra eli! col commercio delle
arti Greche , e Romane non giunfe a farli più vaga infieme , e più llolta
, al- tri Simulacri non ebbero, come Tacito ( a J av- verte , che
folli informi di legno , e di rozze pie- tre . Erano quelle le forme
degl’ Iddii , che por- tavanocon elfo loro alla guerra , penlando ,
che folle un offendere la Divinità il rapprelèntarla fotto umana
fembianza . Ciò , che pure da molti altri C. 31. v. 16. ( 2 J
De Morìb. Germart. Sta- tua ex stipitibus rudibus , i? impolito
lapide effi- gi e s , CP Jìgna quxdam detracia luci s in prxlium
ferunt . Nec cohibere parietibus Deos , ncque in ullam humani oris
Jpeciem affimilare ex magni- tudine cotlejìium arbitrantur. altri
Popoli di non peranche ingentilito collume , per quanto narrano gravi
Autori , collantemente penfolfi . Ma e dove lalcio la celebre Madre
degl* Iddìi , o fia Cibele di Frigia portata in Roma da Pelìinunte
col miniftero di Scipione Nafica , e da* Romani ottenuta per mediazione
del Re di Perga- mo al tempo della feconda guerra Cartagine!?
? Livio le dà il nome di fagra Pietra„ Pietra informe la chiama
Minuzio Felice . Arno- bio la defcrive come una Selce non grande di
forco, ed atro colore , e per angoli prominenti ineguale . Eravi fra quei
Popoli tradizione , che quella Pietra caduta folle dal Cielo, e che
ap- punto da jrK&y cadere la Città Pelfinunte folle Hata
chiamata . La Grecia ftefTa non fu priva di quelle fog- gie
di Simulacri. Paufania ci attefta, che in una loia parte d’ Acaja furono
da trenta Pietre taglia- te in quadro , aventi ciafcuna il nome di una
qual- che Divinità , e con fomma venerazione riguarda- te , fendo
llato collume antico de* Greci il prellar culto a limili Pietre , non
meno di quello , che pofcia faceflèro alle figure, e alle llatue. Mi farà
egli difdetto il probabilmente congetturare per le ragioni di fopra
addotte , che quelle , ed altre* limili Pietre di Grecia nuli’ altro da
principio fof- fero , che Betilie ? Servirono un tempo a niun altro ufo,
che agli efercizj delle facre adunanze. L* Idolatria col farli più tenebrola
giunte a diviniz- zarle . Betilie ùmilmente , o imitazione fenza
me- no delle Betilie pollòno crederli gli Ermi , di cui la Grecia ,
e Roma furono ripiene , e che pofcia ad abellire fervirono fpecialmente
le Biblioteche. Bili non erano da principio , che tronchi informi
di legno , o di marmo , o di pietre tagliate in quadro fenza mani ,
e fenza piedi : T runcoque fiinillimus Her- inu?, dille Giovenale.
("3) Ne* quattro di loro lati pretendeva!! dinotare o le quattro
ltagioni, o le quat- B 4 tro ( 1 J Lib. 2$4 ( 2 J Lib .
6 • ("3 ) SiiU 8. 1 '24 Dissert. sull* Origine .
tro parti del Mondo. Si confiderarono poi come ilatue degli Dei , e
di Mercurio principalmente „ Il di lui capo , che vi fi aggiunfe , fu
fenza meno un poderiore ornamento. Anche il Dio Termine non fu
nell* età più vetude rapprefentato , che fot- to la figura di grolfi
Saffi quadrati , cubici , privi di mano, e di piede : Ttrpctywoi ,
xuQoziìitls y K'Xttp&y xou airone? ; quantunque al Dio Termine
pur s* aggiungere la teda umana ne’ fecoli confeguen- ti . E che
non può in quella parte una matta per- fuafione a poco a poco crelciuta
fra i barlumi di tradizioni parte vere* e parte mendaci? A tutti è
noto , che da molti Popoli fi giunte per fino a ve- nerare le Montagne ,
quali grandilfimi Simulacri della Divinità. Il monte Atlante era il Dio
de- gli AfFricani. Occidentali : un monte il Dio de* Oappadoci per
allerzione di Malfimo Tirio : Moni a pud Cappadoces prò Deo ejl , prò jur
amento , atquc Simulacrum . Un monte , o fia rupe SxotéA© r y
xoputplw il chiama Stefano , ( i ) rifcoire pure adorazione dagli
Arabi. Giove fi venerava nella cima de’ più alti monti , come dell’
Olimpo , del Callo , dell’ Ida ; e il nome quindi ne rifcuotea di
Giove Oljmpico , di Giove Cafio , di Giove Ideo . Gl’ Italiani ilelfi
predarono al monte Appennino venerazione , come apparifce da una
Ifcrizione ri- ferita dal Matfèi nel tuo Mufeo Veronefe, la qua- le
comincia IOVI APENINO. Ora e per qual ra- gione crederemo noi , che
adorati veniflero tal» monti , te non per la della , che confecrate
avea le Betilie ? Ce la prelenta naturalmente il Berge- ro . ( 2 )
Fu fcelta la cima de’ monti per offrirvi de’ facrihzj , perchè
credevano gli Uomini d’ e fie- re più vicini al Cielo, e conseguentemente
agli Dei, qualora fi adoravano gli Altri. Per tal mo- tivo
(" i ) In Avsccpq . ( 2 ) Trattai, della vera Relig. ìf
tfvo <i feielfero le pili alte. Tali cime per eli .«lercizj della
Religione confècrare ben predo dir vennero rilpettabili Immaginoifi , che
gli Dei vi fodero difcefi^ p®* ricevervi T’ incenfo , e gli omag-
gi degli Uomini. Pài non vi volle. Riguardata prima come abitazione de*
Numi , fi confidcrarono ben predo quai Simulacri immenfi animati
dalla Divinità, ed ottennero una fpecie d’Apoteofi. . Gon
quanto fi è da me finora ragionato, e che, le il tempo lo permettelle ,
con altre notizie, e cagioni facilmente potrebbe!* dilatare, io
giudico refa ormai probabile la opinione di chi accinger vogliali a
fo denere , che. i primi Simulacri delìq Gentilefche Divinità fodero
femplicl Pietre riqua- drate , od informi, fenza alcuna umana, q
anima- • Jefca fembianza . Reda ora , che alcuna cola ragionili de*
Simu» * a , cr * ° rot °ndi , o tendenti a rotondità, a cui pre- ito
fuo culto primiero la cieca' fuperdizione , pfi* ma che folle ai figuri
te Statue provveduta. Io non fono per ripetere quanto di fapra
ba* ftevolmente ti £ detto intorno a| culto degli Adri* e degli
Elementi , degli Spiriti, e degli Eroi. Ag- giungerò (blamente , che non
sdendo per anche giunto lo fcalpello Adirio , o. Egiziano a rapprefentar
le figure degli Uomini, e degli Animali, e per elprelfioni di Arnobio , (
i J avanti 1’ ufo , e U difciplina della fcoltura , già penfato
avea 1* Idolatria a procacciarli , oltre le Betilie , oggetti
temibili alle lue adorazioni. Gonfiitevano quelli iti certi fimboli q
dinotanti, la potenza, e dabi- hta de’ Numi , o adombranti in qualche
modo alcuna or qualità, J Battoni , le Verghe, le Afte, che al dir di
Trago Pompeo (a) furono la prima “^gna .dei Re, lignificavano il fommo
imperio . de Numi, Le colonne, i cilindri , le pur non erano una
imitazione più ‘ ingrandita dei Badoni da comando, ne accennavano l’
eternità. Gli Obe- B 5 Ufchi, ' fi) Lib, & (Lib %
ultima t6 Dissert. sull*
Origine lifchi , le Piramidi , i Coni efprimevano i »gg* «}el
• Sole , e delle Stelle , o la natura del fuoco , che -in alto vibrava!!
acuminato. Menianrto pur buone a Porfirio ( i ) le interpretazioni sì
fatte . Concediamogli ancora, fe piace , che tali monu- menti
alzati dalla pili vetulla gentilità non fi ri- guarda fiero da principio
, che come fimboli , o meri Pegni d’ onore . Il Volfio , e forfè con
trop- po impegno, è dello fleflo parere ; ma poi di Por- firio più
ragionevole , perchè non tanto foffifta , nè così empio , s’ arrende a
concludere , che ben pretto divennero occafione di lcandalo alla
materiale Idolatria , e oggetto furono di profane ado- razioni . Elfi in
una parola ne’ primi tempi flet- terò in luogo di quelle ftatue figurate,
che poi ot- tenner l’ incenfo dalle corrotte umane generazio- ni .
E qui bramo s’ avverta ? che dove di fopra io dilli , aver preffo molte
nazioni tardato non poco le ftatue ad innalzarfi ne’ Templi anche dopo
la erezione de’medefimi, io intefi favellar foltanto delle Statue
rapprefentanti le Teodie fotto la forma di Uomo , oppur d’ Animale ; ma non
volli giammai includere i Simulacri , per così dire , fim- Eolici ,
e non aventi figura . Quelli fono anteriori , non pure alla ftabil mole de’
grandi Templi , ma eziandio a quei Padiglioni, o Tabernacoli, o
Tempietti portatili , con cui gli antichi Idola- tri ebbero in ul'o di
condurre a patteggio i loro Numi . Ora di quelli non figurati
Simulacri parlando , m’aprirò il varco con l'autorità di Filone
Bibli- co ( aj , il quale nel fuo proemio alla interpreta- zione di
Sanconiatone, diftinguendo gli Dei immor- tali , come il Sole , e la Luna
, dagli Dei mortali , cioè da que’ Principi , ed Eroi , che per le
loro getta avevano confeguita l’ Apoteofi , ci avverte «fiere flato
vetullo immcmorabil collume , fpecialmente (ij Apud Eufeb. Trap.
Evang. lib, 3. c. 7. (a) JW. lib. 1. e. 9. mente degli
Egiziani , e Fenici , da’ quali preferì norma le altre fazioni, d’
innalzare a quelle Chili d’Iddii Colonnette, o Baftoni , o fia Scettri di
le- • J_ - -t fn..: ninmimpntl il nome di (cerando.
(i),„ Sanconiatone poi nel fuo frammento racconta- ci fa J,
che molti fecoli prima della coftruzione de’ Templi, e formazione delle
Statue Ufoo primo navigatore avea dedicate due Colonne %uo sTtfKxS
al fuoco , e al vento, e prellato ad entrambe cul- to , e
facrificio col fangue degli Animali. Proiie : f He indi a narrare ,
che dopo la morte de primi roi già divinizzati la grata pofterita onorata
avea la lor memoria , lotto i loro nomi confecrando ver- ghe , e
colonne, e con feftivi giorni , e fagre ce- rimonie adorandole .
Finalmente ci addita , che dopo lunghiffima età fu innalzata al Dio Agro
vera effigiata Statua nella Fenicia . .. Giu Teppe Ebreo f 3
) non diubmigliantl noti- zie prefentaci , aderendo , che i Tir) da
principio a’ loro Dii fornirono Afte , e Baftoni , poi Colon* ne ,
e finalmente le Statue . .Certo nella primitiva Egiziana Scrittura fimbo-
lica ( 4 ) non in altra foggia, che d’ un Bafton da comando con un occhio
efiprimevafi Ofmde , il S uale originariamente fu il Sole ,
fignificar volen- o la fua regale potenza, ed il mirar ch’egli fa
dall’alto tutte le cole. Ed io ben credo efftre agli Eruditi notiffime le
Piramidi , gli Obelifchi , ed i Coni dall’ Egitto al Sole innalzati ,
come per imitar- * i 'Tru'Xas rt , xcu
pa<i; aipitpoiw coope- ro? ccuTiM , xoa rocurot ju.yaAw? ,
kou ioprrccs m/J.or carrots Taf pryisrccs. fi) Apud
Eufeb. ibi c. io. ( 3 ) Cont. Apìon. lib. I. (4J Macrok. SatumaL lib.
I.c. ai. Digitized by Google aS DisserY. ' suit*
Ormine imitarne I fuqi raggi . Da ciò forfè provennero quelle corna
, d* cui in fedito 1 Egizia bizzaria li compiacque ornar gentilmente il
capo del tuo Giove Amone, del fpo Apollo d*Eliopoli,e della fua
Ifide. Ove à no\ piaccia di ftare * certe le- zioni per altro antiche del
tetto di Quinto Cur- zio, CO ammetter dovremo, che 1' Amone ado-
rato da’ Trogloditi , e proceifionalmente a fpalle di Uomini condotto in
una dorata barchetta per aver- ne eli Oracoli , altra forma non avea ,
che d un Goiìò, ó d’ un Ombelico tutto di fmeratdi , e P rc ~ ziofe
gemme fmaltato . Almeno rigettar non po- tralTi 1* autorità di Brodiano,f
2 J il quale ci delcrive il Simulacro del Sole (otto nome di
Elegalu , venerato iq Edeilfo della Siria Apamena • Di tale
Simulacro (e ne può vedere adombrata «. forma in una medaglia pretto il
Vaillant battuta ali* ùltimo e più pazzo degl’ Imperadori Antonini
. Or ecco la defcrizione di Erodiano, giufta la ver- fione latina
fatta dal ^oliziarfo . „ In Edefla non v’ ha Simulacro atta Greca ,
o alla Romana em- ” «iato fecondo P immagine di quel Dio -, ma un
latto grande rotondo da imo > e , a P oco a P oco crefcente in punta
quali a figura di Cono . Nero V, è il color della pietra , cui facciano
eflere ca- V, data dal Cielo. ed affermano quella 1 ”
fer 1* immagine del Sole no n da umano artificio 3y lavnrata Su tali
parole fa una riflettìone op- /.ante voi* citato G^>
del soie : uiciiuc , 7 - , -, *• Tentare gl* Iddìi
fotto umana fembianza fu de po- fteriorf Greci, e Romani. Ma gli Afiatici
più ve., tutti, ecl anche gli Egizj moltq divamente fi *i- P
° rt Chi °fà pertanto, che, fe ci rimane^ro le me- rie delle più antiche
orientali Divinità , ^noi^noi* mone Lib. s. (2) Lih 5- CO Uh.
9. c. io > dell'antica IdoiatrYa. 19 le trovaffimo
quali tutte in figura di Colonne , d? Obelifchi , di Piramidi , o di Coni
rappreleutate ? Certo non fenza ragione i Settanta hanno in co(ìu«
me di traslatar per Colonne la voce ebrea Matgaba , che ordinariamente
traduce!! per ljìatue ; e come il Calmet ( t J ci avverte , il nome di
Colonne lem- bra meglio corrifpondere al lignificato del termine
originale. Forfè que’ dottilììmi Interpreti vollero dinotare la forma
antica , con cui 1 ’ Oriente , e la Terra di Canaan rapprefentar foleva i
fuoi Numi ; E forfè Mosè coll’ imporre , che fi demolillèr tutte le
ftatue delle profane incontrate Divinità , nuli’ altro impofe nella
maggior parte , che la demolizio- ne di Piramidi , e di Colonne . Dilli
nella maggior parte, e non in univerfale, poiché quel Sacrifica-
verunt fiulptilibus Canaan , che abbiamo nel Salmo 105. , mi lece ellèr
più continente nelle parole . E de’ famofi Serafini di Rachele , primo
monumento d’ Idolatria materiale , che s’ incontri nella Scrittura, e
degli altri Idoletti elìdenti prellb la làmiglia di Giacobbe dalla
Melopotamia recati, che diremo noi ? S’ io pretendelfi figurarmeli come
piccioli Coni , o colonnette , con quai monumenti , ed autorità po-
trei ellère contradetto? Per verità io miro Giacob- be , che intefo a
ripurgare la fua Famiglia , pren- de , e (otterrà , non folo gl’ Idoli
chiamati Dei ftra- nieri : Deos alienos , ma angora i pendenti , che
fi trovavano all’ orecchie de’ fuoi feguaci Io non crederò
già, che le Pedone della comitiva di Giacobbe , e malTìme le piilfime
Donne Lia , e Rachele ardlllèro di portare sfacciatamente agli
orec- chi appefe le (lamette, od immagini d’ alcuna pro- fana
Divinità . Primieramente potrebbe!! con tut- ta ragione foftenere , che
di que’ tempi non eranò peranco T. 2. DiJJìrt. de' Templi
degli Antichi . Genef C. 25. Dederunt ergo ei omnes Dcos alienos ,
quos habebant , IP inaures , qua : erant in auribus eorum. At ille
infodit eas subter Terebin -thum .30 Dissert. sull* Origine perineo in
ufo le dame figurate. Le Rabbiniche tradizioni dell’ arte datuaria
efercitata fuperdiziofa- mente da Tare Padre di Àbramo fono già
(eredi- tate prellò degli Eruditi. La pretefa antichità della Statua di
Nino alzata a Belo fuo Padre rella dai calceli dell’UHèrio fmentita. Nino
regnò in Affi- na parecchj fecoli dopo Giacobbe . All’etàdique^ fio
Patriarca il Sole , gli Aflri , e malfime il fuoco adorati nella Caldea ,
Affiria , e Mofopotamia probabiliffimamente non aveano che Simulacri fimbolici.
Quando pure fenza fondamento ammetter fi voleflèro le Statue figurate ai
giorni dello ftefiò Giacobbe, io non potrò perfuadermi giammai, che
1’Uom fanto permeili avelie in alcun tempo ne’ fuoi l’ irreligiol'a
ollentazione di tenerle appele agli orecchi, comecché per folo ornamento
. Il motivo ideilo, oltre a varj altri, che addurre potrei, mi trattiene
dal fottolcrivermi all’ opinione del Grazio, e del Wandale , i quali
pretendono , che tali orecchini follerò fuperdiziofi Amuleti .
Quale relazione adunque degli orecchini cogl’ Idoli per dovere
anch’ «Ili meritare il fotterramento ? Se avefi fi luogo ad edernare un
mio non inverifimil pen- dere, direi , che la relazione confidelle in una
cer- ta edrinfeca fomiglianza colla fimbolica figura degl’ Idoli .
Forle l’ ornato di quegli orecchini potea edere qualche gemma , o
preziofo metallo cadente , e travagliato a maniera di goccia , di cono, o
vergherà, che molto raflòmiglialTe la forma appunto degl’ Idolatrici
Simulacri . Quindi Giacobbe volen- do abolita per fempre di quedi ultimi
la memoria predo de’luoi, nalcolè unitamente fotterra tutti quegli
ornamenti, che per la loro forma, e lavoro potuto avrebbero in alcun
tempo rifvegliarne la rimembranza. Ma fi torni in carriera , e col Voffio
( i ) ornai fi rammenti , che non in figura umana , ma bensì in
figura di colonne o piramidi acuminate furono i Si-
Lib. g. c. 5. i Simulacri , a cui nei primi , e più rimoti
fuoi tem- pi l’ idolatrante Grecia prodrofli ; che le per con-
ientimentò di tutti gli Autori ebbe la Grecia dagli Orientali , e dall'
Egitto principalmente i fuoi Nu- mi , e le cerimonie di Religione , farà
quella una riprova novella, che di cilindrica, piramidale, o conica
forma federo i Simulacri almen più vetulli dall’Oriente, e dall' Egitto
inventati. Ora nuli’ altro appunto , che una Colonna fu la
Giunone Argiva. Ce lo atteda Clemente Alef- fandrino ( i ) recando alcuni
verlì di un vecchio Poeta Greco in lode di Callitoe prima Sacerdo-
tellà di quella Diva predò gli Argivi . Io mi farò lecito di darne una
mia Traduzione; Della Donna del Ciel preliede al Tempio Clavigera
Callitoe , che intorno Di ferti , e bende un dì già ornò primiera
Dell’ Argiva Giunon 1 ’ alta Colonna . Non altro , che femplici
acuminate Colonne , o Piramidi furono i Simulacri podi ad Apollo , e
a Diana, come lo Scaligero (3 ) dalle antiche me- morie deduce. Non
altro, erte una rozza Colon- na di legno la Statua di Pallade Attica. ,,
Quan- „ to ( dicea perciò Tertulliano) ( aJ diltinguelt ,, dallo
dipite d' una croce la Pallade Attica , o „ la Cerere Farrea , che lènza
effigie coda d’ un „ rozzo palo , e d’ un legno informe . Un legno
„ non dolato ( proliegue Arnobio ) ( $ ) adorodì ,, da que’ di Caria in
luogo di Diana : in luogo „ di Giunone un Pluteo da que’ di Samo ; un’
Atta „ dai Romani in luogo di Marte , come le Mule » ài
'Zrpuu.eerwv I K «XfaQoti cXifjLTtcìbos BajiAtw H/W fi
pryutK W> {Tìia/axsi , XM buiOCVOKl ripa irti tx.orjj.tKur rtpt tttwx
jJMxpw curctsitK . Ad an. Eufib. 377, f 4 ) AJverf. Cent.
C 5 J Lib. 6. 3 2 Dissert. suix’ Origine „ di Vairone ci
additano. ,, E giacché Arnobio un Romano Autore ha citato , qui giovi
connet- terne un altro , cioè Trogo Pompeo , o fia il Tuo
Compilatore Giurino ( i ) , il quale d’ Amulio ,~e di Numitore parlando
ultimi fra i Re d’ Alba , in quella foggia h efprime. ,, In que’ tempi
tuttora ,, dai Re invece di Diadema portavanfi 1 ’ alle » ,, che
lcettri dai Greci furon chiamate. Conciof- ,, liachè dalla prima origine
delle cofe furono ado- ,, rate 1 ’ Alle in luogo de’ Simulacri degl'
Iddii im- ,, mortali . Ed in memoria di tal religione ai Si- „
mulacri degl’ Iddii tuttora 1' Alte s’ aggiungono. „ Finalmente non altro
, che un rozzo malconcio legno , e deforme» liccome Ateneo ( 2 ) ne fa
fede era il Simulacro di Latoua prello a quelli di Deio y c per fitìfatta
guilà ridevole, che al ibi vederlo n’ ebbe a icoppiar dalle rifa quel
Parmenilco di Metaponto , che dopo 1 * ufeita dall’ antro di Tri-
ionio non avea rifo giammai. Quindi non ci ltu- piremo altrimenti al fapere»
che un breve defeo attaccato ad una lunghi ifima pertica folle il
Simu* lacro del Sole venerato da que’ di Peonia ; e che informi
tronchi , maltagliati , e fenz' arte fodero 1 Numi degli antichi Germani
» e de’ prilchi Galli , come ne allicura Lucano . ( 3 ) Molto mena furem
meraviglia in vedere queiti primi idolatrici monumenti di legno più tolto
, che d’ altra mate- ria lavorati . Per poco che fiali nell’
erudizione verfato » non può ignorarli » che i Simulacri pri- mieri
dell’ ancor giovane Idolatria materiale , giu- lta il collume degli
Orientali pattato nella Grecia » e nel Lazio, furono quali comunemente d’
argil- la, o di legno , a cui fuccedè ben prello il mar- mo »
quindi i metalli v e finalmente 1’ avorio . Non lafcianci dubitarne i be'
palli, che abbiamo in C O Lib. 43. (z) Mb. 5.
( 3 ) Simulacraque moejla Deorum Arte careni , caefisque
extant informia truficis . in Ifiaia ( i ) , in Geremia ( 2 ) in Ofiea
(3), e nel Libro della Sapienza ( 4 ) . Gli eleganti verfi poi di
Tibullo CìJ 1 non Ibi rapporto a quello capo, ma tutta in generale
confermano la mia pre- fente opinione . Non di legno però -
ma di pietra in figura di gran piramide , al dir di Pautania , fi* il
Simula- cro fiotto il nome di Apollo da’ Megarefi guarda- to , e
Umilmente una pietra fu la sì celebre Ve- nere Pafia , il di cui
Santuario tanta venerazione rifico Uè non pur dall’ Ifiola di Cipro , ma
dalla Grecia tutta, e dall’ Alia minore. Venere Pafia, che ha data
occafione , e primo impullò al mio fieri vere , quella fi a appunto , che
ornai gli dia compimento. Il di lei Simulacro viene da
Maflimo Tirio ( 6 ) ad una piramide bianca paragonato . Noi però
più efatta ne prenderemo la detenzione da Tacito ( 7 ) , le di cui parole
nel fiuo nativo linguaggio mi fo lecito di produrre : Haud crtt lon- gum
initi a religionis , temyli fitum , formanti Dea 9 ncque alibi fic
habetur , vaucis dijjerere. Simulacrum Dea non effigie fiumana continuus orbis
, la - tiore initio tenuem m ambitum , met a modo exurgens , C? ratio in
obfcuro - Or di quefia Venere Pafia noi coi noftri proprj occhi ne
potremo facilmente rilevar Ja figura tutta appunto conforme *
alla C o f. 29. ( 2) I. f 3 ) 4. 12, co «$• Eleg. 1.
lib. I. O) Nam veneror, jèu Jìiyes habet defertus in agris ,
$eu vetits in trivio florida Certa lapis f Eleg. io. lib. I..
Sed yatrii fervute lares , coluiflis CP idem Curfarem veflros cum
tener ante lares ; Kec yudeat yrifios vos ejfe e fliyite faclos
, Sic veteris JeJes incoluiflis evi . T unc melius
tenuere fidem , cum ytniyere teSÌ 9 l Stabat in exigua ligneus ade Q$us
• (d) Orat. 38. (7) Lib , 2. 54 Dissert. sull'Origine
alla defcrizione di Tacito. Balla oflervar tre Me** daglie
riportateci dal Patino ( i). La prima bat- tuta dalla Città di Paflo a
Drulo Celare ( 2 ) . La feconda coniata da’ Cipriotti a Vefpalìano
La terza da’ Cipriotti Umilmente dedicata a Tra- mano C4J • Anzi non l’
Itola lòia di Cipro, co- me di lòpra toccai , e come attella , e compro-
va P eruditiffimo incomparabile Spanemio (5), adorò la Venere Pafia . Il
di lei culto propagolfi ancora in altre Nazioni , e Città , le «juali
perciò lì fecero vanto di ornare col di lei Simulacro , e Tempio i
rovefci di lor medaglie . Fede ne fac- cia la Medaglia di Adriano battuta
da que’di Sardi nell’ Afia minore, e riferita dal Sirmondo (< 5 ) ,
e Umilmente un’ altra coniata da Pergameni fpet- tante ad Euripilo
prellò il citato Spanemio ( 7 ) ; ed anche un’ antica Corniola prodotta
dall’ Ago- ltini , fenza accennare però, le Greca, o Roma- na ( 8 _)
. Ed io lòn di parere , che dal tempo , e dagli Eruditi altri limili
monumenti o fcoperti lì fieno , o (coprire lì pollano dinotanti la
venera- zione dilatata, in che lì ebbe quella folle Palla divinità,
e infieme comprovanti la veridica deferii zione , che del di Lei
Simulacro Tacito ci rap- prefenta . Debbo però confettare , che quanto
ne* monumenti addotti io riconol'co per vera ed el'at- ta la
delcrizione mentovata , mi lòrprende altret- tanto il modo , con cui
Tacito la conclude : Me- t.r modo exurgens , ei dice , i? ratio in
olj'curo . Pof- fibile , che ad un Uom si erudito , quale fu Taci-
to, sì gran meraviglia facelle il mirar Venere Pafia in figura di un cono
, o di una piramide ? Non dovea egli piuttollo da una tale figura
defumere 1* antichità di tal Simulacro , o almeno la derivazio- ne
di C 1 J Imy. Roin. Numis . (*2 ) Ibi pag. 80. C 3
) (4) Ibi pag. J 3 o. ( $ ) De
Praeft. , t? Ufìi Numism. Dijf. 5. ) Colleg. del- le Med. del Col.
Chiaram. di Parigi . ( 7 ) Ibi . C»J DiaL 5. pag. 176.
ne di una veturtilfima coltomanza ? Non dovea Ta- pe re , che ne’ più
rimoti tempi, e come Trogo di- cea , ab origine rerum , altri Simulacri
non ebbero i Numi , che o pietre quadrate , o piramidi , od obe-
lifchi , o coni , o colonne di legno , e di fallo ? Come ignorar potea il
conico Simulacro d’ Apollo in Megara , e del Sole in Ed e Ila , e gli
obelifchi, è le piramidi al Sole ideilo alzate in Egitto ? Come gli
ufeiron di mente i furti, o colonnette rozze di legno , e le impolite
pietre , che per di lui alfer- zione rifeuoteano le adorazioni della
Germania ? Come sfuggirono alla di lui maflima erudizione le due
colonne porte a Giove nel Tempio d’ Ercole in Tiro ; come le altre molte
collocate nel Tempio di Gadi ; come le due confecrate al Sole dal
Re Ferone nel di lui Tempio in Egitto? Tante co- lonne infine fi J
, con cui adombrar (i folevano e Giove , e Giunone , e Bacco chiamato
perciò TUputiovios Colutnnarius , e Apollo detto Ayiftfs
Compitali , ed Ercole , e Marte , e Bellona , non do- vevano farlo
falire all’ origine delle cole , ai colto- mi dell’antica, e primiera
rozzezza, e deporre la meraviglia circa la forma del Simulacro di
Venere Pafia ? Ma qual cofa Tacito fi penfaflè in quella Tua
fofpenfione, egli fel vegga, e noi non ce ne brighe- remo
altrimenti. Raccoglieremo bensì le vele ad una Dillerta-
zione , che in vallo pelago trafeorfe ornai troppo lungi. Voi, o dottiamo
Sig. Conte, farete telfi- monio o del Tuo felice tragitto, o del Ilio infaufto
naufragio ; e onorar dovrete o di compatimento i fuoi rilicofi viaggi , o
i luoi errori di correzione . Se 1 amor proprio non mi fa velo al
giudizio , ere. c " e ^ della tratto avelie a qualche porto
di 1 ufficiente probabilità 1 opinione da Voi propolla- ™ l . \ c
}°£ che i Simulacri più vernili delle pagane Divinità follerò di
quadrata, o di rotonda figura , o al- C O Ue^io Aìnetan.
Qjiejì . lib. 3<5 Dissert. SuliTdolatria; ( o almeno
tendente a rotonditi . Un più ralente Piloto e di forze , e di tempo , e
di finimenti più agiato faprà condurla felicemente ad un porto di
fìcurezza . Quanto a me , fe altro non averti po- tato ottenere , Tarò
almeno contentiamo d avervi f er alcun modo tellimoniata la mia.
ubbidienza , alto pregio , in che tengo 1’ autorità voftra , e ij voltro
merito Angolare . l'idi t prò lUtàe , ac Revino D. V. Domini
co Al archi one Mancinforte Epifcopo F aventino Albertus Raccagni
Farocbus Sanfli Antonini. Fr. Angelus Maria Merenda Ordinis
Predicato- rum Sacra Scripturx LeElor , ac f^icartus Gg~ neralis
SaaEli Offici* F aventi a . In tale direzione, si riscontra la
necessità di condurre la ricerca a un livello sem iotico-sem iosico, ricorrendo
alla sem iotica di Peirce, e in particolare alla sua definizione di
“interpretante iconico”, segno creativo capace di comprendere meglio ciò che è
altro dall’identico, ciò che differisce dal segno “idolo”. Attraverso una
semiotica dell’interpretazione, si cercherà quindi di spiegare teoricamente il
funzionamento degli elementi che compongono un testo, per una comprensione del
concetto di scrittura e le prospettive che questa propone per la costruzione di
un approccio critico alla problematica della lettura del testo BACON, LE
QUATTRO SPECIE DI IDOLI Bacon espone in queste pagine la sua teoria sugli idola
(i pregiudizi) che occupano la mente umana e le rendono difficile “l’accesso
alla verità”. Bacon, Novum Organon, Gli idoli e le false nozioni che
penetrarono nell’intelletto umano fissandosi in profondità dentro di esso, non
solo assediano le menti umane in modo da rendere difficile l’accesso alla
verità, ma addirittura (una volta che quest’accesso sia dato e concesso) di
nuovo risorgeranno e saranno causa di molestia nella stessa instaurazione delle
scienze: almeno che gli uomini, preavvertiti, non si agguerriscano, per quanto
è possibile contro di essi. Quattro sono le specie degli idoli che assediano le
menti umane. Per farci intendere abbiamo imposto loro dei nomi: chiameremo la
prima specie idoli della tribú; la seconda idoli della spelonca; la terza idoli
del mercato; la quarta idoli del teatro. Gli idoli della tribú sono
fondati sulla stessa natura umana e sulla stessa tribú o razza umana. Pertanto
si asserisce falsamente che il senso umano è la misura delle cose ché al
contrario tutte le percezioni, sia del senso sia della mente, derivano dall’analogia
con l’uomo, non dall’analogia con l’universo. Rispetto ai raggi delle cose
l’intelletto umano è simile a uno specchio disuguale che mescola la sua propria
natura a quella delle cose e la deforma e la travisa. XLII Gli idoli
della spelonca sono idoli dell’uomo in quanto individuo. Ciascuno infatti
(oltre alle aberrazioni proprie della natura in generale) ha una specie di
propria caverna o spelonca che rifrange e deforma la luce della natura: o a
causa della natura propria e singolare di ciascuno, o a causa dell’educazione e
della conservazione con gli altri, o della lettura di libri e dell’autorità di
coloro che si onorano e si ammirano, o a causa della diversità delle
impressioni a seconda che siano accolte da un animo preoccupato e prevenuto o calmo
ed equilibrato. Cosicché lo spirito umano (come si presenta nei singoli
individui) è cosa varia e grandemente mutevole e quasi soggetta al caso. Perciò
giustamente affermò Eraclito che gli uomini cercano le scienze nei loro mondi
particolari e non nel piú grande mondo a tutti comune. Vi sono poi gli
idoli che derivano quasi da un contratto e dalle reciproche relazioni del
genere umano: li chiamiamo idoli del mercato a causa del commercio e del
consorzio degli uomini. Gli uomini infatti si associano per mezzo dei discorsi,
ma i nomi vengono imposti secondo la comprensione del volgo e tale errata e
inopportuna imposizione ingombra in molti modi l’intelletto. D’altra parte le
definizioni o le spiegazioni, delle quali gli uomini dotti si provvidero e con
le quali si protessero in certi casi, non sono in alcun modo servite di
rimedio. Anzi le parole fanno violenza all’intelletto e confondono ogni cosa e
trascinano gli uomini a controversie e a finzioni innumerevoli e vane.
XLIV Vi sono infine gli idoli che penetrano negli animi degli uomini dai vari
sistemi filosofici e dalle errate leggi delle dimostrazioni. Li chiamiamo idoli
del teatro perché consideriamo tutte le filosofie che sono state ricevute o
create come tante favole presentate sulla scena e recitate che hanno prodotto
mondi fittizi da palcoscenico. Non parliamo solo dei sistemi filosofici che già
abbiamo o delle antiche filosofie e delle antiche sètte perché è sempre
possibile comporre e combinare moltissime altre favole dello stesso tipo: le
cause di errori diversissimi possono essere infatti quasi comuni. Né abbiamo
queste opinioni solo intorno alle filosofie universali, ma anche intorno a
molti princípi e assiomi delle scienze che sono invalsi per tradizione,
credulità e trascuratezza. (Il pensiero di F. Bacon, a cura
di P. Rossi, Loescher, Torino. The idol fixes one's gaze on itself ; the icon ,
for its part , demands that one go throughGrice: “Cattaneo’s philosophical
background is much stronger than Hart’s! Hart always doubted his philosophical
abilities – as he kept comparing himself to me! When Cattaneo was at St.
Antony’s, Hart found that he had to play brilliant, since a ‘continental’ was
watching! Cattaneo is especially good in the study of Roman-Italian
giurisprudenza, from Cicero, Goldoni, Carrrara, and Manzoni, onwards! They
don’t need no stinking Hart!” -- M. A. Cattaneo. Mario A. Cattaneo. Mario
Alessandro Cattaneo. Mario Cattaneo. Keywords: eidolon, idolo, idol of the
market place – bentham -- autorita, autoritarismo, positivismo di H. L. A.
Hart, il concetto della legge, filosofia del linguaggio ordinario, scuola
oxoniense di filosofia del linguaggio ordinario, il gruppo di giocco di Austin,
il primo o vecchio gruppo di giocco di Austin al All Souls, giovedi notte; il
nuovo gruppo di giocco di Austin sabato alla mattina. Hart, Hampshire, Grice.
Grice, neo-Trasimaco, giustizia, fairness, valore legale, valore morale, le
legge e la morale, priorita della moralita sulla legalita, concetti di
priorita, priorita evaluativa, neo-trasimaco, neo-socrate, platonismo
giuridico, positivismo pre-Kelsen: hobbes, bentham, autin. I giuristi italiani.
Storia della giurisprudenza italiana. Goldoni, Carrara, Manzoni, Collodi,
Lorenzini, Pinocchio, Foscolo, Perini, Beccaria, Colonna infame, letteratura
italiana, fizione italiana, prosa italiana, giurisprudenza italiana, avvocatura
ed implicatura. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Grice e Cattaneo” – The Swimming-Pool
Library. Cattaneo.
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